#i think i might finally be able to leave my room in 2024 and i don't know what to expect of this year
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:,) 💚
#ayyy#look what showed up on my tv time rewind#i don't talk a lot about it but this series has a special place in my heart#i don't know what's really being going on with me that all my motivation and excitement to keep up w/ things is slowly melting from me#it's weird#and i don't know if it is bc cas came to an ending (which btw askfbskxkdnch such a good ending 10/10 i cried) and i'm feeling emotions#but i just want to put out somewhere how much it means to me#idk if it was the found family™️ bond that made me like it#or the fandom that made incredible stories and continuations that they wanted to bring to light#but i just really appreciate well everything that this series brought me when i have been basically stuck in my room for the whole of 2023#i think i might finally be able to leave my room in 2024 and i don't know what to expect of this year#but gosh i hope i can find more small gems like this in the world to keep me going#maybe even try to create some of it myself?#*sigh* idk#what i'm trying to say is rottmnt was in the last year to me what pjo was to me when i was in school#and i'm just overall grateful at the experience#anyways onwards to a better year? i guess?#(also uhm no i'm not leaving the turtles behind if that was the vibes i was putting out-#-these bitches are strapped in my backseat and won't leave me alone for a while. i'm just spewing feelings to make sense of where i'm at)#if you read all this then uhm no you didn't but also how are you doing? happy 2024#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#me#booksunet
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sky full of stars | ln4
summary: dj!lando always plays your song when you’re at the club.
word count: 3,615
warnings: drinking
masterlist — join my tag list here!
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
2021
You did not want to be in this club. You would need another pair of hands and feet to count off all the places you’d rather be, the very first one being asleep in your bed.
But here you were, not only in the club, but within a throng of people at varying levels of fucked up, jumping around and dancing to the song pounding through the speakers. Your comforts were twofold: the first was knowing that you could handle the two shots in your system, and the second was that your best friend was the designated driver tonight, so there was no way in hell she was going to leave without you.
Frankly, you’d been ready to leave an hour ago. In fact, you’d started saying the words, “I want to go home” when you caught a glimpse of the DJ in charge of tonight’s music. Granted, it was hard to really look at him considering the fact that the lights were low and you were on the other end of the club, but you’d seen just enough to know that he was attractive and any thought of leaving had gone right out the window. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t said anything when he started his set, so you didn’t even know what his voice sounded like.
You needed a closer look.
So here you were, surprisingly enjoying yourself on the dance floor while you tried to check him out without being overly conspicuous. You were only able to make out a head of curly hair and the large hand that lifted a shot glass to his lips when your phone started ringing, the buzz in your pocket the only indication thanks to the blaring music. You squinted at the screen, thinking it might be your friend trying to find you, but the caller ID read “Potential Spam,” so your phone went right back into your pocket. You were on a mission.
When you looked up, you made direct eye contact with the man of the hour– the DJ you found nothing short of infatuating. You were rather close to his setup, maybe ten people away, but you could feel his gaze on you as he picked up a microphone.
“This next song is dedicated to the gorgeous woman I’m looking at right now,” he announced to the whole room, sending a wink in your direction before getting to work on fading the current song into the new one– “A Sky Full of Stars” by Coldplay.
You felt goosebumps rising on your arms as the first few notes filled the room, suddenly glad that you were here and not at home, asleep. The lights moved in tandem to the beat of the song, and you finally got a proper look at his face. It’s then that you knew you were screwed, because if he wasn’t the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life, you’d be lying.
You barely had any time to pull yourself together before he was motioning for one of his friends to take over for him and stepping down from the booth into the crowd, making a beeline right for where you stood in the middle of it all.
“You’re awfully bold,” you said when he was close enough to hear you, a bit taken aback by how quickly he’d closed the distance between the two of you. “What makes you think I like this song?”
He didn’t answer at first, instead choosing to slowly run his hand down your arm until his fingers tangled with yours. “You have goosebumps, and I’d be shocked if you didn’t like it. When I played it last time, you came up to me and tried to take the mic so you could sing it to everyone.”
That’s another reason why you never made a habit out of going to the club. Somehow, it always got to the point where you lost your mind a little bit and somehow managed to find new ways to make an idiot out of yourself. But tonight was different– you were managing your alcohol intake, and the hot DJ was calling you out on something you’d been too drunk to remember the next morning.
Your friends hadn’t though; in fact, they’d been gracious enough to provide video proof of them dragging you away from the DJ booth. You’d never felt such shame as you did watching that back.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, his free hand tilting your chin up so he could look right at you as he spoke. “It’s how I noticed you in the first place. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you since.”
At least one good thing came out of my foolishness, you thought to yourself as he took your other hand and put both of your arms around his neck. It made sense, anyway– you definitely would’ve remembered seeing him before had you been sober.
“I’m not a very good dancer,” you warned him as he began to sway to the music, taking you along with him as his hands went down to your hips.
“Neither am I,” he confided, lips close to your ear.
The chorus began, the song’s beat drop making the lights change from red to blue, and you decided that you would let this happen, even if it turned into another embarrassing memory. At least you would remember this time, and you’d never forget swaying back and forth with the handsome DJ as the rest of the crowd danced around you both.
2022
You were in the club again, and you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Spending so much time with your favorite DJ, Lando Norris, will do that to you. After that first dance, he bought you a couple drinks and didn’t go back to the DJ booth for the rest of the night due to you dragging him right back out into the crowd and dancing with him until your feet hurt too much to stand. Eventually, your best friend had found you and told you it was time to go, and in your tipsy state you’d kept your arms firmly around Lando, said something about “holding him hostage,” and vehemently refused to go anywhere. It wasn’t until he gave you his number that you allowed your best friend to take you home.
He texted you right away when he woke up that morning, and the day after the two of you went on your first date. He surprised you by taking you to a rather high-end restaurant; you’d pegged him for a more low-key guy when it came to dates, despite the fact that he’d dedicated a song to you in front of a club full of people, and you were proved correct when you were on the phone with him later that night.
“I don’t even like going out that much,” he confessed, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. “I just thought you deserved something special for a first date so I didn’t look like a loser.”
“You could have just told me that,” you giggled. “The dress code for our next date can be sweats.”
You still remembered the way his eyes lit up when you said “our next date.” That next date, a movie marathon at your apartment, had turned into countless dates, and you never went back to that restaurant.
Now, you were in the club where the two of you first met to celebrate your one year anniversary. Lando was wearing a white button up, and had just unbuttoned the top two buttons to reveal more of his tan skin and the gold chain around his neck. You’d given him a look, and he’d complained that “it’s just so hot in here,” but the both of you knew he was just doing it to rile you up.
It was working.
Your hands gravitated to the newly exposed skin, palms running up along his shoulders and fingers dipping beneath his collar to gently scratch at his back. You could spend all night running your hands over his skin, and he’d be happy to let you do it. He leaned closer to you, nearly stepping on your toes as his arms looped around your waist.
“You really weren’t lying last year when you said you were a bad dancer.” You laughed at the affronted look on his face.
“I think I’ve gotten better, thank you very much.” He said, and promptly stepped directly on your foot. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry!”
You only laughed harder, pulling him into a kiss. You could feel the vibrations of his own laughter against your lips.
“Wait right here,” he instructed, breaking the kiss. “I’ve got something for you.”
He kissed your cheek and disappeared into the crowd.
The song playing began fading out, which caught your attention because it was in the middle of the chorus. You didn’t need Lando’s DJ knowledge to know that it was a strange decision to fade a song out long before it was over.
“Attention, everyone. We had a special request tonight from a familiar face,” the DJ announced before passing the microphone to none other than your boyfriend.
“This next song goes out to my beautiful girlfriend,” Lando said, pointing directly at you and causing your face to get hot when half the room looked in the direction of his finger. “Happy one year, baby. I love you.”
Your jaw dropped as the familiar opening notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” started playing. Not just because of the song, but because of those three special words. I love you. You’d only said it to each other a handful of times, and Lando had just said it to you in front of hundreds of people.
You met him in the middle of the floor, too impatient to wait until he got back to you.
“I love you, I love you so much!” You yelled over the music, kissing him again.
“One year is just the beginning, yeah?” He asked, and you nodded enthusiastically, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.
2023
You were wrapped up in Lando’s arms as you stood before his setup. In the past year, he had been promoted to be the main talent for the club and had three sets every weekend. He had insisted that the only gift he wanted from you for your two year anniversary was that you help him DJ his next set, and you’d obviously agreed. You got him a necklace anyway, but kept your promise so long as he promised to help you gain at least some skills beforehand so the audience wouldn’t kick you out for being shit. After a week or so, you felt confident enough with the buffer of the knowledge you’d picked up over the past two years to be where you were now– fading one song into another almost seamlessly.
Lando would take his hands off of you for only seconds at a time to adjust something here or there and make the music flow as smoothly as possible. Otherwise, he was all over you for the whole club to see, and you were kind of obsessed with it. He was hardly paying attention to anything else; only moving on autopilot to fiddle with the knobs or whatever it was he was doing to make you look like an adequate DJ.
“Did I do okay?” You asked towards the end of the set, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend who hadn’t stopped smiling at you since you left the apartment and arrived at the club early to set up.
“Are you kidding? I think I might be out of a job after tonight,” he said, threading his fingers into your hair to pull you into a long kiss. “At least I would be, if I didn’t have this party trick under my sleeve.”
Slightly dazed from the passion of his kiss, you let him lean around you and queue up a song that wasn’t originally in the mix for that evening’s set.
At this point, you should have expected it, and maybe you did a little bit, but that didn’t stop the tears from pricking your eyes and the goosebumps rising on your arms when “A Sky Full of Stars” began, sending the crowd into a chorus of cheers.
“It works every time,” he said cheekily, reaching up to wipe away the tears that had escaped.
“You are unbelievable.” It was meant to be said in jest, but you were just so filled with love and adoration for him that it sounded like a compliment.
“Dance to our song with me,” he said, spinning you and tugging you forward so you bumped right into his chest.
“Here?” You looked behind you, at the set up, at the hundreds of people, and he took your chin in his hand and turned your face back to him.
“Here. Now. I want them all to see how much I love you.” He said it so sweetly that, in that moment, you were willing to give him just about whatever he wanted.
He started singing the song to you, “‘Cause in a sky, ‘cause in a sky full of stars, I think I saw you,” and it felt like you were the only two people in the room when the beat dropped and you kissed him with everything you had, letting him sway you back and forth and spin you around one too many times just to see his smile and hear his giddy laugh.
2024
You’re surprised when Lando tells you that he’s made different plans for your three year anniversary. The club has become a second home of some sorts; you’re there more often than not to watch his sets, and you’ve always gone there for your anniversaries. Not just the years, but the six month, year and a half, and two and a half year anniversaries as well. Thus, the sudden deviation from tradition raises a few alarm bells in your head. If anything, you’d expect a change for your four years next year since 4 is your boyfriend’s lucky number.
You don’t have time to dwell on it that much. You have to be out the door in ten minutes, and you still have to finish applying your lipstick, not to mention strap yourself into the sparkling silver heels Lando had gotten you for Christmas.
“Almost ready, baby?” He asks, peeking into the bathroom and watching as you add one last swipe of lipstick.
“Yup! Just need my—” you’re cut off when he holds up the heels. “—shoes. Thanks, Lan.”
“Here, sit. I’ll put them on for you.” He gestures to the edge of the tub.
You take him up on his offer happily, and your heart jumps up into your throat when he stares right into your eyes and slowly gets down on one knee before you.
You’d overheard him talking about possibly proposing to you with your parents over the holiday break, and you hadn’t been stealthy about it at all, so he knows that you heard. Since then, he’s made a game out of getting on one knee in front of you every now and then. He already did it once this morning when he woke you up only to tell you that he made you breakfast. You know he’s joking, but now that you’re celebrating a significant milestone in your relationship you can’t help but have a slight inkling that his joking around is less of a joke and more of a hint.
So when he holds your gaze long enough to make you start thinking that it might actually happen before going about putting your shoes on, you’re not at all fazed and ruffle his hair.
“Hey! Easy, I spent a lot of time making my hair look good for you.” He yelps, jumping up to look in the mirror and patting it down meticulously.
“I like it when it’s messy,” you reply, giving him a look that you know drives him crazy.
“You can’t say that and look at me that way when we’re trying to leave the house, babe.” He whines.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You make sure the straps on your heels are tight enough before you stand up, pleased that your retaliation to his down-on-one-knee joke worked better than you thought it would. “Come on, I don’t want to be late!”
He wastes no time in getting his payback for your antics when you arrive at the restaurant he took you to for your very first date. He opens the car door for you, and takes your hand to help you step out. The moment you’re on the sidewalk and the door is closed behind you, he gets down on one knee again, making a point to look at you the entire time. Your heart jumps again. Certainly he wouldn’t do it on the sidewalk? Or maybe he would, to add to the element of surprise?
He doesn’t. He simply ties his shoelace, the picture of innocence all the while.
“Shall we?” He says as he straightens up, offering his arm with a smile.
You retain your own picture of innocence, wrapping your hand around his bicep. “We shall.”
Seeing that he had booked the private dining room has more alarm bells going off in your head, not to mention the fact that you thought you’d never see the inside of this restaurant again. Regardless, you were actually kind of happy to be somewhere quieter to celebrate your anniversary, as much as you’ve fallen in love with being at the club.
Lando clears his throat loudly towards the end of your meal as the waiter pours two glasses of champagne. “Three years,” he begins, sounding somewhat awestruck.
You nod in agreement. “Three years. Sick of me yet?”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” He passes you a glass, and you clink them together before you each take a sip. “Actually, I’d really love to just spend my entire life with you.”
Now he’s not even trying to hide it, so you laugh a little bit. “That’s sweet, Lan.”
“I’m serious,” he pouts, and you try to contain yourself, painting a serious expression on your face and nodding as you press your lips together. “Fine, I admit it. I went a little too far with the joke.”
“Which time? Are we talking about just today or the past few weeks?” You ask pointedly, taking another sip of your champagne.
“Okay, a lot too far.” He huffs, getting out of his chair and pushing it in before walking to your side of the table. “I want to make up for it right now though, if that’s alright with you.”
“Oh my God. You’re actually serious?” You ask, feeling your insides beginning to shake a little with giddiness as he gets down on one knee before you for the fourth time today.
“I have never been more serious about anything in my life.” He reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a small box.
It looks a bit different than ring boxes normally look, and the moment he opens it you understand why. The notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” emit from within the box where the ring sits, the dazzling diamond sparkling when it catches the light.
“Fuck’s sake, Lando, I wouldn’t have spent so much time on my makeup if I knew you were gonna do this,” you sniffle, putting a hand over your mouth.
“I’ll keep it short because I don’t want to cry too much and ruin it,” he promises, taking your free hand in his own, the other holding the box out to you. “I’ve never been happier to be borderline assaulted by a drunk girl in the middle of a set, because if that never happened I don’t know if we would’ve met.”
You start laughing hysterically, tears most definitely ruining your makeup, and he laughs through his own tears.
