#don’t know why the quality is so bad suddenly | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mellowyellow236 · 3 days ago

Text

How would the TWST boys act when they’re jealous?

This is Scarabia, Pomefiore, and Ignihyde's section- Link to Heartslabyul, which has the rest of the fics linked. The reader is gender-neutral. There may be mild spoilers as to who overblots and other facts. Some of them might have Yandere tendencies, though nothing graphic or descriptive and always very mild, they’ll be marked with a ‘Y’ if they do. Mainly because sometimes the boys are calm and talk through their feelings… And sometimes they go down possessive insecurity-included spirals. If anyone has anything to add or any questions, please leave a reblog or comment! Requests are open if anyone wants.

Scarabia:

Kalim Al-Asim - Y

Kalim doesn’t get jealous easily. Well, he likes to think that he doesn’t. To be completely honest, he doesn’t even know what that horrible feeling crawling into his chest is when he sees you laughing with someone else.

It’s not a subtle thing when he does. He doesn’t pull you away from them, but he certainly shows you love. Here’s an elephant! And a tiger! And a magic carpet, ten tons of gold, and lots and lots of gems! Aren’t they beautiful? It’s not as much as you! You’re lovelier than everything in his treasury, please accept all of his love and gems and never leave him!

Please, don’t leave him. He’s so used to people only using him, but if it was you… He could take it. He’ll buy you anything you look at, he’ll pamper you every day and night, you’ll never have to lift a finger if only you accept him… Please. Please, please.

When Kalim suddenly thinks about poisoning his rival in love… It’s horrible. He thinks about the times he, or really Jamil, nearly died, and he wonders how long it could have knocked out the other man. He wonders if you’d come to him to draw your tears, and he wonders what shades of black would look best on you, what would go with every piece of silk he owns. And he hates it. He wakes up after a few minutes, and he cries. He feels so bad that he won’t even keep it a secret. He’ll walk right up to you and confess his sins. Please, forgive him, he’ll be better. He’s sorry. He wanted to cause you pain for a moment. He’s sorry.

Hold him close to you and tell him it’s alright. Tell him that he’s not a monster, or that you accept him with every horrible, spoiled quality. Tell him that you love him and that as long as he never acts on those horrible thoughts, he’ll never leave his place in your heart. Speak to him and he’ll cherish you more closely than he would ever cherish a jewel.

Jamil Viper - Y

Jamil is used to being pushed aside. He’s used to being unappreciated, unloved, and undeserving. He’s used to being second place. So why is it that right after you give him everything he’s ever craved… So why did you choose to leave him?

That man was flirting with you. Jamil knows he was. He’s sure of it. So why didn’t you push him away? You should have. You. Should. Have. If you really loved him, you would have. Do you really not love him? He loves you. So why don’t you feel the same?

Is he not good enough? Is he not enough for you? Is he still a place behind that man and Kalim and everyone else in the world? Do you think he’s less because he overblotted? Or is it because he’s a servant? Is it because he’s only vice-housewarden? Is he less than your other friends? Is he not good enough for you?

How dare you leave him. How dare you. For that he should crush you, he should attack you, he should ruin every single thing around you. You should pay for making him get his hopes up! You should pay for making him believe he’s wanted! You should pay, you have to pay!

But when you’re back in your arms he doesn’t know what to do. His plans fly away as his blot diminishes. He’s calm for only a second more, though the slitherings of a snake aren’t ever gone for long. He might as well be a servant to his own passion as well.

Pomefiore:

Vil Schoenheit -

Vil is secure in your relationship. He’s sure you care for him; If not, he sees no point in continuing your relationship. He requires you to be trustworthy enough to know that you won’t leak anything to the press to even think of dating you.

And if not, he’s sure a little push in the right direction, whether that’s asking you for help choosing a lipstick or poses for the cameras will be enough to distract you from whatever potato you’re with. You want to help out the world-famous superstar, don’t you? Come on, he wanted to be the fairest of them all, so why don’t you help?

Vil knows how to strut. He knows what you like and he knows what you’re like. He knows what you want. So why does he always see you with other people, even when he’s vying for your attention? You have to understand, don’t you? Don’t tell him you’re so oblivious that you don’t know how much he cares for you…

The worst case will always be with Neige. When that adorable boy comes up to you and talks, all Vil can see is the fluttering of her eyelashes and the pout on his lips and how you seem to fold as easily as the rest of the masses to every little movement. Vil can be just as cute as him, you know? No. Vil can be gorgeous, brilliant, and stunning. Far more beautiful than that boy could ever be. And he’s all yours for the taking if you would just turn your head to look for a fraction of a second of the perfect mess you make of him.

He almost spits out the words as he asks what you two were just talking about. It’s venom on his tongue, pouring out of his mouth until you push yourself into his arms, and he sees it. Your eyes soften, and he understands, for a moment, how pretty lashes asking for an opinion can make a grown man kneel. And even more than that- He understands that he’s the only one who gets your mercy and your blessings as he prays, no matter how many others might beg for the same.

Rook Hunt -

Rook doesn’t get jealous. What is love if not to be shared, after all? Of course, he’s always there to protect you, to keep you safe and sheltered and happy, but why shouldn’t he share your beauty with the world? The more the merrier, especially when it comes to finding others to talk about you with.

Of course, he won’t stand for someone outright hitting on you. To not do so is silly, and he is always one to make sure that you are comfortable. He’d gladly whisk you off your feet and take you into the trees with him if someone is getting too handsy. A nice broom ride through the forest, or perhaps simply dancing across dewy grass or sturdy branches, would be quite the romantic method of doing it, don’t you think?

Epel Felmeir -

Epel’s very easily jealous, but even more easily, he believes he’s losing. What do ya mean, he’s not the perfect company? Ain’t he worth it? Ain’t he manly enough to protect you and keep ya to himself?

Vil ain’t gonna like it when he acts out, and he’ll call ya to calm him down. But oh, Epel acts out even worse when you are. When you’ve got your hands on Vil’s shoulder, your voice in his ears, your chest against his back whispering whatever silly phrases he needs to get off Epel’s back. You’re only here because Epel asked for a favor. So how come he now wants to slam that darn makeup tray on the floor even harder?

Oi, Prefect, don’t ya know that you’re his? Ya gotta know that you’re the only thing keeping him sane. You can’t just go and run to someone else, m’kay? So forget about Vil and kiss up to him instead!

Ignihyde:

Idia Shroud - Y

Idia gets jealous easily. He doesn’t always tell you, but oh boy, does watching any of those normies get close to you make him feel horrible things welling up in his head.

He knows that you like him back- He can see it from the security cameras all over the school, he needs to know your likes and dislikes to max out the affection meter. How else will he unlock your best ending? He’s just too awkward of a guy to actually do anything about it!

So he can’t help but look like a wet cat when you come into his room to see him. You just got 100 points added to his rival’s score, aren’t you supposed to be his player 2? He knew your route was popular, but he’s got competition that far outranks him!

Oh, but then you kissed his cheek… And you hugged him… And looked into his eyes and told him he was the only one you loved… Idia doesn’t know how he unlocked this special cutscene with his favorite UR+ character card, but oh, his hair sure does turn a bright shade of pink when you comfort him.

#kalim al asim #kalim x reader #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #epel felmier #epel felmier x reader #idia shroud #idia x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader

249 notes · View notes

kaile-hultner · 7 months ago

Text

Help me dig upward: the Tumblr post

In which I talk a little bit about the hole I’ve been in for a hot minute—and what I want to do to dig out of it.

Hey y’all,

For the second time in a few years I’m starting a GoFundMe. This time, though, it’s not for the site, at least not explicitly. It is to help me get out from under the weight of debt that I’ve been carrying for more than a decade at this point, but which has finally gotten so bad that it’s affecting everything from my sleep patterns to my overall mental health and ability to do the thing that you likely already support me for: this website.

If you’ve been wondering why the posting has decreased here, or reduced in quality, or why we started 2024 off publishing other writers and then just as suddenly stopped doing that again, this is why: I am out of money, I am in debt, and it feels like I’m living every day in pure, basic survival mode.

This GFM, in which I’m asking for $10,000, is a moonshot, a Hail Mary. I don’t expect it to raise anything; it will be the last time I ask the Internet for money, whether it works or it doesn’t. If it works, obviously it’ll mean I’ll be able to post more and maybe my mental health will improve and I won’t feel like every moment is a countdown to a terrible ending, and I’ll be able to think of compelling angles to talk about video games again. If it doesn’t work, maybe I’ll figure something else out. Bankruptcy, probably. I don’t know.

I hate doing this. I hate being in this position. I hate that I’ve already asked for money this year and people have been extremely generous and it just feels like all that generosity just went into a hole. I wish I had something to show for that generosity, or proactively for anything I gain from this campaign. So, if there is something you want me to cover or talk about or look at in exchange for your support on this campaign, just shoot me an email with proof of your donation, no matter how small. It’s [email protected]. I can’t promise I’ll write a bunch of magnum opuses at your request but I will do what I can just simply to show appreciation for your support.

Anyway, this feels bad to me and I’m already starting to regret it, so I’m going to wrap this up by saying thank you in advance and I owe you my life. I wish that was figurative.

Edit: here is the text of the GFM I posted.

Hi y’all,

My name is Kaile Hultner. I am an online cultural critic who has been running the video game criticism website No Escape since 2019. My work has been featured in other places like PC Gamer, Polygon and Bullet Points Monthly. And like a lot of people, I have been deeply in debt for years.

Debt is a very strange phenomenon. As anthropologist David Graeber demonstrated in his book Debt: The First 5000 Years, it is a phenomenon that imparts a kind of moral valence on a person; whether or not that person can pay their debts is a sign of their trustworthiness or virtue as a member of polite society. Yet you can’t go without debt: at some point, at least in the United States, you have to pick up a form of debt – credit – to establish your credit score, without which you can’t rent an apartment, buy or lease a car, or, in some cases, even get a job. Being debt-free can harm this score, as can having a credit history that is “too young.”

I’ve been in debt for a long time. I’ve been managing my debt for over a decade. Every year for the last six or seven years in particular it feels like I’m losing progressively more and more ground. Seven years ago I had a car; I could do things like deliver Uber Eats and DoorDash and make extra money whenever I ran out. It broke down in my driveway in 2022 and I couldn’t afford to take it to a mechanic to get it fixed. I sold it for $200. I haven’t been able to replace it. I don’t know what I’ll do if I ever need a car for anything. Luckily my day job is WFH.

Recently, I’ve been fighting with my old bank over charges it erroneously applied to my account in excess of $1000, causing it to go deep into the negatives. I’ve been slowly, slowly digging myself out of that hole thanks to some close friends and some very kind folks who follow me on the Internet. But it’s caused other debts to exacerbate. And tonight I realized that I am at the end of my rope. I can’t do this anymore. I won’t sit here and say that I’ve done everything right; certainly, more than one bad decision made out of desperation has put me here. I won’t make excuses for that. But I’m tired of being here, in this position. I’m tired of waking up in the middle of the night with heart palpitations because I got an alert from my bank that I’m in the negatives. I’m tired of getting emails and phone calls from debt collectors. I’m tired of living in basic survival mode with no discernible path forward. I’m tired of being tired, of not having the energy to be creative and do the work I’ve built an online presence around for five years. And paradoxically, I’m tired of asking people on the internet for money.

So I’m going to ask people on the internet for money, one final time.

I’ve set the goal at $10,000. This is far more than I’m honestly expecting to get, but if I get even a fraction of that I could finally obliterate my debts in a meaningful way. I do have specific milestones that I basically need to meet, otherwise this GFM doesn’t hit its maximum effectiveness, but otherwise the sky is the limit. If I reach the whole amount… I don’t really know what I’ll do. Cry, maybe.

Milestones – bolded are high-priority

Milestone reached! $750 – gets my old bank account out of the negatives. Eliminates one vector of harassment, allows me to close that account and move on.

Milestone Reached! $1800 – does the above and allows me to fully pay any late or past-due loan payments missed as a result of the bank issue.

Milestone Reached! $6000 – does the above and allows me to fully pay off all installment loans

$8000 – does the above and allows me to pay off any remaining debts.

$10,000 – does the above and allows me to start saving.

$10,000+ – basically a moonshot, I have no idea what I’ll do with extra.

I fully do not expect you to donate to this. There are people trying to escape genocides, much more abject poverty, crushing medical debt, and so much more that feel – at least to me – so much more worthy of your attention and money. But just know that if you dodonate something, you have my undying appreciation. I will quite literally owe you my life.

I’m going to post this now before I get too emotional or lose my nerve entirely, but again: thank you. Even if all you do is read this.

