#i tagged everyone that seemed interested if i could find a tag on your blog

[russellsppttemplates]

I'll never give up on you (Franco Colapinto)

You think your age is an obstacle, but Franco is set on proving you otherwise

Note: english is not my first language. It's the big doe eyes, the curly hair and the fact that he's very funny, isn't it? It's a very crappy situation for everyone how they got here, everyone recognises that. This is also the first time I'm writing for him 🤍 I always feel and know I have to put this - for those who are here and have stayed, thank you for being so patient and for staying - I hope this is good enough ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking requests right now, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to send them in but know that I don't know when I'll be able to get to them!

my masterlist

Cw: reader is slightly older than Franco (three years), alludes to previous bad relationships, alcohol consumption, relationship insecurity, reader gets accidentally hurt

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @sltwins

"You look gorgeous, Y/N! I love love love this!", Olivia squealed, clapping her hands when she got to your bedroom.

"It's nothing special", you blushed at her compliments.

"It will catch some eyes, you will catch some eyes!", she smiled, "can you help me with my dress, please?", she turned around so you could zip her up.

You and your bestfriend Olivia shared an apartment in university, and once you entered into the job market, you quickly realised that it would be best to keep the same living situation, knowing you'd save some money in a beginner salary and you both felt comfortable about eachother. Her boyfriend Mark had just got a work promotion and he wanted to celebrate it with his friends, so you had been invited.

"Who else is going to be there?", you mused as you packed the essentials on your small purse.

"Some guys from the new department he's in now, Luke - the one we met a couple of weeks ago at the shops -", she began listing the names she recalled, "Amber, and Franco, I think - he doesn't have a race this week", Olivia said.

"Oh, okay", you smiled.

Franco Colapinto knew Mark from one of the teams he had driven for, and despite his career, he was an incredibly down to earth guy. You had met him in a few other occasions and he was funny, kind, always up for a challenge and not easy to persuade out of things. "Things" including flirting with you. At first, you thought it was just his nature and posture towards new people, but after realising he only acted like that towards you, and the fact that he kept making advances and going as far as talking to Olivia about it, you knew it was something else.

"You still haven't changed your mind about him? He's such a good match for you, Y/N/N", Olivia pouted.

The premise was simple - Franco was younger than you, and as much as he seemed interested, it would never lead to anything good. He was young, aspiring an amazing career you were sure he would achieve, and frankly, you couldn't see you in there. He would like to party all out, not have responsibilities and certainly not have to date someone older than him. And this was just at the top of your head - if you let your insecurities really work you up, there were many other reasons.

"We are not! If we did date, it wouldn't last long and I'm not up for that - I've learned my lesson", you tsked.

"You know he's very into you, I'm not sure you can get him to back down", Olivia advised, "I get that you have your walls, but maybe you could give him a chance?".

"He'll probably find someone else, if he hasn't already - now let's go!", you pulled her with you, not wanting to arrive late.

Once you were inside, you quickly spotted the group, greeting everyone and ordering some drinks.

"You're sure you don't want anything else?", Mark wondered.

"I don't feel like drinking anything strong today, but I'll toast to your promotion - congratulations again!", you hugged him.

"Careful, everyone!", you heard the argentinian accent call out, getting you to make room on the table so the bartender could set the tray with all the drinks, "Hello, Y/N, how are you?".

Turning to face Franco, you were instantly met with his bright smile, shiny eyes and wavy hair perfectly tousled, "Hi, I've been good, and you?".

"Even better now that you're here", he winked, "you look amazing by the way, that colour looks beautiful on you", he complimented.

Hoping the dim lighting hid your blushing cheeks you nodded, taking the coaster to our your drink on before looking at him, "thanks, it's not new or anything", you brushed him off.

The night was on a good roll until you came back from freshening up in the bathroom - just as you were about to sit on the high stool, a guy pushed his friend in a playful manner, only for him to accidentally hit you and making you hit your knee on the piece of furniture.

"Fuck", you mumbled, bracing yourself against the table as the sharp pain climbed up your leg no matter how much your hand tried to soothe it.

Before you could process the whole thing, a large hand was placed low on your back, "are you okay, Y/N? What happened?".

"It was us, I'm so sorry", one of the guys apologised as he carried his friend to their table, "do you want me to get something? Again, I'm so sorry".

"It's fine, I've got her", Franco dismissed them before looking at you again, "are you okay?", he asked worriedly.

"Of course", you attempted to speak firmly even though you were sure your face said it all. Your mother always told you you weren't a great liar.

Franco didn't seem to be convinced either, and ignoring your words, he bent down to check your knee, "you should sit so it doesn't swell up, and ice it too", he stated, tapping his shoulders for you to support your weight in them and help hoist you up on the stool.

"I'll go get some ice", Olivia offered.

As she excused herself, Franco gingerly touched your knee, fearing that he would hurt you even more, "is this fine?".

"It's not terrible, but it's hurting, like, it's a pulsation", you winced as he squeezed.

"I'm sorry, Y/N", Franco apologised, "just needed to check that it's not broken".

"You don't need to stay here, Olivia is coming back already", you added, watching the rest of the guys back on the pool table after you assured you were fine all things considered.

"You're the only one I care about, the rest can wait", Franco spoke.

"Look at that group over there", you pointed with your eyes, "wouldn't you prefer to hang out with them?".

The balloons let you know it was one of the girl's 20th birthday, and judging by the way they were looking in your direction, they noticed you too. Or Franco, you assumed.

"I've told you, I don't care about them, now where is the ice?", he muttered, looking around in hopes of spotting your friend in the darkened room.

"She's coming back", you pointed out.

The ice pack seemed to help relieve the pain and perhaps help with the bruising you were sure was going to take over your knee, "Franco, you can go be with the guys, I'll be fine", you reassured him again, "or be with the girls over there, they're very keen on you", you nudged.

Franco looked up at you, his gaze intense and serious, "those girls don't interest me", he replied, "you're the only one I care about".

There it was again.

"Don't say that", you tried to push it away before it dwelled on, "they're all very pretty, your age I'm sure".

Franco smiled softly as his eyes remained fixated on you, "who I pay attention to is you, you're the one I've always paid attention to", he spoke, not caring about the fact that Olivia was right there as she seemed distracted, "I don't care about their age or what they do. They're not you, and I want to be with you, so I'll stay here with you", he stated.

You heart took a lep, and even though you wished you could say something rational, something that made sense, the way he was looking into your eyes didn't let you. There was honesty and sincerity that never seemed to fail and that you could never ignore.

"Let me help you", Franco spoke softly, "right now, you're the only thing worrying me".

Hesitating, you allowed him to adjust the ice pack and keep talking to you about random stuff to take your mind away from the state of your knee, and for the first time in a while, it felt good to let someone else take care of you.

.

"Do you really think that we won't workout because of our age difference?", Franco spoke.

Mark and Olivia went to get coffee for all of you and left you and Franco on the picnic blanket to save the spot and keep your belongings safe. The plan for the afternoon was to enjoy the sun outside and while you were sure your bestfriend had something to do with this whole arrangement, you decided to let it slip and focus on relaxing for the afternoon.

"What?", you mused.

"You always point out that you're older than me, and whenever I make any advances, which I assume you're not too blind about, you never say yes, but don't say no either", he offered, "is it an obstacle?".

"We're good, aren't we?", you spoke.

"We could be better", Franco spoke and he supported his torso on his hands on his sides, "do you know how much I care about you?".

"We're friends", you replied.

"And you're telling me we couldn't be more?", Franco wondered.

"You have so many things to do still, I can't imagine you'd want to be tied to a 24 year old with a job and mundane responsibilities", you chuckled.

"Is that what it is? Do you really think our age difference is an obstacle?", he spoke softly.

"I can't say with such certainty", you mumbled.

"Can I keep on showing you that it isn't?", Franco spoke.

"I'm very stubborn", you recalled, "and I don't want you to waste your time".

"I'm not going to pressure you, but I'm not going to stop trying to show you how much you mean to me - you're very important in my life, Y/N".

.

"Did you salt the water already?", Franco asked as he grabbed the pasta from the cupboard.

"I did", you told him as you chopped the peppers and onions to add to the sizzling pan.

Franco happened to be around the area for lunch, and after he saw your story about being on your own, playfully claiming that Olivia had abandoned you, he offered to keep you company. Taking Olivia's advice that you should give him a chance and explore what you felt for eachother, you invited him over for lunch.

"Can I ask you something?", Franco asked as he dried his hands on the kitchen towell, throwing it to you so you could do the same.

"Now I'm worried...", you joked, "but sure, go ahead".

The smell of garlic browning in the pan filled the kitchen as you added the rest of the veggies, and you could feel the driver's eyes watching you. Up until now, the atmosphere was light, but there was an unspoken tension at the prospect of the question.

Franco couldn’t take it anymore. He was spending time with you whenever he could, getting closer little by little, but he felt there was a wall. A wall that you held strong, despite your shared glances and conversations that often stretched into the night.

“Why…”, he paused for a second, as if he was choosing his words carefully, “why do you keep pushing me away?”.

You stopped stirring the pan, slowly setting down the spoon aside and turned to face him.

“What are you talking about?”, you asked even though you knew exactly what he meant.

Franco turned fully to face you, his eyes fixed on yours, “You know what I’m talking about,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper, "I’ve been trying to… get closer to you. You know how I feel about you, but every time I take a step toward you, you back away. There’s something you’re not saying, and I want to understand why, and if it's the age thing...", Franco let it out.

You sighed, fiddling with your hands as you gathered your thoughts.

“It’s not simple", you murmured, looking down at your feet.

"Then explain it to me", Franco's voice was calm, but insistent, "because from my side, it seems very simple. I like you. You like me, or at the very least you don't seem to hate me and…”, he hesitated, leaning a little closer, "whatever is stopping you… I can deal with it, we can talk about it".

Your heart raced as you looked up at him, "the age difference", you began hesitantly, “we’re from different worlds, different lives. You have so many options, people around you who… who are more in your vibe and in the line of life you can have. I’ve been through things you haven’t even begun to experience. What makes you think this… us, would be a good idea?", you mused.

Franco took a deep breath, taking a step closer until he was almost touching you, “What makes me think this would be a good idea? That we may have something to explore here? Have a shot at something good together?”, he repeated, looking directly into your eyes, "because every time I’m with you, I feel like I’m in the right place. Because no matter how much you think age is relevant, for me, what matters is how you make me feel. I’m not interested in anyone else, because you’re the one I want to explore these feelings with".

You fell silent, feeling his words invade her defenses. No one ever stood up for you like this.

“Age?”, he continued, "That doesn’t scare me. What scares me is losing you for a reason that, in the end, has no bearing on how I feel about you. You're so amazing and I don't want to lose that".

You bit your lip, feeling yourself wavering between the logic you had always used as a shield and what Franco was doing to your heart at that moment.

He took another step forward and gently placed his hand over yours, “I just need you to tell me… is it really age, or is it something more? Because if it’s just that… then we have a lot more to gain than we have to lose.”

You looked at his hand on hers and, for the first time, let yourself relax a little, allowing your brain to consider the possibility.

“What if it doesn’t go well?”, you whispered, voice hesitant and full of vulnerability, "I don't want to make a promise I can't keep, and I haven't let myself explore these feelings yet and... I don't want to hurt you, Franco".

"Y/N", he sighed softly with unexpected tenderness, “What if it does?", he smiled, "I'm not going to pressure you, and from the moment you tell me that there's no interest, I'll stop and we can remain friends. What I'm asking you is that you consider it first... take your time, I'll wait".

In a moment of confidence, Franco cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead, and for that moment you allowed your wall to lower a little more.

.

The good thing about the hot temperatures outside was that most people had taken their Saturday plans to the beach or the pool, so there was less traffic on your way home. You parked your car in the building's underground garage and went up the stairs to the floor where the apartment you share with Olivia is. Judging by how late you left work, your best friend must be home given that she has the free afternoon on Saturdays.

Turning the key in the lock and opening the door, you find a completely dark apartment, which is strange considering you left the blinds half open this morning to let in sunlight. As soon as you step inside, closing the front door behind you, you're surprised by lights that suddenly turn on and a chorus of voices singing the Happy Birthday song.

You hadn't felt in the right mood to celebrate your birthday this year, given and the changes from studying and the stress of your new job, so to say you were caught off guard by this surprise was an understatement. You had told Olivia that you could have something special for dinner to celebrate the day, and while she insisted a little more, she ended up dropping the subject. And you thought that meant the had agreed to your simple plans - that morning, she caught you when you were having your breakfast, wished you happy birthday and gave your her gift, a very simple necklace with a medal with your initial in it, and didn't make any more fuss.

You definitely didn't expect her to be preparing a surprise like this for you.

Besides Olivia and Mark, Franco is the first person you see in the living room of your apartment - which makes you feel a little bad about yourself considering you hadn't even told him that today was your birthday. Besides the three of them, Maria and Julia, your two closest friends from school, were also present, as well as Pedro, one of your best friends from high school that moved to another city, and as it turns out, came all the way to your party.

When the chanting ends, Olivia approaches you with the cake so that you can blow out the candles, everyone's attention still on you. You know you should say something, but right now, you were completely surprised, and talking under pressure was never your strongest suit.

"Thank you everyone!", is all you can say at first, earning laughs from your friends.

You rolled up the blinds, as they had been down so the surprise had full effect and opened the windows, allowing the air to circulate as everyone gathered in the living room, picking at the foods and drinking on the table you were sure were Olivia's doing for the small celebration.

She is the first one you turn to, tapping her shoulder softly.

"I know... I know you said you weren't in the mood to celebrate, but I thought that this is actually what you need - being with the people that adore you and care about you", Olivia goes first before you can utter out a word, "so, please, just enjoy this, okay?".

"Thank you, Liv", you smiled as you pulled her into a hug, "I can't believe that you went through all this trouble".

"It wasn't too much trouble, and Franco helped a lot", she answered, "the guy didn't even know what day your birthday was, Y/N... That's cruel!", she jokes, to which you roll your eyes.

"I probably forgot about that detail", you answer with a giggle, "thanks again".

"Stop being annoying and enjoy it", your best friend says, joining her boyfriend Mark's and Pedro's conversation.

You take the opportunity to greet Mark and then Pedro, who you haven't seen in person for a long time, "I can't believe you came all this way for this!", you exclaim.

"Of course I came! Olivia told me all the news and not only could I not miss your birthday, but I couldn't not come at a time like this", Pedro explains, "besides, how long has it been since we've been together in person?".

"Too long", you reply with a smile on your lips.

"Exactly! We need to catch up!", your friend exclaims, earning your agreement, "but go greet the rest of your guests first and we'll talk more later", he squeezed your shoulder.

You approach Maria and Julia, hugging them both tight. Although you finished your master's degree as they finished their undergraduate just over a year ago, you hadn't seen each other very often since then as work kept you all busy.

"I'm so happy you're here!", you smile, feeling genuinely happy at having all your people together in one room.

"We couldn't miss it. Besides, we've been missing you so much - you were truly a mother to us and I miss being coddled by you -, and we've already noticed that there's news you haven't been telling us...", Julia comments, wiggling her eyebrows and sharing a suggestive smile with Maria.

"What are you talking about?", you wondered with a quirked brow.

"You don't know? I'll tell you then! About Franco Colapinto!", she snickered, "you didn't tell us you were that close", Maria says.

You're quick to roll your eyes - a common response at her usual antics over the years -, "I told you we were friends", you recall.

"Yes, but we didn't know you were that close!", Julia insists.