“I just love you so much, every little thing about you. It would take me eternity to tell you how much I love you, and that wouldn’t even be enough time with you. So, that’s why I want to ask you to be with me beyond eternity and do me the honor of being my wife.” He says your name like he’s saying it for the first time, taking his time to savor the way it rolls off his tongue. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” you nod. “Yes, yes, yes.”
Hand shaking, he slips the ring onto your finger. The moment it’s in place, he puts his other knee down and pulls you into the tightest hug as the song continues playing from the box.
“I love you,” you whisper in his ear, feeling his shoulders shake slightly as he cries. “But did you have to give me a heart attack so many times today?”
He laughs, pulling away and grabbing a napkin to gently wipe your eyes. “Four’s my lucky number, I had to do it three other times today to make sure I got it right.”
The song comes to an end, and you pick up the box, observing the intricate design and the engraving on the outside– You get lighter the more it gets dark. I’m going to give you my heart. Forever.
“You know this has to be the song we dance to for the first time as Mr. and Mrs. Norris, right?” You say to him, leaning in and kissing the tears off of his cheeks.
“Way ahead of you, baby. I already started making our playlist; it’s the first song on there.”
note: the fact that i’m posting this after lando confirmed he “retired” from dj-ing… call this my long-winded eulogy. special thanks to coldplay for making a song that inspired a whole story!
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are always appreciated <33
beautiful dividers by @/saradika !
tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @thef1diary @clara760-blog @baby-moxley @positiveaspirations @xfuckoffx @hannahbrown2002 @cataalinababeyy @inejghafawifesblog @formulasportworld @meandjoemama @maddie-bell @mrsmaybank13 @hadids-world @havaneselover08 @aacherrylips @itsmoonia @universallyhoundbonkfestival @rery30 @paigeworlds @wassgood @itscrzy @ctrlyomomma @inlovewithdeadboys @multifandomfan1 @bwormie @megsmclaren @barackostea @enchantemirrorball @tiredallthetimex @cosmoscoffeee @mlilyb16 @ophcelia @idktbhhsworld @l-inas @kath8278 @formulaangel55 @y-nusername @sla123455ffh @dinodumbass @diaa-20 @alexmarie29 @lisoba13 @ftdtlovecore @clowngirlsstuff @jurelij @romanxffs @sadisticfries @loyalpuffofthehuffle @cherrue @itsprashimusic @danielmarie @dampcelery0294 @shasasthings @bringbacktim @lou-larcher5 @yunakynn @hanbinnneee
#full fic#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x reader
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Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 5
Fandom;
Mean Girls (2024)
Pairings:
Regina George x Reader
Summary:
The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.
Warnings;
Underage smoking, underage drinking, Claustrophobia, homophobia mention
Parts;
Part1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6
“Why the fuck is Regina in your room? Why are you even speaking to her? Dude! Fucking answer me!”
Janis’s voice is so loud down the tiny phone speaker that it makes it buzz like an annoying little mosquito.
You scowl and resist the creeping urge to hang up, and throw your phone far far away, maybe off a cliff. You click the volume down and try and muffle the sound of Janis ranting down the speaker by shoving the receiver deep into your pocket, but it’s too late.
Regina has already left. Her bedsheets are left thrown back and crumpled, she usually fixes the blankets back to perfection so she clearly left in a hurry.
You grab your jacket with a huff and stomp outside the cabin to stand in your usual smoking spot and light a much needed cigarette before putting the phone up to you ear.
Janis is still yelling, finishing a sentence you didn’t hear the start of. Some accusation about alliances with the enemy.
“Fucking hell, Janis! It’s not that big of a deal!” You finally snap.
The phone goes silent. It’s a welcome break but you know she’ll start up again.
“Yeah sure, my best friend suddenly being pals with Regina George, not a big deal.” She snarks. “Can I just remind you, that bitch nearly ruined my life! Is that why you’re ignoring my calls? Because you’re too busy becoming plastic?”
You sigh. “It’s not like that.”
That’s true. You haven’t been morphed into some sort of Barbie doll all of a sudden just because you spent some time with Regina. To be truthful, you realise Regina isn’t really like that either. She’s a little messy, she’s flawed, but you think she’s more perfect like that. Your face softens slightly at the memory of yesterday, her mascara dripping down her cheeks with a big grin plastered on her face. She wears a fake mask to protect anyone from seeing her real personality. You get it. It’s easier to take a rejection when you haven’t really shown your true identity.
Your heart aches to defend her. To tell Janis to back off, but you can’t. She wouldn’t understand.
“Look, she got roomed with me because she got drunk with Gretchen and Karen on the first night so the teachers wanted to split them up.” You explain as calmly as you can while your blood boils beneath the surface.
“So why didn’t you think to mention this when I called last?” She snaps back. She’s caught you there.
“Because I knew you’d go all revenge-crazed and pissed off like this!” You shout back. You hear Janis scoff.
“Whatever, I don’t give a shit about Regina. She literally means nothing to me! Less than nothing, I just want to see that bitch suffer-“
“Then why can’t you stop talking about her!” As soon as the words leave your mouth you regret them.
“Fuck you, man.” She doesn’t even give you a second before hanging up.
You take a long draw of the cigarette that’s spent most of its time burning away between your fingers. You felt guilty about arguing with Janis, she’d been your best friend since the start of high school, and you could still see the pain that Regina had caused was still playing on her. You didn’t know the full details but you knew that Regina had outed her in a cruel way and made her out to be obsessed just so she could be with a boy. But that was a while ago, people can change.
So why hadn’t you been able to tell her that you liked girls when she hinted at it? You couldn’t even trust her fully.
You couldn’t help your mind wandering to where Regina might be. That seems to be all you can think about recently. Regina. You never fell for her Queen Bee attitude, high school drama was boring to you, you’d rather steer clear of it. But this new, playful, carefree side to her? You couldn’t get enough of.
She’s probably snuck off to meet Gretchen and Karen. You were surprised that she’d actually followed rules for once and not gone to meet them yet. Was it because you had been there with her instead? She said last night that she had enjoyed hanging out with you.
How much of the phone call had she heard before she left?
You light another cigarette. It’s not like you to chain smoke like this but you can’t help it when you’re stressed. The smoke whirls out in front of you, lines of wispy grey entangle and then disappear in-front of your eyes.
You head back inside the cabin when you’re done. Regina still isn’t back.
You lift your bedsheets ready to try unsuccessfully to get some sort of rest and find tiny pieces of paper, shredded on your mattress. It’s the drawing Regina took.
She clearly heard more than she was meant to.
You brush it onto the floor, not bothering to collect the tiny scraps, that felt more like little broken pieces of your soul.
When you finally close your eyes you’re back in the clearing. This time you don’t feel afraid and you automatically start scanning the shadows between the trees. A pair of blue eyes catch yours, as usual, but as soon as you take a step forward,the big cat slinks back into the shadows and disappears.
When you wake up, Regina still isn’t back. Your stomach sinks. She probably won’t want to speak to you ever again, you won’t even get a chance to explain.
You know you have to be up and ready in 20 minutes but you don’t want to get out of bed, or risk bumping into Regina.
It’s pretty hot outside and you’re not sure what the activity will be today so you put on a black tank and some loose khaki trousers. Regina must have been back when you were asleep because her bed is made and her cupboard door is left open.
When you go over to the campfire pit, she is already there. She’s standing around with the usual two girls but she’s also next to Shane Oman.
That makes you nauseous. He’s grinning and so obviously checking Regina out.
She starts running her hand up and down his bicep and over his chest, giggling and leaning into him. He’s loving it and has a hand around her waist. You turn around so you don’t have to look at whatever show they’re putting on.
It feels like she’s doing it just to spite you.
Seeing her that close to him makes your stomach knot with jealousy, it shouldn’t, it’s not like you’re together.
“Okay everyone listen up! Today and tomorrow are the last days of camp, so you will be hiking and setting up your own camp for tonight. This will combine all of the skills you have learnt this week!” There’s a dull chatter of excitement as maps are passed around and people start getting into groups.
You secretly hoped you’d be paired in cabin groups so Regina might actually hear you out and stop being so pissed off. It would get her away from Shane too.
Much to your annoyance, you’re told you have to pair up with Regina, Gretchen, Karen and Shane because apparently it’s unsafe to go alone.
You’d actually rather be eaten by a bear.
Each group is given a tent, you’re given two, the teachers tell you Shane has to stay in one separately but you know that won’t happen. You’re hoping you can just keep that tent for yourself. You’re also given other supplies like cooking utensils, scissors, a mallet, rope etc.
Shane offers to carry both tents in a pitiful attempt to seem strong and manly. Regina plays straight into it and makes a big deal out of grabbing Shane’s hand and feeling his arms.
It makes you roll your eyes. You’re sure you see the corners of Regina’s lips curve in a smirk.
You end up carrying one of the tents anyway, it’s pretty heavy but at least it gives you an excuse to stay at the back of the group, it’s not like you’ll have anything to talk to them about.
Regina walks in-front of you with Karen and Gretchen on one side, and Shane on the other. You’re pretty sure everyone has forgotten your existence, apart from Regina perhaps.
She’s wearing a black crop top and baby pink mini skirt, it makes being behind the group kind of worth it.
After about 2 hours you get to a dead end, there’s a large rock ledge with a few crude dips for you to put your hands and feet to climb up. There are thick shrubs either side to stop anyone going around. This must be what they meant by testing the skills you’d learnt.
Regina goes up first, Shane is standing almost directly underneath her and is grinning to himself. It makes your stomach turn. She climbs up easily, and stands with her arms folded impatiently when she gets to the top.
Shane goes up next, again making a big deal of being so manly, he practically jumps from one step to re other up the ledge. It makes you cringe. He looks more like an ape.
Regina catches your expression and as soon as he’s up she’s all over him again. Is this some sort of punishment? But why would she be trying to make you jealous that way?
You go up last. It’s not too high so you’re not really afraid.
“Don’t fall, loser.” Regina spits and the whole group burst out laughing.
It stings but you ignore it and carry on walking behind them once you reach the top. Whatever she’s trying to do, to get under your skin, to piss you off, you’re not going to give her the satisfaction.
You notice Shane’s hand sneak down from her waist towards her ass and Regina visibly stiffens and moves away slightly.
Soon enough you come to a small opening in the rocks, must be the second challenge. Even from behind you see Regina tense up. It’s just a narrow crawl space that likely pops out quickly on the other side. There’s a wall of rock that seems impossible to climb that looks to go on for a while either side.
Shane goes through first, followed by Gretchen and Karen.
“I’m not fucking doing that.” Regina huffs once it’s just the two of you, raising her hands. “I’ll walk around.”
“It looks like you’ll be walking for a while.” You try and reason, but she’s already started walking.
“I’ll come with you.” You’re not sure why you offer. The suns setting slightly and you don’t like the idea of Regina going alone. Even if it is just a few minutes to walk around the obstacle.
You follow behind in silence as she walks along the rock wall, thinking about all the things you wish you could say. I’m sorry about what Janis said, I don’t agree with her. I like hanging out with you, I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out.
You want to reach out and take her hand like she was doing with Shane, especially since now you know how soft she is.
You want to gently cup her face and kiss her, feel her soft lips and be intoxicated by her warm vanilla scent. You want to ask her on a date, maybe go to the movies, take her for a nice dinner, kiss her on the front porch.
All the things she’s probably done, or will do with Shane.
It feels like you’re walking for ages, it’s quite a lot darker than when you started. Regina keeps a quick pace ahead of you. Her face fixed in a permanent scowl.
You finally turn the corner and see the entrance to the small cave.
Nobody is there, they’ve left. How long did it even take you to walk round anyway?
“What the FUCK.” She screams. It’s so loud you swear you see birds scattering off their branches. “What bitches!”
She growls and flops down, sitting on a fallen tree trunk. You can see a glimmer of hurt and confusion in her eyes.
“It’s getting dark. We have one of the tents , we should set up some kind of camp.” You say, dropping the tent bag on the floor.
“Whatever. I’m not helping though.” She huffs. You don’t bother arguing, you can tell she’s hurt and you don’t want to make things worse.
You unzip the tent bag and start pulling out poles. There are no instructions and all of the poles look identical. You start arranging them in a way that sort of resembles a tent, you bend the long metal pole and try to force it into a fabric sleeve of the tent material, you think it’s secure and let go but it pings back up with such a force that the whole structure jumps. You leap back, the metal projectile misses your face by millimetres.
Regina’s watching you with an amused expression. It makes you blush. At least she’s in a better mood.
After about an hour of wrestling with tent fabric and poles, you’ve made a structure. You’re not sure if you can call it a tent, or if it’ll stay up but it provides some cover.
As night draws close it gets significantly colder so you collect some wood and dry grass for a small fire. Luckily you always carry your lighter so it was simple enough to start. Both you and Regina sit opposite sides of the fire, on the floor, the smoke isn’t as thick as the silence between you.
You dig around in your bag, hoping that maybe you packed some supplies from the bag the teachers gave you. The others must have most of the food and cooking equipment.
You did pack one thing
Marshmallows.
You hold the bag up to Regina who giggles and finds two thin sticks for you to roast them on over the fire. Neither of you speak still as you hold the stick, turning it every now and then.
You remember one other thing you packed secretly in your bag, you rifle through again and pull out a small hip flask of vodka and take a swig. With no mixer, the liquid burns all the way down to your stomach, you offer it to Regina who grimaces but takes the flask.
You sit for a while, toasting Marshmallows and passing the hip flask back and forth before one of you is buzzed enough to speak.
“You and Shane make a good couple.” You’re not sure why you even say it, you don’t think that at all. Regina seems tense around him and you’re pretty sure he’s only after one thing.
“I know.” She responds flatly. It’s unconvincing.
You swallow another dreadful mouthful of vodka. It feels like willingly swallowing paint thinner.
“Why did you screw over Janis?”
Her brows furrow, she reaches for the flask and takes a drink. That was definitely the wrong thing to say but the vodka makes words tumble out before your brain has a chance to screen them.
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I guess you think I’m a bad person.” She doesn’t meet your gaze and her tone sounds defeated and a little ashamed.
“ I don’t.” You say quickly. “You must have had a reason.”
“Yeah… I did.” She sighs.
You decide not to push it any further.
“Are you looking forward to camp being over?” You decide to try and divert the conversation.
“Not really, there’s not as much pressure here to perform. I don’t like being a bitch you know, it’s just school, it’s survival of the fittest.” She starts “Out here I feel free. I actually miss middle school, I wish I never went to that party, or kissed Janis. I’m sick of everyone thinking I’m fake, nobody treats me like an actual person.”
She looks up at the night sky, a small tear running down her cheek, catching the moonlight which makes it look like a diamond.
“Being with you has felt free.”
Your heart skips a beat. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol but you get the courage to go and sit next to her. You gently put your arm around her shoulders and she relaxes into you.
You fit together like a puzzle.
You look up and scan the stars with your eyes and find what you’re looking for. You point up to 3 stars in a row.
“There’s Orion’s Belt. Those 3 stars are several times bigger than the sun, and they burn tens of thousands of times brighter.”
Her gaze falls to where you’re pointing.
