#i am begging you to engage with the fucking text

[loxosceleslolo]

fromsoft: we are being super specific about the Greater Will going out for milk and never returning. we aren't usually this forthright so this is clearly important

elden ring fans: so anyway the Greater Will is a control freak who wants to control everything and is puppeting Marika--

[no-144444]

HI! i love your writing and i was wondering if you would do a grid reacts to us finding out we were a bet? And if you wouldn't mind adding Logan too?

Thanks ml xxxx

the grid reacts: you find out you're a bet!

Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, George Russell, Alex Albon, Charles LeClerc, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Lando Norris

thank you for requesting! xxxx

-----------------

Oscar Piastri:

He walked into your shared apartment, a smile on his face. He hadn’t seen you in a week, and you’d both been too busy to call or text too much, so finally, he’d be back with his girl. 

He wasn’t expecting the bare apartment he’d known so well before you’d moved in. He wasn’t expecting your things to be gone, or the note on the table, or your engagement ring beside it. 

Dear Oscar, 

I found out. I know we were a bet, and I know you’d try to convince me that you loved me, and that it was all real. I don’t doubt that it was real. I know I loved you, and I felt the love from you (either that, or you’re a brilliant actor and picked the wrong profession). But I feel betrayed. I wish you would’ve just come to me immediately and told me how we started, even if I was mad at you for a while. You kept a huge secret for 2 years, Oscar. That’s not a short amount of time. I love you, and I still love you, but I need some time on my own to figure stuff out. I moved back out into my old apartment, and don’t worry, I’m still your girlfriend, but I just wanted space to think. We’ll work our way back up to being fiancé’s but until then, I am still very much yours, unless you don’t want me to be. I need to trust you again. 

Love, Y/n. 

His heart sank. He knew it was stupid to try and keep it a secret, and it had truly been tearing him apart for the last 2 years, but this… this was too much. He was thankful that you two at least we’re breaking up. But the engagement reversal thing was fucking with him. He adored you. He loved you. Yes, it was stupid, but he did stupid stuff all the time. Forgetting his keys, sleeping through his alarm, wearing his shirt inside out. You always told him it was endearing. 

��Hey,” your voice brought him out of his trance. “I wanted to be here when you came back, sorry, there was traffic.”

He turned around to see you. You looked at him. He was crying.

“I’m so sorry,” his voice broke as you nodded. 

“I know you are,” you stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “We’ll get through this, yeah?”

He nodded, burying his head in the crook of your neck. You let him cry it out for a little while, then pulled away. 

“You’ll be ok, we’ll be ok, yeah?”

He sniffled. “Yeah.”

“I love you,” you reminded him, wiping away tears as you went along. 

“I love you so much, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just… I was so scared a-and-”

“I understand,” you nodded. “But that doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

He nodded, playing with your engagement ring in his hands. He broke again, sobbing. You wrapped your arms around him again, letting him calm himself down. “Please put it back on,” he whispered, begging you. 

You thought about it for a moment. You loved Oscar, and you knew you’d forgive him. It was harder not to forgive him, in all honesty. You’d read his hundreds of drafts of the speeches he had planned to say to you. Lando had shown them to you when he told you. You knew how this had been tearing him apart. But you knew how it stung, being betrayed like this. 

“Ok,” you nodded. He slipped the ring back onto your finger and a weight was lifted off of his chest, while one was placed onto yours. 

God, maybe love did conquer all. And that idea fucking terrified you. 

-----------------

Logan Sargeant:

“Go up to her, she’s a McLaren engineer,” Lewis’s friend’s voice rang out over the speaker of your phone. “I’ll give you 2 grand if you can fuck her tonight.”

“It’s not like I need the money,” Logan smirked, cocky as ever. “But I’ll take that.”

The camera panned to Logan walking up to you, and your world shattered. 

------

“Hey babe,” he called, walking into the apartment. There you were sitting, seething on the couch. “How was your weekend?”

“Great,” you answered shortly. “Have you looked at social media recently?”

“No, why?” he asked, resting his hands on your waist. He tried not to read into your stiff posture. Was this the moment? Had you really found out? 

“I was a bet,” you sighed, brushing his hands off of you. “And you didn’t even have the heart to tell me.”

You hadn’t planned on crying, you thought you’d scream at him, give him a piece of your mind, but it was hard to get angry when he was standing there, looking so helpless. You loved him, and all you’d ever been to him was a bet. You’d only met a year ago, started dating 6 months ago. You’d meant nothing the entire time. Just a fuck and a check. You just felt… defeated, and used. 

“Baby please, let me explain, it’s not what-” He started but you sighed.

“Explain what? That you ‘love’ me? I don’t care. I deserve someone who tells me the truth, and you couldn’t even do that. I had to find out with the rest of the world. Don’t you realise how stupid I look? All the posts I made, everything I told my friends and family, and the entire time it’s all been a lie? I look like a fucking idiot.” 

Logan looked down, ashamed. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, taking your hand. “I’ll do anything to make this right, please Y/n, I love you.”

“How am I supposed to trust you? And how am I going to look going back to you? Why did you fuck this all up?” You groaned in frustration. “I fucking loved you!” 

“I love you too!” he pleaded. “Please let me make this right, I don’t care about the media, or whatever, I care about you, and I care about us.”

“What ‘us’? We’ve been based on a lie this entire time!”

“Please don’t say that,” he was crying now, so were you. “Please don’t say it was a lie.” 

You took your hand from his. “Logan, we’re done. Please don’t contact me.”

And that was that. He broke your heart and you broke his. 

-----------------

Daniel Riccardo: 

He watched in horror as you opened the message on his phone from Scotty. 

“You have to tell her. This isn’t right anymore Dan.”

“What is Scott talking about?” You chuckled. 

“Nothing,” Daniel smiled, but it looked forced. 

“Dan, come on, you can tell me,” you smiled sweetly. 

“Seriously, I have no clue what he’s talking about,” he nervously chuckled. 

Your face dropped into an angry frown. “So he was right, you wouldn’t even admit it if I gave you the chance,” you sighed. “That’s great, thanks Daniel.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I know about the bet,” you sighed. “Scotty told me last week.”

Daniel sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” you turned to him. “Why would you lie?” 

“I was scared.”

“Of what?” 

“Of losing you,” he shrugged. “I thought it would just be better to… keep you in the dark I guess. I wasn’t really thinking straight.”

“I wish you would’ve just told me,” you sighed, looking up at him. 

You were both silent for a moment.

“What does this mean for us?” he asked. 

“What ‘us’? We were based on a lie Daniel. A lie you told for a whole year.”

“So that’s it?” he gritted out. 

“That’s it.”

-----------------

George Russell: 

“Have you talked to her about it yet?” Alex asked. “You have to tell her mate, it’s gone on too long.”

“It’s been 6 months Alex, and, by the way, I actually love her,” he scoffed. “I’m trying to figure out the best way to explain it.”

“Explain what? That you were dared to ask her out for money? Mate, you sound like a dick no matter what, she’ll break up with you no matter what,” Alex sighed, disappointed in his friend. 

“She’s probably right to,” George admitted. “Fuck!” he groaned. 

You stepped into the room, trying to pretend that everything was alright. Both of the men looked up, terrified of what came next. 

“Please let me explain,” George rushed out, taking your hand. Alex quickly left you two to speak alone, patting you on the back as he left. George stood up and took your hand. 

You nodded. “Explain.”

George’s frown lifted slightly, elated that you would even give him the chance to explain. “It was a stupid bet and I never took any money. I stopped speaking to the guys after we met, and I promise I’ve been trying to tell you, I just… I get scared every time that I’ll lose you. I don’t deserve you, but I love you Y/n. And I’m so sorry.”

You nodded. “I just… give me some time, yeah?”

He nodded. “All the time you need, of course.” 

You took a deep breath, wrapping your arms around his neck in a short hug. “I’ll call you, yeah?”

He nodded, letting himself enjoy your embrace. “Please call me. Anytime.”

You pulled back, still holding back your tears somehow. “Yeah. Good luck today.”

“If I win, it’ll be for you. It’s always for you,” he smiled softly. 

“Yeah,” you sighed, leaving with a broken heart, and a choice to make. 

-----------------

Alex Albon: 

“Can we talk?” Alex asked, 2 months in.

“About what?” you questioned. You were sitting in his apartment in Monaco, eating dinner before catching a movie at a nearby cinema. 

“How we met.”

“Proceed,” you nodded, turning your full attention to him. 

“We met at Jimmy’s, and I was there with my friends, and we were being assholes, and I'm sorry that’s how you met me,” he hesitated. “And that night, I was dared to go up to you, only because they knew I’d never get a chance with you because you’re… well, you’re you, and I’m me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but we were just having so much fun and-”

“You thought you couldn’t get a chance with me?” You chuckled. 

Alex looked up. “Well, no. You’re gorgeous-”

“You’re a very hot Formula 1 driver! Alex, I was losing it when you came up to me!” 

“I thought you didn’t know anything about F1?!” 

“I don’t! But I know about hot famous guys!”

“You liar!” he laughed. 

“You lied too!” you laughed. 

He smiled. “ I guess we’re pretty evenly matched then, yeah?”

“I guess,” you shrugged, then leaned over and pressed your lips to his. 

-----------------

Charles Leclerc: 

You and Charles were new, like new new.But he’d invited you to the paddock nonetheless, and you had the weekend off, so off you went to the Ferrari garage. You’d met the so-called ‘Prince of Monaco’ at an Indycar event a few months back when he got your number, and since then you’d been texting back and forth. He finally asked you out, and you agreed, I mean, who wouldn’t, right? Even though you worked in Indycar, you were a born and raised Monegasquean and you were proud of your heritage, and pretty excited to be dating the Monegasque. 

“Oh shit,” Pierre grumbled, bumping into you. Recognition finally crossed his face and he smiled. “Y/n, right? We met at the Indycar thing, right?”

“Hi Pierre, yeah, nice to see you,” you smiled. Behind him came Charles, a bright smile for you. 

“Are you here for work or-? Oh, for Charles,” he smirked and turned back to Charles . “Le pari est-il toujours valable?” (is the bet still on?)

Your face faltered. Charles didn’t tell you about any bet. What bet?

“Je ne lui ai pas encore dit,” Charles mumbled. Pierre’s smirk grew, as did the sinking pit in your stomach. (I haven’t told her yet.)

“Hey,” Charles turned to you with a smile on his face. 

“Hi,” you nodded, more reserved than before. “Congrats on pole.”

His smile dampened. “Is everything alright?”

“All good,” you mustered up your fakest smile. “Ne parie peut-être pas sur une fille qui vit à Monaco, connard.” (Maybe don't make a bet over a girl who lives in Monaco, asshole.) 

Charles looked dumbstruck for a moment, and you left him like that. You were worth more than that. 

-----------------

Lewis Hamilton: 

“Have you told her yet?” George asked, eying you from the other side of the garage. 

Lewis shook his head. “I can’t find the right time.” “You need to tell her soon, it’s only a matter of time before someone else tells her.” 

“I know I do, I just… everytime I try to bring it up it’s like she’s extra sweet and perfect and I just can’t break her heart like that-”

“Break who’s heart?” you asked, standing beside Lewis. 

George shot him a look to say ‘tell her now’, and he nodded. George left you two to talk. 

“I was… I came up to you… I-”

“It was a bet to ask me out, I know,” you nodded, sipping your drink. “Whose heart are you breaking?”

Lewis’s brow furrowed. “Yours?”

“I overheard you and your friends at the bar that night,” you explained. “I don’t care. We’re dating because of it, I love you, blah, blah, blah,” you smiled. “Unless it’s been a charade the whole time-”

“NO! It hasn’t, I love you, I promise,” he wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed kisses to your cheek as you laughed. 

“You thought that would break my heart?”

His ego was becoming a little bit more than bruised. “Hey!”

You laughed. “OK, ok, relax. Yes, it would’ve broken my heart,” you teased. 

He pushed you off, smiling. “I don’t want your pity-”

“Not even a pity fuck?” you whispered, a mischievous smirk on your lips.  

He smiled. “Well, I always want that.”

-----------------

Max Verstappen: 

“Fuck this game!” Max cursed after his game had crashed for the third time. You made your way into the living room, looking in on the game.