—Kaile

#crowdfunding #financial aid #mutual aid

401 notes · View notes

pullupinarari · 2 months ago

Text

In another life [LH]

author’s note: last fic of the year and it obviously had to be an angst! I loved writing this plot so much, I hope you girls enjoy it! 🩷 mwah

• masterlist

wc: 7447 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

A light breeze would erupt through the curtains slowly, the waves of goosebumps dressing your skin as Lewis would embrace your frame with his, diving between the sheets to worship your body, to make up for all the time he had been away.

The love between your figures would sway effortlessly, the warmth and desire emanating from your shadows naturally, like a beautiful memory of what being in love feels like.

The years have taught you that there’s a big difference between falling in love and actually loving someone. Falling in love is like taking an elevator - it’s fast, the cupid hitting its arrow right into your heart in a matter of seconds as soon as you look Lewis in the eye for the first time. On the other hand, loving someone, through their qualities and their flaws, it’s like climbing an endless flight of stairs - ones that you insist on climbing, even if your legs are hurting, just because you know the view from the top will be breathtaking.

Being in a relationship is like watching the water running through an immortalised stone statue, repeating the same cycle, representing the routine shared between two souls, but also staring at the water and seeing your reflexion, like a mirror inside of you, recognising and accepting your chosen half, allowing you the feeling of being free, to be yourself with someone else, like diving deep in the middle of the ocean, with nothing holding you down, knowing that your safety net won’t fail you when you need it the most.

Or at least you thought it would never fail you. When you get caught in the middle of a whirlwind of rumours, lies, the light breeze that would usually gently push your hair out of your features suddenly becomes a violent blast, hitting you right in the face, freezing your senses to the point of drying all the tears appearing in your eyes - forbidding you from crying.

The truth is: you have no one to cry to. Fake news kept spreading online, pictures of you and a group of friends going out for dinner, the media focusing on the fact that you and one of the guys at your table are sitting close to each other, and leaving the restaurant with your figures beside each other.

Lewis knows most of your friends, so you thought those stupid rumours wouldn’t be a problem. Never in your worst dreams would you think that Lewis would doubt your word, when you told him that the ‘mysterious’ guy he didn’t know was cousins with one of your closest girlfriends.

It’s true that the man never showed up at your meetings before, it’s true that you didn’t know him before that dinner either. But nothing bad and nothing good happened. It was just another day for you, another innocent dinner with your friends.

For the whole night, Lewis kept showing up in your conversations - leaving you to say how badly you wish he could have made it to the meeting, like he usually would if he didn’t have such a busy schedule.

The tornado started forming slowly, when the pictures of your group of friends started showing up on social media the next morning. The warm limbs of your boyfriend tightly intertwined around your shape started growing loose, his eyebrows furrowing while you two inspected the pictures online at the same time.

A shrug characterizes your reaction, not paying attention to it. But Lewis couldn’t help but ask you: “Who is this guy? I’ve never seen him”, yes you never saw him either, he’s just cousins with your friend. “But why was he sitting so close to you?” you don’t know, probably because the noise at the restaurant was too loud and he wanted to hear everyone clearly. “He seems to find you really funny”, well he was a bit tipsy so he was really finding everyone and everything hilarious? “Why is he entering your car in this picture?”, because he got drunk out of his mind and you were one of the few that was feeling good to drive, so you decided to give him a ride home.

Lewis starts sighing, distancing his body from yours, and you are the one furrowing your eyebrows right now. You don’t understand his angry facial expression, you don’t like his accusatory tone, you can’t wrap your head around all the questions that insist on leaving his mouth, almost as if he can’t even control them.

- Okay, what’s going on? - you ask, your tone sounding annoyed as well, feeling pressed by his attitude.

- Nothing - he says shortly, and almost even ironically, trying to ignore the topic as he gets up from the bed.

Snorting, you don’t believe him.

- Then what’s up with the sudden mood change? It’s just some innocent pictures of last night, I explained what happened to you - you try to reason with him, only for him to turn his back to you as he walks to the bathroom.

Sighing, your body plops down on the mattress, covering your eyes with your hands as you take a deep breath. You definitely don’t feel like staying home to deal with your boyfriend’s childish attitude, wanting more of your day than to put up with a jealousy crisis. Hearing Lewis turning on the shower, you decide to go out for a run.

Running by the sea, your body tries to wash away all the anger creeping inside of you. Why is Lewis acting like this? He should trust you, he should believe your words, he should know you, who you are, that you’re better than this. Your mind is a mess, you feel hurt, confused - but in the middle of all the bitterness, you remember that, in a week, you and Lewis will be celebrating three years of your relationship.

Three years ago, the man asked you to be his girlfriend, next to the most breathtaking sunset that you have ever seen in Greece. And a year ago, he gave you a promise ring, in a secluded moment where it would be just you and the sea waves crashing at your feet. I want to secure my future with you, my love. You’re the one for me, his words still linger in your brain almost on a daily basis, whenever you get the chance to look at his features, to feel his touch, to kiss his lips. And nothing would make your heart flutter more than his promise of a life together.

And maybe that’s why it all hurts so much more. That’s why Lewis feels his heart clenching in his chest, scrolling through social media after his shower. He can’t contain his fingers from scrolling, he can’t stop his eyes from reading.

The man goes back to the posts where he knows he will find all the pictures from last night. Curiosity takes the best of him as he starts reading through the endless comments, analysing everyone’s theories about what could possibly have happened.

He doesn’t want to doubt you, he really doesn’t. Right now, Lewis just wishes he could feel his heart lighten enough to put this behind his back, but he can’t. Something in his mind keeps switching, like an alarm that doesn’t stop ringing in his ears.

As much as he hates to admit it, this situation brings him flashbacks of a situation that he would rather forget: a guy, one that he thought was his friend - but that your boyfriend ended up realizing he was just another acquaintance, that had a major crush on you when you and Lewis started dating. John was his name, and the man still feels his blood boiling every time he remembers the way John would look at you, how he would compliment you and your body during the times that Lewis brought you along to some of his friends’ meetings. John tried to get inside of his mind, making up lies about you, hoping Lewis would set you free for him to tame you. But that didn’t happen. Lewis trusted you with his life, he believed your words, he believed in the truth, and stayed by your side through it all.

After everything that happened, and after you admitted how uncomfortable he made you feel, Lewis dropped John, from his group, from his life, wishing you would never have to look at him again. But your boyfriend is naturally a possessive man, and he hates to feel threatened and insecure.

The gaze of another man on your skin is enough to make him tighten his hold around your frame, let alone picture some guy having some time alone with you. He hates to act like this, he hates to feel like this, and he wishes he could change it. This time, he wishes he could trust you with all certainty in the world, like he did before. But these past situations keep echoing in his mind, never leaving him to quiet down, relax, enjoy the peaceful time by your side. And now, it’s not different.

Because, at the end of the night, that guy got inside your car, and it was just the two of you for God knows how long. Could there be something that you are not telling him, now?

You come back home, panting as you wipe the sweat off of your forehead. Passing by Lewis’ frame on the corridor, you stay silent, now reaching for a much needed shower yourself. His eyes mirror your silhouette, the words almost leaving his mouth without his permission, but he decides to force them inside - shutting up his mind for a minute, wanting to give you a moment - and wanting to give himself a moment as well, so he can decide what he should do, now.

His leg is bouncing as he sits on the couch, his fingers holding his chin as the man feels anxiety creeping through his figure. Everything the two of you wanted was to spend some time together today, enjoying the few days you have in the other’s presence, before work yanks you from your safe space again. But Lewis can’t. He can’t spend days with doubts growing in every corner of his brain, with this uneasy feeling in his chest, as if he is unsure about you - and he definitely doesn’t want any of that.

Hopping out of the shower, you put on some comfortable clothes, hoping the cotton fabrics will make you feel better, since the shower seems to not have washed away all the discomfort in your skin.

You meet Lewis in the living room, knowing he is waiting for you by the way he keeps peeking through the door, his gaze focusing on the entrance to the room where he patiently waits. Sitting on the opposite end of the sofa, you look him in the eyes.

Your face is closed, an angry, almost disappointed expression reading in between the lines of your features, and Lewis shows you a questioning one, the face of someone whose mind is feeling fragile and doubtful.

He is fidgeting with his fingers, his legs bouncing electrically as a thousand questions erupt in his mind, heavily contrasting with your calm, peaceful form.

- I just want you to be honest with me, Y/N - he starts by saying, looking you straight in the eyes as he moves his body closer to yours, even if your stretched legs across the sofa pillows still secure some distance between you two. - Did something happen between you and that guy? - he questions, his cold tone making it impossible for you to believe that he is being serious, right now.

A surprised gasp leaves your mouth, your eyes widened, your mouth agape as you look at him, trying to find a glimpse of something that can let you know that he is not really being serious with these questions, now.

- Are you really asking me that, Lewis? Why do you keep insisting on this stupid story? You don’t believe my words? - shock fills your tone and mind, feeling insulted by the way he keeps doubting you, insisting on something that makes absolutely no sense.

- Was he an escape from all the nights I wasn’t here? From all the times I had to leave you alone? Have I not been giving you enough attention? - it’s like Lewis can’t even hear your replies to his accusations, words and questions leaving his mouth as if he only needed to vent, to let all the doubts out of his brain, into the air that grows heavier between you two. - Please, Y/N. Just tell me, please. I need to know where I failed you for you to do this to me.

You and Lewis match the sighs that leave both of your figures, even if they sound extremely different. Yours sounds frustrated, irritation running in your veins now, feeling like you are talking to the wall. No matter how hard you try to tell him that none of that it’s true, it’s like he doesn’t want to hear you, way too focused on his own world and mind - hence why he sighs in a defeated, hurt manner.

- Lewis, how many times do I have to repeat myself? Nothing happened last night, nothing ever happened between me and another guy for the almost three years that we have been together! Why is it so hard for you to believe me? - your voice cracks as you raise your tone, tears stinging on the corners of your eyes as you look at him, seeing how his gaze darts away from yours, not having the nerve to find the truth in yourself anymore.

Getting up from his seat on the couch, the man sighs again, his hands on his braids as if he is trying to get a hold of his brain. But still, it seems like he doesn’t even care to think twice about the words that leave his mouth next.

- Well, he got inside your car and you two were left alone for God knows how long! Everyone on social media is positive that something happened and I don’t want to live surrounded by doubts. I don’t want a forever with someone who doesn’t give me enough security and leaves me wondering all the time! - your boyfriend spits out, his tone higher as his words just leave your world to start crumbling down.

It takes you a while to process his words, your vision growing blurry as the tears multiply in your eyes, slowly running down your cheeks - the wet, cold sensation against your warm skin being the only thing your body allows you to feel for a moment. His silhouette almost disappears from your sight as you stay still in your seat, not having the courage to move while Lewis keeps pacing around the living room.

His face it’s in his hands, hiding all the shame and regret that he can feel jumping in his bones immediately after those words left his tongue. There’s a bitter taste in his mouth, some tears escaping his shadow as well, trying to hide from you, not wanting you to see the way he is slowly breaking down as well.

You hear his sniffles, while you are fully crying down now. Slowly getting up, you wipe the thick tears from your face, your shape meeting his, looking him dead in the eyes again.

- So, the ring, all those promises of a future by each other’s side… Meant nothing to you? - you ask him, your voice barely above a whisper now, facing him with the questions that he didn’t want to hear.

Shaking his head quietly, you see his bloodshot eyes, some tears lingering in his cheeks as he tries to take a deep breath.

- Y/N, listen… Don’t get me wrong. Loving you wasn’t a mistake, at all. But I just can’t do this. I can’t have a future with you. I don’t want a forever with someone like you. - he admits. No matter how bad it hurts him, it hurts you twice as much. He sees your figure collapsing in front of him and it doesn’t matter how much he might blame himself for it, he will never be able to bring you back to life.

And, in this moment, your heart just dropped to the floor, frozen in its place as you just nod your head at the words you had just heard. Right now, there’s nothing you can do to reverse this situation, to try and make Lewis believe in you.

You feel betrayed by the person you loved and trusted, wronged in every possible way, and his gaze on you feels way too heavy now, making you feel uncomfortable to stand in the same room as him.

Walking out of the living room, you rush to your shared closet, taking out all of your clothes, packing up as much as you can, trying to be as fast as possible - not wanting to spend a minute longer in this house. There’s a heavy weight on your shoulders, a feeling of hurt, disappointment, a type of pain that keeps growing in your chest the more you try to hold your whimpers and cries, not wanting to give in while you feel trapped inside these four walls - the ones who belong to the person who just ruined your life and future.

Right now, you feel like the mountain that Lewis didn’t want to climb to watch the view from the top, the compromise that didn’t deserve his time and effort, the wave that he didn’t want to surf anymore.

For almost three years, you stayed by Lewis’ side, through the good and the bad, firmly believing that he was going to be your endgame, the piece that was left on your, always unfinished, puzzle - while making you feel a bit more complete somehow. You felt free like the water running loosely on the ocean, the waves crashing as hard as your heartbeat whenever he would touch you.