“It kind of reminds me of you, Karen and Gretchen.” Regina laughs at this. “You shine brighter than anyone else at the school. I know what you mean about just trying to survive, just try not to burn so bright you burn out. You’re perfect enough as you are.”
She sighs, her hand is on your lap now and you struggle to concentrate on the stars.
“And that one sort of looks like a lion” You point up again, Orion’s Belt is the only one you recognise. Luckily this makes her giggle more.
She lifts her head at the same time you turn. She’s so close you can see the stars reflecting in her eyes. In this moment you realise you have two options.
A look of hesitation crosses her face and she starts to pull away.
You make a sudden, probably stupid decision.
As soon as your lips meet you see stars explode behind your eyelids. Her lips are just as soft as you imagined, it takes a second before she’s kissing you back. Her hands reach up and tangle in your hair. It’s gentle and rough all at the same
You pull away. “ I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t-“
She cuts you off with another quick, soft kiss.
“I’m tired, I’m going to sleep.” She says, standing and walking over to the tent which is shockingly still standing.
You’re left, sitting on the ground next to the now dwindling fire, kept warm by the redness in your cheeks. You pull out a cigarette and light it on the smouldering fire.
The star lion in the sky beams down at you.
#wlw#mean girls 2024#regina george#regina george fanfic#regina george x reader#regina george x you#mean girls#mean girls fanfic#renee rapp#cabin fever
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GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 5: I'LL NEVER LEAVE... NEVER MIND [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]
goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist | wattpad f1 masterlist | ao3 | ask anything or let's talk!
ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader
word count: 4437
summary: after not seeing each other in almost five years, seb and y/n finally meet with just one purpose for her: telling seb they have a 4 year old daughter. will y/n be able to tell him?
warnings: mentions of sex. i think nothing else but i literally cried while writing this. i recommend that you listen to loml by taylor swift while reading this hehe
taglist: [ @saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife @sleutherclaw @youre-on-your-ownkid ]
a/n: i'm finally back! sorry you had to wait this long to get a new chapter but writers block had me going like crazy, as well as my mental health in general. i had something else planned for today BUT be aware of what I'm posting tomorrow since you might like it! christmas is coming soon and i have a surprise ready for you. let me remind you that feedback and reposts are truly appreciated. and also comment me your thoughts and theories on the story pls! missed you so much guys, thank you for everything, love you all <3
© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!
May 15th Heppenheim, Germany
“Y/N, remember that you need to be careful with what you say to Seb. I know you want to tell him about Emily, but also consider whether today is the right time. Imagine if…”
You stop listening to Hanna the moment her lips utter your daughter’s name. Instead, your mind started creating a thousand different scenarios about what could happen when you saw your ex-boyfriend today. Your gaze remained fixed on the mirror in your room.
You only returned home five days ago, but it felt like an eternity.
You knew perfectly well why, or rather, you knew perfectly well who was to blame for your distorted sense of time: Sebastian Vettel, of course.
The trip to London felt like a fresh start. While the main reason to go was your meeting with Capital Records to discuss what your near future might hold, you considered it as an opportunity to rethink what you wanted to do with your life from now on.
You had just turned 30, and the only thing you longed for was to start this new decade with a clean slate in every possible way. That, of course, included facing your past mistakes and recognizing your faults, one of which you might be about to commit today.
Hanna acted as some sort of mediator between you and Seb because, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t bring yourself to send him even the simplest of messages. The driver seemed to understand, as he told Hanna not to worry, that he understood, and that all you needed to do was show up without standing him up.
Despite having agreed to meet at your house, you decided to dress up a little to present yourself in the best way possible. After spending far more time than you’d like to admit choosing what to wear, you settled on a light blue knee-length dress and white Converse sneakers, with a bracelet your daughter made (or better said your mother made, just Emily took credit for).
"Y/N, are you even listening to me?"
The reflection of your best friend in the mirror startled you. You turned towards her, trying to maintain the calm you’ve lacked since returning from London. Exactly five days that have felt like five years.
Like the five years since you last saw Seb.
"Hey, cat got your tongue or what?" insisted the blonde. "Seriously, Y/N, I want you to be speechless, but preferably when you and Seb take the conversation from the couch to the bed and he makes you scream his name again just like he used to do when..."
"Hanna, for God's sake, shut up! Seb and I are only going to talk about..."
"I know, I know, I was just trying to make you laugh. You know I like to..."
Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
If you were restless before, pacing back and forth in your room, checking that there was no trace of Emily in the house for Seb to find, now you were frozen like a statue.
You looked at Hanna, and she looked back at you. You shrugged, but Hanna just put her exaggeratedly unfriendly faces.
"Hanna, no..."
"It's Seb, Y/N! It's just Seb, for heaven's sake," she interrupted, and you cut her off just as fast.
"It's the Seb I haven't seen in five years!" you stammered, feeling the anxiety taking over. "Seriously, Hanna, this was a very, very bad idea. I don’t even know why I asked you to tell him to come and..."
"Because he's the father of your daughter, and your only goal is to tell him!" she yelled, trying not to raise her voice too much but failing miserably. You hoped to God Vettel didn’t hear that.
"Hanna..."
"Since I know you're not going to open the door, I'll do it myself. Stay here or come down, do whatever you want, but I'll tell Seb to come find you because clearly, you can't handle welcoming your guest," she declared.
Without saying anything else, she strided out of your room. You could only follow her, practically tripping down the stairs, legs trembling like a teenager on her first date. Your pulse was pounding in your temples, while your mind kept screaming at your body to calm down.
As soon as you stepped onto the ground floor, you saw Hanna opening the door. Her cheerful voice broke the silence, asking Seb how he was and, to your surprise, inviting him in.
You inched closer, not quite enough for them to notice you. Then you stopped, inspecting Seb from head to toe, as if you didn't already know every inch of his body by heart. Even though you were used to seeing him on TV and social media daily, it felt like you haven’t seen him in all this time you’ve been out of touch. He was wearing a slightly worn-out white t-shirt and jeans. His hair was perfectly trimmed, though a bit longer on top, and his beard, probably several days old, was what caught your attention the most, looking just the way you liked it.
But what really captivated you was the bouquet of yellow tulips he was holding, just like he used to bring you for dates or whenever it was a special day for either of you back when you were dating.
You swallowed hard, guilt washing over you as you thought, for a fleeting moment, about him handing you a flower bouquet before you told him you were having his baby.
"Hi..."
You thought your whisper was too soft to be heard, but it was quite the opposite.
Both Seb and Hanna turned to look at each other, then focused on you, still standing in the entryway. Your best friend tensed up slightly, but you tried to reassure her with a slight movement of your hands. The expression on your ex-boyfriend’s face seemed to light up at your small intervention, even if it was minimal.
“Well, Seb, I'll leave you with Y/N. I have a few errands to run…” Your friend tried to excuse herself, though both of you knew it wasn’t true. “See you later for a drink guys!
She winked and quickly slipped out, shutting the door behind her before either of you could even say goodbye.
Now, it was just the two of you, alone.
Seb looked at you again, and you couldn’t help it but get lost in the blue of his eyes. The situation felt strange. You used to cherish every moment of being alone together, but now you didn’t even know how to say a simple "hello."
You once trusted him completely, and now you were unsure whether to offer him a drink or tell him that you have a four-year-old daughter.
“Hi, sunshine,” he said, breaking the silence.
“Hi, Seb.”
He took a step towards you, slowly moving closer. You noticed how his gaze shifted from the flowers to your eyes, as if he was searching for some kind of answer from you. His eyes reflected a mixture of nervousness and tenderness, stirring a whirlwind of emotions inside you.
He didn’t have to say it, you could see it in his eyes. He was afraid of how you’d react to this gesture, this little detail that used to drive you crazy, but now… you didn’t know how to feel about it.
You, on the other hand, were utterly stunned.
How, after all this time and how cold you ended things, could he still do this? How could he still remember?
“These... are for you,” he finally said, his voice low and shaky. He handed you the bouquet, his hands trembling.
You met his gaze, and the way he looked at you was filled with fear, insecurity, and maybe, just maybe, a bit of tenderness. He didn’t need to say it out loud because you knew him too well. He was afraid of how you’d react to this gesture.
“Thank you,” you managed to say, taking your time to smell the flowers.
You couldn’t hold it in. Tears began to blur your vision, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you.
He noticed. Even though you didn’t want to, even though you didn’t feel capable of getting close enough to give him a kiss on the cheek or maybe even a hug, Seb did it anyway.
“It's okay, Y/N,” he whispered. “It’s okay...”
But it wasn’t okay… it was far from okay.
Sebastian Vettel was here, once again, standing in front of you, and possibly back in your life. The boy you once considered your best friend, the best friend you fell in love with, the driver you always supported, and most importantly, the father of your child, was back in your life in such an unexpected way that it still felt surreal.
“I don’t know...” you tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. “It feels surreal that after everything, after such an empty goodbye, here we are, together again,” you confessed. “It’s weird seeing you in front of me in the flesh and not as pixels on a screen.”
“Y/N…”
“I’ve missed you, Seb. So much.”
You knew your honesty didn’t catch him by surprise, because he felt the same way. That’s what hurt the most.
“I missed you too, Y/N. I really did...” he said after a moment, wrapping his arms around you, and you pressed your face against his chest.
“Seb…”
“Don’t overthink it, really,” he interrupted gently. “I’m not here to talk about the past or blame anyone,” he paused, letting out a breath before continuing. “I just want us to go back to who we were before we were together. But, if I’m being honest, we’ve been in love with each other for so long that I can’t remember a time when you weren’t my everything.”
Your lips trembled. The weight of his words was too much for you to handle, at least today, in a first encounter where you haven’t even spent ten minutes together.
You felt awful. You felt shattered inside knowing that if you were in this situation, it was because of you.
“Well, Y/N, tell me…”
“No, no,” you quickly interrupted, grabbing his arm and guiding him to sit on the couch. Immediately after, you rushed to the kitchen to grab the drinks and snacks you spent all morning preparing. “You tell me first. Even though I’ve seen you on TV, I know you’re very private about your life, you know... You never share anything with the media, and well, you don’t even have social media so… How are you?”
He let out a short laugh as he picked up a bottle of water and a cheese-and-salmon toast.
“Well, to be honest, I’m doing much better than when you left me,” he revealed. It didn’t surprise you. After all, it was what you expected him to say. “You must have had your reasons for breaking up with me, and after all these years, I’m not going to ask why you did it. But I won’t lie to you… you left me shattered, Y/N.”
“Seb, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“I know,” he cut in softly, making a gentle gesture with his hand to calm you down. “Like I said, I’m not looking for an explanation or an apology. I just want you to know how I felt. Mentally… damn, Y/N, you broke me, and I completely lost myself, but at the same time, that’s what gave me the strength to win the championship in 2013,” he looked away from your eyes, shifting his gaze to the wall. Nervously, he started playing with his fingers. “All I could think about was you and that, maybe, there was a chance you were watching...”
“Of course I was, Seb,” you said softly, trying to hold back the tears and keep your composure. “No matter what happened, I never stopped watching or supporting you. I’ve always been, and will always be, your number one fan.”
He nodded, a bittersweet expression crossing his face.
“That year, everything I did was with the thought in mind that you were watching and, somehow, it helped me move forward. But… 2014 was when everything fell apart,” he admitted. “Red Bull wasn’t the same anymore, or at least, I didn’t feel the same way. I wasn’t winning, Daniel was beating me… I felt like I had lost everything, including you and, with time, I started to feel like I had no reason to stay with the team or maybe even in Formula 1. Until Ferrari offered me the contract.”
You remembered it like it was yesterday. Unlike any regular sports fan, you found out through Heike when you were out for a walk with Emily.
“When I was given the chance to sign with Ferrari in 2015... Y/N, really, that’s when I realized it wasn’t the end. That’s what I needed to move forward. I think I mentioned it to you on WhatsApp, but I don’t know if you remember…”
You swallowed hard. Of course, you remembered. He told you just before the news became public, before his mum told you, but you didn’t know how to answer him or if you really should do it. The demons in your head made you think it was a joke, even just an excuse to get closer to you. And you also felt that if he did sign with Ferrari, it would open a door you had closed because you weren’t ready to face the truth.
Just like you were doing now.
“I remember, yes,” you murmured, unable to look him in the eyes.
“When I didn’t get a reply from you I decided not to push it. That’s when I realized you didn’t want anything to do with me. Yet I kept sending you stuff as you might know…”
“That’s not it…” You could barely speak. You were as broken as he was. “I read the message, Seb, but… I burst into tears and didn’t have the strength to reply. I didn’t want to give you false hope when I wasn’t ready to… I didn’t want to hurt you more than I already had,” you confessed. “I knew that if I spoke to you again, I’d hurt you again. And I’d hurt myself too. I couldn’t do that to you, Seb.”
He nodded, looking for some kind of affirmation in your gaze.
“At first, I felt really out of place on the team, you know? And I felt that way for a long time,” he revealed. “It was completely out of my comfort zone, and I felt like I’d never fit in. But little by little, Kimi, Maurizio, and the team made me feel like family. It’s strange to think about it now, but I can’t imagine being with any team other than Ferrari.” You agreed with him, from what you had seen on TV, it was clear he felt that way. “Fighting for the world title with them this year and having a real shot at beating Mercedes… I never thought I’d get to this point.”
You looked at him with a mix of admiration and nostalgia. This was the Seb you knew, the Seb with ambition, who always desired more and more. The Seb who never gave up.
The Seb who didn’t break down, even when he had every reason to.
“I’m so proud of you, Seb. I’ve always been, and I always will be. Don’t forget that.”
“Of course, Y/N,” he looked uncomfortable. Quite a bit, actually. “Well… enough about me. You know I don’t like talking about myself… What about you? What have you been up to all this time? My mom told me a bit, and I’ve seen you a few times, but…”
More than not knowing what to say, you sensed he didn’t want to intrude too much into your life.
You swallowed, trying not to get more nervous than you already were, because now, you supposed, was the moment to tell him about Emily.
“Well, not much has changed, really,” you started, unsure of what to say. “I’ve been in Heppenheim the whole time, except for a couple of trips to Berlin, but nothing unusual,” you tried to smile, but your mind kept circling around the fact that you had to tell him you had a daughter. “I’ve been working at the bar and writing music. To be honest, since we broke up I’ve had a lot more inspiration.”
And since I gave birth to Emily, you thought.
Seb didn’t say anything. You figured he understood. After all, he had thrown himself into his career to cope, while you had poured your emotions into writing songs about the story you shared to cope with grief.
“Now things have changed a bit,” you continued, trying to sound more upbeat to push away the painful memories. “Ever since Red went viral… I swear, I uploaded it without expecting anything, but the reaction…”
“The song is amazing, Y/N. Of course it went viral.”
“I’ve been offered a record deal,” you blurted out. “A few years ago, I met Niall Horan at the bar. You know, the guy who was on that band, One Direction…” Seb nodded, his eyes wide, encouraging you to continue. “He told me he was traveling to find some inspiration for his solo career, and I guess Heppenheim seemed like a good place for him to visit.”
“Wait, wait… a record deal?”
