#i should have posted this on may 4 of course!

[lcdrarry]

6 May 2024 | 2/2 | LCDrarry Fic

Twin Blades

Prompt: “Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith”, 2005, George Lucas Author: Anonymous Word Count: 3,525 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: lightsaber combat, nightmares

Notes: I had a lot of fun taking a romp into one of my favorite worlds by way of one of my favorite pairings—maybe I'll get around to writing an actual Star Wars, or an actual Drarry, one day. I hope you enjoy my weird brainworm ❤️ Thank you to my lovely friend C for betaing! (Also, I am throwing out the rule where Jedi can't have relationships, because I can.)

Summary: Harry advances a few steps toward Draco, who doesn’t move, only watches him approach with narrowed eyes. “If you’re so sure the Jedi have no power, duel me. If you win, your master will be proud of you.” Draco’s eyes glitter. “And if you win?” “We’ll find out, won’t we?” Harry raises his lightsaber, readies himself. “Come on.” Without another word, Draco lunges at him.

Or, a Drarry-flavored reskin of the battle on Mustafar.

Read it now on AO3.

Please help promote the fest by sharing your favourite submissions, so more people can enjoy all the amazing new Drarry works of LCDrarry. Thank you!

Creator reveals are on 15 June.

[wonder-worker]

I've been thinking about the tragedy of Elizabeth Woodville living to see the end of her family name.

I don't mean her family with her husband, which lived on through her daughter and grandson. I mean her own.

Her sisters died, one by one, many of them after 1485. When Elizabeth died, only Katherine was left, and she would die before the turn of the century as well.

All her brothers died, too. Lewis died in childhood. John was executed. Anthony was murdered. Lionel died suddenly in the peak of Richard's reign, unable to see his niece become queen. Edward perished at war. Richard died in grieving peace. For all the violence and judgement the family endured, it was "an accident of biology" that ended their line: none of the brothers left heirs, and the Woodville name was extinguished. We know the family was aware of this. We know they mourned it, too:

“Buy a bell to be a tenor at Grafton to the bells now there, for a remembrance of the last of my blood.”

Elizabeth lived through the deposition and death of her young sons, and lived to see the end of her own family name. It must have been such a haunting loss, on both sides.

[bakafurai]

Sometimes I think about how Kenji basically said that he likes Rio about as much as his favourite thing in the world...

[itwoodbeprefect]

inspired by my own 9-1-1 / bad buddy post, here's a bad buddy / starsky & hutch sequel about cutting ties with your past, polluting the ocean, throwing small shiny rectangular objects, etc. 🌊

[all444miles]

— JERSEY LUV

— pairing: e-42 miles x black!fem!reader — genre: suggestive, but fluff. — summary: attractive things Miles does that just make you fold instantly. — a/n: this was js in my drafts n i was like "i should post this" while yall waiting 4 my new fic !! the entire time i was writing this I was losing my absolute SHITTT. 😭 Like, i was dead by the first hc. this might as well be those "what's it like dating miles" type shi but i wanted to make it diff, yk? listen to some kind of fold-worthy song while u read this - anyways, im waffling. enjoy, mls !! part 2 part 3 !

MILES MORALES that does not take your attitude. He loves you, yes, but if you do too much or talk crazy, he's gonna put you in your place. It's nun violent, of course, but he may just grab your neck once or twice.

"Chiquita, watch yo tone wit me." "Drop that attitude f'me." "Miss me with that voice, ma."

MILES MORALES that manspreads. that's it. that's all.

MILES MORALES that's always gonna call you by some kind of nickname. He just loves it, and you do too. Princesa, ma, hermosa, the list goes on and on. One time he called you lil mami (if you're shorter) and you actually lost it.

MILES MORALES that always has his hands on you. Your waist, your thigh, your face, everywhere. He just needs to make sure your there.

MILES MORALES that lives for your kisses and always kisses you. Doesn't matter the place, the time, nothing. If he wants a kiss from you, or wants to give you some, it's gonna happen. Especially when you have lipstick/lipgloss on.

"Mi reina, lemme love on you."

MILES MORALES that drives with one hand because his other always on your thigh. It's like his lil resting spot.

MILES MORALES that'll always let you know he misses you, he'll spam you with "i miss you" texts or voice notes w him going on abt his day when you not around ‹3

MILES MORALES that has social media but only uses it to post you. You the love of his life, why wouldn't he let evb else know that?

MILES MORALES that loves to spoil you. You like that pandora bracelet? It's yours. You have a shein cart? Its on its way. He loves to spoil his girl, its his love language atp.

MILES MORALES that always keeps eye contact with you and make sure you keep contact with him whenever yall talking. dont look away if he say sum that makes you fold, he gon grab your chin and make you face him 🤭

"Nah nah baby, don't turn away. Keep ya eyes on me."

quick @ to my boo @laaailuh

© all444miles 2023. do not plagerize, copy, or repost my work in any way shape or form, without my permission.

likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Jamil Viper - Room Relaxation Voice Lines

When Summoned: Well, of course I would go all out on taking care of my appearance. Particularly on my birthday, when I'm to be the man of the hour.

Summon Line: I should take time to relax, at least on my birthday of all days, huh... True, I guess it might not be terrible to have a breather in my room sometimes.

Groooovy!!: I think I could afford to switch up my makeup application every once in a while. ...Maybe just for my birthday, at least.

Home: I'll just rest a bit.

Swap Looks: I should tend to my hair.

Home Idle 1: Won't I ever cut my hair short? Well, this length may require extra care, but I think I'll keep it this way for a while. I actually rather like it.

Home Idle 2: I received a birthday card from Jade. He could have just handed it to me directly, so why did he bother posting it in the mail...?

Home Idle 3: This stays between us, but... Whenever my birthday draws near, I get a little excited. Pretty childish of me, isn't it?

Home Idle - Login: In my private time, I have many things I both want to do and should do. I'd like to make the most of that time.

Home Idle - Groovy: Ortho mentioned he noticed that my makeup was different from usual. I'm not saying he's wrong, but... It's a little embarrassing to have it pointed out right to my face.

Home Tap 1: I like to wear oversized and comfortable clothes. Not only is it perfectly loose-fitting, but it's also easy to move around in.

Home Tap 2: Rook-senpai really does just call anything beautiful, doesn't he? He said as much when I ran into him by chance while wearing this outfit, how absurd.

Home Tap 3: What's my roommate like? Well, he's not a pain, or anything. He's the kind of guy that doesn't care at all if I start doing stretches in the middle of the night.

Home Tap 4: I felt a quick shiver when Malleus-senpai suddenly hailed me. There's no way I would have ever expected that he'd just want to wish me a happy birthday.

Home Tap 5: Whenever I pick out new outfits, I always make sure to try them on first. Of course I make sure to look at the design and material type, but I also like to put an emphasis on comfortability.

Home Tap - Groovy: You want to know what hair care products I'd recommend? ...I don't mind, but don't go telling other people. I'd hate for it to be even harder to find in stock.

Duo: [JAMIL]: I'm expecting a good gift from you, Ortho. [ORTHO]: I think you'll definitely like it, Jamil-san!

Birthday Login Message: So, you remembered my birthday, huh. Thanks. ...Hm? There's something on my head? Oh, it must be some of the confetti from the party poppers. Just a moment ago, Ace and Floyd set some off. I already had my suspicions about what was to come when I saw them trying to lurk in the shadows, but I pretended to be surprised for them. Why...? Well, if I don't give them the right reaction, who knows what'll happen next, right? Even so, they still griped about my lack of reaction. Geez, what do they want from me?

Requested by @farfalla049.

[tarysande]

There are a couple more Garrus-Vakarian-related hills I'm willing to die on.

Maybe this particular bit of fanon has faded over the years, but there used to be a lot of insistence that Garrus is young and somehow inexperienced when he meets Shepard. Canon doesn't really support this. Turians start their mandatory service at 15. Garrus has at least a decade of experience. Even if he's 2-4 of years younger than Shepard (according to Patrick Weekes), he's got at least as much field experience as she does by dint of the difference in turian and human "enlistment" ages.

Garrus is really damn good at his job at C-Sec. You don't give the Case of Investigating the Rogue Spectre to a greenhorn. You give it to your best, most tenacious agent. Pallin may not always approve of Garrus's actions, but that doesn't actually stop him from putting Garrus on the tough case. Also, we don't know much about how C-Sec works but we do know a bit about how the turian hierarchy works, and we know C-Sec was essentially a turian initiative. That means it's a meritocracy where failure reflects on the superior, not the one who failed. So, in roughly a decade (Shepard's 29 in ME1; I always think of Garrus as about 27), Garrus has not only done shipboard military service, but he's also risen to be one of C-Sec's top investigators; Pallin wouldn't risk having Garrus's "failure" reflect poorly on HIM otherwise. I'd say that actually makes Garrus as remarkable in civilian law enforcement terms as Shepard is considered to be within the ranks of the Alliance military.

Of course Garrus was scouted by the Spectre program. And honestly, if his dad hadn't stepped in, I think Garrus would have become a Spectre, no problem. Especially for a turian, he's cut from precisely the cloth the Spectres would be looking for: extremely skilled, extremely capable, and--most importantly--he's a turian not just able but willing to work outside the chains of command that turians are taught from birth to revere and be loyal to above all else. This is the reason Pallin is leery about Spectres: he's a good turian. Good turians follow straight lines; they don't carve out their own paths.

Garrus's dad's not dumb, and he's not cruel, and he, too, rose to the top of the C-Sec hierarchy. He took one look at his kid, I think, and said, "I love my child, but I'd say it's a 50-50 chance he ends up a shooting-first-asking-questions-later Spectre like Saren Arterius, and I don't want to see that happen." Yeah, he uses his parental influence to try and jam square-peg-Garrus into round-hole-C-Sec and Garrus resents him for it, but there's no way he did it just to stop his son from getting his way or because he doesn't like Spectres. I expect Vakarian Sr. had to clean up more post-Spectre-interference messes than we can possibly imagine. But we also know he and Alec Ryder were pals later.

So the importance of what Garrus learns from a Paragon Spectre Shepard is this: You can't just do what you want and claim the ends always justify the means. That's what Saren does. Over and over again. Garrus's code and his idealism and his sense of justice and his ability to work alone should make him a great Spectre, actually, but he needs Paragon Spectre Shepard's actions to show him the lesson he tells her he's learned during ME1: "If the people I'm sworn to protect can't trust me... well, then I don't deserve to be the one protecting them." (And the seed of Archangel was planted.) I think for the first time he realizes that even though he believes his sense of justice to be correct, it doesn't matter for shit if he can't show others why that's so. And that's where the trust comes in. (Also, ow, the extra level of importance this gives their exchange where she tells him she trusts him and he tells her she's about the only friend he has left is... a lot. Cool, cool. I'm totally fine. Nothing to see here.)

When Shepard asks him what happened on Omega, he replies, "My feelings got in the way of my better judgement." Something tells me that this never happens to "good" turians, which just makes the line so much more devastating. And although the lesson some might take away from this is "feelings bad; no feelings ever," the "grey" that Garrus has to learn to deal with is precisely the grey of recognizing feelings, validating them even, but not acting on them until they've been examined. (Which is why my Shepard stands between him and Sidonis; she doesn't give a shit about Sidonis. But Garrus has refused to process his own feelings of failure and self-loathing, so they have to take the therapy session to the Citadel and deal with it there.)

Ahh yes. The mountain range of character analysis.