“Everything alright?” you asked. 

“All good, sorry liefje,” he responded, not even turning around. 

“Is that the girl we put the bets on?” One of his friends asked. Max panicked and shut down the stream, then immediately turned to you. 

“Liefje…” he started. You stood there in shock. 

“Is that true?” you started. “Was I a fucking bet?!” you shouted. 

“It- I- Yes, it started like that, but I love you, I-I’m in love with you!” 

“How can I ever fucking trust you?” you shot back. “You’re a liar!”

“I’m sorry-”

“What the fuck does ‘sorry’ do? I’m leaving Max. You are so not the man I thought you were,” you pushed past him, grabbing some of your essentials from your bedroom as he followed behind you, begging you to stay. 

You left. He was the one who messed up. 

All because of a dumb bet. 

-----------------

Lando Norris: 

He was sweating through his shirt. Max’s eyes bore into him all night, more specifically, how his arm was draped over your shoulder. He understood his best friend’s confusion. It was mere months ago that Lando had been dared to go up to you and ask you out, mere months ago when he sent a photo into the group chat of you sleeping soundly beside him, asking for the transfers from the men who’d told him to ask you out and somehow get you back into his bed before the next morning. Since then, things had in fact changed. He had changed. You had changed him.

“Lan,” Max hissed. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Max,” Lando mumbled. “Not now.”

“She deserves to know,” Pietra shook her head. “Y/n, listen to me, I know Lando had probably been a lovely guy but he asked you out because he was dared to-”

“Pietra!” Lando groaned. “What the fuck!”

You turned to Pietra, pushing Lando’s arm off of you. “Are you serious?”

“She’s telling the truth,” Max added. 

“Y/n please, just let me explain-”

“There’s nothing to fucking explain. You’re an asshole, don’t call me again,” you scoffed, getting up and leaving with Pietra following quickly behind. 

Lando was helpless.

-----------------

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[cyanoticfireflies]

Hazbin Group Chat Fic, pt 1

* CharChar added PurpleFemale, SeXXXySpider, SssirP, Husk, NaNaNaNiff, and Alastor to “Hazbin Hotel’s Home for Imaginary Friends” *

CharChar: Hi, friends!

SssirP: But… but we’re not imaginary.

PurpleFemale: I think it’s related to some TV show on earth.

SeXXXySpider: Shh, don’t say the T-dot-V word or flat-face will come spy on us.

SeXXXySpider: Also wow @ Husk & Alastor.  We can totally tell who are the digital grandpas in this friend group.

Alastor: I beg your pardon?

NaNaNaNiff: Ehehe, your usernames.

Alastor: Yes?

NaNaNaNiff: They’re just your names.  Laaaame.

Husk: I’m not calling myself some stupid nickname.

SeXXXySpider: Bwahaha, two seconds, kitty.  I assume you’re down at the bar.

Husk: Oh god.

PurpleFemale: Run, Husk.

* Husk changed his name to KittyKat *

* KittyKat changed his name to Husk *

* Husk changed his name to NiceTryFurball *

* NiceTryFurball changed his name to Husk *

* Husk changed his name to WhiskeyWhiskers *

WhiskeyWhiskers: This… can stay.

SeXXXySpider: I win!

WhiskeyWhiskers: If you touch my phone again, I’ll break your fingers, brat.

SeXXXySpider: Weird kink, but actually not the strangest thing I’ve done so far this week ~ <3 ~

PurpleFemale: That… that’s not okay, Angel.

SeXXXySpider: ¯\_¯\_(ツ)_/¯_/¯

NaNaNaNiff: Awww, you gave him the extra arms!!!

SeXXXySpider: You know it, Niff.

Alastor: I’ve been here approximately three minutes and already feel my brain rotting away.  Charlie, what exactly was the point of this?

CharChar: Okay, so I figured even though we all live together that we still need a way to communicate whenever we’re not actually together.

SssirP: For what, exactly?

CharChar: Anything!  If there’s just something you want to share with the group.  It can be an idea for an exercise for us or a funny joke you thought of or just letting me know that the handle is broken on your bathroom sink!

WhiskeyWhiskers: Don’t all you fucks spend enough time with each other?  And I should know – I keep getting dragged along on your little misadventures.

SeXXXySpider: Bet.

WhiskeyWhiskers: What?

SeXXXySpider: Not the kind of bet you’re used to.

SssirP: “The term bet can be used in a few different ways on social media but generally means agreed or okay.”

SeXXXySpider: Bet.

PurpleFemale: Siiiiigh.  And here we have Angel, the perpetually online e-boy.

SeXXXySpider: Uwu?

PurpleFemale: Kill it with fire.

NaNaNaNiff: Eheheheheh.

PurpleFemale: Don’t actually kill it with fire.

NaNaNaNiff: No fun :-(((

Alastor: I’m still very confused.

SeXXXySpider: Just go with it.  You’ll catch on.

CharChar: Thanks, Angel.  I’m glad someone is immediately on board.

SeXXXySpider: (bb^_^)bb

SssirP: I’m not opposed.  I’ve never been in a group chat before.

PurpleFemale: Really?  You didn’t have one for you and your egg things?

SssirP: Giving the Egg Boiz cellular phones is a very bad idea.  Trust me.  A very bad idea.

SeXXXySpider: I’m so fascinated to get that story out of you someday.

CharChar: Angel, will you help Alastor change his name too?

SeXXXySpider: Iiiii will not.

Alastor: SmArT BoY

SeXXXySpider: Eep

PurpleFemale: Eep

SssirP: Eep

CharChar: Oh, come on, Alastor.  It’s part of the fun!  Here, bring me your phone and I’ll help you!

Alastor: I assure you that I am quite fine, my dear.

WhiskeyWhiskers: She gets a pat on the head and Angel gets a vague death threat?  Checks out.

SeXXXySpider: ^

SssirP: But it is kind of fun, having a different name.

PurpleFemale: What would Alastor’s name even be?

SeXXXySpider: Honestly, he’d probably go with, like “RadioDemon” and think he was being clever.

CharChar: I’ll come up with a list of ideas!

NaNaNaNiff: RadioRudolph

Alastor: No.

Alastor: And, my dear Niffty, why are you engaging in all of this nonsense?

NaNaNaNiff: Ehehehe, because they can text me whenever they find a bug!

WhiskeyWhiskers: There’s one bothering me at the bar.

SeXXXySpider: Hey, she already tried to stab me once.

SeXXXySpider: Also, the clue is in the name, baby.  Spider.  Not bug.

WhiskeyWhiskers: Only once?  Pussy.

SeXXXySpider: (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

SssirP: Actually, that one does look like it has cat whiskers.

SeXXXySpider: (=^ ◡ ^=)

SssirP: Aww.

CharChar: You know, that does raise an important question!  Niffty, do you also go after spiders or only bugs?

NaNaNaNiff: Spiders are our friends!  They eat all of the nasty little buggies.  They tie them up and then suck them dry!

PurpleFemale: Angel, no.

WhiskeyWhiskers: Don’t do it.

CharChar: That’s….

SeXXXySpider: Don’t mind me over here deleting my half-completed text then.

PurpleFemale: Do you have any shame?

SeXXXySpider: ¯\_¯\_(ツ)_/¯_/¯

SeXXXySpider: I mean, they’re usually the ones doing the tying up, sooooooo

SeXXXySpider: Niff can be half-right.

Alastor: Regretting your decisions yet, Charlie?

PurpleFemale: About starting this group text or about life in general?

Alastor: That I shall leave up to her.

CharChar: This. Is. Fine.

CharChar: (Angel, if you need someone to talk to…)

SeXXXySpider: Thanks, doll, but my therapy comes in little plastic baggies.

PurpleFemale: Speaking of, we found the stash taped to the underside of the couch.  I believe that may have been the last one, yes?

SeXXXySpider: …

SeXXXySpider: My therapy is *supposed to* come in little plastic baggies.

CharChar: I’d say sorry, Angel, but I’m honestly not that sorry.

WhiskeyWhiskers: Good job, girls.

SeXXXySpider: Hey, Niffty, did anyone ever tell you that cats are a species of bug?

NaNaNaNiff: Nice try~

SeXXXySpider: You know, I remember someone did once call me “Whore Bug”

PurpleFemale: *Snort* What?

SeXXXySpider: Yup

SssirP: Ah, I did intend to apologize for that

SeXXXySpider: Eh, I punched you in the face. (งง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)งง  We’re even

PurpleFemale: Wait, what happened?

PurpleFemale: Also, Angel, where do you keep getting all of those?

SeXXXySpider: oo(◕␣~)oo

PurpleFemale: No

SssirP: It was when I was still trying to help the Vees.

SssirP: Before I realized that Vox is a jerk.

SeXXXySpider: ^

WhiskeyWhiskers: Not gonna lie, that’s actually kind of funny.

CharChar: Remember what I taught you, Pentious?

SssirP: Ah, yes!

SssirP: Angel, I’m sorry I called you WhoreBug.

SeXXXySpider: Thanks IG but I’m not sorry for punching you.

SeXXXySpider: Also, I’ve been called worse.

PurpleFemale: Once again, Angel.  That’s not okay.

SeXXXySpider: I’m getting tired of typing the shrug

PurpleFemale: Or you could take your own trauma seriously for, like, two seconds.

SeXXXySpider: Or I could bury my trauma in sarcasm and ice cream.

WhiskeyWhiskers: Replace ice cream with bourbon and I’ve been there

CharChar: Note to self, see if Alastor can find a therapist for the hotel

Alastor: I shall keep an eye open, my dear girl

CharChar: Do you think Rosie knows somebody?

PurpleFemale: Do we really want a cannibal living in the hotel?

CharChar: The hotel welcomes ~everybody~

SeXXXySpider: Resisting. Urge. To. Make. Eating. Joke.

CharChar: See?!  That’s growth!

SeXXXySpider: Resisting. Urge. To. Make. Growth. Joke.

NaNaNaNiff: Hehehehehe.

SssirP: I actually don’t know what the jokes would have been???

WhiskeyWhiskers: Keep that innocence, bud

(Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

[darlingmbappe]

The Loneliest [3] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Epilogue]

Summary: While Kylian lets jealousy get the best of him on the pitch, you find that a tequila-filled night might be the answer to healing your broken heart... even if it's just for one night.

Warnings: Still just absolute angst. Missing your ex, Kylian being overprotective and jealous, Erling Haaland being a dick (i'm sorry it's purely for plot purposes), heavy drinking, self destructive behavior, cussing, bad cheese puns, let me know if I missed anything! — English is not my first language —

The breakup was bound to go public sooner or later. It was surprising you made it almost seven weeks before the media got the hold of the story. You both were spotted alone on separate sides of town too many times, you’d missed all of his matches, and E!News got a source that told them you live alone now. You have a strong hunch it’s your next door neighbor that’s always lingering by the stairs. She asks entirely too many questions.

While you were still with Kylian, your relationship was kept mostly private and you rarely found yourself in any headlines. But, lord knows, if there’s anything the press loves more than a celebrity engagement is a celebrity breakup. When you saw a graphic of your face and Kylians face photoshopped onto a broken heart on Snapchat, a clickbait title asking, “did our fav football couple call it quits?”, you knew you’d be getting some unwanted attention. Fuck you, Daily Mail. Mind your business.

You clearly remember agreeing with him to wait for you to text first, but he’s a damn liar. He didn’t let a day go by before sending you a sweet good morning text. For the past three weeks, he’s been sending little messages here and there. Nothing too risqué or anything that made you feel pressure… they were actually nice. You’d been pretty good at not responding, being occupied doing absolutely anything else to stop yourself from thinking about him.

Kylian knew this. Being with you for such a long time, he understood how you got when you didn’t want to think about something. When your family dog passed, you claimed you were fine over and over again, and he just had to let you hyper fixate on new random hobbies until your feelings eventually exploded out. You taught yourself claymation, knitting, refurbishing old creepy dolls… that was definitely his least favorite. He needed to make sure you didn’t force yourself to forget about him, he wanted to be there for you when you were ready. He’s patience is usually very thin, but he’s impressed with himself for staying (mostly) zen about you not responding. He had to. He couldn’t fuck this up again and come swinging with the ‘I love you’s that he types out and erases promptly.