“Apparently, Niall told his label that I was the voice behind Red, and, well… Capital Records offered me a contract,” you explained. “They called me to have a meeting in London, which is why we couldn’t meet up last time…”
His face was calm, unreadable, though his mouth had curved into a big smile. He didn’t seem surprised, and you knew there was a strong chance Hanna had told him everything.
If that was true…
“I hope you accepted, Y/N.”
“Well… actually, I didn’t. I turned it down.”
His smile faded for a moment, and his expression became completely serious.
“You turned it down? Why? Sunshine, this is an opportunity…”
“Yes, I know it’s an amazing opportunity, but I can’t accept it. Not right now.”
You figured this was the moment you should tell him the real reason behind rejecting such a big deal, which included a tour if you sold a certain amount of CDs.
Sebastian kept staring at you, which only made you more nervous. You tried to gather your thoughts, searching for the right way to tell him you had a four-year-old daughter, but you couldn’t find the moment.
You couldn’t just drop it on him now, after all, this was your first real conversation in almost five years.
“Y/N, darling…”
“I can’t take the risk when the only thing I’ve managed is to get one song out of all the ones I sent to the label to go viral,” you half-lied. It was true that you didn’t want to talk about it yet, but you were also insecure about your music. “As much as I’d love to have an album, to fill stadiums and have people singing along to my songs, I can’t take that risk.”
“But, Y/N…”
“I’m not sure all the songs on the album would be successful, Seb.”
“Y/N, you have no idea what you’re going to regret if you let this go....”
“No, Seb, I know exactly what I’m doing, really,” you shook your head, firm in your decision. “This is the best thing for me.”
And for Emily too, though you didn’t say that out loud.
Seb remained silent for longer than you would have liked, as if trying to process what you’d just told him. Then, he stood up, crouching down to your level, and taking your hands in his, he said:
“Alright. If you think your songs aren’t good enough, sing one of them to me.”
“What?” you asked, confused.
“If you turned down the record deal because you think your songs aren’t good enough for the world to hear, sing one of them to me.”
His tone, though calm, was direct and insistent.
“Seb… I can’t. I’m too embarrassed,” you laughed nervously.
“Come on, Y/N,” he said, gently rubbing your hands with his thumbs, just like he always did when your anxiety was at its worst. “It’s just me. I’m still the same after all these years.”
You sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to let it go until you gave in. It was Seb, and he always got what he wanted from you, even when you didn’t want to. In the end, you gave in, carefully standing up from the couch and heading towards the piano at the back of the room, gesturing for him to follow you.
You carefully slided the bench back, lifting the lid as you sat down. You positioned your hands, starting to play the first few chords to warm up, ensuring your memory flawlessly recalled the piece.
“This is song number 5, like your driver number... It's called loml.”
You continued playing, finally giving way to the song.
Who's gonna stop us from waltzing Back into rekindled flames? If we know the steps anyway We embroidered the memories Of the time I was away Stitching, ‘We were just kids, babe.’ I said, ‘I don't mind, it takes time.’ I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed I felt aglow like this Never before and never since.
Your voice shook as you began to sing, but you kept going, holding on to what your ex-boyfriend had told you about how he knew it was about him. As you settled into the song, you started feeling more comfortable, just like you did when you used to sing for Seb. Though you couldn’t look at him because you were absorbed in the key, your fingers delicately moving over it, you could feel his eyes on you.
You shit-talked me under the table Talking rings and talking cradles I wish I could un-recall How we almost had it all Dancing phantoms on the terrace Are they second-hand embarrassed That I can't get out of bed? Cause something counterfeit's dead.
Tears started falling from your eyes as you approached the final part of the song. Memories of your shared history flashed through your mind like a movie. Your vision was completely blurred, and you felt a tightness in your chest that was overwhelming, making it hard to breathe, almost impossible to keep singing. Somehow, though, you fought to hold it together, just as you did the day you said goodbye to the man now sitting beside you.
Oh, what a valiant roar What a bland goodbye The coward claimed he was a lion I'm combing through the braids of lies ‘I’ll never leave’... ‘Never mind.’ Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire Your arson matches your somber eyes And I'll still see it until I die You're the loss of my life.
Silence filled the room as you played the final notes. With your hands still resting on the keyboard, you looked at Seb. Once again, you didn’t know what to say to him, and you knew he didn't either. He was motionless, running a hand through his hair, probably trying to process what he just heard.
Y/Ni, this song... it’s about us, isn’t it?”
“It might be,” you admited, unable to lie to him, at least not about this.
He sighed. You could tell he was affected; you knew it the moment his tears began to form, just as yours continued to flow.
“You should rethink the contract,” he said firmly. “This song deserves to be heard by more than just me, your parents, and Hanna.”
“I can’t, Seb. I just can’t…”
“Can I sit next to you?”
You looked up and saw him gesturing to the bench. Confused, not sure what to do or say, you shifted a little, making space, and he sat beside you. Seb didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you, offering a comfort that felt wonderful but also caused you to crumble a bit more inside.
You surprised yourself by resting your head on his shoulder.
“Why are you so determined to convince yourself you don’t deserve this opportunity?” His tone was soft, just like the way he stroked your hair. “Do you really think you're not good enough to be a successful singer?”
“It’s not about being good enough, it’s that I’m not,” you whisper,ed your throat tightening. “I’m not a good person, Seb, and it’s only a matter of time before I screw up again and hurt someone, just like I hurt you.”
“Does this… have something to do with the second date in your YouTube channel username?”
You stood your head up, staring at him in confusion while trying not to panic.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your username,” he repeated, moving closer. “I figured out that the numbers represent two dates. I know for sure that one of them is June 15, 2006, the day we started dating, but the other one… I don’t know what January 12, 2014 means for you because we weren’t talking by then, but it must be important. And based on what you just said…”
Your eyes widened in shock. You were paralyzed, not knowing how to react.
How could he have noticed something so… insignificant? How had he connected the dots and figured out the dates you had in mind when you created that account?
You thought this would be the perfect moment to tell him that the second date marks the birth of your daughter, the daughter you had together; that on that day, while you were in labor, he was at the hospital waiting for some exams results and he was talking to your dad, who couldn’t contain his excitement about his granddaughter’s arrival and had to keep it a secret from him.
But you couldn’t. Not yet. You need to regain his trust first. You and Seb needed to rebuild the kind of relationship you had before you became the love of each other’s lives.
“Seb…” you trailed off, unable to continue. “I swear, on everything that matters to you, I’ll tell you, but right now… I just can’t.”
He looked at you for a few seconds that felt like an eternity. You knew him better than you knew yourself, and you knew he was persistent, that he needed an answer, but you also knew he was respectful and wouldn't push you.
“That’s okay,” he said finally, a bit resigned. “I understand, it’s fine. I’m not asking you to tell me now if you’re not ready, but I want you to know that when you are, I’ll be here to listen.”
You looked at him, grateful, and nodded without saying anything else.
You both sat at the piano bench for a while, in silence, listening only to the sound of your breathing and the melody of the song replaying in your mind, as intrusive thoughts overwhelmed you.
“If I waited almost 19 years of my life to be your boyfriend, I can wait a little longer, it doesn’t matter the time you need, for you to tell me,” Seb finally spoke, and his words broke you a little more than you already were. “Let’s be friends again, what do you think?” he offered, giving you a small smile. “Let’s take things slowly, like maybe we should have done when we first started dating. You know…”
“Slowly, no problem,” you repeated, smiling back at him.
You felt a weight lift from your shoulders at his words. Maybe you were not at the peak of your relationship, and maybe you’d never got back there, but at least you were working together to turn your story into something new.
“You know what, Y/N? I’ve always felt like our story wasn’t over. I don’t just mean that romantically, but in a broader sense,” he said quickly. “We have a whole lot of history, and now is when we’re going to start writing our second book.”
“I know, Seb. I’ve been thinking the same thing ever since I said goodbye to you,” you confess. “That day, goodbyes were bittersweet, but I knew it wasn’t the end and that I’d see you again.”
Before the year ends. I’m telling Seb Emily is her daughter before December 31st.
#formula 1#f1#sebastian vettel#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#formula 1 angst#sebastian vettel one shot#sebastian vettel x y/n#sebastian vettel imagine#sebastian vettel fanfic#sebastian vettel angst#ferrari#sebastian vettel fic#formula 1 imagine#max verstappen x reader#f1 imagine#sebastian vettel f1#sebastian vettel x female reader#sebastian vettel x you#ferrari f1#ferrari seb#goodbyes are bittersweet series
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Golden ││ Levi ││
thank you for sending in this request :)
pairing: levi x f. reader
genre: established relationship, smut 18+
summary: Mammon poured all of the Golden Hellfire Newt Syrup into the soup, and now Levi wants you to stay as far away from him as possible. Do you listen? Of course not!
wc: 2.3k
warnings: spoilers ahead! ch. 21-ch. 22, dialogue from the OG game to set the scene, also yes, the banner has honey but I couldn't find gold syrup, insecurity (levi), levi is somewhat still under the influence of the syrup, making out, grinding, handjob, oral sex, hickeys, jealousy, cock slapping, degradation, demon!levi, facial, cum eating, levi uses his tail to keep your hands together
date: August 16, 2024
“Listen, love… Whatever you do, stay away from my room!” Levi explains, his cheeks flushing pink. “You got that?! Stay away!”
Levi’s words circle your mind as you leave Asmo’s bedroom after being interrupted by Lucifer. When did you become a delivery person for the House of Lamentation anyway?
Lucifer takes his leave after walking you to Levi’s bedroom, and you focus on Levi’s secret phrase, getting it correctly on the first try. After some praise from the third eldest, he allows you to enter his bedroom.
Levi stands nervously in front of you, his hands tucked in his pants pockets, eyes wide as he exclaims, “Ah, but wait! Stop right there!”
You come to a stop, surprised at the volume of his voice as the door shuts behind you, automatically locking to keep his brothers out.
“Don’t move! Not another step!” Levi shouts, covering his blushing face with his hand. Oh, no what was he going to do with you so close? Your sweet scent was already making his head spin, and the thoughts that ran through his head were anything but innocent.
“What if the Gold Hellfire Newt Syrup kicks in, huh? Wh-What then?” he stutters, cheeks aflame. He’s so nervous, so embarrassed, and blurts, “Like, I might lose control of myself and just… make a move on you!”
You’re silent as you approach him, wanting to ease his worries but he places his hand over his cheeks briefly, trying to hide his embarrassment.
“Listen to me. Don’t come any closer, okay? No closer!” He warns as you set the package from Akuzon aside and take a few more steps toward him. You should listen to him, or perhaps leave but your first instinct is to offer comfort. You’ve been away from him for so long. You missed him dearly, and you just want to make everything better.
“What if I s-start acting like Asmo, all l-lewd and taken over by lust and…” Levi shakes his head furiously. The idea of acting like the Avatar of Lust makes his heart race. He would never be able to deal with the absolute humiliation it would cause when he comes to his senses.
“Aaaaaaah! I don’t even want to think about it!” Levi seems to go through all seven stages of grief as you remain silent in front of him. You want to reach out to him but you’re afraid it may make things worse.
Perhaps you should heed his advice and head to your bedroom.
“I trust you, Levi,” you tell him sincerely when he finally settles long enough for you to get a word in.
“Love, I know you’re probably just saying that to make me feel better. Still, even if you don’t really mean it, I appreciate it.” Levi nods solemnly. “I sort of don’t trust myself right now…”
You give Levi space as he paces back and forth in his bedroom. Everyone has been affected by the syrup so differently but Levi seems to be most flustered by it. Perhaps since he knew from the start what it could do, what it meant for you.
“I mean, it’s not like you came back here to see me. Pfft, as if! Why would someone be interested in some otaku who hides in his room all day? You probably think I’m gross!” Levi rants as he tugs at his hair, and your heart sinks.
You hated that he talked so negatively about himself, especially when you loved him so, just as he was. If only he could see himself like you saw him; if he knew that your love was true, that it was pure.
There would be battles Levi would have to face himself, like his self-image and insecurities, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t stand beside him through it all. You wanted to ease his worries and know that he was who you wanted and loved with all your heart.
“You should know, I actually missed you!” You state truthfully. You spent a lot of your time thinking about him, wondering if he was getting enough sleep, and having his meals, and hoping Mammon would ease off him a bit.
“As if you’d actually miss seeing me, pfft!” Levi immediately retorts with a snort. However before you can assure him, he crosses the distance between you, throwing his arms around you. Finally!
He apologizes, pink cheeks warm under the palms of your hands as you cup his face.
“It’s like my body’s moving on its own…” he whispers confused. “Oh, no. Oh, no. This isn’t like me! Love, give me an order!”
You’re startled by his volume, panic clear in his tone as he tries to hold back his urges.
“It doesn’t matter what it is!” He shouts. “Just tell me to do something, quick!”
“Kiss me,” you order feeling bashful.
“Why couldn’t you have made it something easier?!” Levi whines as his cheeks burn hotter under your hands. “Okay, here goes…”
Levi kisses you softly, shyly at first.
“Now suddenly all I want to do is keep going and move on to more high-level stuff…!” Levi admits, his ears now burning red. “I’ve been missing you ever since you left, you know? Every single day…”
You hold his hands in yours, admitting that you missed him as well.
“I have to make up for all of that time. And since you’re the one who ordered me to kiss you…” Levi kisses you again, taking your lead as you guide his hands to your waist. His hands shake as he grabs hold of you, moaning when your tongue slips past the seam of his lips.
“Love,” he moans as he steps back, feeling the syrup’s effects wear off somewhat. He wipes his brow, panting heavily. “I thought I was going to have a heart attack…”
You giggle, pulling him closer to you. He trips but grabs hold of your hips to steady himself.
You moan at the rough touch, kissing him before he can stutter an apology. You’ve missed him dearly and you wanted to spend time with him, everyone else be damned.
When the two of you pet for a much-needed breath, you shut off your DDD and his, wanting no interruptions when you devour him whole.
“Fuck,” you curse as his hands slide under your shirt, moving upwards slowly to cup your breasts over your bra.
You press your lips to him, nipping his bottom lip as his fingers tremble when they reach the hooks of your bra. He struggles for a moment to undo them, but he does so with ease.
“I-I’ve been practicing,” he admits with rose-tinted cheeks. “I wanted to be better for your return.”
“With who?” you raise a brow, jealousy growing inside you.
“N-no one! I-I swear!” Levi quickly responds, stuttering as cold sweat beads on his forehead. His cheeks turn bright red as he points to his desk. On the flat surface, three little bra extenders sit connected by the hooks.
You giggle as your jealousy dissipates. You coo at Levi, kissing him to ease his embarrassment. It takes him a moment to relax, his heart racing as you deepen the kiss.
Levi normally allows you to take the lead, but he’s missed you so much, and remnants of the syrup still linger in his body. Perhaps that's the bit of courage he needs to tug you towards him, his hands moving from your hips down to your ass.
“Levi,” his name escapes you in a sweet moan that makes his cock throb. He silences you with his lips, squeezing your ass before he leads you to the bathtub.
It's large enough to fit the two of you comfortably.