"I see your annoying curiosity hasn't ceased", you joked, rolling your eyes again, "Anyway, thanks for being here, I really appreciate it", you joined your hands over your heart before excusing yourself.

Your eyes are quick to search for Franco, but you can't find him in the room. A few seconds later, you spot him returning from the hallway, assuming he had gone to the bathroom or had to take a phone call.

"I should be mad at you for conveniently forgetting to tell me when it was your birthday...", Franco starts, to which you shrug your houlders, trying to put on your best angelic and innocent face.

"I know, I'm sorry... with everything going on, I barely had time to think what month we were on and I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about it to be honest", you explained, "but I must confess I'm happy Olivia arranged this, and I know you helped a lot, so thank you so much, Franco".

"I get, I was just messing with you", he smiles, "and you don't have to thank me for it, you know I'll always do anything to see you happy".

"I know, and that's why I am so grateful", you smiled back.

"Might as well give you the present I got you now", Franco points out, "give me two seconds so I can get it from where Mark told me to put it so it wouldn't be in the way of Olivia's plans and before she started staring at me with her 'I'm going to chop your head off' eyes", he chuckled.

You nodded and waited long enough for Franco to pick up a bag and give it to you, " I racked my brain to decide what I should gift you, because nothing seemed good enough, but I hope you like this".

Undoing the bow keeping the paper bag together, you found a copy of your favourite book with a collectable cover. The intricate detailing of the golden foil complimented the colours beautifully and there was a bookmark inside it, the little tassel falling to the side. Taking it to inspect it closely, you read the delicate lettering Don't lose the sparkle that makes you.. you.

"Wow, Franco", you gasped, completely enamoured by the beauty of it all, "this is spot on, I love it!", you exclaimed, hugging him.

"I'm glad", Franco smiles, jokingly wiping sweat off his forehead and making you laugh.

"Have you met my friends?", you wondered.

"Yes, Olivia did all the introductions", the driver answers.

"Good, let's find out what they're going on about", you suggested, setting the present back in a safe place and pulling Franco with you to join the rest of the group.

You spend the rest of the afternoon and early evening chatting, while you eat and drink the things that Franco and Olivia kindly prepared, and playing some board games. At the end of it, you end up having a really good time, in a way that you haven't in a while, feeling really grateful that Olivia had prepared this surprise. Without knowing it, this was exactly what you needed: your friends and some good moments of relaxation.

"Are you leaving already?", you ask Pedro when the young engineer announces his departure.

"I still have to drive back, Y/N, remember?", he reminds you, earning a nod, "but don't worry your heart too much, I'll keep bothering you with messages and calls and stuff... You won't get rid of me that easily".

"Fine by me!", you smiled at him, "thanks for coming, truly!".

"You have nothing to thank me for. I'll be here any time if you need me - I'm a phone call away", he reminds you, "Are you okay?".

"Of course", you smiled, "let me know when you get home, okay?".

"I will. I had a great time meeting you guys today", Pedro waves at everyone, "until next time!", before leaving the apartment.

At around 10pm, Maria and Julia also announce that they need to leave since they would have an early morning. You bid them goodbye to your friends with the promise of a lunch whenever you could find the time to catch up.

"Don't tell me you're chickening out now and going home too?", a slightly tipsy Olivia teases Franco as he got up from the his spot in the sofa.

"I've already told you that I have the day off tomorrow, my friend", Franco teased her back, getting you and Mark to laugh.

"Let's play another round then", Mark suggested, "since there's only four of us now, we can split into two teams and play Party & Co.".

"This is a recipe for disaster if I have ever seen one", you muttered, "Olivia is a terrible loser and you are a racing driver".

"That's why you should want to have me on your team, I'm used to competing", Franco argued in his favor.

"Strong point, argument accepted. Let's do it!", you declared.

During the game, Olivia ends up making up consequences for those who make mistakes, making everyone drink a few sips of their drinks and even Franco joins in with these punishments, arguing that today is an exceptional day to his usual regime.

By the end of the first game, it's clear that you're all drunk, so you make the responsible and sensible decision not to play anymore. Mark and Olivia end up retiring to the room, leaving you with Franco in the living room.

"I hope they don't make too much noise", you point out as you adjust your position on the sofa so that you're facing Franco, making him burst out laughing at your words, "What?! I'm not telling any lies! Have you imagined how uncomfortable it would be for us to be here and hear them having a baby making practice session?".

"You're right, you're right. I hope they don't make much noise", Franco repeats your words and, this time, you both laugh, "So... did you and Pedro date in high school?".

"Did he tell you that?", you ask, unable to contain your giggles.

"Yes, why? Is it a lie?", Franco asks.

"Half, half", you answered with a gesture.

"How is something half half a lie? It's either the truth or a lie", Franco states.

"I had a crush on Pedro, I tried my luck, but nothing ever happened between us", you admitted, deliberately pausing briefly before continuing, "Because Pedro is gay, Franco, and he was clearly making fun of you", you finally let out a laugh that's been bubbling up since he first asked you.

"Are you serious?", Franco mused.

"Yes. Apparently, he found a weak spot in you and decided to exploit it", you answered amused by the situation that must've enrolled when you weren't home yet.

"A weak spot? Nah... We were talking and he just dropped it, I have no idea why", Franco said, shrugging his shoulders.

"What were you talking about?", you wondered.

"Considering we were at your birthday party... We were talking about you", the brown-haired man answers.

"Please continue", you encouraged.

"Curiosity killed the cat, Y/N Y/L/N", Franco declared, but your glare was enough for him to keep going, "He asked me how we met and I told him. And then he told me about you. And he clearly told me a lie".

"Does it make you feel relieved that it's a lie?", you spoke before thinking properly about it. The sudden courage is unusual for you, but you're playing with all your cards on the table.

"I don't know what you're getting at, Y/N", the driver changes the subject, which makes you roll your eyes.

"I know you undertand it, stop acting like you don't. It's a yes or no question - are you relieved or not?!", you insist.

"Honestly? It doesn't do much. If it were true, it would be something from your past, not your present. We both have a past", Franco responds in a somewhat evasive manner.

"But it could be my present again, especially since he was here today", you decided to insist, wanting to understand how far you could push him.

You weren't sure about the game you were playing, and you couldn't quite say that you were thinking clearly, but this feeling of dominance and being in control was enjoyable. Understanding that this was making Franco uncomfortable also made you realize that he wasn't so sure about talking about what he felt for you. The part of you that wants to understand what he really feels for you is ignited, and you can't tame it down.

After the conversation you had, Franco didn't make any advances and never showed that he wanted more than a friendship, which, in a way, left you at ease, but also perhaps a little disappointed. Had he realised that you weren't worth it?

"Honestly, I don't know what you're getting at...", Franco pretends not to understand again, which makes you sigh loudly, "What's wrong?".

"What I'm trying to understand is if what he said to you bothered you or not. And if so, why. But clearly you are not ready to admit it", you state.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N... You're trying to cross a very complicated line", he warns.

"Why?", you keep going.

"Because you asked for time and space and I gave it to you. And now you're trying to cross a line that I've been trying not to cross, because I'm trying to respect your wishes", Franco answers, this time sincerely.

"That's true, I asked you for time and space and you gave it to me. And I appreciate it", you begin, "but... I know I'm getting closer to that line, maybe I'm even playing a dangerous game too, but I'm doing it consciously".

"What if you're not ready for my honest answers?", Franco argues.

"Well, that's a me problem, isn't it?", you shrugged your shoulders, "can I ask my questions and get back honest answers?", and Franco's answer comes out in form of an unhappy sigh followed by a nod of agreement, "did what Pedro told you bother you? Did it bother you to think that we had dated and that he was back here?".

"Like I told you, we both have a past", Franco avoids the question. Tries to, anyway.

"Honest answers, Franco!", you exclaimed, pleading in exasperation, "of course we have a past, but I'm not going to give the past a shot and I think you won't do again what you did before! With Pedro, it would be different, because if we had dated and he was here, that would mean we had a good relationship. So, I'm going to repeat the question again, and I want you to give me an honest answer - did it bother you or not?".

"It bothered me!", Franco suddenly exclaim, "do you want honest? Here it goes! Yes, it bothered me exactly because of what you just said. Even if, by some act of the devil, your other boyfriend came back into your life, I know for a fact that he would never have another chance with you. However, if you had dated Pedro and if he was here today, it meant that he had a chance with you. And if he had a chance with you, then he was someone I would have to look at as competition".

"And now that you know that there never was and there never could be anything between me and Pedro?", you ask him.

"It makes me feel a little less worried. It means that I still have time to try to continue to mend the damage that others have caused, it means that I can still work to show you how much you mean to me and how high I hold you in my life", Franco replies in a calm and honest tone, which surprises you.

Faced with his words, this time, you are the one who doesn't know what to say. You did ask for honesty and there it was.

"You wanted honest answers...", Franco argues, as if he could guess what was on your mind. Lately, it seemed like he could do it effortlessly.

"I know, I'm not complaining", you admitted, "Does that mean that what you feel for me goes beyond friendship?", you ask directly. You needed to hear it from his mouth.

"What can my answer change in our relationship?", Franco asks, not answering your question.

"Nothing. I won't walk away from you this time, I promise. I just need to know", you clarified.

"Do you really want me to be one hundred percent honest with you?", Franco asks.

"Yes, please", you ask.

"Yes, what I feel for you goes beyond friendship. I tried not to let it be like that, I tried to pretend that I wasn't falling in love with you, but there's no way to control what we feel", he declares honestly without ever stopping to fix his gaze on yours, "Every time I look at you, I see someone with whom I can imagine a future... And I know how hasty this may seem, and I know your reservations about us, but it's simply how I feel. You asked me to be honest and I'm being as honest as I can... But I don't want to lose you, Y/N. In fact, I can't lose you, because, the moment that happens, I think I'll end up losing myself too", Franco stated.

His words leave you completely disarmed, not knowing what to say. Looking at it, you don't think anyone has ever said something like that to you. The words overwhelm you and there doesn't seem to be a right thing to tell him back.

"Can we just forget I said all this?", Franco says, "I don't want things to get awkward between us".

"But I don't want to forget it", you answer quickly, "It was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me".

Judging it by Franco's expression, he was also caught off guard by your words, probably because he thought this would change your relationship again and brung unwanted distance between you.

Truth was, you weren't going to run away anymore. You didn't want to, and you couldn't do it.

Yes, you were scared, but you knew you need to move on. The comfort zone can be very good, but no boat was made to stay at the dock and you needed to drop the anchor and launch yourself into the unknown. Besides, you know that, in a few years time, you won't like to look back and regret what you didn't do.

"Can I ask you the question back, then?", Franco tries and you nod, "Is what you feel for me just friendship? Or something more?".

"I don't have an answer as assertive and confident as yours, but I know that I look at you and I don't see you just as a friend. You are very special to me, Franco. You are the person I want to talk to about everything, the good and the bad. You are the person who I know will never judge me, who will always try to understand me and help me. After all, you were the first person I was able to trust one hundred percent", you admit, "and I'm still figuring out how I'm supposed to allow myself to believe in love again after everything that happened, but I really wish you were by my side on this journey... That you would make me believe in love again", you offered.

"I don't like to make promises, Y/N/N, but there's one thing I'm absolutely sure of - I'll do everything in my power to make you believe in love again", Franco says, pulling you into his lap and embracing you in a hug that makes you feel safer than ever.

.

When Franco called you and asked if you could join him in the park, you were quick to let him know you were leaving work and heading to meet him. The past two weeks had been crazy with him travelling to races and you visiting your family, so texting had become the way you found to maintain contact.

As soon as you spot him by the trees, you walk a little faster, hugging him as soon as you are able to, "can I say that I've missed you?", you joked.

"I missed you loads, so I think it's only fair you tell me", he smiled, "Hi, how was your day?", he asked as he squeezed you against him.

"I missed you", you spoke, "and it was good, better now that I'm here".

Lately, your walls had lowered progressively - Franco's reassurance and a constant defiance of your thoughts had helped you break down the worries you had. Olivia pointed it out, everyone noticed how much happier you were, and even Franco could sense you were feeling more comfortable.

You end up sitting so close to each other that your knees touch and you rest your arm on Franco's and let your head fall on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a few seconds and just inhaling his scent.

"I...", Franco begins but soon stops before saying anything else.

"What is it?", you ask, raising your head to look at him.

"Nothing, nevermind", he shrugs.

"I don't like it when people say that to me. If you were going to say something, don't tell me to forget about it", you state firmly, "Whatever you were going to say, you can say it. Always. I will never judge anything you tell me. I know you, okay, Franco?".

"Yes, but...", he sighs, "I think I'm missing the courage".

"Please, just say it!", you exclaim, starting to get anxious and worried about his hesitation, "Is it something serious? Is there a problem?".

"No, nothing like that!", he clarified.

"Okay, then...", you encouraged.

"It's about a conversation I had with my mother", he says and, although you don't say a word, your expression lets him know he can continue, "about you".

"About me?", you ask curiously.

"She doesn't know it's you, but... It was about us and about what I feel for you", he offers.

At these words, your heart suddenly accelerates, "she told me that life is supposed to be lived and that..", he gulps.

You remain silent, because you don't know if ot what your supposed to answer. There's nervousness and anxiety as you're not sure exactly where this conversation is going to end up at.

"We can't predict the future, we don't know how much time we have", Franco spoke, "what I mean by this is that I've been thinking that, many times, we waste time on things that, perhaps, don't make that much sense. And I think I've been wasting some time in the sense that I've wanted to do things calmly, I've wanted to respect your time and I think I'm the one who's been afraid of taking the next step. I'm too afraid of losing you, but I'm wasting time and we never know when it is too late".

Part of you knows where Franco is going with this, but the other one doesn't fully understand what he's trying to say.

You're nervous, your heart feels like it's beating out of control and there's a lump in your throat. Despite not crying often, you feel the tears right at the back of your eyes, ready to fall at any moment.

"I'm not particularly good with words, Y/N, but what I'm trying to tell you is that I'm madly in love with you. Damn, I'm trying to tell you that I love you. And I know you're scared and I'm scared, because there have been bad experiences, and because what we have is very special and neither of us wants to ruin it. But I think we're wasting time apart when we could make the most of this time together", Franco continues, "I believe we were very lucky to have found each other when we did. I think we had the perfect timing. And every time I look at you, all I can think about is how lucky I am to have found you. I love you, Y/N, and I want to be with you one hundred percent", the brown-haired man stops his speech as if to catch his breath, and then concludes, "That is if you want to be with me, obviously".

What can you say to someone who declares themselves to you in this way? What do you say to someone who has told you everything? How can you say something that comes even close to what you just heard?

"Did I misunderstand everything and after all you don't like me the same way, is that it?", Franco asks, "it's just, your texts and the way you talk, feels like you do".

The insecurity in his voice is the trigger you need for the words to simply come out of your mouth without having to think much about them, "No, it's nothing like that!", you exclaim, "It's just that it's hard for me to say anything after everything you said. I don't want you to doubt for even a second what I feel for you, Franco. I know I haven't been the best person to express my feelings, because when we say things out loud, they become real. And I was so afraid to admit the truth, so much so that I preferred not to say it. But you're right. Life changes in the blink of an eye and it doesn't make sense to keep leaving things unsaid or undone and wasting time. I'm in love with you, Franco. A part of me has wished, since the moment you made an effort for me, that I could have someone like that by my side, willing to protect me, take care of me and be there for me. I have no doubt that my life has changed for the better because you came into it. And I should have told you all this sooner, because you deserve to hear all this and much more. You are an extraordinary person and you deserve to be happy. And I want to be able to make you happy", you stop for a few seconds, taking a deep breath and gathering all the courage in the world to say the dreaded words out loud, "I love you and there is nothing I want more in this world than to be with you and be your girlfriend".