It’s finally Friday and you just finished a late lunch at your favorite café near your office, just listening to music on your headphones and reading through a document you were about to send to your colleagues. Your phone buzzed with a message from Kylian and, of course, you clicked the notification. You always did.

He’d sent you a picture of a decorative board at some market with a cheese-remix of the song Sweet Dreams by the Eurythmics. You immediately laughed out loud, having seen this exact sign before with Kylian years ago. For weeks after, you two sang the lyrics randomly around the house, in the car, pretty much anywhere until all of your friends were begging for you two to just shut the fuck up.

Sweet dreams are made of cheese, who am I to dissa-brie, I’ve travelled the world and the feta cheese, everybody’s lookin’ for stilton.

Your fingers began to respond before you even had a chance to really think about it.

(Y/N): Not this shit again

Kylian smiled widely upon seeing that you sent something back, typing back in record speeds.

Kylian: I think it’s…….. grate

You actually smiled at his horrible pun, twirling your hair against your own will.

(Y/N): very cheesy

Kylian was so quick to look up more cheese puns, not wanting to let his roll come to an end. Any communication, even about cheese, worked for him.

Kylian: it’s very gouda to hear from you again :)

“Oh, man.” You mumbled to yourself, noticing how your heart rate increased with just a couple of his really really bad jokes.

God, you missed him so much.

You stood up, leaving the conversation there, gathering your things and turning up the music. Yet, the whole walk back it was impossible to focus on whatever was playing in your ears because of the louder song playing inside your head. Sweet dreams are made of cheese…

Kylians thumb was lodged between his teeth in anticipation, but soon realized you weren’t going to respond again. Lowly cursing to himself, he threw his phone back in his locker. Everyone was prepared for todays game against Manchester City, especially Kylian. He wanted to win so bad, it almost felt like the World Cup.

He knew who he was going to play against — Erling Haaland. If he wasn’t too fond of him before, finding out he hit on you on you brewed a different kind of determination to win inside of him. You said nothing happened that night and he believed you — but he knew that Haaland had more in mind than just a nice conversation. He noticed last week that he followed you on instagram and liked all of your recent pictures, not including the ones with him. As of last night, you still didn't follow him back. Those late night stalking sessions have to stop soon. His nutritionists is really getting on his ass for finishing entire jars of peanut butter every other day.

He wondered if you were going to watch the game or if you had been since you left. He really hoped you hadn’t been. He’s been playing horribly these past weeks. Once the news of your breakup went public, every commentator made a point of mentioning it and saying stupid shit like, “life goes on, and that’s something Kylian Mbappé is going to have to figure out sooner or later.”

He let his angry thoughts fuel him as he walked into the tunnel. He tried to get his head in the game, but couldn’t help looking back every so often to the opposing team next to them, eyes always landing on the tall blonde man.

He stood in his place, but his neck twisted back against his will, not really caring if he was being too obvious. Right before the teams were meant to walk out together, Haaland caught his death glares. Kylian doubled down, making sure he wouldn’t be the one to lose this immature staring contest. Holland cracked a shit-eating grin and winked at Mbappé.

Oh, the rage… keep it in, Kylian.

He looked away with an unbothered “pft.” It wasn’t very convincing, not even to himself.

After the usual opening ceremony, the whistle blew indicating that the match had begun, sending Kylian sprinting in every direction as the game progressed. ManCity was good, but he knew PSG was better. He kept telling himself this, but his teammates continued to mess up, even allowing the light-blue motherfuckers to score the opening goal not even twenty minutes into the first half. And, of course, it was Haaland that buried the ball deep in the back of the net. He watched him celebrate on his pitch, listening to the crowd cheer their chant, feeling tortured and helpless.

His eye was fixed on the Norwegian as he moved back into the starting position, hating that he was laughing, still on a high from scoring. Hakimi walked next to Kylian, feeling that his friend is on the brink of doing something very dumb. His hand patted his shoulder, but Kylian didn’t even notice it, his entire body twitching with jealously.

When Kylian was in earshot, Haaland nodded up at him. “Kylian.” The young player called, but Kylian just side eyed him. Hakimi grabbed his shoulders tighter just in case he tried anything. “(Y/N) is up for grabs now, no?”

Kylians ears rung as he felt himself launch at Erling who just laughed. Hakimi had gotten in front of him without missing a beat, roughly shoving him in the opposite direction to keep him from beating up the 22 year old. Other PSG players joined, guiding Kylian to his position.

He didn’t even know words were coming out of his mouth at this point, pointing his finger threateningly at Erling. “Don’t fucking talk about her. I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me?” He was well aware that this was all to get in his head but, shit. It’s working. Kylian didn’t even notice that the referee was being talked down by Neymar and Messi, eventually the confrontation getting waved off with a warning at the start of a new play.

Halftime rolled around and no one scored again. In the locker room, Glatier yelled and waved his arms, demanding that the defense get their shit together. He zoned out, too deep in thought about what an asshole that guy is and how he wants to score and rub it in his face. He was brought back when he heard his name grumbling out of his coaches mouth, having no idea what the topic even was.

“Sorry?” He embarrassingly piped up, seeing all of his teammates had their eyes on him.

Glatier grunted, stomping closer to him. “I said, get your shit together!”

“Yes, coach.”

“Don’t worry about what they say. Just go out there and play like I know you can. You want to win, don’t you?”

“I do, coach.”

“Then let’s fucking win.”

Glatier was right and he knew it. Whatever that stupid hulk-boy had to say about you was only getting under his skin. He couldn’t play at his best like that.

So, when the second half started and he heard him say some bullshit again, he did his best to let it roll off his back. “You think she’ll respond if I DM her?” Erling asked nonchalantly to Álvarez, but Kylian was determined to let it slide. Let it fucking slide.

But, he didn’t stop there. When walking by him, Haaland asked him, “What’s a good spot to take her? Nothing too far, my hotel room is around here.” Kylians fists were balled in rage, biting his cheek and blowing air out of his flared nostrils.

“You better shut your goddamn mouth.” He snapped back, but continued walking away, knowing he can’t let him win. Hearing Haalands taunting chuckles behind him almost made him whip back around, but Neymar wrapped his arm securely around his shoulder, forcing him to look forward.

“It’s just talk, Kylian. Come on.” He rubbed his head roughly as if to beg him to not let it get to him before running back into position.

The game progressed, only ten minutes left of the second half before overtime. Neymar was at the left side of the field, preparing himself for a corner kick. Kylian searched for an opening that could potentially bring a scoring opportunity, but a brooding shadow seemed to follow him everywhere. Haaland was aggressively playing defense against him, his height advantage making it impossible for Kylian to move somewhere better.

“I hope she wears something nice and tight.” Erling chortled through his tired breathing. “I’ve been waiting for you to mess things up with her. I’ve had my eye on her for months… She’s so hot.”

His mind went blank, completely blank. It must have, because he didn’t remember shoving Haaland down onto the pitch, fists pulling back. He was seeing red, but his teammates dragged him off before his punch could land right on his cheek. Before he knew it, the ManCity players were charging at PSG. The whistle blew about a dozen times as the crowd got louder.

Kylian couldn’t stop trying to shake off his friends, screaming past the wall of light blue toward the blonde man on the ground pretending to be seriously injured, clutching his arm.

“Say that again! I fucking dare you!” Kylian threatened, Ramos clinging onto his shoulders, walking backwards.

He was pushed away far from the scene as his whole team began to fight with the other players in solidarity, the referee preoccupied with calming down the situation.

He was for sure already getting a red card, so his mindset was fuck it. He sprinted around the fighting crowd who immediately recognized his intentions, getting back in front of him before he could reach Haaland to really do some damage.

“Stay the hell away from her. I’ll end you, you son of a bitch. Off this pitch, I swear to god you’re dead.” Kylian talked out of his ass, already walking himself off the pitch when the referee held up a red card. He waved him off, spiting on the grass as he made his way back through the tunnel, ignoring the coaching team screaming at him altogether.

ManCity ended up winning 2-0 and Kylians suspension was decided to extend for two matches. He didn’t watch the remainder of it, but when he found out Erling Fucking Haaland scored the other goal, it felt like the knife was twisted. Fuck that guy. The press conference after was hell, having to claim that he deeply regretted his actions and that this doesn’t reflect his character or whatever his PR team wrote up for him.

He truly did feel like a dumbass. He absolutely hated how much he let those comments affect him. He knew he should’ve just blocked it out but how was he going to let him say that stuff about you? The way he talked about you like you weren’t even a person, like you weren’t the love of his life. Sure, he felt like a dumbass, but he would defend you to the ends of the earth.

He got home to his empty house, throwing himself on his sofa, flipping on ESPN to watch basketball highlights. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep. Usually, he’s opposed to naps as they throw off his sleeping schedule, but recently he’d found them comforting; an easy escape from everything going on. Besides, his sleep schedule was already bonkers from the breakup.

He swears his eyes were only shut for five minutes, but he woke up to complete darkness. His TV even timed out, neck sore from the stiff throw pillows supporting his head, groaning so loudly that it echoed inside the vacant home. It was only when he picked up his phone to check the time that he realized you were even calling. The faint buzzing was probably what woke him up.

“Shit.” He shot up, wiping the sleep from his face as he answered quickly.

He cleared his groggy throat. “Hello?”

He faintly heard you saying his name, but the music in the back was pounding. “Kyyyyks!”

He laughed to himself, loving the sound of his nickname for the first time since your breakup. “Hello? (Y/N)? Are you drunk?”

“Hold on.” He heard you yell from the other line as the music got softer in the background. “Hellooo.” You giggled.

“Hi.” He giggled back.

“I woke you up.” He could hear the pout in your voice, having to bite his lip to keep his smile from getting ridiculous.

“No, no I don’t mind. Call me anytime.” Kylian began twirling his hoodie string on his forefinger. “Are you okay?”

You nod, but he can’t hear you. Your drunk brain didn’t catch up. “I think so.”

“You think so? Where are you?” Concerned, he looked at the time. A little past 3:30 am. Damn, long ass nap.

“Umm…” You paused to look around you, seeing no signs anywhere and finding it kind of funny. “I dunno. I lost them ages ago.”

“Them?”

“Yeah, my friends.”

He stood up. “Wait, wait. Are you by yourself?”

“Mhm!” You chirped, now walking away from the club, alone. Your skin-tight tights gave you no warmth at all, but the tequila that flushed your system had you covered. “Kyks…”

“Yeah?” He waited for you to say something, his concern for you growing, wishing he still had your location so he could go look for you.

You paused, looking around the dark streets. “I mi…” your sentence drifted off and you laughed off what you were about to say. “… I’m so drunk.” You stumbled further down the street, a loud club with red lights oozing from the entrance peaking your interest.

He knew what you were about to say, but wasn’t going to push it. “I can hear that. Do you need a ride? I can come get you right now, just send me your current location.”

“No, I’m fine! Look, I found somewhere safe!” You point, even though he couldn’t see. “Oh, my god. You’ll never believe who’s here. Oh, shit.”

“Who?” Kylian asked over the phone.

You giggled. “I don’t wanna tell you, Kyks. You’ll be mad. I saw what happened today during the match.”

He was tempted to quirk a smile hearing that you have been watching, but then it dawned on him. It couldn’t be… “Haaland?”

What are the odds? Erling Haaland stood outside the packed nightclub with a few of his teammates, surrounded by women and men, all trying to get his attention. He hadn’t seen you yet.

“Oh my god, you’re such a good guesser.” You clapped. “God, I forgot how tall he was.”

He grabbed his keys, putting his shoes on, holding the phone up to his ear by his shoulder as he rushed around his home. “Please just let me come pick you up. I’m worried about you, where are you? I’ll take you home.”

You got closer to the LED sign. “It’s called… uh… la petite robe noire… oh my god! That’s what I’m wearing!” You cheered.

He put you on speaker and looked it up. Jesus, you were so far, he wondered if you’d started out around there or if you’d ventured out alone. He revved up his engine, backing out of his driveway. “Stay there, I’m coming. Okay?”

You didn’t respond, your phone now by your side as Erling spotted you, jogging over to where you were standing.

“Hey!” You waved, letting him come to you because your heels hurt too badly. You couldn’t hear Kylian on the other line trying to get your attention.