You waste no time straddling him, your hands grip his hair to give it a firm tug. Your name rolls off his tongue in a wanton moan that makes you pulsate.
Levi nips your bottom lip as his hands move to your shirt, tugging on it until you raise your arms over your head. He takes it off you and tosses it somewhere in his bedroom.
Slowly, Levi kisses his way down to your neck, biting and sucking to leave his mark behind. He groans when your fingers weave through his hair, gently tugging as his face settles between your breasts.
Levi’s tongue is hot against your skin as he licks one breast and then the other.
“I-I’ve missed you so much,” he stutters with a tiny smile before he takes one pert nipple into his mouth. His nails drag down your sides, his hips rising to meet yours as you unbutton your pants.
“Levi,” you breathe as you hold him to your chest, rolling your hips against his. Levi curses, his demon form threatening to come out if things continue to heat up. You’d think he’d have better control over it by now.
Your hands make quick work of his clothes before you strip down to your panties. The two of you pant as you look at each other; cheeks flush, and bashful smiles.
“Lie down,” You demand as you push Levi down by his broad shoulders. He was ripped, something that made you drool.
Levi eyes you shyly as you kiss him again, moaning softly before you trail kisses down his chest. Your tongue runs over his abs, leaving little marks on his skin as you palm his cock over his boxers.
“Fuck, baby,” Levi groans as his eyes flutter shut, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him as you tug his boxers down his thighs.
Levi covers his mouth with his hand. Your eyes sparkle when you see his thick cock. You wrap your hand around him, spitting on the head.
Levi’s sure he’s going to bust before you even get his dick in your pretty little mouth.
A surge of confidence fills him for a moment, encouraged by the hungry look in your eye. Levi wraps his hand around his cock, spreading your spit up and down his length. Your eyes follow his movements closely, nearly drooling as you move your face closer to it.
You ignore the slight ache on your knees as you press your hands to your thighs, feeling your panties grow wetter by the second.
Levi presses the head of his cock to your lips. You kiss it, swirling your tongue around it after. Chuckling, Levi shakes his head.
“Show me your tongue,” he commands, and you do so eagerly. Levi praises you, smacking his cock on your tongue a few times before rewarding you with his length.
You suck his dick, flicking your tongue on the underside before teasing the slit. Levi curses. His eyes squeeze shut as you take him further into your mouth, only pulling off when you gag and gasp for breath.
Levi watches as you lick up one side of his cock and down the other, rolling his balls in your hand before moving downward and taking them in your mouth.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he groans as you bob up and down on his length. He hits the back of your throat and sees stars.
You don’t ease up, sucking, slurping, kissing, licking as he threads his fingers in your hair. Levi is filled with pleasure, feeling euphoric as you choke on his cock like the little slut you are.
You have one hand rubbing between your legs, and the other grips Levi’s thigh to support yourself as you continue to suck his cock and balls. He’s a mess of salvia and precum but you seem unbothered as you pop off him to catch a breath.
Levi strokes your hair with one hand. The other he uses to slap his cock on your cheek until you open your mouth to welcome him in once more.
“Just like that, baby. You look so cute sucking my fat cock,” he smirks as his body grows hotter, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as you choke on him once more.
Levi moans your name, warning you that he’s about to cum but you continue to suck him off, ignoring the ache in your jaw.
You take him deep in your mouth, your nose pressed to his pelvis as you meet his gaze. You feel something wrap around your calf, realizing Levi has released his demon form as he loses control of himself. His tail is wrapped around you, needing to feel you close as you swallow around him, causing him to nearly growl before he pulls out of your mouth.
“You’re mine,” he grunts as he strokes his cock. You nod, agreeing wholeheartedly as you feel the warmth of his release land on your cheek, lips, and chin.
Levi groans as he finishes, milking every last drop of cum from his cock.
You giggle as you stare up at him.
Levi kisses you, tasting himself on your lips and tongue.
“Let’s take care of you, okay?” he asks as he uses two fingers to swipe the cum off your cheek, pressing it to your lips. You welcome his fingers into your mouth eagerly, licking and sucking them clean as he smirks.
“Can’t help yourself, huh? Such a cum-hungry slut,” Levi chuckles before he kisses you again. You tug his bottom lip, making him whine before you release him.
Levi licks the cum off your chin, giggling at the surprised look that crosses your face.
Without another word, Levi has you underneath him in the tub. Your hands are pinned in front of you, held together by his tail before he settles between your legs, placing each one on his shoulders.
“Levi!” you exclaim when he tugs you towards him, his tongue running up your wet folds.
“You’ve had your fun, love. Now it’s my turn,” Levi grins as he licks his lips, tasting you on them. You’re excited to see this side of Levi, though you’re not sure how much of a role the Golden Hellfire Newt Syrup will play in your relationship in the future, you’d enjoy Levi’s confidence while it lasts.
Who knows, perhaps you’d venture into it again.
© devildomcuties - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms.
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Tongue Tied
After not being able to speak to Penelope at the Innovations Ball, Colin ponders why he suddenly got tongue tied.
My submission for Polinween Week 1, 2024 - 'I Put a Spell on You'
Rating: General
TONGUE TIED
He was cursed.
He must be. It was the only explanation.
He’d wager it was that Debling fellow. He’d clearly picked up some kind of magical trinket on his many travels and decided to use it against him.
The aggravatingly self-satisfied way the Lord had looked at him when he’d claimed Penelope’s hand for their dance all but confirmed it surely?
Colin knew there were many strange things in the world that couldn’t be easily explained away. He’d seen many a baffling sight while on his tours around the Continent.
Debling had been far further afield than he, so it was logical that he had experienced even more.
Yes, that must be it, he decided.
For there was no other reasoning as to why his words had suddenly left him in that way. Leaving him looking like a stuttering imbecile who couldn’t even speak to his dearest friend.
And Penelope was dear to him.
So very, very dear.
He let out a frustrated groan and sat down heavily on the edge of his bed. Leaning forward, he put his head in his hands. Mortification spiralled through him, bringing heat to his face as he recalled just how awkward he’d been earlier.
Truly, he’d acted like a young whippersnapper in his first throes of a boyhood crush. He’d never had words fail him like that before. He always had a ready quip or charming platitude and yet, when it finally meant something, he’d come up wanting.
With a huff of irritation he stood, arms falling to his sides as he began to pace about his room. He’d never felt this helpless, this…useless before.
He hated it.
It had been so clear in his mind what he’d wanted to say, but once he’d stood in front of her, all he could do was stare. It was as though that unforgettably, incredible kiss they’d shared weeks ago had completely removed his ability to function around her in any meaningful way whatsoever.
He paused and frowned.
Come to think of it, maybe it was Penelope that had cursed him.
He shook his head. No, not cursed.
Enchanted.
Beguiled.
Bewitched.
One kiss and he’d been utterly and irrevocably hers.
It had stunned him at first, just how quickly everything within him had shifted. Like a puzzle box clicking into its final place before opening up to reveal what had been hidden there the entire time if only he’d had the sense and foresight to truly look.
It felt like he’d wasted years not recognising what had been in front of him this entire time.
And now, just when he’d finally seen her, Penelope was interested in another.
He ran a hand through his hair in agitation, pulling on the ends, relishing the slight sting of pain. It diverted him from the near constant ache in his heart.
Was this love then?
Having Penelope consume his every thought day and night?
Having this constant urge to see her, to touch her, kiss her…just be with her.
It seemed that love itself was a spell. An invisible, magical aura that weaved itself around the heart and wrenched every single emotion from a person until they were feeling quite mad with it.
Well, that’s how it felt to him at least. Especially as he had no notion as to whether Penelope even regarded him as anything else other than a friend.
It was what he’d hoped to determine this evening after speaking to his mother. When she’d told him of his father gathering his courage, he knew he had to do the same.
But that was before he’d stood there enthralled with her beauty.
Before he’d become tongue tied with fear that she might reject him.
Before Debling had intruded and he’d watched mutely, painfully, as she’d taken the other gentleman’s proffered hand.
He shook his head. He didn’t consider himself a violent man but, for a moment there, he could have gladly wiped that supercilious expression from the Lord’s face with his bare hands.
But he hadn’t. He’d just stood and forced himself to watch them. Tried to act as if every single second wasn’t absolute torture for him.
And when she’d smiled at Debling…that had been like a knife directly into his heart.
He took in a deep breath and let out a long, shuddering exhale. He could still feel the pain of it now, hours after he’d left the ball. It had been there when he’d bid Pen a stilted goodnight upon leaving. It had been there while he’d pasted an overly bright smile on his face during the carriage ride home with his family and he feared it was going to be there for a long time to come.
Especially if he couldn’t find the bravery to confess his feelings to her.
His hand twitched and he felt a sudden urge to write. Maybe if he put down in ink what he needed to say, then perhaps the pain would ease – if only for tonight.
He hurried out of his room and into the study then sat down behind the desk. Grabbing a sheet of paper, he smoothed it out in front of him and dipped his quill into the ink. With a flourish he began to write, then stopped moments later with a groan and tore the paper to shreds. Thrice more he tried, yet nothing seemed right. It was either too flowery or too blunt or…just not right.
Something simple and concise that conveyed all he felt was what was needed. He thought for a moment more, then it came to him. Once done, he folded the paper and placed it into the desk drawer for safe keeping.
He would decide tomorrow if he would ever give it to her, but in the meantime it appeared to have done the trick. He felt a little lighter…and overwhelmingly fatigued.
Checking the time, he saw that it was the early hours of the morning. He headed back to his bed chamber and lay down on top of his bed, not even bothering to undress.
Sleep claimed him quickly, for which he was grateful, because in his dreams Penelope always awaited him, loving him equally in return.
The next day dawned brightly with sun shining and blue skies without a cloud to be seen.
Penelope has just finished her morning cup of tea when Varley entered the drawing room holding a letter.
Portia looked up expectantly, but the housekeeper handed it over to her daughter instead.
“For you, Miss.”
“Oh, thank you,” she replied in surprise.
Not recognising the writing on the front, she broke the seal and out fluttered a folded sheet of paper. Curiously, she opened it up and read the short missive;
“My dearest Penelope,
Long have I loved, but some strange spell forbids my heart its tale to tell.
Here, take this letter and simply feel, the love my lips cannot reveal.
Yours always,
Colin”
Penelope gave a little gasp, immediately drawing her mother’s attention.
“What is it? Does Lord Debling write to you?” she enquired with a hopeful smile. “He did seem quite taken with you last night. I think he might offer for you soon, Penelope, if you are lucky.”
“Uh…no, mama, it is not from Lord Debling,” her daughter admitted falteringly, still trying to take in the enormity of the letter’s contents. She summoned a weak smile and folded the note before adding, “It is from Madame Delacroix. She has my new dress ready earlier than I had expected.” She stood abruptly, the china cup rattling in its saucer as she bumped into the table in her haste. “I must – uh – g-go and see her to collect it.”
Portia watched Penelope almost run out of the door and shook her head in bewilderment.
“Another new dress?” the woman muttered to herself. “At this rate she shall have no more pin money left.”
Penelope went into her bed chamber and shut the door behind her with a slam. Breathing heavily, she leaned back against the wooden frame and quickly opened the letter once more. She read and re-read his words, her heart skittering in her chest as her world tilted on its axis.
Colin loved her?
Truly?
Colin Bridgerton?
After years and years of loving him from afar, she could hardly believe it but there it was, his words, written in his hand. She let out a little laugh and clapped a hand to her mouth as she blinked back tears of joy.
She needed to see him. To look into his eyes and know it was really true.
She picked up her shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders then left her room and headed downstairs. After telling Varley that she would be back later, she exited the house, maid in tow and letter still tightly gripped in her hand.
Soon she knocked on the door of Bridgerton House and asked her maid to wait while she was shown directly to the drawing room just as she used to be. Belatedly, she felt a dart of apprehension that she might see Eloise, but to her relief, and a little disappointment, Violet was the only one present.
“Penelope, it is good to see you,” the older lady greeted warmly. She put down the needlework she had been doing and rose to give the redhead a hug. “Are you here to see Eloise? Have you two mended whatever ailed you these past months?” she asked hopefully.
Penelope cleared her throat and shook her head, suddenly realising how wildly inappropriate it had been for her to visit. Not only unannounced, but also to see her ‘eligible male friend’ with whom she’d already caused their families more than enough gossip around the Ton.
“No, forgive me, I-I was hoping to find Colin at home but I see he is not, so I’ll just take my leave,” she said in a rush, feeling decidedly uncomfortable.
“There is no need for that, my dear, he is just outside in the garden,” Violet told her helpfully as she darted a quick glance down at the paper Penelope held onto tightly. Smiling, she put her arm around the girl and led her out of the room. “Come, I’ll help you find him.”
“Oh, no, I…”
“It is no trouble I assure you and I am certain that Colin will be very pleased to see you,” Violet interjected decisively.
The man in question was sat slumped in a chair by a table, staring off into the distance. It was only when his mother called out to him that he turned, his eyes widening as he saw who was with her. He immediately stood and tugged his waistcoat down as he gave the ladies a small bow.
“I shall see about some refreshments for you both,” Violet announced before turning away with a knowing smile and heading back inside.
Colin glanced at the footman standing nearby then turned his attention back to his love, his gaze warming as he took in her appearance this fine morning.
She really was quite beautiful, he thought as his eyes drifted down admiringly over her form before suddenly flicking back up to her hands.
Hands that were unfolding a piece of paper that she was now holding out towards him.
“Is this what you were trying to tell me last night?”
The words were soft, barely above a whisper but he heard them as clearly as if she’d spoken them directly into his ear.
His stomach lurched.
It was his letter.
His mind raced as he tried to fathom how it came to be in her possession. He was certain he had hidden it away. It should be impossible. It was impossible, was it not? And yet there she stood, holding it in her hands. His thoughts, his feelings for her, reduced to a few lines that barely did the depth of his affection justice, scribbled down on a piece of paper.
“Colin?”
His name jolted him and his gaze snapped up to meet her cerulean eyes. They were swirling with a regard that he was accustomed to and it suddenly gave him pause. She had always looked at him like that he realised. A mixture of warmth and hope and longing and…and…
“I…”
He shook his head slightly, still staring at her. He dared not put a name to that emotion in case he was wrong. He couldn’t bear it.
“It wasn’t?” she asked, confusion colouring her tone. Abruptly, a red hue flooded her cheeks and she started to back away, looking anywhere but at him. “Oh, forgive me…”
Without thinking he reached out to take both of her hands in his, the paper scrunching up under his firm grasp. Penelope froze and glanced down, then back up to give him a searching look. He stared deep into her eyes, hoping to convey even a little of what he felt because he knew that this was the moment that everything between them would change.
He just very much hoped that it would be for the better.
Taking a steadying breath, he nodded and a small smile touched his lips as he told her emphatically, “Pen, of course that letter is what I wanted to say to you last night. In fact, it is what I have wanted to say to you for weeks now.”
“Is it?”
She sounded doubtful, her gaze still searching his for the truth and he couldn’t blame her. Not so long ago he was helping her to find a husband. A husband that decidedly wasn’t him and now the thought of anyone else fulfilling that role made him feel quite murderous.