Now, you feel a tsunami forming, all your love for him getting together to hit you hard, demolishing your inside, everything that you used to be. It’s almost as if your watery side turned into a wind - invisible but strong, and powerful enough to destroy everything around itself without people being able to see it.

Maybe you have been a blow in the wind all along. Maybe Lewis’ feelings have been disguised all this time - making you believe that you were a wave in his ocean, when you were just a light breeze that was there to push his hair off his face lightly, to cool him down when he was feeling way too hot. Maybe you were never more than that to him.

Picking up your suitcase, you leave everything else behind, not even wanting to look back when you close the door behind you. You can’t help but realize that, during all this time, all you did was convince yourself of a lie, a bunch of lies actually - if Lewis really did love you like he said he did, he would never leave you for a bunch of rumours. In a perfect world, if he was honest, he would sit down with you, hear the truth straight from you, and he could finally switch off his overthinking brain and just hold you close to him, forgetting about everything that people might say.

But Lewis was always honest with you. He didn’t lie when he said he loved you, he wasn’t joking when he told you he wanted a future by your side. He saw his life with you, a forever that he never thought he would have to let go of, giving up on your shared dreams for his insecurities and paranoia.

He is left a mess, lying on the sofa with his face hidden in a pillow, sobbing into the fabric so it could muffle the hurtful sounds leaving his body. His mind feels paralyzed by his never-stopping thoughts, never leaving him alone, invading his space, his moment. Everything around him looks terrible enough already, but his brain decides to play with him a little further, as if the man is a puppet in his mind’s slender, calloused fingers - that know what they are doing so well.

It’s all his fault, he knows it. The voices in his head don’t even have to repeat it a million times more, because Lewis knows that he is the main responsible for fucking it all up now.

You were never the problem, but you don’t know that. You don’t know everything that John said to Lewis before he left him behind, you don't know what crosses Lewis’ mind when he can’t sleep at night, you don’t understand his insecurities - because, to you, there was never a reason for him to be so afraid of losing you. You were devoted to him, he had you forever. And if he would still have you now, even after everything that he just said to you, you would come back without even thinking, the most obvious no brainer for you, running back into his arms, just so everything could feel right again.

But maybe you just can’t be held again. Maybe you don’t belong beside someone’s side but your own, maybe you need to learn how to nestle yourself when times get tough, you need to hug yourself to sleep when nights feel lonely. Maybe you were made to be untamed, uncontrolled. And maybe there’s no point in insisting - continuously thinking about Lewis being your other half, the one for you, your forever. You are a breeze of air, wind running free through the atmosphere. And there’s no barbed wire that would be able to hold the wind.

Driving around with tears still lingering in your eyes, you stop by your favorite spot at the pier, sitting down so you can watch the sunset in peace, every moment of your life passing in front of your eyes like a movie, enticed by the way the sound of the waves crashing feels like the soundtrack of all the chaos collapsing around you, misfortune feeling like your middle name, now. You replay the last words you exchanged with Lewis in your mind, wondering what does all this mean, if there’s still anything more for you out there, after everything.

In the middle of the heart wrenching thoughts that your mind keeps producing, you can’t help but observe and appreciate the view in front of you. The light contrast of yellow, orange and pink surrounding the sky as the sun gets ready to bid you farewell for some hours, resting on the horizon where the ocean and the sky meet, the peaceful yet destructive motion of the high waves imposing respect to everyone who threatens to get close to the water. The beauty hidden in every corner of nature takes your breath away, even in the middle of feeling like your life has just fallen apart.

You don’t know who created the world, but you know for sure that that person was in love. Because, at the end of the day, this is how falling in love feels: your skies slowly turning clear and pink, the sun so wide as it sets down, capable of illuminating the smallest corners of your being. The warmth waves of love, washing through you, but commanding some respect so you don’t forget who you are, in the end of it all.

You sigh, shaking your head, reminding yourself of the huge mistake you committed in this relationship: you gave him your all. Everything you were, everything you had, you deposited it in Lewis, feeding your relationship with every emotion you had, forgetting about your own needs at times even.

And who are you now? What are you, besides a breeze that feels light enough to float around and disappear once and for all, at the same time that you feel heavy with all the regret and pain that you are carrying around, making it hard for your feet to lift off the floor so you can even walk?

This has only served to teach you that love isn’t for you. No matter how badly you dreamed it, how badly you wanted it, a life beside Lewis isn’t what you were built for. You weren’t made for love, you weren’t made for the fights, the make ups, the love confessions. What’s the point? In the end, it all comes crashing down. You weren’t made for this.

Driving away when the day slowly turns into night, you feel the shadows creeping inside of your body, the darkness nestling itself in you, pushing your emotions to the side as if to make space for its body, occupying all of you - leaving you to feel empty and numb when you fall asleep on an unknown, cold hotel bed, representing your lonely, newfound reality.

You feel comfortable in the dark now. As weeks went by, you started learning how to find yourself in the void, recognising the gloom that now inhabited inside of you. The emptiness is familiar to you now, but you can’t deny that, sometimes, you wish there was some sort of different sound erupting through you - besides your intrusive thoughts and the destruction taking place in the never-ending construction that you represent now.

Every day of every week, you and Lewis would mirror each other’s attitudes, reactions, expressions, even while being so far away from each other. The impatient, frustrated sighs, the feeling of sadness surrounding your lonely shadows, the silent tears escaping your eyes from time to time. It’s a miss, the type you can’t replace, one that makes your hearts hurt by the way things collapsed between you two.

It’s like missing walking barefoot on the fluffiest carpet in your parents’ room, missing the feeling of security, the arms of the other that would be there for you, no matter what.

It took a while for Lewis to leave his room, let alone his house. Eventually, he allowed himself to see the light of day - which he kept running away from, hating the way the warmth and brightness would be enough to remind him of you.

But when he decided to face the reality in front of him, mourning the loss of you just got harder and harder. Life was way easier when he was hiding in a corner of his room, covered with the sheets, living in the middle of a break in time, pausing his existence, feeding himself off of silence and darkness - just like you.

He wasn’t ready to face the world without you by his side, but he did what had to be done - at least, that’s what his mind tells him. It was particularly painful to find all those friends you two had in common again, feeling forced to tell them everything about what happened, why you are not together anymore.

Lewis’ world nearly collapsed when your friends had your back, opening his eyes to the ridiculous amount of lies that he decided to believe, that he put all his faith in - instead of taking your word as truthful.

In the back of his mind, really really far back there, Lewis knows that you were telling the truth. It just hurts him even more to admit - to the world, but mainly to himself - that his insecurities got the best of him. That all his unsolved problems from the past continue haunting him at night, influencing the way he saw you and your relationship.

The man always knew that you were different, special to his eyes in a way no one else was. You were the one who could mess him up, making him question all about his own life, and he would probably thank you for it. But you never did any of that. You were kind, thoughtful, lovely. You had an easy smile, an uplifting mood that had the ability to make his days so much better in a matter of seconds. You never took advantage of him, of his emotions. You loved him, and all you wanted was for him to love you back - but, unfortunately, that’s something he can’t give you.

He can’t deny that he is still madly in love with you. It doesn’t matter that he hasn’t seen you in months now. He still thinks about your smile, the smell of your shampoo, how your hair always felt so soft in between his fingers when you would lay your head in his chest. And he really meant it when he told you he wanted to secure a future by your side.

There’s nights where he would dream about stealing one of Saturn’s rings, as a proof of his love and devotion to you, and on those nights, he almost died in his sleep, afraid the cosmical jewel would end up not fitting your finger, looking small when compared to how important you were - and still are, to him.

But in this phase of his life, he doesn’t feel safe enough to take the next step. He doesn’t feel ready to make such an important compromise, because he knows that he can’t love you the way you need, the way you deserve. As long as he allows his mind to win over him, to get in the way of his life, and especially of his relationships, he will never feel capable of giving you everything that you deserve: and this isn’t about material things. It’s about feelings, it’s about availability, giving you access to his rawest emotions that he refuses to accept, putting his dark memories behind him, wishing he could allow himself to pursue a future with the woman he loves.

A future that you dreamed together, but one that Lewis only realized to be a vision of both when he caught himself fiddling through the drawers of what once was your side of the bed. You left a lot of things behind, wishing you could just bury that part of your life by now, not wanting to take with you all the things that would make you relive a relationship that ended up hurting you so badly.

His fingers slowly move through the pages of your personal journal. He knows he shouldn’t be reading it, but in the middle of all the tears travelling through his features - missing you like a mad man, he needs something that can feel a bit more like you in the middle of the void that surrounds him and his house.

Each page hurts him more than the other, diving in your deepest thoughts, hopes and dreams of a life beside him. Some tears escape his eyes, landing on some of the pages as he sobs while reading the list of potential baby names that you loved, for when you two would have a kid of your own.

You were so devoted to picturing a life beside the man you loved, that you even printed some pictures of details you would love to include in your baby’s nursery, and he can’t help but chuckle bitterly at the big, red note that read “note to self: DON’T FORGET TO ASK LEWIS ABOUT THIS”, which you ended up forgetting - your head always on the moon, always forgetting most of things, but that’s how Lewis loved you, that’s what made you funnier in his eyes.

The uncontrollable sobs leaving his body are loud and painful, he’s sure that every single one of his neighbours can hear how hurt he is by the way he keeps weeping, his fingers still reading the entire construction of a future that you were carefully planning to have with him - one that he ruined.

In a desperate move, Lewis reaches for his phone, looking for your number, his body moving on its own as he calls you. “Pick up, please, please. Please, pick up” - he thinks to himself as he hears the never-ending ringing, that seems to last an eternity before it reaches your voicemail.

Sighing, he hangs up. He doesn’t want to leave you a message for you to hear and delete right away. He wants to talk to you, he wants to hear your phone. He wants to tell you that he believes you, that he knows that you were being honest all this time, he wants to let you know that he is the problem, not you. He wants to say how sorry he is for ruining the best thing in his entire life, because of past mistakes that are still messing with him to this day. But instead of leaving a message, he decides to let you decide whether you should call him back or not.

You don’t. The way your heart jumped in your chest when you saw his name on your phone again was enough to make a lump form in your throat again, rushing to silence the call, blocking his number as soon as he hung up. You learned your lesson when it came to love, to trusting people, and especially when it came to giving second chances. Lewis didn’t give you one to explain yourself, why would you waste your time listening to him and his words?

He wasn’t ringing you when he dumped you in minutes, like you meant absolutely nothing to him. He wasn’t reaching for you when he let you fall away from his touch, not holding you close when he ripped the air from your lungs, the floor from your feet.

Slowly, you are moving on. In a different city, surrounded by different, new people, while still feeling as alone as you can be. You stopped opening up to people, not letting anyone come closer to you, getting to know who you are on the inside - wishing you could pretend to be a completely different person for everyone outside of your house.

You actually can, but it’s the pain, the bitterness and weight of being yourself again inside of the four walls of your home - being the only person that you can’t escape nor ignore, that hurts every single hour of the day, feeling like a reaper as your mind is constantly reminding you of the unhappy events you carry around with yourself.

The next time Lewis hears some news about you, is through his mother. Carmen and your mother grew closer alongside the time you and him have been together. And even after your relationship ended, the two ladies kept their monthly lunch together tradition.

And it’s on one of those lunches that your mom confesses to Carmen about your new life. The fact that you moved to a city far away from home, how you stopped showing up at family gatherings, only sending letters, gifts, and facetiming them from time to time if you were in a good mood.

As much as you try to replace your absence with material things and short calls, you can’t make up for the void that you left in your parents, siblings, friends that miss you terribly. You’re not dead, but if you went to ask them, they mourned the loss of you for the past months, knowing that you will never be the same - bright, light, funny, kind and colorful girl that they once knew.

Running away from what hurt you so much was your way to find your fresh start, even if you know that you too lost yourself, feeling your old personality, the things that characterised you so well, slipping through your fingers slowly, realizing that you will never find yourself again either.

But maybe it’s a good thing that you can’t be what you were before, anymore. Maybe your new path means erasing every part of what you once were - pretending like you don’t know that girl anymore, like she never even existed. You don’t believe in love anymore, you don’t dream of having a family with anyone else, the future is not something that you plan anymore - living one day at a time, trying your best to embrace yourself, your pain, your old and new self that meet in the mattress every night, with all those hopes and scars that define you.

Lewis’ last words to you still echoe in your brain when you close your eyes to sleep. “I don’t want a future with someone like you” - each syllable thudding in the back of your mind for hours, kicking your restless body even further, making you feel like you are living hell on earth, your brain being your worst enemy. After all this, life is something that you don’t hold yourself onto as hard as before. Closing all doors around you, you come to the conclusion that you were made to be alone, to drag your feet around the streets, your dark bags informing everyone around you that darkness possesses your soul. And maybe he was right. No one will want to have a future with you.

