#i'm hoping to get a post up about the actual show in the next couple days so look forward to that too!

[endearng]

About you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x ex!reader Summary: You know a place that you go to remember Spencer Reid's face. You never thought you'd get to actually see him again. WC: 4.6k Warnings: brief mentions of Spencer's trauma (childhood, addiction); hints at poor coping mechanisms/mental struggles; miscommunication; running away. A/N: This is a mix between canon events and some things are fiction (mostly when it comes to the timeline of the show) and I picture later seasons Spencer. This is based on many songs from ttpd, but this fic came to mind when I was listening to 'About You' by the 1975. I really hope you guys like it. Feedbacks are always welcome and appreciated <3 masterlist

You sat on one of the park benches. Actually, it was on the park bench, near a tree, you used to occupy with Spencer after getting your favorite treats from the coffee shop nearby.

It was your first date as boyfriend and girlfriend and he had started reading to you once the chatter had died down a little bit. He looked beautiful that day, eyes leaving the book pages every now and then so he could catch a glimpse of you. Every time he did, you smiled at him. You were so enamored by his eyes that you didn't care if you were perceived as desperate or too lovestruck when he looked at you. You felt warm inside and for a moment, you thought it could last forever.

From that day on, whenever you could, you'd always go to that park and sit on that specific bench. You even carved your initials in it.

Now, as you caressed the old indentation, dark from all the time that had passed, you were all alone. A hole in your chest.

You were living in Virginia, about to get your Master's Degree. It was the time of the semester when everything seems to be piling up and you can never get the time to take care of it as you should. As you walked home at night, you witnessed a young couple walking into a dark forest, but you didn't mind — horny kids were everywhere and you were glad they had a nice way to let off some steam, not being one to judge someone’s kinks.

The next thing you knew, the FBI wanted to see you. They sent a cute, awfully young agent to your apartment, who introduced himself as 'Doctor Spencer Reid' and waved at you once you answered the door, telling you you had been the last person to witness that young woman alive. You froze, unable to look away from him, sheer shock crossing your intriguing, mesmerizing features. Spencer Reid took more than a minute to try to calm you down to have you answer his questions. Despite your head going miles per minute, you tried to help out as much as you could and were able to describe the man as you managed to recall some of his features.

Then, you had gotten Spencer's number to keep him posted if anything happened, since that unsub was kidnapping and torturing girls from your university. When they wrapped up the case to go home, Spencer went to your building to tell you they were returning to Quantico. You had grown fond of him, his presence a warm embrace compared to the chaos around you, so when he broke the news, you did feel a little disappointed, even though you knew that he would eventually leave. He was sensible to the matters around him, doing everything in his power and using his intelligence to help everyone around him. It made you grow a sense of hope in other people you haven’t felt in a while.

You took your study break a little earlier that night once you saw him at your doorstep, deciding you'd give him your time. A low "So, you're leaving..." escaping your mouth once he told you why he went to your place. To say goodbye. You couldn't conceal the sadness in your voice.

"Yeah. I just wanted to say goodbye. And to thank you, of course, you helped us a lot." He said, eyes never leaving yours.

"Anytime, Doctor," you joked. "I'm gonna miss you. Even if we've just met. Even if you had to be aware of something so terrible." You confessed. His eyes widened at you in surprise.

His eyes. Big, doe eyes glancing at you like you held the answers to the whole universe.

In that moment, you did. Not his education, not PhD's, plural, not anything he learned from all the books he read and certainly not his time in the bureau. You held the answers.

He chuckled, a little shy. Unable to tell you, verbally, that he would miss you, too. His eyes did the job, though. "Yeah, yeah. It was nice knowing you."

"Yeah, it was," you agreed, coming a little closer to him. You gave him a kiss on his cheek. Soft, warm skin against your lips making butterflies swarm in your belly. He smiled, widely, sincerely.

You wished he was yours.

You also wished he knew that you meant that, 'besides the bad guy and all the terrible things, it was fun meeting you because you are full of light. A masterpiece.'

"Take care, okay, doctor?" You whispered, slowly pulling away from him. “I’ll see you around.”

"Be safe,” he wished, “I hope so, in better conditions."

A few days passed and you got your first call from Spencer, which turned into a second, a third and when you noticed, you were scheduling hang outs. Those turned into dates when you started to go out more frequently to every new place you wanted the other to know. All of that and touching each other more often, more carefully, more passionately than regular friends did.

You simply sat there, your memories the only thing keeping you company, haunting you, besides the tears that pricked in the corner of your eyes. You missed him so much. You missed the time you had with him.

