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caitified · 1 month ago

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wag life

caitlin clark x reader

warnings:none

caitlin clark wasn’t exactly sure what to expect when she moved to indiana. the city was new, the team was different, and for the first time in a while, she found herself in an unfamiliar place where everything felt… temporary. it wasn’t like iowa, where she’d been rooted for so long. but she was ready for the challenge—both on and off the court.

what she didn’t expect, though, was you.

the first time she saw you was at a community event shortly after she moved. you stood out to her immediately, not just because you were stunning, but because of the way you moved through the room with an effortless kind of confidence. you were younger, about three years her junior, but you held your own, charming everyone around you. caitlin was intrigued before she even realized it, her eyes following you across the room.

you were talking to a small group of people, your laughter carrying across the room, and caitlin couldn’t help but smile to herself. she wasn’t usually shy, especially when it came to meeting new people, but something about you made her hesitate. you had a presence that drew people in, and she wasn’t quite sure how to approach you without seeming out of place.

just as she was about to turn away and head to another part of the event, you caught her looking. you smiled, your eyes lighting up as recognition crossed your face.

“you’re caitlin clark,” you said, walking over to her, your voice confident and friendly.

caitlin smiled, a little taken aback by how easy you made it to start a conversation. “guilty,” she replied, her tone playful. “you know me?”

you laughed softly. “of course. who doesn’t know caitlin clark?” there was a teasing edge to your voice, but caitlin could tell you were sincere. “i’m a big fan. and i’ve been following your move here.”

caitlin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “oh yeah? so, what do you think of indiana?”

you smiled, shrugging a little. “it’s home. you’ll get used to it. we’ve got good people here.” there was something warm and reassuring about the way you said it, and caitlin found herself wanting to know more.

over the course of the night, the two of you fell into easy conversation. caitlin learned that you were a bit of a social media sensation—a famous influencer who had built a following through your fashion sense and your passion for sports. you talked about how much you loved attending games, how you always made sure to support your favorite athletes. you were younger, but there was a maturity about you that caitlin admired.

“i have a feeling i’ll be seeing you at a lot of games,” caitlin teased, taking a sip of her drink as the two of you stood near the bar.

you grinned, not missing a beat. “you can count on it. i’ll be front and center, cheering you on in the best outfits you’ve ever seen.”

caitlin chuckled, already feeling a pull toward you. there was something easy about being around you, and it wasn’t just because you were a fan. it was the way you seemed to understand her, even in the short time you’d spent together.

by the end of the night, caitlin found herself wanting more. so, as the event was winding down, she took a chance.

“hey,” she said softly, her tone more serious now. “would you maybe want to grab dinner sometime? i’d love to keep this conversation going… without the crowd.”

you smiled, your eyes bright as you nodded. “i’d love that.”

from that dinner, things moved quickly. you and caitlin fell into an easy rhythm, your lives beginning to intertwine in ways that neither of you had expected. you made it clear early on how much you supported her—showing up to her games, wearing her jerseys, and posting about her on social media. but it was more than that. you didn’t just show up because of her fame. you showed up because you believed in her.

every time caitlin looked up in the stands, there you were—smiling, cheering her on, decked out in carefully curated outfits that matched the team colors or had some subtle nod to her. the fans loved you for it. they loved how devoted you were to caitlin, how you seemed to bring a new energy to her games. and caitlin loved it too.

you became known as the ultimate wag—always supporting caitlin in the most fashionable way possible, your relationship slowly becoming public as people began to notice just how often you were by her side. it wasn’t long before fans started calling you caitlin’s biggest supporter, and they adored the way you were unapologetically proud of her.

but it wasn’t just about the public displays of support. it was the quiet moments that meant the most to caitlin. the way you’d be there for her after a tough game, offering her comfort without saying too much. the way you understood the pressure she was under, always knowing when to push her and when to give her space.

one night, after a particularly grueling game, caitlin found herself in your apartment, exhausted but happy to be with you. you were curled up on the couch together, your head resting on her shoulder as you scrolled through your phone, probably looking at the photos you’d posted from the game.

“i don’t know how you do it,” caitlin said, her voice soft as she watched you.

“do what?” you asked, looking up at her.

“keep up with all this,” caitlin replied, gesturing to your phone and the whirlwind of attention that always seemed to follow you. “you’re constantly in the spotlight, and yet… you still make time for me.”

you smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from her face. “because you’re worth it,” you said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “and besides, i like supporting you. you make it easy.”

caitlin felt her heart swell at your words. you weren’t just her girlfriend—you were her biggest fan, her partner in everything. she pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“i don’t think i could do this without you,” she admitted quietly.

you looked up at her, your expression soft but full of affection. “good thing you’ll never have to.”

please keep the requests coming. i love your ideas! thanks for all of the support

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #wnba imagine #wnba x reader #iowa wbb #indiana fever

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onepieceisreeeeaaalll · 1 month ago

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HOW THEY EAT

Hey! I wanted to add another piece of kinktober content even if I’m not doing the daily challenge. I’ve recently had more free time so I’ve been writing again. I plan on putting up more SFW content and drabbles soon, but I’m admittedly having way too much fun writing smut lol.

CHARACTERS: Law, Zoro, and Sanji

CW: NSFW!! Afab reader x Character; manhandling with Zoro; mention of overstimulation; (sort of) dom Law and dom Zoro

Only did a little bit of proof-reading so I might edit as I go. Enjoy!

Edited for redundancies.

———————————————

LAW - Deliberate

Law is a man who takes his time. His whole life has been so fast-paced, urgent and exhausting in its own right. So, when it comes to pleasuring his woman, Law is insistent in the fact that he wants to take his time. After all, the best things in life are savored, right?

Mussed black hair is all you can see just barely peeking over your breasts, his head snug between your legs. His lips trail and nip over your inner thighs, sucking and leaving small red and purple marks in their wake. With every small, wanton sigh and gasp that leaves you, Law knows he’s doing a good job. Praise is his love language, after all, though he'd never admit that.

His breath ghosts delicately over the lips of your pussy, puffs of air that come between kitten licks against your skin. He savors the descent, relishing in every little noise and twitch of your body. It’s not until you’re practically whining for more contact that he finally kisses at your needy, aching clit. The movement is testing, always careful to see just how much you want him. If he decides you don’t want him enough, he’ll return his attention back to your thighs. Those occasions when you aren’t ready, he’ll bite at your stomach and thighs until you’re a panting, tortured mess. The majority of the time, though, he’s fairly practiced at getting you there with ease. So, after kissing at your clit, he’ll lick a delicate strip along your slit with the tip of his tongue.

It’s when he hears you breathe a curse under your breath, or moan his name softly, that he’ll formally dig into the bountiful feast before him. Strong hands hold your thighs apart with a firm, needy grip.

One thing about Law is that he really knows how to use his tongue. Sharp, cutting remarks somehow translate to the way it curls and laps over you in the bedroom. He is incredibly skilled and always intentional with it. With a flat tongue, he’ll begin where he thinks best to get you aroused, that beautiful bundle of nerves that sits atop your anatomy. He loves this point of contact, using his tongue to slowly circle your clit with the tip of his tongue before flattening it to stimulate it up and down, side to side. It’s slow, deliberate, and meant to very carefully curate specific responses from you. Eventually, if you’re twitching and begging for more, he’ll keep licking and sucking at his own pace to try and draw as much pleasure from you as possible.

If this wasn’t enough, when he’s trying to build you up, he’ll use that tongue of his to speak the filthiest, most possessive things possible against your flesh.

”Mmm…fuck, (y/n). Tastes so good for me…all mine.” He’ll mumble after retracting his tongue, the breath over your cunt driving you crazy.

If you whine or complain about the break in contact, he’ll just smirk, his eyes tearing away from his meal to look up at you. Law's eyes are always dark with pupils blown out from lust. The look alone is enough to send a shiver down your spine.

”Look at you, so impatient. So goddamn needy.” Law smirks, “And so loud. What did I say about keeping quiet? You’re gonna have to try harder than that. Or should I just stop, since you can’t follow a simple rule?”

When you shake your head quickly in response, trying to prove that you’ll be good - you’ll be patient, quiet. He lets out a small hum against your cunt. He’ll click his tongue almost teasingly, as if trying to use the sound alone to drive you crazy. He loves when you become a desperate, pleading mess. There’s nothing more beautiful to him.

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d like that.” He'll pause, moving his tongue to trace slowly back and forth over your clitoris. “Be a good girl and keep that mouth shut.”

It’s when his tongue moves lower, lapping to tease at your entrance before sliding tantalizingly slow up to your clit that he really has his fun. Once again, Law takes his time between these two locations - it’s about the journey, not the destination. Not that you agree, of course, but he wants to show you how much better things are his way.

He'll continue like this, moving back and forth between teasing your entrance and your clit. It's almost like a game to him to see how slow he can go before you're absolutely a keening, sweaty, panting mess. Law will chuckle to himself, sending vibrations through your flesh. Once again, this is intentional, just as everything is. This man knows what he's doing and he lives for the thrill of seeing what he’s done to you. It’s his own way of marking you - reminding you that no one else has this power over you. Just Law.

When he's finally had his fun, that's when he'll finally satiate both of your growing need to see you orgasm. Using his tongue, he'll quicken the pace of his movements, entering your aching pussy and rubbing his nose into your clit. He eats with a new sense of determination with the sole intention of getting you off. If he decides you're being too loud, he won't bother to vocally reprimand you again, instead opting to reach up and shove his fingers into your mouth. If you suck on them, he'll reward you with a groan and a strip of his tongue to your clit.

Law won’t stop until he's pulled at least two orgasms from you. It's only when his dick is throbbing painfully against his pants that he'll finally relent, kissing up your body and positioning himself to fuck you stupid.

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ZORO - Hungry

Zoro is the kind of man who eats his meal like he's been starving for weeks. It doesn't matter how long it's been since he's last eaten you out. To him, it's seemingly never enough. The swordsman is insatiable and you damn well know that when he wants something, he gets it. If you don’t give it to him, he’ll take it. Not that you’re complaining.

“Get on the bed. Now.”

It's not a request. It's a demand.

If he's had a hard day, he's been known to launch you onto the bed himself with a searing, rough kiss. Nothing about this man is gentle, not even the way he is with you. Zoro likes to manhandle, though he’ll always be careful enough to not hurt you. He just has a lot of pent up energy and is more than willing to show you just how much he wants you, pushing beyond his stoicism to make his desires known. He’ll never use words to tell you that he likes to eat you out, but he doesn’t have to. Zoro is a man of action and it shows.

Sometimes he won't even wait until you're fully undressed. Zoro will drag you to the edge of the bed and hook his strong arms under your thighs to pull you close. He'll begin licking you over your panties with a flat tongue, the smell of your arousal elicits grunts and groans from him. When the fabric is so wet from the combination of your slick and his saliva, he'll finally pull them aside or rip them off to remove any barriers. If there are a few words that can best describe Zoro when it comes to oral, it's impatient, greedy, and voracious.

His tongue immediately delves into your folds and licks at your entrance. He'll move his tongue up to your clit in aggressive, hungry laps before sucking on your labia. No flesh goes untouched by him. Zoro isn't one to half-ass anything he really cares about and your pleasure is no exception. When he begins to eat you, he'll go full-throttle. He's a disciplined man - he has to be in order to meet his goal of becoming the world’s greatest swordsman. When it comes to you, though, there's no sign of restraint. Zoro doesn't just eat, he consumes.

Zoro is messy. Saliva will mix with your juices on his cheeks, his nose, and drip down his chin. He doesn't care about staying clean, he can deal with it later. For now, all he can focus on is the ambrosial sight before him and the pretty sounds coming from your lips. God, he loves the way you sound. The noises alone are enough to make him double his efforts as a reward for how good you’re reacting to him. In fact, if he doesn't think you're being loud enough, he might reach a hand up to slide over your stomach to your chest, fondling a breast and pulling at your nipple. He's also been known to pull you further off the bed, using his strength to hold you up just so he can have access to slap your ass. Every yelp or whine from you results in a groan from him that vibrates over your folds.

He will return every noise you make ten-fold. He’s typically pretty quiet outside of the bedroom, but when it comes to sex, he doesn’t hold back. He wants everyone to hear how good he’s making you feel and how good you’re making him feel. It’s his way of showing off, the possessive and gloating mean-streak showing. Zoro will groan loudly against you, grunting and slurping in order to make sure you know just how much he’s loving every second of eating you out.

Zoro loves to tongue-fuck you more than anything. He’s gotten into the habit of bringing a thumb around to focus on your clitoris while he reaches as deep as he can. To him, it’s one of the most arousing, sensual things he’s ever experienced. Feeling your soft, velvet walls constricting against the muscle of his tongue is downright erotic to him in every sense of the word. Sometimes, he'll pull out just to dirty talk to you, though most of the time, he's too focused on the task at hand. The times he talks dirty, though, his voice is gruff and low. He gets drunk on pussy the same way he does saké.