“Hello, beautiful.” He leaned in and hugged you. You kind of hugged back, too drunk to balance yourself upwards that way without falling into him.

As soon as he heard that fucking accent over the phone, he pressed his foot down on the pedal, hoping he hits every green light in Paris. You, on the other hand, forgot you were still on the line with your ex fiancé, but hung up when you realized it with a giggly “oops!”.

“Didn’t think I’d run into you, how are you, (Y/N)?” Haaland asks, placing a steady hand on your waist to keep your wobbling frame from tipping over.

“So good!” That was a lie. You were out tonight drinking away the pit in your stomach since the match. You’d watched sneakily from your desk, fingers tugging at your roots when you saw the little incident during the first half. During those last ten minutes, you felt like you were going to throw up.

Why did you have to tell Kylian about Erling? What happened today definitely opened him up to a lot of criticism from his coaches, the team, the media… You couldn’t help but feel a little responsible because you knew he could behave himself if he never knew about that night on the balcony. On the other hand, it was kind of… very hot. Jealous Kylian was never your favorite, but you can’t stop yourself from feeling something spark in you. Or maybe you were just horny. Who’s to say? It's been so long...

“You’re good?” Erling accent repeats, grinning down at you. “Sorry to hear about your breakup."

"Pffft." You laugh. "Yeah right, you two were never exactly friends."

He shrugs, sticking his hands in his pockets. "You're right. I'm not sorry." He smirks, looking you up and down. If your head wasn’t filled with liquor you’d feel kind of gross, but his flirty stares didn’t mean anything to the drunken body you found yourself in tonight. It all went right over your head. He nods his head toward the club. "Come on, let's get you a drink, yeah?"

You followed him in, the lights were blurry and the ground wasn't very stable. The vibrations came up from the ground, making you feel like someone was shaking your brain around. You were absolutely not thinking straight, and it only got worse when a bottle girl came over to the section with Don Julio. It was all so fast, like the lights flashed and you were suddenly with someone else, or in a different part of the club, or dancing, drinking, stumbling.

Fuck, you had to get out of there.

Kylian arrived at the club and he definitely did not fit the dress code. But, despite his grey joggers and Nike hoodie, he was still Kylian Mbappé, so he got in without any issue. Ideally, he wouldn’t have to risk being spotted at a nightclub that Erling Haaland was at, but he did it for you. He politely smiled at his fans but weaved past people begging for a selfie. He called you plenty of times from the car, but you never picked up.

Once inside the club, he lifted his hood and put on some sunglasses, hoping this wouldn't cause a riot without his security to lead him through the crowds. People were too focused on grinding and not spilling their drinks to notice the international superstar frantically searching for one single woman in a sea of them.

He looked up at the sections on the second floor, finally spotting that tall blonde bastard, wasting not a single second before making his way up, security letting him through once he flashed them his famous smile.

"Haaland!" He cups his hands around his mouth, hoping that he knows where you are. "Haaland!"

He finally turns around, knitting his eyebrows at the sight. "Kylian." He steps around the models to stand close to him, the loud music making it impossible to communicate from even a few feet away. "What? You didn't get enough of me on the pitch today?"

Kylian rolls his eyes. "No, man. I'm just looking for (Y/N). I know she was here."

"Yeah, she was." Erling laughed. "She's wild, for sure. Don't know where she went, though."

"What? She's not here?"

Haaland shrugged. "She went to the bathroom and never came back. Why do you even care? Like I said, she's up for grabs. She's not yours anymore."

If he wasn't so worried about your current wellbeing, he would have grabbed his stupid little ponytail and gone full Fight Club on him. But he didn't, instead he shook his head at him and made his way down from the section before he regretted not throwing a punch or two.

His concern grew. He never thought he would wish you were with Erling Haaland at a nightclub, but at least he could find you then.

Kylian stood on a ledge hoping to see your hair or face anywhere from a birds-eye view, but had to leave promptly when the partygoers caught onto his less than great disguise. A security guard from the club lead him to the back exit, warding off flashing cameras in every direction.

Thanking the man when he was safely outside with a fist bump, he walked himself down the dirty metal steps, sighing. "Putain." He walked to is parked car, leaning on it to try and think a little, wondering how he’s going to find you. He really isn’t familiar with this part of town, but he'll stay out all night if he has to.

He wished you’d just pick up the phone, ease his jittery nerves. Just as he was about to click on your contact, he heard some slurred singing further down the alleyway he was in. The faint tune sounded familiar, but the voice definitely was. It was you.

He followed like a siren sound, turning the corner to see you sitting on a small cement step, head resting on your curled up knees, giggling to yourself as you continued the song.

"Sweet cheese are made of cheese, who am I to *hiccup* disa-cheese..."

"I think you've messed up the lyrics there, love." He smiled, letting out a breath he’d been holding now knowing you're okay.

You gaze up, smiling widely, gasping and jolting up, wrapping your loose arms around his neck and letting your legs go limp.

"Woah, hey..." He exclaimed with a laugh, grabbing your torso tightly to keep you upright.

"You're here!" You gaze up, grin wide as he peered down at you, smiling as well. "Whadda coincidence!"

It was like he didn't just spend hours worried sick, now feeling somewhat at ease. Your presence is all he needed for every weight to be lifted off his shoulders. He only cares about making sure you get back home with a glass of water on your nightstand and a trashcan at your side.

"You okay? Why are you out here by yourself?" He guides you to stand properly on your own, but you didn't let your grip go, so he didn't either. He let his hand stay on the small of your back, his other gripping your hip.

You shrug, scratching your fingernails against the nape of his neck. He shivered, goosebumps running down his body, letting a flustered giggle escape his lips. You stared deep into his eyes. Your funny demeanor simmered down, finding the familiar warmth of the man in front of you to be more intoxicating than anything you've drank tonight. "You always loved when I did that..."

Kylian's heart got caught in his throat, gulping it down along with the urge to hold you so tightly. He'd been craving your touch, spending many sleepless nights wondering if he'd ever get to feel you again.

"Let's get you home, okay?" He mumbled, running his hands down your arms to unwrap them from his neck. He held one of your arms as he bent down to grab your phone and purse from the dirty floor.

He started guiding you to his passengers seat, but getting you there wasn’t an easy task. Your heels kept getting caught in the cobblestones so he had to keep a steady hand around you in case you fell. He buckled you up like a toddler, doing his best to ignore the googly eyes that you made at him.

When he got in drivers seat, he looked over at you, a rush of memories making his heart flutter.

All of the times he would turn his gaze away from the road for just a second to see you. The way you smiled when you rode with the windows down, sticking your arm out to feel the rushing wind outside the car. The way he used to be able to put a comforting hand on your thigh while he drove and you'd draw circles on his knuckles mindlessly, rambling about anything that came to your mind. The way you would always unwrap a piece of gum for him because you didn't want him distracted, even though he would never not get distracted by you.

He shook the thoughts out of his head, clearing his throat. "So, what's your address?"

You laughed, taking your heels off. "I dunno."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"Geez, Ky. I've only lived there for like..." you counted in your head, but numbers barely made sense sober, "...not that long."

"Do you have it on your phone?" He pried, handing you your cell.

"Yes!" You cheered, snatching it only to see that it was out of battery when the screen reflected back at you. "Ah, man. It's dead!" You pouted, throwing it in the backseat, crossing your arms.

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, turning on the heat higher when he noticed the chills running down your arms. "I can take you back to... uh..." he stuttered, having to stop himself from saying our place, still getting used to living there alone, "—back to my place."

You gave him a look, raising your eyebrow dramatically. "Nice try, Casanova." You chuckled.

He laughed too, rubbing his eyes. "No, come on, (Y/N). There's like five beds. I wouldn't take advantage of you like that."

You bite your lip and stare at him through your lashes. "I'd let you."

God, that stare. That tone. He's internally cussing himself out for all those times he told you he wasn't in the mood or too tired. He wished he could go back in time and slap himself.

He quickly shook it off, laughing dryly and having to look away from you. “You are so drunk.”

With that, he put the car in reverse, beginning the half hour journey back to the home that still has pictures of you on the walls. The home that still feels like it’s yours, the one that Kylian prays he’ll see you wake up in again… at a time when you’re not absolutely plastered, of course. For now, he’s content looking over to your sleeping figure in his car, slowly breathing and shifting every so often.

Once he pulled into the garage, he got out and made his way to open the passenger door. “Hey,” he gently put a hand on your cold shoulder, “we’re here, bébé.”

He didn’t mean for the nickname to slip out of his mouth, but it did. It actually woke you up, your heart thumping at the four letters that used to be so familiar to you, so intimate.

“I’m tired.” You grumble, putting your hands out toward him, slightly less drunk, yet nowhere near sober. “I forgot how comfy your car is.”

“Wait ‘till we get you into a real bed. You’re gonna sleep like a rock.” You grabbed his forearms and stumbled out of the car, Kylian quickly grabbing your heels, phone, and purse.

For a drunk, you moved surprisingly fast, beelining to the kitchen. He followed you in, attentive to your wonky steps. He set your belongings down on one of the barstools, turning to see you leaned inside of his fridge, grasping the handles for balance.

“You hungry?” He grins, walking around the kitchen island and leans against it.

“Mm… you got rid of all my snacks…”

“Uh, not true.” He quipped, opening the cupboard and pulling back a red box, the sight bringing a big smile to your face.

“Pancakes?!”

He opens the cabinet bellow him and pulls out a sleek black press, confident smirk spreading to his cheeks. “Waffles.”

You cover your mouth in excitement, stumbling backward a bit but catch yourself on the island. “No way.”

He nods, eyes twinkling at your enthusiasm. You look so pretty in this kitchen. It’s nostalgic. It feels warmer now that you’re back here, even if he’s just pretending to forget that you’ll have to leave in the morning.

“Go sit. They won’t take long.” You do as he says, hopping into a stool as you watch him begin to mix the ingredients in a bowl.

Your mind drifted to the last time you saw him. The way his chin quivered when he cried over you, how much it hurt to tell him you weren't ready and that you may never be. It was still true. In a more clearheaded scenario, you probably wouldn't be here with him right now. If alcohol didn't seem like such an inviting bandaid to your aching mind and heart, the feelings you'd been suppressing would likely have stayed suppressed... where you honestly wanted them to stay. Opening yourself back up to be loved by the same man that made you question yourself was still incredibly scary.

"Bon appétit." He placed the plate in front of you.

The waffle was dusted in powdered sugar, a small butter square in the middle was surrounded by sliced strawberries. "Oh... my... god..." You salivated, picking up the fork and knife he handed you and devoured the first bite, moaning in gratitude. "Oh my god." You had no other words.

Kylian laughed, picking up his own fork to dig into his less pretty waffle, standing across from you. "Yeah?"

He didn't get a verbal response back, but knew you meant it upon seeing the manner in which you inhaled every crumb on your plate. Your late night snack was gone too soon and you wanted more, but your drooping eyes and full bladder convinced you that sleep was better.

Kylian took his last bite, grabbing your plates and setting them in the sink. "I think it's bedtime."

You agreed without saying so, hopping off the stool and took the route to the master bedroom. You could walk there with your eyes closed and you might as well have. The sleep deprivation mixed with your drunkenness lead you straight to the dresser, opening up the top chest on your side to grab a t-shirt.

When your crossed eyes looked down at the empty drawer, it was sobering. You let out a shakey breath, clasping your hands in front of you. "Right..."

Kylain stood by the door, frowning at your stillness. The small window of bliss he had with you just seconds earlier shattered upon seeing your sorrowful face looking down at the drawer that used to contain your things, now containing nothing but memories of what used to be.

Silently, he walked over to you, gently shutting it for you. He opened up his side, handing you one of the shirts you left folded for him. One of your favorites. "Here."

You give him an attempt of a smile but don't actually look at him. "Thanks."

He goes to leave the room but you stop him. "Wait. Where are you going? I'll sleep in one of the guest rooms. I'm not taking your bed."

"No, please. You just get some rest, okay?" He almost whispers, taking in the sight of you standing in this room again before he went to close the door.

"Ky?" You breathe, locking your eyes on his. There was something you wanted to say, some words your throat closed up on, leaving you with nothing else but silence. He stayed still, his adoration for you threatening to spill out of him the longer he stared at you. You draw a subtle breath upon feeling your emotions pooling in your eyes. "Thank you."