[forzalando]

Seeing Someone

Lando Norris x friend!reader (female reader)

summary: Lando is finally ready to tell you how he feels when he overhears you say that you've started seeing someone - but overheard conversations aren't always what they seem. wc: 5.5k author's note: a few disclaimers: 1. let's all pretend that everyone has to spend a few weeks at MTC before the start of the season and they commute to/from London. 2. therapy and mental health help are so important - i purposefully left some things vague because people go to therapy for a variety of reasons and it should be normalized! i also didn't want things to get too heavy or potentially upset anyone by choosing to elaborate on something they relate to/hits a little too close to home. 3. this was inspired by a post i saw on my dash that said "when you said you were seeing someone i was hoping you meant a therapist". this originally started out more light-hearted, but the angst came out and i couldn't stop. feeling a little insecure about this one - thoughts and feelings in the comments/reblogs/my inbox would be so cherished and appreciated :) once again, special shoutout to @sof1shticated for being my beta reader. couldn't do this without you, Mel! warnings: mentions of reader going to therapy, mentions of reader drinking, a few curse words (i think), and angst! but there is a happy ending (even if it's a little open-ended)

Lando had searched the entirety of McLaren HQ at this point and started to worry – you were quite literally nowhere to be found. Usually, this wouldn’t phase him, since you were notorious for getting distracted or caught up in conversation with everyone you came across. You especially found ways to delay leaving MTC when you had to be there physically – the commute from HQ back to London each day was objectively the worst part of everyone coming together in the weeks leading up to each new season.

Today, however, the two of you had plans to get dinner at your favorite restaurant in London and you would never miss a chance to devour your favorite scallop risotto, cheese garlic bread, several glasses of wine, and a heaping mound of tiramisu for dessert.

He stopped speed-walking abruptly when he saw a familiar head of brown hair out of the corner of his eye.

“OSCAR,” Lando shouted, his speed-walk turning into a run. “Oscar, have you seen Y/N? She told me to meet at her office at 5:00pm but it’s 5:30pm and she is literally missing. She better have a good excuse, I hate being late.”

“Missing? Are you sure she’s not just caught up in a meeting? I saw her heading to Zak’s office around 4:45pm, did you check there?”

“Zak’s office, of course! The one place I didn’t check. Thanks, Osc, you’re the man.”

Oscar rolled his eyes – “Anytime, Lan. What are you running late for? Hot date?”

Lando didn’t miss the wiggle of Oscar’s eyebrows and slight smirk. It wasn’t a secret to the Australian that Lando had a crush on Y/N – although Lando had never confirmed or denied it, it was pretty obvious to anyone who spent more than 30 seconds around them.

“Ah, something like that,” Lando said nonchalantly, a bashful blush making its way to his cheeks.

“Good luck, mate!” Oscar threw a wave over his shoulder as he heard the retreating sound of Lando’s trainers smacking against the floor.

In truth, although you and Lando were just friends and Lando was terrified he may ruin that, he had plans to tell you about his feelings for you that night at dinner. It had been almost a year since you started working for McLaren, and almost a year of Lando pining after you in secret. He spent most days trying to convince himself he was content just being your friend, but he was determined to make 2024 his year. His first win, hopefully of many, maybe even WDC contender material, and finally plucking up the courage to be honest with you.

As Lando hurriedly approached Zak’s office, he could see that the door was slightly ajar and heard your voice trailing through the opening.

“I really appreciate you taking the time to talk to me, Zak. And a massive thank you for approving the time off on such late notice.”

“Anytime, Y/N, you know you’re like family to me and everyone here. You sure you’re ok?”

“Yes, I’m seeing someone. It’s still new so I’m not set on him yet but I have a really good feeling about it, I’m really starting to wish I had called him sooner. He actually suggested the days off, I’m seeing him on Tuesday and hopefully things continue to go well.”

Lando’s heart dropped to his stomach – all week he had been thinking about tonight. How to tell you, how you might react, how nervous he was, and each day he grew even more anxious. He was panicking – what was he supposed to do? How could he sit across from you all night knowing that he’d missed his chance?

“That’s so good to hear,” Zak said earnestly. “Keep me updated and enjoy your days off.”

Lando could hear chairs scraping and scrambled to leave the scene before you walked out of Zak’s office to find him eavesdropping. He got about 50 feet down the hallway before he heard your voice from behind.

“Lan,” you shouted. “I’m so sorry, I’m totally late but I had to meet with Zak about something and his last meeting went way over.”

You jogged a little to catch up to him – a bright smile on your face that made his heart rate skyrocket and his palms grow sweaty. He couldn’t see you feeling like this. Not tonight, not when he could barely keep himself from telling you that he would be a much better boyfriend than whoever you were dating.

“We still on for dinner? I grabbed everything I needed from my office before I met with Zak so if we leave right this second and ignore the speed limit, they may seat us,” you bumped his shoulder as you joked.

Unable to help himself, only thinking about how hurt he was even though you’d done nothing wrong, Lando blurted out an excuse. “Actually, I was trying to find you to tell you I can’t make it.”

He tried not to react when he saw your face fall a little, but he told himself it was because you were disappointed about the last-minute change in plans and not that he wasn’t going.

“You should still go though,” he offered quickly. “I’m sure you have someone you could take with you!”

Your eyes spotted Oscar across the hallway and you smiled slightly – it had been a while since you had spent time with him and you knew he was having a rough week.

“Yeah, I have someone in mind,” you mused, focusing your eyes back on Lando. “Is everything ok? Are you not feeling well?”

“No, I’m fine, I just forgot I have plans.”

“Well, we had plans. You scheduled over me?”

“It’s a last-minute thing. Date thing. Last-minute date thing.”

“Oh,” you gasped. “Oh, that’s great!” You plastered a fake smile on your face – hoping that he was just as oblivious now as he apparently is to your feelings. “I hope you have a great time, she’s a lucky girl! I’ll see you on Wednesday, I’m taking a couple days off!”

Before he had a chance to say anything else, you sped off in search of Oscar to bribe him to accompany you to dinner. While you set off across the room, Lando smacked himself in the forehead and groaned.

“Why did you tell her it was a date, you idiot,” he mumbled to himself. Now, it was his turn to speed walk through McLaren HQ, but if he had turned around just for a moment, he would have caught you stopped in your tracks staring at him longingly as he walked away.

You shook your head and sighed, continuing your quest to find the younger McLaren driver and rope him into an evening filled with good food and, if you were being honest with yourself, probably a few tears.

A few moments later, you spotted floppy brown hair bouncing as Oscar walked toward the employee parking lot.

“Oscar!” You yelled after him, increasing your pace to catch up to him.

“Hey,” he said, confusion evident on his face, “I thought you were going out with Lando?”

“He’s got a date,” you blurted. “He has a date and he canceled on me and it’s fine. I am fine. But I want my scallop risotto and tiramisu so you’re coming with me.”

“Sure, Y/N, lead the way.”

Oscar was, to put it extremely lightly, confused. Lando was completely enamored by you – anyone with eyes could see it. Oscar was wholly convinced that Lando was going to officially ask you out at dinner tonight, especially after the brief conversation they had while you were late to meet up with him.

Yet, here he was, sat across from you in a dimly lit room as you sipped on your third glass of wine and, with all the subtlety of a neon sign, wiped a tear from your lower lash line.

“It’s not that I’m not happy for him, I’m so happy for him. But canceling last minute is a dick move, right? It’s a dick move. I know I’m just his friend, sometimes I feel like just a colleague, but I’m not being dramatic, right?”

Oscar stared at you blankly – his eyes wide and a look of pure fear on his face. He considered himself good at most things, great at quite a few, but comforting a crying woman was bottom of the list of Oscar Piastri’s skills.

“It’s totally a dick move,” he nodded his head eagerly in agreement. “I just don’t get it – when I saw him earlier he was frantic trying to find you. I think he’d scoured the entirety of MTC, he was out of breath when I found him.”

“Well, at least he had the decency to find me and tell me in person that he planned on ditching me.”

“Yeah, but that’s just it, it didn’t seem like he was trying to find you to tell you that. He complained about being late and when I asked him if he had a hot date, he blushed.”

“He is literally on a hot date.”

“Ok, well, when I asked him I meant did he have a hot date specifically with you.”

You scoffed and set your glass down – as much as you loved Oscar and you knew he’d never judge you, if you had any more wine you’d end up sobbing and not just wiping stray tears away.

“As if! Lando has never once made a move on me even though I flirt, or at least try to flirt, with him any chance I get.”

“You flirt with Lando?”

“I made him a personalized Spotify playlist, had Stroopwafels overnighted to him from The Netherlands after Vegas, bought him a sweater for his birthday with a card that said ‘to match your eyes’, and I compliment him every time I see him.”

“That’s your idea of flirting?”

“Well, yes.”

“Y/N, that’s just being nice to people. You’re nice to everyone. Lando is not going to understand that you’re a little extra nice to him and that means you’re trying to woo him.”

You huffed and slumped in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Ok, well, how would you flirt with Lando?”

“Did you seriously just ask me that question?”

“Yes because apparently you know all about flirting! And by the way, Logan thought I was coming onto him when I was just being nice so some people would consider my actions flirtatious.”

“That doesn’t count, Logan thinks Uber drivers are flirting with him when they say ‘have a nice day’.”

You and Oscar shared a laugh at the mention of your mutual friend – somehow an even more hopeless case than you in the world of romance.

Your laughs turned to giggles and eventually died down completely. A sigh climbed its way out of your throat, the sudden change in your mood evident to Oscar.

“It doesn’t matter anyway – he’s seeing someone so no more trying, and according to you failing, to flirt.”

“You don’t know how serious it is, maybe this was a first date and it’ll go horribly. He definitely doesn’t have a girlfriend if that’s what you’re worried about, he was just saying the other day that Lily and I make him feel painfully single. We can ask him about it on Monday!”

You frowned a bit and tried to recover, but Oscar noticed the way your face fell slightly. “I’m actually taking a few days off, I need some personal time. I won’t be back at MTC until Wednesday.”

“Is everything ok? You don’t have to tell me but if you need anything, you know I’m there for you, right?”

You smiled at Oscar – it was a rare thing to find such great friends in the people you worked with, but you got so incredibly lucky with the McLaren team, especially Lando and Oscar. “I know that, Osc. You’re a gem.”

With a nod of understanding, Oscar changed the subject to something more pleasant, and you enjoyed the rest of your evening with your friend.

When Wednesday morning rolled around, you felt like your stomach might explode from nerves. You had resisted texting Lando over the past few days to ask about his date, you didn’t want to seem too eager and hoped it would come up naturally in conversation during the day. You hadn’t talked to Oscar much, though he’d texted you a few times to check in, but you wondered if he had talked to Lando at all and if he had details on how well Lando’s date went.

You arrived at MTC fairly early, hoping to get a head start on your day. Winter break was nearly over, and you were swamped with finalizing everything for the start of the 2024 season. It wasn’t until lunch that you saw Lando at all and he just so happened to be waiting in your office, sitting comfortably in your chair, while you were walking back from your latest meeting.

“Lando! What are you doing here?”

“I, uh,” he scrambled. “I was just…I don’t know really. I guess I wanted to see you, we haven’t talked in a few days since you’ve been out.”

“Well, we’ve both been busy. You could’ve texted me. How was your date?”

“It was good. Great. How about yours?”

You smiled remembering your evening with Oscar, assuming he had told Lando at some point that he had accompanied you. “Honestly so fun, we had the best time. I hope we get to do it again soon.”

Lando cringed – jealousy rearing its ugly head as he looked down at his feet before answering. “Same, I’ll probably go out with her again this weekend.”

“Good for you,” you gritted. “I’m glad you had fun. I actually have a million things to do so if there’s nothing important…”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to see you. I guess we’ll catch up soon? Hope you enjoyed your days off.”

Mustering up a fake smile, you told him definitely, awkwardly standing as he rose from your desk and left your office. As soon as he was far enough away that he couldn’t hear you, you groaned. The tension between you and Lando was unbearable, though you didn’t understand why it seemed to mostly be coming from him. Before you had a chance to think any further, you could hear your phone buzzing from inside your bag and begrudgingly pulled it out to see a text from Oscar.

did you go on a date over the weekend?

no? why are you asking me that?

well then why did lando just sit across from me and say ‘did Y/N tell you anything about her date?’

he was just in my office, I asked him how his date went and he asked about ‘mine’. i assumed he was talking about Friday and that you told him i brought you?

i never told him, i guess he thought you brought a real date?