“So tight for me already. Guess I'm not fucking you enough.” He'll mumble, placing kisses against you before diving right back in. He doesn't even care if you respond, all he wants is to continue his meal.

All the while, his calloused thumb is working over your clit with a renewed sense of urgency. He's not gentle, but he’s careful enough to make sure the feeling isn’t too overwhelming or painful. His digit will move back and forth, sometimes up and down depending on his mood, pressing at a moderately fast rate. When he feels like you aren't reacting the way he wants, he'll press against the delicate bundle slightly harder but at a slower, agonizing pace. He's also a fan of tracing his tongue back up to make sure it's wet enough for his thumb to glide over you with ease.

He won't even bother counting the orgasms he pulls from you - he'll eat until he's full. When he's finally satisfied, when you're an absolute babbling wreck above him, he'll finally pull away to take his cock out in preparation for a very, very long night. Zoro always leaves a clean plate.

———————————————

SANJI - Dedicated

The curly-browed cook has always appreciated a good culinary experience. When it comes to your pussy, though, it's almost ritualistic the way he consumes. Like any good cook, he doesn't just eat, he tastes. There's a sort of reverence that comes from Sanji's handling of you, as if he's a lowly servant worshipping some kind of ancient goddess. If you asked him about it, he'd tell you exactly that - he's appreciating the body of someone who he doesn't deserve. If you tell him that he does deserve you, he won't have it. To him, you're so beautiful and above him that its not even quantifiable.

Sanji wants you to be comfortable, laid out on the bed and already undressed. He'll start at your ankles, slowly kissing up your legs to appreciate every inch of your lower body. He'll take his time, whispering compliments against your skin as he runs his hands along your calves and thighs. Sometimes he'll take the time to massage you, but this depends on how patient he is. After a particularly long day, he'll settle for cutting to the usual routine, though he'll never skip the legs. Sanji is a legs man, through and through.

“Mon coeur, so perfect…you're so soft.�� He'll murmur, his lips ghosting soft trails over your knee. “I can't wait to make you come, angel.”

Sanji will fluctuate between using his tongue and his lips on his slow ascension towards your pussy. He can already feel you shaking for him, and if you complain, he'll laugh softly against your skin and apologize. After all, he's not cruel. He knows exactly what you're wanting and he's not one to let his woman suffer and beg.

He'll gently run his hands over your thighs before kissing over the lips of your cunt. Sanji treats your pussy lips the same way he treats the lips of your face - the kisses are gentle, heated, and intense. His gaze will never leave yours. He wants to look at you while he goes down on you if for nothing more than to see those beautiful eyes looking down at him.

When he finishes his gentle ministrations, he'll take his time licking long strips over your slit with a flat tongue, lingering on your clit where he'll dig in side to side with the tip of his tongue. He loves the way you moan, the soft sighs that leave you, and he'll smile easily against your flesh.

Sanji likes to taste every part of you he can. He'll lick and gently suck at your clit, your labia, and of course your entrance. He'll circle around the entrance, bringing his tongue back up gently to your clit. He likes to taste everywhere he can, to savor the rich aroma that comes from your pussy. He'll fluctuate between licking and kissing at you, continuing to whisper praises.

“You're so amazing, so gorgeous…so delicious.” He'll say before diving his tongue into your entrance, moaning into your skin. His hands will run up and down your thighs, holding them apart gently so that they don't close over his head. He's a fan of your thighs closing around his head, but he likes to wait until he's made you orgasm before he lets it happen. It's like a reward for his efforts.

One of his favorite ways to drag an orgasm out of you is to pull his tongue from your entrance, licking and sucking at your clit gently while fingering you. Sanji is very good with his hands. He’s a chef, after all. He’ll ease one finger into you at a time, focusing on the way you tighten around them. When he feels you pulse or flutter in that very specific way that tells him you’re close, he’ll curl his fingers and tease at your g-spot. When you do come, he’ll bring his tongue back down to your entrance and pull his fingers out, lapping at the pooling liquid. Sanji swears nothing tastes better than your pussy when you come.

Sanji doesn't eat with the intention of getting his own pleasure afterwards, though he'll palm himself as he works to ease the tension in his pants. He especially likes it if he can feel your leg or foot brush against his erection. He swears that he can come just from the sight and feeling of you finishing on his tongue. It's an addiction that he's developed, and he's not sure if he can ever fuck you properly without eating you out first. Your pleasure matters to him and it's shown in the way he effortlessly moves his tongue across your folds.

Sanji will bring you to orgasm as long as you'll let him. He doesn't want to hurt or overstimulate you, but he'll go seemingly for hours if you'll let him. When you've finally had enough, tugging on his hair as your signal, he'll kiss up your thighs and stomach until he reaches up to your face. He'll let you suck your juices from his tongue and lips, a small smile lighting up his face.

“What do you think, beautiful? Tastes good, right?”

Sanji always cares about your opinion of his work, whether it be cooking or the way he pleasures you.

#one piece #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #black leg sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa smut #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #one piece smut #one piece lemon #kinktober

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

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Code of Conduct 5

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss has a difficult time keeping his personal life from bleeding into his work.

Characters: Steve Rogers, this reader is known as Rosie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Mr. Rogers leaves without saying a word. His face is pale as his hand opens and closes in a fist at his side and he strides past your desk. You watch after him, thinking for a moment that you should follow. No, he has to sort this out on his own. You’ve already done too much.

You go through his calendar and cancel his only other meeting. You don’t think that’s going to happen.

It’s strange sitting there alone. Mr. Rogers comes and goes often but not know when he’ll be back puts you on edge. An hour passes then another. You spend your lunch outside in the sunshine then come back in to the stale office air.

Your phone rings and you answer. You’re surprised when Rogers’ voice comes from the speaker. You expected it to be Dizzie for some reason. She’s been awfully quiet today.

“She changed the locks,” he croaks.

There’s static on the line and thrum that’s so loud it nearly drowns him out.

“Sir?” You sit up straight.

“Peggy. She locked me out. I don’t... I don’t know what to do. I’ve just been sitting here in my car...” his voice is a dull murmur.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers. Is that—can she do that? Can you call your lawyer? The police?”

“Police told me to call the lawyer. Lawyer says it’s gonna take a while so... yeah.”

“I’m so so sorry,” you touch your cheek. “I can’t even imagine... that’s horrible.”

“Yeah, I mean, who would leave you, Rosie? No, that’d be crazy.” He sniffles, “guess I deserve this. I worked so much, all so I could give her the life she wanted but it turns out I worked just enough to drive her away.”

“Sir,” you utter.

“Guess I could go to a hotel. I mean, might as well spend the money before I have alimony to pay,” he laughs crisply. “Bucky’s not picking up. I thought maybe I could stay there but... just because my life is falling apart doesn’t mean he needs to pick up the pieces.”

He sounds so broken it makes your heart rend. Something about his cadence also worries you. He doesn’t sound healthy.

“Sir, where are you?”

You realise then what that noise is. Water.

“By the bridge. The water looks cold.”

You swallow and stand up. “I’ll come to you, alright?”

“Rosie? Why...”

“Just, it’s okay, sir, I’ll be there. Is that Collingswood Bridge? I love the flowers there.”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he answers.

“Alright, I’m on my way okay, so let’s stay on the phone.”

“Rosie, why do you sound so upset?”

“I’m not upset. I just think you need a friend so I’m coming. Did you want me to message Mr. Barnes as well.”

“I told you, he’s too busy for me,” he mopes.

“But just in case--”

“Oh, woah!” He exclaims.

“Sir, what--”

“Nothing, nothing, I just... this bridge is so high up.”

You tamp down your worry and take a breath, “sir, I canceled your meetings. Oh, did I tell you, they’re opening a new donut place downstairs too! I know your favourite is the one with the sprinkles.”

“You remember,” he says softly.

“Of course, sir,” you assure him.

You keep chattering about nothing in particular as you swipe up your bag and race out of the office. You try not let him hear you panting as you rush down to catch a cab. You mute the phone to tell the driver to head to the bridge then get back on the line.

The conversation rolls on as you don’t let Rogers stop talking. You get out with a hasty thanks and tip to the driver. You rush down the bridge without looking ahead and only after you’re halfway down do you see your boss sitting on the railing. Holy moly.

You slow and walk up to him slowly, letting out quiet mhm’s and uh huhs and you grab onto his forearm. He flinches and you tug on him. You won’t be able to stop him from going over if he slips but you didn’t want to just call out to him and give him a warning.

“Rose!” He looks at you and lowers his phone. “How’d you get here?”

“Mr. Rogers, please, will you get off the railing?” You ask softly.

He stares at you then looks out at the water. He laughs and turns to hang his legs over the inside of the bridge. “Sure, Rosie. Were you worried?”

“I just wanna make sure you’re okay, sir,” you cling to him until he’s on his feet. He glances down at you grip and you finally let go.

“I’m good. I’m great, now that you’re here. Did you find me a room yet?” He asks.

You wince. You’ve been on the phone this whole time. When does he think you did that?

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“Of course, of course,” his eyes are red from tears, his cheeks pallid and streaked.

“Um, I’m sorry, everything’s booked up,” you say, “how about you come to my place? You can stay on my couch. Just for tonight.”

“Really?” His brow wrinkles, “you’d do that for me?”

“Uh, yeah,” you answer. You don’t think leaving him alone right now would be smart. Nor could you forgive yourself if anything happened. “It’s fine. My place is just a bit small.”

“Mm, I don’t mind,” he smiles and pushes his shoulders up in a shiver as a breeze blows across the water. “It’s cold out here.”

“It is, sir,” you agree. “Where did you park?”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #au #bad bosses #code of conduct #drabble #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america

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bunnwich · 6 months ago

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It's Supposed to Be Fun

(a letter to my friends in the twst fandom)

I've been wanting to make this post for a while and these thoughts may seem scattered but I’m gonna try to express them.

Lately, I have seen many friends and moots that either are leaving the fandom or feel guilty over not having posted in a while or losing interest in twst. On the other side, I also have friends being harassed.

This a reminder to remember why you joined this community to begin with. I know that keeping up with the fast-moving pace of fandom and comparing ourselves to others, can skew our perspective on these things.

It’s supposed to be fun.

Why do we post art or write? Sure, partly for recognition, there's no denying that. But, why do we create, I mean really? For enjoyment. Not for others, not to be “popular” FOR JOY.

So, whether you’re dealing with people critiquing you or feeling guilty about not creating. My question is this: Why waste so much of your time on something that makes you miserable?

Did it stop being fun? Why? Haters? Loss of interest?

To my friends who feel guilty for not creating and not sure if they lost interest in twst:

Don’t feel guilty. At one time, the creation of your twst content was natural. It's what you did for fun with friends or for yourself. Revisit that mindset and think - if creating twst content now will bring that same joy it did before.

If the answer is no, then maybe it’s time to pivot. It’s okay for interests to fade. It doesn’t mean that time, memories, or the friends you made are lost. Connect with your friends, we will understand! We still love you! It's not a race there's no time limit, just pick up were you want to. Draw fanart of old events or OCs.

To my friends who have been harassed:

I say this with sincerity…. People who harass others over fictional characters are fucking losers.

Like… There’s no other eloquent way to encapsulate it. I’m starting to not care for the reason anymore - If you harass or be shady to others over a ship or fictional character. CONGRATS! YOU ARE A LOSER.

We all join fandoms as a hobby, for fun. We’re all just kids in the sandbox playing pretend again… and if you are the type of person to go up just to “kick the doll out of someone’s hand" or make commentary on how “their way of playing is wrong." You’re a loser. I have a life outside of twst, we all do. Someone saying my ship is wrong or cringe is just so laughable to me. We have to make fun of these people more for being so goddamn lame.

Imagine being so unhappy that when you see someone having fun you HAVE to comment on it. By all means, if it gets you through the day...talk shit to close friends or even post about it on your own blog. (THAT WAS ALWAYS ALLOWED.) Don't bother creators directly. Don't be a loser. I sure see tolerance leave people’s bodies when they see a fandom opinion they don't like. (And this is coming from someone who has lots of opinions on these things! But that's why I always put the disclaimers that, hey this is just MY opinion.)

Discussion is one thing, unhelpful comments are another. We shouldn’t give these people the time of day. Curate your online space. Yes, when you post things online you are subjecting yourself to scrutiny. But, we as creators need to stop letting these people have power over us. Period. We do this for free!! FOR FUN. The best thing you can do is create shamelessly.

Delete weird replies, block whoever you need to do to rid yourself of these people who have nothing better to do. Keep your peace. It’s supposed to be for fun. You don’t owe anyone a response.