Two years into your relationship, things got more and more complicated. You struggled to keep up with his life and more often than not you seemed to keep much to yourselves instead of sharing things with each other. You never thought you'd share (funny wording) such a distant relationship with someone, let alone one you knew for sure there was so much love and respect. During your time together, you learned about Spencer’s past and some pieces fell into place; he was somehow explained by everything he had faced as a child, teenager and now as an adult — his mother’s condition, his dad walking away, the bullying, being abducted and its consequences. You held him through it all, when the memories and feelings of powerlessness washed over him.

Then, Spencer started to be away more often and the physical distance, enforced by the emotional one that slowly grew between you two, made you feel like you were an intruder in his life. So, you gradually started to hold yourself back from starting conversations. You rarely had his attention and you figured it was because his mind was always elsewhere.

Yours was, too. Back in a time when things were simpler.

As time went by, being around him, too quiet and far out of each other’s reach, simply floating in his orbit, felt like a heavy burden you had to carry in order to keep him in your life. He never opened up and since you didn’t either, you felt like you didn't have the right to suggest you two should fix things, so you let him be. Coexisting together in the same space, oceans apart from each other’s lives and struggles, never touching the subject. The result, of course, was that you grew apart.

It all ended, officially, when you decided to move away to get your Doctorate as an excuse to run away from the hard conversations that you knew would take place if you confronted him about where had things, where had you gone so terribly wrong. You were hell-bent on trying to turn your heartbreak and deception into something, into an achievement. Then, you both decided, albeit reluctantly, that breaking up was the best choice for you, since you’d move away. The part that there was already a huge gap between the two of you remained unspoken. You tried convincing yourself that it would be easier, since you’d never have to see him and you'd be okay being in past chapters of Spencer’s life. 

Funnily enough, it wasn't that simple.

You see, the heart is a tricky machine. The wording here is not random: it works, of course, to primarily pump the blood through your veins to make sure you are getting enough oxygen around your body and deliver waste objects, like carbon dioxide, back to the lungs, to be removed — Spencer had told you so once when you told him your heart beat for him in a corny deliver of a joke. Despite the fact that he was right, you can never anticipate how the heart will react once it has no access to the aim of its affections, after being cut off from their life. Worse: after being slowly dragged away from the one it was sure it would be able to adore for the rest of its pumping-function life. You figured that, maybe it would continue working for as long as it needs to, but not with the same devotion it once knew and now was deprived of.

That was how you passed the last few years of your life.

After Spencer, you weren't really interested in anyone. You tried to put yourself out there, made new friends, tried dating some people, traveled abroad, discovered more about yourself. Nevertheless, in the back of your hopeless mind and dejected heart, you held the memories you had created with him close to your very soul. When things got too quiet, it was him that you thought of. On a train, on the way home or to somewhere new and/or special, in the lazy mornings you spent by yourself, in the nights that got too lonely to bear by yourself, during your lunch breaks that you always seemed to remember how much he loved sharing those with you — stealing food from his plate, even if you didn't like whatever he was having, just so he could steal your dessert to make sharing equal. He got a sweet tooth after dating you.

Now, though, something felt off. You had spent years of your life pining and longing and hoping that you'd find your way back to each other in the end that now you didn't have the guts to search for him. You kept an eye on his life and could remember a thing or two of all his achievements and papers that were published in science magazines, a brief abstract ready to roll off your tongue if someone asked you about it. You tried keeping up with his professional life in order to feel closer to him, but the thing was, you didn't know if he had someone else, if he had moved on more easily than you (not that you had), if he had learned to cope a little better with the hardships of his job. You always said he needed some rest for his noisy mind.

Even the air in your hometown made you think of him. Felt like him: distant, missed and still plaguing your thoughts. It was the aftermath of running away for some time.

In hindsight, perhaps you had only shared fleeting moments with Spencer and it was a frail affair, doomed from day one, knowing how different your lifestyles were. When you got too fed up with your longing and inner romanticism over this relationship, you would try to convince yourself that you were better off without him. That being alone was better than to be by yourself in a relationship that you only kept for the sake of calling him yours.

Still, there was something missing. You didn't know what it was, but you were tired of wasting your time, waiting for a bus that never showed.

Or maybe it did, and perhaps you had missed it.