Despite all the nervousness you felt when expressing your feelings, the relief that follows leaves you feeling like a weight was lifted off your shoulder. Suddenly, you understand that fear paralyzes people and prevents them from moving forward.

The fear of not being enough for Franco, that he couldn't possibly have a girlfriend older than him and the fear that he would suffer from that was what was holding you back, stopping you from being happy. Now that you got that off your chest, that you said what you feel out loud, you realise you're ready to be happy again with someone else.

The smile that appears on Franco's lips makes your day. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you towards him, pressing your lips together.

You close your eyes and savour every second of the moment: from the way his hand is resting on your waist, while the other caresses your cheek, to the way his lips slide over your and your tongues touch.

When you break the kiss, needing to breathe, you keep your eyes closed for a fraction of a second, enjoying the sensation his lips left on yours.

"I have something to ask of you", you say, opening your eyes.

Franco's arm continues wrapped around you and you remain very close to him without moving, appreciating the closeness.

"Whatever you want", Franco says.

"Don't give up on me. Whenever I try to push you away, pull me to you. Whenever I yell at you because I'm angry, hug me. If I don't answer your texts or calls, look for me. When I feel too insecure, remind me that I'm the only one and how lucky I am to have you. If I'm giving up on us, kiss me and remind me why I shouldn't give up. And I know this is asking too much, but I know you love me enough to do this, to stay with me. I promise to do the same with you, to never give up", you declare.

"I promise, mi amor. I'll never give up on you, not even if you ask me to", Franco smiles as you cup his cheek, bringing your faces closer once again to kiss him.

[a-aexotic]

✫𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆, i can see you.

✫ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | fighting, swearing, tristan being an asshole, breaking things (not too graphic promise LOL) ✫ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | hey yall, i'm back! i hope everyone enjoys! also i tagged everyone who seemed interested, i'm sorry for the VERY late update. i'm back, mwahhh. also planning a nate archibald series, who'd be interested? lmk! ✫ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | @colbybrocks @weepingwitchofthewest @shady-writtingtalk @zulpix-blog @wheelerslover @dogmom600 @damnhati @remussbitch @yourmumstoyboy2-blog @1-800-starkindustrie

The front door opened suddenly and she whipped her head to make eye contact with... Tristan Dugray? Oh, so that's where she's heard that name!

Y/N couldn't control as her mouth flew open. She also couldn't control the words that came out of her mouth as she saw him. "Oh, you've gotta be shitting me."

After Y/N had locked eyes with Tristan she whipped her head to face her father. "You're engaged to Tristan's mother?!"

Her father and Kristan looked surprised — they both exchanged glances before they looked back at her. "Yeah, I guess I am?"

His answer sounded more like a question rather than a straight up reply. He didn't know why she was now seemingly opposed to the idea of him being engaged to Kristan simply because of Tristan.

Y/N looked shocked, her jaw practically on the floor. "You're engaged to Tristan's mother." Instead of a question, it sounds more like a statement.

Before any of them could reply, Tristan spoke. "Oh, hello step-sister." You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. He was enjoying see your shocked expression. Tristan's smug remark only fueled your growing frustration and utter disbelief. You shot him a glare that could freeze lava before turning back to her father and Kristan, your mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions.

"So, this is what you meant by wanting me to spend time with my old 'friends'?" Your tone was laced with sarcasm as she addressed her father. "You conveniently forgot to mention that my 'old friend' is now my soon-to-be stepbrother?"

Her father shifted uncomfortably under her accusing gaze, realizing he had failed to properly prepare Y/N for this bombshell. "I... I thought it would be best to tell you in person."

Your frustration mounted with each passing second. "Well you thought wrong, Dad."

Kristan interjected, her voice gentle yet firm. "I understand this is a lot to take in, Y/N. But we're all going to be a family now, and I hope we can find a way to make this work."

Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes at Kristan's attempt to diffuse the tension as she gave her a sarcastic smile. "Right, a family. How convenient."

Tristan leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed with a smirk still playing on his lips. "Well, this should be fun. Welcome to the family, stepsis."

Y/N resisted the urge to launch herself at him as she shot daggers with her eyes. "Don't call me that."

Kristan shot a glare at her son as she turned to you once again. "We didn't realize it would be such a shock to you,. We should have handled this better."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me. You knew you couldn't blame her father entirely, but the whole thing still felt like a betrayal. "I just need some time to process all of this," Y/N muttered, her voice tinged with resignation. "Excuse me."

"I thought that went great." Tristan mumbled as his mother shook his head, your father pulling her in closer.

You turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, leaving your father, Kristan, and Tristan as your retreated to her old bedroom, you couldn't shake the feeling that your carefully constructed world was crumbling around you, and you had no idea how to pick up the pieces.

You stepped out of the car, dramatically slamming the door as you took in the school: Chilton Prep School, where she would be going to school from now. She heard footsteps from behind her, she already knew who it was.

"Welcome home, Cromwell." Tristan's voice rang. You gritted her teeth at the sound of Tristan's voice behind you. You turned slowly, fixing him with a glare that could cut through steel.

"Save it, Dugray," you snapped, your tone dripping with disdain. "This is hardly my idea of home."

Tristan raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Well, get used to it. Looks like we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other from now on."

Tristan raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Feisty as ever, Cromwell. I'm just offering a friendly welcome to our new classmate, no need to get all... bitchy."

You narrowed your eyes at his remark, resisting the urge to roll them. "I'll take that as a compliment, Dugray. And I don't need your welcome. I know my way around just fine."

Tristan's smirk widened, clearly enjoying getting a rise out of you. "Oh, come on, Cromwell. Where's that famous New York charm? You're going to need it to survive in this stuffy place."

"I'll manage just fine without your help," you shot back, your voice dripping with determination. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than stand here and listen to your bullshit."

You turned away from Tristan, walking into Chilton. You already hated it, everyone looked so pretentious and elitist, just like Tristan. But you weren't going to let that intimidate you. You had faced down Manhattan's elite, and you could handle a bunch of snooty prep school kids. You had grown up with these kids, they couldn't be that hard.

As you made your way through the halls, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. The students eyed you with curiosity, whispers following in your wake. But you held your head high, refusing to let them see any hint of insecurity.

Chilton was a far cry from the bustling streets of Manhattan, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were in for a rough ride. But you were Y/N Cromwell, and you didn't back down from a challenge.

With a flick of your hair and a confident stride, you made your way to your first class, ready to show Chilton Prep that Y/N Cromwell was a force to be reckoned with.

"Where are you two going?" You popped a grape in your mouth as you watched Kristan grab her purse from the chair as your father tightened his tie.

"I told you earlier, we have a date."

You raised an eyebrow at your father's response, a hint of skepticism in your voice. "A date? You two are acting like lovesick teenagers."

Kristan chuckled, smoothing down her blouse as she shot you a warm smile. "Well, your father does know how to sweep a lady off her feet."

You rolled your eyes as Kristan and your father shared glances. You all knew what that meant, you had to be left alone with Tristan. You had barely managed to tolerate his presence since arriving at your father's house, and the thought of spending an evening alone with him was enough to make you want to crawl out of your skin.

"Well, have fun on your date," you forced out, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

With a quick goodbye, your father and Kristan headed out the door, leaving you alone, turning around and seeing Tristan in the spacious living room. He caught your gaze and his lips curved up into a smile.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as Tristan's gaze met yours, his smirk sending a wave of irritation coursing through you. You knew exactly what he was thinking – that he had you right where he wanted you, trapped in his company for the evening.

Suppressing a sigh, you turned away from Tristan, refusing to let him see how much he was getting under your skin. Instead, you busied yourself with anything that would distract you from his presence – flipping through a magazine, checking your phone, anything to avoid acknowledging him.

But no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, Tristan was a persistent presence in the room. You could feel his eyes on you, his smug smirk burning into the back of your skull.

Finally unable to take it anymore, you turned to face him with a glare. "What do you want, Tristan?" you snapped, your patience wearing thin.

Tristan's smirk widened, his gaze flickering with amusement. "Just enjoying the view, Cromwell," he replied casually, as if your irritation was nothing more than entertainment to him.

You let out a bitter laugh as you shook your head. "Real classy, Tristan."

Tristan's smirk only widened at your remark, his amusement evident in every line of his face. "Oh, come on, Cromwell," he said, his tone teasing. "You can't tell me you're not used to being the center of attention. You were in New York for five years and you're telling me you didn't have the boys throwing themselves at you?"

You narrowed your eyes at Tristan, refusing to let his words rattle you. "I don't need validation from boys like you," you retorted, your voice dripping with annoyance. "Unlike some people, I have more important things to focus on than relationships."

Tristan's smirk faltered slightly at your cutting remark, but he quickly regained his composure. "Touché, Cromwell," he replied, his tone laced with amusement. "But don't act like you're immune to a little attention. I've seen the way you strut around like you own the place."

"And you don't? Please, I see the way every girl at Chilton looks at you. And I know you well enough to see how much that strokes your already, inflated ego." You paused, your voice laced with sarcasm as you leveled a pointed gaze at Tristan. "But hey, who am I to judge? If you want to bask in the adoration of your fan club, be my guest."

"Oh, I will, Y/N." Tristan let out a laugh as he watched you get all heated. He continued you watch you as you scoffed, turning your head back to the magazine.

You could feel his eyes on you, his amusement practically palpable. But you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. You weren't about to let him see how much he was getting to you. With a determined flick of your wrist, you closed the magazine and stood up from the sofa, shooting Tristan a glare.

"I have better things to do than sit here and listen to you," you declared, your voice laced with determination. With that, you turned on your heel and marched out of the room, leaving Tristan behind with his smug smirk and his insufferable ego.

You refused to let him drag you down to his level – you had bigger things to focus on than his petty games, like actually getting back to Manhattan where you belonged.

As you walked away, Tristan's amusement turned to frustration. He wasn't used to someone challenging him like this, especially not someone like you. With a determined stride, he followed after you, catching up just as you reached the hallway.

As you stormed out of the room, Tristan's smirk faded into a scowl. He watched you go, frustration bubbling up inside him. How dare she walk away from him like that? Without a second thought, Tristan followed after you, his footsteps echoing in the hallway as he caught up to you just as you reached the foyer.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Tristan called out, his voice sharp with annoyance.

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him with a glare. "Away from you," you replied sharply, crossing your arms over your chest. "I can't stand being around you for another second."

Tristan's jaw clenched, his own temper flaring. "Oh, please," he scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Like you're any better. You're nothing but a spoiled brat who thinks she's better than everyone else."

The words hit you like a slap in the face, igniting a firestorm of rage within you. "At least I'm not a narcissistic asshole who gets off on belittling others," you spat, your voice rising with each word. "You think you're so much better but you're not."

Tristan squared his shoulders, meeting your gaze head-on. "I want to know what your problem is," he replied, his tone angry. "You've been acting like you a complete bitch when I'm all trying to do is be your friend."

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. "Oh, spare me the act, Tristan," you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "We both know that's not what you're after. You just want to play your little games and stroke your own ego."

Tristan's jaw clenched, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "And what about you, huh?" he retorted, his voice rising in anger. "You act like you're too good for everyone, like you're above it all. Well, let me tell you something, Y/N – you're not as special as you think you are."

"You know what, Tristan. I don't care about you or your stupid games because all I'm trying to do is get back to New York. All this shit is just a rock in the road," you spat as you turned around, walking away.

"Oh really? What about your obvious drinking problem, that's why your mom sent you away, right?"

You stopped in your track as you took in Tristan's words. Fury was etched across your features as you spun around to face him, your fists clenched at your sides. "How dare you," you seethed, your voice trembling with rage. "You stupid asshole!"

You pushed him as hard as you could, causing him to trip and fall into a table. You heard a loud shattering and both of you just stared at each other before looking down to see glass everywhere.

"Shit, that's my mom's vase." Tristan's eyes widened in shock as he glanced at the shattered remains of the vase on the floor.

Your chest heaved with anger as you glared at Tristan, your fists still clenched at your sides. "You deserved it," you spat, your voice thick with venom. "You had no right to say that."

"Y/N, this vase is like two grand. It was my mom's favorite vase," Tristan scoffed as he stared down at the ground. "She's gonna be fucking pissed, idiot."

You stared back at him with anger but you knew that you needed to figure something out. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you clenched your jaw and met Tristan's gaze head-on. "I know I messed up," you admitted begrudgingly, your voice tight with frustration. "You shouldn't have been a bitch."

"Well you shouldn't have pushed me, like an psycho." Tristan's voice was sharp, but there was a hint of surrender beneath his irritation. He knew that pointing fingers wouldn't solve anything, but he couldn't help but feel defensive in the face of your accusation.

"Well I'm not apologizing-"

"Y/N, we need to figure out what to do before they come home."

And right on cue, the front door opened, revealing your father and Kristan, who froze in shock at the sight of the shattered vase and the two of you standing next to it.

Your father's expression hardened as he took in the scene, his disappointment evident in his eyes. "What in the world happened here?" he demanded, his voice a mix of frustration and disbelief.

masterlist !

series masterlist !

[lemotmo]

I am confused by people on the daily but sending it to you because I loved her response. She has to be exhausted by her inbox 😭. I don't know how you all handle this.

Q. I need a few things explained to me. I will say upfront I am camp Tommy. The article did not seem pro Tommy and Buck to me, but plenty of my Tommy peers were thrilled with it, but so were Buddie fans so there is a disconnect in someone's interpretation. It was unnecessary for Tim to have brought up Eddie there. They weren't talking about Eddie, it was inappropriate. It doesn't matter that Lou and Oliver never did a chemistry test, they're fine together. Why do people care? Lastly Oliver clearly has an agenda. It would not have killed him to hold that picture of Ryan for another day. He could have let us have our confirmation that Tommy is indeed back and maybe shared a pic of him instead of Ryan. Lou can have BTS stuff too.

A. The article speaks for itself. It doesn't require interpretation. Tim mentioned Eddie because they're all part of the same storyline. Period. People can choose to ignore that fact if they want but it won't change the storyline. Eddie is the point. Eddie has been the point. That theme is carrying over into this season. Buck's relationship with Tommy is going to play some part in whatever Eddie's self discovery is going to be. Tim wouldn't have mentioned Eddie in relation to the pair otherwise. Someone can correct me if I'm wrong but I don't think TV shows do chemistry reads unless it's a long term thing. If it is just for a particular plot or storyline they will cast the actor that best fits the plot purpose. The chemistry is secondary to the overall plot so I'm not at all surprised that they didn't do a chemistry read. Their chemistry isn't the point. The storyline he was cast for is the point. In this case the plot purpose is Buck and Eddie. Eddie told Buck him being bi wouldn't change anything between the two of them when in reality everything is going to change. That is the point. Oliver's chemistry with Lou isn't relevant in any way.

I would not look too hard for him in any BTS. And I know you won't believe this but I think that is for your benefit. Why give you anything that may lead you to believe he's anything other than a plot point? They shouldn't include him. It's not realistic. And feeds into something that has already been taken way out of context. Lastly, Oliver does have an agenda. He always has. He always offers counter programming to the canon. It will not change unless the canon becomes Buddie. He has been this way from the beginning. And he doesn't owe anyone an apology for that.

Thank you so much Nonny. As always, much appreciated.