The twst fandom is like a little family to me and I guess I feel protective over the people in it? I have made many friends and memories because I joined it. And even dispite a handful of the negative experiences (AKA: A couple of “losers" that I’ve had to deal with.) I’ll always look fondly back on this time.

The key for me has always been to just…create for myself. I originally made bunnwich for me and one friend to make fun little arts about our Yuu’s and now I get to have lots of friends to share it with! I’ve transitioned from an OC blog to probably more of an Oc x Canon blog…but I don’t care tbh. I just…draw what I feel like. I know there are people who probably dislike me for that or feel strange about my content and that’s fine. I’m still gonna keep drawing it, loser.

And I just want you guys to do the same, twst or not.

I can’t forget that all my followers and friends are a bonus, if I had never joined tumblr I’d still be drawing the silly shit I draw in peace. And while yes, I do want to grow as an artist and sell more merch and keep growing... I can’t forget my initial excitement for this silly little game. I like to talk about it. I like to write about it. It inspires me.

It’s supposed to be fun. Please remember that. I know it can be discouraging to have others being shitty to you. Or going through a creative drought. But, try not to let this stop you from creating what you love.

#Anyways just had to get this out #feel free to ignore #I love you guys alot and idk if this is helpful but I hate to see you guys upset #ren speaks🌱#twst

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multi-fandomfuckboy · 4 months ago

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Stranger Than Fiction

Part 28: Games

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)

Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 28, Part 29 (Coming Soon)...

AN: lol I'm back on my bullshit. Word Count: 3,874 Warnings: allusions to abuse

It’s a short ride. Neither of you speak, allowing the music to fill the space between you. It’s comfortable. You listen to each song as the cassette plays through the specific mix curated by its maker. Max had shown you a few of these ‘mixtapes' Billy had made the day you waited with her. You don’t fully understand how he’s able to get each song to seamlessly blend into the next despite the variation in artists and rhythms.

Then a song comes on that grabs your attention. It’s the same loud tune, a guitar continuously strumming along with the beat of drums and bass. The thing that stands out to you are the lyrics.

“People think I’m insane, because I’m frowning all the time… I need someone to show me the things in life that I can’t find I can’t see the things that make true happiness, I must be blind.”

“Who sings this?” You ask, glancing sidelong at Billy.

“Black Sabbath.” He tells you, keeping his eyes ahead. “It’s one of their older songs but it still holds up.” He explains pulling to a stop in front of his house. When he moves to cut the engine your hand reflexively grabs his wrist, stopping him.

“Wait. I want to hear the rest.” You tell him, using your other hand to turn up the volume. Billy doesn’t fight you, watching you in silence as you listen to the rest of the song.

“Make a joke and I will sigh And you will laugh and I will cry Happiness I cannot feel And love to me is so unreal… I tell you to enjoy life I wish I could, but it’s too late”

Your heart gives an uncomfortable squeeze for a beat as the song ends. There is a tense moment before the next song begins where you notice Billy's pulse under your fingertips. You don’t know why you're squeezing Billy’s wrist so tightly. You slowly uncurl your fingers, sitting back in your seat. The lyrics bounce around in your mind as you sit there. Billy finally cuts the engine, ending the music as well.

“You okay?” Billy finally asks, lifting a brow. You nod.

“Yea, it’s just weird. How something can sound so loud and angry but under it all it’s actually really sad.” You explain. “Like a cry for help.” Billy’s lips quirk up slightly.

“Maybe that’s what they were going for?” He says. “Music is just another way to tell a story. I’m surprised you’re not more into it.” He tells you, moving to exit the car. “If you thought that was good I’ll have to show you some Bon Jovi.” He goes on as you follow him out of the car and up the steps towards the house. “I’m assuming you have no idea who that is.” Billy says with a smirk.

“Yea yea, save it. Max already thinks I’ve been living under a rock for the past 17 years.” You reply with an eye roll. Billy huffs a laugh.

“That little shit wouldn’t know dick about music if it weren’t for me.” He says, pulling out his keys. His words are harsh but there is no heat to them.

“Well this is a first.” You quip as he unlocks and opens the front door, stepping to the side to let you enter first. “A whole different experience than coming in though the window.” You joke, stepping into the house.

“We can always go around back if you’d feel more comfortable.” He jokes back, following you in. You take a moment to really look around as Billy closes and bolts the door behind you. You’ve never been in this part of the house, only glimpsing at it through windows. It’s not a large space and it’s clear that 4 people occupy the small domicile. Bits and pieces of everyones lives are scattered around.

“I think I’m good.” You reply. You notice that there is a clear clash in interior design through the house. The free weights contrast with the decorative rug under them. Beer cans stacked next to decorative shell decor on the mantle. Someone had tried to make this house a home, but there was something off. It felt like two personalities were struggling to mesh into a comfortable middle, it was unstable, chaotic.

Billy moves around you to lead you deeper into the house but before you can move any further Max’s voice calls from her room.

“Billy, I need to go to the arcade! Where did you-oh.” She stops short seeing you in the living room. For some reason it feels like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t, a pit of anxiety taking root in your stomach.

“Hey Max.” You greet, giving her a half wave. She just watches you skeptically. Her narrowed eyes dart between you and Billy.

“What’s your malfunction?” Billy snaps after the silence lasts a moment longer than is comfortable.

“Are you two dating?” Max asks bluntly.

“What?!” Both you and Billy ask in unison. You share a confused glance before turning back to Max. Your face heats exponentially.

“Mind your own business you little shit.” Billy bites at the same time you try to explain.

“He’s tutoring me in history.” A smirk, eerily similar to Billy’s, spreads across Max’s face.

“Is that what they call it these days?” She asks, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, a taunting lift in her brow.

“If you want a ride, I would shut the hell up.” Billy says sternly, narrowing his eyes at the redhead.

“Jeez, learn how to take a joke.” Max huffs with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She ducks back into her room, leaving you and Billy in the living room. Billy just shakes his head, clenching his jaw as he heads for his room.

“I swear if her attitude gets any worse Neil is going to lose his shit.” He mumbles, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “Be ready in 20 minutes!” He yells after her. The only confirmation that she heard him comes in the form of a dramatic groan.

“That’s how all kids are at that age. I was so argumentative my mom and I didn’t have a pleasant interaction for weeks at a time, and don’t get me started on Hopper. I’m pretty sure I took years off his life with my attitude.” You chuckle fondly at the memory of your painful growing years.

“Sometimes being a kid isn’t a good enough excuse.” Billy replies calmly. Your stomach twists uncomfortably remembering how Neil had looked at his own son that night not so long ago.

“Neil and Susan are in Indianapolis Christmas shopping, so I’m playing chauffeur for the day.” Billy explains, entering his room and heading straight for the bed, flopping down on it.

“I don’t mind helping watch her.” You offer without much thought. You hover in the doorway, suddenly nervous about being in his room alone with him. It’s not like you had never been in his room alone before, you spent many nights sitting across from him on the bed pouring over history lessons, keeping your voices low to not wake anyone else in the house. But something about being here in the daylight, not sneaking around, it makes your stomach swirl. You glance around, his room looks the same as it always does. Bed half made, cigarette butts stamped out in the ashtray next to the cassettes on the nightstand. You do notice that there is now a small dent in the wall next to the mirror, but you can’t be sure that it wasn’t always there.

“Neil would kick my ass if he knew I pawned my responsibility off on you.” Billy explains, propping himself up on his elbow to see you. You absentmindedly skim your fingers over the outside of the doorframe.

“It’s not ‘pawning’ them off on me. We would do it together.” You reason with him. Your fingers catch on something cold and metal on the outside of the doorframe. Leaning back to glance at what you’re touching you see the latch of a lock. Glancing at the outer side of the door you see the other half of the latch. Something cold prickles down your spine.

This isn’t just a teenager wanting privacy, the way this latch is set up, it would function to lock the door from the outside. Why would anyone need that? Your mind struggles to make sense of it.

“He wouldn’t see it that way.” He tells you flatly.

“Then don’t tell him.” You say simply, stepping fully into the room. “I’ll help you out today and I’ll be gone by the time they get home. “ you explain, sitting gently on the edge of the bed next to his legs. “Just like when we painted the porch.” You remind him. You watch something dance behind his eyes at the memory from this summer that feels like a hundred years ago. “Consider it part of my tutoring payment. I know the food isn’t a fair trade.” You insist. When he finally nods, giving in, you have to smile.

“Fine. But only because the idea of dealing with a prepubescent she-devil by myself makes me want to stick needles in my brain… and leaving her alone is not an option.” He tells you, sitting up next to you. His thigh presses against yours, and the proximity sends sparks over your nerves.

Remembering the promise you made yourself before leaving home you try to scoot away to put some distance between your bodies. Billy notices the movement immediately.

“Oh sorry, am I making you nervous?” He asks, leaning in even closer, one of his arms going behind your back. He’s not touching you, but he’s close enough that you can feel him if you lean back even slightly. You struggle to hold his gaze.

“No.” You say simply, not trusting your voice to say more without shaking.

“You sure?” He asks, lifting a brow. You feel him lean in even closer, you swear you can feel the heat coming off of him. You force yourself to hold his gaze and remain still, fighting the urge to pull away. Like a game of personal space chicken.

“I’m fine.” You practically whisper, your voice sounding too loud with how close he is. When he chuckles you can feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek. His eyes shift between yours. You can see the flecks of green in his sky blue iris. Your breath mingles with his and you smell his last cigarette mixed with spearmint gum. You swallow thickly, gritting your teeth together in defiance.

“You can tell me if you’re not.” Billy insists, his voice just as soft. He’s flirting but you can hear the seriousness laced in his tone. He’s making sure you know he’ll stop, if you ask. Something about that knowledge eases the panic in you. Shifting slightly you tilt your chin up, watching him the way he always looks at you.

“I’m okay.” You say more confidently. You see his adams apple bob as he swallows, his eyes seeming to darken. His gaze flickers to your parted lips so quickly you think you imagined it. Your mouth suddenly goes dry, your stomach flipping at the memory of what his lips felt like against you-

“Right, that’s what ‘not dating’ looks like.” Max’s voice calls loudly from the doorway. You feel like a bucket of ice water has just been poured over your head as you pull away from Billy. Embarrassment floods through you as Billy leaps from the bed lunging towards the door.

“Fuck off!” He yells, slamming the door closed.

“I still need a ride!” Max yells from outside the door, pounding on it for emphasis. Billy’s shoulders are tense as he stands with his back to you, his arms braced against the door. You see him take a deep breath, then another, bowing his head as he lowers his arms, slightly adjusting the waistband of his jeans.

“You sure you want in on this shit show?” He asks, turning to lean back against the door. Max pounds on the door again, shaking its frame. You manage a dry laugh, trying to shove all the mortifying shame you feel into the back of your mind.

“Oh this is nothing. Try telling Mike Wheeler a campaign needs to end early. Kid turns into a gremlin.” You tell him, pushing yourself off the bed. Billy lifts a brow.

“I’m more surprised that you know what a gremlin is.” He admits teasingly. You roll your eyes.

“I do have a life outside of this room you know.” You tell him. You won’t admit that the only reason you know the plot of gremlins is because Steve insisted on catching you up on all the big hits you had missed while you were in the hospital, not that you had actually seen it in theaters.

Billy watches you approach with a healthy dose of skepticism.

“Come on Hargrove, put on a brave face. I hear they can smell fear.” You joke, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m going to be late!” Max yells, pounding harder.

“Be my guest Loca, I always knew you had a death wish.” Billy says with a smirk. Your heart pounds at the memory of your first meeting. It feels like a million years ago, like you were an entirely different person, and looking at Billy’s confident smirk, the teasing glint in his eyes, you wonder if he’s a different person now too.

Without another word, Billy whips open the door to reveal a very agitated Max.

“Finally!” She exclaims, turning on her heel striding towards the front door, her bag already slung over her shoulder. Billy shoots you a look over his shoulder before following after her.

“Hey, Max?” You call, slipping in front of Billy to catch up to her. She only glances at you, still heading for the door. “Do you mind if I tag along to the arcade?” You ask. Your words cause her to halt, turning to face you with the full force of her scrutinizing glare. You feel Billy come to a stop behind you, her eyes dart to him before returning to you.

“Did he ask you to babysit me?” She asks indignantly.

“No!” You say, throwing your hands up. “I just thought you could teach me some stuff. I’m not very good and I hear you kick the boys' butts on a regular basis.” You explain, hoping it comes off as genuine. She studies you for another beat, seeming to weigh the pros and cons of allowing you to come with her. Finally, she shrugs.

“Fine. But don’t try to talk to me while I’m playing. It throws me off.” She instructs, turning for the door. When her back is turned you quickly give Billy an enthusiastic thumbs up, earning another eye roll.