You paused before responding to Oscar, confusion evident on your face and in your lack of response. Before you could type out a reply, two more texts came in.

ok something is up because i just told him that i went with you on friday and he said “i know, i saw you in her insta story in the reflection of a wine glass, i’m talking about yesterday”

insane that he looked close enough to see me in your wine glass but not the point

i literally haven’t been on a date in two years

let me figure this out

You slid your phone back into your bag and pulled out your laptop – your Lando problems would have to wait until you were at least somewhat caught up after missing two days so close to the start of the season.

Meanwhile, at a conference room table in MTC, Oscar was confused. Which, as of late, was a common occurrence when it came to you and Lando.

“Mate,” Oscar addressed Lando, “if you’re not talking about Friday, what date did you ask Y/N about? She hasn’t been on a date in forever.”

“Well then he must have canceled on her because she was supposed to have plans yesterday, it’s why she took days off.”

“I don’t know the exact reason why she took days off but she told me on Friday that she was and didn’t seem too happy about it. Said it was personal reasons.”

“Going on a date is personal.”

“Not ‘take two days off of work’ personal! Where are you even getting this information?”

Lando looked away sheepishly, afraid to admit to Oscar that he had eavesdropped on a private conversation between you and Zak. With Oscar looking at him expectantly, and a bit like a pissed-off Mum, he blurted it out.

“I heard her talking to Zak! Last week on Friday, when I was looking for her, she was in his office and the door was cracked. She had asked him for a couple days off and talked about how she recently started seeing someone and was seeing him again on Tuesday aka yesterday.”

Now Oscar was really confused. You had cried over Lando publicly on Friday, and he knew you fairly well, which meant there was no way you would be crying over Lando and going out with someone else four days later.

“I think you need to just talk to her because I promise you, she is not seeing someone. Also, what do you care? You ditched her for a date on Friday.”

Oscar had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched Lando’s face fall.

“Lando, tell me you didn’t.”

“I might have.”

“Jesus, Lando, you heard 30 seconds of a conversation and decided to lie to her? Because what, your ego took a blow? Some caveman instinct?”

“No, I don’t know, honestly. It just slipped out! I had planned to ask her out for real and when I heard her say ‘I’m seeing someone’, I just didn’t know how to be around her. I couldn’t be around her that night.”

“You need to go talk to her. Apologize. Preferably, immediately.”

Lando jumped up from his seat and sighed. “You’re right. She might kill me, and she has every right to, but I have to talk to her and apologize to her. Wish me luck!”

Before Oscar could do what Lando had asked, Lando raced off towards your office, barely stopping himself from tripping over his own two feet.

Across MTC, you had just settled your mind and gotten into a groove of catching up on emails and making progress on deadlines. As soon as you thought to yourself that the day was going better than expected, your office door flung open and Lando Norris was standing stiff in your doorway.

“Lan, I told you that I’m busy. What is going on?” Annoyance was evident in your voice and Lando cringed knowing that this conversation was probably not going to be very pleasant.

“Why did you take time off?”

Your body straightened in shock, of all the things he could have asked you after bombarding you in your office, you wouldn’t have guessed he would pry into your personal life.

“That’s none of your business, Lando. If you were worried about me, you could have reached out, but I haven’t heard from you since you ditched me on Friday.”

Lando could see the hurt on your face, he could see it evident in your body language. He thought back to how you had looked upset immediately when he told you on Friday that he couldn’t go with you – when he told himself it had nothing to do with you wanting to spend time with him.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m sorry for that, it wasn’t – I mean I didn’t, I didn’t want to not go. I just didn’t know what to do.”

“Ok, I’m totally lost. You didn’t know what to do about what, Lando?”

He steeled himself for your reaction – something he had learned by being your friend for the past year was that you held trust and truth in high regard. You didn’t like being lied to, and you didn’t like people trying to dig into your life or get information you weren’t willing to share.

“I heard you in Zak’s office. I wasn’t eavesdropping on purpose, I swear, I was looking for you because you were late meeting me. Oscar told me you might be with Zak so I went there and the door was open. And I heard you. So I lied and told you that I couldn’t go to dinner, I don’t know why I said I had a date. All I could focus on was how hurt I was, I just couldn’t be around you and then I felt so stupid and terrible for lying so that’s why I didn’t text you at all.”

You were completely and utterly perplexed – you couldn’t even react with anger at the thought of Lando listening to a private conversation and outright lying to you. What could he have overheard that he was so upset about?

“Lando, I’m still confused. What did you hear? How did I hurt you?”

“No, no, you didn’t hurt me. You have no idea how I feel about you – I was going to tell you that night.” Lando was word-vomiting at this point, he never wanted you to find out this way but he couldn’t stop rambling. “I have had feelings for you for so long, and I finally decided that I was going to tell you even if I was convinced you don’t feel the same. And now I know you don’t because you’re seeing someone and – ”

You interrupted him sternly, allowing the anger you were feeling to come forth and shoving down your confusion. “I’m not dating anyone? Is that why you asked Oscar about my ‘date’? Where did you get that idea?”

“You told Zak that you’re seeing someone and that it’s new but things are going good. I heard you say you were seeing him again on Tuesday.”

Your eyes doubled in size – if you weren’t so pissed off, you might have found humor in this, but you felt heat rising to your cheeks and your stomach churned at the thought of divulging your personal struggles.

“Lando, I’m seeing a therapist,” you hissed.

He froze for a moment, then scrambled to shut your door which was still ajar from him barging in.

“A therapist? Are you okay? What’s going on, why didn’t you tell me that you’ve been struggling?”

“No, no, you don’t get to do this right now. You don’t get to make me less angry by being kind and caring.”

“I’m not doing it to make you less angry, Y/N, I genuinely – ”

“I don’t care, Lando! You eavesdropped on my private conversation, misunderstood the context of that conversation, and then you lied to me. You hurt me. And now, because you got your feelings hurt and did things you shouldn’t have done, I have to share something I wasn’t comfortable sharing with you just yet.”

Lando was speechless – you could see the remorse on his face, the tears threatening to spill from his eyes, but in that moment you wanted him to feel even worse than you were.

“And you want to know the worst part,” you cried. “I feel the same way about you. I cried to Oscar at dinner because I thought you were with someone else, that you would have rather been at dinner with a different girl.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. Can we please just go somewhere and talk? Really talk this out? I know I messed up, but this doesn’t have to change things or how we feel about each other.”

You wanted to, god, did you want to – you knew Lando hadn’t done any of this on purpose. You knew he didn’t have malicious intent and you knew how hurt he probably felt at the idea of you being with someone – it was exactly the way you felt when you thought the same about him.

“I think you should go, Lan”. Despite every part of you wanting to sit and talk, you knew that you needed some time to settle down.

“Ok,” he whispered. “When you’re ready,” he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat, “if you’re ever ready, you know where to find me.”

His posture made you feel sick as he left your office – Lando was always confident, shoulders back and head held high, but as you watched him through the glass walls surrounding you, he was hunched over. Dejected. You’d only ever seen him that way a few times – after he was torn apart by the media or after making a mistake during a race.

It hurt you to see him that way. But, he had also hurt you, and you needed time.

It had been two weeks since “the incident” with Lando – that’s what Oscar started calling it and it stuck. Fight felt too strong, disagreement felt too weak, so it became something nameless. Undefined. Indeterminate. Exactly like what existed now between you and Lando.

Oscar and Lando were set to leave for Sakhir in a week and you wouldn’t see them again until you joined the team for the Australian GP. If you didn’t work things out with Lando before they left for testing, it would be well over a month without a resolution.

The thought made your eyes burn with tears – you were still upset but more than that you missed Lando. You didn’t even have to wonder if he felt the same because you’d seen him around MTC. He looked just as awful as you, if not worse, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to start a conversation.

You began packing up your things to leave the office, grateful beyond belief that it was a Friday and you’d have two days without seeing Lando’s familiar curls everywhere you turned. At least at home, you would only see them behind closed eyes and wouldn’t have to blink back tears.

A knock at your door startled you, but you assumed it was your team lead looking for your latest analytics report. At least there was one thing you could be happy about – the car data was phenomenal and all signs were pointing to an amazing season for McLaren.

You told whoever was knocking to come in, not looking up from your bag as you rifled through your files. “So sorry, Tom, I meant to bring this to you earlier but I – ”

A throat clearing cut you off, and you looked up to see Lando standing in your doorway with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and one of those cheesy “I’m sorry” balloons in his left hand. You almost giggled, but then you looked at his face and your heart dropped. Dark circles under red-rimmed eyes - he looked awful. 

“I know you said you’d reach out when you’re ready to talk, and I wanted to respect that and give you all the space you need. But, we’re both miserable. At least I think you’re miserable, I know I am. I miss you terribly. I miss my friend. And if that’s all you’ll ever be to me, I can respect that and I will cherish it because the past week has been the worst week of my life.”

“Lando, I – ”

“Please, please let me get all of this out. Please let me apologize.”

You smiled slightly, nodding your head for him to continue.

“I’m sorry for invading your privacy. It wasn’t on purpose but I should have left as soon as I heard you talking because I know how important trust is to you. I violated yours and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lying to you. It doesn’t matter if I was hurt, I could’ve just said I wasn’t feeling well or asked you about what I overheard immediately. After apologizing for overhearing, of course. I’m sorry that it took Oscar talking sense into me for me to come to you in the first place. I’m sorry that I hurt you and I’m sorry that I behaved like a child instead of talking to you about my feelings. My actions made you feel forced to tell me something personal that you weren’t ready to share. I’m so sorry, and I hope you know that I’m here for you always.”

He let out a deep breath and you watched his shoulders relax slightly for the first time in two weeks. You knew he was sorry – you’d known how sorry he was immediately when he started explaining and apologizing the first time around, but you just weren’t ready to hear it yet.

“Thank you, Lan,” you whispered as you walked towards him and took his free hand in your own. “I know you’re sorry and I know that this was all a misunderstanding that just got out of hand.”

“I am also sorry for springing my feelings on you. I wanted to tell you properly, ask you out properly, but I couldn’t explain myself without telling you. I ruined everything, it was woefully unromantic.”

“Yeah, that was a bit shit, I didn’t get my big grand gesture or anything.”

Lando’s eyes grew wide, a hopeful gleam in them. “I mean, would you – is that something you would still want? I don’t want to pressure you and I don’t want to assume that you still feel the same.”

“I do,” you said softly. “But, I think we should work on really moving past this before we officially jump into anything more.”

“I completely agree. However, I do have a reservation for two in about forty minutes to make up for ditching you, if you’d like to join me? Otherwise, I’ll have to bring Oscar. He won’t stop talking about the cheese garlic bread.”

“No, Lando, you don’t understand. He ordered three baskets. I went home and typed an apology email to Zak for ruining his diet.”

You both erupted in giggles, leaning into each other for support and out of habit. It felt so good to laugh, the weight and stress of the past two weeks rolling off in waves as Lando’s shoulder bumped yours and you heard the unmistakable laughter that you’d come to love so much.

“Maybe we should bring him anyway,” you pondered. “He’s been an exceptionally good friend to us both the past couple of weeks.”

“He can come next time, I’d like you to myself for the evening. If that’s ok?”

“More than ok, Lan. I’ve really missed you.”

He leaned in quickly, kissing your cheek gently and then nuzzling his nose against your neck, inhaling the scent of the perfume he’d gifted you for your last birthday. “Not as much as I’ve missed you,” he objected, his eyes glimmering slightly. Wet eyelashes fluttered against your neck as he stayed tucked into your side for a few more moments.

“We’re going to be late,” you whispered, with a sincere lack of urgency.

“Can we go back to my hotel room instead? Watch a movie and order in? Jus’ wanna hold you.”

Your heart constricted – as much as you wanted to tease him and say he owed you a night out and your favorite meal, you wanted nothing more than to spend the night in Lando’s arms.

“Of course, Lan. I think I need that too.”