From afar, Spencer watched, dumbfounded, a figure that resembled someone he once loved so much, sitting on the bench he used to share with you. He still does love. Or maybe he doesn't. He doesn't know, really. He's been through so much, losing loved ones, losing his mother and enduring several trauma after leaving the FBI, never having the time to properly take in the happenings in his life. Could it possibly be you? He could never forget your form, no matter how many years passed and how hard he had tried to do that. His heart started slowing, oxygen lacking in his lungs. He felt dizzy. Was it a mirage?

Memories started to flood his mind and he was unable to move.

Daylight faded, announcing the beginning of the evening. Spencer listened as you read to him one of your favorite novels, The Hour of the Star, a Brazilian novel by Clarice Lispector. It definitely wasn't romantic, but you always made sure to use the correct tone whenever you were reading the characters' lines, and you paused every now and then to make comments and listened when he had one of his own. Those were precious, rare, quiet moments in his hectic life. He cherished them because of that, of course, but most importantly because you were with him.

Once you finished the chapter you were reciting, you noticed how dark it already was and that the lights of the city were already on, casting a soft glow over Spencer. He looked exceptionally, effortlessly beautiful that night. You smiled at him. "Shall we go home, Spence?"

"Yes," he accepted, helping you up. You thanked him with a kiss to his cheek, which made him flustered.

Years together and he could never get used to the effect your touch had on him, always wishing he could have more, more, more.

As you walked home together, he took your ring, a gift from him that was usually placed in your left hand, and put it on the one people put wedding rings on. Your reply was to kiss him senseless in public.

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him when you abruptly broke the kiss, looking back with a mischievous, happy expression on your face. He trailed after you, one single thought in mind: I'll never let you go.

The woman — he didn't want to deceive himself if she wasn't you, he was staring at her back, after all, so he thought it was better to be careful with his hopes —, had longer hair, fit better into her clothes, but her movements were scarily just like yours. From the way she looked around to the slight tilt of her head when you'd contemplate the park all those years ago. Spencer felt his thoughts clouding with the need to approach her, curiosity driving him to work on this instinct, but as soon as he moved to walk, he instantly halted his movements. What would he say?

"Hello?", "Is that you?" "Are you back?" "Are you real?" "Have you forgotten about me?"

The questions swimmed around his head like he had no control over his own mind. If there was a monitor to show every single thought running through his brain, it would definitely collapse, smoke clouding the air, telling how overwhelmed he felt. He decided on approaching as a passerby, walking as if he didn't want anything by it, acting nonchalant. He made his way closer to the bench, to the woman. 

She heard footsteps behind her, not too close, but still turned to search for the source of the disturbance, out of her daydreaming. You looked at each other for a moment that felt like an eternity — time stopped, the children stopped playing and the passersby stopped breathing.

As you turned around, your eyes found Spencer. The love of your life. You took in his appearance. His hair was long, unlike how it had been when you last saw him, and he didn't care about styling it as much as he did when he was younger, his curls unruly and a little messy, a little stubble growing on his face. His expression looked harder now, more tired, ripe. You couldn't quite know how to describe him properly. For a moment, you considered that he had hardened over the years, opposite from the caring, soft man you've met and loved ardently once.

On a surface level, looking at him made you feel like you've been loving a ghost. A memory, something that could never return.

Your mind suddenly felt empty. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"You?" You heard the question, uncertain, leave his lips in a low voice. Was it in your head or did you sense hurt?

Again, you wanted to speak, to say something, greet him, tell him you've missed him, ask him if he was okay. Nothing came out. Everything seemed inappropriate. Again, he beat you to it, coming closer to you, voice firmer. "What are you... I thought you'd left."

"I did."

"I know."

Silence. He got closer, moving to sit beside you.

"Yeah." Silence. Still looking at each other. "I came back a couple of months ago. Started visiting exactly three weeks ago, today." You revealed to break the silence, even though the idea that everything that came out of your mouth was improper still plagued your mind.

Spencer felt baffled. You looked different, more mature, even your style had drastically changed — you once wore colorful, baggier outfits, full of life and bright shades matching your personality (you even went shopping with Penelope and you exchanged fashion tips), but now, you wore more sober, neutral tones. Instead of the usual sneakers, or the Converse you both loved to wear together to match your outfits — his black and yours blue —, you wore black boots with heels. You looked grown. And it fit you. Still, your face was the same: your eyes held the same glimmer in them from all those years ago, your lips still as inviting as it ever was for him.

He licked his own, realizing his mouth was dry. "I come here every now and then when things get too heated." He confided, eyes never leaving your figure.

You smiled. A hole in his chest, desolation invading his being. The simple act still makes his machine of a heart ache and speed to reach its full capacity. Of breaking for you. "It's peaceful."