Kylian felt the weight of your otherwise simple words, taking context from the way you were looking at him. "I'll always be here for you."

With that, he reluctantly closed the door behind him, trudging to the bedroom closest to you.

The room spun as you laid down on your favorite pillow, beyond comfortable under the duvet you picked out yourself. You wished you never went drinking tonight. If you'd just stayed home and pigged out on ice cream you wouldn't have to face the truth that's been slowly crawling to the surface.

Your eyes shut much too quickly to really explore the sentiments you've uncovered tonight, but that's probably for the best.

Kylian's mind was racing and he only hoped you couldn't hear how loud his brain was from the next room. Under the guilt and self-pity he's been swimming in for weeks, he finally felt a sliver of optimism beginning to grow inside of him. It was such a tender feeling, a feeling he let lull him to sleep, content knowing you were just on the other side of that wall.

A/N: The amount of times this deleted..... I was going crazy. Thank god that I started saving every draft on Google Drive or else I probably would have stopped writing out of frustration. Big things coming for (Y/N) and Kylain! Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I'm sorry about having to make Haaland an asshole bc I really do love him. It was just to move the plot along <3. Also I didn't know all of the soccer terms in english so forgive me if I messed any of that up. Love all of you and thanks for reading!

[fabledresources]

random twitter prompts !

i am far too mentally ill to be this unpopular on social media.

i’m just a dust particle, i’m not supposed to pay bills.

i woke up again still not a retired millionaire. this is bullshit.

girls aren’t that complicated, just hold our hands, make us laugh, bring us iced coffee and the beating hearts of all those who have wronged us.

my weighted blanket won't let me join your morning hike.

it’s not a situationship, i’m doing an unpaid internship in his heart.

healing isn’t enough. i need my memory erased.

not to be a pathetic loser but i'd spend the rest of my life with you.

wanna spice up date night? harvest his organs!

i don't want to fuck him, i just think "he looks cool" has less impact.

men are so cute when they are openly down bad for their girlfriends.

that's a grown man with dick and balls.

hate remembering that, to my coworkers, I’M the coworker… don’t they know i'm different.

babe are you okay? you haven't said "that's that me espresso" once today..

it hurt me so bad i started studying.

this was $30. should i kill myself?

no soda this summer! i'm only drinking water and pussy juice!!

i love you [name]. i'm going to fucking blow up the whole world for you.

my body is a machine that turns reassurance into more reasons to be concerned.

you gotta eat the dirt for your immune system. your body craves the dirt. stop denying yourself the dirt.

no worries. just gonna bang my head against the wall about it.

imagine dating me because you think i'm pretty, then boom. 83 texts in a row of me begging for attention.

i don’t watch porn. i prefer to fantasize about abstract things like having a brain that lets me enjoy being alive.

women do not want engagement rings. they want engagement heavy plate armor.

you could cry a river and i would build us a raft to float on.

debating if i should continue my healing journey, or go insane.

i was fine, then i started thinking.

some guy commented ‘beautiful’ on your tiktok, so i found out where he lives. do you want food?

very fucked up how eating well and working out regularly actually makes you feel better.

[astayinwonderland]

Silk and Fire - Chapter 1

Read more about the series and find updates here (;

pairing: namjoon x f.reader x jungkook

guest starring: jin, yoongi, hoseok

genre: romance | drama | smut +18 MDNI

summary: it's your best friend's engagement party and you agree to meet everyone at the venue. however, you end up running late and in danger. fortunately, someone's there to offer a helping hand... or hands.

status: ongoing

warnings: mentions of anxiety

wc: 1.7k words

a/n: this is pure ✨fiction✨

do not copy or translate

“Babe, you’ll look amazing no matter what you wear,” Namjoon puts his book down to look at you. “I love that dress on you,” he smiles, dimples showing. 

“You’ve said the same thing about the last six outfits I’ve tried on,” you laugh. 

“I am just being honest”. 

Namjoon leaves his comfy reading chair and walks over to your figure. You stand in front of the mirror and stand on your tippy toes mimicking how you would look in heels. Strong arms hug you from behind, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. Namjoon has been quite busy with work lately and in moments like this he wishes he could whisk you away and take you somewhere secluded, nice, romantic, where only the two of you existed. But alas, this wasn’t that day. 

In a couple of hours, you two would be at your best friend’s engagement party, who would have thought she would be the marrying kind after all? Everyone would be there, including the one friend you have never met in person. You are quite excited to meet him finally, he has been travelling around the world for the past year, and in your eight months of dating Namjoon, all the group of friends can talk about is how much they miss their group of 7. 

“You smell so good, you always do,” Namjoon whispers and plants a kiss on your soft skin. 

You run your fingers through his hair in an attempt to make time go still, but your eyes catch the clock by your nightstand and you jump. 

“Fuck, Joon! Look at the time. I have to go to the salon, the dry cleaners, go get my shoes…” 

Namjoon laughs at the way you rush around your shared house, he asked you to move in while you celebrated your 7th month together. The question came abruptly out of his mouth, but it felt right. He knew you were very special from the moment he laid eyes on you. Your looks are breathtaking for sure, but Namjoon felt an intense attraction to you because of your energy and intellect. You are sharp and smart, in a very different way than he is, and that makes him head over heels for you. 

“Alright, alright… Sure you don’t want me to pick you up and get there together?” 

“The salon is right across the venue, I’ll walk there once I’m done. Don’t worry, love,” you smile at him. 

You should have listened to your boyfriend. You should have. Honestly, at least if he were here, you would not feel this stress. It is 7:30 p.m., and you should already be at the venue calming your best friend’s nerves. You are the maid of honour after all. But things went south from the moment the dry cleaners didn’t have your dress ready and you were far behind with your hair. 

“Please just do whatever… the easiest thing. Anything! I really need to go,” you beg at the stylist, and even though she does try, your anxiety isn’t going anywhere. 

By the time you finish, it’s 8:02 p.m. Your bestie sends you text after text. 

Where the fuck are you? 

Are you close? 

Hello!???? 

I’m freaking out please, are you ok? 

You feel too guilty and anxious to give a full explanation so you just text her one sentence. 

I’ll be there in 5. 

You quickly make your way out of the salon and cross the street. The night is a bit cold and windy, your cheeks hurt a little from the cool air brushing against your face. You run in your heels praying you don’t twist your ankle. As you try to look for your lipstick in your clutch, you find yourself already a few steps away from the hotel door. The revolving door activates as you step in but it stops, leaving a small space open between the glass and the entrance. 

“Fuck!” you bang on the door to try and move it, but nothing happens. 

A muffled voice comes from the outside. You turn around to find a cheeky smile, lip piercing, and big doe eyes looking right into yours. 

“What?” your voice is louder than usual since you can’t hear him properly. 

His face now comes closer to the reduced space between the glass and the entrance. 

“You need to step back.” 

You try to move but it seems pointless and your anxiety peaks when it dawns on you that you may be trapped here for a long time. Your breath is heavy and your palms start to sweat. Hell, your vision is blurry. The man watches you lose it in a matter of seconds, and he would be damned if he didn’t do something about it. Somehow, his large frame squeezed through the little space left, catching you before you fell to your knees. 

“Darling, if you are going to get on your knees for me it better not be like this.” 

You try to focus your eyes on the man that helps you stand. Your face leaning against his crisp white shirt, makeup transferring a little bit onto it. 

“Are you okay?” 

And now you get a closer look. His long dark hair falls graciously on his forehead and temples, the rest of it framing his beautiful face. It is a mystery how he squeezed in with those broad shoulders and big arms. Those same arms holding you in place. 

“Breathe,” he gives you a warm smile.

So you breathe and try to pull yourself together, but his hands reach your waist and pull you against him. A gasp leaves your lips. 

“See?” he points at a tiny red dot near the door. “That’s a sensor, if you stand up too close you might get stuck. You just need to move a little bit–” and he pulls you even closer to him, his hips slightly gracing your body. “--back,” and that does the trick. 

Finally the door moves. Just as hotel employees are coming to your rescue. 

“It’s okay, I'm fine!” you yell running to the elevator. 

The man calmly walks after you and watches you desperately run. 

“Thank you!” you yell. 

Elegance. Poise. Charm. Love. 

You find yourself in a small but beautiful space where ivory and gold decorate the room and the chandeliers shimmered light delicately down to the guests. You spot your best friend and her fiancé across the room. Luckily your little meltdown didn’t completely ruin your hair, so you make your way in saying your polite ‘hellos’ and hoping she doesn’t kill you for being this late. 

“You look beautiful,” you hug her. 

“What the fuck happened?” you can see worry in her eyes. 

“The question is, what didn’t happen? Everything went wrong today, I’ll tell you later.” 

“She was about to call the police and put together a search party in order to find you.” 

You look at the man who your best friend decided to marry. Min Yoongi is no ordinary man. He is respectable, admirable, handsome, and the most important thing, he is husband material and perfect for Camille. He loves her dearly, erasing past traumas and filling her with acceptance and reassurance. You couldn’t be happier for them. 

“I was not going to call the police, Yoongi,” she rolls her eyes. 

“Yes she was,” he gives her the fondest of smiles and kisses her temple. His PDA is rare, but when it happens it is from the heart and that makes you long for the perfect man for you. 

“Where is he?” you say scanning the room, and then your eyes meet his. “Please excuse me for a minute…” 

Namjoon smiles as he sees you. Black shirt neatly tucked into his gray pants. His black hair parted to the side. He makes his way to you and you to him, meeting him in a tight embrace that seems to cure all your anxiety. 

“I’m glad you’re finally here,” he gives you a peck on the lips. “Missed you,” 

“And I missed you too!” even though you don’t see him you know it’s Hoseok behind you. You give him a tight hug. To be honest you missed hanging with Namjoon’s friends as well. They bring a certain spark to all gatherings that is hard to match. 

Namjoon gives you a quizzical look. 

“The dry cleaners didn’t have the dress ready on time, then my hair appointment was delayed an hour and a half, and on top of everything I got stuck in the stupid revolving doors,” 

“No way…” and the most boisterous laugh you’ve ever heard in your life comes from one of the most handsome faces you’ve seen in your life. 

“It did happen, Jin,” 

“If it was going to happen to someone it had to happen to you,” he sweetly kissed both of your cheeks. 

“Have you seen Jungkook yet?” Hoseok asks, elegantly holding a champagne flute. 

“Oh is he here yet?” you ask intrigued, excited even. 

“You know he likes a big entrance,” Jin adds. 

Namjoon then offers to get you a drink which you accept. You stay with Jin and Hoseok making casual conversation, but you spot your saviour in the small crowd. What is ‘revolving door guy’ doing here? You excuse yourself and make your way to him, saying hello to Camille’s family as you cross the room. His doe eyes open wide and his lips curve in a smile. 

“You are here,” he says. 

“Yes. Why are you here? Are you following me or something?” you whisper, confused. 

“Maybe I am,” he smirks and takes a sip of his neat whiskey. 

“I’m okay, no need to check on me,” you do your best to smile and reassure him you are doing just fine.  “Thank you, again.” 

“Okay… I won’t check on you, but I will check you out,” and there’s that cheeky smile again.

Shock. 

“Excuse me?” 

“There you are!” Namjoon hands you a glass of white wine and puts his hand around your waist. “Ah! I see you finally met each other.” 

Your eyes go from your man to ‘revolving door guy’ and back to your man. 

“Babe, this is Jeon Jungkook.”

[mxqdii]

cardigan - m.s

pairings: matt sturniolo x reader

summary: cardigan by taylor swift lyrics as matt and readers relationship (idk how to explain just read it)

warning(s): angst, fluff, some sad stuff.

not proofread

and when i felt like i was an old cardigan, under someones bed. you put me on and said i was your favorite.

i sit in my room muffling my sobs as i hear footsteps coming towards the door.

i hear three light knocks along with matts soft voice

"y/n? are you okay?" he asks and i quickly wipe my tears and clear my throat.

"yeah, yeah i'm fine." i croak out and the door slightly opens, the sight of matt filling my eyes with more tears

he sits down on the bed next to me wiping my tears as they fall

"what happened? talk to me." he says tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"i'm no ones favorite person, i know that sounds stupid i just-" you ramble on before getting interrupted.