The three of you climb into the car, Billy turning the volume up to his usual bone shaking level as he whips out of his spot, speeding down the road. It’s a short ride into town, especially with how Billy drives. When he comes to a stop outside the arcade you climb out, pulling the seat forward to allow Max out.

“I’ll meet you in there.” you tell her. Needing no explanation, Max jogs to the doors slipping into the dimly lit building. You can see the boys' bikes already lined up outside. “You coming?” you ask Billy, leaning back into the car.

“Hell no. I can babysit just fine from here. You couldn’t pay me to go into that dork pit.” He scoffs. You roll your eyes at his stubbornness.

“Oh come on, tough guy. Where is your sense of adventure and whimsy.” you ask, only receiving an unimpressed look in return.

“Whimsy?” He asks, his lip curling at the word.

“I’ll buy you a coke.” you offer, hoping that bribery will soften his resolve. Billy’s lips press into a firm line, you can see his jaw tick as he grinds his teeth.

“Fine.” he says after a moment. “But I have to run an errand real quick.” He tells you. Thinking this is some kind of trick to get out of coming in, you narrow your eyes.

“You promise to come in when you get back?” you ask, extending your pinky to him. He lifts a brow, a dry laugh escaping him.

“What are you 12?” He asks. When you don’t show any signs of joking he heaves a sigh, linking his pinky with yours. “Fine, yes. I promise I’ll come back and watch you be terrible at dig dug, dork.” He promises with a teasing smirk.

“Good.” you smile, letting his pinky go and stepping back. “And I’m not that bad.” you clarify, closing the door and allowing him to pull away from the curb.

It turns out that you ARE that bad.

Max allows you to take the first turn, even offering you pointers, but by the end of your third turn she takes over explaining that she can’t stand watching you throw away quarters like that. You’re a sorry excuse for a gamer, your brain having trouble communicating quickly enough with your hands on the controls. It’s alright though, you have more fun watching Max and the boys take turns trying to beat each other's scores.

The longer you observe the group of adolescents the more you note the change in dynamic among them. Max and Lucus are openly interested in each other but don’t seem to know how to navigate this new realm of relationship. Mike appears distracted, constantly glancing at his watch. You assume he’s anxious to see El. You know that Hopper has started allowing the two to hang out at the cabin and though you’ve pushed for El to have more social time, Hopper's old habits die hard. His paranoia is persistent. You can’t say that you don’t understand where he’s coming from.

Dustin and Will seem more irritated than anything with the new shift in priorities within the group.

After roughly 30 minutes of watching Max wipe the floor with the boys scores, you venture to the opposite side of the arcade. You want to give the group space but also stay close enough to keep an eye on them. You scan the games, searching for one that you can play without too much instruction. Ms. Pac-Man seems to be simple enough, and it’s located in a spot that allows you to watch your group bounce from game to game.

Inserting your first quarter you begin the game. You’re able to keep up at first, but when the ghosts start to speed up you can't seem to evade them quick enough. After your 4th quarter your pride is stinging.

“Fuck…” you curse to yourself as once again you are cornered by the little red ghost. Before you can insert another quarter, you feel someone approaching from your left, coming too close to just be passing by, tensing your hand itches to lash out but you stop yourself when you realize who it is.

“Hey.” Keiths’ monotone voice greets you. You know him from school, and to your knowledge the two of you had never actually spoken to each other.

“Hi Keith.” you reply politely. You aren’t sure why he’s approaching you. You know that he works here so possibly you were doing something wrong. “What’s up?” you ask. Kieth seems to swallow past something in his struggle to speak.

“I see you around sometimes.” he tells you, unable to meet your eyes. You don’t know what to say to that.

“Yea, I babysit so I come in to keep an eye on my kids sometimes.” you tell him.

“That’s cool.” he mumbles “You know I could help you with some of the games if you want. Are you alone today?” He asks. You know he doesn't mean for it to sound as creepy as it does but you can’t help your slight cringe.

“No, I’m actually with-” you move to gesture towards Max but are cut off when Billy appears next to you, casually draping an arm over your shoulders.

“Me.” He finishes for you, keeping his eyes on Keith who looks like a deer caught in headlights.

“O-oh, cool.” Keith manages to mumble, taking a step back. “Nevermind then” he manages to get out, obviously resisting the urge to turn and run. Understandable with the way Billy is glaring daggers at him.

“I’ll see you around.” you offer Keith a kind smile. He only nods sheepishly before retreating further into the arcade. Sighing, you swat at Billy’s side, causing him to drop his arm from your shoulder with a chuckle.

“What was that for?” he asks, doing his best to look genuinely confused. You see right through it to the self satisfaction he's really feeling.

“Did you have to mad dog him? He was just saying ‘Hi’.” you tell him. Billy scoffs, moving to lean against the game.

“Yea, right.” He says, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You didn’t see how he’s been eyeing you, trying to work up the courage to come ‘say hi’.” he tells you, throwing air quotes around your words.

“And how long were you watching that?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. Billy shakes his head, his curls falling across his forehead.

“You’re missing the point.” He tells you, deflecting the question.

“What point is that?” You ask, shaking your head as you dig a quarter out of your pocket and lean over to place it into the game. When you straighten up Billy has taken a step into your space. You could take a step back to give yourself some room, but you don't. You stand your ground, tilting your head up to meet his stare head on.

“The point is that you’re playing a game you don’t know the rules of and guys like that-” he jerks his chin in the direction Keith had run off. “Will take advantage of that.” he tells you, his voice low. You know he’s too close. That you should take a step back. That the way he’s looking down at you is too personal. That either one of you could close the distance between you with a breath.

“I’m not really good at games.” you admit, feeling the heat rushing to your face. Still you can’t seem to look away. Billy’s sharp gaze seems to soften slightly at your admission.

“I know…” He says softly, his eyes shifting between yours. “I just watched you die 4 times and not even make it past the first level of Pac-man.” He says, his teasing smirk overtaking all the gentleness that had once been in his eyes. Finally, you pull back shocked.

“You stalker!” you accuse, Billy just chuckles turning to face the game. “And I was multitasking.” you try to defend your abysmal performance, gesturing to the group now huddled around galaga.

“Sure, sure. Let me show you how it’s done.” he says confidently, starting the queued up game.

“Hey! That was my quarter!” You protest. Billy only chuckles again.

“I’ll get the next one, crazy.” he tells you, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen.

AN: sorry this took so long... again!

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aceoflove · 5 months ago

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The Bookshop of his Dreams - Bob Floyd x Fem!Reader

He wasn't like the rest of the daggers, always chasing the next hookup. Robert "Bob" Floyd wants to find a girl and settle down, and now that he is permanently stationed at Top Gun, maybe he can.

Fluff, 848 words

A/N: I'm a little rusty, so apologies if it isn't the best <3

Bob never considered himself a social butterfly, as he would rather read than go out to a bar on a roundy Friday night after work with his teammates, being left alone when they all find someone to take home. Even though he had been back at Top Gun for 3 months, being a back seater for Pheonix, he never really left the base, minus some small errands. After Maverick announced that the Dagger Squad will be a permanent fixture in San Diego, he could finally breath, knowing that he could get attached to his squadron and the town he has been living in. The military was always moving him around, as a top WSO, but a part of him wished he could settle down, stay in one place for a while and maybe find a girl, and hopefully this was his chance.

The clouds drifted over the sun and the rain began to pour, his feet hitting the ground at a steady place before the little bell above the door rings. He makes it inside a quaint bookshop, owned by a local family from what he had read. He was on his way over there, to find sanctuary for his aching heart when it started to bucket, drenching him to the bones.

“It’s really coming down out there, isn’t it?”

A soft voice drifts from behind the counter, a contrast to the sharp pitter patter of rain bouncing off of the shop fronts windows. Bob turns, spotting the person who spoke to him. The store was empty apart from the worker behind the counter. She was pretty, truly his type looks wise. A timid smile is plastered on both of their faces as he nods.

“Honestly it came out of nowhere. It was so peaceful on the walk over here until just now.”

A chuckle escapes her lips as she nods, her gaze drawn to the window where raindrops were racing down to the bottom. He was drawn to her eyes, her distracted nature endearing, he can’t help the smile creeping up on his face. She shakes out of it and looks back at him. “Sorry! Feel free to look around and if you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask.”

The comfort of the shop truly drew him in, the plethora of books adorning the shelves making him want to buy out the whole store (Although he doesn’t need to get any more books, his shelves were overflowing with poetry books, and any book that captured his interest). Each step brought him further into the atmosphere, each step bringing him into the enchantment of the fairytale in his mind. The shelves carved out of wood, the details making it feel like the shelves belonged in a cottage.

He can’t help but smile at how the book looks so amazing, the collection precise and diverse, curated with many interests in mind.

He comes back a few more times over the next month, getting closer to her, learning her interests, favourite books, and how the shop was her whole world.

His mind wanders back to the loneliness in his heart, how he wishes he could settle down, and have his own library, his wife curled up with a book, nestled into his side as his attention is taken away from his own book to her face. How her face lights up at certain parts and how he can’t help the love in his eyes.

Her face changes, warping into a different face from the one that was stuck in his mind. Her face turned up. He cannot think about this.

Bob was standing outside the bookstore, trying to work up the nerve to walk back in there after thinking of her for a week, his mind running in circles with different daydreams of what like would be like with her by his side, finally having the life he wished for.

Once again, the store welcomes him in, the warmth embracing him and her smile making him melt once more. “How’s my favourite customer?”

“Better now I’m back here.”

‘Now that I’ve seen you.’ The words were on the tip of his tongue, his heart pounding out of his chest as he flushed a little, heading back into the shelves he was familiar with now, as he could walk around there with his eyes closed.

The mind still wanders, seeing her at the front counter reading another book, flipping through the pages, most likely for a review from the shop. He could imagine her at his kitchen counter, reading and annotating while he cooked them dinner. Bob allows his mind to come back down to earth and he looks through the books once more, grabbing a few from the shelves, admiring the blurbs and the cover design. He makes his way to the front counter, back to the woman who captured his attention.

“Ooo! I love this book!”

She picks up one of them, scanning them for purchase. Her eyes lit up, his heart filled with warmth, an unfamiliar feeling blooming in his chest, and he knew.

‘I’m screwed.’

#bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd one shot #top gun bob #tgm

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aventurineswife · 17 days ago

Note

Can you do an aventurine x disabled!reader that’s in a wheelchair? Just something really fluffy and emotional and all

Under the Stars

Summary: Aventurine takes you to a magical park adorned with lanterns for a cozy picnic under the stars. As you two enjoy each other's company, share laughter and dreams, your bond deepens, celebrating the beauty of life and love despite challenges.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Emotional, Romance, Wheelchair User Representation (Reader is Disabled in this fic), Picnic, Night, Sky, Lighthearted, Heartwarming.

Warnings: Light emotional themes (mention of personal challenges)

The soft light of the early evening filtered through the curtains of Aventurine's spacious apartment, casting a warm glow across the room. The air was filled with the scent of fresh jasmine tea, which Aventurine had brewed earlier. He had always claimed that the right blend of flavors could lift anyone’s spirits, and tonight, he was determined to create a soothing atmosphere for you.

You sat in your wheelchair, a comfortable position by the large window that overlooked the vibrant city skyline. The world outside was alive with the bustling energy of nightlife, but within the confines of Aventurine's home, everything felt safe and serene. You watched as he moved gracefully around the room, adjusting the decorations with a playful finesse that always left you in awe.

“Are you ready for our little surprise?” he called over his shoulder, a hint of mischief lacing his voice.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sound of his playful tone. “Is it another one of your ‘adventures’?” you teased, knowing how he loved to take you on spontaneous outings, no matter the challenges.

He turned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Only the best kind!” He leaned against the door frame, his dark blazer catching the light just right, accentuating the roulette wheel detailing that was a signature of his style.

You couldn’t help but admire him. He was everything you had dreamed of—a whirlwind of charm and charisma wrapped in an enigma that made your heart race. Despite his carefully curated exterior, you had glimpsed the layers beneath, the scars he hid from the world. You could sense that he, too, was navigating his own labyrinth of emotions.

“Okay, I’m intrigued,” you replied, your heart fluttering at the thought of what he had planned. “What’s the surprise?”

“First, I need you to trust me,” he said, his tone shifting to a more earnest note. “Can you do that?”

“Always.” you assured him, your heart swelling with warmth.

With a flourish, Aventurine approached you, kneeling down to meet your gaze. “I’ve been wanting to take you somewhere special,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Somewhere that reminds me of how beautiful the world can be, even if we can’t see all of it.”

Your curiosity piqued. “Where are we going?”

“Just a little place nearby. It’s a secret,” he grinned. “But first, I need your help.”