You knew that he seeked solace from whatever was happening in your memories together in that place. At least, you hoped so. You hoped, selfishly, that he thought of you as much as you thought of him, of his ghost. That he ached for you as much as you ached for him.

"Yeah."

Awkward silence engulfed the two of you. You didn't know where to look, but you could never stop scanning his face, taking in his features with care. "I like your hair. It fits you," you said.

He got closer, less than an arm's length between the two of you. Almost itching for you to touch his hair, eyes pleading for some mercy on your end. You've been awfully quiet and if meeting him maim you, you certainly have improved your poker face skills. "You've changed," he retorted. "I never thought I'd see you so different from, you know..."

You didn’t remember Spencer at a loss of words.

Too close. "I hope for the better."

"Why didn't you call?" He asked, brows furrowing.

Come to think of it, it was an excuse you had rehearsed quite a few times when you imagined this scenario, “I was settling, still trying to contact everyone, still finding my way around…”

“And you didn’t think of me?” His tone was wounded. He certainly dreamed you’d come back and was positively sure that you’d reach out to him. Of course, he was wrong.

“Of course I did. I just thought you wouldn't pick up,” you replied.

He didn’t know what to say. Of course he would pick up, but there was no way you could know about it nor trust him if he said so; why would you? You had left him because he built walls around him, cutting you off from his life, torturing you, slowly dragging the end of your relationship and he couldn’t explain why. Once you left, Spencer delved into his work life like never before. He flirted with women and even slept around, which he was aware was a poor coping mechanism, all to outrun the desertion of you, desperately wishing he could forget that he could feel alive in your presence. He even tried having a relationship. It was nice having someone around, now that he was grown and had made peace with some of his demons, but it was never like you and it was all that she was to him: someone around. He never felt that spark with her like he had felt with you, never again having a taste of the sensation that ran through him whenever he stumbled excitedly into your apartment when you invited him over, seizing the rare opportunities to be with you, happiness bubbling inside him. With his new girlfriend, it was quiet. He mistook it for the calmness he lacked within himself when he was with you, but it was just bland. Needless to say, he felt awful about straight up using a person to keep his mind off of you, but it was nice while it worked. He started longing for something he couldn’t even describe what it was.

One day, you guys met halfway, between the two cities you were both in. It was raining and you launched yourself into his arms once you recognized him. You had kissed him like a soldier's wife, for you sure definitely missed him like one — he had been away on a case which took longer than usual. “Hi,” you greeted, shyly, after giving him the hottest kiss of his life.

“Hi,” he smiled, a little flushed.

“I couldn't wait to get to you, Spence,” you confessed, arms pulling him back to hug you once again, his own engulfing your figure. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too. I miss you all the time.” He said, burying his face into the crook of your neck, wet hair prickling on his skin. He peeled himself away from you, taking a deep breath. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

The squealed “Yes!” before you kissed him ardently once more was forever ingrained into his mind.

Amidst his reverie, you stood up from your seat. The wind tousled your hair slightly, so you used your left hand to tuck it behind your ear. The street lights reflected their light on a ring you had on your left hand. He recognized it instantly. “I should go,” you murmured, slightly graceless.

“You still have it.”

You looked at him, still sitting and nodded softly. You were hit with the realization that he also remembered you. It didn’t matter that it was such a small thing about you, relief flooded your veins at the very thought that he thought of you. “I do.”

You waved at him, your lips turned upwards shyly. You turned your back and started walking away from him. Again, he thought. And again, he let you, without putting up a fight, which he was aware that he should have done. The elephant in his chest was a light weight compared to the heavy truth dancing around in his throat. Said truth would become much bigger, a heavier burden for him to carry, once it made its way out of him. Speaking made it real. He knew it because every memory that he kept of you, in a sacred, untouched area of his own consciousness, was full of comfort after sharing uncomfortable truths.

It was like his heart screamed at him to keep searching, to keep trying for the person who made it beat faster. But his brain, foggy with all the logic and terrible, horrid things he had to face, decided it was best to keep himself away from you, to save himself the trouble of being the target of pity, or worse, being another person who left him.

From that day on, you’d casually visit the park, secretly wishing you could see him more. It didn't take too long until your wishes were granted, no matter how private you thought they were. Perhaps they were all over your face and he could still read you so easily. Despite the apparent capacity of reading your wants, you were positively sure that Spencer didn't know what to say, just like you. Everything, including him, felt as distant as you had left it. You weren't sure if you could go back, but running away was just as troublesome: you had to adapt in order to survive, but everyone else surrounding you was already fit to the environment. You stuck out like a sore thumb, unable to connect with anyone but the protagonist from past memories of what once was a happy relationship.