But there’s still life, after all. There’s still love blooming in your family: your brother, Daniel and his long term girlfriend just had a baby. Another chapter of life that you won’t be present to celebrate, to record in your memories book.

Your mom couldn’t help but invite Lewis over to meet the little one. To tell the truth, your family still treats him like he is part of the group. It’s a weird feeling, but most of your family try to keep Lewis around as a reminder of you, of how light your spirit would feel around the room whenever you were next to them, of how widely you would open your arms to hug both your brother and sister at the same time.

Now, your laugh doesn’t fill the space around them, everything seems a bit emptier than before, it’s like colors have vanished. But it’s like Lewis has the power to hold your scent in his clothes, the kindness you would spread through every single person you met.

It should be a compliment, but it’s really something that destroys him. The first time he entered your parents’ house after your break up, your sister didn’t hold back. The words she screamed into Lewis’ features still hit him like an uneasy heartbeat, ready to make him crack anytime now. You took her away from us! - it’s true. He knows it is. And he carries the weight of his actions every single day, with the regret of pushing you far, far away. But the truth is, he lost you too. He still needs to learn how to deal with the biggest mistake he ever made, giving up on the strongest love he ever felt inside of himself.

Your mom always gives him the longest hugs, feeling you through him somehow, accepting your decision and what happened, but sensing your presence through Lewis being there - reminding your mom of the happiest moments you had with him, the thought warming her sore heart a bit more.

And your sister eventually gave in, realizing that blaming Lewis won’t bring you back - and knowing for sure that a war erupting between her and him is definitely not something that you would want. What happened between you and your ex-boyfriend should affect no one else besides you two. And your will shall be respected by your family.

A wave of memories and recollections washes over Lewis when he walks inside your nephew’s nursery. His eyebrows immediately furrow as he inspects each detail in the room - a sense of familiarity, the “I’ve seen this somewhere before” thought itching his skin.

And that’s when he remembers: the pictures in your journal, the descriptions of the nursery you would want your baby to have. The decoration looks the same as you had written down on the papers, and a deep breath leaves his body - suddenly feeling heavier than before.

Looking into the baby’s eyes, Lewis smiles at the child that’s lying in his crib. Chatting lightly with your brother, the man struggles to push the intrusive thoughts out of the front of his mind. And it’s like everything comes crumbling down when his eyes scan the carving that stands at the edge of the baby’s bed. “Our first little one: Luke”.

- Means ‘light’ - Lewis says, more to himself really, his voice sounding as quiet as a whisper, but your brother was close enough to hear.

- Yeah, it does. It was my sister’s idea to give him this name, actually. Me and my girlfriend loved it, and it’s also a way to keep Y/N close. All the room decorations were her plan as well, so it’s a really special place for us - your brother replies with a kind smile on his face.

A smile that Lewis tries his best to give back, but that he finds himself struggling to do so. He knows all about how the baby name was your idea, how the inspiration for the room was all yours as well. He read it all in your journal, and it’s like he is seeing the pages coming to life right in front of his eyes.

Holding your nephew close in his arms, his fingers caress the little boy’s cheek, looking into his eyes and almost seeing yours. It’s with a heavy heart that Lewis faces this moment, this situation. This could have been your moment. You and him, with a baby of your own, living a dream that you carefully planned to the smallest detail. It was supposed to be your moment, if Lewis hadn’t let go of you.

Later that day, Lewis finally allows himself to cry it all out, once the front door of his house closes behind him. Falling on the bed, no amount of pillows can shut the screaming, aching feeling in his chest, screaming into the cushions all the pain, regret and guilt that fill his veins right now.

You gave away all your dreams, all your vision of a future with Lewis, kindly giving your ideas and plans to your brother, only for your ex-boyfriend to end up living what was supposed to be his life through your family.

As much as he wants to work on himself, to try and be better for you, there’s no point in hoping for your return. You blocked him, from your phone, from your life, and you are not coming back - not even to your family, let alone to him.

Cold tears roll down his cheeks as the man silently beats himself up mentally - for fucking everything up, for losing the love of his life, for ruining his future. Lewis destroyed the only thing that he was supposed to save, to hold close, to cherish and protect.

Now, the only thing stringing you along is the darkness erupting through your bodies, the constant feeling of sadness, of emptiness, emotionlessly walking through this world with a disenchantment about life so deep that could make both of your figures disappear into the fog of the night.

It’s useless to continue pretending like both of you are doing okay when, in fact, you were only okay by the other’s side. Now, you try your best to find a shelter from yourself, from the memories of what you and Lewis once were. But you aren’t sure if you will ever be able to find a shelter that can protect you from him. So it’s just better to stay away, ignoring the idea of a sea that makes you believe that you are one walking into it, instead of the waves washing away all your regrets, erupting through your skin, to the most minimal extent of your being.

Now, the breezes don’t feel light anymore, now the winds are stronger and more distracting of your surroundings, as if the background noise of the gusts are the only thing making you feel something in the middle of the void that represents both of your figures.

And it really is when you lose something, that you realize that you can’t live without it. Lewis will never forgive himself for what he has done to you, to your relationship.

He might cry himself to sleep for the rest of his life, now, but at least he still has all your pictures together, all the voice notes you left him to hear your voice, and your journal - with all your plans and dreams with him, that he can read every night - almost feeling you closer to him, in the delusional tired state that lulls him to sleep, in the middle of all the made up scenarios of everything that your life could have been, but won’t be.

Dreaming of holding you close again, of making everything right, there’s still some hope for a future next to you - maybe, in another life.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton oneshot #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1

203 notes · View notes

mclarengf · 27 days ago

Text

un rosso inconfondibile

attending a fashion show (and scoring yourself a date in the process)

[2.1k]

note: in the two week long process of writing this, i have moved into a flat, broken two of my actual nails, and rewatched all the monster high movies. sorry it took so long. <3. (lmk if u want a part two??? im kinda in love w this dynamic i would be so keen to write more x)

“i’m genuinely so thankful to be here, and i can’t wait to see what looks they have to show tonight,” you trail off with a smile and blow a kiss to the camera.

the interviewer seems pleased enough with your response, and thanks you for your time before getting ready for the next famous face on the ferrari-red carpet.

the paparazzi were ravenous, like they always were— camera flashes were going off every second, while questions, directions and compliments were called out to you.

“please, turn this way!”

“who are you most excited to see?”

“give us a little smile!”

“you look gorgeous tonight! who are you wearing?”

at the last question, you laugh and gesture down to your silky black outfit.

“now, why would we be at a ferrari fashion show and not be wearing ferrari?”

your reply garners some laughs from the mob of cameras, and the reporter thanks you for your time.

your publicist gestures for you to head towards the entrance of the venue, allowing you to finally step off the carpet and take a breath.

like you had said earlier, you’re insanely grateful to have been invited to watch ferrari’s newest collection walk down the runway, but the sheer amount of pr you had to do before each of these shows… it could honestly bring about an early grave, you thought.

just as you were about to recollect your thoughts and continue to the door, your dress was tugged back suddenly.

you turned to see who had stepped on your train and found a man crouched down, trying to examine for any damage.

“i’m so sorry,” he said, smoothing out the fabric, seemingly pleased with the quality of it after his mishap.

“i was not looking where i was going. it’s a bad habit of mine, really…”

he had a strong accent- french, maybe— something european, at least.

“don’t worry about it,” you assured him, “i’m sure no one will notice.”

now standing, he reached out, holding his hand out. you took it, and he bowed his head to kiss it gently, making his introduction to you.

“i’m charles.”

in return, you told charles your name, and that it was very nice to meet him, but your publicist was looking quite displeased with you by the door, where you were meant to be a whole minute ago.

he raised his eyebrows, amused by your story, and followed your gaze to where there was, indeed, a stern looking woman waving you over.

“i’ll see you around, then.”

charles nodded by way of a goodbye and let you leave, chuckling as you made hurried steps towards the entrance.

your publicist frowned as you came closer, worriedly typing something out on her phone.

“come on, love, you were meant to be in there ages ago! they need to get more photos inside, and you have…” she pulled up her email and checked something quickly, “you have two interviews for ferrari’s social media, and for vogue france.”

“you worry too much,” you replied, shooting a smile at her, “it’s okay, i know what to do. we’ve been here hundred of times before, remember?”

she seemed to calm down a bit after your reassurance, but that did nothing to stop her from giving you a nudge to go inside.

you took some more deep breaths before you walked in, preparing for another round of photo ops.

at least these photographers didn’t yell.

“could we get one of you facing left, please?”

“perfect, and just another with your head turned!”

you weren’t really listening, just letting your body follow their instructions loosely.

just as you were getting into a rhythm with it, the instructions stopped coming. instead, the photographers were focussed on someone who was coming around the corner towards you.

“charles!”

ah.

you narrowed your eyes at him as he came closer. he was walking with a cocky sort of swagger, but who wouldn’t, you supposed, with all those cameras following him.

“we meet again,” he smiled widely.

“and so soon, too,” you added before you were interrupted by the photographers asking to get a photo of the two of you together.

you both forwent verbal answers, and instead positioned yourselves to be photographed— his arm came up to your waist, and yours behind his back.

“you’re a pretty big deal, huh,” you took the opportunity to ask, in between looking into different camera lenses with him.

he laughed, causing a rapid flurry of camera clicks as he did so.

“i suppose you could say that.”

you opened your mouth to reply, but was cut off by a shout, “please, charles, now by yourself!”

…maybe these guys did yell.

you shot a ‘what can you do’ look to charles as you left the spotlight, taking the photographer’s plea as a rightful cue to leave.

he held his hands together and mouthed a ‘sorry!’ quickly, before turning back to the horde and flashing them a brilliant smile.

jesus— he could be a toothpaste model or something.

you made it through your two social media interviews with no hiccups, though the vogue correspondent did ask you the nature of your relationship with charles, as, “you two seemed quite friendly earlier!”

you’d laughed it off and told her the truth, though for some reason, she didn’t seem too convinced.

a loud voice echoed around the room, telling everyone, “ladies, and gentlemen, signore e signori, if you could please take your seats.”

you found yours with ease, being seated in the front row, almost halfway down the runway, to the left of some magazine editor you honestly hadn’t heard of.

you started up a conversation with her about the current fashion season, and what trends she was predicting would hit the mainstream soon.

you were discussing animal print when a figure sat down into the seat on your left. they felt familiar before you even turned around, and you somehow weren’t surprised to see charles grinning sheepishly at you.

“life is funny how it works, no?”

you rolled your eyes and excused yourself, turning back to the editor, only to find she was engrossed in a conversation with her other neighbour. resigned, you faced charles again.

“are you stalking me?” you questioned him.

he understood your sarcasm and laughed, holding his hands up in innocence.

“of course not. it just seems the world wants us to be together.”

he let the words sink in for a moment, then realised his mistake.

“no, i- i didn’t mean together like that, you know? i just meant- erm…”

you try not to laugh at his attempt to explain himself, and place a hand on his knee to stop him from bumbling.

“so how’d you get invited? are you a model or something?” you decided to ask, the question having been on your mind for a while.

he smiled, like he knew something you didn’t, and shook his head.

“nothing like that. i… work with ferrari.”

your lips formed an ‘oh’ of understanding as he kept talking.

“i usually do not come to these things, but i was in town.”

the lights dimmed, ending your conversation before you could reply, but as you turned your attention towards the runway, you felt charles shift towards you and whisper, “i am happy i decided to come. i am here with you,” before moving back as if nothing had happened.

was he flirting with you?

you smiled to yourself, allowing yourself a selfish moment of pride before taking your phone out and recording a video of the first model.

charles didn’t bother you too much for the rest of the show, only leaning over every now and again to share his thoughts on whichever outfit was being walked down the runway. you found yourself agreeing with many of his opinions, and he would smile whenever you told him so.

focussing back on a gorgeous denim set walking past, you caught him in the corner of your eye nodding his head slightly to the music, then pursing his lips and leaning towards you again.

“you look beautiful, by the way,” he murmured softly, “i don’t know what you look like when you’re not at fashion shows, but i’m sure it’s beautiful too.”

oh, he was definitely flirting.

another model walked past, and you took the opportunity to lean over and whisper back in his ear, “i can’t lie and say you’re not pretty handsome too.”

a slight flush covered his cheeks, though you couldn’t say definitively that it wasn’t because of the scarlet dress strutting past at the moment. then, he was quiet for a while, and you worried you had upset him somehow.

your fears were alleviated when you felt his body move closer once more.

“i think we should have a dinner together.”

you turned your head to look at charles in the eyes, to gauge if he was being serious or not.

he looked serious about it, albeit there was a cheeky smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

with the way he was looking at you so intently, how could you not say yes?