“It is,” he assured her again, willing her to believe him.
After a moment, she gave him a tentative smile.
“I never thought you’d see me as anything more than your friend,” she admitted quietly.
“And you wished to be?” he asked, staring at her intently, hardly daring to hope that she might return his feelings. “More than friends, I mean?”
Penelope nodded, her smile growing surer.
“So much more,” she replied emotionally.
It took a few seconds for her words to sink in, but when they did, Colin raised her hands to his lips and kissed them ardently on the back.
“I wish to kiss you properly,” he breathed, his gaze dipping briefly to her parted lips as he took a small step closer, “But not here where anyone can see.”
“Perhaps a turn around the garden then?” Penelope suggested eagerly, glancing over at the footman who was stoically keeping his eyes averted from the young couple.
Colin nodded then let go of her hands and held out his arm to her with a bright smile upon his face. Penelope grinned back then quickly slipped her arm through his and they set off looking for a more secluded part.
Once in the shade of a large, copper beech tree, out of sight of prying eyes, he pulled her close and gently cupped her cheek before kissing her deeply on the lips.
“I love you,” he declared earnestly when they finally parted.
“And I love you, Colin,” she told him fervently, elated that she could finally say those words to him after all her years of yearning.
Colin laughed with happiness then pulled her in for another kiss.
He had no idea how Penelope had come to have his letter that day. Be it by supernatural forces or, as he firmly suspected, something a little closer to home, he was just grateful that he no longer had to hide how he truly felt about the beautiful woman in his arms.
#polin#polin fanfiction#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton season 3#colin bridgerton#penelope featherington#colin x penelope#light angst#romance#canon divergent au#polinween2024w1
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Mystictober Day 11
Mystictober 2024 | Day 11: Doll/Heart
Ray's hand was oh-so-very-gentle as he cradled your face in his hands. It was difficult to apply the right amount of blush to your delicate lips, he had to remove his gloves and dabble on gloss by using his index finger, but you didn't seem to mind. There was a faraway look in your eyes as you stared into the vanity mirror he picked out just for you!
"I'm sorry I haven't been able to stay with you for long the last couple of days, sweetness," he brushed his lips against the side of your head. "But, our mission is finally coming to a close. I've ensured our victory, and that means I've ensured our future. Nobody's going to get in the way of our love ever again. You won't have to worry about being taken away from me by some filthy liar."
You heard his words but there was no way of knowing if you fully comprehended them. He hated to see you so lost, like a little lamb who needed their shepherd to guide them home, but it was for the best. He didn't want you to worry about anything anymore, and the only way to ease your thoughts… was to mute them.
A little bit of elixir... not too much... just enough to keep you calm and satisfied. He made a blend that wasn't like the slop the believers had to take. It was sweet, sweet enough to cut through any of the pain in your throat, and he cut it down by feeding it to you with a kiss... then another kiss... and then another kiss...!
You enjoyed it.
He knew you did.
The only thing he knew you didn't like was the fact that he had to leave you alone when he needed to take care of his work. It wasn't like he left you with nothing to do when you were alone. You could play a game, you could reward yourself with sweets, you could rest, and you could admire your reflection. You had the most perfect dollhouse all to yourself! He didn’t have to worry about you, even though he would regardless, simply because you had everything you could ever need.
The Savior let him decorate your room to his hearts content after he brought over the first two RFA members with ease, and with every new believer he handed over, he was rewarded handsomely with all the time he wanted with you. He showered you in new clothes and trinkets, looking for new ways to make your eyes light up. You loved it.
You loved being taken care of.
If you didn't like it, you would've told him long ago.
"In a few days, we'll be able to spend the rest of our together in this dollhouse, sweetness," he promised. He couldn't wait to dress you up every morning, brush your hair until it was perfect, wash your face in gentle soap, apply makeup until your eyes shined, and lavish you in a pool of love. You were his precious doll, something to coveted close to his heart, because he would never share his favorite toy with any rotten soul that wanted to take you away.
You blinked, turning your head to look at him through the haziness of your stupor, and he leaned over to kiss your lips with a tenderness to erase any protest that might crop up.
"No, no, you don't need to move a muscle. Let me pose you before you move, okay, sweetness? One wrong move and you could strain your muscles. I'm in charge, sweet doll. I know what's best for you, I know you remember accepting that," he nuzzled your cheek. "I think we should cuddle on the couch for a little while before I head to the office, mmm? It seems you're desperate to keep my attention."
#MM_mystictober2024#mystic messenger#mysme#mm#mysticmessenger#saeran choi#choi saeran#ray choi#choi ray#ray mm#ray mystic messenger#ray mysme#mysme ray#mystic messenger ray#mm ray#mod kait
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Is it bad if I request multiple times? I'm sorry!
But I was thinking about a Charlie dompler x reader were the reader is secretly like super violent when something really agrovates them. They are a slasher, like ghost face or something. And they had just found out about Charlie’s nose, and decides to visit James and repay the favour.
They were like really quiet and keeping inside how sad they were and Charlie noticed and when they where leaving he asked where they were going and they lie and say the store, so when they come back they brings his fav snacks
Lol next day Charlie sees James dead in the news paper, shhhhhhh he doesn’t know it was y/n
Pls and thank you
I might actually try this later, I have already drawn it
You’re fine, silly!! I’ve just been getting a crazy amount of requests so it takes me a while to get through them, I love it though, seeing each new request!! I’m always happy to see repeat costumers!!
Charlie x slasher reader
Tw: acts of violence and blood
Slashers had always been your favorite thing to watch. Charlie found it a bit funny how you gawked at the gory films telling you “if you wanna see real horror dude, you should go on liveleak” you just giggle
There was something always so alluring about the theatrics of it all. The style and humor in it that always entranced you, charlie never understood it but he wasn’t gonna yuck your yum
You were at home cleaning up the kitchen when you got a call from Charlie’s work saying he was in the hospital due to a work place accident. Without thought you rushed to the hospital to see him as quick as possible
When you finally got there, you were quite horrified to see a huge chunk of your boyfriend’s face completely ripped off. You quickly asked him what the fuck happened and he just said “there was a uh, interesting client today. Don’t-Don’t worry about it.”
You stayed the night with him but you couldn’t sleep, your thoughts brewed and steamed. You slept for a little bit but woke up, next to Charlie. He got released the next day and you took him home.
He could tell something was bugging you but you just told him you were fine as you got up to leave and he asked where you were going
Smiling you told him that you had some stuff to do but were going to get him some snacks and a drink. You were outraged though and quickly left for the smiling face head quarters, ready to figure out what happened
You did some snooping and possibly, probably, definitely illegal stuff but you got what you needed! You figured out who was responsible and was able to make a plan.
Once you got to James’ house it was night time, you had a knife and a Halloween mask. You felt giddy and infuriated as you broke into the house. Sneaking through you crept down the hall to a living room where James was throwing knifes at the wall haphazardly
You were a little intimidated by how big the guy was, but you craved revenge and blood. Knowing you had to quickly get the job done you attack fast. But he saw you too early and got the jump on you
It was a struggle, he punched wildly and you had to try and maneuver around him. You were too quick and you finally got him, laughing in his face as you snuffed him out
Getting out as fast as you could you left and went to a nearby gas station to pick up a few things for Charlie. Getting home you and Charlie snacked on some chips and candy while watching The Black Christmas
It wasn’t til a week later you and Charlie were getting ready for work and watching the news. When you heard a headline that made your skin crawl with satisfaction
“34 yr old James lastname was found dead in his house on may 18 2024.” The report had no witnesses, no evidence, and too many leads. You could see Charlie’s eyes widen but you had to feign ignorance
“That, that was the guy who fucking ripped off my nose. Holy shit he’s dead?” He panicked, more shocked than anything.
You acted shocked and appalled. “Jesus, I guess you weren’t the only person he’s hurt.” You gasped, putting a hand on your heart “well, good riddance I’d say. That man was a fucking psycho.” You continued, choking down laughter
Charlie shrugged and you two finished getting ready. Satisfied and peaceful.
#smiling friends#smiling friends x reader#smiling friends x reader headcanons#smiling friends headcanons#charlie dompler#smiling friends charlie#charlie dompler headcanons#smiling friends charlie headcanons#charlie dompler x reader#charlie dompler x reader headcanons#smiling friends Charlie x reader#smiling friends Charlie x reader headcanons#smiling friends charlie dompler headcanons#smiling friends Charlie dompler#smiling friends Charlie dompler x reader#smiling friends Charlie dompler x reader headcanons
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i steal a few breaths from the world for a minute
Link to this fic on AO3. Words: 2487 Date posted: November 11, 2024 Summary:
Dipper loves being a stay-at-home dad. No, seriously, he does. No buts.
I wrote this for @flxnce but I'm sure some of you will like it also.
Dipper loves being a stay-at-home dad. No, seriously, he does. No buts.
He cycled through extremely specific life plans as a teenager the way his sister cycles through sweaters, until he was eventually forced to admit that he had no idea what he wanted to do with his life. Being a professional ghost hunter was unrealistic, and he couldn’t get into the sciences the way Great Uncle Ford did.
That was something he had admired so much about Pacifica. When they started dating, he was finishing up his first year of a photography degree he still had no idea what he was going to do with while she’d had a stable job at Greasy’s for almost five years. And okay, sure, it’s not like food service was exactly her dream, but he admired that she was able to stick with something for so long—something so notoriously difficult.
And now the work that she does is so important, and he’d had to swallow some pride about that for a while, not because his wife shouldn’t do something more important than him or whatever but simply because it was hard to admit that he just didn’t know himself or the world as much as he liked to think that he did.
But then Polaris was born.
Becoming a dad before he was 25 was not exactly on Dipper’s bingo card. Really, he hadn’t thought about whether or not he wanted kids at all before Pacifica told him that she was pregnant, and she seemed so petrified that making sure she felt okay about it was his top priority. What if I’m a terrible mother? What if I’m just like my parents? I don’t know how normal people parent, she’d sobbed, and he can count on one hand the number of times he’s ever seen Pacifica in hysterics—still, even after her pregnancy—but in that moment she was definitely in hysterics.
The terror didn’t really set in for Dipper until the last month or so of her pregnancy—which was, he determined, the worst time for the terror to set in. Pacifica had started maternity leave, and somehow that connected the dots in his brain that one of them was actually going to have to stay home to take care of this kid, and he wasn’t about to ask Pacifica to give up everything. Not when she deserved so much. His work as a photographer was pretty flexible, but babies weren’t, and if he wanted to be a good dad, the baby would have to become his everything.
But that wasn’t a problem. As quickly as it had arrived, the terror dissipated entirely the first time his tiny daughter was placed in his arms, face red and scrunched up with wailing fury that she was forced to exist—which seemed fair, she wasn’t given much choice in the matter.
That was four months ago, and even as he is awake at two in the morning rocking a wailing infant against his chest and trying to get her to just latch onto her damn bottle already (which he might mutter out loud more than once) and he wants a cigarette more than anything, he still doesn’t have a single regret about becoming a stay-at-home parent.
“Kid, you’ve gotta work with me here,” he says, and immediately feels like he’s doing an impression of Grunkle Stan. Putting on a softer, more baby-appropriate voice, he continues, “If you don’t want your bottle and your diaper’s not dirty, why don’t you just go back to sleep? You were sleeping so good a week ago!”
He might be willing to call this karma for telling Mabel that she’s basically sleeping through the night if he believed in that sort of thing.
He trails from her nursery to the living room and sets the bottle down on the side table as he passes it before sinking into the couch. Well, not so much sinks into it as sort of plops down onto it and springs a little bit, since they’d finally been forced to replace that horrible 40-year-old sectional when they had to contemplate the possibility of having a baby around it.
When they’re settled into the couch, he shifts Polaris around a bit so instead of being cradled against his chest she’s sitting up in his lap facing him. She generally likes it better when she can look at whoever is holding her, and like usual, she calms down pretty quickly like this.
As watery as they are and contrasted against the red of her skin, the grey-blue color of Polaris’ eyes stands out even more than usual. Pacifica and Mabel insist that they’ll be brown in the end, but Dipper is pretty sure she got Pacifica’s blue, and the window to prove him wrong is closing.
“There we go,” he says, moving the hand that’s not bracing her back to wipe at the tears still clinging to her cheeks. “Happy now?”
She hasn’t quite started babbling yet, so she just stares back at him, which is actually fine. After fifteen straight minutes of screaming, he’s happy to sit in the quiet for a little while. That is, until he hears the door opening and keys jingling as they drop into the little dish next to the door from the back porch. “Mom’s home,” he says, but makes no effort to get up just yet.
Pacifica was supposed to be home two hours ago, but this is so far from the first time that she’s had to stay late at the hospital for some reason or other that he barely even keeps track of when she’s supposed to be home anymore. Who would have guessed that in addition to working twice as hard as doctors, nurses have to stay late twice as often?
It’s a long minute before she trails into the living room, but just when he’s about to stand up and go look for her, she walks into the room with the breast pump in one hand and a soda in the other, except the soda quickly gets dropped to the floor as she yelps in surprise, evidently startled to see him. “Jesus Christ, Dipper, it’s two in the morning. Were you just sitting here waiting for me in the dark? Creep.”
He can’t help but snort a laugh at her outrage, and he holds Polaris up over his head where she can see her. “I wish I was just being a creep. We’re on a sleep strike.”
As she stoops over to pick up the can, at least half of the contents of which have already poured all over the wood floor, she replies, “Oh, yeah? What are we striking?” An amused tone has at least managed to bleed into her voice.
“Dunno yet. Think it might still be existing.” By the time she straightens back up, he’s standing in front of her, but she’s used to this enough not to startle a second time. “Let me get you a new one of those,” he says, plucking the half-empty can out of her hand without waiting for a reply.
By the time he’s back with a can of Mountain Don’t Aught and a small handful of paper towels, she’s stolen his spot on the couch and hooked up the breast pump so it’s making its awful mechanical sucking noises—he can’t really describe it.
When the mess is cleaned up, he wads up the paper towels and tosses them into the little trashcan in the living room (because when you have a baby, there’s a little trashcan in every room, although he’s not sure how this system will hold up when she can move). “How was work?”
She groans. “How was baby duty?”
He groans back. He leans down to set Polaris on the floor for impromptu tummy time. If you’re not going to sleep then you can work, he thinks, and now he really feels like Grunkle Stan. While he looks around for a toy (literally any toy, she’s not old enough to have favorites yet) to set in front of her, he adds, “She didn’t spit up at all today, at least.”
“That’s progress!” Pacifica says. Then, when he sits on the couch next to her, she adds, “You have drool on your shirt, though.”
“What—Ugh!” Normally just drool isn’t enough to get him to take a shirt off, but he’s been wearing this one for two days anyway. Well, he thinks it’s been two days… At least two days. Pacifica checks him out appreciatively, and he rolls his eyes. “You know, you’ve seen me shirtless like a million times by now.”
“You’ve seen me shirtless like a million times by now and you still stare.”
“I’m not staring right now,” he points out, gesturing with his hand at the pump that barely obscures her bare boob.