Every time you were there, you sensed someone looking at you shortly after your arrival. It was like an unspoken agreement between the two of you, to try to talk things through without rushing into anything, trying to conquer the other's forgiveness by sharing both ordinary and big moments you had during your time apart. As you sat down and talked and shared, you realized that you'd never stop loving him, not even for a second, not even if you could. You had tried and failed, and kept coming back for more to fall in love with the same person over and over.

These encounters quickly turned into the best moments of Spencer's weeks, getting to be filled in on the things he had missed in your life. You had shown him photos, your new degree, new friends, discussed details about your job and how things were in your family. All of that wrapped in intricate, subtle details on how much you'd turned into a person he was already feeling proud of. You had grown into a strong-willed woman who managed to keep your heart as pure as the day you had met him. You still had the traits that made you fall in love with him.

One day, you two were sitting on the bench and you pointed to your initials on it. “Heh, I remember that day. You kept worrying someone was going to show up and stop me from doing it.”

He smiled. “I'm glad no one did.”

“It's funny, isn't it?” You asked, eyes on the indentation, not expecting him to answer due the lack of context. He frowned. “I mean, us. Acting like we don't know each other just for the sake of spending time together.”

He thought for a moment. With your shameless comment, you were definitely daring him to say something. Daring him to make things real, but better this time. “I like that idea,” he said, getting you to look at him. “Don't you? We get to meet each other again. I get to meet you again and I get to make sure that, this time, I'll never let you go.”

“You still don't know me enough to say that with such sureness,” you said, feeling bashful all of a sudden. It was also one of your behaviors that got him so enthralled, once again. Your capacity of saying something and then act coyly, as if you didn't know what he was talking about. Almost backtracking on whatever you had said that was a little more risky than the usual chatter.

He wouldn't let you.

“I want to.”

His tone made you speechless. Your expression turned into one of sheer, pure enchantment. It told him everything he needed to know.

Everything bad was now under the bridge and you could finally have each other back after being so patient.

He now remembered what it was that he missed so dearly in his life.

You.

[xinganhao]

💘 fake dating seungkwan.

☆ Breaking: SEVENTEEN's Seungkwan Confirms He's In A Relationship [BREAKING] 30m ago

Boo Seungkwan of SEVENTEEN confirms that he's currently dating someone. This comes on the heels of Dispatch reports that Seungkwan is involved in a romantic relationship with an actress.

Seungkwan's agency, Pledis Entertainment, has confirmed the idol's relationship status. "Seungkwan is seeing someone with positive feelings," the agency says in a statement. "We hope that you will look warmly upon their relationship."

Congratulations to the couple!

Listen to SEVENTEEN's newest mini album 'SPILL THE FEELS' here.

COMMENTS • 204 COMMENTS

r/kpop • 3d ago donquix0tes

'Fake dating' contracts?

i swear i'm not just in denial about bsk's dating news (LOL) but i heard rumors that 'fake dating' exists in the industry, especially between actors/actresses - idols??? they said it's this whole underground thing so the actors get more traction, the idols get more streams. is this real or is it just stuff you see in fanfics 😂 i'm asking because i can be a bit gullible lmfao

↑ 30 ↓ 🗨 12 ↷ Share

Contract No. 052615PROFESSIONAL SERVICES AGREEMENT

THIS AGREEMENT made and entered into this 28th day of SEPTEMBER 2024 by and between BOO SEUNGKWAN, hereinafter called IDOL, and [YOUR NAME], hereinafter called ACTRESS for a FAKE DATING ENGAGEMENT.

A. IDOL and ACTRESS agree to engage in a fake relationship for the intents and purposes specified under I: RATIONALE, which by this reference is incorporated herein.

B. This Agreement shall take effect on OCTOBER 28, 2024; contingent upon prior approval to the agencies of IDOL and ACTRESS. The Agreement shall end on MARCH 31, 2025, unless earlier terminated or extended by contract amendment.

C. IDOL/ACTRESS may terminate this Agreement for its convenience any time, in whole or part, by giving the opposing party fourteen-day (14-day) written notice thereof.