On the way to Lando’s car, you passed Oscar who gave you both a knowing smile and a short wave. If you asked him if he had been waiting for you guys to leave, he would deny it. He would deny being so invested in your reconciliation that he waited close to an hour after he could leave for the day to make sure you were both ok. He would also deny that he tracked both of you and when it dawned on him that you were skipping your dinner, he sped to that little Italian place and stole your reservation for an order (or two) of cheese garlic bread.

He couldn’t resist sending a poorly taken picture to the group chat with the three of you and you burst out laughing when you opened it.

“Lan, Oscar somehow stole our dinner res,” you giggled, turning your phone to show Lando an unmistakable basket of bread and a follow-up text with several heart emojis.

Lando held his phone up to snap a quick selfie of you two cuddled up in bed, him leaning in for the second time that evening to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. Almost immediately after it delivered, your phones lit up with another text from Oscar.

HOT DATE FR THIS TIME?

You and Lando looked at each other and smiled, the mutual understanding of where you stood with your feelings evident.

not quite yet, but soon :)

[feyascorner]

lingering touches

summary. you offer to bathe astarion and he experiences non-sexual intimacy for the first time.

warnings. comfort/fluff

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

a/n. since my other post talking about this did so well i wrote a short lil fic on it!! TFBU ch 4 is in the works i swear. you may notice me writing a lot of fluff outside of TFBU because it's just an angst fest over there and i need happy astarion in my life

He trusts you. That much is evident when he accepts your suggestion to bathe after a particularly gruesome day out battling against what seems like half the world. But a part of him--the one stuck in the never-ending loop of Cazador's torturous influence--makes him disassociate when you're a few buttons down his shirt.

He's brought back when you hold his hand, eyes meeting with a softness so endearing that he wants to sink into the water and never let go.

"We don't have to do this," you say.

"I want to. Terribly."

You nod and finish undressing the both of you, leading him to the bath where there's already a steaming bath drawn. When he sinks into the water, you're sitting on the opposite side. And while you're only a foot apart, he wants to pull you closer to him.

He notices the way you're shifting---not quite uncomfortable, but a bit bothered by the heat of the water. Of course, he thinks, of course you'd make the bath hotter than your own body can handle for the sake of his own. And regardless, you don't make the first move toward him, in fear of overwhelming him. He may be a difficult person to read, but he can read you like an open book.

He's almost sure he doesn't deserve someone like you, but he's a selfish person.

So he holds a hand toward you. "Come here, love."

You do so, beaming in a way that makes the smallest of smiles stretch on his own lips. You're infectious in a way that scares him and intrigues him all the same. Soon, he has your back against his chest and his arms looping around your waist while you're leaning your head against his shoulder.

He could die here, and he wouldn't complain.

Wordlessly, he takes the shampoo and mixes it into your hair, drinking in everything you do. The way you sigh while he massages it into your scalp, the way you scoop up the water and lift it to wash the dirt off your face, the way you melt into him as if he's a part of you. He wants to be.

"Does it feel that nice?"

You turn, nodding. "Want to try?"

"Oh darling, I'm fully capable of washing my own hair."

"Well, let me at least return the favor."

He nods, passing you the shampoo. You move behind him, propping up on your knees, and generously pouring some on your palm before slathering it over his curly hair. You stifle a laugh when he flinches at how cold it is.

As you wash, he finds himself enjoying it far more than he should be, and by the time you're almost done, he's leaning his head back as if following your hands. It should be embarrassing how enamored he is, but he can't bring himself to care at the moment.

It's strange, this intimacy that strays away from an endless night of pleasure. But it's not unwelcome. Not at all.

And when he leans his head back further, finally able to meet your eyes, you press a kiss to his forehead, and he realizes he doesn't care about the vulnerability of laying himself bare either. Because it's you.

[petermorwood]

Recently I got roped (ha) into an Age of Sail roleplay, and decided I wanted to play the ship's cook. I then realized I don't know too much about provisioning a ship in the Age of Sail! I figured you'd be the sort of fellow to know where I could find resources on that kind of information though?

Well, for a start I recommend sending a similar Ask to @ltwilliammowett (Beat To Quarters) who knows far more about The Age of Sail / Wooden Ships & Iron Men subject than I do.

*****

In the meanwhile here are a couple of books, both of which you may well be able to get through your library, or buy pretty cheaply for your research library. They're also an entertaining read.

The first was recommended to me by Terry Pratchett - "'If you haven't read it, you should!" - when we were at a con together and he was researching "Nation".

It's "Feeding Nelson's Navy" by Janet MacDonald, available here as an ebook and from Amazon as a Kindle Unlimited free read.

The second is "Lobscouse & Spotted Dog" by Anne Chotzinoff Grossman & Lisa Grossman Thomas.

Funny how both books use the same period image - "Shipmates Carousing Below Decks" by William Pyne - as cover art.

"Lobscouse" deals with the same period as "Navy", while also being the author-approved official cookbook of Patrick O'Brian's "Aubrey / Maturin" novels.

Here's a Reddit about making dishes from it, and here's a blog page about making Spotted Dog and why Suet Makes a Difference.

I've already posted about the role correct cooking fats play in making traditional dishes "taste right", and since Atora brand makes both carnivore and vegetarian suets, it's worth tracking down.

Here's a blog page which summarises the Age of Sail diet - think of it as an exam crib to tide you over until you get the books and learn more.

*****

Here's Max Miller of "Tasting History" making lobscouse:

And here are Dylan Hollis and Max making that ubiquitous on-board delicacy and culinary ingredient, ship's biscuit (hardtack / hard-tack / hard tack).

Something very similar was still issued as a ration item at the beginning of the 20th century and into World War One. J.R.R. Tolkien would certainly have encountered Biscuits, Ration, H&P, Army No.4...

...and may well have used them as a basis for the waybread "cram" as mentioned in "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings". This description has the ring (hah!) of familiarity about it.

"If you want to know what cram is, I can only say that I don’t know the recipe; but it is biscuitish, keeps good indefinitely, is supposed to be sustaining, and is certainly not entertaining, being in fact very uninteresting except as a chewing exercise." "The Hobbit" ch.13, "Not at Home"

No.4 biscuits were so hard that soldiers could use them as substitutes for wood...

...and Nelson's sailors probably did the same with theirs.

*****

Terry Pratchett took this wooden quality and - with the dial turned up to eleven - transformed it into the rocky quality of Dwarf bread.

Here's a health nut's real-life version of a healthy nut loaf...

...while this is an example of sedimentary conglomerate rock.

With a bit of judicious cropping, the captions could be swapped and a casual glance would never notice.

Of course this post wouldn't be complete without a certain GIF.

So...

*****

To finish, a few links to more video.

One (12 years ago).

Two - 1 year, including some of the ship's biscuit made in that first one (!)

Three - also 1 year, featuring other dishes - pease pudding ("dog's body"), lobscouse and plum duff. Oh, and ship's biscuit ...

Those are from Townsends, another great source for 18th century food and cooking.

This last example is by Dan Snow, in an extract from a longer History Hits documentary, and is a short general overview of period Navy rations - and of course, ship's biscuit... :->

HTH !

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters Read the Kaladin Chapters

As requested by anon. :)

I once did a post about Stormlight Archive characters reading the Stormlight Archive, which you can find here. This post is similar, except characters are only reading the Kaladin chapters.

(But if you're wondering WHERE Hesina & Lirin are, there're in the first post!)

[Stormlight Spoilers through Rhythm of War!]

1. Adolin

Adolin: So, uh, you and Shallan sure...had a time in those chasms, huh? Kaladin: W-We HAD to huddle together for warmth and stuff! Adolin: [eyes narrowing] Uh-huh. Kaladin: Are you mad? Adolin: Of course I'm mad! Adolin: We've been on TONS of adventures and you've NEVER cuddled ME for warmth! Kaladin: ... Kaladin: That's what you're mad about? Adolin: We are cuddling at the FIRST opportunity we get!

2. Shallan

Shallan: I know that you killed my brother. Shallan: But READING about you killing my brother... Shallan: That was a uniquely horrible experience. Kaladin: I-I had to though. He was killing everyone. Shallan (much too brightly): Oh I know! It's not like I haven't killed my own family members! Shallan: Just saying that if I could still successfully suppress memories, I'd be burying that one! [finger guns] Kaladin: ...This post is giving me whiplash.

3. Elhokar

Elhokar: Um, okay. Wow. Elhokar: So multiple of my guards--including Kaladin Stormin' Stormblessed--really did want to kill me! Elhokar: I was SUCH a bad king that even KALADIN STORMBLESSED wanted to kill me! Elhokar: I'd fall over dead if I hadn't already been MURDERED. Kaladin: I did save you, though. Kaladin: ...The first time, anyway. Kaladin: That has to count for something? Elhokar: Yes, and I was invested enough to see you completely lose it after my actual death so... Elhokar: Let bygones be bygones and all of that. Elhokar: But REALLY. Elhokar: So bad at kinging that even KALADIN STORMBLESSED was in the "kill him" party! Elhokar: Not good for my self-esteem, man. Elhokar: Not good.

4. Bridge 4

Teft: So, lad...that Honor Chasm scene, huh? Sigzil: We knew we were all miserable and angry; we did not know you came so close. Moash: Yeah, you idiot! That was the closest you ever came to dying--by your own hand! Probably the only way you COULD die! Lopen: And it would have meant you didn't meet me, the Lopen! That would have been a tragedy on top of a tragedy! Rock: And no stews either! Skar: What we're trying to say is that we're glad Syl stopped you. Drehy: Yeah. You saved all of us. Kaladin: Guys... Rlain: But also...maybe consider some of that therapy you invented. Lyn: Yeah, for real.

5. Thaidakar

Thaidakar: I should definitely recruit this guy for the Ghostbloods. Thaidakar: Always survives... Never gives up... Collects followers wherever he goes... Thaidakar: This guy could DOUBLE recruitment! Thaidakar: I just need a way to make the Ghostbloods seem honorable...

6. Taravangian

Taravangian: Wow, in a different life, you would have been in Kharbranth, studying medicine. Taravangian: Working at my hosptial. Taravangian: Where I killed people in the basement. Taravangian: ... Taravangian: Very glad that didn't happen.

7. Syl

Syl: I was there, of course. But getting to read it made my realize something... Syl: I literally saved you SO MANY times! Syl: Without me, you never would have made it! Syl: Like, repeatedly! Kaladin: It's true. I needed you. Syl: You may address me as "Syl, my lifesaving savior" forever now. Kaladin: I'm not doing that!

8. Dalinar

Dalinar: You never told me the full story. Kaladin: About what, sir? Dalinar: About how my sending Roshone to a "place where he couldn't do any harm" meant sending him to your actual hometown where he tormented your family and sent your brother to the army where he died. Kaladin: Seemed better not to bring it up. Dalinar: I wish that you had. Kaladin: ... Kaladin: I am surprised that this is your takeaway. Not the fact that I, you know, nearly killed your nephew... Dalinar: You did not kill him. You saved him. Dalinar: If we weighed your almost crimes against my actual crimes, there would be no comparison. I am not one to judge someone else's journey. Kaladin: ... Kaladin: This is where we're supposed to add in some humorous joke to end our dialogue, I think. Dalinar: I don't think that's going to happen. Kaladin: No, I guess not.

[shmooseee]

My preliminary headcanon's for Jason's face over time:

Explanations and uncensored version below the cut:

TW: gore

1.Jaybin

Headcanon that once Jay was living with Bruce and Alfred, he got a lot of baby fat on his face- he has wavy curly hair in my head. Teal eyes - very smiley.

2. Jaybin :(

No way that explosion and building collapsing didn't do some physical damage. In this the skin below his eye has been torn and ripped open, it was ripped to the bone - and his left cheekbone was fractured- I also imagine tears around his forehead and back of his skull from the crowbar - but kind of hidden by his hair. Also his hair was frizzled by the explosion and smoke.

3. Post revival - pre-utrh

I was gonna draw him at his revival but forgot :( -might draw this later but I imagine his mortician reconstructed his face - and since it was a closed casket funeral it didn't have to be super clean. His skin was kept together with staples -

post revival- in his time in the hospital catatonic, it healed super wonky and (based on my own surgical scars) it keloided in some areas and sunk in in some others - and because he wasn't able to treat them- they're super tough and pull at his skin and don't fade properly to white like they should. The scars from the staples are still there. The scar is also a little shiny where it keloided- idk why but my scars do it in certain lighting.