*sigh*

I really feel like everyone should just give Ali a break here. She has explained this over a 1000 times already. How many times does she need to repeat it?

I agree with all of this.

Also, that article was blunt and in your face. Tim brought up Eddie when talking about BT, which is something the show has done since day one by the way. Eddie has ALWAYS been involved in this storyline and he will continue to become even more important in this storyline, because the whole purpose of BT was always Buddie.

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[writefightandflightclub]

Ride or Die (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader): Chapter Four (of 11 - COMPLETED SERIES)

Series summary: Together, you and Santiago have been “soldiers” then “friends” then “lovers”; but will you ever figure out what comes next, especially when Santiago can’t (or won’t) stop running? 

Genre: a LOT of angst, some smut, best friends to… lovers?

Warnings: see collated series warnings, here. Please note this series is 18+. Minors or ageless blogs interacting will be blocked.

Series info: this is a COMPLETED SERIES. All chapters are written and queued. Posting schedule is here (includes series master list). 

Author’s note: Ooh I really hope you enjoy this one! As always, I would be super grateful for any comments / reblogs / asks you may wish to send my way. I so love to hear your feedback and chat more about this story! ILY :-*

Word count: 5.3k for this part. 

Tag list info: will reblog separately tagging those on taglist. You can request to be added to taglist if you are 18+. Send me an ask, please, so I can keep track :)

The rest of the evening passes in much the same way as the rest. You rejoin the group out front, Benny injecting some much needed fresh energy into the pack. He regales you all with tales of his most recent fights, delivers excruciating detail about his latest training regimen, and proudly shows off pictures of his new puppy. 

“Why am I looking at a picture of you, Miller,” Frankie jests as he holds up the screen to reveal an adorable golden retriever. 

If anyone notices that Santiago seems quieter than he had earlier in the night, they don’t say it. If they realise that you are engaging in very purposeful, overblown interest in Benny’s chat, it doesn’t get called out. There are a few exchanges between the two of you and Santiago that simulate old patterns. Lend weight to the pretence that things could even return to normal between you and him, given a little more time. 

Still, every time your eyes glance off of one another there is this intolerable heat, and you find you still can’t meet it head on. At times, your gaze is dropped hastily into the sand. At times, your eyes needle Frankie pointedly so that he might come to your aid, even if he does simply shrug and clasp the neck of his bottle a little more tightly. 

You know Santiago. And in a sense, contradictory as it may be, the hardest thing is how easy it would be to fall into your old patterns. Eventually, you begin to wonder if this tension and this awkwardness -this disconnect – is simply manufactured, in a way. Your heart’s tactic to keep him at arm’s length. A defence mechanism, because you ran away from a whole continent and yet you still fear ending up right back where you started if you can’t extricate yourself from him. 

At some stage, you tire of the beer-addled chat, and especially of Tom. Even more so of the effort of trying to make everything feel normal, whilst at the same time fearing what might happen if you could actually achieve that. What it would mean. You announce to the group that you’re going to take a long soak in the tub, and you head upstairs to the main bathroom, languishing in the sweet-scented bubbles, and attempting to wash the burdens of the day from your body, along with the gathered sweat and sand and smoke. Of course, you seem entirely unable to scrub this urge humming beneath your skin. 

When you eventually emerge there is a hush over the house, a cocooning darkness in the hallways – and you realise that at least some of the group must have retired to bed already. You’re tired, sure; but you’re still a little buzzed and not sure that you could sleep yet. You certainly don’t like the thought of staring at the ceiling, thinking about who might be lying awake too on the other side of your wall. 

“Hey. Cat. Everyone gone to bed?” you ask Frankie softly as you see him round the stairs to the landing in his socked feet, his footsteps purposefully softened. 

“Yeah, chiquita.”

“Already? Such old men,” you snicker gently. “What the hell happened?” 

Frankie’s subdued throaty chuckle cuts pleasantly through the dark. “It was a long drive,” he defends playfully; then, his tone shifts, an injection of caution evident. It puts you on edge. “Pope’s still out there though, if that helps.” Frankie must feel you bristle, as he raises his palms in the air in surrender. Or, more than likely, absolving himself of any responsibility. “Do with that what you want.” 

“Mmm-kay,” you say as nonchalantly as possible, and, from the sidelong glance Frankie throws at you, you know he isn’t buying it for a second. 

“You two okay? Something happen in the kitchen?” 

A flare ignites under your skin. You remember a different kitchen entirely. Not the one downstairs. Instead, you recall the hot, close air of the Colombian night. The flash of cool metal against your flushed skin as Santiago pressed you back and-

“-It was fine,” you lie tersely, and before Frankie can wheedle anything further out of you, you quickly hook your arm around his neck for a distracting, albeit halfhearted, goodnight hug. “’Night, Cat. Sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite.” With a grunt, he offers a quick, friendly kiss to your cheek, his scruff tickling up against you. 

“Yeah. G’night,” he returns, looking as tired as he probably feels. And, as you part ways in the hallway, Frankie watches with resigned interest at the fact you don’t similarly retreat to your room. That instead, you shuffle onward towards the mouth of the stairs. “Don’t let the Pope’s bite.” 

And then, with Frankie’s nonsensical and yet somehow apt warning ringing in your ears you head downstairs, meandering through the quiet house until you reach the exterior. 

You are arrested in the doorway at the thought of experiencing Santiago alone all over again, but at the same time, that is exactly the thought which propels your feet over the threshold and out into the balmy night air. 

You find him there, stretched out on his back in front of the dying embers of the fire, knees folded and pointed up to the sky. An orange glow is cast over the contours of his chest where his button-down shirt now falls completely open, the wire of his headphones snaking down and around his torso. He looks peaceful like this at first. Relaxed and loose, his chest rising and falling soporifically with his breath. His eyes are closed and he has his headphones in his ears, his fingers gently drumming and tapping where they rest against the softness of his bare stomach. Your eyes follow his happy trail, until the thatch of hair disappears beneath his shorts, now tugged tight over his thick thighs. 

You note the appealing cushioning around his middle forming rolls as he shifts marginally - to better prop his head up on a second cushion. He looks beautiful. Tranquil, at first glance. 

That is, until you see him tug in a huge breath, his ribs flaring with it. Until you watch him pinch the bridge of his nose before letting out a slow, sad exhale. 

You know in that moment that you should without a doubt turn around. That you should go right to bed, even if that does result in staring at the ceiling for hours with the image of his gorgeous body seared into your mind. But, you can’t do that. 

Instead, you already know exactly what you’re going to do. You’ve known since before you came downstairs. 

Truth be told, you’ve known since before you came to the beach house at all. You’ve known since your new fella asked you to be exclusive and you said “no”. You know, because you don’t know what’s good for you. 

“Santiago,” you say to announce yourself.  “Mind if I join you?” 

He pops a bud from his ear and opens his eyes. Somehow, he doesn’t even look surprised to see you standing there. 

He blinks at you wordlessly for a moment. He could say no, of course, but you know that he won’t. 

Because he doesn’t know what’s good for him either. 

He doesn’t respond to you at all in words. Instead, he rises, shifting to the corner of his tartan blanket, arranging himself cross-legged with a groan. He pats the opposite side invitingly, gesturing for you to join him. 

You hesitate. The setting, down on the sand on that measly square of wool, seems already far more intimate than the looming camp chairs had.

“Warmer down here,” Santiago encourages, as though reading your mind through how well he can read your body, evident tension snaking through your limbs. “Come and get comfy.” 

Okay. 

You hunker down, both legs folded to one side and your weight propped on the opposite arm. You take in the setting for a moment. The beach, shrouded in a blanket of dark. The sound of the waves shushing, and the gentle crackle of the fire. 

It would be calming, if the silence between the two of you wasn’t so taut. Still, you know Santiago will shortly reach to fill the silence. He always does. You don’t even have to wait all that long. 

“Good to see that Benny’s still… as Benny as ever.” 

“Yeah. Good to see some things never change.” You look at his lips. 

“His latest training regimen sounds pretty brutal, huh?“ 

“Uh huh.” Your eyes trail wantonly down his torso, and it’s not lost on you that he sucks his stomach in a little when your gaze drops to the soft rolls of him there. You’ve never seen a whiff of insecurity on the man before now. He’s confident as a rule - or so you thought. It’s appealing though, the softness of him. Sexy. You want to tell him that, but you don’t. Instead, you simply allow the soft smile to radiate over your face unfettered, your eyes warm and fond. 

“What are you listening to?” you nod down to his phone, headphones still strung from it and one bud remaining in his ear. Wordlessly, he passes you the spare bud and you slot it in, allowing the droning sounds to wash over you. Voices talking, and smatterings of financial and investment jargon. You quickly get the gist of it, and just as quickly relinquish the bud back to him. 

Your nose wrinkles. It’s not what you were expecting, honestly. “Financial podcasts?” 

He tilts his head to the side. Looks suddenly as old and mature and serious as you’ve ever seen him. “Gotta think about the future sometime, right?” He says it lightly, but even so, you are somewhat hurt by it. Hurt that he’s never managed to envisage any kind of future with you. 

“Right.” You nod, as neutrally as possible. 

He looks at your mouth. 

You note the brief fleet of pink tongue along the swell of his pillowy lower lip. 

You both let the silence hang there for a moment, full of possibility, and again, you know he will fill it. After all, you made it clear, right? You told him: don’t. Even if you want precisely what you asked him to deny you. “Did you see that documentary about the octopus on-”

“-I can’t get off anymore without thinking about you, Santi.” 

You interrupt him, and his jaw hangs slack for a moment, his eyes bugging out of his head as he fully registers your statement. Apparently, you don’t want to talk about Benny. Or podcasts. Or fucking octopi. You don’t want to fill the silence with meaningless chat. 

With Santiago, it had always meant something. You don’t want to stop that now. 

You let the words fall into his lap, and you aren’t even sure what reaction you were expecting. Therefore, you don’t even feel any particular type of way as you watch the multitude of emotions and stunted responses play out one by one across Santiago’s features. “Jesus, honey,” he eventually croaks. 

Then, his second-hand embarrassment finally jars you too. In a delayed flush of self-pity, you bury your face in your hands. “Fuck. How pathetic is that?” 

Santiago’s agape mouth finally closes then, a hard swallow bobbing down his corded neck. Your own self-deprecating laugh finally causes his face to split into a bemused and tentative grin. It is short-lived, however, his thick brows quickly drawing down. “You know. You’re giving me fucking whiplash over here, cariño.” 

“Shit. I know. I’m sorry. I just…” You tug your knees up to your chest for whatever comfort it can offer. “Honestly? I don’t want to talk about Benny, or whatever else. I love the guy but I… I missed you. I missed you and I just want us back. I want us to be okay, you know?” Santiago’s face twists in a mirror of your own, as if he doesn’t even know how possible that is anymore. “And, I don’t know how else to do that anymore – to make us okay - without… without that. I don’t know how to stop wanting you.” As you keep talking, your voice seems to break into a thousand pieces, as if sand in your throat is grinding it down, eroding the body and timbre of it away. “I try. I try, Santi, and it… I never…” 

Your name rises from his throat, and the sound is tired in his mouth. He knows what you’re asking him; and he doesn’t even seem surprised. “It’s a bad fucking idea.” 

“I know.” He’s not even wrong. “I know it is, but I… I don’t care anymore.” Emotion weighs down your tone. Makes it heavy. “It’s like a wound in me - the way we left it - and I just need…” Your eyes flicker and flit everywhere as you reach for the word, dancing around the scene, around his face, like the licking, greedy flames. 

You can’t find the word, the concept, the sentiment, but, as you search, Santiago’s voice filters through to you, certain and resigned. As though he understands perfectly what you crave after the wound that he left that night. “You need healing.” 

Your head whips towards him and you nod slowly, with conviction, searching his face for any sign that he might give it to you. For any sign that he might be able to repair you. He had hurt you, yes. But his fire was so hot that you think he is the only thing capable of cauterising the wound he left in his wake. The only one who can ignite you enough to heal you, as selfish and misguided as your desire may be. 

However, Santiago’s demeanour remains calm and cool even in the face of your desperation. You see only a vestige of desire dancing in his eyes now, as though all you had might truly be in the past. “You wanted out, remember?” he says thinly. With regret. He smiles even thinner than that. “No need to repeat your old mistakes, huh?” 

“I wanted out of that life, man. You were never a mistake.” 

“Heh. Don’t be so sure. If you know what’s good for you-“ 

Unconsciously, and with ill-timing, you shift on the mat in discomfort, rolling your spine to try and release some of the niggling, tight muscles – another old injury which continues to plague you long after the fact. 

“Still got that damn tweak?” Santiago asks, seemingly grateful for the diversion.  

You nod. “Mmm.” 

“Want my fingers?” 

You look into his eyes, mellow in the dancing light. How could you say no to that? “Please.”

“Come here then,” he encourages, shifting position to the edge of the porch step, his thighs spread wide apart and leaving space for you to settle on the sand before him. “Let me help you,” he insists, tipping up his chin, and his eyes softer and brighter again. 

You hesitate, but you can’t find it in you to decline the invitation. Can’t possibly find the strength to say no to his hands on you. To some relief, even in this form. “Turn around. Back to me, hermosa.” His voice is soft, so soft. Rough and undone around the edges like this frayed edge of land you perch on. 

You settle before him, and, just as he had promised, his fingers and his hands begin to inch over your body, on top of your clothes, seeking to unravel the knots. To bring you some relief. He used to do this for you all the time – always took care of you like this, and it’s bittersweet to recall a different, more innocent way his hands used to touch you. He would do this for you after training. After a mission. In the field. At the mouth of your tent when camped out in some desert or field or jungle. In the back of a Humvee on the way to the F.O.B.. At Benny’s fight nights when you’d had to sit in those shitty plastic chairs for too long. Whenever and wherever you needed it. 

His hands always knew how to fix you, long before you learned all the ways they could take you apart like a weapon in his palm. “Santiago,” you keen, as the pad of his thumb works into all your sweet spots. You don’t know what his name is in your mouth. A plea; a promise; a prayer; a poem. Perhaps all of these at once. 

“I know,” he soothes. “I know, cariño.” 

You close your eyes against the sudden tears you find threatening at the corners of your eyes. Knowing his touch again is everything you wanted, and, despite yourself, you are eminently glad it is happening like this. That he is giving, instead of devouring you, for if he did the latter, you don’t know that there would be anything left for him to take. 

His touch like this though, deft and tender, reveals that perhaps, there’s another way. That maybe, instead of burning you, Santiago could merely warm you. Maybe his flames only hurt because you had dared to get too close. Maybe you could simply learn to stay at arm’s length, where he had always attempted to keep you anyway. 

Still, that’s all very well, but… his touch - as it skims down your body - is enough to subsume you. It is a tide swallowing hot shores. It is a relief. A balm. Healing. 

“You’re so tight,” he complains gruffly, and you wonder if he is simply being careless, or whether his words were chosen ever so deliberately to remind you. To remind you of him praising you for that very same thing, under other circumstances. 

Regardless, Santiago shifts then, shuffling his hips closer towards you. His thighs -either side of your torso - boxing you in a little more tightly. Then, he braces one hand carefully against your shoulder, the other digging and kneading into your knotted muscles at the spot he always knew how to help you with. 

You moan for him, willingly, as he takes all your tension and melts it like butter. 

“Santiago,” you keen, and there it is again. A promise; a prayer; a poem. 

A plea. 