“I know. I feel like a cow,” she whines, and he can’t help but laugh even though he knows the complaint is at least half-real.
Despite the glamorized image painted by movies and TV and Pacifica’s own social media profiles, motherhood has not been an endlessly joyful experience for Pacifica. When she’s not lamenting the baby fat she still hasn’t lost or the fact that their daughter seems to think of her primarily as a food factory, she’s wallowing in guilt and shame about the fact that she works more often than she’s home. And what is he supposed to say to that, when he’s at home with their daughter almost 24/7 and he’s her favorite person in the world save perhaps Mabel?
While he mulls that question over, Polaris rolls over onto her back to escape the dreaded tummy time, which she’s been doing a lot since she learned how to. He fixes her onto her stomach again and then finally says, “Mabel says that she’s gonna try to come down for another visit next week. I guess it’s already spring break.”
“It is so not fair that she gets a spring break when she has no kids and she loves her job more than anything while I haven’t had a day off in ten days.”
Dipper purses his lips, once again unsure of what to say. Is he supposed to point out that Mabel’s job isn’t all sunshine and rainbows either, and that she just radiates positivity because she’s Like That, capital L capital T? Or should he try suggesting that she take a sick day when she’s basically the sole breadwinner in their household and she knows it?
The breast pump turns off, and she sags against him without any warning and without fixing her shirt. He fixes it for her and then runs a hand up against the back of her neck, tucking her head under his chin. “I’m just tired, Dipper. And it’s like, it never stops, and I just want a second to breathe,” she murmurs, and her voice sounds tight. He squeezes her a little tighter.
“I know, Paz,” he mumbles against the top of her head, ghosting a kiss against her hair. “I wish I could do anything to make it better. I feel useless.”
“You’re not useless,” she says, but it sounds more begrudging than reassuring. Wait, is he doing that thing again where she complains about something and then he makes it about him? Mabel’s told him that he does that sometimes, but he was just trying to—“Hey, quit spiraling up there.”
He huffs a laugh, looking down to make eye contact where she’s peeled herself away just enough to look up at him. She’s got a little smile, though. A tiny one, but he’ll take what he can get. “Sorry, sorry. You’ve got the stage here. Vent away.”
It doesn’t take long for that little smile to crumble away, and his heart squeezes painfully. Her eyes slide away from him and toward Polaris, who has rolled onto her back again. Well, I’m not getting up right now, so I guess she can just stay that way, he thinks.
“It just feels like I’m being torn in two different directions. Like, on the one hand, I like working. Which is weird, because I never had to work for anything growing up, but the fact that I can and that I’m good at it feels so nice. But on the other hand, it’s like I’m missing everything. Is she even gonna know who I am in a year? And then it’s like… does what I’m doing even matter?”
“Okay, well, first of all, you’re not that good at it,” he teases, and she snorts and jabs a finger against his ribs. “Ah! Hey! You laughed, you’re not allowed to be mad! Those are the rules!” He grabs her wrist to stop another jab, and then it’s kind of a wrestling match. When she finally settles back into his chest, he presses another kiss against the top of her head and continues, “Of course what you’re doing matters. It matters more than anything. Almost anything,” he amends when she glares and gestures with a hand at their drooling infant. “But seriously, Pacifica, the whole hospital isn’t gonna topple down without you. You’re doing things that are important, but it’s okay to need a break. It’s okay to take a break.”
She lays there in silence for a minute, and he can practically hear the gears turning in her head. Before she can answer him, though, Polaris finally seems to realize that she’s been laying on the floor without attention for a while and starts fussing again, and he carefully peels himself away from his wife to pick her up before it can become a real cry. He doesn’t even pull a face anymore when drool smears against his bare chest. He just holds her tight while he leans over to press a third kiss against the top of Pacifica’s head and then says, “Okay, you know what we’re going to do?”
“What?” She says, already sounding skeptical.
“You are gonna go take a shower and lay down before your shift in seven hours. I am gonna try to feed this little bear her bottle again and get her back to sleep. And if you’re still awake when I manage to do that, then I’m gonna give you a manicure. How does that sound?”
She sighs and sinks a little further against the couch. “Perfect.” Then, after a second of consideration, she amends, “Almost perfect. I want a cigarette.”
He laughs. “Christ, yeah. These all-nighters were so much easier to pull when I was smoking,” he agrees, and then holds a hand out to help pull her to her feet, leaning down to meet her in the middle for a kiss. When he pulls away with a grin, he murmurs, “You’re doing a great job.”
She takes in a sharp breath. “Yeah. I know,” she says, which he knows means Thanks.
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Day Twenty Nine - Brick House
Word Count: 624
Warnings: mention of past drug use, fertility issues, mention of sperm donation and clinics, false pretenses, Dieter might be a bit obsessed or a lot
Notes: I wasn’t sure where this was going. I read @fhatbhabie ‘s Dieter fic where he’s being a dad and @wannab-urs has me listening to all the Hozier for her challenge. This is where we are people. We’re on my second D which is Dieter, my first D is Din.
Main Masterlist / March Spring Prompts 2024 / Writing Challenges
A safe place for the both of you is what Dieter Bravo wanted. Finally in the spring, the house was ready. He'd studied your likes and dislikes, favorite colors, asked his assistants and interior designer to decorate according to what you wanted. He believed he had to make things perfect for you. Bravo is aware he’s not - far from it. He has numerous issues with drugs, the law, his career. Never stopping, never slowing down. Always moving forward and not always in a positive direction.
Never would he have expected your request. Dieter was aware of your search, your dream. It wasn’t uncommon but you’d convinced yourself that it would never happen. The doctor had told you there was little chance of it happening ever. Still you believed despite your fears. Dieter watched your perseverance in awe. The idea of you getting what you needed from some donor that you’ve never met kept him up at night. More than the last flop he’d made. It more than paid for renovating the brick house over the last eight months and he was willing to do another one if it meant that he could afford to keep you in that house on bedrest for the last month like you were supposed to be and get him some new oil paints from this one Italian supplier he favored.
You asked if he’d be your moral support as you went to one of the clinics, if he’d hold your hand as you went through the door. Dieter suggested that he could have a physical now that he’s been healthy for a good bit and give you a donation that was more likely to take. He swore that it’s the only form of support he would give you, besides being your friend of course. The clinic thankfully made the process feel ‘impersonal’ as you put it. Bravo knew the first try he was hoping it wouldn’t take, just to be able to have you again. Over two months, he only missed two ‘bun in the oven’ appointments with you and suggested some extra, you know just in case.
It was wrong. He should have felt guilty. Dieter did not and would not. He’d use this process to show you and himself that he could be relied on, constant, strong, like the house he bought you.
He’d gotten you to agree to put his name on the birth certificate and he had his schedule cleared for the most part so he could be wherever you needed him to be. In the room, outside, in the parking lot of the hospital.
Climbing the stairs and walking to the master bedroom he was able to talk you into sharing with him because, rubbing oil on your belly helped calm you and lull you to sleep after proper placement of pillows, he crept toward the door. Your sleeping form was rare to see during the day, among a mountain of pillows and blankets you’ve kicked off because you get hot then cold. Dieter watched your chest rise and fall softly, he had taken a few pictures and saved them on his phone of you at first but that wasn’t enough. Leaving to grab his sketchbook he’d need to draw it, then he may be able to paint this moment later.
This moment that despite the lies and reasons covered under the pretext of helping you with your dream, you were giving Dieter Bravo his - a family with you. Maybe you’ll be mad at him later or even laugh it off but after the baby is safely here, he’ll tell you everything. That you’ve been his ambition for years and regardless of people thinking he’s a scatterbrain, he can focus quite well - on you.
#pedro pascal characters#fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#dieter bravo#dieter bravo fanfiction#dieter bravo fanfic#dieter bravo x plus size reader#Nerdie fic#March#March Spring prompts#day twenty nine#brick house
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My little sisters and I all live in the same apartment complex, but I've never been over to their unit because they've never invited me inside and whenever I had to pick them up or drop them off they'd tell me to meet them in the parking lot. This morning, I had to go over and help them deal with an overflowing toilet because maintenance is closed on the weekends (god forbid you have an emergency on 2½ out of 7 days). I got it fixed no problem, but I noticed something fundamentally different between the three of us.
Their apartment is the exact same model as mine, same layout, same 4 bedrooms, same kitchen, everything is the same, but theirs actually looks like a home. They and their roommates have decorated everything for Christmas. There's a tree and lights and stockings, and the kitchen counter is full of appliances and a knife block and a drying rack. They've rearranged the furniture and hung up paintings and have little knick knacks everywhere, it looks lived in and welcoming.
Mine is a cesspit hovel.
My building had a terrible roach infestation all year, so my roommate and I can't leave any dishes or appliances out in the open. The fridge is safe, but the cabinets and drawers were crawling with the bastards, so I had to keep all my food in baggies inside sealed tubs in my bedroom.
The living room is as barren as the day I moved in; it looks like an empty model apartment they'd show off to prospective renters. It's cold and gray (well, actually landlord beige), and I didn't realize why I hated it so much until just now.
Ever since college, I've lived out of boxes because I've been afraid to get situated anywhere; save for the few years I lived in my childhood bedroom at my parents' place, I've lived in a different place every year since 2014. I didn't bother unpacking because I knew I'd have to repack it all up at the end of the year anyway and move somewhere else, so I've never been able to make a space my own. My sisters move apartments every year, and they just deal with it; they don't mind packing and unpacking, that's just one of the things they gotta do, and their apartments are always so much cozier for it.
I've sprayed Raid all over the kitchen and swept out behind the fridge and stove and called pest control two or three times since I moved in in September, and come to think of it, I haven't seen any roaches in weeks. I think the infestation might have been dealt with, this afternoon my roommate has started moving his utensils into the kitchen, so I think I'm gonna unpack for real. I'm hesitant about food, but after a personal inspection I feel confident enougn to put all my pots and pans and plates in the cabinets.
If I'm wrong and the roaches come back with a vengeance, I'll clean everything and repack it back in my room, but for now I think I can finally start to relax. I'm gonna hang some posters in the living room, maybe put out some coffee table books, move the couch and chairs away from the wall. Once I get some money, I'll buy a bookshelf and put all my tapes and DVDs out there for easy access.
This is going to be nice. 2023 has been unrelentingly horrible from start to finish, but 2024 will be better.
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FFXIV Write 2024 #28 - Deleterious
[Note: A semi-sorta sequel to my Prompt #9 - Lend an Ear. Might not make as much sense without it.]
Summary: Beau reflects on her failed plan after returning from Mt. Gulg.
Content Warnings: Suicidal Ideation
Spoilers: Shadowbringers
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“I’ll be right behind you. I just need a moment,” Beau says to Lehon’a, both having finished their conversation with Ardbert. Ardbert had vanished, leaving the two alone to reflect on the events that had just transpired.
The last thing they remember is being atop Mt. Gulg, having collapsed from the light overtaking them. The Exarch taken by Emet-Selch.
“Okay, I’ll be just outside.,” Lehon’a replies, closing the door behind her.
Beau walks back over to the bed she had awoken in and sits down on it and gives a thousand yalm stare to the floor.
“That didn’t go how you imagined it, did it?” Beau looks up to see Arbdert has reappeared in the room. Beau quickly looks back to the floor, her eyes wide as she lets her tough exterior shatter. She needed to keep it together just long enough until Lehon’a was out of sight. Now that she is gone, Beau finds herself trembling.
“I would have killed everyone.” Beau grips the sheets of her bed where her hands lay. “Had the Crystal Exarch not been there, I would have killed everyone.” Ardbert stays in silence, unsure if he should reassure her or give her the cold hard reality that she may be right. “I’m so stupid.” She swings her hand up into her face, as to punish herself. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” Three more blows to her brow.
“Now I don’t believe that will get us anywhere.” Ardbert takes a step closer to Beau. “I suppose in hindsight, there were some flaws in your plan.” Ardbert is trying and failing to be gentle with the Warrior of Darkness. Beau stands up and aggressively approaches Ardbert.
“One Lightwarden. Two Lightwardens. It wouldn’t have mattered! Because there is nowhere for the light to go!” Beau turns away and places a hand to her forehead. “Gods, even if it had worked and the Scions had been able to defeat the Lightwarden that I would have become, Lehon’a would just have to take in all that light anyway and it would have all been for nothing!”
“Then maybe we should be thankful the Exarch did what he did.” Beau doesn’t seem to acknowledge Arbert’s comment as she paces the room.
“I really thought I would be doing something. I really thought I had it all figured out.” She finds herself near the table in the room and lays hands on top of it. “But again I made the wrong decision.” She grabs a water pitcher and chucks it across the room, flying through Ardbert and clattering against the ground behind him. “Because I’m too stupid to make a proper plan!”
“Fortunate then, that you have surrounded yourself with the people that you have.” Ardbert’s voice remains calm but firm. Beau stares at him, angry. “You thought yesterday to be your last day alive, correct? But here you stand.” He smiles. “Because of your allies.” Beau’s shoulders deflate, her anger turning to grief.
“I’m not worth the effort,” Beau says, her voice having lost much of its volume.
“If we’re going to go that route, then think of it this way; they just saved the First and they don’t even know the half of it. Their efforts saved countless lives yesterday. That sound better to you?” Ardbert has found himself tired of Beau’s regular self-deprecation. “Their care for you has saved lives. So I’m going to have to disagree there. You are worth the effort. I suppose you are just going to live a little longer, friend.” Beau doesn’t respond, she instead sits herself onto the floor, putting herself deep in thought. Ardbert takes a breath, feeling as though he should ease up on her.
“It must have been hard on you; thinking you knew the day your life would end. I hope you maybe feel some sense of relief now that that final hour is behind you.” He takes a few steps towards her and kneels down in front of her. Beau just stares through him. “It is okay to feel lost, Beau. Most people do at times. This pain you try to hide, your friends can feel it. And they wish to help. Pushing it down will not shelter them from it.” While his form is incorporeal, Ardbert nonetheless still rests a hand on Beau’s shoulder. “You can let them in.”
Beau still does not respond. Ardbert lets out another sigh and plants himself beside her, sitting on the floor alongside Beau.
“I think I’d miss them,” Beau whispers, her misty eyes looking forward. Ardbert nods his head.
“I’m sure they’d miss you, too.” Ardbert tips his head toward Beau. “Suppose it could be a good idea to try to make an effort to spend more time with them now.” Ardbert finds a smile growing onto his face. “Might make the next time you try to attempt a big self sacrifice a little easier if you’re tired of them.” Beau scoffs, a smile breaking through her somber face. Ardbert, thankful his attempt at levity worked, lets out a sigh of relief. “Might be worth getting moving soon. Wouldn’t want Lehon’a to come check in and find you’re actually expressing some emotions for once.” Beau rolls her eyes with a smirk.
“Go disappear, ghost boy.” She waves her hand through his chest. Ardbert laughs.
“With pleasure.”
Beau finally looks over to where Ardbert had been, and finds the spot vacant. She wipes her eyes and stands herself up. Grabbing her rapier from atop the chest at the foot of where she had been resting, Ar’beunti heads for the door to catch up to her fell Warrior of Darkness.