He helped you navigate to your favorite warm coat, ensuring you were comfortable. With every careful adjustment, you felt the bond between you strengthen. You appreciated how he always made it a point to consider your comfort and needs.

Once you were ready, he gently wheeled you toward the door. The excitement bubbling within you was infectious, and soon, you found yourself grinning ear to ear as you entered the crisp night air.

The city was alive with lights and sounds, the streets adorned with decorations that twinkled like stars. Aventurine led the way, his hand lightly resting on the back of your wheelchair, guiding you forward with a gentle touch.

“Just a little further,” he said, his enthusiasm contagious. The thrill of the unknown ignited a spark of adventure in your chest.

Finally, you arrived at a small park, illuminated by lanterns that danced softly in the breeze. The area was filled with people laughing and enjoying the evening, but it felt like a secret haven just for the two of you.

“What do you think?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation as he wheeled you to a cozy corner beneath a grand oak tree.

“It’s beautiful,” you replied, your breath hitching at the sight of the twinkling lights. The ambiance was magical, creating a serene cocoon around you both.

As you settled in, Aventurine pulled out a small picnic basket he had prepared. “I thought we could have a little picnic under the stars,” he said, excitement bubbling in his voice.

You chuckled, your heart swelling. “You’re so full of surprises.”

He began to unpack, revealing an array of your favorite snacks, sweet treats, and a thermos of that fragrant jasmine tea. Each item was lovingly chosen, and you felt a rush of affection for the thoughtful man who had gone out of his way to make this night special.

As you both sat together, surrounded by the enchanting glow of the lanterns, you felt at peace. Aventurine poured you a cup of tea, and as you took a sip, you looked at him with warmth in your eyes.

“Thank you for this,” you said sincerely. “It means a lot to me.”

Aventurine smiled, his expression softening. “You deserve all the beauty this world has to offer. I want you to see how wonderful life can be, even when it feels difficult.”

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, and it resonated with your heart. In that moment, you realized that despite the challenges you faced, moments like this—filled with joy, laughter, and love—were what made it all worthwhile.

As the evening progressed, you shared stories, laughter, and dreams, your connection deepening with each passing moment. The world faded away as you were lost in each other, your hearts intertwined in a dance of affection.

Eventually, as the stars began to twinkle brighter above, Aventurine leaned closer, his voice soft. “You know, life is a gamble, and I’m glad I took the risk to be with you.”

Your heart raced at his words, knowing that he had chosen you in this high-stakes game of life. “I wouldn’t want it any other way,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

In the gentle embrace of the night, you both leaned in, sharing a tender kiss beneath the stars—a perfect moment, a reflection of your beautiful bond, filled with warmth, laughter, and love.

As you pulled away, you couldn’t help but smile. “What’s next, my risk-taker?”

“Next?” he said, mischief glinting in his eyes. “How about we try to catch a shooting star together?”

With that, you both turned your eyes skyward, hearts entwined, ready to embrace whatever the universe had in store for you next.

#hsr #honkai star rail #x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #hsr aventurine x reader #fluff #Light emotional themes (mention of personal challenges)#wheelchair user representation #emotional #romance #picnic #night sky #lighthearted #heartwarming

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sashaasreads · 11 days ago

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Love n' London

Harry Styles x Fem Reader

A/N Apologies for the delay! I’ve been busy, but I’m finally getting to upload again. Still no smut—I’m working on finding the right approach to write it without it feeling awkward. Thanks for your patience!

_______________________________________

Y/n grew up dreaming of living in London. Ever since she was a child, the city had fascinated her its vibrant art scene, the music, the historic architecture, and the countless little cafes. So, after graduating from art school, she packed her things and moved to the city, full of ambition and excitement.

She found a job as a curator’s assistant in a small gallery in Soho. It was the perfect job, really she spent her days surrounded by paintings and sculptures, getting to know local artists, and learning how to put together exhibitions. It wasn’t glamorous, but Lena loved it.

One grey October afternoon, y/n was at her usual spot in the gallery. She had just finished adjusting a painting, making sure it was perfectly aligned, when the bell over the door chimed, signaling a visitor. She glanced up to see a figure in the doorway, his frame silhouetted against the dim light outside. He was tall, with a tousled head of curls peeking out from under a beanie, a coat draped over his shoulders.

As he stepped inside, Y/n’s heart skipped a beat. The face beneath those curls was unmistakable Harry Styles, the singer she had admired for years. She had seen him in interviews, photos, and music videos, but nothing compared to seeing him in person.

Harry caught her looking and gave a small, shy smile. She blushed, quickly looking away, pretending to adjust her clipboard. But Harry approached her, offering a charming, friendly "Hello."

Y/n stammered out a greeting, her cheeks flushed as she tried to act calm. "Can I help you with something?"

“Actually,” he said with a little laugh, “I’m here to see some art, but I’d love a guide if you’re available.”

It turned out Harry was in town with a few days off between tour stops and had been wandering through London, exploring its art scene. Y/n walked him through the gallery, explaining each piece. She was passionate about her work, and he seemed genuinely interested, asking her thoughtful questions. They talked about art, music, and their favorite places in London.

After their tour, Harry surprised her by inviting her to a late lunch at a small café nearby. Still in shock, she accepted, and they spent the afternoon laughing and talking as though they’d known each other for years. Y/n found herself opening up to him in a way she rarely did, talking about her dreams, her childhood, and the strange mix of fear and excitement she felt about living in London.

Over the next few weeks, they continued to meet. Harry would drop by the gallery whenever he was free, sometimes bringing coffee or flowers. They would spend hours talking, sharing stories, and discovering new corners of the city together. Y/n soon realized that Harry, for all his fame and glamour, was remarkably down to earth. He seemed genuinely fascinated by her, by her art, by her life. And she, in turn, found herself falling deeper each day.

One crisp evening in November, after a quiet dinner in a little Italian restaurant tucked away in a side street, they found themselves walking along the Thames. The lights of London sparkled on the water, casting soft, dancing reflections. They walked in comfortable silence, fingers occasionally brushing against each other’s.

Harry stopped, turning to face her. His green eyes held a softness that took her breath away.

“y/n ,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “This might sound crazy, but I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

Y/n felt her heart pounding. She wanted to say something, but words seemed too small to capture what she felt. So she simply reached out, taking his hand in hers, and they stood there, the world fading away around them.

As the weeks turned into months, Harry’s tours took him to different cities, but he and y/n stayed in touch, talking late into the night, sharing stories, and sending each other songs and sketches. The distance was hard, but their bond only seemed to grow stronger with time.

Whenever he was back in London, they would pick up right where they left off. They explored every hidden gem in the city together, from art galleries and vintage bookstores to secret gardens and rooftop views. Harry introduced her to his world, taking her backstage at his concerts, letting her experience the thrill and energy of his performances. y/n introduced him to hers, taking him to underground art shows and showing him her latest work.

Their love story was a quiet, steady thing, like the pulse of the city itself. They were each other’s inspiration. Y/n's paintings became infused with new colors and emotions, and Harry’s songs took on a deeper, more soulful tone. She was his muse, and he was hers.

One rainy evening, a few years after they’d first met, Harry surprised her with a visit to the gallery. He was holding an umbrella and looked every bit as dashing as the day she’d first seen him. She was setting up a new exhibit and hadn’t expected him to come. But there he was, standing there with that familiar smile, his eyes shining.

“Harry!” She ran over, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said, his voice warm and full of excitement. He led her outside and down the street, and before she knew it, they were at a small, empty theater. Inside, a grand piano stood on the dimly lit stage.

He sat down at the piano, motioning for her to sit beside him. Then, he began to play. It was a song she’d never heard before, gentle, heartfelt, each note weaving a story of love, devotion, and all the golden moments they’d shared.

When he finished, he looked at her, his face softened with vulnerability. “I wrote this for you, y/n. You’ve changed my life in ways I can’t put into words.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she took his hand, squeezing it. They didn’t need to say anything; the silence between them spoke louder than words ever could.

That night, in that quiet, empty theater, with only the faint glow of city lights around them, they knew they had found something rare, something lasting. The kind of love that was more than a moment it was a lifetime, etched in songs and sketches, laughter and quiet glances, memories, and dreams.

In each other, they had found a piece of themselves they never knew was missing a love that was as deep as the city they both called home.

#harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #x yn #harry styles x fem!reader #fanfic #no smut

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ash5monster01 · 1 month ago

Note

hiiii !! I just wanted to say your writing is just brilliant, and I love your DPS works 😊 I was wondering if you could maybe do a Neil x fem!reader, with smut ? Only if u want to ofc and thank u!!! i hope u never stop posting xx

The Hot Doc

Pairing: older!Neil Perry x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, no use of protection, mentions of suicide, language, dirty talk, random hookup, setting is a hospital, reader is a doctor

Summary: Being a traveling Doctor meant meeting many new surgeons but on your latest visit, one happens to catch your eye.

word count: 2.4k

Masterlist

You’re quite sure you’re losing your mind. You had done this a hundred times, travel from hospital to hospital describing a new technique you had created. A safer way to perform an extremely invasive surgery. Every presentation was the same with the same looking Doctors listening quietly. That is until today when a certain doe eyed Doctor wears a mischievous look instead of curiosity. It makes you stumble over your words more than once, a smug smile on his face like he knows he’s the reason.

“If you have any questions or are interested in learning more I’ll be around the hospital all day” you inform the crowd and in true hospital staff passion, no one applauds or flashes a smile as they stand and return to work. All except for one you’re trying hard to ignore as you pack up your research.

“Quite the presentation you have there” the sultry voice startles you, eyes bewildered as you look to see he still wears the same smug smile he had on before.

“Thank you” you grant him, head nodding even if what he had said wasn’t entirely a compliment.

“I’m Dr. Perry, head of cardio here” he gestures around the room but you know he means the hospital. Of course he was a heart surgeon.

“If that’s so, why did you sit through my 50 minute presentation about brain surgery?” you question, arms crossing as you watch him stand from his seat and start for the front of the room.

“I had read an article about you a few months ago. The female that changed the way we operate. Your researching was incredible and the picture not so bad too” he grins at you, a teasing smile as he brings up the very article you had cut and framed in your office back home. To think it had flattered him before you had even stepped foot here.

“That’s very kind of you Dr. Perry. I’m glad you found an interest as well, even if it’s not your speciality” you tell him and he nods once, eyes still washing over you like he’s trying to memorize every detail now that you’re here in person.

“No need to thank me, no reason to when I’ve taken more interest in you than the contents of the article itself” his honesty is admirable and you’re unable to fight the heavy blush that creeps across your cheeks. It’s then you realize the look he had been giving you the entire time was one of lust.

“I’m flattered Dr. Perry, truly” you tell him, suddenly unable to look into his eyes and he smiles as he leans against the table that holds your research. A large hand reaching out and lifting your chin to face him.

“Please, call me Neil” he requests and you gulp at the sound of his name. Something so simple for a handsome man like this. The look in his eyes showing he had lived quite the life up until this very moment. It’s the very look that has heat pooling in your stomach and knees pressing together.

“Okay Neil” you nod, smiling softly at him and Neil has to look away a moment, trying to calm his heart. He had never taken interest in a woman like you before. When he realized he had to accept this life curated for him the last thing he thought he would do is fall for someone who clearly enjoyed it. Who had made this life path for themselves. Falling for a girl who was also a Doctor felt like he was officially leaving behind the life he once wanted for himself.

“I’m not trying to be too forward but can I take you to dinner?” he suddenly asks and you chuckle, finding it took barely anything from him at all the develop a need for him as well. Since when were you easily so wrecked for a man.

“I’d love too, I really really would, but my flight leaves at seven. You only have me for at least another five hours” something flashes behind his eyes at your words, the suggestion your comment had portrayed despite not meaning too.

“Then I’m gonna be a little more forward. I’d really like to kiss you, preferably before my five hours are up” he says and you smile, adoring how a handsome and smart doctor like himself had become infatuated with you just from your talent and a half terrible picture of you. A picture that made you cringe out of all they could’ve used and he had instead fallen for you hundreds of miles away.

“How long do I have you Doctor?” you ask, knowing more than likely he had a few surgeries scheduled on the board. As much as it would turn you on to see him perform one you also figured what the hell did you have to lose. In five hours you’d be in another state, this hospital just another on the list. It really had been a long time and as long as he was free you were hoping to take advantage of it.

“Two hours until my next surgery, I’m technically supposed to be getting some rest in an on call room” he answers, eyeing the time on his watch and wishing he could freeze it so he could spend all of it with you.

“Care if I join you?” the suggestion makes his eyebrows jump in surprise, not expecting his blatant flirting and forwardness to actually get him what he had wanted. He’d never doubt Charlie and his tactics ever again.