You hear him swallow thickly. Hear him exhale a sound like sea trapped in a seashell, his face dipped closer towards the shell of your ear in this new position. His breath continues to quicken as he manipulates your body, pliable under his sure hands, his warmth practically coiled around you like the fire around its fuel. 

“Do you want my fingers?” he repeats, voice now flecked with grit, even as he remains slow and languid, not whipped into any frenzy. “Tell me.” 

A stone plummets through your belly, sinking heat through your core at the mere suggestion he might touch you there too. 

“Mmmph,” you plead – a strangled affirmative wrung from your chest, and Santiago’s hand reaches around, calm and slow and tantalising. He winds his arms between your legs and his index finger trials along the seam of your shorts, up towards your clit like he’s following a carefully laid fuse line. Like he knows precisely how to detonate you, and all he needs is a spark. “You want my fingers here?” he purrs, and you moan his name, throwing your head back into the crook of his shoulder. “Want me to help you like this too?” 

You submit an unintelligible string of sounds to the air, which you hope he recognises as an affirmative. 

“Sssshhh,” he soothes, as his fingers deftly flick open the button of your shorts and you squirm in search of his friction. “It’s okay. I got you. I got you, cariño.” 

You sigh out a broken, guttural noise now, rolling your mound against his palm as his girthy fingers travel eagerly below the waistband of your clothing. Barrelling towards your want without dwelling on the implications even for a moment. On what this might mean. On what this may fix or further fracture. 

It is too much to think about that, and it is enough to know that you need some relief. 

Specifically, the kind of relief you have not been able to give yourself. The kind of relief you have not been able to find from elsewhere. The kind only Santiago knows how to give you. The only kind Santiago knows how to give you. 

“Fuck. You’re soaked,” he praises, all rusty-voice and practiced fingers, and with the ease that the thick pads of him glide through your folds you know it is true. “Holy shit, come here.” 

You would oblige if you were not so loose-limbed already; and so, in the next moment, Santiago is dragging you up towards him, settling your ass in the space before him on the porch step, so you sit a little higher. He is shucking your shorts and panties down and hooking your thighs over his parted, sturdy legs to spread you wide open. To give him better access to you so he can give you what you need. 

Your hands clamp down on his thighs like claws, your back flush against his chest and your head still languishing in the apex of his neck, feeling the steady rhythm in his shoulder as his arm reaches between your legs. With his other arm he simply gathers you up and holds you close to him, until the warmth of his skin seeps right through to yours. 

“Fuck! Santi,” you keen, voice ragged with need already as his fingers tease and circle where you need him. “More. Please, I need more.” 

He does not disappoint. He plunges a girthy finger into your heat, and the lack of resistance is telling, your cunt opened up and eager for him as the heel of his hand rocks a steady rhythm against your clit. He goes slower than you would like, but it turns out to be the exact pace you need -two fingers now- dragging molten heat through your core with each curl and pump and scissor he applies to your giving walls. 

“Ohhhh. Fuck!” 

“I know, baby. This is what you need, isn’t it? I know.” 

He does. He does know. He knows every damn inch of you and how to make you sing. 

“That’s it. I’ve got you. Don’t come, Princesa. Not yet.”

That’s easier said than done. Especially as his rough voice - all honey and grit - filters into the shell of your ear. As the fleck of his stubble rasps against your neck as he sucks an angry mark into your skin. Your core flutters in straight-out defiance of his orders then, and he feels you clamp down on him, tightening around his fingers. “Ah ah,” he scolds. “Hold on to it for me. Gonna get you there. Don’t worry. I got you.” 

Christ, you slosh around him as he makes you molten, and you feel his thighs begin to shake beneath yours. You feel his insistent hardness pressing at your back. “Fuck, princesa. I missed this pussy. Holy shit.” 

“Santi. I- I can’t hold on.” 

His thumb massages circles into your swollen, needy clit. 

“No, baby. Hold on for me. I know you can, huh? Don’t even think. Let me give you what you need.”

“Mmmphhh,” you moan out like a woman possessed as Santiago builds you up. 

He chuckles darkly into your neck, and smothers his spare palm over your mouth. “Shhhh. Quiet, hermosa. No-one else can take care of you like this, huh? I got you now.” 

The way he’s touching you, fingers speared inside your wet heat, is everything you’ve needed for so long. God, you’ve so needed him to help you like this. And now, he’s finally giving you relief. It’s welcome, and it’s good; but you still have enough about you, even in this state of becoming putty in his lap, to realise that he’s not giving you everything. You turn your head, tipping your lips wantonly up to him, but he won’t kiss you. His arousal presses insistently at your lower back but he isn’t making any move to get himself off. It seems obvious, even in this state of coming undone, that even as you lose yourself he won’t allow himself to get lost in you; not entirely. 

He’s navigated some extreme terrain in his time, but perhaps his feelings for you really are a jungle far too dense for him to navigate. 

Still, you certainly do not feel any lack, even if you get the sense he is holding back. It would be hard to feel any lack at all with his thick, warm fingers buried in you up to the knuckle, stroking and curling with precision against your swollen arousal, coaxing hoarse moans from your lips which he buries in the meat of his cupped palm. The pad of his thumb rubs haphazardly -almost roughly- in circles over your clit, puffy with need. Your thatch of hair is soaked, and your plumped folds are slick with your pearly, moonlit juices. 

“Holy fuck,” you rasp as Santiago’s  fingers draw a broad circle deep inside your walls, stretching you open and sending a delicious spiral of bliss through your core. He curls his fingers against your g spot, rocks his palm roughly against the mound of you, and God, it’s so good. You’re on the edge, but you still find you can’t quite let go. 

You don’t need him to give you everything, but you do need him to give you just a little more of what you’ve been craving. Just a little more healing. 

“Santiago,” you plead, tears of emotion and bliss and disbelief and sadness balling in your eyes. Relief at the fact you get to feel his touch again, and despair at how long you may next endure the lack of it. 

However, as though he senses what your body is telling him, that you are getting far too in your head by now to let go, you realise Santiago knows exactly what you need to get out of it. He always does. Always knows how to help you. “Mmpph,” you moan as he wraps his hand more tightly around your mouth and nose, playing with your air supply - just enough to provide a gentle thrill. To offer this simulation of a loss of control just long enough that you feel a secondary surge of adrenalin and arousal building within you. You gasp as he releases his palm and you suck his fingers easily into your mouth, wanting to feel full of him wherever you can. He obliges by shoving them deeper, over your tongue. 

“That’s it,” he praises, soothes, encourages, feeling it coming before you do, reading the signs in your body. Almost immediately, pleasure blooms out from your middle, completely engulfing you. 

You screw your eyes shut tight and you can barely even focus on his fingers pulsing in and out of your wet, suckering heat, or on this string in the middle of you being drawn so tight it’s about to snap. Instead you focus on him. On the warmth and sturdy form of him at your back. On the way he knows just how to touch you – where, and when, and how. The way he soothes you and relieves you. The familiar scratch of his stubble against your cheek. The soft, sweat-tacky rolls of his bare stomach cushioning your back, skin-on-skin where your t-shirt has ridden up your back. His meaty thighs. The familiar press of that hard promise up against you. But most of all his warm, sandy voice, slipping into the shell of your ear like the sounds and shushing of the sea. 

Hermosa. Cariño. Princesa. 

His words melting out of you like liquid pearls and making you shine. 

He praises you, and the sounds of him slip inside you just like his fingers, a smooth glide like the surge of the tide devouring an aching shore. His touch relieves the ache, the burn, the fire, the hurt, as you find your release. You gush over his hand, your mouth open with a hoarse, hollow moan, silently echoing the roar of the sea as your whole body becomes liquid on top of his. 

He holds you, and he works you through it, tears squeezed from your eyes with each wave of bursting, engulfing pleasure which radiates through your core – not blistering like the heat of your fire, but gentle and soothing. 

Your breath is ragged now. You have the feel of a tide between your legs.

You are sated, and yet you want more of him. You may feel healed in some ways, but your whole body still sings for him like a wound. 

He stays inside of you. Feels you for a moment, with a shuddered, satisfied moan you feel vibrate against your back before he draws his fingers out, painfully slow. You shudder too, your core still fluttering for him, and you would reach for him if you weren’t still boneless. Would seek to satisfy him too. 

“Fuck. I missed your fingers,” you purr. 

“Uh huh,” Santiago says, a little too morosely for your liking, and he unslots himself far too quickly from around your form. Far too quickly he comes to standing, leaving you feeling cold and alone on the porch stairs, shorts shunted down past your knees, exposing you to the night air. 

“Don’t you want… something for you?” you ask in confusion, in hope, eyeing the bulge tenting at his crotch and the way his hand is hung curled at his side, his fingers still shined from you. You enjoy all of that, but you certainly don’t enjoy the heaviness bedding down on his brow, and you reach to pull up your shorts as quickly as you can, the moment of relief fast-retreating, like the deceptive tide. 

“No,” he says firmly. “That was just for you.” 

You bristle at the implication in his words, your momentary bliss falling quickly away. 

He did you a favour. 

You were the one undone by your desire – your want. Not him. You were the needy one who couldn’t be without him. Couldn’t even get off without him. And damn. Here he is, slow and controlled and, for the better part, seemingly unaffected.

You know that’s not wholly true – that he does still want you, but your eyes still swim when you wonder if his desire is subdued compared to what it used to be. If it has lessened. 

Don’t you cause this frenzy in him anymore? This quickening, like he does with you? Is the flame burning in your chest -or your loins- not catching, any longer? Like the dying embers of this fire, is it almost out? 

Could there truly be an end to this? 

Soldiers. Friends. Lovers. 

What next? 

You had, at least, assumed something would be next. 

And so, as you regard him, stoic and impassive, you can barely even look at him. “You’re right, Pope. This was probably a bad fucking idea.” 

Of course it was. 

You should know better than to think you can take a piece of him without wanting to devour the whole. After all, you could never see him in fragments – only all at once. 

Had that always been your mistake, thinking that he could ever give himself over to you completely? He’s far too afraid of getting lost, even if he does hold the map to your heart in the palm of his hand. Strange then, because the palm of his hand is also where he has become so accustomed to yielding a weapon. Maybe for him, love and pain were always destined to feel the same.

You push past him, and you feel a pit open up in your middle. 

“Goodnight, buddy,” you say, your tone surprisingly sour so soon after that. “Thanks a bunch for the fingerfuck.” 

You guess the mindfuck came along for free.

You don’t want to hurt him. Don’t want to be bitter and to deepen this gulf between you all over again. But, apparently, you just can’t help yourself. 

You don’t know what’s good for you. 

[djljpanda]

Hi just discovered your tumblr and thought I'd say hi and that it's nice to meet you and...idk if you're new or not to the cookie run x reader part of tumblr but if you are then, welcome and glad to see a new writer here! Anyway I saw some of your hcs and wanted to input an idea of mine since your ideas seem cool!

https://www.tumblr.com/djljpanda/729009881234948096/in-crk-one-of-black-lemonades-lines-when-you?source=share

Can't help but see this and can't help but think but imagine:

What if mc saw this ask and next time they play cookie run kingdom...they jokingly explain to the cookies of the kingdom about how they are just a normal person playing a video game and that if they did get transfered into their world, they'd be completely powerless and unable to do anything (unless they not only play cookie run but also exercised regularly and trained in strength, speed, flexibility or stamina then they might mention a boost in one of those categories).....and doesn't realize that the cookies could actually HEAR them!

Just imagine...cookies who want mc to themselves to snuggle or romance or something would hear this and think "wait I thought they were a powerful god...but they are just a normal person playing some video game and don't have any powers while everyone in the cookie world, including me (aka cookie who is thinking this), so...oh my god! Capturing and keeping mc is going to be WAY easier than I thought!"

Aaaand when mc ends up in the world...the cookies are helping mc with getting used to their body, with the full knowledge that they have zero powers soooo they either have to protect mc oooor this is their chance to keep mc for themselves lol!

I'm happy to see that you enjoy the idea of sharing here. I have been playing Crk since 2020 and have been a fan and I have followed the tag and I did really enjoy the self aware crk and was always Happ to read fanfiction and theories but it seems now all the writers have moved on which I don't blame them for. Thank you for the Welcome and Welcome to my blog.

But maybe not all the cookies can hear you at once but maybe one cookie can and everyone thinks their insane cause only witches are really right?

But I think that would be the reason why they would grow attached to you maybe or maybe not get romantic feelings for you or just seeing you as their best friend.

But they were both shocked at your words of calling yourself regular and upset because to that one cookie you are their everything.

But at some point all the cookies were able to hear you and you have like a cult following with that one cookie of your choice being like the leader.

When you do end up in Earthbread you almost got cookienapped right off the bat only for a cookie part of the following to save you.

That following of yours will make sure you are okay and devote themselves to you and if that cookie is your love interest they would ask to be your right hand cookie, while their cheeks are burning.

But if you want to have the normal isekai route at first you are protected by these cookies and soon you have powers and become a godly being but something happened that made you disappear but really you just turned invisible like how jack frost was in the rise of the guardians movie. And you are trying to handle that while you find out that your world and Earthbread are merging, the rest and small details can be saved for like fanfiction that I'm still trying to figure out on.

[shurisneakers]

a writing challenge? in 2024? you bet

Hi! Hello! Hey!

I've been going through A Time and have chosen to cope by going back to the specific vibes of 2016 to 2018. That happens to include an incredible resurgence in my love for MCU fanfic, the community around it and all the love that goes into them. I've felt a bit distant from here for a while, but I still see so many of my old friends writing, ones who want to get back into it, and a whole lot of new writers I am dying to meet.

I've floated this idea vaguely on my blog and people seem to be interested so I figured it was worth a shot!

So yeah, welcome to Ari's Old School, Nostalgia Jam, Why-The-Hell-Not MCU Fic Writing Challenge 2024!

Prompts, rules and whatnot under the cut:

Requests:

If you could reblog this post to reach someone who might want to participate, I'd really appreciate it! No need to be following me, it's open for anyone.

Reader-inserts, OCs, solo character fics, character x character-- absolutely no limitations

Any and all MCU characters are allowed

Anything above 500 words should have a read-more/keep-reading tab. Series, multi-chapters, one-shots, drabbles, etc etc. The sky's the limit.

Please tag me in your fics (@shurisneakers) so I'm notified of them, and post them with the tag #arisoldschoolwritingchallenge . It may take me a while to get back to you due to the circumstances I find myself in currently, but I absolutely will. Please send me a DM if I haven't responded within 10 days.

Send me an ask with the prompt you would like. Feel free to pick up to 2 prompts

The only thing I request of you: no RPF and no dark fics. Smut is welcome, but non-con/dub-con/incest or anything along those veins is something I'd ask you not to submit for this challenge. Thank you for your understanding!

I know I've called it an MCU fic challenge as it's the community I've grown with, but if you feel like any of these prompts resonates with a character from another fandom, please go ahead and write it. This challenge really is just about the fun of writing fanfic and love for Your Little Guys

No submission cut-off date. Take all the time you need.

Prompts

I've tried to have a mix of classics and uncommon tropes/dynamics, so I hope everyone finds something they connect with!

Relationship Prompts

1. Enemies (taken by @theysaywhatasadsight)

2. Best friends/childhood friends

3. Coworkers (taken by @jaaneymann)

4. Internet friends

5. Neighbours/roommates (taken by @angrythingstarlight)

6. Fake dating (taken by @hungryforpowernotfood)

7. Commuters

Alternate Universe Prompts

1. Florist AU (taken by @hungryforpowernotfood)

2. Showmance AU (taken by @bombsonboard)

3. Social media/streaming/gaming AU (taken by @splintered-emotions)

4. Thieves/Heist Group AU

5. Time travel AU

6. Pirates AU

7. College AU (taken by @lovelybarnes)

8. Apocalypses/dystopia AU (taken by @targaryenvampireslayer)

9. Chef AU

10. Roadtrips AU

Some rarer miscellaneous ones for those who are so inclined!