“i’m free tonight, if you are too.”

a smile finally broke out on his face as he nodded enthusiastically.

“if you let me rush back to my hotel and change after this, you can pick me up at…” you checked the time on your phone quickly, “nine?”

at his insistence, you scribbled down your number onto a scrap piece of paper you'd found in your purse, making him promise to call when he arrived at your hotel. he replied by pressing the paper to his lips, closing his eyes as he kissed it, then tucking it away in a pocket, returning both of your attentions to the runway, though he was sitting much closer to you than he had been before.

the rest of the show seemed to pass twice as quickly, the idea of your date with the handsome man next to you occupying most of your thoughts, although a few pieces you had eyed up on the runway were also on your mind, making you wonder if you could add them to your personal wardrobe afterwards.

after rocco iannone came out from backstage and thanked everyone for coming, the house lights came on, and a gentle chatter filled the room as the audience bid their goodbyes to each other at the end of the show.

charles offered you his arm, helping you up. no doubt the paparazzi would have a field day with those pictures. you could practically picture the second-rate gossip magazine headlines already.

the two of you navigated your way to the doors, hand in arm the whole way. you exchanged thoughts on the show to each other, telling the other which clothes really caught your attention, or which model surely had a great career ahead of them.

recognising your publicist from earlier, charles dropped you off in front of her, introducing himself when she said hello.

“we’re going to dinner after this,” you mentioned to her, “so after we get back to the hotel, you can have a well-deserved night off, yeah?”

she waved you off jokingly and, after glancing down at her phone, told you your driver would be pulling up about now.

“i’ll call you when i am there to pick you up, chérie.” charles stepped away from you, kissing your hand again before disappearing into the crowd, presumably to find his team.

“he’s very charming~” your publicist nudged your shoulder, teasing you.

you rolled your eyes at her antics and took your arm in hers, leading the both of you outside to find the car.

—

you settled into the rented sprinter van and rested your head on your hand, watching the lights of the city zoom past your window as you drove down the streets of milan.

you snapped out of it when you heard your publicist calling your name. you’d missed what she’d said, so you were left staring at her as she pushed her phone into your face.

it took a second to focus on the bright screen suddenly in your vision.

what you saw was a photo of charles and you from earlier in the night on vogue italia.

in the caption, though, was a description of your job and his.

‘charles leclerc, pilota di formula uno per la scuderia ferrari.’

scuderia ferrari formula one driver.

his words from before suddenly echoed in your head and you caught yourself grinning at the realisation. you’d assumed he was just a corporate employee, but no— he was one of two drivers upholding the entire ferrari legacy in formula one right now.

somehow, you were even more excited for your dinner now, and if nothing came of the date, you could at least go home to your friends and laugh about the first time you’d met a formula one driver. biting back another smile, you were already picturing your wardrobe at the hotel, mentally picking out what you should wear.

141 notes · View notes

artist-issues · 2 months ago

Note

Sounds like Moana 2 felt like the rushed tv movie it was supposed to be.

THIS IS THE MOANA 2 CRITIQUE POST

I'm tired of excusing things with the word "rushed." If you have less time to produce, you should simplify what you're trying to say. That way, all your small amount of time can be spent on carefully building the best way to say it. Moana 2 felt very unfocused. It felt like it was trying to say:

"You Can’t Survive in Isolation" (but like why not? why do they need their neighboring islands? Don’t make up a reason—tell me the reason the movie showed you.)

"There's Always Another Way” (what? As opposed to what? One way? What One Way was Moana demonstrably sticking to before the not-really-villainess sang her song? Wasn’t finding that One Way ((“learning where to go by remembering who you are/where you’ve been”)) the whole point of the first movie? Now we’re throwing that out the window?)

"Together But a Little Different" ("Different" as in 'In-New-Circumstances' not "Different" as in 'We’re-Different-So-It’s-Hard-to-Relate-to-One-Another,’ which would've been the better, more cohesive sense of ‘Different’.)

“Something-Something Stories Are Important” (literally they just substitute the phrase “we’ll die” with “our story will end.” No mention of why that’s bad, or what makes a story a story, no reason why stories are important, or what for, just throwing the word “story” around vaguely.)

And none of those "themes" I listed just now had a lot of work put into them. That’s it, in a nutshell. But I can flesh-out my argument for those, and present what I think they could’ve easily done differently, if they’d just picked one and worked hard to make it simply good. SPOILERS BELOW.

“You Can’t Survive in Isolation”

We're told in a quick vision that Moana's people will die if they stay in isolation—but there's no showing us that.

In fact, what we've been shown is that they're thriving, they're fine by themselves. They were in the first movie. They are at the beginning of the second.

So we're not convinced that they need what the whole adventure is supposedly about. Compare that to the first movie! Totally doesn't measure up to the storytelling quality!

In the first movie, the whole first act sets up the idea of darkness reaching through the ocean from Tefiti's missing heart, killing everything. That’s especially bad for Moana’s people. We know that because we’re shown how Moana's people are so deeply connected to the ecosystem of their island, and how every part of it is needed for their way of life to continue—then were also shown that Moana has a deep, personal longing to leave the island. There’s a real connection to home and an urgent need to leave it, and that creates really good emotional tension.

So by the time we're shown (not told in one scene, or through snatches of overdone dialogue, but shown) how the darkness will destroy everything if she doesn't go, we really believe it. We have lots of reasons to empathize with and believe in Moana’s reason for going on this mission. We also feel for her having to make the big decision; we’ve been shown that she’s trying to live up to her responsibilities, and leaving the island would seem like a dismissal of those responsibilities, but we can also see how doing nothing and staying actually would be a dismissal. We feel that tension because they showed us several believable reasons to feel it.

But when Moana is singing “Beyond,” which is supposedly about her conflicting feelings about leaving, and the need to go? I’m just bored. Not emotionally invested. I just saw her going back-and-forth, leaving and coming back, leaving and coming back, one song ago, in “We’re Back.” And everything was fine during that song. Leaving-And-Coming-Back is the dream she’s been living as a voyager. So why is she suddenly convinced it’s a hard decision to…leave-and-plan-to-come-back?

“Because the last voyager died doing this mission she’s about to go on! She might die too!” Okay but all you did was tell me that. You didn’t show me Moana nearly-dying (like she did the first time she tried to cross the reef, or the first time she tried to tackle Te Ka on her own) and then realizing, “gee, oh no, I could die this time,” and then having to make a renewed decision to go anyway. You didn’t put work in, so I don’t believe it.

But the emotion Moana is feeling about leaving is also undercut, like I said, because there doesn’t seem to be a need for her to leave. All they did was tell me that Motunui is in trouble if it stays isolated. But no proof. They were fine isolated from other islands in Moana 1. They have been fine up until now in Moana 2. One random vision of an empty pavilion for three seconds isn’t going to make me forget that and believe that continued isolation will do anything negative to them.

And another thing, what does “uniting with other islands” even mean?” Why would it be such a good thing?

Nobody mentions trade. Nobody mentions learning from one another, or demonstrates learning from one another. Honestly, having Kele teach Moana or Moni or the Kakamora, an actual other-islander, about farming would’ve been a great demonstration of “why we need to meet new people and get out more.”

Having Kele LEARN TO SWIM would have been a SLOW ONE DOWN THE MIDDLE.

But nooo. They just half-bake suggest the idea that the old man doesn’t like leaving his comfort zone, but then never let one of the others have a real conversation with him about why he needs to learn new things from new people. NEVER. It’s just “bouncy vague song, almost-jump-in-the-water-under-coercion BUT NEVER ACTUALLY DO IT, banter and one liners” for the rest of the movie! (And don’t tell me Kele “learning to speak Kakamora” was an example of him “getting out of his comfort zone.” No. Kele never demonstrated a lack of desire to meet and learn new things from strangers. He demonstrated a hatred of fun and the ocean. All the others could also understand the Kakamora literally whenever they needed to, so that wasn’t a special-character-arc for Kele.)

Even though, my point is, they could’ve easily had a character arc for Kele. And that would’ve had something to do with “learn new things from new people, or die stagnant and stuck in your ways,” look, see, a mini-object-lesson in one character’s journey about the theme of the movie. But noooo

They could’ve done the same type of “learn-something-new-or-die” with Moni. Have him be convinced that doing things the “traditional Motunui Wayfinding Way” on this, his first adventure, is the ONLY way to do things. But he’s not good at it, no matter how much head-knowledge he has. And then the Kakamora (or literally any non-Motunui-character) could’ve shown him a newly-developed style for him to learn and grow.

They could’ve done the same type of “learn-something-new-or-die” with Loto. But nope. She just has a really poorly-done, poorly-written, poorly-performed snippet of a song where she mentions how… “perfection is a myth, the journey is just failing, learning, then death, no destination, ever.” But that ridiculous, absolutely absurd worldview is not portrayed as something she’s wrong about or needs to grow out of. It’s portrayed as a good, quirky, revolutionary thing.

But that’s not the same thing as portraying the value I’m describing. Loto just sings about it and invents-and-reinvents canoes. She does not learn how to make canoes from outsiders. She doesn’t learn anything from anybody. She is portrayed as a solitary genius with her own ideas who’s never once shown to be wrong about anything in the whole movie, and everything she tries works. She never messes up or makes a mistake, for all her singing about it. So she never actually “falls on her face, then gets up and learns.” Even though learning from others would be the literal only way for her character to portray the idea of this vague theme they throw out there, “You Can’t Survive in Isolation.”

The point is: there is no reason, in-movie, SHOWN, for the audience to believe that Moana should “re-unite the islands.” There’s no believable demonstration of why that would be a good thing, and no believable demonstration of why not doing it would be a bad thing.

So then why do we care if she risks her life and Maui’s life to re-unite the islands? For a bunch of nameless nobody background characters to show up for a five-second afterparty on Motunui at the end? Ridiculous.

Moving on.

“There’s Always Another Way”

So BUMP ALL THAT, I GUESS.

Matangi, everybody’s Cherished Hope for a New Villain, sings a song and it’s about “get lost, there is no one way, there’s always a different way.”

Fine. Cool. Whatever. The whole point of the first movie was that there’s this symbolic, ancient, WAY of sailing and living your life bravely. And Moana doesn’t know what that One WAY is because her tribe had forgotten it, so she has to learn it. It’s cool, because you navigate by looking at where you’ve been, to see where you’re going. It’s the whole “remember who you are in order to face life’s challenges, not hide from them.” That’s “the Way.” But whatever. Dump that down the toilet, new movie. You know why? Because everybody’s obsessed with “There’s No One Truth,” and “There Is No Right and Wrong,” and “Let’s Experience Things Just to Experience Them, the Journey is the Destination Because We’re not Going Anywhere!” Blah blah blah ridiculous inane sewage slop.

BUT whatever, fine, IF you mean it in a “There’s Lot’s of Ways to Solve Most Problems, Try Try Again,” sense, that’s okay. That’s true for most problems (not all, but most, certainly there are more than one ways to sail.) Sure. that message, if that’s what they mean, is fine. That’s the sense in which Moana takes it, at least, when she dives down to touch the Core Island and break the curse instead of it rising.

But you know what? Yeah. They don’t flesh it out. They don’t take time to show that that’s what’s happening. Moana doesn’t try to teach her new crew how to sail, and they suck at it, but if she lets them do it their own way or whatever, then they work—and she learns there’s “more than one way.” That doesn’t happen.

The Kakamora that joins their team doesn’t solve all his problems with blow darts, or violence, or whatever—and then Moana, or the kindhearted Moni, or the peaceful Kele, tells him, “no, there’s another way, you don’t always have to do things your violent way.” That doesn’t happen.

Loto has one moment where she applies the way she was already living according-to, from the moment we meet her, not a NEW way, to the canoe so that the gang can out-sail magical waterspouts. And it works for like twenty seconds, is played like a great triumph, before they all get smashed into the ocean anyway.

Kele, again, would’ve been a great example of “learn to do things in a different way, or problem-solve by try-trying again.” Because he’s old and they set him up as hating life for no reason and not wanting to do new things. But they didn’t do anything with him.

And guess what else—at the end—when Moana has her own demigod powers, and her own magical-arm-tattoo ripped off from Tears of the Kingdom—guess what her magic power is?

To stick her oar in the water, and light up one current or “path” for the boat to take to a new destination.

A Path. ONE SINGULAR SOLITARY WAY.

Not “a new way.” Not “all possible ways.” Not “multiple ways.” Not even two ways. One. Even though the big lesson she sacrificed her life for, even though the one and only song Matangi got to sing, was about how “there’s always another way.”

WHILE they’re singing a reprise of, “We Know THE Way.”

It’s like being in a conversation with someone who starts a sentence and then forgets what they were saying halfway through, and winds up saying worse than nothing.