"you're my favorite person"

a friend to all, is a friend to none, chase two girls, loose the one.

im sitting at home when i get a text from nick saying to come to a movie with him.

i groan, feeling all comfortable in my spot on the couch when i feel my phone vibrate again.

"come on, ill pay if you drive" the text says.

i agree and get ready, pulling up to the triplets house and opening the unlocked door.

nick comes downstairs and i pause

"oh! i almost forgot, i have to get my sweater back from matt, i left it here last time" i say, walking upstairs to matts room.

i forget to knock and just open the door, seeing what was about to be a kiss between matt and some other girl.

matt jumps at the sight of me and tears fill my eyes

"what the fuck matt??" i yell

"its not what it looks like!" he says and i laugh as the tears roll down my cheek

"ohh okay, enlighten me then." i snap back and he looks down to the floor

"i just- i wanted to be sure.." he mumbles

"what?" i say, fidgeting with my rings.

"i'm just- i'm being a friend okay y/n!? i comfort you when you're upset don't i?" he explains

"okay then, tell me you feel absolutely nothing for her then, tell me i'm the only girl you like" i protest, waiting for his response

he stays silent, looking down, which is all of an answer that i need from him.

"you've just lost me matt, goodbye."

but i knew you, playing hide and seek and giving me your weekends.

i sit at the table amongst my friends, them all engaging in the conversation.

meanwhile, i'm looking at old pictures and videos of me and matt, remembering what we had.

the adrenaline, the laughter, the love.

tears brim my eyes but i push them back, not wanting to burst out crying in the middle of lunch.

i come across a video of me and matt trying not to laugh while hiding from chris and nick.

i smile as a tear falls, remembering our movie nights every weekend, our date to the aquarium, everything.

i don't wanna miss him, but how could i not?

you drew stars around my scars, but now im bleeding.

when things got rough, matt was always there. he was the one telling me it was alright, the one who got me through it all, even if it was silly little things.

"no way! i am not going" i protest and matt laughs

"y/n, you have to." he says, grabbing my hand

ive hated going to the doctor since i was little,

(which matt is very aware of.)

sadly he still wants me to go even though im begging him not to make me

(we both know he'll make me go)

"listen, i know you dont like going, but i'll be there the whole time okay? plus it's this appointment and then one more next month, and thats it."

i sigh in defeat, knowing i can't be upset when he makes it all better.

"fine but you're coming to the next one too." i say and he laughs

"its already in my calender" he says with a smile

i stare at the reminder on my phone about tomorrow's doctors appointment, remembering how matt promised he'd go to it with me.

but that was last month, and things were different then.

i feel tears fall down my face, remembering how much better things were with matt.

i go on messages and click on matts contact, debating on calling him.

i groan, putting my phone back in my pocket, driving to the appointment.

but i knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss, i knew you'd haunt all of my what if's

its been 2 months since everything, and me and matt have been texting a little bit since, thing's aren't the same, they never will be.

it'll never be like how it used to.

"matt! stop!" i say laughing

"get off!" i yell with laughter

if someone were to walk in right now, they'd see two lovestruck teenagers in matts bed.

he's currently tickling me to death and attacking me with kisses.

and even though i'm telling him to stop, in this moment, i feel like i've never been happier.

he stops his actions and his face hovers above mine, his eyes flickering to my lips

i smile, and he kisses me softy.

a kiss filled with love and passion, a kiss i'll never forget.

i knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired

me and nick have been on call for a while and somehow the topic stumbled on to matt and the girl i walked in on him with

"yeah i think matt's tired of her or something, me and chris don't really like her either" he says and my eyes widen

"what do you mean he's tired of her?" i ask

"well, he used to be more excited around her but now the most i see him smiling is when he's texting you"

nick says and my heart flutters

i can't go back to matt, not after what he did.

but i do really miss him, and i know he misses me too.

"you should start talking to him more, i know he really hurt you after what he did but i think he's truly changed, he seems just- i dont know- different." nick rambles on

"i dont know nick... after what he did, if he's really changed, he's gonna have to prove it to me." i say.

i knew you'd come back to me.

"happy birthday to y/n, happy birthday to you!" the party sings and i blow out my candles

i am happy, but i can't help but feel like somethings missing.

all my friends and family are here, everyone i know and love, everyone except matt.

i feel sadness fill my thoughts for a moment but brush it off, i can't be sad right now, not here, not today.

i watch as everyone encourages me to open gifts, agreeing while sitting down around the pile of presants.

i open them, listening to the chatter around me and the rain pouring from outside, opening all but 1.

"who's this one from?" i ask, laughing at the handwriting, but nobody answers.

i look around at everyone as they stay silent, making me look down at the writing again, instantly remembering that only matt writes his T's like that.

i smile, unwrapping the gift.

my eyes widen at the sight, its a necklace i said i wanted last year.

he remembered.

a smile, observing it, when suddenly there’s a knock at the door.

i look around, confused because everyone was already here, but still getting up to open the door.

i widen my eyes at the sight of matt, soaking wet, drenched by the rain.

"listen, i'm sorry, truly y/n. i was so fucked up for leading you on like that and then just throwing it all away, it's you y/n it's always been you. you're the one for me, and i know i messed up but i can't sit at home re-reading our texts and watching our old videos, i want you back- please i- i need you back." he says, voice hoarse from crying, tears streaming down his face.

"i-" i try to find the words to respond, but can't

i step out onto the porch where he was standing, letting the rain drench me as well.

pulling matt in, kissing him.

a kiss that will forevermore top any other kiss.

a kiss filled with need and desire, a desire to just be close to eachother again.

we pull away after what feels like forever, and he places his forhead against mine.

"you're always gonna be my favorite"

[all-risejd]

A New Judgment Chapter 2: Two Offers and a Smack (Poly Judgment Day Fic)

Written by Scarletxraine who can’t seem to remember to post to this godforsaken hellsite so has me post here for your enjoyment!

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

The men of the Judgement Day share a confused look. "Well, that makes things more interesting." Damien comments once Triple H and Nessa were gone.

"Dom, did you know she was going to be here?" Finn asks, stepping over to Dominik and helping him off the exam bed. Dominik doesn't answer, just looks down at his hand that is clasping the bracelet.

"Dom are you ok man?" Damien asks, starting to worry about his young partner. "Hey what's going on in your head..." He messes with Dominik's hair.

"I gave her this on our anniversary last year. It was tantamount to a proposal how much it meant that I gave it to her." "What do you mean? You broke off an engagement to join us?" Finn asks confused and ready to slap the young man upside the head.

"Not exactly. My grandmother wanted me to give it to the woman I wanted to marry, it wasn't a proposal but more of an intent to propose," He explains "Ow! What the fuck man!" His hand goes to his head that Finn just slapped.

"She seems damn near perfect why would you leave her? You know you could have just joined us as a teammate and not romantic partner, or you both could have joined as our partners?" Damien chides.

"My dad got in my head talking about how mom suffered, and I remembered him never being there for major moments but bringing me in for shock factor when it suited him. I was never around, and I didn't want her to suffer like that and have to see a story of me and someone else. I ended it to protect her, she deserves better than what I can give. Plus, I don't know if she would be ok with that. She gets jealous and territorial." Dominik shrugs.

"Let me get this right," Finn starts and takes a breath, "The girl you apparently wanted to marry and still apparently want to, who is in healthcare like your mum and understands and supports you unconditionally... You break up with her to protect her feelings and in the process break her heart and she still loves and supports you." Finn slaps him upside the head again. "You are a fucking idiot you know that Dom, you fucked up big time."

"Yeah, and I want to fix it at least be friends with her. I want her in my life as selfish as that sounds..." Dominik looks at his partners like a kicked puppy.

"Well, we were texting Mami and agreed that if she wants to join our relationship, she can, we just have to negotiate. If that is something you want of course it has to be a unanimous decision. Or you can get with her again and we all just remain friends too." Damien offers knowing what Dominik's answer will be.

"I don't want to leave you guys either, I don't know." Dom almost whines.

"Well going off her response when we told her she seems receptive enough to maybe broach the subject if you make things right with her." Finn analyzes the conversation from earlier as they head to their locker room.

"We can help, you are not in this alone." Damien offers and Dominik smiles and nods in agreement.

"Right so here is what we will do..." Finn starts.

Nessa and Triple H only walk for a few minutes until they reach his office. He holds the door open for her and holds out a chair for her before he goes and sits behind his desk. A thick stack of papers conspicuously sitting in front of him. "Without realizing it you cut some excellent promos. You made people conflicted about the match and got people on your side." He explains and shows her tweets of people supporting her and the hashtag #justicefornessa trending.

"To be honest I didn't even want to come but Mr. Gutierrez insisted, begged even and to be honest I am hurt about why he did it." Nessa eyes the stack of papers.

"To be honest with you I knew he was bringing you and he worked some things out. He wants to help his son and you. Even with the betrayal he still loves him. He didn't mean to hurt you or really manipulate him." He looks at her sympathetic. "Rey wants to help Dominik, in both his personal life and his career and he asked me to give you a job. It was brought to my attention that you applied to be part of our medical not long after Dominik joined the company. I would like to extend a formal offer. It would be a dual contract. Less than normal talent but more than traditional medical and probably more than you make now." He smiles proud that they came up with this plan.

Nessa looks confused but not surprised, "What do you mean sir?"

"You are a nurse, right?" He asks.

"Yeah, a charge nurse on the Peds Unit."

"Well, we want you to be part of our medical team of doctors and nurses that travel alongside the talent and shows both taped and un-taped. And to be a talent, part of the story and potentially getting physically involved with a potential of matches in the future if both parties agree." He explains and she is intrigued.

"I can't just up and leave my job, I'm under contract and don't want to risk the children's lives." She explains.

"We can buy out your contract, we contacted the facility where you work to put a plan in place only if you agree so there is coverage on short notice." He doesn't even look sheepish.

"So, you and Rey planned this? Why?" She levels a soft glare at him.

"Rey thinks you both can get closure or back together if you had a chance to talk and wants to make sure both of you are happy and taken care of as I said, even though Dom has a grudge against his dad at the moment. Made the story that much easier since it is true." He gives a sheepish smile.

"I can't make any promises, but I'll look over the contract and have my lawyer do the same. When would you like an answer by?" Is her response as she holds out her hands for the stack of papers.

"We would like an answer by Wednesday so we can bring you on at Smackdown and get you some training, which you will continue with your team and an assigned trainer, and safety tests if you are ok getting physical." He answers leaning back in his chair.

"You also have some control over what direction your story goes with them, we are thinking a triangle between you Dom, and Rhea or a "relationship" between you and Damien going by how you two reacted to each other after the match." He adds on.

"What about their true dynamic?" She asks trying.

"We are unsure about unveiling that to the public, they barely accept LGBTQ people and subtext, we don't know how they would handle that." He shrugs, at least honest.

"It would be an interesting thing to explore and explains their dynamic better." She offers and thinking more to herself.

"That is true and something we might explore if the opportunity presents itself. I do hope you decide to join us, Miss Klein." He stands up offering his hand to shake again.

"Thank you for the offer, sir, and please call me Nessa." She gets up and shakes his hand.

"Then call me Paul," He answers, adding, "I look forward to your answer either way Wednesday." He gestures to the door his assistant standing there.

"Rhea wanted to see me, could I go talk to her before I leave?" She stops at the door and asks.

"Yeah, Heather, please show her where Rhea is." He orders, and Heather nods and leads the way. Once there she knocks on the pole before pulling the curtain aside revealing Rhea stretching. She sees Nessa enter and walks over, placing her arm around Nessa's shoulders.

"Finally, I was beginning to think you left mini-me."

"I was going to. Just because I am happy, he has you doesn't mean I want to see it." She shrugs out of Rhea's arm not wanting to be caught in a compromising position in case anyone comes in.

"What's that you got there luv?" Rhea gestures to the stack of papers in Nessa's hand. Nessa looks down and hugs it to her chest.

"Oh, uh nothing to worry about. You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes doll, come sit let's talk before the boys join us and I have to go to my match." Rhea gestures to the couch. "I wanted to make sure to tell you Dominik never cheated on you. He started as just a wrestling partner. He didn't join our romantic dynamic until weeks after he left you. We even gave him the option of bringing you in on the dynamic if you consented. I don't want you to think he cheated on you." Rhea explains and puts a comforting hand on Nessa's thigh, an intimate gesture she doesn't shake off.