1. Shipwrecked together on an island

2. Meet Ugly (opposite of Meet Cutes) (taken by @barnesandco

3. Both of you are ghosts but don't know the other is

4. Treasure hunters AU

5. Faking death

6. Professional cuddlers AU

7. Time loops/Groundhog Day (taken by @sxrensxngwrites)

8. Orpheus and Eurydice

9. Villain x hero

10. Hitchhiking

11. Carnival of Horrors

12. Robin Hood

13. Matchmakers AU

14. Insomniac x narcoleptic

15. Intergalactic Coffee Shop AU

16. Doomed By The Narrative

17. Enemies to Lovers to Enemies

18. Subversion of Classic Hallmark Movie Tropes

Dialogue prompts

You can tweak them as per requirements, but be sure to keep the underlying message!

Angst

1. "I should have trusted myself. I should have stayed far away from you." (taken by @waywardcrow)

2. "Has it occurred to you that how I feel matters too?" (taken by @jaaneymann)

3. "We failed. I would do it again."

4. "You do not deserve my forgiveness."

5. "You make me feel so alone." (taken by @reidishh)

6. "I'm not giving up on us." "I did. You should too." (taken by @targaryenvampireslayer)

Crack

1. "Ohhh, you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid." (taken by @pinkthick)

2. "I think you and I make the worst choices together." "Yeah, but it's always entertaining."

3. "I trusted you." "Terrible decision, really."

4. "I know I'm smiling but I want to push you off a very big cliff." (taken by @pepperonijem)

5. "I'm hilarious." "You're traumatised."

Fluff

1. "This is the only thing I look forward to everyday." (Taken by @bombsonboard)

2. "I think we should do that again. For the sake of the world and my sanity."

3. "You're all I think about." (taken by @waywardcrow)

4. "Don't go anywhere I can't follow." (taken by @iguess-theyre-mymess)

5. "Don't smile at me like that." "Like what?" "Like that." (Taken by @lovelybarnes)

Word Prompts:

Flesh

Strawberry

Bruised (taken by @juvenilearson)

Groovy

Jump

Sunflower (taken by @barnesandco)

Alchemist

Wayward

Offerings

Mischief (taken by @supraveng)

I hope you'll join in! Please do tag anyone you think would be interested, I'd love for this to have as wide an audience as possible.

Lots of love <3

-Ari

[ladykailitha]

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames or specific AUs your WIPs; not titles, filenames (eg werewolf AU, unnamed mafia omegaverse, or Steve's Rizz vs Eddie's Zero Filter.)

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write at least 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

PLEASE LOOK AT THE LIST BEFORE SENDING IN ASKS, STORIES HAVE BEEN COMPLETED!

My only problem is that I tend to file name what the title is so I can find it easier, so...here’s what they were called before I titled them.

“File” Names

Dragon Slayer

Himbo Witch

Sugar!Baby Steve

Nanny

Snippet

It was inevitable that Max would come to him for his help. Her request made him chuckle though.

“I just want something to mellow their mood,” she huffed. “I’m not looking for a charm or whatever. I just need them to chill out so that I’m not walking on eggshells all the time.”

“Of course,” Steve said in all seriousness. “I’ll brew you up a tea that you can give everyone and it will improve the mood all around.”

She sighed in relief. “Thank goodness, I would hate to have to stop coming here. It’s my safe space.”

Steve chuckled and got to work. Max watched in interest as he mixed both dry and fresh in equal measure and then set it to side to completely dry out. Then he started on something else. And even though she could see him clearly, his movements seemed covered in a kind of fog.

It's that great and wonderful time of the week again! WIP Wednesday!

The game runs from 8am-11pm EST.

Send in as many asks as you want as often as you want.

@zerokrox-blog @forgottenkanji @w1ll0wtr33 @thesecondfate @dreamercec

@beelze-the-bubkiss @bookworm0690 @kultiras @niniel-karenine

[unboundndd]

Hi hi, It's rare to see people writing about Yone around here, so... Could I ask for a Yandere!Yone x reader in a modern AU? pwp

And thanks for everything (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

Have a nice day <3

- 🍄

I am all about yone on this blog… esp since he’s the only AD character i know how to play and he has a special place in my heart! Thank you so much for requesting~

//tag: stalking, obsessive-protective Yone, some nsfw later on, yone is good at disguising himself as a normal person.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· Lately it seems like the only news being broadcasted on the local channels are of the various attacks and robberies towards people who are just going out and about. At first this doesn’t really alarm you, thinking that it could never happen in your neighborhood, yet as your day goes on the thought sticks in your mind. You’re not that athletic and probably weaker than your average attacker, plus you live alone so if someone were to possibly follow you home they could hurt you or worse!

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· While sitting in a café with one of your friends the topic comes up again, they’ve always been scared of something like this happening to them and next thing you know it’s a few days later and they’re dragging you to a small building on the other side of your town. When they finally open the door you realize it’s some kind of martial arts center with a small gym inside, your friend explains that apart from teaching disciplines from all over the world they also offer beginner friendly self defense classes. What immediately catches your eye is the fact that in one corner of the building there’s a smaller group of people practicing their stances with bamboo swords, all being lead by a dark haired man, his features partially covered by it. His tall figure makes the movements look so elegant and you wonder how much it had taken for him to master such an art.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· “I’m surprised to see that there’s places that teach Kendo around here.” You tell your friend who lets out a small laugh in response. “ I know right! Yone, the instructor, started working here pretty recently and told us he started Kendo because his middle school offered it as an after school activity!” You smile at how your friend gushes about the man like you’re both in high school and talking about your crushes. You can’t help but admit that he looks very handsome, jet black hair kept up by a crimson red hair tie with just a few strands framing his sharp featues.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· It takes a while but after a few months you see yourself improving and you feel more at home inside the gym. Since becoming friends with some of the Kendo students you watch their matches during the break of your own lessons, you tried to talk to Yone as well but his replies were always brief and somewhat evasive. It was a shame since you really wanted to know him better but alas you respected him not being interested in socializing with you and moved on.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· You would have been shocked to know that he actually did want to talk to you. His brain would freeze upon hearing your voice say his name, a flurry of emotions overwhelming him. You didn’t know that the dusting of pink on his pale cheeks wasn’t from overexertion just as you didn’t know that your every move was being observed by him, both inside and outside of the center. At first Yone didn't understand what was going on with him, It’s like you awakened something new inside him: He was in utter love with your looks, the kind way you treated your friends and how supportive you were to everyone. Even the way you’d cutely stumble when trying to land a punch had his heart swell and he loved the fact that you wouldn’t give up on something despite not being a natural at it. He wanted to protect you, be the one you’d run to whenever there was danger.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· Thanks to the countless hours researching on the internet Yone finally finds out what was wrong with him, turns out that in all of the years he had spent living he had never really felt love and attraction to someone until you came around. He also finds out that a minority of people feel obsessed with the object of their affection, those people would usually hide their condition and live normal, quiet lives yet express their desires and seek support on anonymous forums and sometimes meet in real life. It is hard to accept at first, Yone sees how sick some of the people in the forums are, he considers himself a monster and that he should isolate himself from society to keep you safe.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· One day help comes up in the form of a reply on a post Yone made, it's the thing that Yone had failed to consider when first researching his obsessive tendencies. Anon says: "In your previous posts you mentioned they seem interested in you and try to talk to you, no? I take this as a good sign. Even though you are this way in a relationship you can compromise with them, many people don't even know they have partners with these tendencies and they get to live happy and fullfilling relationships."

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· Eventually the martial arts center decides to organize a new year’s eve dinner party for the members and everyone is going to attend. The convivial atmosphere is nice but after counting down until midnight your social batteries are a bit drained, the party goes on as you make your way to a corner with an empty couch and after a few minutes you feel the cushion next to you shift as a taller figure sits next to you. You start talking about something trivial, just to fill the weirdly tense silence between the two of you yet after a while your conversation diverts towards hobbies, movies and so on. Oddly enough you and Yone seem to have very similar tastes in many things, down to what you like to cook when you feel sick. After a while the only thing your brain can seem to focus is his smooth voice telling you stories from his childhood back in his hometown, things about his brother and the turbulent relationship they have and funny things that happened in his teens.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· You loose track of time as you sit there, Yone only noticing what time it was after he caught you stifling a yawn. “Apologies, I tend to ramble a bit when talking about these things. It wasn’t my intention to bore you.” He says, cheeks flushed just like when he was exercising back in the center. “Oh, you aren’t boring me at all! I’m actually very interested but your voice is also very relaxing!” You reply while your eyes shoot open, mentally beating yourself up for ruining the moment between the two of you. “My… you are flattering me tonight. It’s getting very late though, do you have a way to get home safely?” Yone asks, a sly grin on his face because of your compliment, you truly have no idea of how much your words can affect him.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· You look around only to find your friend sleeping soundly on a pillow that was haistily thrown on the floor next to some other people they are friends with, you know they would be unable to drive even if you woke them up. Thankfully Yone is right there for you, gently helping you put your coat back on and leading you away from the party towards his car with a hand on your shoulder. You have no idea how he knows the way to your house this well, even taking the shortcuts you usually take. Yone's hand that is idly stroking yours is a good enough distraction not to think about it though, he's so gentle when touching you and very much unlike to the self defense demonstrations he sometimes does with your instructor.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· It takes Yone more than five minutes to realize that you hugged him goodbye after he got you safely to your door, your body was so soft against the fabric of his turtleneck sweater and he finally got to feel your silky hair against his fingers. The night is far from over for him though, like usual he makes his way onto one of his many spots and sits down to watch you from one of your windows as you finish your night routine and get ready to sleep. To him being able to watch you this closely is very therapeutic, as you go about your day he likes to imagine himself living alongside you in a pretty house far away from everyone and everything. This time he can’t stop the images in his head from getting more vivid and he thinks that he truly has an opportunity to court you right and be the best partner for you.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· When he'll eventually ask you out you can't help but feel almost drowned in his affections and sweet words: he tells you for how long he has been waiting for this moment, that he will keep you safe from everything that scares you and that you'll never have to worry about anything when you're with him. You don't really notice it but Yone's presence is always looming behind you: you're almost always seen together and when you're not you make sure to always update on where you're going, you ask for his opinions on outfits and sometimes let him choose them for you. You seek for his approval and praise, his quiet smiles as you follow him around town when making errands always make you smile. Sure it might look overwhelming to some but it's something you're unconsciously appreciating, especially when he's basically your dream boyfriend and always talks you out of things that might be too "dangerous" for you. You're really lucky to have him to keep you safe, and even luckier because it looks like he has no intentions of ever leaving you.

NSFW AHEAD:

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· Since he’s very good at covering up him being a yandere, Yone also knows how to hide what his deepest fantasies are. After a while of dating you decide to try and ask him if there's anything more unorthodox he'd like to try in bed but the topic seems to fluster him, leaving him looking down and you apologizing profusely to him. You notice how every time you sleep together he seems to hold back and you want him to enjoy himself too but you also know that you can't force someone to open up about certain topics.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· For a while you’ve only seen one side of Yone: an attentive service top who on occasion will tease yet never doing anything that could be remotely uncomfortable to you. The way he memorizes your sweet spots is inhuman and he’ll always put your pleasure first and foremost. He also lives for your praise and will nuzzle his head in the crook of your neck to hide his rampant blush, it’s an instant boost of serotonin for him to hear that it's him who is making you feel this good. He also likes to praise you and the closer he is to finishing the more it transforms into a flowery ramble about how good and beautiful you are.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· He finally opens up to his more perverse side and you can’t help but be fascinated by it: he’s all about marking, claiming you in as many ways as he can so you’ll have visible love bites peeking from the neckline of your shirts and bruises on your hips because of how hard he can grip. Despite his hands being long and elegant they also are extremely strong, he likes to remind you he’s in control by forcing you to look at him in the eyes while you’re oh so close.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· Enjoys the amount of control that you give to him as well, when you first allowed him to tie your hands behind your back he was just so happy he was the only one who you’d ever allow to do this to you. Even though he gets a bit carried away and manhandles your body into certain positions he’ll still check in with you and stop instantly if he sees that you’re not enjoying it anymore. He loves it when you tell him you're his, that he's the only one who can see you like this and it will definitely turn him on more than he already is.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· Also encourages you to grip on his biceps or shoulders when things get more intense, the scratch marks on his skin are a token to the fact that he belongs to you, just like you belong to him. So any of the scars you leave are a trophy for him and he’ll proudly take his shirt off when he trains. (and then people will stare at you funny because at this point everyone knows you're dating)

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· The scar on his face is a bit of a sensitive topic, but after a while of being in a relationship with you he’ll let you touch it and kiss it. There’s many tender moments where you gently stroke his face in the middle of sex and he will melt internally whenever it happens, he’s never felt so cared for and understood before being with you and this only makes him more obsessed with you.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· You’ll be always treated like royalty, Yone tends to be up and about right after finishing so he’ll bring you whatever you need to rest. Unless you want cuddles as aftercare, if that’s the case he’ll hold you close to his chest because he learned pretty quickly how much it relaxes you, if you fall asleep you'll find yourself neatly tucked into your shared bed and if he has to go somewhere the next day he'll make sure to leave you some water and snacks on the bedside table for when you wake up.

[urlocalmultigroupfan]

without you (pt.7)

pairing: lee felix x female reader

summary: you have been best friends with the 00 liners+chan for a while now. now everyone is in college and when you begin to develop feelings, its getting hard to choose...

tags/warnings: college skz, liking multiple people at a time, fluff, angst, reader struggles with anxiety and depression, cussing, partially proofread

a/n: guys... giant is like so good lmao btw if you guys want me to i can end the series soon... just tell me in the comments since its already part 7! check my blog for my posting scheduleee

It was supposed to be a quick stop for coffee, just enough to keep you going through the afternoon study grind. You hadn’t planned on running into anyone, and yet, as soon as you stepped into the coffee shop, the unexpected happened.

You were standing in line, scrolling through your phone, trying to catch up on emails and assignments. The usual noise of the coffee shop—a mixture of clinking cups, soft chatter, and the low hum of the espresso machine—was a bit overwhelming, but it was background noise you were used to. Until, that is, a voice cut through it all.

"Are you seriously going to just stand there and stare at me instead of ordering?"

You blinked, startled, and looked up to find a guy grinning at you from the counter. He had messy hair and sharp eyes that twinkled with mischief, and his teasing tone made it clear he wasn’t being serious, but you couldn’t help feeling a little caught off guard.

"Uh… excuse me?" You blinked again, wondering if he was talking to you.

The guy’s grin grew wider, his gaze playful. "Yeah, you. You’ve been in line long enough, and you’re just staring at your phone like it's the most interesting thing in the world. You gonna order, or…?"

You paused for a second, unsure how to react to his sudden boldness. Then, realizing he wasn’t actually trying to be rude, just teasing, you cracked a smile.

"I wasn’t staring at you. I was just… busy," you said, your voice a bit awkward but trying to match his teasing energy.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Sure, sure. I’m Minho. You’re not a regular here, are you?"

You shook your head, finally offering your hand in greeting. "No, I’m not. I’m Y/N. First time in this coffee shop."