“Together, But a Little Different”

Like I said, if you told me that the Main Point of the movie (not one of many vague ideas, but the Main Point) was “Together, But a Little Different,” I immediately would’ve said:

“Oh, so it’s about having to adjust to long-distance relationships. Maybe even death.” Or, maybe, because I saw the trailers, I’d go, “Oh, so it’s about keeping what makes us unique, but uniting when we need to, in spite of our differences. ‘Together, But a Little Different.’”

No. It’s not about any of that. It’s just a phrase the Grandma’s Ghost says whenever she hugs Moana to remind her that she’s still “with her.” She’s still with her; she just glows and can shapeshift into a manta ray now! That has tons of application for real life. 🙄

It’s supposed to be her words of comfort to pass on to Moana, who can then pass it on to the people in her island, so they know that she won’t “ever really leave them.” But like. Then why should I care that she’s leaving them? Why should that be sad? If there’s no sacrifice in being apart, in leaving for the adventure, then the adventure keeps feeling low-stakes and boring and kind of pointless.

If you tilt your head and squint, it’s also maybe-applying to Moana’s pointless ugly annoying Little Sister character, Simea. Simea is in the movie so that someone can be immature for three seconds about how Moana’s always gone from home. And I do mean exactly three seconds, that’s all the emotional drama we get, and it’s not built up to either. She says, “Never come back? -sniff sniffle- I don’t want you to gooo!” And then runs away and then Moana takes a break from singing the next day to briefly explain to Simea about how she can pass messages through the ocean. Then she’s fine.

But the way this theme is thrown around, you think it would mean, “Moana Has to Go Away Sometimes, But if You Remember Her She Never Leaves You.”

But seriously. Again I say to you, who cares? We know Moana is coming back. We know that. Nobody in the audience seriously believes she’s never coming back when she leaves for this adventure. If we did, maybe we’d care that Simea cares. But we don’t.

Even when Moana “dies,” and it’s the perfect time to be like, “seeee, what we feeeared has happened, she’s dead, she can never go home to Simea!” THERE IS NO FOLLOW-THROUGH. There’s not even a cut to Simea back on Motonui, feeling through the ocean or the Force or whatever movie mumbo-jumbo that her sister is gone. And there is not even a deadline, in the movie, for Moana to accomplish this mission, so it’s not like she could be running late and we could get some scenes of Moana’s family mourning. Simea having to do something, take some big step, that show’s she’s willing to go on even if she can’t be with Moana anymore because she believed Moana about how she’s always with her—something like that.

My point is, Simea has no real point, so she doesn’t add to this “Together, But Different.” idea at all. And we already know that it doesn’t mean, “overcome our differences” from what I said in the first Theme.

But what they could have done? They COULD have gone whole-hog and MADE MOANA A BELIEVABLE DEMIGOD. Instead of a vague joke about tattoos that leaves the question open-ended, a pointless and theme-breaking display of shiny superpowers, and no other change to the status quo—

—they could’ve shown that there are consequences to that action—maybe she’s a Demigod of Navigation, or something like that, and the condition is, she can sail around connecting islands, but she can never stay on one too long. So she’ll never be able to live with Simea and her parents again on Motunui, but it’s the price she has to pay to connect the islands. Then she’d have to show Simea how they can still be “Together, Just a Little Different.”

Or someone could’ve gotten hurt or disabled, giving off the idea that even though everything is “different,” they can still be “together.”

Maui could’ve died and passed his fishhook powers, AND MINI MAUI, on to Moni or Moana. “Together, but different.”

Nothing, nothing at all like that happens. It’s just a pretty phrase that could’ve meant something, but any meaning it actually has hamstrings the whole emotional weight of the story instead of fueling it.

“Something-Something Stories Are Important”

The thing here is. I already said it. You can’t just say words and expect them to be impactful, in a story. You’re supposed to show what they mean and why they’re true, and THAT’S what creates an impact.

So when you’re talking about “stories” in a story, you definitely should not have nothing to say.

And I can feel it. I’ve seen none of the promotional material, I don’t watch the interviews, I haven’t checked BuzzFeed or ScreenRant or the Disney Youtube page in a while, but I can feel it.

I can feel them trying to say, “Something Something, ‘Storytelling’ is a big part of Pacific Islander Culture!” I can imagine the headlines. “[Actor or Disney Exec Name Here] Invites You to Celebrate Your Story with Pacific Islander Heritage Month!” They’re so into “culture as a marketing tool” these days.

But they say it so lazily. Just repeating the word “story” over and over in the movie doesn’t pay tribute to how important “stories” are to Pacific Islanders. Or to anybody.

You know what makes stories impactful? They point at truth, when the darkness and misunderstandings and evil of the world threaten to distract you or hide the truth. That’s what makes stories impactful. I’m sure Pacific Islanders use stories in that way—to pass on what they believe to be true, in a way that can be retold and remembered.

So MAKE THAT THE THEME OF YOUR MOVIE. Instead of just having Moana replace “Nalo wants to kill us” with “Nalo wants to end our story” for Empty Effect—instead of having Grandma say something about “your e

Okay okay.

Nalo is a silly, lazy villain. He is clearly a Thanos rip-off in design and introduction in a literal post-credits scene, and his most-present form, in the movie, is just a big ocean thunderstorm. But the laziest thing about him is that he’s the Conflict that everyone is trying to rise up and overcome, and the whole reason he sunk the Island was “He gets power from humans being divided.”

That’s never explained. It’s never shown at all why he gets power from the vague “humans are divided” thing. He has no scenes. He has no interactions with other characters (till the end-credits scene.) A range of his power, like “here��s what it looks like when the humans are divided—oh, now here’s how much less-powerful he is when they’re together!” is never shown. So. No consequences if the heroes fail, no change to the status-quo, villain-wise, when they win.

If Nalo wanted to end their stories, though, that would be another thing.

Stories are meant to be told. They’re for the benefit of others. So what they should’ve done is made the secret key of Nalo’s power hidden. Unknown. Nobody knows how to beat him. And he’s not sinking some unfindable island in another dimension. He’s just devouring the resources of the weather with his ever-more-powerful storms, (kind of like the darkness leaking through the ocean from the first movie) and nobody can stop him.

But that’s because each island, around Oceania, has clues to how to beat him. Clues in their stories. But they can only sail so far from what they know before his storms kill them. So he’s literally making them weaker by using his power to keep them apart, and making himself stronger by defending his weakness. Now they can’t Wayfind to each other, and learn one another’s cultural advancements or stories or beauties, because Nalo is powerful enough to make storms that rip their boats apart. But if they could learn from one another’s stories about the things their ancestors used against him, they could get rid of him.

That’s what they should’ve done. Shown why Nalo was a threat and how the Main Theme was the key to overcoming that threat.

They did not do that.

They made stories just a hot button word to be thrown around with no impact. In a story.

The point of this post is that Moana 2 had a lot of potentially-good points, and it made none of them, so it was totally unsatisfying. If it had just focused on one, the other little benefits they were trying to fit in could’ve been mentioned more naturally.

The way that Beauty & the Beast is all about ONE theme: “True Love is Self-Sacrificial.” But because of the tools it uses to tell that story—a beast that it would take a lot of self-sacrifice to be stuck with forever—you get little side-themes thrown in, supporting and draping decoratively over the ONE theme: “Beauty is Found Within, So Don’t Be Deceived By Appearances,” etc.

Moana 2 should’ve just picked the Story One, and it could’ve had that theme, and it’s cultural-nod cake, and it’s unifying-effect cake, and EATEN IT TOO.

And we could’ve eaten it. And WE could’ve enjoyed it! But no. Money money money lazy lazy lazy.

186 notes · View notes

bubbless-s · 7 months ago

Text

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ A brushstroke of love ᝰ.ᐟ

Request: “I don’t know if you still take Harry Potter requests but can you do slytherin boys (and pansy) walking on you doing your pre shower makeup?”

Masterlist

- ʚɞ genre: fluffly, light entertainment

- ʚɞ warnings: none

Tom Riddle

✧ Gets annoyed.

✧ “Why are you wasting your make up?”

✧ Still doesn’t get why you waste time and energy doing this.

✧ You jumpscared him once because you had done a minion full face make up.

✧ it just happened that you were walking after him and he suddenly turned.

✧ Starts hating the pre shower makeup even more.

✧ Would rather die then tell anyone that he got jumpscared by your face in yellow.

Mattheo Riddle

✧ “Love what the fuck.”

✧ Will NEVER let you do it on him.

✧ You will give him kisses? No—wait kisses?

✧ Well since you will give him compensation he will sit trough it.

✧ “I look like what you would get when you search ghetto make up on google.”

✧ Likes it more if you put lipstick on and kiss his whole face.

✧ He is like a energetic 9yo who ate tons of chocolate. So in conclusion he can’t stay still for too long.

Theodore Nott

✧ Thinks its funny since he has done it too.

✧ Buys you those shitty kid make up products so you don’t waste your expensive makeup.

✧ Secretly takes pictures of you and threatens to post it.

✧ But he never will.

✧ Let’s you do his brows because he finds it hilarious how he looks with big brows drawn with a eyeliner from a kid makeup set.

✧ Takes 0,5 pictures of you and himself after the masterpiece makeup is done.

✧ Laughs everytime the dollar store lipstick snaps in half from bad quality and his pressure from applying it.

Draco Malfoy

✧ “Is this what birthday makeup is or..?”

✧ Straight up holding back tears when you force him to try it.

✧ “This is muggle activity I—“ “So is bleaching your hair Malfoy.”

✧ You made his skin match his hair. ‘Accidentally’ with water proof 24h lasting brush.

✧ He almost cried.

✧ Didn’t go to classes that day and didn’t step out of his room.

✧ Also he ‘accidentally’ smudged the makeup in your shirt. Accident happen!

Enzo Berkshire

✧ Traumatised.

✧ “Why do you look like a smurf :(.”

✧ Doesn’t want to do it. But he is supportive. Kinda.

✧ Will get you tons of micellar water so the cleaning process is easier.

✧ If you mess up your mascara and get it all over the tube he won’t also mind cleaning it.

✧ What he will mind is if you try to do it on him.

✧ “My skincare is expensive girl..💅”

Blaise Zabini

✧ Stands in the doorway with a ‘:|’ face.

✧ “Um what are you doing this late at night cupcake?”

✧ Another type to take pictures of you.

✧ Agrees when you offer to do his next.

✧ Suddenly became a professional makeup artist??

✧ And comments and how you blend things and stuff😭

✧ “Im rocking this.”

Pansy Parkinson

✧ “I thought we were doing this together?”

✧ Immediately sits next to you and DEMANDS that you do her makeup too.

✧ In the end you both have matching makeup. You’re painted in pink she is in blue. (Stitch and his gf)

✧ “I look so cute. But you’re the cutest.”

✧ Kisses your face anyway. Who cares if you have kilos of make up on your faces?

✧ “Babe do I have makeup smudges on my arse?” “Don’t worry the only thing I see is fifty pounds of ass😋”

✧ The removing process is another type of pain.

#harry potter x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #enzo berskshire #blaise zabini #blaise zabini x reader #pansy parkinson x reader #pansy parkinson #slytherin boys x reader

315 notes · View notes

iamthatonefangirl · 5 months ago

Note

hey i love your writing and i was just wondering if you could write a harvey x yn thing? could you do the scene in s4e15 where harvey and donna are having the deep conversation and at the end harvey goes “you know i love you donna”, except with yn? thank you lovely!!!💗☺️

i can't believe it took me two months to get back to you anon. i am so sorry. hope this scratches your itch!

~~~

As a third-year associate at Pearson Specter Litt, you had been working in the field long enough to understand how the job worked. Winning cases and making a name for yourself were always at the back of your mind, trying to climb the ladder and one day be just as good as Harvey Specter. You admired him as an attorney, and far more as a person.

The Liberty Rail case was one you believed you could contribute quality work to while adding another case to your winning streak.

In your younger years, you had always been so self-assured that throughout your career, you would maintain the rules and laws as they had been set. That was the job, anyway; your strong moral compass and desire to do right in the world had led you to Harvard for law school, and the rest was history.

Somewhere along the way, though, the lines got blurred. You had gone your entire career watching Harvey cross lines, so it was natural that you would learn the same bad habits. You couldn’t point to any one moment to explain when or why you suddenly decided that breaking the rules would lead to better outcomes. Perhaps it was because you admired Harvey’s skills so greatly; perhaps it was for other reasons.

You were desperate for a win in this case, because there was no way you couldn’t win it. That’s what you thought, until you found yourself lying to a receptionist to get access to documents illegally.

You were so excited to have done something for the case, for the firm, for Harvey. You wanted him to be impressed by you. Your feelings for him might have been the driving factor in your choice to commit fraud, wishing you could do something to influence him so he would think of you more highly.

Wishing you could have more of his attention.

Now, you were just lucky that Harvey had been able to get you out of the situation you’d created.