"I don't think that, I figured it was something like that. I don't hold it against you as long as he is happy and safe, I'm happy for him." Nessa places her hand on Rheas and squeezes it before continuing.

"That just means he doesn't want to be with me, that I wasn't enough, which hurts more and makes me wonder what is wrong with me." Nessa word-vomits, and Rhea looks dismayed and places her hand on Nessa's cheek gently directing her to meet her gaze.

"Hey no, stop that. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. From what I've seen and heard from Dom you are an angel. I'm sure there was a reason in his idiot mind, you know how men are never thinking through their decisions until after. Did he even ask you about the dynamic before leaving you?" Rhea consoles, rubbing Nessa's back. Nessa shakes her head no, trying to keep from crying.

"I don't know why I'm spilling all this to you, and now I've been offered a job to add to the drama and join the medical team and I don't know what to do..." Nessa sniffles.

"Well sweetheart you preach about wanting Dom Dom to be happy, but what about you? You need to do what makes you happy too. Now it looks like you need a hug." Rhea advises and stands up holding her arms out for a hug. Nessa gets up and hugs her finding a strong sense of comfort in Rhea's arms her eyes closed.

She processes the conversation, and her eyes fly open and steps back from Rhea. "Wait you said something about me joining your relationship?!"

Rhea looks sheepish and nervous and glances at the ground. "Well yeah, if that is something you would like we are open to the idea." She answers.

Nessa stands shocked, unsure how to answer when the boys fling open the curtain and walk in, stopping in their tracks when they see Nessa.

"Hey Mamita, you are still here?" Damien exclaims throwing his arm over her shoulder which shocks her out of her thoughts.

"Uh yeah, Rhea wanted to talk to me."

"Oh yeah when we're alone you can call me Demi," Rhea smiles kindly trying to not make it weirder.

"I'm Luis if you didn't know." Damien gives her a half hug before plopping on the couch.

"You can still call me Finn." Finn chimes in and Dominik is having a staring contest with the ground. Finn and Damien share a look and smile seeing the stack of papers in Nessa's hand.

"Demi, thank you for your honesty and being so kind, I really appreciate it. I value honesty a lot." Nessa smiles a real smile at her and goes over and gives her one more hug to show she doesn't feel weird about the conversation. "It is a lot to process, maybe we'll talk later. Get my number from Dominik if he still remembers it." Nessa adds, throwing a dig at Dom who won't meet her eyes and mumbles sorry under his breath. Finn snickers and nudges the young man.

"Can we all get your number mariposa?" Damien asks winking at Nessa who can't control the blush that creeps up her face as she nods her head. Rhea tries to hide her smile and ends up smirking.

Nessa clears her throat. "Uh could someone show me the way out, I have to work tomorrow morning and want to go to bed. I've had enough excitement for tonight." She asks, and Dominik looks up for the first time.

"Yeah, reinita I'll show you." He steps towards her, but Damien stops him after seeing Nessa's expression.

"You just had a rough match, you need to rest. I'll show mamita out." Damien offers holding out his elbow and Nessa takes it mouthing thanks.

"Hey, I hope we see you again soon!" Finn waves goodbye and Nessa smiles back at him as she walks out of the room with Damien who makes conversation.

"So mamita, I need to ask how do you feel about what you learned today. Are you ok? He pats her hand that is still resting on her elbow.

"Honestly yes, I myself am more flexible with my sexuality, I am proudly pansexual and have no issue with the thought of polyamory. It is more so the fact I am jealous by nature and don't know how I myself could handle it so I am not sure it is for me." She answers honestly but doesn't add on what she was thinking that she is open to try.

"I'm glad you are handling this well, you say you are jealous by nature, but I see no jealousy or being territorial from you regarding Dom."

"Because it has been months and I have begun to accept that he doesn't want to be with me, and as I have said multiple times, I just want him happy I just wish I could be the one to do it." She smiles sadly as they reach the exit door for talent.

"Hey, you made him happy it wasn't your fault he did what he did. I think he freaked out and made a mistake and doesn't know how to fix it. Hopefully, I see you around mamita." He opens the door for her, and she rolls her eyes because she knows what he has been calling her all night.

"That's not my name!" She calls out smiling as she walks out the door, the contract clutched tightly in her hands.

[denied-indian-bimb0]

FAQ

I get asked a lot of the same questions so I’ve put together the main ones I can think of. I’m just posting it to my side blog to make it easier to find and because it’s a little long

Q. Where are you from?

A. England, London

Q. How old are you?

A. 25

Q. Your height?

A. 5’4

Q. Are you from India?

A. No, I was born and raised in the UK

Q. Do you like black/brown dick?

A. I like all races, this is just a kink

Q. Would you play with a woman to please a man?

A. I am pansexual, I would play with any gender with or without the request of a man

Q. Your kinks?

A. Kinks: iq reduction, bimbofication, intox play, begging, praise, slapping, choking, spit/drool, edging, manipulation, forced, corruption/coercion, belittling, conditioning, hypnosis, consensual blackmail, race play, age gap, light bondage, crying, gaslighting, toilet/pee play, cnc (kidnapping + Stockholm syndrome), breeding, orgasm control, ddlg, light pain play, puke play, sexual humiliation/degradation and misogyny

Q. Your limits?

A. Limits: being called a pig/related words, sounding, body shaming, actual racism/stereotyping, being negatively compared to others, scat, anything illegal, kids, incest/ anything that involves or mentions my family in any capacity

Q. Can I fuck you?

A. I don’t have sex too often but if you’re local and I like your personality there’s a slim slim chance

Q. Can you send me photos?

A. You can check #me if you’re looking for porn. If I’m feeling up to it I might send something on request but please try to be engaging

Q. Why do you take so long to reply?

A. Sometimes I’m busy or I don’t feel like being on here. I also get a high volume of messages so sometimes yours will get moved to the bottom or if it’s something that’s not engaging enough for me I might just leave it, please don’t do spam message me

Q. Do you think you’re inferior?

A. No this is a kink, it’s just fun to play on. I’m very secure and know my worth

Q. Do you like hypnosis?

A. Yes, I prefer audio files but yes I have tried text posts, otp, audios and gifs

Q. Are you working towards the bimbo aesthetic?

A. No, the idea is hot but I prefer the bimbo mindset. I would maybe try lip filler just to try it but I don’t feel a need to pump myself up, I’m quite happy with my features as is

Q. What toys do you have?

A. I have them all here: https://www.tumblr.com/denied-indian-bimbo/766511751798931456/i-had-some-people-asking-to-see-my-toys-so-here

Q. Where can I find you in case you get nuked?

A. My free to follow fansly is the best way. I can send videos there, message for free and all of my content plus extra stuff is all there in one place. It’s free to follow and you can click here for the free subscription 💓 my discord is indie_6251 but I’m really not on it much

Q. When did you last cum?

A. 19.05.2024 and I plan to go a year without an orgasm

Q. Can I show you my dick?

A. Only if you think it’s pretty, If I’m not feeling it I’ll likely ignore it lol. I’d much rather receive tiddies or audios of you moaning and touching yourself to me 🥰 I also really enjoy cum tributes

Q. What is your darkest fantasy?

A. What I like changes a lot, you can probably get a feel for what I’m currently into by looking at my most recent posts

Q. What’s your body count?

A. 9 if we’re counting rape, 7 if we’re not

Q. How did you lose your virginity?

A. I’ll link it here ( rape mention warning)

Q. How do you stop your posts from getting flagged?

A. Click here!

Q. How do you masturbate?

A. I like to rub my cunt or use a vibe. I can only edge/cum from clit stimulation

Q. What languages do you speak?

A. Only English fluently

[roseofcards90]

Guys I am begging you to fucking read things I am begging you to read stuff fully before you engage with it 😭

Don’t just look at a wall of text with fancy indenting and lettering and shit and expect it to immediately be something you agree with or something that makes full on sense like please

[catgirlmissy]

I'm putting this under read more bc it's stupid

that being said the second u arent on ur lil corner of the internet and u realise what it looks like when u have a favourite character that isnt conventionally attractive/is non-human its like. Oh

i am a fan of nuance as well but it feels very normal when there is a big thread on why putting a magic equivalent of a shock collar on your child and banishing them to live in a dirty sewer for eternity does not count as child abuse actually and was done out of love actually and it feels very normal when people will bend over backwards to minimise or even justify the part of the narrative where someone hurts them despite the game basically screaming at you that it was a wrong doing regardless of if you even chose to engage with that part of the quest

"um mohg still killed people so actually u cant feel bad for him whatsoever" me when i open a killing people game and characters kill people: no.... that can't be..... i have never seen anyone act that way around let's say messmer but okay . i wonder why that is /s . Going to start commenting um actually he killed people under every cute art of him I see and see how annoying that gets quickly

it is not that deep but you guys need to understand how deeply annoying this is to me, it feels like people are reading him for a beast and not like. a character. which like. narratively he is literally just a guy. I know if u don't give a fuck about a character ur not going to engage with the text the same way as someone who does especially when it's this specific type of writing to asks of you to do a certain amount of gap filling work (it's written like this on purpose) BUT I beg of thee he's not. An animal 😭

escaping a system which mistreated me but i cannot imagine one which functions with a different structure so i am just rebuilding it with myself on top - oh mohgys also so much like his mom actually. no but like... a palace really, and a set of appointed nobles and a very persistent focus on knight culture... okay silly. sure thing. creating my own thing (it looks very much like the thing that should've been mine by birthright but i was denayed)

Is he not the funniest nepotism baby of all time. The fact that his great rune is completely soaked in blood but he still /has one/ is like an equivalent of taking your family's money only to start a rival company . Is he not hilarious that way

He should've been accountant he's so good at streamlining blood sacrifices, getting war surgeons to basically pay blood taxes to you, not that I support kidnapping and blood rituals but that's clever you have to give him that. Can you imagine you are just vibing and suddenly there is a diety above your head like hello. You are under my patronage now. Welcome. No you cannot opt out.

Also this

And the fact that he's wearing a fancy little robe with such detailed embroidery whilst ruling over 2 piles of rocks on fire and 14 people is also just incredible . And he'd name everything after himself if given a chance he's so funny I love that guy

Sorry chat for rambling but like there isn't a bond greater than a random guy and a souls boss with 4 lines of dialogue that you meet in game long after they've lost themself in one way or another I have like 1928181 thoughts at all times he lives in my head rent free and so do sir ansbach and the rest of the mohgwyn npcs and his much less attractive twin brother but I also have a job. And therfore. I ought to go. Blowing a kiss to my beautiful wife

[softquietsteadylove]

Thena and Gil playfully arguing…in business style!

Tyrant King,

If you would find it suitable, I have had a meeting cancellation this afternoon.

Gil's brows raised as he read the email on his phone. It was nothing if not succinct--classic Ice Queen. She didn't even sign it. But he was surprised she had even attempted to invite him over today. She had stated she was busy all week. No time for them to 'meet'.

No time for them to fuck like wild animals in her office between meetings.

Why so formal, Ice? If you want me to come over, just say so ;)

Her response was prompt, which proved to him that she was anxiously awaiting his response, much to his delight. She could play coy as much as she liked, but she wasn't very good at that game. In all fairness, nor was he.

I have a tight schedule today, Tyrant. I am offering my time, not begging you for your company. You may disregard my previous email if you are otherwise engaged.

Ice cold, his Princess was. But Gil grinned, happily responding, still in email rather than texting. She had yet to give him her personal number, but he was honestly just glad she wasn't having Kingo filter his messages to her, either.

As per my previous email, I would be happy to meet if your schedule sees fit, Ice.

Two could play at this game. Even as he was looking over his schedule and moving things around for himself. He really needed a Kingo for himself, and her older chief of staff Karun also seemed really on top of things. He had once joked that he would try to poach them from her, and the look he got made him know why people were so afraid of someone as beautiful and delicate as she was.

I have a meeting slot available from 4 onward.

So, it was a lie that she had a tight schedule. If she was offering her 4 o'clock then that was her last meeting for the day, most likely. Unless she was planning to make wild love for a tight 45 minutes and then have meetings until 6.