“How much rest would I be getting?” he asks and it’s your turn to be too forward, a devious smile crossing your face as you grasp the side of his white coat.

“None” you tell him and he’s standing straight up in a second, collecting your things and hand falling into your own as he leads you out of the auditorium. He’d be a fool to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. So you follow along, heart thrumming from how confidently he leads you to somewhere more private.

Once in the on call room Neil scans the hallway, making sure no one saw before shutting to door and clicking the lock. It’s small, only two bunk beds and a window with a black out curtain, but for spontaneity it would work. When Neil sets down your stuff you can’t help but feel your nerves spark as his eyes drink you in. Finally alone and in private and you’d have to follow through on exactly what you had just suggested. Which meant standing your ground as he stepped closer and closer.

“You sure you want to do this?-” but your lips meeting his own and arms wrapping around his neck answers the question. Large hands land on your back, holding you close as he relishes in the feeling of your lips on his. You smell delightful and when your tongue darts past his lips, deems you taste even better. It’s better than he had imagined it when he first read your article, and even more than when he imagined it again when he heard you’d be coming here.

“Just so you know, this is out of character for me” you inform him as his lips begin to trail down your neck, your hands making quick work of shoving the white coat off his form and starting for the buttons on his shirt.

“Me too” he tells you, voice muffled in your neck but you can still hear the honesty vibrate into your skin. So you keep at the buttons while his own hands finds the zipper on the back of your dress. He pulls it down slowly, kissing more and more of your shoulder as the fabric is loosened around you. When you finish with the last button you allow the dress to drop, leaving you in the mismatched bra and panties you had put on this morning. If you had known you’d meet a hot doctor you might’ve thought ahead about that.

“Jesus even better than I imagined” he says, shrugging his own shirt off his shoulder and tie in the process. His broad and bare chest is on display, he isn’t covered in muscles but toned in a way that matters and that’s when your eyes catch the scare along his left pec. Slowly you reach out, fingers brushing over it softly.

“What’s this?” you curiously ask, eyebrows furrowed and real worry written across your face. Neil’s hand grasps your wrist, pressing your palm flat over where his heart beats.

“The only time I failed a heart” and realization dawns on you, a small gasp falling from your lips. Slowly he drags your hand up his chest, to his shoulder, then to the side of his head. “Had it been here I never would’ve become a heart surgeon”

“Oh God Neil, I’m so sorry” you tell him but he just smiles, long moved on from the mistakes of his past. If he had been successful in taking his own life all those years ago he never would’ve met you. Ironically enough had he gone for the head it would’ve been your surgery that could’ve saved him.

“It’s okay, I had just grazed my heart. A surgeon saved me and when my Dad was still adamant I go to school I knew exactly what to do” his smile isn’t genuine and you know a boy who dreamed of something else is still trapped in there. Yet he also doesn’t need to revisit the same conversation he probably had a hundred times before. Instead he needed a distraction and that’s why you kiss him.

Neil kisses back feverishly, loving that he hadn’t scared you off with his honestly. Instead you hold his head in your hands and kiss him in a way to say it’s okay life didn’t turn out for him. That he was still here with you and that had to be just as good. So he will take this moment and lock it in his heart forever. Smiling against your lips when your hands unbuckle his belt just as his own find the clasp of your bra. It’s a flurry of discarded clothing until your bare form is pressed against his own and he’s laying you on the twin bed.

“You’re so beautiful” he tells you, lips traveling down your chest and to your breasts. You whine when his lips latch around your nipple, his free hand groping your other breast and sliding down until it meets the heat between your legs. You feel him hum against you when he discovers how wet you already are.

“Mhm Neil” you whimper, you orgasm already building as his mouth switches between your breasts, fingers toying with your bundle of nerves. When his lips meet your own again he shoves a finger inside of you. You moan into his mouth and suddenly he’s harder than before, more turned on than he’s ever been in his life.

“What do you want baby?” he asks as he shoves another finger in, stretching you out and deliciously gliding against your walls. You flutter around him and he smiles again as he pumps his fingers in and out, desperate to be inside of you.

You don’t answer him and instead grip the base of his cock. It’s his turn to whine, not expecting the touch as you squeeze him lightly. He tries hard not to grind into your hand as you glide further and further up till you meet his tip. Angry and red and leaking with pre-cum. You needed him inside of you. Which is why you widen your legs, guiding him to where he brushes against your folds. He winces, trying his best to not finish before he even gets to feel what it’s like inside of you.

“Fuck me Neil” you tell him and he doesn’t waste a second, hands slipping out of your pussy, replacing it with the tip of his cock that instantly glistens from how wet you are. He drags himself through your folds, once, twice, and then the third pushes into you slowly.

You grip his shoulders tightly, nails digging into his skin as he sinks further and further inside. It seems it’ll never end then suddenly he’s flush against you, the tip of his cock nudging that perfect spot. You moan out as he waits for you to adjust. Pretty soon you’re nodding, indicating he needs to move. He pulls out halfway before plunging in again. The sensation has you seeing stars and once Neil finds his rhythm you’re done for. You cling against him as he rams into you over and over again. It seems as if your eyes have rolled to the back of your head. His lips are everywhere and the sensation is better than any you had experienced before.

It’s when his hand finds your clit, rubbing quickly, do you feel your orgasm wash over you with no warning. You clamp down on him tightly and his hips stutter, realizing what he’s just done. He fucks you through it, trying hard to last until you squeeze him just right again and he’s finishing as well. You smile wide as he continues to fuck you until he can’t anymore. Falling against you gently and not quite ready to pull out yet.

“Well that was new” you say after a moment, a soft smile covering your lips and Neil smiles back, kissing you gently.

“I hope I wasn’t too forward?” he asks and you snort out a laugh, unwillingly clenching around him again that makes him tense up. He just kisses you again anyway.

“I’d say you did everything right” you tell him and he smiles, noticing this is the happiest he had been in a very very long time.

“I hope I made it memorable for you?” he grins again, that same smug look back on his face and you push some of his brunette hair away so you can see him better. Close enough to finally see the happy and lively boy that lives within him.

“What did you want to be instead of a Doctor?” you ask and he smiles, hand falling on top of your own. The one that cradles his face like you don’t ever want to let him go.

“An actor, I was good too” he tells you and you smile, kissing him gently and keeping your forehead pressed against his own.

“I know I leave tonight but maybe I can call you from my next destination, get to know you better?” you suggest and he smiles so wide he’s certain his own heart is too. Thrumming against your skin and feeling close to someone for the first time in a long time.

“I’d like that a lot”

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gravehags · 4 months ago

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enter lydia

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: Teen

Tags: meet the best friend, reader being goofy as fuck, copia being incredibly anxious, real friendship talk, dinner parties, terzo being clueless

Words: 4,829

Summary: Your oldest, dearest friend and the love of your life. What could possibly go wrong?