His face is a lot more masculine and older but it still has a decent amount of baby fat (he's still super young). This is about 2 years post revival so hes around 17 - very recently after his time in the pit. (I feel like 15-17 for a lot of kids has huge body and face changes so imagine mentally 15 yr old Jason suddenly so grown- might revise this to make him more baby looking)

The white hairs just begun to grow - i kept the baby curls because of course i did.

I bounce between whether or not the pit healed his scars or not because I find both so compelling- but as an artist i like drawing cool scars more.

4. Post-utrd

His face is a bit more defined again. - now featuring the batarang scar. I haven't put to much though into his other face scars yet so these may change yet again.

His scar has faded slightly but it still tugs on his face massively - it won't go white. He cant smile without it tugging uncomfortably- sometimes even hurting. He smirks like a loser instead. He frowns as his resting face both because hes a bitch but also because of the position of the scar.

Featuring the batarang scar yayyyyyyy- i also headcanon that the doesn't treat it correctly (do you think he has time to massage it and moisturize that many times a day??) so it tugs every time he turns his head.

The white hair has fully grown out and he got a haircut.

I also did one for his body scars - and one for arkham knight jason but i want to redo them with a little more research - quick preview of that though - arkham knight - dealing with the effects of undernourishment from his childhood and from his year with the joker - only grew to about 5'3. And mainline jason that didn't die grew to about 5'6. Will do a comprehensive headcanon list for different universe jays.

[snowysosturn]

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : MDNI, angst, unhappy relationship

The glow of my phone screen illuminated the dark room as I lay in bed, staring at Emily’s message. "Hey girlie." Those two words seemed innocent enough, but my mind conjured up all sorts of terrifying scenarios. Was she going to reveal something about Alex? A secret from their past or, worse, was he cheating on me? I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to make the thoughts go away, but sleep was foreign to me now. I tossed and turned, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me like a heavy blanket. Each time I closed my eyes, the fear of what that message might contain consumed me. If Alex was cheating on me, it wasn’t a reality I wanted to face right now. I waited until morning finally came, I hesitantly opened the message, my heart felt like it was in my mouth.

"Hey girlie! It was so nice meeting you last night. We should definitely do that double date! How about Friday? Let me know what you think! 😊"

Relief washed over me, followed quickly by a sense of foolishness. Of course, it was about the double date. I felt awful for doubting Alex, I knew he would never cheat on me. It’s one of the reasons I fell for him. We were both so morally aligned with one another, same beliefs, same values. Cheating was something we both hated. We had an extreme amount of trust in each other, that was something we would never have to worry about. He wasn’t like most men in that regard, and I loved it about him. It made me feel so secure all the time and I was certain no one would ever match up with me in the same way ever again. I think that may be part of the reason I’m still willing to hang on to the relationship. I responded quickly to her message, and the plans were set.

The week passed slowly, each day a monotonous blend of work, errands, and quiet evenings watching Netflix on the couch with Alex. How exciting. It bothered me how easily he could agree to a double date, but any time I tried to plan something for us, he never wanted to do it. I found myself checking Instagram more often, scrolling through Emily’s pictures, getting a small preview of her life with Matt. She seemed to post him a lot, something Alex never did with me. He’s not the type to broadcast his life on the internet, but a few pictures of us together wouldn’t kill him, right?

Friday finally arrived, and I dressed for the evening rather quickly, not putting in much effort at all. I wore a light blue satin dress that hugged my curves perfectly. I stood in the bathroom throwing my hair up, a few stray pieces of hair falling loose. I couldn’t shake the flutter of nerves in my stomach. Alex noticed my agitated state, wrapping his arms around me from behind as I stood in front of the mirror.

“You look amazing,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“Thanks,” I replied, managing a small smile.

It was the first compliment I received from him in a while, moments like these that held me to our relationship, giving me a reminder of the good parts.

We left our apartment and drove to the restaurant. The LA lights flickering by, shadows of the passing buildings filling the car. Alex seemed relaxed, but you could tell he was excited. I wished I could share his enthusiasm, but my mind was already racing ahead to the evening, wondering what it would be like to spend time with Emily and Matt.

The restaurant was upscale, it had warm toned lighting and classy decor creating an intimate atmosphere. We spotted Emily and Matt at a corner table. Both dressed in all black, they looked like, as some would say, a power couple.

“Heyyyyyy guys!” Emily greeted us with a bright smile, standing to hug us both. Matt stood also, extending a hand to Alex and then to me.

“It’s great to finally meet you.” He said, his voice warm and genuine.

“You too,” I replied, feeling a slight red flush to my cheeks as our eyes met. He had a kind, easygoing demeanor that immediately put me at ease.

We settled into our seats, the conversation flowing smoothly. Matt and Emily shared stories about their adventures, their chemistry clear. They told us the story of how they met eachother in Austin in January while Matt was there on a work trip and that they’ve been doing long distance ever since. Which ultimately led to Emily deciding to transfer to UCLA, allowing them to be closer to each other. Just by watching them you could see their connection. They laughed easily and finished each other’s sentences. I couldn’t help but compare their dynamic to the strained interactions between Alex and me.

Silence fell over us while we stared down at our menus, “What is everyone feeling?” Emily asked.

“Garlic bread and pasta, Definitely” I replied. Matt have me a look as if I’d almost read his mind.

After we gave our order to the waitress, Alex and Emily slipped into conversation, leaving Matt and I sat in silence. Matt turned to me, his smile disarming. “If you were standing in front of a speeding car, and the only way you could make it out alive was telling a stranger 3 things about yourself, what would they be?” Matt questions me. A quick fire question to break the ice between us, it caught me off guard, so I took a second to think.

“You gotta be faster than that if you don’t want the car to kill you, you know, it is speeding” he laughed. Clearly this ice breaker is meant to make you speak without a filter, saying the first thing that comes to your head.

“Uh, my favourite color is green, I’m afraid of fish and my dream growing up was to be a figure skater.” I blurted out.

“Afraid of fish?!” Matt said as his jaw dropped as he laughed at me.

“I hate it when you’re swimming in the sea and you can feel them zooming past you, it gives me the creeps.” I said, trying to justify my answer.

It was nice to talk about myself for a change, I never got to do that anymore with Alex, I can’t remember the last time he even stopped to ask me how my day was.

I found myself relaxing, the ease of his attention a welcome change. “Figure skating is crazy too, do you compete or anything?” Matt asked me, genuinely curious.

I stopped skating when Alex started in UCLA. Alex started playing football for the Bruins, training every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. The same days I also had skate training. This meant that there would be no one home to make dinner for the both of us in the evenings. Alex could potentially go somewhere with football, so I stopped skating to be able to provide for him at home in the evenings since his nutrition was important.

“Uh no, I stopped a few years ago” I sighed. “I kind of just lost the love for it, we would train every Tuesday and Thursday and the occasional Saturday if we were on the run up to a competition, so it came a bit demanding.” I said, lying through my teeth. I wasn’t about to tell a guy I just met the reason why I really left. Especially when I’m sat right next to the reason. I missed skating, it was my escape from everything bad in life.

“That’s a shame. I bet you’re great at it,” he said, and the genuine admiration in his eyes made my heart skip a beat.

As the evening ticked on, I found myself drawn to Matt’s kindness and attentiveness. He listened intently, asked thoughtful questions, and treated Emily with a level of respect and affection that was impossible to ignore. I watched the way he looked at her, his eyes filled with admiration and love, which made me feel an intense wave of longing. It was everything I wanted.

We laughed over shared jokes and exchanged stories. He told me he was originally from Boston but moved to LA for work reasons with 2 out of his 3 brothers and for the first time in a long while, I felt truly seen. Matt’s attention was like a spotlight, lighting up the parts of me that had been stood in the shadows for too long. I couldn’t ignore the fact of how attractive I found him too. His eyes were so blue it made me melt when we would make eye contact. God why did I not make more of an effort to look nice.

The restaurant was starting to close up, so it was time to part ways. We said our goodbyes to each other, giving hugs and shaking hands. I was aware of the shift within me. As Alex and I drove home, I replayed moments from the evening in my mind, Matt’s laughter, his smile, the way he made me feel, even the horse necklace around his neck caught my attention. I lay in bed next to Alex but my thoughts were consumed by Matt. It wasn’t just his looks or his charm, it was the way he made me feel valued, important. I drifted into a fitful sleep, dreams filled with fragments of conversations, stolen glances, and the warmth of Matt’s attention. The next day I even found myself daydreaming at work, imagining scenarios where we’d run into each other again, where his smile would light up my day. It was a dangerous line to walk, but I couldn’t help the thrill that took over me at the thought of him.

When I got home Alex noticed my distraction, but I brushed off his concerns with excuses of work stress. The truth was, I was caught in a web of my own making, torn between the life I had built with Alex and the idealizing the possibility of something more with Matt. He brought out something within me, a spark of hope and possibility that I hadn’t felt in a long time. I often would have to pull myself back to reality and remind myself, he has a girlfriend.

The night after the double date, I found myself sat on our couch watching Netflix, again. Even though I wouldn’t even consider myself paying attention to the shitty documentary we were watching, as I was too busy caught in yet another day dream. Alex remained blissfully unaware of my inner turmoil, while I grappled with my feelings for Matt. It’s just a silly crush. He could be the love of my life. You’ll get over it by tomorrow. But what if i don’t. You shouldn’t be thinking like this you have a boyfriend too. Maybe he should start acting like one then. The thoughts swirled in my brain. Suddenly, Alex’s phone pings on the coffee table in front of us, the time showing 19:26. I could see from the corner of my eye he had received an iMessage…

a/n : we’ve finally met Matt! wonder who’s texting Alex on a Saturday night… next part will be out Sunday hopefully! (I will 100% be jet lagged so I can’t guarantee a time just yet) also thank you for all the love on the first part!! i appreciate it so so much <33

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt333 @sturnfannn @jayde510 @chrissfavhoe @babyalliah-777 @v33angel @urmom69lol @willowrites @ribread03 @sleepyysavv @sturnsaver

[wintersoldiersoul]

Drowning

A/N: Not sure how I feel about this one but I'm currently going through this situation with my boyfriend and I thought that writing about it might help me feel better. Haven't gotten to the part where I talk to him about it but maybe this will inspire me.

It was late. Too late. You should be sleeping but it was impossible with your mind racing. You and Bucky had been together for almost a year now but you never really felt secure in your relationship with him. Maybe it was the way that your last boyfriend had broken up with you out of nowhere. You wish you knew why, but you always felt like Bucky was going to run. 

As much as you loved him, you also wanted more from him. More reassurance. More romance. More small gestures to show you that he cared. And you couldn’t blame him for not giving them to you when you hadn’t asked but as much as you preached the importance of communication to your friends, you were a hypocrite. You could never apply that to your own relationship.

Everytime you tried to express your feelings, you couldn’t do it. What if I’m right? What if I tell him that I’m afraid he’s gonna leave and he finally takes it as his chance to do so? You would think. Or what if I plant the idea in his head? 

All of this was made harder by the fact that you were younger than him. While he was established with a career, living on his own, you had just graduated college and were back living with your parents. Finding a job felt nearly impossible despite the countless resumes and cover letters that you sent out every single day. Your brain constantly flashed back to a conversation you had in May, where you asked him if you would stay together when you moved back home. Your hometown was less than an hour from where Bucky lived in Brooklyn, so in your mind it was a no brainer. But when your question opened up a conversation that blindsided you.

Bucky explained that he was ready to be settled down. You were shocked when he had said the words, “Sometimes it feels like we have an expiration date.”

The next morning he said he was being ridiculous. That he loved you and of course the two of you would figure it out. But ever since then, you hadn’t been able to relax. Even now, a month into you living back at home you still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going to change his mind. You saw him just as often as you had when you were still living in the city. You didn’t mind taking the train to go see him 3 or 4 times a week. But the stress and anxiety was weighing on you. Combined with adjusting to post-grad life, you were not doing well. 