The whole hour?

If you think our business will take that long, I can offer you the full hour. I advise you decide preemptively if you require the full allotment.

Oh, she thought he didn't want the full time? She was making a joke about him not lasting long, sure. But he was having too much fun flirting with her to let it get to him. He gleefully typed out his response, already swiping his other hand through his hair.

Please be advised, Ice Queen, I believe I have several positions to propose during our meeting. I do hope you are prepared for such intentions during only one hour.

He would give anything to see her face right now. He liked it when she got kind of flustered, even when she was annoyed with him. Call him childish, he liked having her attention. He was entirely the the old story of a boy not knowing how to tell a girl how much he liked her, so instead he did little things to get under her skin.

She was facetiming him.

He picked it up with a wicked grin on his face, "to what do I owe the honour, Ice?"

"I would prefer not to have a paper trail for this proposal, as you put it," she glared at him. She knew he was having fun with their little entendres. "Are you coming or not?"

"Don't I always, with you?"

"Insipid juvenile," she practically hissed at him. She leaned back in her chair, ever poised and elegant. "If you don't want the time slot, I'll schedule someone else."

Gil frowned. "Are we still talking about us, Princess?"

She raised her brows at him--the minx. "I was talking about meetings."

He growled faintly under his breath. Such an impossible woman he had chosen. "I'll be there. Who would you even have offered it to?"

She shrugged, now playing coy for her own enjoyment. "I heard the Prince Eternal is floating around the city. I'm sure if I contacted his beastly little assistant, he'd come running."

Gil puffed through his nose, feeling like a bull getting a red cape waved at him. "Now you're just trying to piss me off."

Thena's eyes dashed down to her lap. She was playing a game of chicken with him, and the Ice Queen didn't take unnecessary risks. "My time is valuable, Tyrant. And others are willing to pay even more than you."

That may have been true, but no one would give her more.

He tugged at his shirt, calling her bluff, "you hate that guy."

She made a face; there was no lying about that. "Perhaps, but it's always at least a few million whenever he pays me a visit."

Gil rolled his eyes. He didn't have to be part of the rich boys who were all insignificant admirers of hers. He wasn't some kid with a crush, he was the Tyrant King.

"Thena," he began, and immediately she was set on edge. Even though they had made love several times now (not that she called it that). He leaned forward, making sure his shoulders looked nice and wide in the shot. He lowered his voice, giving her his best, most smouldering look. "I want to see you."

Desired effect: achieved. She blinked, looking just the littlest bit flustered, maybe even blushing a little. Her eyes drifted away again, but she was smiling a little, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. The diamond stud on her ear cuff sparkled at him. It made him want to pull it off with his teeth.

"Fine," she attempted to maintain her cold facade, but he could see a little more Thena under it. She drew her lace tighter around her. "I'll tell Karun to expect you."

And with that, she was done talking about it. She hung up, but Gil didn't feel hung up on. He smiled, slipping his phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He stood, fluffing his hair again and grabbing his essentials to tell his security that he was leaving the office.

He had an important date to make.

[jimberlyjones]

i was sharing my voice in combatting antisemitism and then the racist antisemite called ME antisemitic? dude you're the one being a bigot here. not me. i'm am so shocked at this bigoted and racist response from avi / spacelazarwolf.

he wrongly said (AMONG A BUNCH OF UNOBJECTIONABLE STUFF I ALSO REMEMBER!) :

photo ID: screenshot displaying crop of a text post saying: 2023-2024 - current war end ID

then he also said:

photo ID: if you made it to the bottom of this list and actually read everything, reblog with the tag "heard." that's really it. i just want to know that people hear us begging for people to speak up. end ID

so i said:

photo ID: screenshot saying: heard. but also question! why did you use the term "current war"? everything else is all really accurately horrific (sadly) but that term is also very uh. inacurrate to the palestinian experience. the current push of israeli militant expansionism isn't simply a war, and you know this! i'm afraid you'll likely get more pushback from people for phrasing it like that.

also another antisemitic attack in our lifetimes: since 1993 to today the number one antisemitic attack has been the genocide committed by israel's illegal occupation of palestine and israel's unconscionable appropriation and desecration of judaism end ID

AND OUT OF NO WHERE HE SAID??? :

photo ID: screenshot saying: you are a horrible person. delete your blog. end ID

. . .

which somehow turned into this:

photo ID: screenshot displaying crop of ending conversation saying:

consider helping by shutting the fuck up and actually listening to jews. //seriously WHY did you call the genocide a war??? <- answer that first. //AND israel's genocidal appropriation of judaism IS an antisemitic attack on all jews???? literally like messianic judaism what is not clicking!!!! //SHUT. THE FUCK. UP. YOU ANTISEMITIC PIECE OF SHIT. THANKS. //you're the one being antisemitic here bub. i'm jewish too but thanks for the kind reception. wth is up with you dude you got nerves of like. what's the opposite of steel. like what did i do that hurt you so bad i was trying to help and add my 2 cents? i'm on the same side as you!!!! //lmfao you are most definitely not jewish. fuck off my post and go troll somewhere else. //not only are you being so fucking antisemitic to me but you're acting even worse with how racist you've behaved towards palestinians by naming the asymmetrical genocide a "current war". seriously i can't even engage with you in good faith because of this idek wtf this even was dude. your frickn conniption! take a breather and maybe you will be able to like think with your brain dude. like fuck what the fuck was this end ID

to my fellow antizionists jewish and gentile PLEASE be careful who you engage with. i apparently made a mistake here engaging in good faith with someone prejudiced from the start.

[mandatory-blog-stop-asking]

"X People Can't Shoot Laser Beams!"

Hey so I've been seeing a lot of people, now that X-Men Is Hot Again, coming to the conclusion that "X-Men doesn't work as a metaphor for marginalized communities because gay people can't shoot laser beams, so it doesn't hit for me". Do not get me wrong -- people have been coming to that conclusion since 1963. It's nothing new. And, it's great that you're engaging with it! Stories are meant to bring about thoughts and be controversial. But I need you to understand that's already text.

That's not something the stories pretend isn't the case, or something that authors are afraid people will bring up to nullify their experiences with the work -- trust me, the X-Men know, in-universe, that they're not just a harmless ethnic minority.

If you are stuck with "Gay people don't shoot laser beams", please, I am just asking you to keep going one single step and then go "But even if they did, we probably shouldn't genocide them."

Like, this is the crucial thing that I see people who stop conversations about X-Men with "It's a bad metaphor" never engage with. Yes, Cyclops should be held accountable for his powers in a public setting, no one is pretending he shouldn't-- but that's not the point. That's not who suffers the most.

The point is that just because that's the case, mutant children shouldn't die in their homes. Mutant pregnant women shouldn't be told hospitals don't do mutant pregnancies by default. Mutant children shouldn't be barred from schools. Mutant elderly shouldn't be denied access to healthcare.

Just because you're afraid of some people, it doesn't mean people from their group are not people. You do not get to umbrella an entire group connected by genetics and say they all deserve to die just because you're afraid of a few of them.

Of fucking course you should be afraid of Magneto, Professor X, the Phoenix and Quentin Quire. You should also be afraid of anyone who holds nukes, anyone with that much inherited wealth and social standing on birth alone, anyone who doesn't have control of themselves all the time and has hurt others during episodes, and any incels with access to weapons. That doesn't actually have anything to do with them being mutants; that has everything to do with their lives and what they do with their time. Them being mutants just informs the ways they can hurt you, but everyone can hurt you.

A child like Leech didn't deserve to get exploded by a machine just because people are afraid of Wolverine's claws. Stopping the thought at "well Black people can't kill you with a thought" robs the story of the actual point. My man, even if Black people could kill you with a thought, a government-sponsored apartheid state that invades other countries to kill and capture people would still be horrendous.

I am begging you to read these stories not as just a superficial insert-your-favorite-group here allegory, but also as an exploration of how easy it is to get people to agree with villains. How easy it is to manipulate populations, or to sell you on things you would never really agree with in other situations, even highly politicized people who see stories as extensions of their beliefs.

To imply the story doesn't engage with that is to give up without getting to the point.

The messy conversations about power, about community, about responsibility, about leaders who fail and problems with movements that have some points but fail in several ways is valid, and it is there for you to engage with. There's no X-Men story that would genuinely stare you in the eye and tell you "Magneto is not scary."

Of course he's scary. But he's not attacking you because he's a mutant. He's attacking you because he's being persecuted. You shouldn't persecute people on the off-chance one of them will do something to you just because they're born different.

But, yes, Jews can't shoot laser beams. At least not usually. That's true, and thus, X-Men is not 100% about oppressed groups in real life.

It's also a very boring take, dude, like, come on. The thought is incomplete. Please complete it.

[anti-ao3]

[ID in alt text]

good god. i don't have to say how victim-blamey this whole fucking trainwreck is, right.

the bonus:

[ID: a screenshot of the same post above in which the OP takes note of certain tags: #this is mayhaps 75% true #and i am sincerely begging ppl to stop calling this purity culture bc i promise you it's not 😭. The OP, however, states that "Yeah it is purity culture." /End ID]

NO IT'S NOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(if you find this post please don't engage, just block OP.)

[thegodcomplcx]

Literally so true about the “fun little limbo” of 11/amy! the way there is this weird cognitive dissonance in fandom where on the one hand people moan about the love triangle and how unlikeable Amy was by cheating on Rory etc. yet simultaneously it’s sacrilege to think 11/amy is valid on account of the adultery. people are driven by purity politics rather than engaging with the text ergo we must go with the party line that Amy only ever loves Rory because it “redeems” her (boo hiss) whereas the alternative is immoral. (I’d be willing to bet this was a real note from the network/execs once Amy got married - “no more infidelity because it makes your female lead unlikeable”. the subtext is still there but they almost certainly had to tone it down).

On this point, you’re right we never see Amy *getting over* the doctor — on her wedding day she STILL wants to make out with him and interrupts the party to remember him back into existence. this was portrayed as more significant than her actual wedding! (in both the Big Bang and TWORS she can’t remember Rory when he’s in front of her, but she remembers the doctor when he’s not even there.) Yet 2 episodes later when Rory thinks her love declaration is for the doctor she’s like “what, him??!!” As though this is a ridiculous idea when it’s literally based on *all her previous behaviour*!

I think the fandom denial of 11amy is also based on the fact that the writers were too subtle about 11’s feelings apparently. we are supposed to think he plausibly reciprocates river’s love when he is nonsensically cruel towards her and straight up says he doesn’t want to marry her, yet it’s somehow ridiculous to think he may have feelings for Amy based on his behaviour of trusting her completely, placing her opinion of him above all else, acting generally insane/fixated, etc. also, from a storytelling perspective the triangle holds no weight if the doctor is indifferent! it’s established from the beginning that Amy must choose between him and Rory, and at the end 11 begs her to choose him but by then it’s too late. The entire tragedy of this and 11’s behaviour makes no sense if he doesn’t reciprocate; it is SUPPOSED to be a doomed love story!! Anyway thank you for indulging my asks, i am insane about them.

this is why this rewatch has been so fun for me, because i wasn't sure if my hazy memories from a decade ago were an accurate depiction of what happened in the show or if i was clouded by 11/amy nostalgia and like. they're actually just like that. 11/amy had so much more of a complicated and multifaceted relationship than people usually talk about. they want the whole 11amyrory dynamic to be so simple and easy to digest but it's just not!

in my eyes the infidelity makes amy MORE of a likeable character and they should have leaned HARDER into it

the amyrory wedding was so not about rory at all. we don't see the ceremony, we literally only see amy crying and bringing the doctor back into existence. the amyrory wedding is literally an 11amy reaffirmation. amy made a public declaration of love on that day and it was not for rory lmao.

and the whole s6e2 "it's not him, it's you" speech is so fucking about the doctor its insane. they literally made an episode about how the doctor thinks it ought to be rory (s7e1). and the reason why they even had to do a divorce plot between them is that the only thing interesting about amyrory is amy's conflicting desire. the love triangle is literally all they have. they are at their best with "the core of our relationship is i love you more than you love me" (and amy's whole i can't give you children i gave you up is sickening btw)

and i literally cant speak on 11river anymore. literally my madonna-whore complex post that's all i have to say about the matter for the rest of time.