Minho took your hand, his grip firm but friendly. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. You’ll like it here. The iced lattes are top tier. If you’re still deciding, I recommend it."

You smiled, grateful for the suggestion. "I’ll definitely try it, then."

Before you could say anything else, a voice called out from behind you, smooth and calm, but with a teasing undertone that matched Minho’s.

"Minho, don’t scare the poor girl. You’ve been giving her a hard time long enough."

You turned to find another guy stepping up beside you, looking around your age with dark hair styled neatly, his expression a mix of amusement and mild exasperation. His smile was warm, and there was a kind energy about him that immediately put you at ease.

"I’m Jeongin," the guy said with a small but genuine grin. "You’re Y/N, right? Minho’s been giving you the freshman treatment."

Minho let out an exaggerated sigh, clearly not offended. "Hey, it’s all in good fun. Don’t worry about it. Besides, I had to make sure she wasn’t just another robot student walking around with their face buried in their phone."

You laughed, shaking your head at Minho’s antics, but before you could respond, a third person entered the scene. He was shorter than both Minho and Jeongin, but his presence was immediately noticeable—there was something calm and steady about him. His eyes scanned the room, briefly meeting yours, before he made his way over to the counter.

"Yo, Changbin! Over here!" Minho called, waving at the newcomer.

Changbin smiled at Minho, but then looked back at you with a friendly, easygoing grin that felt like an invitation to join the group. You noticed how his expression seemed genuine, his confidence quiet yet reassuring.

"Hey," he greeted, offering you a soft smile. "I’m Changbin."

"Hi," you replied, a little surprised by the smooth transition into meeting so many people at once. "I’m Y/N. Nice to meet all of you."

Changbin gave you a casual nod, his eyes warm but not overwhelming. "Nice to meet you too. How’s your first day been so far?"

You sighed, relieved to be talking to someone who felt a little more grounded than Minho’s playful teasing. "It’s been a bit of a whirlwind, honestly. I’m still adjusting to everything."

Jeongin, who had been watching you both, nodded in sympathy. "Yeah, freshman year can feel like a lot all at once. But don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it."

Minho, always quick to jump in, added, "It’s a lot of fun, too, though. Once you find your rhythm, it’s a good time. Just gotta survive the first few weeks of chaos."

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at all three of them. "You guys seem to know what you’re doing. Are you all upperclassmen?"

They all laughed, and Minho threw his hands up in mock exasperation. "Please, we’re freshmen just like you. We’re all in the same boat—trying to figure things out and keep up with the workload. But, we’ve learned a few tricks along the way."

Changbin smiled, more subdued but still approachable. "Yeah, we’re all just trying to survive. But it’s a little easier when you’ve got people to study with. Maybe we can help each other out."

Jeongin’s eyes sparkled with the familiar energy of someone who’d already claimed a piece of the university. "Exactly. We’ll probably end up in a study session later anyway, so if you ever need help—or just want to hang out—let us know. We don’t bite."

You couldn’t help but laugh. "I’ll take you up on that. I’ve got a lot to catch up on."

Minho grinned, nodding approvingly. "That’s the spirit. Also, we study better with pizza. It’s an unspoken rule."

Changbin chuckled softly. "Don’t listen to him. We mostly just end up eating pizza and talking nonsense. But it’s fun."

You smiled, feeling a little more at ease with each passing second. These three guys, despite the fact that they were freshmen just like you, had a way of making the whole process seem a little less intimidating.

As you finally placed your order and the group continued to chat, you realized something—maybe this whole "university experience" wasn’t so bad. Sure, it was overwhelming, but with people like Minho, Jeongin, and Changbin around, it didn’t feel quite so impossible.

And maybe, just maybe, the freshman year chaos wouldn’t be so bad with a little bit of pizza and good company along the way.

please do not reblog without permission!

[pocket-watcher]

I remember that somewhere at the beginning of your blog there was a story about a magician with a card trick. And there was information in the tags that the magician would show a trick with a pocket watch next time. So the question is: when will we see it? I know that this is a typical trope, but I would be interested if a magician caught the same person over and over again in order to show him a variety of tricks, each time binding him more and more tightly to himself...

Okay I was kinda joking about that HOWEVER if the Watchlings want a follow-up, who am I to deny the people??

This takes place directly after this post!! I guess it’s a part 1 now?

She awoke, still sitting in the casino. The noise of the people, the slot machines, it all seem to come back to her at once.

She was dizzy. Her thoughts felt unfocused, still.

The whole room tilted back from its axis, straightening up again. Coming back to reality.

Remembering what had happened, the magician, her head darted around to find him. No luck. Damn casinos and their lack of windows, how the hell could she tell what time it was?

She checked she wasn’t robbed first. Phone, wallet, and keys all in check. Her phone told her it had been about an hour. Nothing crazy, luckily.

She wandered around in a daze, looking for the man. Where had he gone? What exactly had he done to her?

But nothing. He had simply vanished. Just like the time she had lost due to him… his… whatever it was.

Magic isn’t real.

She eventually came across a sign for a show. It was Vegas, so these were pretty common. However, the familiar face on the poster is what caught her attention.

It was him.

The show was in the next door hotel and started in 30 minutes.

She rushed over, managing to just grab one of the last open seats as the lights began to dim.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and the people of Vegas. Now introducing: Theodore the Illusionist!”

The overheard speakers boomed and out on stage walked…

Him.

Theodore, the man who had - put that spell, or whatever on her. Bored her to sleep. Forceful meditation, or other nonsense.

“Hello everyone,” he smiled at the audience. “How are you all tonight?”

The crowd whooped and cheered.

She sat silently, arms crossed.

“Now, I have many tricks lined up for you this evening, but for this first one I’ll need a volunteer…” He moved to the side of the stage and brought a hat back out, making a large show of the hat being empty, before he turned the hat upside down and pulled a small piece of paper out of it.

“Seat G52! Won’t you come on down…”

The spotlight found her before the realisation did.

Well, shit.

She gave an awkward smile and wave in response to the applause, and then moved to walk up to the stage. His eyes flashed with mischievous recognition.

“What a lovely lady. And what might your name be?”

She wondered if she had even given him a name the first time round. Her memories were still fuzzy.

“Dijaya.”

“Dijaya, what a lovely name. Give her a round of applause, folks!”

The crowed obeyed enthusiastically.

“Okay Dijaya, first things first could I ask you to stand here? Perfect. Good at following orders, that should make the show a whole lot smoother!”

Laughter was heard.

Of course she was going to do what he said. How could she not In front of all these people?

“Okay Dijaya, do you believe in hypnosis?”

Hypnosis.

Was that what he had done?

“Oh, uh, I’m not sure… maybe.”

“That’s good enough for me! Now I want you to stare at this pocket watch for me.”

He’d produced it out of nowhere, earning impressed gasps and murmuring from around the room.

“That’s it. Watch it go back and forth as I swing it.”

“I…”

“Don’t worry, you’re completely safe! Isn’t she, folks?”

The audience whooped. She felt her eyes growing heavy following the movement. Already her copy was sinking in on itself, much faster than last time.

“N-no… not again…”

“Not again! Why, let’s fill in the audience, shall we?”

He bobbed the pocket watch up and down, and Dijaya’s head nodded as her eyes stayed locked on it.

“You see everyone, this isn’t our first meeting. In fact, I planned this so that you would come here tonight to find me. I planned the seat you’d request, and that you’d get up on stage as my willing volunteer.”

If she had been able to think she’d be horrified.

“That’s right. Your choices were never your own.”

She dropped to her knees, still following the watch. Dipped chin and heavy eyelids, and yet still following.

So much deeper than before.

So much better than before.

She was so much more willing than before because she knew how good it felt to give in and go under.

“Now, when I snap my fingers, you’ll fall completely under my control once again.”

The audience stared with bated breath.

“3… 2… 1…”

Snap

She fell instantly.

“Ladies and gentlemen, now the real show begins.”

[btheleaf]

What made you like Pema? :3 Just out of curiosity, I feel like she's a character many people tend to kind of ignore or dislike.

Short answer: Spite

(Very) Long answer:

Tenzin was my first love and obsession when I got back into LOK. I went to AO3 to read about him and his wife! and found the attitudes towards Pemzin... odd? The ship is way less popular than Linzin, which was strange to me at the time, considering Pema/Tenzin are literally married in canon. But hey, whatever, to each their own. Maybe people just like Linzin more. Lin is a sexy badass, so I get it. Maybe people don't wanna write about the air babies. Maybe the age gap or any other countless things were giving people the ick about pemzin. Fine. It's all good to me. I began to look for pemzin fics to enjoy and found 🥲 strange things.

Pema was usually written as some kind of man-stealing demon with a magic coochie that could make Tenzin bend to her will and stay with her despite the fact that he loved Lin more, but at the same time she was a dumb and useless broodmare? More often than not, the Pema/Tenzin fics seemed to be written by people who didn't actually care for the ship and had Linzin endgame in mind.

I thought, "Okay, I'll check out Linzin, surely with way more fics to pick from, I'll find something that focuses on Lin/Tenzin and not Bad and Evil Pema."

I was disappointed to say the least.

So much cheating and lying, so many secret babies. SO MUCH Pema v. Lin, which doesn't do anything for me. I could understand it if there were Actual Reasons, but it was like Pema was showing up to be an emotional homewrecker despite her being IN HER OWN HOUSE. I just... like what the fuck is going on there?

Why does Pema hate Lin SO MUCH? Did the stories ever touch upon that? No. She just hates Lin. Obviously. Lin dated her husband 20 years ago, so she hates her. Logical. Much logic. No explanation. Look no further. Your bad guy is here. Bye-bye interesting concepts. Pema is a bitch and a snake and a man-trap and she never loved Tenzin anyway. She just wanted to be a trophy wife who ushered in a new generation of airbenders. No explanation. Don't question it. She's one-dimensional in a 3D world.

Pema is everyone's favorite bad guy in Linzin fics all because of that one line from Book one that is honestly super fucking cringe about her "seeing her soul mate with someone else." Linzin shippers asked if anyone was going to demonize this mother of four and didn't wait for an answer.

Both Pemzin and Linzin shippers need to learn how to tag their fics for both "emotional cheating" and just straight up "cheating." Navigating this shit is terrible. I once read 50k of a very interesting concept, and then all of a sudden Pema came out of nowhere and just started acting like a jealous 13 year old for no reason and Tenzin QUICKLY left her and the kids to go be with Lin. Like?? I do not understand what the fuck is going on in some people's minds.

WHERE WERE THE FICS THAT PAINTED PEMA AS A WHOLE HUMAN PERSON WITH FLAWS AND WANTS AND DESIRES??? I think most of my comments started having "thank you for writing Pema like a person" somewhere in them.

When I first made this blog and Let It Be Known that I ship pemzin, I got a looooooot of weird anons asking me stuff about like, if I support cheating and shit? I realized that these attitudes towards Pema were not Old Beliefs. These were very real people in the year of 2024 still unable to conceptualize an interesting idea for a character that has SO MUCH room to play with.

We know jack shit about her. We know just enough that makes her entire character like candy to me. She's not around a lot in the show, but also somehow is always still right there? She goes through Some Very Real Shit in every season, and her absence from screen time is like free real estate to fic writers. I literally don't understand how so many people manage to summarize her entire being into the word "snake" and move on. The potential for expanding on her character is limitless because of how little we know. The more people try to stuff her into a box, the more I'll pull her out of it.

I didn't really care about Pema until it became clear that everyone else disliked her. The more people hate her, the more I love her and the more powerful I become.

I'm like this because of how the fandom treats her.

[eeteernity]

Gekko x reader

im witting this bc when i was on the gekko x reader tag i was in the top blogs and i felt like an imposter so now i have to write one

cw: fluff

you want an indie boyfriend who skates and introduces you to music, clothes and overall just loves you? Gekko is right there in the corner staring at you in adoration

You were quite new in the protocol, you joined right after neon, so only 2 more people joined after you. You pretty much got along with everyone there, even being tolerated by viper and reyna. (you think reyna only didnt hate your guts because you were a radiant)

though you did like to hang out with neon, raze, jett and phoenix a lot. Those 4 you seemed to mesh really well with, very loud and outgoing people. Which is why it was such a shock when another agent joined.

“Everyone this is gekko, The new guy who will be joining you guys on missions, make sure to treat him well.”

Brim said sternly, while gekko just gave a bit of a goofy wave. It was love at first site.

“he’s so fine omg.”

“i know…”

you and neon whispered to each other. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, he was just so different to most the people here, he looked more relaxed and chill. Sage then took him off to show his room.

“yo (y/n) you should get to know him, he looks so cool.”

neon said with a sly smile.

“honestly I will.”

reyna looked over to you and neon and just rolled her eyes muttering ‘kids’ under her breath before walking away.

you decided to leave him alone for a bit just for him to get settled in. Sitting in the common room you switch through channels trying to find something interesting to watch. However you didn’t have to wait for long to talk to the new guy.

“hey you’re (agent name) right? sage told me your name by the way. im not a stalker or anything!”

he said putting his hands up defensively with a small smile.

“oh hey! yeah I’m (agent name) but you can call me (y/n), I don’t keep my name a secret here. It’s nice to meet you! are you liking it here?”

“yeah it’s super chill, i’m loving the vibe here. my name is mateo by the way”

he says as he sits near you on the couch.

“anything i can help you with? or did you just want to talk to me?”

you say in a teasing tone, causing his cheeks to go slightly pink.

“oh yeah i was actually wondering if you knew any places to eat around here? specifically chinese im really in the mood for that right now! But i also wanted to talk to you!”

he again said defensively.

“oh yeah i know a shit ton. you want me to go with you or just give you directions?”

“oh sí that would be great if you came along, you could help me order!”

“okay let me just go put on some shoes”

you and gekko went off to a near by street that had many food places, on the way you engaged with the usual first meeting talk like ‘how old are you?’ ‘favourite colour?’’where you from’ just the normal stuff. You got to the food place and decided to eat it there instead of takeaway. it was a small place, a family owned business. it was quaint

“so (y/n) what do you plan to get?”

“hmmm i’ll go with this one”

you point to your usual oder on the menu.

“i’ll get that too!”

you and gekko order and just keep talking. its nice, he’s really nice, and chill, and good looking and you’re staring at him again.

“so you wanna tell me about the people we work with? por favour.”

“oh yeah okay so, everyone’s really nice. Maybe not viper and reyna but they’re nice deep down… i think.

“ohhh reyna is actually the one who trains me!”

“really?! that’s cool as. Omen was the one who trained me when i first arrived. but anyway, keep your eardrums safe around raze she can be a bit loud.”

“veo, veo.”

you two keep discussing everyone until your food arrives.

“woah this looks good as, great pick (y/n)!”

“yeah, also i’ll pay for you if you want. I got spare cash”

“really! thats so nice!! gracias!”

eventually you get back, completely stuffed from the food.

“yo (y/n)! Gekko! you’re back. You guys want to watch a movie with me, raze, killjoy, sage, jett and omen?”

neon asked as soon as you walked through the door.

“yeah im down, what about you (y/n)?”

“yeah same! what movie are we watching?”

“a horror! its going to be so fun, just come to the common room when you’re ready.”

neon says before sprinting away. You look over to gekko and see him slightly frozen.

“you scared of horror movies or something?”

gekko nods his head slightly.

“don’t worry you can grab onto my arm if you get scared!”

gekko blushed a little at this.

“haha thank you (y/n)…”

the two of you walk to the common area and the movie starts. Everyone is sat in twos, Killjoy and raze, omen and sage, jett and neon.

the movie starts out well not too many scares but then the first jump scare happens. Making neon and Gekko jump

“oh shit!”

he says as he grabs onto your arm.