You had never felt so lonely in your life. All of your college friends had also moved back to their hometowns while most of your friends from high school were still dispersed around the country. The job search left you feeling defeated every single day. And the lack of things to do and structure made life feel meaningless. It was safe to say that you had hit a low point. 

But you wanted to hide it all from Bucky. Because what if you brought up how hard it was to find a job and he realized that this wasn’t going to work? What if you told him how lonely you were and he was offended that he wasn’t enough? He knew that you struggled with anxiety and he was no stranger to mental health issues of his own but you just found it impossible to open up to him about all of this.

So there you were, in the midst of another sleepless night overthinking everything. Laptop opened, frantically searching on LinkedIn for jobs in the hopes that one thing just might work out. You read back your text messages from the past few days. Does he seem distant, or is my stupid brain playing tricks on me? As your spiral continued, you could feel a panic attack brewing. You tried your best to focus on your breathing but it became impossible. You just wanted to talk to Bucky. You needed to talk to Bucky. 

Fuck it, you thought. Losing him would be horrible, but so is living in this fear. Through your tears and shaking hands, you typed a message.

Y/N: Are you awake?

You shook your legs and bit your nails as you stared at the screen waiting for those three dots to show up.

Bucky: Yeah.

You took a deep breath as you sent the next message, trying to not go crazy over the dry single word he had responded with.

Y/N: Can I call you?

You desperately wished you could be with him right now to have this conversation. To analyze his body language in person. But you weren’t with him and you wouldn’t see him til the end of the week and you needed to get this out. Now.

Bucky: It’s late. I’m trying to get some sleep. 

You knew work had been kicking his ass lately. He was putting in insane hours, usually waking up at 6 and not finishing up til midnight. You knew he needed to rest and you almost responded back saying nevermind, and goodnight. But no. You needed to be a little selfish or you would crumble. Tonight felt like a turning point. Or a breaking point.

Y/N: Please Bucky. I really need to talk to you.

Bucky: Ok

Pressing dial on his name, you felt your heart rate increase even more. You tried to take deep breaths to calm your tears but it didn’t help. You were practically sobbing by the time he answered the call. “Bucky…” you said into the phone. 

At hearing your voice, Bucky was alert. He could tell that something was wrong. You had never cried in front of him. “Y/N? Baby, what's wrong? What's going on?” His desire for sleep was completely gone. All he cared about was you. He knew that he wasn’t the best boyfriend. He knew he could treat you better. But the years of trauma he had experienced made it hard for him to be vulnerable with anyone. He loved you so much that it hurt him and he hated himself that he couldn’t fully give himself to you. 

“Bucky, I’m not okay. I’m really really not okay,” you practically hyperventilated. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t keep living like this. I can’t.”

“Shhh, can you take some deep breaths for me?” He said calmly. “I need you to calm down and tell me what's going on.” He listened quietly as he heard you breathe deeply.

“Bucky, I’m terrified,” you finally spoke after a couple of minutes. “I don’t feel secure in our relationship. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells constantly because I’m petrified that you’re gonna leave. That one day you’re just gonna decide that you’re done with me because I’m too young and I live with my parents and I don’t have a job. And trying to find a job has really been taking a toll on me. I’m trying so fucking hard but it feels impossible. It’s so defeating waking up every single day to an email inbox full of rejections and I feel worthless and stupid. I’m not doing well not being in college anymore. I don’t have any structure to my days and life feels really fucking pointless right now. I’m so lonely. Fuck, I’m so lonely, Buck.” You took a pause, bracing yourself for his response. 

“Baby, why haven’t you brought this up sooner? Why haven’t you told me any of this?” There was genuine shock in his voice. 

“Because!” You cried. “I don’t want to remind you about how hard it is to find a job right now. I don’t want you to think about the fact that I live with my parents now while you have your own independent life. I never want to remind you of it because I don’t want you to change your mind and leave. And I don’t want you to think that you’re not enough for me because I’m lonely. I love you so much but I just… I really fucking miss my friends.” 

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me. Like, really listen to me. I am well aware of your situation. I know it’s hard to find a job right now. I’m not gonna leave you, okay? I’m committed to this. To you.”

You sniffled. “But you said that you wanted to be settled down. That we might have an expiration date.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry for that. I never should have said those things. When we had that conversation I was tired and not thinking clearly. And I spent that whole night wide awake thinking about how stupid I was and how stupid I would be to let you go because you need some time to find your footing after college. I hate that those words affected you so much. I’m so sorry.”

You talked to him for a while longer, pouring out all of your insecurities that you’d been holding back. After a while, the conversation started to shift to more normal things.

“Baby,” Bucky yawned. “I love you so much but I gotta go to bed. And tomorrow after work I’ll come see you, okay?”

“Okay. I love you too.”

Your worries wouldn’t fade overnight. You wouldn’t suddenly be able to get a job. Your friends wouldn’t all come back to you. College was over and life was drastically different. But at least now Bucky knew. And he wasn’t going to leave.

[st-eve-barnes]

Leverage (Michael Gavey x fem Reader)

Chapter 1

Summary: When your ex threatens to release some very personal videos you are left with no choice but to do what he asks: seduce the biggest nerd on campus, Michael Gavey. Will you rock his world or will he fundamentally change yours?

Word count: +2300

Warning for the entire fic: 18+ for explicit content and language. Kissing, oral sex (male receiving), dry humping, hand job, fingering, p in v sex. First kiss and loss of virginity. Experienced reader. Enemies to lovers vibes.

Fluff, smut and of course angst (my favorite combination! lol) I haven't watched Saltburn yet so all characters in this fic except for Michael are my own.

Chapter 2 will be posted next week and the plan is to post weekly, there will be 4-5 chapters (depending on how far the muse takes me)

***

All my fics are also on AO3

***

You should have known something was off the second Ben sat down in front of you in the library that morning. You two hadn’t spoken since you’d broken up, some 6 months ago now. The split had been amicable but neither of you had felt the need to pretend to remain friends afterwards. He was a stranger to you now and you preferred it that way.

You both moved in different social circles in the university these days, meaning he was living his dream as a popular fuck boy getting drunk every night and you spent most nights in your dorm room focusing on your studying.

“I need a favor,” he bluntly started the conversation.

“No,” you answered without looking up from your book.

“I think you should hear me out first.”

“Ben, we haven’t spoken in months,” you sighed,”What makes you think I would help you now?”

He leaned closer to you over the table, making you lean back to keep the distance between you two.

“The firm I’ve been dreaming of getting into is offering an internship to whoever scores highest on this upcoming test,” he explained.

“Great, you should start hitting the books then.”

“It’s no use.”

“Why not? I thought you were so smart?”

“I am so smart,” he smirked, making you roll your eyes,”But not as smart as him.”

You looked up and noticed he wasn’t looking at you anymore but his gaze was drawn to the guy sitting a few tables away. You recognized him instantly: ugly outdated shirt, even uglier beige cargo pants and big glasses on his nose, buried into his books as usual. The biggest nerd on campus and beyond: Michael Gavey.

“He’s your competition?” you snorted,”Good luck with that!”

“Luck won’t help me, that’s why I need your help.”

“What on earth am I going to do? I suck at math, you know that.”

“That’s not why I need you,” he shook his head and sighed,”A job at that firm is my dream, it’s what I’ve always wanted and worked towards for the past two years.”

“And if you pass that test you’ll get it.”

“Nobody can beat Gavey, everyone knows the guy’s a fucking genius.”

“Then he deserves the internship, don’t you think?”

”He can literally get any job he chooses, I need this one and I won’t let that freak take it from me.”

For the first time you leaned forward and looked into his eyes, indulging him and giving into your own curiosity.”What do you want from me then?”

“Look at him, I bet that guy’s never even had a girl look at him twice, especially not a pretty girl like you, that dude’s got virgin written all over him, hasn’t he?”

“How is that any of your business, Ben? Maybe he’s not even interested in girls, you ever though of that?” you opted, deliberately ignoring his compliment.

“Oh, believe me he’s interested, I’ve seen him stare when he thinks nobody’s looking. He may pretend to be above all that but the fucker is just as horny as the rest of us.”

“Speak for yourself.” You leaned back and kept your eyes on him while you crossed your arms,”You still haven’t told me what you want from me.”

“I was thinking, having a pretty girl like you pay attention to him might take his mind off all this studying, a distraction like that could kill a man’s entire focus.”

“Only a man who thinks with his dick.”

He smirked at you,”Or a man who’s never had his dick touched.”

“You’re fucking disgusting."

He lifted his hands in innocence,”I just want you to distract the guy a little, make him forget about stupid tests and internships so I can have a fighting chance.”

”You want me to fuck him,” you realized.

He gave you a lazy smirk, his gaze hardening suddenly,“I want you to do whatever it takes to ruin him.”

The words left his mouth so casually and easily it was making you nervous.

“You’re mad, there’s no way. Ask one of the whores you always hang out with, I’m sure there’s plenty…”

“I’ve asked, none of them want him.”

You sighed, annoyed.”Of course they don’t.”

“I need it to be you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the only one I can convince to do this.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that and you shook your head,”You’re out of your mind if you think I would even consider…”

He didn’t let you finish your sentence but instead shoved a photo towards you on the table.

“What is this?”

“This is what I would call leverage.”

You looked at him in confusion,”This is just a blurry picture, what am I supposed to be looking at?”

He smirked at you,”Do you remember that one night we got insanely crazy drunk and I borrowed my roommate’s camera?”

It was only then that you realized what you were watching. It was a picture of a video. A video of a night you had tried very hard to erase from your memory, a night you wished had never happened.

“You kept that?” you asked quietly, the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach quickly growing. 

“It never left my computer,” he said as if it was something to be proud of,”And I guess…we’d both like it to stay on there wouldn’t we? And not…get lost on the internet or around university or something, I mean…I imagine you wouldn’t want that, right?”

You looked at him in complete disbelief and your voice was shaking with your next words,”You wouldn’t…you wouldn’t do that.”

His dark eyes stayed locked on yours,”Don’t doubt that I will do whatever it takes to get what I want, sweetheart.”

You shivered at the cold determination in his tone.

“I’m sorry,” he added,” but I need you to do what I ask if you want that video to stay with me. Get to know Gavey, make him believe you’re interested, how far you take it…is entirely up to you. Just make it work.”

****

You found Michael in his same spot in the library the next day, leaning on his elbow while he was taking notes in one of his many text books. 

For a few moments you just watched him from a distance, watched how enthralled he was in his work, how focussed his eyes were on the pages in front of him, how he kept pushing up his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose in concentration. If the world around him caught on fire right now he probably wouldn’t even notice, all he had eyes for were the numbers in front of him. Ben was right to fear him, this guy’s focus was top-tier, it would take a lot more than a silly girl like yourself to break it. 

But what choice did you have? You had to try.

You stood frozen for a while, uncertain as to how you were going to proceed. You didn’t want to be here and just the thought of what you had to do made your stomach turn. But Ben had left you with no other choice. If that video ever saw the light of day it was over for you.

You swallowed your nerves and walked up to Michael’s table and took a seat opposite him, trying to act both casual and confident. But you were too nervous to pull either of those off.

You cleared your throat before you spoke,”Hey.”

Michael didn’t react, he didn’t even flinch, making you think he hadn’t heard you at all. 

You opened your mouth to speak again but he beat you to it,”What do you want?”

He was still writing and didn’t bother to look up at you.

“Michael?” you asked carefully,”Michael Gavey?”

“You know my name, congratulations, what do you want?”

Your heart sank. How were you ever going to distract this guy when he didn’t even acknowledge your presence? How were you in any position to get his attention when he wasn’t even interested enough to grant you a simple glance?

This was going to be a lot harder than you thought.

“I need a tutor,” you blurted out.

“I’m not your guy,” he answered immediately with a small shake of his head.