NEXT PAGE ⟶

seungkwan updates @boosadanfiles seungkwan at the recent christian louboutin event 🥹 in the caption of the post, he said @yourusername was his date! 🗨 191 ⟳ 1.8K ♡ 5.9K

´◡` ꗃ @yourusername lucky to be doing this with a friend. you make it easy, @hit_thekwan. — Jeju-do, South Korea 🗨 1 ♡ 3

🍊 ꗃ @hit_thekwan Replying to @yourusername we still have three more months 😆 don't give up on me yet

From: Boo Seungkwan <boo.seungkwan98@gmail.com> To: You <yourname@gmail.com> Date: March 31, 2025 Subject: so..?

this e-mail is being written right after my meeting with my company, but right before i text you lol. i'm going to schedule send this for the end of our contract so this is actually going to be a letter from seungkwan of the past 👻 don't be spooked! hehe

jokes set aside, i don't know what the next couple of months will look like. i understand why this is being done. you need the publicity for your drama... we have our cb... bla bla bla. it's all the usual stuff in this godforsaken industry

honestly, when i first got approached with the idea of faking a relationship for the group's benefit, i was 10000% ready to say no. but. i found out who it was going to be

and i just thought, like, okay. we already know each other. we're friends! and i guess i just wanted to make sure things would be easy for you, too. bc you deserve someone who will understand you, who will help you and be there for you through something hellish as this

so here's some promises i'll make you, even though you won't see them until much later lololol: i promise to be THE best fake boyfriend there is!!! i'll be cooperative, i'll play the part. i'll try to make sure this arrangement doesn't feel like work (even though it is), and when it's too much, we can run away to jeju for a weekend (just kidding) (or am i?)

by the time you get this, you'll know whether i got to do all that lol. make sure to hold me accountable ok!!! if i wasn't a good fake boyfriend, then show me this and i'll get you a meal, your choice. if i was a good fake boyfriend... well, that was the goal 🤞

i feel like this is already getting super long, so i'll end it now. i'm going to text you to see what you think of the arrangement. hopefully, you're fine with it, or else this would all just be a waste of writing lol. see you, fake girlfriend :)

forever yours, your bf-to-be seungkwan 🍊

p.s. this is the embarrassing part so i'm burying it in the very bottom 🤷 but i also hope that this whole thing will give me the courage to say what i really want to, which is something like

p.s.s. they didn't have to contract me to date you. i would've done it on my own accord. i would've done it for free.

p.s.s.s. i was ready to do all of it, only because it's you

[pathologicalreid]

next of kin | S.R.

disaster strikes and you and Spencer try to take custody of your younger sister

part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: actually might be gn! but i'm too scared to say it is. death, orphan-ing, funerals, child custody issues, blood, general cm violence, like actually an abhorrent amount of death. sorry i killed your parents for the sake of my fanfiction can we still be friends? word count: 3.33k a/n: this is the fic that this post is about. i am in fact my own worst enemy. i hope y'all like it actually genuinely i am most definitely overthinking this. if your name is maya im sorry that sucks.

“What did your parents say?” Spencer asked, walking into the conference room that the local precinct had offered to you.

You had been staring blankly at your phone since you got off the call with your mother, “Uh, they said thanks, but no thanks.”

The uneasy feeling had settled in your stomach as soon as you found out the team was being called to your hometown, and you had been nauseous ever since you found out the UnSub’s pattern.

Married couples with an older child who had moved out and a younger child who was still at home.

Your little sister was a surprise, you had incorrectly assumed your parents were done having kids.

Until today, you wouldn’t have traded Maya for the world, but now you sat in fear of your family being targeted by a serial killer. Hotch had offered them a protective detail, but they declined. Self-righteous as they were, they told you it wouldn’t feel right for them to accept help that couldn’t be offered to everyone.

Clenching your jaw, you stood at the table, “I’ll go by later and check in on them.”

Spencer had met your family twice by now. Last Christmas he had tagged along to meet them and celebrate with your family before the two of you spent New Year’s with his mom. Then, while your sister was on Spring Break, they flew out to Virginia, and you and Spencer had shown your family around Quantico and the District.

Maya had loved Spencer, partially because you loved him, but mostly because of his magic tricks.

“Do you want me to go with you?” He asked, stepping up next to you and placing a hand on the small of your back.

You sighed and shook your head, “No, not if you’re needed here.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, smiling softly, “Thank you for offering, Spence.”

He nodded affirmatively, “If you change your mind,” he offered. Gently, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before the two of you returned to the rest of the team.

The fact that your parents lived only five minutes from the police station gave you some relief, but you still felt tightly wound. Everyone had noticed. You just needed this case to be over.

The porch lights were on when you got there, and you used your house key – which you had never taken off of your keychain - to open the front door. “Hey, kiddo,” your dad greeted from the couch. A peek into the kitchen showed you that your mom was wiping down the counters. It all felt so eerily normal.