“sorry, didn’t mean to grab onto you.”

“its alright mateo-“

“shhhh!”

jett shushes the both of you.

the movie continues. With gekko basically clinging onto you for dear life. so like a good person you rub his back for him to clam down. he shivers at your touch. The movie ends, and killjoy and raze are giggling to themselves about how bad it was. omen and sage thank everyone for watching the movie as they walk to go do their own thing. while jett is comforting neon.

“neon it wasn’t that bad!”

“yes it was jett! what if that weird thing is going to come for me!!”

“come on lets go get you some water…”

which leaves you and gekko alone.

“you feeling alright?”

you ask him concerned.

“yep… yep. i’m alright. Man how do you not get scared?!”

you just shrug your shoulders.

“anyway i’m going to get ready for bed. If you get scared i don’t mind you waking me up or anything. I’m here for you.”

“okay, thanks for spending the day with me (y/n) it was really nice to get to know you!”

you leave.

He’s so cool..

i really like her..

OKAY THATS THE ENDING I MIGHT CONTINUE IT WHO KNOWS BUT I JUST WANTED TO GET THIS OUT. SORRY IF IT’S BAD I DIDN’T REALLY KNOW WHERE IT WAS GOING

[chaseprice]

hi!! hope i’m not a bother. i just came across u and i wanted to ask something,,,

basically, i joined the life is strange fandom in 2018 so i never got to experience the pre-bts era, meaning i didn’t get to experience what rachel was like to the fandom back then or see the different interpretations of her.

i did some digging and i found some fan content of her from 2015-2016 & i’m absolutely infatuated with all aspects of the fanon version of her, especially her personality & how she looked. i totally wanna embody her. also the love is strange vn was so interesting to play, i love how she was written. i’d love to know more!

i stumbled across ur blog while i was doing my digging and i saw an old long post of urs saying how bts didn’t live up to the fandoms expectations, as almost everyone perceived her differently.

sorry for all the yapping LOL but what i basically wanna ask is,,, how *exactly* did the fandom perceive rachel back then (2015-2016). what were some popular headcanons for her? things you guys even considered to be canon? what were some of your own *personal* headcanons? (can be silly, realistic,,, just anything you thought resonated with her)

do you have any favorite arts from that time period that you thought really captured her? what were your hopes for the prequel/rachels character before it was released? what did you want to see in terms of story? was rachel’s style, appearance, & personality extremely different than what you expected? what did you expect?

i assume that rachels treatment in the fandom was different then than what it is now. whether it’s better or worse, i’m not sure. i was hoping u could answer that too😞. recently i’ve just been seeing constant hatred or lack of care for her character so i’m starting to think that if bts was written differently and based on the fandom’s interpretations instead, the hate now wouldn’t be this bad.

from my digging it seems like you guys had alot of fun sculpting rachel’s character on your own, and the interpretations were probably more realistic than what decknine put together.

anyway i’m sorry for the yapping essay on this random saturday, most old lis accounts are dead & i didn’t know who else to ask☹️. just trying to relive what you guys experienced the best i can. hope i’m not bombarding you with this. thank you so much if u respond !!

hiii u def did not bother me, i am not in a position to answer all of these questions, but although it makes me feel ancient, it's cute to see so much passion for rachel and pre-BTS fandom opinion, so i'll try answer some and for the rest (art, hcs, etc.) im just gonna have to direct you to my archive* (will continue under the readmore)

*(tumblr archive is so broken on mobile so you gotta go on pc for this, but also there's so many gifs from that time so it will Definitely slow down your browser). i was insane and 17 years old so like, just excuse all of the cringe content i guess. you can click tag and filter it by either #lis #rachel amber #amberprice or whatever to try and find stuff like art. and i got into lis sept 2015 so that's like, as far back as it will go, but i was fully lisbrained from 2016 through 2018)

to be honest, in alignment with pre-bts thought lmao, rachel is whoever you want her to be. there was less of 'this is a correct objective fact about her personality/history' and more 'yeah, this is an idea the fandom really likes and has become fanon, most likely because it is a nuanced and entertaining and realistic interpretation of what we have seen of her character in lis1' which means people whose opinions conflicted with that might've be contested/laughed at/unpopular, but they weren't wrong per se. there were plenty of people i'd criticise (and ridicule) back then for implying that this teenage girl was evil, and being a teenager myself back then, i'd call them morally reprehensible and cancellable and whatever, but tbh, as an adult now, i can just see that it was simply a boring interpretation of her character informed by misogyny

i'd disagree with the notion that fandom treatment of rachel's character was better before bts, back then there were plenty of people seemingly excited to characterise her as emotionally manipulative, a cheater, deserved what she got, etc. as well, bc tbh, the story did leave room for that interpretation, but it left room for so much more as well. i feel like bts just really locked in on a certain story they wanted to tell plot-wise, and didn't choose to explore a lot of the questions fans had about rachel as a person. it's hard to turn the ambiguity of a friendship turned situationship over a period of 4 years into a playable experience for an audience - so they didn't. regardless, it got people thinking about rachel more, putting a spotlight on her, hence increased attention both positive and negative. i feel like there's just a fundamental difference between what lis1 fans enjoyed about the potential for her character and how she related with chloe and the world around her, and what deck9 wanted to portray in bts (yes they hit the astrological headcanons, the charmingness, her rebellion, the emotional conflicts... but it personally felt hollow, contrived sometimes, i suppose). but there were a lot of people who loved bts (i enjoyed a lot of parts of it!). just, in my opinion, some of those were quite different people from who loved lis1, and with that wave it brought a lot of emotional immaturity to the fandom (like... ship wars, really? that was an insane change to fandom dynamics for me lmao, but maybe i was just spoiled by surrounding myself with people whose takes i respected)

anyway i highly recommend also that if you're hungry for that kind of content, read fanfiction on AO3 by the old fans - by Mogatrat (TON of rachel centric ones there), explosionshark and tippytypewriter, chicknparm (though Cusp is written post-bts, it's informed by pre-bts characterisations), vicepoint (me hehe), def many more good ones out there those r jus my friends so they come to mind first, e.g. i liked homecoming by kriegersan back in the day, but you could def find some more by sorting the lis ao3 page by kudos and reading the older ones that are highly rated featuring rachel. and lastly, my gf wrote a beautifully worded blog post called "The Assassination of Rachel Amber by the Cowards Dontnod and Deck Nine" which gets into some of this from a media crit perspective (not about fandom) in a very eloquent way thru comparison w twin peaks and i highly recommend that

rachel hcs that def started way before bts: skater rachel, stoner rachel, punk music listener rachel (but also like, fleetwood mac cranberries cocteau twins grungy hippy stuff rachel too), rachel's parents being distant and still living in california, curvy thick rachel, things that i've accepted as canon but were def created by diff people: bri explosionshark hc'd that rachel paid for chloe's sleeve, mogatrat (i think) hc'd that rachel initially went to get her nips pierced with chloe (that's a longtime fan hc now idk who started that one) but chickened out at the last minute, i think she also hc'd that chloe made the earring for rachel which is cute too

[softcitrus2345]

Hello! This may sound a bit weird, but do you have any advice or recommendations on getting into this niche? I've kind of been watching from afar on several blogs, and I really want to try and test the waters! But I'm not really sure how to go about it, and I'm super scared that I'll end up just talking to a brick wall, having my mutuals find out, or have people ridicule me :')

Thank you for any and all help - I love your art!! Been hanging around for a while now and the progress you've made is so cool

- Clueless Anon

Oh I totally getcha! That's not a weird question at all! /gen /pos

Starting out with this kinda thing is really difficult, I know from experience. It took me months to hype myself up enough to even create this blog, let alone start posting on it, and I had (and still kinda do) those same fears you expressed, they're all very valid but hopefully what I share can help a bit with making your experience more manageable :3

The information I'll share here consists of opinions based on my personal experience posting on this blog, and getting into the belly kink community in general

I'll break it up into steps from what I sorta did when I started out so it makes a bit more sense.

STRUCTURE YOUR BLOG - Make an introduction post with general information about what to expect from your blog, and some other information about yourself if you want to. I like to include a few other things like some of my hard boundaries and leave it as a PINNED POST so that anyone who comes across your account will see this information

BLOCK YOUR MUTUALS - I have the same exact fear of being "found out" by people im close to or just know outside of this space, so once you set up the bare essentials on your blog, look for your mutuals accounts and block them. If you think a mutual of yours might have a blog but you're not sure, ask them! (Something I did was I asked my mutuals to send me their blogs so I could check them out when in reality it was so I could do this exact thing) Don't see blocking as something inherently malicious or bad, it's just a protective measure and a way to curate your experience on the internet in a way that is comfortable for you!

INTERACT WITH YOUR FELLOW ARTISTS! - I know it may not seem like something super important, but interacting with other artists is a very good way to establish yourself in the community, reblogging, tagging and replying to posts you like with nice comments have the potential for others to check out your blog or interact with you as well! I got lucky enough that I found similar communities outside of Tumblr beforehand, but it's still an effective way to get yourself out there and seen!

START POSTING! - Besides my intro post, my first post was something that I wanted to curate in a way that would encourage conversation. I shared several of my ocs that I planned on posting here and some basic information about them, and opened up asks! It's always gonna be a pretty slow start, but as long as you put the time into your work and are passionate about what you want to share, people will find your stuff! It's hard sometimes, especially when comparing yourself to others is such a common thing for people to deal with (including myself sometimes) but everyone's gotta start somewhere!

Starting out anywhere is difficult in itself, but with things like this that are more sensitive subjects for people, I completely understand your uncertainty and nervousness about sharing this kind of content online. But as long as you're not hurting anyone or sharing harmful content, I don't see why people should be so stinky about others just trying to explore different parts of themselves and their interests.. Kinks shouldn't inherently be seen as something to be ashamed of just because someone doesn't understand it. I've been lucky enough to have close friends in this community who have helped me become more comfortable with myself and with sharing my chonky art, and I'm incredibly grateful for that.

I'm flattered you came to me for advice, I hope some of that can help you on your journey, and thank you for sticking around for so long, it means a lot to have your support ;;w;; 💖

I hope things go well for you! I'm cheering you on anon!!

[iyney]

— STARRING - SCARA’S FRIENDS ♡

THE HEART TO MY ALBUM — A SCARAMOUCHE SMAU

✩— scaramouche : The top student in his class. He ranks a higher average than everyone else in his class, especially in math class with the extra courses and curricula he participates in.

✩— aether : The teacher’s favorite. The teachers adore Aether for his flexibility to help students and to be able to run errands for them when they are busy or attending to other matters.

✩— childe : Childhood friends with Scaramouche since they were 5 years old. Childe and Scaramouche lived in the same neighborhood which caused them to interact more than they wanted to, though Childe was more eager to be friends with Scaramouche while Scaramouche was more curious to see how long Childe could withstand his temper and behavior which led to them nonetheless being close with one another till this day.

✩— heizou : Bothers the teachers with his mysterious questions and tricky trivial questions to catch them off guard. Also blew up a science experiment when he was partnered up with Kazuha which led to Kazuha passing out from the amount of gas he consumed, but out of the kindness of Kazuha's heart, he forgave Heizou and the teachers forbid Heizou from doing any action in a lab experiment.

✩— kazuha : The calm dealer of the group, also the therapist for Scaramouche’s temper. Kazuha is somewhat like the mother of the group, he allows them to go wild while he's casually walking around with their bags on his shoulders and in his hands. Kazuha is very lightheaded so expect him to vomit whenever the group decides to take him on a rollercoaster.

THE HEART TO MY ALBUM » masterlist : previous : next

༉‧₊˚ SUMMARY: y/n was never passionate about her talent of being a violinist, mainly why she never spoke about it with grace in her words nor a shine in her eyes. But one evening, when she thought she would be alone in the music room, playing her violin. An indigo-headed boy accidentally finds his way into the humming room, following the beautiful tune that caught his ear, which turns out to be the second top student in his class, who ranks one rank lower than him and that's y/n. His presence, unfortunately, seems to go unnoticed by y/n as she’s merely focused on the strings of her violin as her fingers slowly prick the string down lightly — casting a soothing tune. Hearing this melody Scaramouche can't help but be intrigued by her aptitude and appearance that she seems to hold up very well. It was almost as if he wanted to know more about her, he had heard some interesting segments about her, and not just that but she had the second-highest score in their class. What else is there for this girl?

— taglist: @alatusorrow @veekoko @xtobefreex @scarasbaby @skyoverkill1 @iv-vee @7kkagami @1mewo1 @l3tus @hiraethhv @lovemari @feiherp @aruatsu @yoshhii @layla240 @phoenix-eclipses @0kauy @keiiqq @airorin @ridzu @saturnsapothecary @l1zzy-1s-c00l - if your blog isnt highlighted then that means i can’t tag you, please check your mention settings.

[ingravinoveritas]

Just popping by to say how much I appreciate you. Thank you for always keeping a level head. Even when you're disagreeing or calling out bullshit, you still manage to stay diplomatic and respectful. And of course, you always focus on the important things, the main one being that Michael is David's #1 fan (and vice versa)

Aw, thank you so much for this! I can't tell you how nice it was to get this message in my inbox (and apologies for not replying sooner, as I've been entirely swamped and am now trying to catch up on my Asks).

Given that this was from two weeks ago, I'm going to guess that this is mainly in response to the whole situation with David's BAFTA nom and some of the reactions that have occurred as a result. I think a lot of people have said a lot of clumsy things (looking at you, Neil) and while some may not have meant to take away from David's big moment, that still seems to be what's happened. I absolutely believe David is more than deserving of the nomination and it is long overdue at this point. He should've been nominated for Des, or even before that, his role as Alec Hardy in Broadchurch, but I am so glad he's finally gotten a nomination now.

I think the reaction a lot of people had was borne out of how tied together David and Michael's performances are as Aziraphale and Crowley, and the thought that if David were to be nominated for that specific role, then one hopes that Michael will also be nominated for his role as Aziraphale at some other point in the future.

But to your comment about my keeping a level head, I find it interesting that, in the midst of all the theories flying around about why Michael wasn't nominated and questions I got to that effect, this post showed up in the tags the same day you sent me this Ask (blog name is cropped out):

This was very obviously in reference to this Ask that I received and had answered just prior to then. This person didn't even have the nerve to mention my blog by name, but had no problem calling me an "rpf fucker" (really nice...). The question pertained to whether Michael's lack of a BAFTA nom could have been because of Anna's off-putting social media posts prior to the announcement, and I indicated in my response that I did not believe this was the case. I am not about to place blame on Anna for something that she had no part of--which I suppose this person was hoping I would do, to give credence to their ludicrous claims of sexism--and I made my position on the matter clear.

So to your comment about me disagreeing, this was exactly what happened...and yet this person had to twist what I wrote so far around (to the point of lying by omission) just to make their point. And yes, I took that Ask seriously, as I take every Ask/Anon that I get seriously, even the ones that attack me (which is also why it takes me for-freaking-ever to answer the questions in my inbox). According to the above blogger, however, instead I should've responded to the person who sent the Ask by mocking them and telling them how ridiculous and stupid they are. Because just politely disagreeing while still allowing someone the space to share their thoughts is so horrible, but telling someone to fuck off is apparently the height of discourse. Ugh.

In any case, I am very much grateful for this message, and for you and everyone else who follows my blog and has been so lovely. It's your encouragement and kindness that gives me the drive to keep posting, so thank you! ❤️❤️