~~~

“Thank you, Harvey,” you told him quietly after an evening of wine and appetizers.

Harvey hadn’t been over to your place very often given that you were professionals. The odd time or two had happened, what with an odd dinner party you’d just laughed about with Harvey. It felt weird to have him in your space; he was like a foreign entity among the tangible items you called yours, and you longed for him to belong in that category, yours. But he wasn’t, and you reminded yourself of that every day.

“You don’t need to thank me. You already thanked me.”

“No, I thanked you for fixing it. Now, I’m thanking you for not bringing it up all night.”

You didn’t think this situation would ultimately come back to bite you in the ass when you got yourself into it. You supposed that in a worst case scenario, you would be able to cover up your tracks and Harvey would never have to find out.

He would never be disappointed in you if he didn’t find out.

Although, deep down. you almost craved to feel his disappointment, because it was the closest you could come to feeling his rejection. To moving on.

“I just figured if you wanted it brought up, you’d bring it up. And now you have, so…” He paused to stare into his glass. “I told you I’d never let anything happen to you, and I won’t, ever. So you don’t ever have to feel scared like that again.”

You felt a familiar pang in your chest, accompanied by the burning in your stomach you felt whenever you were brutally confronted with the reminder that he didn’t want you. His words clawed at your heartstrings, reminding you that he did truly care about you. Just not in the way you hoped.

You tried to brush off what he was saying to you, commenting, “I thought you said you didn’t do the ‘comfort’ thing.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t do it, I said I didn’t have time, because I was so busy saving your ass.”

Once again reminded of the lengths he went to for you. And all you could feel was pain.

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” you told him.

You knew deep down that you could never doubt him, you just didn’t want him to have to clean up your mess. When you tried to convey that to him, it came across as though you didn’t believe in him. You would never be able to tell him how much you believed in him, day in and day out. You believed he was capable of so much, and you loved him dearly for it.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

Your thoughts were overwhelmed by your desire to kiss him in that moment. The way he looked at you made you think that maybe, you weren’t just a crazy little girl desperately in love with her boss. That maybe, you could have more.

“Anyone else ever loses faith in me, it doesn’t matter. But with you, it’s different.”

He still had that look on his face. You thought he might just lean in and give in to you. Thinking about it melted your brain–

“I should go,” he said somberly, to your dismay. He stood, and your heart just about shattered.

Out of nowhere, a wave of confidence shot through your veins like adrenaline, enticing you to stand up and make sure he knew what you wanted.

“Why?” you asked.

“You know why.” You shook your head to indicate that no, you didn’t. You wanted to know why.

“You know I love you.”

Your brain short-circuited.

~~~

“You know I love you,” he expressed, having mustered all the courage he could to be open, to be vulnerable with you.

But you didn’t budge, and he had his answer. So he turned, and began to walk to the door, wondering what he was supposed to do next.

Was he not enough for you? After all he’d just gone through to protect you, he didn’t expect you to be jumping all over him, gushing that you loved him. It would have been nice, though, if you had.

You probably just assumed he was covering his own ass and you were just a liability to him. You could never be a liability to him.

As he rested his hand on the doorknob, he felt you gently pulling at his shoulder. He turned his head, and then the rest of his body, to face you. You looked back and forth between his eyes cautiously, before looking down at your hand on his shoulder. You slid it down to his chest, now resting both hands on him. He tried to keep his breathing steady. Had he been wrong? Had you truly felt something all this time?

As you brought your hand behind his neck and pulled him down to meet your lips with his, all of his worries went away.

~~~

#harvey specter x reader #harvey specter #suits #fem reader #harvey specter x you #self indulgent #self insert #suits tv #my writing

173 notes · View notes

kacievvbbbb · 1 month ago

Text

The Donovan Desmond Theory

In light of the latest chapter.

Donovan Desmond is giving serious Reginal Hargreeves vibes.

But like if I had suspicions that he was a bad dude or at least is involved in some bad things then that’s been cleared up a little bit in the most recent chapters.

I don’t know if I fully believe Desmond is an alien like Melinda thinks I think maybe he has a non human quality to him (like say something like Anya’s powers) combined with his general lack of human understanding it seems I think him being an alien is Melinda’s explanation for what is happening (or you now chances are he could be one but so far the story has remained fairly grounded and so im inclined to believe it will stay that way)

But what I think is most liek let is that he is the one behind the scientific experiments that Anya, bond and probably a whole lot of other dogs and children were subjected to that gave them powers.

Also

Look at the scars on his head. This is just a little lower than where Anya’s comes (which i think are kind of connected to her powers or atleast covering up something connected to her powers) sit. And honestly they just look like brain experimentation scars.

So initially I thought maybe he was the founder of the experimenting giving powers organization looking for a way to perfect or gain powers but now I think that maybe he was one of the first kids to be experimented on. Maybe he was the only one/ one of the only ones/ the most successful experiment, to survive the process and so they make him the poster child of the project and he grows up within it and they are essentially the shadow organization pulling the strings and orchestrating his life. That would explain why he seems to lack so much proper human socialization skills and why he appears odd enough that Melinda thinks he’s an alien.

Or maybe the original organization fell apart in the lead up to the first war and now he’s rebuilding it to try and continue the work or fix what’s wrong with him but I’m inclined to believe he just believes in the work.

All this to say that I think Desmond can read minds like Anya. I think the boys and his family might be part of some side experiment he’s running to see if these powers can be passed down through dna and so he got himself (or the organization set him up with) a family. I think thats the reason he spent a lot of time up close and personal seemingly monitoring Demetrius and his progress. Trying to see if he would develop any special abilities. But he doesn’t and that why Donovan seems to lose interest in his family.

But I think during this time Desmond teaches Demetrius (without explicitly explaining why or what they are doing) how to be impervious to having his mind read I’m guessing incase Demetrius did show promise and would be brought into the fold, and that’s why Anya can’t read him but he seems to have internalized this as simply just not having a stream of consciousness. The only time we hear his thoughts is when he’s thinking about things in the abstract and that’s probably the key to it. He focuses soley on what he is doing right then in every moment and so thereby doesn’t mule anything over enough to have an internal conversation with himself he was probably taught not to “waste time pondering”anything and just to act when it is appropriate to do so, disguised as a very strange business lesson. As he was probably being very intensely instructed on this. But Demetrius shows no signs of any developing powers so Desmond kind of just pushes him to the way side which must have been jarring to suddenly be so unimportant to your father after so many years of such intense observation

Which is why I think Demetrius harbors anger towards his father and doesn’t understand him because what were the lessons for and why did they abruptly stop and why doesn’t anything he do seem to bring them back? But he never really investigates this deeply because the act of not pondering was instilled within him deeply.

So yeah. I think Donovan Desmond can read minds I would also kind of say him saying “this was a worth while evening” after sitting in silence with his family makes me feel like he just read their minds (those of which he could read) and got what he needed to. Which also makes me believe he is still running some kind of passive experiment on them and that’s why he doesn’t want Melinda to interact with Damian so much maybe he’s going the opposite route and seeing if neglect will allow the boys to awaken their possibly latent abilities. I don’t know man I’m just tapping 🤷🏿‍♀️ Donovan Desmond just has the look of someone that’s been experimented on whole Demetrius has the look of someone who withstood all kinds of psychological torture from a young age. Take all this with a grain of salt

67 notes · View notes

itaipava · 1 year ago

Text

— carlos sainz falling in love with you.

carlos always thought you were beautiful, but he truly fell in love with the beauty inside you; he slowly starts to fall in love with more than just your looks, like the way your eyes fill with so much passion and life when you talk about something you love, or the way you spend so much time clumsily baking a cake just to brighten your friend’s day, or even the way you smile at him… god, he’s so lost.

he looks at you a lot; sometimes knowing and sometimes without knowledge, because he just can’t help it, it’s like you attract him in an inexplicable way; and there’s a certain kind of warmth and purity in his eyes, like he says “i’m so lost in you, and i honestly don’t want to find myself anymore.’ but sometimes there is also a feeling of sadness in his eyes as if he senses that he is picking up on feelings for someone who may not feel the same; that you could break his heart into pieces and he would allow it. and when you playfully ask him why he’s looking at you like that, he smiles, his eyes softening before saying, “you know why”,

he protects and cares for you in little ways; he puts his arm in front of you or protects you with his body in crowded places. when it rains suddenly, he covers your head with his jacket or borrows his umbrella. he offers to accompany you to your home every nigh and, when he takes you home, he waits until you are safely inside your house before he leaves. his hand hovers over your face to shield your eyes from the sun when it gets too sunny. and to be honest, he’s too eager to let you wear his sweatshirt or jacket when you show the slightest sign of cold. he also always takes some extra snacks in case you need.

he loves touching you: putting his hand on your back while you go somewhere, putting his arm around you, gently pulling you close, holding your hand, holding your waist while you talk to him — and course he will only do these things if you feel comfortable and okay, because he respects you a lot and just wants to see you well. he loves having this moment with you; this touch and this intimacy. sometimes for you it may be something normal that any friend would do, but for him it is something he will never forget and he feels butterflies in his stomach every single time.

he subtly makes it clear that he only has his eyes for you; when others are talking about people they think are beautiful and their ideal types, he never joins the conversation, and if you’re there, he looks at you very often. if someone asks him to describe his ideal type, his mind immediately goes to you as he describes your qualities and characteristics. in a room full of people, he always wonders where you are as his eyes look around, the passionate smile on his face when you look at him from across the room, in a matter of seconds he’s coming to you to hug you.

he invites you everywhere and just wants excuses to be around you; “so it’s at a <specific time and place>, you know, just in case you change your mind and want to join us.” or “my birthday party this saturday; you will be there, right?” he says with a beam of light and a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he stands in front of you. wherever he is, he always chooses the seat next to yours, even though there are so many empty seats.

he asks you to do small favours for him. he doesn’t even think much of it; he’s just naturally drawn to you. you’re the first person he thinks of and wants to go to if he needs or wants something. and they’re usually very little favours like asking you to choose a colour for a new shirt that he’s buying or borrowing your pen when he forgets to bring one — even if others offer him, he politely refuses because it’s yours that he wants.

he loves talking to you more than anything, and even though he’s far away he still has a way to chat with you; whether through messages or calls or facetime, whenever anything happens, good or bad, you’re always the first person he thinks to tell. no matter how far away you are, you’re always completely up to date on everything that is going on in his life. you’ve never woken up without a good morning text or went to sleep without him calling you and asking about your day.

he becomes softer and more indulgent; he willingly puts up with your teasings and sass without retaliating much. if you pay just a bit of attention, you’ll see the little lingering smile on his face at your witty remarks. others find it equally frustrating and nauseatingly cute how unabashedly biased he is towards you; they’re all trying to convince him to follow them to a new restaurant and carlos puts up a good fight, saying no but the moment they mention you’ll be there, he immediately says “okay, what time?”

#f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x reader #carlos sainz headcanon #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz #cs55 x reader #cs55 imagine

612 notes · View notes

spotsandsocks · 3 months ago

Note

Hiii spotty 💕💕💕

🎃 + dawn/sunrise

-❤️🪐

Hi Saturn, managed to use both words here and it got a little longer at nearly 1k. A little angsty but not too bad. Hope you enjoy. Thank for inspiring me.

“Wondered where you went.”

A quick glance over his shoulder reveals that Hen has that kind of look on her face. Buck looks away quickly, he’s not ready to talk but she already knows that, she’s Hen after all.

The unpleasant scrape of metal on concrete makes him wince as Hen settles down in one of the chairs they use up here. It’s clear she intends to wait him out.

“Don’t worry, no one else is gonna join us.”

That’s not the comfort she thinks it is because it only emphasises who isn’t going to be checking on him and they both know why he can’t and that if he could he wouldn’t need checking up on in the first place. Ironic huh.

The edge of the weather beaten brick beneath his fingers is rough and catches at his skin. The texture and prickle of pain gives him something to focus on other than the reason he’s hiding up here.

“Bobby says come down when you’re ready, but that you don’t have to be ready anytime soon, he said it’s ok to take a minute, it was a rough call.”

It was.

“Eddie said you’d be up here, told me to tell you he’d be here as soon as Chim is done with him, we thought, well he thought I should keep you company until he can.

How considerate of him. Deliberately relaxing his suddenly tense jaw and dropping his shoulders Buck breathes through the surge of anger Eddie sending Hen to check up on him generates. Hen wouldn’t need to be keeping him company if the company he should have after a call hadn’t been so fucking stupid that he needed a full check up and time to convince Chim and Bobby that a trip to the hospital wasn’t required.

“I’m fine.”