It was dark by the time you had gotten there. Maya was already asleep, but you tip-toed into her room anyway and kissed her goodnight before going back downstairs. Once you had hugged both of your parents and told them you loved them, you made your way back to the police precinct.

By nearly three in the morning, there was no new information, and the team was starting to consider calling it a night until the police chief got a call.

“We just got a call. Lady reported shouts coming from her neighbor’s house at 86 Meadowbrook,” he informed you, putting his hands on his hips and looking around at the team.

None of them even spared him a returning glance, everyone’s eyes were on you.

Blinking rapidly, you nodded assuredly, “I have to go get Maya.” You didn’t even recognize your voice even as you said it. It couldn’t have been your voice. That was the rasp of someone far away from you.

All of the other voices around you were muffled, you couldn’t hear what people were telling you, let alone understand them.

Maya. Maya. Maya.

Brown eyes. There they were, right in front of your face. “Let’s go get her,” Spencer whispered.

You had been speaking out loud. Repeating your sister’s name like a prayer without even realizing it.

Hotch let you go with them, but he made it abundantly clear to you – and the rest of the team – that you weren’t working this case anymore.

Surrounded by reverent voices in an SUV, JJ drove while Spencer stayed in the back with you. He held your hand tightly in his.

The house was closed off with police tape. Bright yellow plastic fluttered in the wind as you watched your team and other emergency personnel enter and exit. At your insistence, Spencer went in to get Maya, it felt like it had been hours before he walked out, carrying her in his arms.

Carefully, he brought her to you, and you pulled her close to your chest, blocking her eyesight as two body bags were brought out of the house.

You didn’t hear anything after that. You just let yourself be moved to wherever you needed to be, holding your kid sister as she cried for your parents.

They had to take their bodies to the hospital even though they were already gone, and you needed to be the one to confirm their identities. Spencer stayed with Maya while you were busy. She had cried herself to the point of exhaustion, you were grateful that she was sleeping, and then you felt cruel.

By sunrise, she was still asleep, and you had been set up in that same conference room from earlier. Sitting across from you was a social worker, a representative of the state. Your lips had parted in shock as you looked at her, “What do you mean they denied my request?”

In an attempt to be helpful, JJ worked with you to file an emergency request for custody of Maya, and the case worker had just told you that the request was denied. “The state doesn’t believe your request is valid,” she told you.

Your mouth went dry, “I don’t…” you glanced over at your little sister. “Our parents were murdered last night, and they won’t let me take custody of my sister?” You asked indignantly, peering at the social worker. It wasn’t her fault, somewhere in your grief-ridden brain you knew that, but you couldn’t help the feeling that she was somehow your enemy.

“They don’t believe you can provide her with a stable living environment,” the social worker, Brittany, explained.

Narrowing your eyes, you responded, “A stable living environment like a foster home? I’m her sister. We’re family – the only family each other has left.” You stood up, excusing yourself for a moment before walking out of the precinct. Once you were outside, you promptly hurled into the bushes.

That was how he found you, to the side of the building with your hair haphazardly moved out of your face, dry heaving into the shrubbery. Gently, Spencer placed a hand on your back before starting to rub small circles on your back, “You should eat something, love.”

You just shook your head in response, you weren’t hungry. “They won’t let me take her,” you whispered morosely, straightening up, you kept your back facing him.

“What?” He asked, his hand abruptly stopping its movement on your back.

Taking a deep breath and sitting on the curb, you looked up at Spencer. “The state thinks I’m not stable enough to take her in,” you said, resting your chin in your hands.

Your boyfriend crouched down so that he could sit next to you, “Are you going to challenge it?”

“Of course I am,” you cried. “But what happens to her in the interim, Spence? She gets placed with whatever foster home here and I go back to Virginia? I see her when the family court resolves this in two years?”

Treading carefully, Spencer cleared his throat, “What are you going to do?”

Defeated, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m…” your voice trailed off. “My parents are dead, Spencer,” you murmured softly, tears welling in your eyes.

He reached out and wrapped his arms around you, “I know, darling. I know. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t think I can do this alone,” you whispered, leaning gently into him.

Spencer turned to kiss your temple, “It’s a good thing you’re not alone then. I’m not going anywhere.” He waited for a moment before continuing, “Give me something to do. Give me a job to take off of your shoulders.”

In the end, you let Spencer take over funeral planning. He thanked you for trusting him before the both of you went back into the precinct.