a/n: reader backstory tiiiiime, copia's really in for it lol

~~~

“Hey hon?” you ask, poking at your boxed salad with your fork.

“Mmhmm?” Copia responds, currently distracted by trying to recover his pen which has fallen and rolled under the desk. You hear a telltale thump and him cursing softly, and when he emerges, his biretta sits charmingly crooked on his mussed hair. Briefly you forget what you were even going to ask him as he looks at you with a soft smile before getting off his knees and plopping back down in his seat.

“Oh!” you say, it coming back to you, “I wanted to ask you…can I have like…a guest here? Like a visitor?”

Copia blinks at you.

“Visitor?” he asks, baffled, “Amore, you are not a prisoner! Of course you can have someone come see you? Eh, who did you have in mind?”

Part of you wants to casually say “my parents” just to watch the color drain from his face as he stammers but you spare your love the agony.

“My best friend,” you say, halfway through a bite of lettuce, “Lydia? I’m sure I’ve mentioned her before. She’s um, going to be in the area for a work conference and wanted to spend a few days with me. I just didn’t know what the protocol was for that. I mean, Sister Imperator isn’t going to shit her pants is she?”

“Ah,” he waves his hand dismissively, “siblings’ families visit them all the time, why should you be any different? And we have nothing to hide. We would welcome her with open arms.”

Your shoulders sag in relief.

“Okay good, because she’s coming next week and I’m going to be honest with you, asking for permission was kind of a formality. I was going to do it either way.”

Copia laughs.

“Taking the ‘better to ask for forgiveness’ route, huh? I admire that. I suppose we won’t sacrifice her in some arcane ritual now.”

It’s your turn to laugh.

“Uh, I don’t know that you could handle that. She’s a fighter, through and through. She’d definitely kick your ass.”

He frowns and presses a gloved hand to his chest.

“Cara, you wound me. Are you implying that I could not defend your honor?”

“Cope, I saw Secondo grab your hands and slap you while saying ‘stop hitting yourself’ for ten minutes after you pissed him off at the last Uno night. Respectfully, you are a lover, not a fighter.”

“Oh, but what a lover I am, eh? Everyone else on your floor probably heard what I did to you last night hehe–”

“Copia,” you say, blushing as you stab a garbanzo bean, “you’re starting to sound like Terzo.”

He actually gasps at that.

“Fuck the thing about fighting, now you’ve really offended me, dolcezza,” he says gruffly, returning to his own lunch, “but please tell your friend she is welcome here. Any friend of my amore’s is a friend of mine.”

You smile tightly.

“I sure hope so,” you say under your breath.

___

Copia’s nervous.

He hasn’t been this nervous in a long time - probably since before the two of you started dating - and he can feel the sweat accumulate on his palms underneath the leather of his gloves. He looks over to you, excitedly bouncing on the balls of your feet. When you look at him, you give him a wide smile.

“Are you nervous?” you ask, reaching a hand out to cup his elbow. A rivulet of sweat rolls down his back under his cassock. He smiles. Nervously.

“No, no, of course not. You don’t look excited at all, though.”

You giggle.

“I haven’t seen her since I went back home for Christmas! And so much has changed since then. That was right before we got together. I’ve told her all about you, by the way.”

He chuckles weakly but in your giddiness you don’t notice his discomfort. A car pulls into the long driveway and his heart plunges into his stomach. You’re practically vibrating at this point watching the car come closer and closer until it’s pulling in front of the steps the two of you are standing on. You don’t wait for her to get out of the car, instead flying down the stairs to meet her at the door. When she opens it you let out a high-pitched shriek.

“Hold on, let me get out of the damn car,” he hears a deep, amused, female voice speak. The woman that emerges is…not what he pictured. She’s tall - taller than him (though Secondo would say that’s no feat), broad shouldered, and muscular. Her dark curly hair streaked with bright red is piled on top of her head in a bun and before he can make any other observations, you throw yourself into her arms.

“Hey, babygirl,” she laughs, pulling you in for a tight hug and kissing you on top of your head, “I missed you.”

“Missed you more!” he hears you wail as the two of you rock back and forth in your embrace. He fiddles with his cuffs, unsure of whether he should introduce himself now or–

“You must be him,” she says, her tone shifting entirely. Copia blanches.

“Yes! This is–c’mere,” you say, gesturing to him to come down to where the two of you stand, “this is Cardinal Copia. Copia, this is Lydia Morales, my angel and dearest friend.”

He bows slightly.

“It’s eh, a pleasure to meet you, signorina,” he says, reaching out his hand. Lydia looks down at it and takes it in her own. Giving him a tight smirk, she squeezes in a hard enough handshake that he lets out an undignified squeak similar to one of his rats.

“Pleasure’s all mine…Cardinal.” The slight sneer in her voice when she addresses him immediately lets him know that this is going to be a long three days. When she mercifully releases his hand he flexes his fingers in an attempt to get feeling back in them. Lydia’s shrewd, dark eyes stare him down, sweeping over his appearance.

“Um,” you say, clearly thrown by the tension between your lover and your friend, “L-let me help you with your bag, Lyd. There’s a guest room for you all ready.”

“No need,” Lydia says, walking over to the trunk and smacking it firmly. The ghoul, still in the driver seat, pops it and she hauls an overstuffed carry-on out as if it’s made of air.

“Oh, making me swoon,” you say with a smile, nudging her arm.

“I live to please, doll,” Lydia smirks as the three of you head up the steps, “this is quite a place.”

“Isn’t it?” you open the heavy front door and usher everyone inside, “Lydia you will not believe the architecture and the art here, it’s Heaven!”

“Wouldn’t ‘Hell’ be more appropriate,” she says dryly, her eyes briefly flicking over to him. She brings her hand to her neck and fishes out a small, gold cross on a delicate chain from under her t-shirt. For the second time that day, Copia’s heart plummets.

“Haha, very amusing,” you turn to him, “My love, you don’t have to stick around if you don’t want to. You’re more than welcome to of course but I’m just going to get her settled.”

You must have finally picked up on his discomfort and he would kiss you right now if he didn’t think that Lydia would clock him in the face.

“Eh, I do have some things to attend to,” he stops, bowing slightly again to Lydia, “Forgive me, signorina. You will join us tonight for dinner, I hope?”

“Oh fuck,” you murmur, “I completely forgot - Copia’s brothers are hosting a little al fresco get together. You interested?”

Lydia nods slowly, smiling.

“‘Course I’m interested. I’d like to meet this chef you told me about - is he one of your, uh, brothers, Cardinal?”

“Sì, that is my brother Secondo. Are there any restrictions to your diet I should tell him about?”

“Not at all, I’ll eat anything that moves unlike this one over here,” she gestures with her thumb in your direction and you roll your eyes.

“I’m sure Secondo will be pleased to have a less picky eater join his gathering,” you comment then turn to him, “Alright then see you later?”

He nods, and when you approach to kiss to his cheek he does not miss the way Lydia’s eyes narrow.

“Eh, see you later. Ciao.”

He doesn’t breathe again until the two of you are down the hallway and round the corner out of sight.

___

“What do you think of your digs? Pretty nice, right?”

You plop down on the gilded loveseat in the little living room adjacent to the small bedroom where Lydia is currently unpacking.

“Real nice. This whole place is nice. Makes you wonder where they got the money.”

Your lips twitch downwards.

“It’s an old institution - as old as the Catholic church. You don’t ask them where they got their money.”

“Fair enough,” Lydia concedes, standing in the doorway folding a shirt. Her lips are held in a tight line and you know she’s holding back from saying what she really thinks.

“Tell me,” you say, leaning forward to rest your forearms on your thighs, “and don’t think I didn’t notice how fucking weird you were with Copia earlier, either.”

Lydia sighs and looks at you.

“Can I be honest?”

“Why are you even asking when you know you’re going to be anyway? Like I said, tell me.”

“He’s too old,” she says bluntly, and you recoil, “and he’s your coworker which is a whole other rat’s nest. This place is way freaky - I mean, a Satanic church? Girlie, I know you’re not picky about religions but–”

“And neither are you, so why is it a problem all of a sudden now that I’m involved with a member of one in opposition from your religion?”

Lydia sighs and rubs her eye.

“Because you’re my best friend? My best friend who calls me up one day and says ‘I’m in love with a Satanic cardinal who is old enough to be my father’ while being sequestered away from her family and friends for almost a year? Babe, tell me you wouldn’t be concerned if I had done the same. I love you and I love that you’re happy but I’m worried. Your parents are too, honestly.”

“You…you’ve spoken to my parents about this?”

“Of course I have. We didn’t see you for months before last Christmas and yeah, we’ve talked but I don’t know. Please tell me you understand why we’re concerned.”

“I’m in my fucking thirties, I’m not a child, Lydia–”

“Look me in the eyes and say you wouldn’t be worried if it was me.”

A beat passes. You chew on your bottom lip.

“Exactly,” Lydia says, sighing and walking over to sit down next to you, “Listen, I didn’t come here to be a buzzkill for three days, I came here to spend time with you. And you know I gotta scope this Cardinal Copia guy out for myself, huh? Make sure he’s worthy of an angel like you. Typical best friend shit, you know?” she nudges you with her body before wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You want to be mad but all in all…she’s right and you know it. Exhaling through your nose you lean into her while she toys with your hair.

“Please keep an open mind?” you ask quietly, “I know they’re spooky, scary Satanists and everything but…they’ve taken care of me all this time. Without Copia, I’m…” you sniffle, tears welling in your eyes, “I’m not even sure I’d be alive right now. You two are everything to me. Both of you.”

“Alright,” Lydia says softly, kissing you on top of your head, “whatever my girl wants. I promise I won’t grill him too hard.”

“Thank you,” you say, “you’re more than welcome to…I don’t know, suss out his intentions or whatever but remember that I love him. So don’t do that weird thing where you offer to crack people’s backs by picking them up around him or anything, okay? He’s already petrified of you.”

Lydia laughs and shoves you away.

“Hey fuck you, that’s my go-to party trick. Ladies love it.”

You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Are you done unpacking? I want to show this place off to you before we head to this dinner thing.”

“Let me freshen up and change clothes and I’m all yours.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear.”

___

“So, Terzo is the oldest one.”

“No, Primo is the oldest one. Secondo is uh…second, then Terzo, then Copia.”

“Shit, sorry. And they’re all Satanic popes?”

“Terzo is the current one, Primo and Secondo are…retired. And Copia’s a cardinal, you know that.”

“Right, right. Sounds like a lot of fucking dudes, just like the Catholic side. Where are the women at?”

“They’re around, trust me. Not sure if Sister Imperator is going to be in attendance tonight but she’s pretty high up there, I think. There’s a few female cardinals too but I haven’t really gotten the chance to know them outside of passing them in the hall. And then there’s the sisters too, I– Lydia, don’t.”

“What?” Lydia asks with a sly grin, waggling her eyebrows, “Sisters huh? You know I always had a thing for–”

“And you talk about me having a weird priest fetish?” you whisper, holding back a laugh, “Down, girl.”

As if on cue, two sisters - one wearing a tight miniskirt as a habit and the other in a long dress with a very high slit up the side - come out of one of the seminar classrooms. They smile politely at you but when they catch sight of Lydia, their jaws drop.

“Afternoon, ladies,” Lydia purrs with a smile. You make a gagging motion behind the sisters’ backs as they giggle and walk away, occasionally glancing over their shoulders. Lydia licks her lips.

“Not you going full ‘hey mamas’ lesbian,” you wheeze, “I’m having war flashbacks from college.”

“What? We had fun!"

“No,” you laugh, “you had fun. You got laid. I sat at the bar and got mistaken for someone’s mom. More than once.”

“Didn’t help that you used to dress like a senator when we went to the club,” Lydia says with a smile, causing you to whip around and point at her accusingly.

“First of all, business casual was the club look back then and you know that, and second of all, fuck you very much.”

Grinning, Lydia wraps an arm around your shoulders and deposits a wet kiss at your temple.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” she says as you march down the hall side by side, “Should I tell Copia about that time we made out senior year or…”

Your face goes ghostly white.

“Lydia Rosa Morales that was one time and I had a lot of vodka and-and you said—“

“Oh I know what I said,” Lydia agrees, “but what if I changed my mind, hmm? What if I want you all to myself?”

“Lydia do not even go there I—“

“Christ, please unclench I’m just fucking with you. Been a while since you got a taste of your own medicine, huh?”

“God, now I’m really gonna let them sacrifice you tonight. See you in hell, you stupid fruit or whatever that meme was.”

“Wow, lesbophobia from my own best friend…”

“You remember I’m gay too, right?”

“Yeah but–oh. Hello.”

You’re jarred by how polite Lydia sounds all of a sudden until you turn around and are met with Sister Imperator standing there smiling and looking deeply unsettling.

“Sister!” you say, trying to recover yourself, “This is my dearest and oldest friend, Lydia. Lydia, this is Sister Imperator my uh…boss. Lydia is visiting with us–with me– for the next few days.”

“How lovely,” she says as she reaches out to take Lydia’s hand, her gaze directed towards the cross Lydia always wears, “Catholic?”

“Uh, yeah. I mean, I went through the whole thing y’know - baptism, confirmation - I just don’t really attend now unless my parents drag me. Mostly just like the art and the vibes.”

A silence falls between the three of you and you can tell by the way Lydia fidgets with her watch she is extremely uncomfortable. As are you. Where you’re slightly more accustomed to Imperator’s off-putting presence, Lydia is left uncharacteristically meek and quiet. It’s not a look you enjoy seeing on her.

“Well, just giving Lydia a tour so I guess we’ll be on our way,” you say with a nervous smile, taking your friend’s hand and gently tugging her away.

“Give my regards to the Cardinal, dear,” Imperator says, folding her hands in front of her and giving you a pointed look. The two of you haven’t had any real conversations beyond terse staff meeting discussions since the incident in her office and you swallow thickly before nodding. You don’t breathe again until she turns and clacks away on her stilettos.

“Bro, what the fuck,” Lydia breathes, squeezing your hand, “that’s your boss?”

“Uh-huh,” you say as the two of you slowly begin to walk down the hall again, “she’s…a lot. Listen, you can’t let anyone know that you know this or that I told you but…that’s Copia’s mom.”

“What?”

“Yeah it’s…a whole situation. I’ll explain it someday when you and Copia actually like each other.”

“You’ve officially given me a reason to get along with him tonight. I want the tea.”

You withdraw your hand and smack her arm with it.

“Because being the person I love wasn’t enough of a reason? Dickhead.”

___

Copia’s nervous. Again.

He had to slip up to his rooms to change cassocks after he left the office from how disgustingly damp it was and now he stands in the gardens watching ghouls set up a dining table.

“Are you going to help, or just stand there fretting?”

Terzo, doling out plates onto the rustic table, is looking over at him with an uncharacteristically furrowed brow.

“Ah, yes, mi dispiace. I was preoccupied.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, watching Copia reach the table and begin folding napkins while dodging eye contact. “You’re worried her friend doesn’t like you.”

Copia scoffs.

“Oh, I know her friend doesn’t like me. That’s not the issue. The issue is how do I change that.”

Terzo pulls back and thoughtfully rests his weight on his hip.

“I could charm her for you - you know how irresistible the ladies find me.”

Copia coughs, loud and sharp.

“Eh, I don’t think that’s going to work.”

Terzo looks offended and crosses his arms.

“And whyever not? You doubt my ability to sweep people off their feet?”

“That’s not what I’m saying, what I’m saying is–”

“You two!” The two younger siblings jolt to attention as Primo approaches bearing a vase filled with a variety of flowers, “Go help Secondo in the kitchen, he glamored the ghouls but now they can’t remember how to serve hors d'oeuvres and keep gobbling down all the prosciutto.”

Copia heaves a sigh.

“If Secondo can’t fix the problem, I don’t know how much help we’ll be but if you insist. Come on, fratello.”

___

“Hey, you look great!”

You gesture to Lydia in her linen pantsuit and she grins charmingly, pointing at you in return.

“Not looking so bad yourself, babygirl.” She reaches down to graze the fabric of your yellow floral sundress before taking a finger and tapping the delicate gold grucifix that rests on your neck.

“Huh. He give this to you?”

“Yeah. The night we first kissed. He wanted to welcome me into the family.”

Lydia says nothing, but the face she makes shows her equal parts impressed and wary. You loop your arm through hers.