“So you’re not the smartest guy on campus then? Shit, I must have been misinformed,” you tried to lighten the mood and it seemed to work.

His lips curled up into the tiniest of smiles but it was gone as quickly as it appeared,”Flattery doesn’t work on me.”

“Flattery works on everyone. Come on.”

He was shaking his head again all the while still writing things down in his notebook, determined to keep up his act of ignoring you and it was starting to piss you off.

“It’s rude not to look at people when they talk to you, you know?” 

Michael just shrugged his shoulders,”Tutoring is a waste of my time, go find someone else.”

“You’re the smartest guy here.”

“I already told you, flattery will get you nowhere.”

“I can pay you,” you blurted out and just like that you had his attention. He stopped writing and put his pen down, finally looking up to meet your eyes.

“Right,” he sighed,”Because money opens every door, does it?” 

His gaze was hard and his lips pursed in a thin line, he was clearly annoyed with you.

“No, that’s not…”

”You rich pricks think money will buy you everything your little heart desires. It’s fucking pathetic.”

“That’s not what I meant…I’m not…” you sighed, defeated as you watched Michael pack up his notebooks and rise from his seat.

“Piss off, spoilt little rich girl and ask one of your rich friends to tutor you. I am not your guy.”

And that was it. You failed before you even had the chance to really try. You weren’t one to give up easily but after that interaction you had no hope of ever getting close to Michael Gavey. The guy was rude and insufferable and clearly not interested in you in any way.

You tried to carry on with your days after that but the weight of Ben’s threat was hanging over your shoulders and dragging you down, making you anxious every day. You were frustrated at the power he still held over you. And even more frustrated by the fact that there was nothing you could do about it.

Your mind was somewhere else entirely when you started your shift at the local pizza place that Thursday night. At least work gave you something to do and keep yourself busy instead of eating yourself up with worry every night. When the manager called asking if you were available for some extra shifts that week you jumped at the chance.

You were working on automatic pilot that night, making your way through the tables and taking clients orders when you arrived at his table.

“Good evening, sir, how may I help you tonight?”

It was only when you looked up and the person in front of you lowered his menu that you recognized him. Gavey.

He opened his mouth to speak but stopped when his eyes met yours, a flash of recognition running across his face.

“It’s…you,” he realized and looking at your name plate he called you by your name.

“Yes, it’s me, hi,” you sighed, trying to stay polite even though he had been so rude to you last time. God, please, don’t let him be a difficult customer, you were not in the mood for this tonight. “What can I get for you, Michael?” you asked with your best customer service smile.

Much to your surprise Michael returned your smile with one of his own, a little awkward and probably as forced as yours but at least he wasn’t calling you names or yelling at you this time. And instead of avoiding your eyes he couldn’t seem to look away from you tonight.

“You…work here?” he asked, confused,”I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I usually only work the weekends, I’m filling in for a sick colleague tonight,” you explained,”The extra money is always welcome, you know.”

“You’re not…you’re not one of them,” he realized, his voice softer than you had ever heard it.

“One of who?” 

“Those vapid rich cunts you always hang out with.”

And just like that he was making it harder to remain polite again.

“They’re just my class mates, Michael, they’re not friends. Unlike some people I am mature enough to be civilized and polite to people even if I don’t like them much. It’s called being an adult, you should try it some time.”

Michael was quiet, his eyes dropping down to the menu before he gave you his order and sank back down into his seat. You almost felt sorry for him seeing him sit there all alone while most people were out with friends tonight.

Almost. Maybe if the guy wasn’t such a dick all the time he’d have friends to have dinner with and not look like such a loser.

When you returned with his food shortly after he just gave you a polite nod and a quiet “Thank you”, which you reciprocated with a quick nod of your own.

“You didn’t spit into my food, did you?” he then asked, making you turn back around.

“No,” you sighed,”I wouldn’t do that. Not even to you.”

He smiled weakly,“Not even when I deserve it?”

You couldn’t help your lips from curling up into a little smile at his unexpected admission of guilt,”No, not even then.”

“Thanks,” he nodded quickly.

“Enjoy your food.”

When you came to his table later to clean up you found a napkin properly folded with your name written on it. You opened it to find a generous tip inside and a message: “Food was excellent, customer service needs some work”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes,”Fucking asshole.” But then you read the next line:

“PS If you still want that tutor meet me in the library tomorrow night at 8”

[littlemissmiller]

Bird in a Cage

Part 2: Wanted and Needed

Pairing: dark!coriolanus x fem!reader

Summary: after spending another night in the palace, president snow has many things planned for you, and he just loves to dress you up.

Warning: 21+ (drinking), eventually smut, dark themes, toxic themes, kidnapping, obsession, possession, stalking

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: hello 👋🏼 ok so…i think i may be able to get another fic out today im thinking chapter 4 of Summer Highs will be ready today sooo just hang in there. this series however, the heat is turning up and we definitely got a smutty moment coming up (also im still working still The Shopkeeper’s Daughter part 2 y’all I promise I’ll get it done) so enjoy this one y’all, i know i did ❤︎︎

Series Masterlist

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

The next morning you realize that you must have fallen asleep in the bathroom as you pull yourself up from the cold tile. Your neck and back hurts and you strain to turn it. You slowly get up and walk back into the bedroom, flopping down on the bed. You curl up, wanting to go back to sleep again, but you hear a knock that jolts you up.

“Yes?”

The same maid from last night enters. She’s holding a new outfit in her hand.

“Good morning. President Snow wishes to see you in this today. He also wishes to have you join him for breakfast so please change and knock when you’re done.”

“Tell him I didn’t sleep well last night and I want to rest. Please.” You plea

“I’m sorry, but these are my orders.” She frowns, holding the dress out in front of her.

You take it and hold it up. It’s a delicate blue, almost the same color as his eyes. It’s flowy, the shoulders slightly puffed out and the neckline is off the shoulder. She also hands you a pair of white heels and leaves the room. You want to cry again, but feel too physically exhausted to be able to. You begrudgingly roll out of bed and change.

Once all done up, you walk over to the door and knock on it. The maid and the two armed guards are waiting outside and you walk with them. This time they take you to a separate part of the palace, up the stairs and into a larger dining room. As you walk you take note of your surroundings, and continue plotting how you’re going to get out of here without him knowing. You might have to disappear for a while, but you’re not about to let him rip you from your life completely.

When you enter, he’s waiting, alone, sipping his tea and reading the paper. He glances up and smiles.

“Come sit my dear.“

The maid leaves, but the armed guards take their post just outside the room. You slowly walk towards and take the seat across from him.

“You look beautiful. I know how to dress you well, it seems.”

“Is this what you made the other girls wear?”

“No.” He flips the page “I tailor my outfits accordingly for each of you.”

“So what does that mean?”

“That dress, that black set? It’s yours. Anything I give you under my care is yours forever, understand?”

“Yes, President Snow.”

“Good girl. After lunch today I’ll have the maid draw you a bath and I’ll have my masseuse come see you.”

“W-why?” You scrunch your face up

“Because you need it don’t you. You slept on the bathroom floor all night.” He smiles

“Thank you.” You mumble, shyly looking away

“You truly look gorgeous this morning. I should have one of the maids curl your hair before you change for dinner this evening.”

“You want me to change again?”

“Of course my dear. One should always look as presentable as possible when they have an evening meal with guests.”

“I normally only do it for special events.” You speak up

“And dinner with the president isn’t special?” He smirks, turning the page again.

You watch him as an uncomfortable silence washes into the room. Then a few avoxes walk into the room with silver trays. Coriolanus pays them no mind, but is interested in what they contain under the stainless steel cloche. They first lay out the silverware, then lift it and serve the plates. It’s a perfectly made French omelette , topped off with chives and a small pad of butter that is still melting, with crumbled crispy potatoes sprinkled over the whole thing. Next to it sits a small slice of toast with a raspberry jam. They then sat down a tea kettle, two silver teacups and served them steaming black tea. Lastly, they leave a pitcher of orange juice and two short glasses. They quietly exit the room and Coriolanus stirs his tea before sipping it.

You look down at your plate then glance up at him. He folds the paper up, making sure the edges are crisp and clean. He notices you watching him and gives a devilish half smile.

“You can start eating if you want.”

You nod and take a bite. Immediately you can taste how smooth and creamy it is. You can taste the ingredients piped inside, an herbed goat cheese and it melts in your mouth. You savor the taste, loving the texture of the egg as it dances with the cheese. Coriolanus takes it upon himself to pour you some juice and you have a strange urge to apologize. You set down your fork and try to say sorry but he cuts you off.

“It’s ok. I don’t mind my dear, here.” He utters

“Thank you, Mr. President.”

“Good girl.” He whispers as you take the glass to your lips.

“So what’s after breakfast?”

“I have a meeting with the Game Makers, a more formal welcome to the new additions than a fancy gala, and you’ll be modeling those dresses I was telling you about.”

“I thought that was just a lie you told my family.”

“Not entirely. You are a model by trade after all, no?”

“I am”

“Well, we need models for this year’s games to advertise the upcoming looks and you’re a model. Seems pretty straightforward no?”

“So you just want me to play dress up for you all day then?” You question, raising an eyebrow

He gives you a stern look and cocks his head. He scoffs.

“Don’t have such an attitude, my dear. It’s not fitting for a First Lady.”

You sit wordless for a moment, scared but also pissed. Fuck him. Fuck this First Lady shit. You desperately wanted to tell him off, but you utter a small apology.

“Good. It won’t even take up your entire day, I made sure of that. After my meeting, I expect you to join me for lunch. I think you’ll like it.”

“Why is that?”

“I asked to have it be served to us in the garden. I thought I’d show you around after.”

“Around the garden?”

“Yes.” He states simply “Are you enjoying your omelette?” He asks, taking a bite of his own.

“It’s delicious. Everything you’ve served me has been amazing.” You state truthfully

“I’m glad you think so.” He smiles, then he holds out his hand. You look at it and he turns his palm over. You hesitantly place just your fingertips on top of his hand. He grasps it and pulls it forward, placing soft kisses on your knuckles. He rubs them gently, smiling at you.

“You’re so beautiful. I hope to make you mine.”

“Why do you think I will please you?”

“Hmm, I bet you don’t remember meeting me at the Gala?”

“N-no?”

He smiles wider, scanning your face to see if you remember anything at all from that night.

Coriolanus goes on to explain how he first saw you and how he approached you, asking you to join his private table. You of course said yes, so he took you by the hand and led you to his group. You sat with him, he gave you lots of wine, and eventually he sent you “home”, allegedly kissing your cheek as he got you into the car, and sent you off to his house. At some point he had indeed drugged your drink and you woke up in the palace instead. You hadn’t woken up the next day, but instead spent two days asleep, the power of the drugs had lured you into a deep sleep, and now you’re having breakfast with him.

“I have your dress from that night by the way. It looked stunning on your body. Red is a great color on you.”

“Thank you”

“Perhaps I’ll have you wear it tonight, to dinner. What do you think, my lovely?”

“I would like to have my dress back.”

“Of course. Like I said, whatever I give you is yours.”

“Well the dress was already mine.” You snicker

You immediately freeze, realizing your tongue may have gotten the best if you, but he merely reciprocates your actions.

“You can’t help but to be such a clever girl hmm?” He kisses your knuckles again

“If you say so. You didn’t answer my question though. Why do you think I’ll please you?”

“Because you were pleasant that night. Funny, charming, easy to be around. My team believes I’ve become too wild and rambunctious. They say I need to settle down and to an extent, I agree. I can’t help but want to enjoy my wealth these days. While I’m still young I don't care, if you understand me?”

You nod along and he continues.

“I figure, most people show who they really are when they meet me. Whether it’s to impress me or win over my favor, I can always see a person’s true intentions. Through whatever facade they come with, I can see their truth.”

“And did you see me then? What was my front?”

“Nothing. You had nothing to hide.” He leans forward “Which is why I find you so special.” He whispers

He rubs your hand, giving your knuckles one last kiss before letting your hand go. You pull it back quickly and relax it on your lap. Then a small ding ding ding cries out from his pocket. He digs around and retrieves his pocket watch. He raises his eyebrows.