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Things I want to do in 2024
I've never been the type to make resolutions and I know we tend to put more weight on them than they actually are meant to have, hence why we never follow through with them. So! I am attempting to just make a list of things I am hoping to do in 2024. very low stakes. not going to think of these as goals, just things I want to do. and hope that I follow through with some of them.
Health-related
Planning my meals and keeping a food journal: I've been on a health journey for about the past year and I want to try to get back on track with that and be more consistent with it. I've been trying to be more consistent with preparing home cooked meals rather than relying on frozen meals/eating out, eating 3 meals a day etc, and that's been going well so far, but it could be better. I think one way to help myself be more consistent is planning my meals out (not like meal-prepping just literally being like this day I'm going to eat these things so I have a more structured "menu" vs throwing things together in my head the day of). I think I also want to start keeping a food journal. I peeped that iOS added a Journal app to the new software and I might try that out to see how useful it would be for food journaling, doing things like documenting my mood around the times I eat, what I eat etc.
Find a new dentist and start flossing: When I say I've been on a health journey over the last year I really mean in every possible way you can think of lol. Dental health was one of them. I've made a lot of improvements but I'm so prone to getting cavities that I think I could make a few more. I am one of the 60% of people who do not floss every day bc I found it hard/time-consuming/unnecessary. But I started doing it a couple weeks ago and... it wasn't so bad? I was pretty consistent with it until I went home for the holidays and that fell to crap bc I couldn't find the floss I had packed. anywho. I want to continue to be consistent with that and make that a habit, in addition to finding a new dentist bc the last one I saw was a bit too...assertive and I didn't like their staff so decided never to go back there again.
Personal/things that actually make me excited
Decorate my room: lol. Can you believe I've lived in my apt for two years and I've yet to decorate my room (even the bathroom has some stuff hung up on the walls). I literally have the decorations sitting in a pile by my bedroom door collecting dust. So yeah. I wanna actually do that. Tbf what stopped me before was that I wasn't confident I'd be able to stay in this apt for long. I thought for sure after a year they would jack up the price and I would be forced to move. But, we're now going on three years and things have been fine so I should actually properly decorate the place.
✨ Get a tattoo ✨ The sparkles are because this is probably the thing I'm most excited about on this list. I have wanted a tattoo for as long as I can remember. And I finally decided last year that I was going to say fuck it and get one. But unfortunately the finances weren't financing so it got delayed. But it's happening this year!! For sure!!! Hopefully in the next few months!! I need to stop delaying it and just do it!! So yeah. I've made my best friend keep me accountable each step of the way so I can stop procrastinating. So she gave me a deadline of Friday, 1/5 to at least have a list of tattoo artists I'm considering. We're doing this!!!
Actually leave my house and spend time in places I enjoy: Since my two closest friends moved away last year I haven't had a lot of incentive to go out and do things. So I've just been spending a lot of time at home by myself. And solitude is so nice. So comfortable. So blissful. But I need to end that. Or at least cut down on it a little. There are things I actively want to do in my city but every time the weekend comes I end up staying in my house doing nothing for 2 days straight. And it's been great. But I need to push myself to actually go out and do things by myself. Go to live music concerts, hang out at bookstores or coffee shops. Just something to have a change of pace and environment. I know I will be better for it. I'm gonna challenge myself to go out by myself at least once a month. If I do more? great. But we're starting small.
Writing-related
Track my writing: I'm not going to push myself to have word count goals or anything like that because I think that would be counter productive and take the fun out of writing for me. I actually wrote a lot last year (I just calculated it - 174, 817 words according to Scrivener; kinda insane can't remember the last time I wrote that much in a year) so I don't think I have issues with word quantity or writing enough and if it ain't broke don't fix it! But I do want to track my writing a little more closely. I just think it could be fun tracking the stats behind it and looking back at it at the end of the year. and also maybe help me continue this consistency with writing that I've suddenly developed?
Write something for fun: I can't tell you how much it hurts me that I don't have any fun/silly projects that I can work on on the side that I don't care about getting perfect. I think it will be nice and freeing and challenge my writing chops a bit to write something completely out of my comfort zone, totally absurd, and purely for my enjoyment. I've just been too crippled with fear to even try and idk why. I want to do it so badly but I struggle with coming up with ideas (and with working on more than one thing at once). We'll see it if it happens. this is just a list of things I want to do who knows if I'll actually do them.
Finish the second draft of MDE: just gonna throw this one in here out of obligation. refer to the last sentence of the previous bullet point. I wrote half of it in a year, maybe it's possible to write the other half in a year?
If you made it this far, thank you for reading. gonna come back to this in 6 months and see if anything I listed here actually panned out lol
#inkoverted thoughts#this is probably the most I've shared about my life and me as a person on my blog like ever lol#don't usually talk about personal things that are unrelated to writing#also writing the 'health-related' part of this made me realize just how much depression makes you stop taking care of yourself#like the way I have completely transformed my priorities and started working on things I didn't care to or have energy to work on before#kinda wild#2023 was a good year ngl
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LONGLEGS (2024)
REMINDER: MY REVIEWS CONTAIN SPOILERS. Also a spoiler, this was disappointing. Almost meh.
Basically, “Longlegs” is just some dude named Cobble, played ostentatiously by Nicholas Cage (caked in pale makeup, with numerous facial prosthetics). Cobble worships Satan, and to serve Satan he makes dolls of little girls. He has them delivered to the girls near their birthdays (which always take place on the 14th day of the month). The Satan doll compels the father to kill the rest of the family and then to commit suicide. Longlegs leaves behind notes in a type of cipher. That’s it.
The movie is placed in 1995 (I think). “Lee Harker” is a new “SPECIAL AGENT” for the FBI, much like FBI trainee Clarice Starling in “The Silence of the Lambs” (1991). Stuff happens, and Lee is tested for psychic abilities, so maybe she has some special skills, but after a few scenes we’ll drop that thread so it barely matters. Anywho, her FBI boss, Carter, places her on the Longlegs case. She goes home, and Longlegs is there! He places a note on her desk, basically a key to his cipher, and she is then able to decipher his remaining notes. This leads to a farmhouse where they find a doll, and also to the survivor of an earlier attack, who is Kiernan Shipka! (We last saw her in "The Blackcoat's Daughter" (2015).)
Eventually, Carter digs into Lee’s past, and he informs her that on her ninth birthday her mother called in a police report about an intruder, who might have been Longlegs! Lee visits her mother, who denies knowing anything but also makes some ominous statements. Lee looks through some old Polaroids in her room, and there is Longlegs! In a picture! With the picture, Longlegs is captured really quickly, like the next day, it seems. Under interrogation, he talks about knowing Lee. Carter is satisfied that the crime is solved (even if he’s not sure how Longlegs managed to convince the dads to kill their families), but Lee is convinced that he must have had an accomplice. She goes to talk to Nicholas Cage, I mean, Longlegs, and we have to suffer through an interminable scene of gross overacting. He finally says something about Lee’s mother and then proceeds to bash his head into the table, killing himself.
Lee and another FBI agent go to collect Lee’s mom, who is named Ruth. Lee enters the home, but Ruth is not there! Ruth is outside, with a shotgun! She blasts the other FBI agent. Lee chases her to a yard, where Ruth is pointing the shotgun at a doll of young Lee. She shoots the doll, a black cloud floats away from Lee’s head, and Mom narrates how Longlegs came to their house for Lee’s ninth birthday. In exchange for Lee’s safety, Ruth agreed to help Longlegs by dressing up as a nun to deliver the Satan dolls to various houses. She was the accomplice! All Ruth had to do was stay and watch and then take the dolls away when everyone was dead.
Lee wakes up from her memory. She gets a weird phone call, that she is missing the birthday party of Carter’s daughter (whom she met earlier in the movie). Lee rushes to Carter’s house, but Ruth is already there, with a doll of the little girl! Carter is acting weird. He takes his wife into the kitchen and kills her. Lee does absolutely nothing to stop him. He’s coming back out to kill his daughter, but Lee finally shoots him. Then Ruth’s mother is going to kill the girl, because she is now a Satanist, but Lee shoots her too. Lee tries to shoot the doll, but she is out of bullets. She says something about leaving and that’s the end.
So, if you follow this genre (horror) you’ve no doubt seen the multiple trailers, which provided scant details about the story but teased us with plenty of cool, intriguing images. Our problem is that the movie barely filled in the rest of the plot! The movie has pretensions, perhaps, to be the next “The Silence of Lambs,” but it fails on so many levels. It lacks any verisimilitude as a “horror crime procedural,” like "Seven" (1995) or any of the "True Detective" seasons. The acting is dull and lifeless. Yes, I understand the Lee is supposed to be withdrawn and introverted, but even so, she’s just a blank cutout of a character. As for Nicholas Cage, I have a running hypothesis that he ruins movies he’s in, and “Longlegs” does nothing to disprove my hypothesis. (See, "Color Out of Space" (2019).) He speaks in a sing-song voice, he bellows and yells, he lowers his voice to sound menacing. There are a few goods lines. He talks about “Mr. Downstairs,” (who sounded intriguing, but was nothing in the end!*). He says, “Hail, Satan!” like the cultists from “Rosemary’s Baby” (1968). From a certain point of view, this is a bravura performance, but I still hate it! There are certainly moments of creepiness, but as a movie serial killer, he's hard to take seriously.
Overall, this was ok. I won’t say it’s meh, as there are plenty of successful images and instances of genuine unease. The plot picks up and drops threads too easily, nothing is filled out to satisfaction. There’s no central set piece. Nothing will linger in the memory for long, which is the worst fate for a movie.
*Except, he's the Devil!
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Boundaries
I think I'm finally getting better at saying no, which has taken me a very long time to learn how to do. It has always been a challenge for me.
I've known my dad's friend since I was born, and he's had three cats since 2014. I go over to his house to feed them and clean the litter boxes whenever he goes out of town... until now. When he asked me if I could do that from the 24th-28th, I decided it was time for me to retire from taking care of his cats. I took this whole week off from work and I haven’t had a week off since this same time last year, so I was really looking forward to my vacation. And I just didn't want to spend it worrying about his cats and driving to his house almost every day (two of the days being Christmas Eve and Christmas Day). I don't live right in the city anymore like I used to, and I don't need the extra cash anymore like I used to. I would have been driving into town once a day just for that. Not to mention, his house is very small and cramped as it is, plus he happens to be a pack rat - so there is stuff EVERYWHERE and there's not a lot of room to move around. I also have my own cats to take care of now. Things are just different than they used to be.
And so, I said no. Well actually, I said, "I'm sorry, next week doesn't work for me. I hope you can find someone." I didn't lie, I didn't make up an excuse or give a reason, I just told the truth and wished him well. I felt bad, but I just really didn't want to do it. So I didn't. I don't know who else he ended up asking, but I hope everything worked out (and that he asks that person again next time).
The other thing is that my coworkers in my department like to play the lottery, so we take turns buying tickets for the whole group. There are 14 of us, so someone gets $14 of quick picks when the jackpot gets really big. We don't have an official order that people go in, it's more like whoever hasn't gone in a while does it if they can. I can't remember the last time I bought them, so I figured my turn was coming up soon. Today they asked me if I could get them for tomorrow's drawing, but I don't live right in the city like I mentioned before and I didn't have any plans to go out. So I replied, "Can I do it next time? I'm staying home all day today." If they had asked me yesterday, I would have grabbed them when I went out to do other things. Sorry people, I'm not leaving the house for no other reason besides that when odds are we're just going to lose anyway. I've always done it the other times they asked me to and I've always been agreeable to everything they've asked of me, so I think I'm allowed to skip it just this once.
I don't know if I'm actually getting more assertive or if I just don't feel like doing certain things anymore because I'm getting older or if it's a combination of both, but I'm proud of myself for knowing my boundaries and being able to say no. If you don't, people will walk all over you. You might disappoint or inconvenience the other person/people for a while, but they'll get over it. Sometimes it's okay to be selfish when it comes to your mental health. I'm glad I'm ending 2023 on this note of asking for what I want, and I hope I'll still be able to do that when it's necessary throughout 2024!
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E7. Marianne's on the mend and Mrs. Dashwood has arrived. I can't help but wonder if she would have been equally distressed if it had been Elinor who was deathly ill instead of (her obvious favorite) Marianne.
Brandon needs a shave. It's a nice way of showing how single-minded he's been.
"That terrible business with Willoughby," eh, Mrs. D? You seemed to like the man well enough while it was happening. What is it with these mothers of unmarried daughters who are so fickle when it comes to which suitor they prefer? She and Mrs. Bennet can start a club.
"But worthy men are so uninteresting, especially men of his age." Oh, I cannot WAIT for you to eat those words, Marianne, you arrogant little twit. Have you learned NOTHING from all of this?
"My skin looks terrible." Well, maybe if you had eaten regularly while you were pining after that moron Willoughby, you wouldn't be in this state. You've got no one to blame for your condition but yourself, Marianne.
Back at Barton Cottage, she plays what I think is the song she and Willoughby sang together then bursts into tears. There are only 13 minutes left in this episode, how much longer are they going to drag this out? Get over him, girl.
Marianne and Elinor are outside and that stupid mesh is back. Couldn't anyone in the production team see how visible it was? Or maybe they could and they just didn't care.
"I brought my illness on myself" FUCKING FINALLY! She actually does have a brain, I'm glad to see she's put it to good use.
Can they PLEASE put Willoughby behind them now? STOP TALKING ABOUT HIM, for fuck's sake!
Marianne called Mrs. D "Mother." Nope, she's "Mama" to you, Marianne. Only sons used "Mother."
Tom tells them "Mr. Ferrars" (the subtitles spell it "Ferris") has married Lucy. Marianne starts crying and runs out of the room. Fucking hell, girl, stop that. You've officially crossed the line between "sensitive" and "ninny."
Mrs. D's saying she's only been thinking of Marianne. Yeah, we know. "But unlike (Marianne), we're brave." "We"? There's no "we" here, Mrs. Dashwood. Elinor has been the brave one. All you've done is cry over and with Marianne and complain about not being the mistress of Norland Park anymore. You don't get to claim any sort of camaraderie with Elinor after all that.
Edward explains his brother is the one who's married and Mrs. D and Marianne burst into giggles. Yes, they're happy and relieved but it's pretty ridiculous, especially from Edward's POV. And they just don't stop. Elinor borrows one of Marianne's moves and just leaves the house entirely. Now Edward's insulted and Elinor has run off into the woods. WTF? Can I hit the screenwriter, please?
I still hate his haircut. :P
What I'll never understand is why Mrs. F making Robert her heir cannot be revoked now that he's married the universally despised Lucy. Mrs. F hasn't died, so she should be able to change her will as often as she wants.
That's it? We get Elinor and Edward engaged but all we get for Marianne and Brandon is him giving her a bunch of books, and decidedly unromantic ones at that? Bah. He might as well be her tutor, not a man desperately in love with her.
1995 is still the best S&S, this one is after 2008, and possibly after 2024, I'd have to watch that one again to be sure.
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