“C’mon, gardens are this way. They’re beautiful, I think Copia said they were setting the table up near the orchards.”

The walk through the abbey and past the greenhouses is quiet, both of you more than happy to enjoy the comfortable silence afforded to you by years of friendship. When you approach the grassy area next to a row of citrus trees, you gasp.

“This is gorgeous!” you gush, and the tall, lanky figure of Primo turns to face you with a smile.

“Buonasera, fiore mio. And you must be Signorina Morales?”

“I am yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you uh…Papa.”

“Primo,” he insists, “there will be many papas here tonight and we will all begin to seem like the same person after a while. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll fetch my brothers. Please, please enjoy.”

He gestures to what you assume are ghouls - though they do not wear their standard silver masks - standing silently and bearing large silver platters of–

“Oh fuck, cheese,” Lydia groans, snagging a small plate off the table and loading it up. “You just gonna stand there, or…?”

“Yeah, I’m just looking for–” you turn around and nearly jump out of your skin at the ghoul who appears behind you, bearing two glasses of prosecco. You thank him profusely and hand one to your friend, who makes an impressed face.

“Salute, you little Satan fucker,” she grins.

“I’m not–ugh. Salute, dumbass,” you say, clinking your glass together.

“Bella mia!”

The all too familiar cry of Terzo rings out as he and his brothers head over to your nook. You exhale heavy through your nose and shake your head as he runs up to plant a kiss on both cheeks.

“Hello, Terzo,” you say, “This–”

You turn to introduce Lydia but Terzo has already swooped in and captured her hand in both of his gloved ones. He looks up at her with wide eyes, a grin playing on his lips.

“Oh, here we go,” you mutter under your breath.

“This Amazonian beauty must be your darling amica, Lydia. Signorina it is my honor and pleasure to make your acquaintance. I…am Terzo Emeritus.”

When he bends to place a kiss to the back of her hand you force yourself to take a sip of prosecco to keep from laughing at her expression. She looks over at you and smiles wide with a wink.

“Signore Terzo, the pleasure is all mine,” she murmurs, fluttering her eyelashes. Oh Lord. You walk away and spot Copia speaking quietly with Secondo.

“Hello, fratello,” you say, standing on tippy toes to press a kiss to Secondo’s cheek, “Hello, my love. Everything uh…everything alright?”

“So far, so good,” Secondo says, eyeing one of the ghouls, “they haven’t done anything weird, have they?”

“Weird? Like ‘developing a twitch’, weird or ‘sacrificing a goat in front of us’, weird?”

“Either, but the latter would be most alarming considering that’s not something we actually do, piccolina,” Secondo scolds, and you smile.

“Oh, you know, sacrificing goats, sacrificing virgins, same thing right?”

“We don’t do that either, and you would know better than most wouldn’t you?” Secondo’s smirks at your gobsmacked expression as he walks away to see Primo and Copia sighs.

“Tell me when it’s over, amore,” he says quietly and you take his hand to press a kiss to the back of it.

“Hey, remember this is just as stressful for me too, right? Sure she’s meeting them but really…they’re meeting her. I would genuinely not be surprised if she’s got Secondo in a headlock by the end of the night and Terzo professing his undying adoration for her.”

Copia cocks his head, frowning.

“Does he know that she’s—”

“Nah. He can find out the hard way. It’ll be good for him.”

For the first time all day, a genuine smile spreads across his face.

“I adore you,” he says, leaning over to kiss you on the cheek and then dutifully wipe his lipstick off.

“Really? Hmm, had no idea. Come on my love, we have to be social at some point.”

“As you wish.”

—-

“You’ve been dodging me all night, huh?”

Copia’s eyes go wide as he finishes pouring his glass of wine and turns around. Lydia is standing behind him, half smile on her face and a hand in her pocket.

“Eh…no. No, I have simply been–”

“Dipping and dodging like you’re being paid to do it,” she smiles, “Listen, I get it. I’m intimidating, I know. But we all want the same thing here, right?”

“We…we do?”

“Sure - we want her–” Lydia says, gesturing over to you smiling and laughing at something Terzo said, “--happiness. You know we met in middle school?”

“Sì, sì, she said something to that effect.”

There’s a pause, and Lydia takes a sip of wine.

“She ever tell you how we met?”

Copia pauses, thoughtfully.

“I…don’t believe so, no.”

Lydia moves to stand by his side so they both have a clear view of you.

“She switched schools when she was twelve - I’m sure she’s told you about that bullshit she went through.”

Copia nods solemnly.

“Indeed.”

“Well she came to my school. Mid-school year…brutal time. Everyone’s already made their friendships - everyone except me. No one wanted to hang out with the beefy girl who towered a head over everyone else. I had kinda resigned myself to my social outcast fate when one day - there was a new face in class, sitting next to me. I was too shy to say hello but she wasn’t - immediately she smiled big at me and introduced herself. She didn’t fit in either, just a little too awkward and excitable about certain things, and we got along like a house on fire. She was the first real friend I ever had. We’ve been through everything together - made a point of going to the same college so we wouldn’t be separated. It’s been tough, not having her around you know?”

Copia nods slowly. He knew the two of you were close but his heart aches at the way her voice catches on the last word.

“I…am sorry.”

Lydia turns to him.

“What for?”

“All of it. For absconding with her attention and physical presence, for the shit you both went through. I…I love her desperately. I know I’m…I’m old and strange but I would do anything for her. Anything, Lydia. And I suspect you would do the same.”

She clears her throat and takes a sip of her wine.

“The way she talks about you…even over text it’s clear you have her heart. Like, you should see some of the shit she sends me. Real ooey, gooey, cringe shit. Up until you came into her life she always told me she had accepted the fact that she was just not meant to be loved. Which you and I both know is fucking bullshit but she really believed that. She really believed someone as kind and smart and pretty as her deserved to be alone. When she first started here she had such a hard time, you know? The depression and the anxiety and I felt helpless because I was so far away. But then she started talking about The Cardinal and how the two of you were spending time together and how giddy you made her feel. How you made this a home for her. And for that I’m grateful, so thank you Copia. And I apologize for my uh…gruff treatment earlier.”

Copia has the inside of his cheek wedged between his teeth in an attempt to keep from tearing up but when he looks over at Lydia and sees her doing the same, he lets out a little sob. She leans forward and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“Oh my fucking God, Lydia you did not make my boyfriend cry. What did you say to him?”

You’re by his side in a flash, thumbs dutifully wiping the smudged black paint from his cheeks.

“Relax, babygirl. We’re cool, right Copia?”

He nods and smiles.

“Yeah. Cool. She didn’t even threaten me once.”

You sigh and give both of them a look. Primo calls out your name and waves you over to the dining table and when you turn to leave Copia makes to leave too but before he can, a hand is wrapped tightly around his wrist.

“All that being said,” Lydia murmurs, very casual, “if you ever do anything - and I mean anything - to hurt her I’ll fucking snap your neck and make it look like an accident. I don’t care how powerful your Ministry is. I will make you bleed. Know that.”

Lydia’s gaze is intense and Copia nods solemnly.

“Anyway,” she says, suddenly boisterous, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in a crushing hug, “let’s go see the others. I’m not done tormenting your brother, yet. He’s something else.”

“Eh, sì he sure is something. And he hasn’t figured it out yet?”

Lydia grins as they march over to the others.

“I don’t think that man could recognize a woman who is only attracted to other women if I wore nothing but my strap and a lesbian flag.”

Copia groans.

“Please don’t let him hear you say that, he’s probably into that.”

#curator reader series #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

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toutvatoujoursbien · 5 months ago

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midnight thoughts (i hope i don't regret this)

Let me preface this by saying that these are just (very, very long) ramblings I’ve had in my head over the past few days and are MY opinions. I never post to Tumblr, but my level of emotional unhinged-ness right now needs an outlet so that I can process everything and feel, well, less unhinged.

I have never been this enamored with any celebrity or promo for a show like I have for this season of Bridgerton. Admittedly, I am a fan of the books and Penelope & Colin are my favorite couple. I’m going to age myself by saying that I read the series almost 20-ish years ago; past me could have never imagined I would actually get to see a Regency romance on my screen. Romances are for the girlies, and what the girlies like tends to be mocked, ridiculed, and not taken seriously - I’ve seen this time and time again across many different fandoms. I also really enjoy the tv series for being its own creative adaptation. I’ve liked many (though not all) of the changes they’ve made to the show; and I’ve liked all the little nods to the books that have been sprinkled in. Are the books or show perfect? Of course not, but that doesn’t mean I can’t love them for bringing me some entertainment and joy and escapism. I think that’s the beauty of it, I get to have the best of both worlds, so to speak. And for me personally, it’s been so fun to watch the press coverage over the past six or so months. As a fandom, I think we’ve been EXTREMELY well fed.

Having Nicola and Luke as the leads has been a true blessing; I think/hope folks can tell how much they clearly love and understand their characters/roles. I know everyone has been talking nonstop about their chemistry and their close friendship, which I think is beautiful, truly unique and special. How can you not enjoy watching two people, who seem to genuinely like one other, talk endlessly about a project that they love and have poured so much into? And the way they have supported one another, not only during promo, but during their years of friendship? Astonishing, really. So while I am old enough to know better than to ship real people, I would’t blame anyone (myself included) if they got caught up in the whirlwind excitement and couldn’t help but wonder a sincere “What if?” (At least that was the case for me.) Isn’t that the beauty of hope and possibility and potential? Like, I knew rationally and intellectually that the likelihood of them being together was low, but damn if I didn’t feel giddy seeing their interviews, reading articles, and watching video after video.

“Oh, but it’s all PR!” they cry. Maybe, but like most of life, I don’t think it’s so simple or clear. I think there’s been a lot of nuance and perhaps some blurring of the lines during this promo tour. As long as we are respectful about it and realize that at the end of the day, the only opinions that matter in regards to their relationship are N & L’s, I don’t think some lighthearted dreaming is unheard of. We have to remember, though, that what we’re shown is only a fraction of their true selves, carefully and deliberately curated to accommodate their status as actors/celebrities/those in the public eye.

(And yes, I know this is the internet and therefore everyone has an opinion - again, myself included. But I struggle to understand why some people think that their opinions should be deemed THE most important to the discussion or would have an impact on any type of outcome, especially in this particular scenario… I hope it’s obvious I’m referring to the very vocal people that chose to expend their energy in hateful, negative ways. Aren’t you exhausted?

However, as a longtime lurker, I have to admit it’s been absolutely fascinating reading all the different perspectives and takes on this too. I think reading other POVs and seeing people articulate points that challenge me and make me think is a good thing - again, as long as it’s all in a respectful manner.

Also I have spent literal years curating and cultivating a social media bubble that doesn’t make me want to cry or give up on life. I don’t seek out negativity and hate - constructive criticism for a thing is a different matter. It may be “putting blinders up,” but honestly, real life can be a shitty enough place that I would like to spend my limited time online looking at cute things and learning or reading about stuff that makes me feel less alone in the world.)

Last week, I stayed off social media to avoid Bridgerton spoilers until I could watch Part 2. I did open Twitter on Thursday to check on something that was entirely unrelated, saw the absolute meltdown of a shitstorm brewing and quickly NOPED out of it. (I was also reminded of why Twitter scares me at times. And I'm not calling it X because that is stupid.) When I finally caught up over the weekend (both with Bridgerton and… all the other stuff 😅), I felt like I was experiencing mental and emotional whiplash.

Look, ultimately, I don’t know them personally and know even less about their private lives. As an outside observer (even though, yes, I have a vested interest in them), Nicola is fucking amazing and Luke seems to be a nice, sweet guy. I think they are each others support, and it has been mentioned many times that she has helped him deal with the intensity/anxiety of being in the spotlight this season. So here are some potentially hot takes: I just think, when they’re together, it’s like he’s a different, better person. When he soaks up even a little bit of her light (sorry, I had to), I can see all the qualities in him that she is constantly gushing about. But, and again this is my take on it, I also think he has a lot of growing up to do. I don’t know much about his supposed “hot/fuck boy summer,” but it seems to me that he’s perhaps going through his own Colin phase, which he can totally do. I genuinely want to see him and Nic succeed. However, I do think he’s got to get a better handling on his media image now (this whole thing reeks of a PR nightmare, but I need to take off my comms professional hat). The way this has all played out has been, imo, a clusterfuck. There are other issues that I’m also not going to get into at the moment.

The thing that frustrated me the most is the timing of those “leaked” photos. You’re telling me that N&L went through SIX months of a - literal - worldwide promo tour, building up hype, doing countless interviews and appearances, etc., only to have these pap pictures “captured” on the night of the Pt. 2 London premiere??? And yes, while I’m aware there were rumblings of a gf being at various events/locations, I didn’t pay much attention to it (read: my curated social media bubble, lol). And I think the lack of confirmation up to that point from Luke and his team just mades things even more tricky/messy. So when the inevitable backlash played out online, piled on top of the hate Polin seems to get from many corners of the internet (Is it ship wars? Regular trolls just trolling? Polin and/or Lukola antis? People who, for whatever reason, don’t like the actors themselves or, worse, don’t like the creative choices/decisions made by the higher-ups and therefore deem it okay to spread hate online? All of the above, most likely.), I know I felt like I had been hit by a train.

Here’s my point: I think what should have been a moment of triumph and a joyous occasion for Nic, Luke, and Bridgerton season 3, was sadly overshadowed by the aforementioned shitstorm. And that’s a damn shame. Too many cast and crew put in a lot of time, effort, and blood sweat and tears, to pull this all together. I was happy with Season 3, which perhaps I will deep dive about in another post because this one has already spiraled out of control. Were there things I wished they had included or, rather, things that could have been left out? Yes, of course. But at the end of the day, I think we got a beautiful story led by two actors who love Polin as much as we do. And I cannot wait to see them back for Season 4. Plus, seriously, those viewing numbers alone should have been mostly what people are talking about. I hope all this doesn’t take away from the overall impact of the show and season.

I think it’s okay to be disappointed by all the stuff that has come out over the last few days. I think it’s perfectly human to want/need to process your thoughts and emotions. What is NOT OKAY is sending hate to anyone, period. And I hope you don’t let all that has happened sour your enjoyment of Season 3 and/or Polin.

Lastly, if you take anything away from this long ass post, it’s that Nicola is a GODDAMN QUEEN. Anyone who says otherwise is speaking slander and we do not stand for that in this house. She has carried herself during this time with grace, charm, and poise, consistently and constantly. And she is always ready for a mega fashion moment. She must be exhausted - already on to her next film/job but also perpetually online, and even stepping up to defend her costar. I may have to do a whole separate post just gushing about her and add to all the people already singing her praises. (And as a big fuck you to all the haters.)

Geez Louise, I clearly have a lot of feelings (more than I allowed myself to believe I did…). But I would love to hear what others think! Please, I need friends with whom I can have rational (okay, maybe slightly unhinged), spirited, deep analyses and discussion of this whole thing, or anything else we might have in common!

#lukola #luke newton #nicola coughlan #bridgerton season 3 #polin #bridgerton #thank you for coming to my ted talk

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