“Ah, I have to go my dear!” He claims as he returns the watch back into his jacket. He stands up and moves to stand behind your chair. He places his hands on your shoulders and massages them.

“I’ll see you for lunch.” He bends down to kiss your cheek “and then for dinner.” He kisses you again “be good today my sweets, I have something for you later if you behave. Will you be ok to dine alone for the rest of breakfast?”

You nod and he tilts your face to look at his. With the smallest touch of his forefinger, he lifts your chin so you look at him fully. Coriolanus gives you a curious frown and you know what he wants.

“Yes, President Snow, I’ll be ok to dine alone.”

“Good girl, the maid will escort you to get ready when you’re done, but take your time.”

He smirks, giving your cheek one last kiss. He squeezes your shoulders, sighs, smirks again to himself, and walks away.

You feel as if you can finally breathe, letting out an immense sigh of relief as you hear the door close. You look down at your food and don’t feel like you can realistically finish it. You stand up and knock on the door. The maid opens it and escorts you out. She takes you through the palace, not taking you back to your room.

“Where are we going?” You inquire

“The lounge, that’s where the photo shoot is happening.”

You follow her, still noting the layout of the palace as you walk around. You finally reach a set of tall double doors and the maid opens it, escorting you inside. The room is similar to his office, same crème walls, accented with gold, red Chesterfield lounge chairs

“Ah wonderful!” A man cries out as you enter the room. He’s holding a camera in one hand the other setting up the tripod stand for it to sit on. “Come in dear!” He states enthusiastically. You look around the room and notice several other people getting things together.

“H-hi” you quiver

“The President said you’re a model by trade?”

“I am”

“Splendid! Then I’ll have you change into that first dress on the rack and will move our way down.”

He points to a rack of dress and a room divider in the corner and you nod. You walk over to it and examine the dresses. It seems like they are for District 12, given they are all gray and black. Coal. Of course Snow would want the contestants to dress like this. Parade them around a bit as the very goods that are used to fuel the capital. Almost as a double reminder of who they serve. You look at the first dress. It’s a corset style top with a short length skirt. Around the bottom was a thin layer of black tulle. You take it and step behind the divider to change. You step out and a woman approaches you.

“Beautiful! Let’s fix up your hair and makeup.” She smiles, escorting you over to a vanity.

After about an hour of hair weaving and being all done up like a doll, she shows you a mirror. She’s weaved your hair into several small braids, which she then weaved into a big, ponytail, that sits directly in the top of your head. Your makeup is a clean smoky eye, and you honestly look sexy.

“Ok so it’s very simple just posing with the chairs and other parts of the room.” She explains and walks back over to the camera man.

“Ok my dear let’s have you lay out here. Back on the seat, and kick your feet up, yes, that's it lovely.” He instructs, setting up the camera to be in frame. “Up a bit more, your left leg, that's beautiful.”

You look into the camera, feeling completely comfortable for the first time since being here. This is your element. This is what you’re good at. It’s not all about looking pretty, it’s about selling the look to the audience, the viewer, the buyer and most importantly the person who wears it. You pose in a few more positions on the couch and lose yourself in the fun. That’s another part of this job you’ve liked. The fun. The freedom and the ability to dress up, almost become a different person. It transforms you.

“Beautiful. Ok let’s do a few more in the next dress. Ok dear?”

“Sounds good.”

The next dress you change into is a deep v, showing off the curves and valley of your breasts, stopping just above your stomach. It’s like a huge gemstone, every part of it beaded and bedazzled. It fits perfectly, just how the other one fits and you walk out from behind the divider.

“Oh that’s beautiful! The President sure does have good taste.”

“President Snow picked these out?”

“Of course. He does every year.” The photographer smiles, beckoning you to him. You pose in front of the couch some more, and now find that you feel slightly uncomfortable again. You can’t help but feel Snow’s eyes on you again. Perhaps he’s watching you in this room too. You try not to think of it as you stare into the camera lens, but it only makes you feel more watched.

“Hey dear? You ok?” The cameraman questions, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah I’m fine.” You smile “Just wondering about the other models. Am I going to be shooting with them?” You inquire, seeing if maybe you can talk to one and ask for help.

Maybe someone could get a message out without Snow knowing

You think.

“Not today, but tomorrow we will do all 12, right now we are just getting individuals for each district.”

“Where are the other girls?” You inquire, trying to sound casual

“District Two!”

You nod and the cameraman continues, encouraging you as you pose for him. So you have more modeling tomorrow. You wonder when he was going to tell you and that’s the last thought you have of him during the session. A few more dresses later and your stomach starts to growl. You hold it instinctively, wincing in pain.

“A few more shots and we’ll break for lunch beautiful. That’s it, look here, a little more to the left…a little more, yes perfect!” The camera flashes rapidly. “Ok team! Let’s break for lunch, we’ll come back in an hour and a half and finish up.”

The stylist starts to pack up and the cameraman starts to disassemble his tripod. One of the stylists helps you with your hair and wipes off your makeup.

“We’ll do a new style after lunch, ok dear?” You nod somberly, knowing that lunch for you means lunch with him. As you wipe the rest of your makeup off, the maid walks in with another change of clothes.

“Another outfit?” You examine it and she nods wordlessly. It’s a white dress, knee length, with slightly puffy sleeves. On top is a white hair bow and a pair of white, strapped sandals. You sigh and take it from her. By the time you change, it’s just you and the maid. You also take down your hair, it falls out, now slightly curled from being woven up. She walks you out and around the back of the palace. You eventually arrive at a big sliding glass door that opens into the garden and you can see him in the distance.

Coriolanus is admiring one of his many white rose bushes. He picks one and twirls it in his fingers. You approach him, your footsteps quiet and he doesn’t hear you at first. You step on a leaf, causing him to look up. He smiles, oh so happy to see you.

“Hello my dear.” He greets you stepping towards you.

You stop in front of him and he reaches out his hand to feel your hair. He plays with in between his thumb and forefinger. He takes in your scent, smiling greedily.

“Come darling. I know you must be hungry. Why didn’t you finish your breakfast?” He asks sweetly

Of course he knows. He must have his people keeping track of your meals, the amount you’re eating.

“Was it not good?” He follows up when you don’t answer immediately

“No, sir. It was fine, it’s just that my appetite hasn't been the same since I got here.”

“My darling, you should have told me what you wanted. I want you to be cared for well since you’re being so good for me”

“I-I am hungry though. W-what’s for lunch” you stutter

“You’ll see. I think you’ll like it again.”

You walk with him through the garden and he hands you the rose he was playing with.

“For you.”

“Thank you President Snow.” You nod, taking the steam in your hand

“You’re most welcome my sweets” he smiles, his charming lips curling up almost sinisterly.

You walk a bit more, admiring the other flowers in the garden, and how green everything is. He takes you a bit further until you pass the greenhouse. Around on the other side is a neat table for two looking out into the fountains and waterways. It’s set up with silverware sets and empty wine glasses. In the center is a cylindrical wine cooler and a bottle sitting in it. You’re slightly taken aback at the slight and want to hate how beautifully romantic it is because you’re here with Snow and not someone that you actually love. That you’d actually want to be on a date with. You sigh to yourself, but he notices.

“What’s wrong my angel. Here come sit.” He pats the white iron garden chair and you reluctantly follow his orders.

“Would you like some white wine?” He asks

“Yes please. Thank you, President Snow.” You nod, taking a seat. He sits across from you and uncorks the bottle. He pours you a fair amount and then himself.

“I just recently started having a drink with lunch. It’s nice to go into the rest of the afternoon feeling less tense. And I can still get everything done.” It works out well.”

You nod and look around. It’s hard not to feel somewhat at peace in such a beautiful environment. You avoid his gaze, even though he’s eyeing you like his prey. You glance at him and take a nervous drink of your wine.

“How was your meeting?” You quip up

Coriolanus perks up at the question, his smile widening.

“I appreciate you asking my dear. So thoughtful.” He pauses, sipping his wine. “It was honestly mundane, but productive nonetheless. I’m excited for you to see this year’s upcoming games. We really want to do something new for the 20th Anniversary. “

“Sounds exciting” you lie

“My dear, do you not enjoy the games?”

“I-I never said that…”

“You didn’t need to.” He pauses again, leaning forward. “Tell me if someone you trusted, perhaps even someone you loved, betrayed you, tried to kill you, starve you out, all because they wanted what they couldn’t provide for themselves. Just to take from you, would you simply forgive them…”

“It would be hard, I don’t think I would though…”

“Exactly! Even those we hold close to us can soon turn into a predator and us, the prey. We must never forget our human nature calls for us to given into our animalistic instincts in the most desperate of times. And that’s the biggest game out of them all. Pretending to uphold civility, pretending that we don’t truly want to devour each other for power.” He gives you a devious look, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

“And wanting to devour each other in other ways…”

You nervously look away, out onto the garden. He reaches across the table and tilts your chin to him.

“Look at me beautiful. Don’t be shy with me. Tell me, do you think I’m wrong?”

“No sir, you're not wrong President Snow”

“Good girl.” He whispers

He holds for face and moments later, a few avoxes enter. They once again wheel out a cart similar to the one at lunch, serving up the plates. They take the covers off and reveal what appears to be a tomato soup and a grilled cheese with bacon. It seems unusual at first and you notice how he watches your expression.

“Basil tomato soup, and grilled cheese with bacon, Gouda, white cheddar and apple slices. I think you’ll find it a unique twist on a classic.”

“It smells and looks delicious.”

“Of course. Dig in my dear.” He scoots in, taking his sandwich and biting into it. You pick up your own as well, dunking it in the soup. As soon as the flavor hits your mouth, they storm off into a wonderful dance. You’re not sure how it’s possible, but every meal is as amazing as the last. You sip on your wine to get it down and it pairs perfectly with the taste.

“Good?” He raises an eyebrow

You nod and he gives you a stern look.

“Yes, President Snow.”

“I knew you’d like it. After this you’ll finish up the photo shoot, then I’ll have the maid draw you a bath and curl your hair. I want you absolutely perfect for dinner. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir, I understand” you nod

“Excellent! So tell me how’s the shoot going?”

“Good. It’s nice to feel comfortable here. Modeling has always made me feel good about myself.”

“Does it? Tell me more.”

You're stunned. Like a deer in headlights, you feel frozen by the question. You pause for a moment and you watch as he waits patiently for your response.

“Well I guess when I was a teenager people would tell me how beautiful I was, but I had a hard time believing it and then one day a friend of mine wanted me to try on some clothes and take pictures in it and I just felt natural, I finally felt beautiful.”

Coriolanus reaches for your hand and you put it in his. He kisses your knuckles gently.

“Who ever said you’re not beautiful?” He says, a puzzled look spreading on his face

“N-no one.”

“Then why would you think that you’re not beautiful?”

You pause for a moment and look down again. He squeezes your hand, his face drooping and you gaze into his eyes. They are so mesmerizing. A deep ocean blue, and they compel you to speak freely from your heart. You stutter at first then relax once more under the feeling of his lips meeting your hand once more.

“My mother, she was very superficial when it came to physical appearance. I always felt like I had to please her by looking nice.“ you confess

Coriolanus squeezes your hand even more tight and looks down at his lap. He contains his newfound anger at your mother and then looks back up with a soft smile.

“You are truly beautiful my dear. As long as you’re in my care, I’ll make sure you always feel beautiful and never think that way again. Okay?”

“Yes, Mr. President “

“Good girl.” He kisses your knuckles one last time

After lunch, he sends you off to model the rest of the dresses and you ponder his words. You think about his face, the way he looked as if he might fall apart by simply hearing about your insecurities. How he wants to fix them and cast them away from your mind. Forever. And the way he has arranged your time here. The modeling, the photoshoots, as if he knew that’s when you felt most beautiful. You want to hate it, but there is a part of you that feels cared for. Wanted. Needed. In a way you haven’t before.

꧁🝮꧂

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