He can’t look at her while he lies, not that it matters much, Hen won’t believe him anyway, hell he doesn’t believe him and she’s a lot smarter than he is.

He hears her snort of amusement and she doesn’t even try to hide the sacrasam in her voice,

“Oh I can tell. Totally fine.”

Eyes fixed firmly on what little of the horizon he can see through the LA skyline, the changing quality of light makes it clear that sunrise is just around the corner, a new day is beckoning. It’s a new day that might not have had Eddie in it.

He shuts his eyes but that’s no help because he just sees it all again. The chain of events that rushed past him and led to the accident.

“How’s he doing?”

Addressing the question to the air he doesn’t need to see her face to know what expression is on it.

“It’s not actually as bad as it looked, most of the blood wasn’t even his.”

The words spark another memory and he uses techniques he’s been taught to fight off a fierce wave of nausea. He changes the subject. It’s easier that way.

“I like it up here. It’s quiet. Sometimes I come up and watch the sunrise when I can’t sleep.”

She lets him have a moment of peace then breaks it.

“He didn’t mean to scare anyone, especially you, you know that right?”

He keeps his eyes on the approaching dawn and stays quiet.

“It’s our job. You know that too.”

It is. He does. Doesn’t make it any easier.

“You’ve done the same. Worse even.”

Also true. Also unhelpful. He knows how to spell hypocrite with only four letters without her help.

“It’s going to be hard, you both knew that, but it’ll be harder if you’re not there when it matters. I know that much.”

Her words hit him hard. What if he hadn’t been there. What if they had moved to different shifts or worse stations. What if he’d heard about it later and it hadn’t worked out as well as it had. What if he’d always have to wonder if he could have saved his husband if he’d been there.

Well he was there and he’d stayed calm even if he’d been more terrified than he’d ever been. He’d done what they promised Bobby they’d do. Their job. He’d listened to his Captain, followed his commands. He’d done exactly what Bobby had said. He’d helped get Eddie out of the mess he was in.

It becomes a little easier to breathe.

“Cap says you handled it well. Did your job. He’s proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you too.”

He turns his back on the sunrise because it’s not Hen’s voice this time. His eyes fall on the grazes on his cheek, the deeper cut on his forehead that Chim has treated. He notes every one of the bruises forming on the skin that’s visible and knows there will be more under his clothes that he’ll check later. He looks tired and worried and he’s still far more beautiful than any dawn Buck has ever seen.

Hen’s vanished. It’s just him and his husband, dealing with the aftermath of their first real trauma since they got together.

“Am I forgiven?”

He doesn’t answer just crosses the rooftop to him as fast as he can and holds on, probably too tightly judging by the small sound he makes but Eddie hugs back just as tightly regardless.

“You did your job. Nothing to forgive.”

Eddie kisses his cheek softly, the tension in him vanishing. He sounds relieved.

“So did you, I’m glad you were there.”

He’s not ready to let go yet, and Eddie understands that, so they stay there a while longer, holding each other both remembering the day they shook hands and agreed they could maybe have each other's back.

Today wasn’t the first time they kept that promise and it won’t be the last, it will be hard for them both but they belong beside each other and Buck wouldn’t have it any other way. No matter the cost.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #Spottys trick or treating #in box trick or treating #buddie fic #911 abc #911 fic #911fic

74 notes · View notes

after-witch · 1 year ago

Text

A Morning After [Yandere Uvogin x Reader]

Title: A Morning After [Yandere Uvogin x Reader]

Synopsis: You didn't think about what you and your newly found soulmate Uvogin might do next. Follow up to Late Night Break In.

word count: 2040

notes: yandere, soul mate au

You hadn’t thought about what might come next.

But here you are, sitting in your bedroom while your tall, unusual soulmate rests his chin on his hand, seeming to ponder the events more quietly than you might expect from someone with his appearance.

“So uh,” you interrupt, and he turns to look at you. “What do we… do now?”

Your question seems to surprise him.

“Do?” You can make how his features twisting a little in the night-time light through your window. “Huh, I didn’t really think about that.” The words come sighing out. He’s just as lost as you, which is both a comfort and a worry.

Your fingers grip at your comforter--there’s a brief, stupid flash of a thought about the fact that it was brand name, purchased without a payment plan, and you’d even saved up enough to have it dry-cleaned--and twist at the fabric.

“Well,” you begin, choosing your words carefully. “Are you staying the night? Or um, staying here?” The questions come tumbling out, now that your mind has shaken off the shock of his meeting. “Am I staying here? Are we staying here?” You blink rapidly. “Am I still going into work? Are you going to pay my bills? Do you have bills, wherever you live? Do you have enough room for my things, if I’m not staying? Is there a way I could stay?” You think about what that might mean, living here while your soul mate pops in secretly. But you had a gut feeling that your soul mate was not some ordinary person, and another thought crept in, slower and more serious. “I mean… could I even stay here? Is someone going to come after me or something like that?”

Uvogin regards your incessant barrage of questions with a simple quirk of his eyebrow, and then a quirk of his head, and then a quirk of his mouth. Finally, he simply chuckles and shakes his head.

“You’re something, all right.”

Your lips curl up a little.

“Excuse me?”

He hums and splays his hands out.

“I just said--you’re something.”

You pull the comforter up higher and wrinkle your nose at him.

“Well, don’t make that sound like a bad thing.”

He grins again--you get the feeling, innate, that he can’t quite help it--and puts his hands up in surrender.

“Didn’t mean anything bad by it. I just haven’t met someone like you before.” He looks up at the ceiling, his hair shifting with the movement. “But I guess most people who meet me aren’t talking about bills and houses.”

You should ask something like: What does that mean? Why don’t people talk about casual things to you? Who are you, anyway?

But in your chest you feel something… warm and bitter. Like a twinge of sympathy, maybe. Is that your soul mate bond reacting or something else?

You sigh. Your world suddenly seems both very small and big at the same time, alternating on some wild axis and you don’t know where it will stop.

“Look,” you say, gathering your thoughts. “I… I won’t fight you, if you don’t want me to stay here. I get the impression that you’re not a settling-down-in-one-place type of person.” He snorts, and you continue. “But I really mean it when I say I want my things.”

You feel that pinching in your chest again, and wonder if he feels it, too. “You don’t know how much it took me to get all this. Not just money-wise, but taking the time to research things.” You gesture around your bedroom. “How to tell quality over quantity. How to take care of nice things.”

Your fingers tighten and loose on the comforter again and again.

I”m not rich and I don’t have a lot but… it feels nice to pretend sometimes. You know?”

There are a few moments where he simply looks at you

“Yeah,” he tells you, a little softly. “I get it.”

He sighs, this time a long, stretched out thing. And when he speaks next, he seems to have made some sort of decision.

“Well. For now, I’ll stay the night. It’s late. We can figure out the rest in the morning, can’t we?”

You nod. It really would be more sensible to think on things and approach this with a clear head, although you wonder just how much your opinion mattered in the end here.

But then Uvogin starts to shift as if he’s going to lay down and the noise you make is something in between a squawk and a shout.

“Wait! Wait!”

He freezes.

“There--there isn’t room on the bed for both of us. The weight limit is probably already being stretched, I--”

He shrugs, a big, casual gesture. You think for a moment that he’ll insist, which is something you aren’t comfortable with for more ways than one, but he merely stands up. “No problem. I can sleep on the floor.”

Pinch, pinch, twist goes your chest. What is this feeling, anyway?

“I’ll get some blankets,” you offer, the words coming out slow. You feel both like a terrible host and a victim tonight in the same measure, and you’re not sure which wins out.

You slowly peel your comforter aside and scurry off, feeling his eyes following you all the while. But it doesn’t feel entirely creepy. There’s an intimacy to it--and is this how it feels, to be wanted by your soul mate? Is this how your coworkers feel? Your friends, your family? Those people on TV who gush about finally finding “the one”?

As you return with a pile of carefully folded blankets in your arms, you suddenly can’t blame them, for worrying about you missing out. It feels… nice. Worrisome, sure, considering the circumstances. But you can’t deny that nice warm pull in your chest, even as your logical mind worries about other things.

He watches quietly while you unfold and unfurl the blankets, creating a makeshift bed on the floor. You grab a few extra pillows from your closet and toss them down, cringing a little--they were really nice cases, too, a good thread count. But there was nothing to be done about that. When you’re finished making the floor bed as comfortable as it can possibly be, you glance at him, and he stares down at the creation you’ve made which is… clearly far too small for his frame.

You cough and scurry back to the linen closet and return with more blankets. How big must his bed be, wherever he slept normally? Did he have somewhere to sleep normally? Too many questions, and you wonder if you’ll ever get an answer.

When you’re truly finished making the bed, you glance up at your soulmate, who is sporting a smile on his lips. You wait for him to make some kind of snarky remark, but he says nothing. And… you, you like that. He knows how to tease you, sure, but he apparently knows when to keep it back as well.

Somehow this nice little thought carries you through the process of crawling back into bed, and waiting for him to get settled into the makeshift blanket-bed on the floor.

In the morning, you two will have to talk things through. Maybe in the morning, he’ll be more forthcoming with answers to your questions. Or maybe you will have a clearer head and put your foot down on leaving… or a clearer head and realize that doing such a thing would be truly pointless.

Maybe you can ask him more about how he found you, or ask him if he ever felt lonely or if his friends--did he have friends?--wanted him to find a soulmate like yours so readily did.

Maybe in the morning you’ll ask him how much money he makes, because you’ll have to come up with a budget. He’s so much taller than you, more muscular, he probably eats a ton. Where will the money for that come from? Will you even be able to store that much food in your apartment? Maybe you’ll have to get a new one, if he doesn’t take you somewhere. Maybe he makes enough for an upgrade. Or maybe not.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Maybe it will all make sense in the morning.

That is… if you can fall asleep.

You’re tossing and turning, and it’s not surprising, but it definitely doesn’t help matters. You land somewhere in between on the next toss, staying flat on your back and staring up at your bare white ceiling.

“Uvogin?” You ask, voice soft in the darkness.

There’s no answer at first. He might be asleep. You should just go back to bed.

But then there’s a noise, low but unmistakable, from the floor.

“Hmm?”

You choose your words as carefully as you can.

“I don’t mean to be negative, really, but um. I don’t have the money to buy groceries for 2 people and toiletries for 2 people and a bed for another person--where would it even go?--and I don’t know if I can afford to move--”

You hear the blankets on the floor rustling, and see his figure moving in the dark. He doesn’t stand up, but merely gets up on his knees and looms over the bed. There’s a moment where your heart thuds hard (he’s so close to you) but all he does is put a finger to your lips.

Then he shows a cocky grin, white teeth in the dark.

“Listen. You think too much. Don’t worry your pretty head about stupid things like money. Who cares about that?”

You bristle, and you’re ready to argue but he taps his finger on your lips again.

“It’s not the type of thing you gotta worry about when you’re my soulmate.” You see him rub his nose, considering. “

“Got it?”

He’s waiting for an answer.

“Got it,” you murmur.

He nods and gets back down, taking his position back on the makeshift floor bed.

And you? You stare back up at the ceiling, which until perhaps an hour ago had been nothing more than the white space you were vaguely considering jazzing up with some fake crown molding, like the kind you saw in magazines.

You wonder if Uvogin was the type of person who liked fake crown molding. Or hated it. Or did he care at all? Maybe he had no opinion on home decor, which in your estimation, was practically offensive. Did soulmates like all the same things you did? Or did they--

“Don’t think so much,” his voice interrupts. “It’s like I can hear you thinking in the dark.”

Your lips twist together, frowning.

“I--”

“Go to sleep” he says, a little softer. “We want to go at this with a clear head tomorrow, right?”

It’s your turn to lean up in bed, though you don’t go as far as getting off it. Instead you look down at him, and it’s no surprise to see him staring at you.

“That’s just what I was thinking earlier-- a clear head.”

He nods.

“Yeah, I know.”

You swallow hard, and your fingers go back to twisting the comforter.

“Can you… read my mind?”

He snorts and lets out a chuckle.

“Don’t be stupid.” For some reason, you don’t take offense. It’s the way he says it, maybe. He taps his chest.

The twinge, the pinch, the pull.

“Ah,” you say, and rest your head back down on the pillow. This time, you turn so that you’re on your side, facing the interior of your bedroom and the spot where Uvogin was set up to sleep. Although he wasn’t doing it anymore than you were at the moment, obviously.

He looks at you for a few more moments, then closes his eyes.

“Go to bed.”

“Okay,” you murmur, closing your eyes. This time, you begin to feel the tug and pull of sleep, shutting down your conscious thought and leaving you drifting with threads that went nowhere.

Maybe things would truly be clearer for the both of you in the morning.

#yandere uvogin #yandere uvogin x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere #afterwitch writes

625 notes · View notes