You had just hung up with a family lawyer who had offered to take your case, letting your phone drop to the floor, you let your arms hang at your side. Someone had taken Maya to get breakfast while you spoke with the lawyer.

At the sound of the phone falling to the floor, Spencer stepped into the conference room, letting the door click shut before him. “Hey, what did he say?”

Pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you took in a deep breath, “Um, he said he’d be willing to take the case if I could put together a case plan to present before the judge.”

Before that phone call, you didn’t know what a case plan was, you could’ve gone your whole life without knowing what a case plan was.

“I need a year-long plan for how I’m going to prepare to have Maya in my custody, but he said a year is the best he can do,” you said, staring blankly at the wall ahead of you. “A year?” You whispered aimlessly, “I’m not waiting a fucking year to take custody of her. I have to take her home, Spence. I have to.” It wasn’t your intention to snipe at him, but you felt like you couldn’t help yourself.

The events of the last twelve hours threatened to take you down, but you had to stay strong for Maya.  

Taking a shaky breath, you looked up at Spencer, “Why is it that every time I convince myself that it’s going to be okay, I get tossed to the ground again?” You asked him.

Maybe because you weren’t fully convinced. Maybe it was because it had only been seven hours. You needed to remind yourself of that.

“She’s a ward of the state?” Spencer asked for clarification, holding you tightly.

Nodding absentmindedly, you rested your head on his shoulder as he swayed gently. “She can stay with me until after the funeral, and after that, she has to go with the social worker.”

The sad look on Spencer’s face told you that he was running out of ideas, and you were coming to the very same conclusion. “We could get married,” he offered.

“Stop, Spence,” you said, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe this was where he was going.

He shrugged helplessly, “I’m serious, Y/N. If we get married, they might think we’re stable, as a couple. They might give us custody.”

Your shoulders slumped, “I don’t want to get married just to get custody of my sister.” It certainly wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry Spencer, just not like this.

He nodded understandingly, “I know, but I’m just saying. If that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it.” Placing a comforting hand on your knee, the two of you sat in silence for a moment. “Do you have any ideas?” He asked you carefully.

Looking through the blinds of the conference room, you saw the rest of the team coming back to the precinct. Setting your jaw, you nodded, “I might.”

Opening the door, you had Maya go in with Spencer while you approached your Unit Chief. “Hey,” Hotch said, a glint of sympathy in his eyes. “How are you holding up?” He pulled you away from the people, wanting to give you privacy.

This wasn’t fair, they were still working on an active case. A case that was disturbingly close to you, and yet, you felt you were out of options. “I need a favor,” you blurted to him, wringing your hands. Your nervous energy made it impossible for you to stay still.

Hotch nodded, “What do you need?” He asked, studying your composure with the eye of a profiler.

You took a deep breath, “I was… I need you to call in a favor with someone. Anyone, really. The state won’t let me take custody of Maya, but I can’t let her become a ward of the state. Not when I’m right here, ready, willing, and able to take her.”

“Okay,” he responded, not even pausing to think about it.

Taken aback, you looked at him curiously, “I- that’s it? I had groveling prepared.”

He nodded almost imperceptibly as if he was trying to tell you it wasn’t necessary. “You’ve been a part of this team for years and not once have you ever asked for anything in return for everything you do for everyone else. This is the least I can do,” he told you.

You couldn’t help it. Overwhelmed, you tackled Hotch in a bear hug, “Thank you.” Your voice was low, “Thank you so much.”

Succinctly, Hotch hugged you back before you pulled away, “I’ll go make some calls.”

It was the smell.

The smell that you’d sensed countless times before on the job, the metallic tang of the blood. It should’ve been mostly dried by now – you supposed you were more susceptible to the scent, considering it was your parent’s blood, but it put you on high alert.

Emily had brought you by so that you could pack a bag for Maya, but you found yourself stuck on the landing. To one side, there was your childhood bedroom and Maya’s room. On the other side, there was your parent’s room.

“Y/N?” Emily called your name from downstairs, “Are you alright?”

No, you wanted to say, but you bit your tongue, scanning the house you had grown up in. “This doesn’t belong here,” you told her, glancing behind you as she made her way up the staircase.

You didn’t have gloves, so instead you pointed at the figurine that was resting on the bookshelves, a little bear facing in the direction of your parent’s bedroom door. “This is in the wrong spot?”

Nodding, your eyes followed the ceramic bear as Emily picked it up with a gloved hand. “It’s mine, it should be in my room,” you informed her. Your parents never changed anything about your childhood bedroom, not since you moved out. “It was like it was watching them,” you thought aloud.

“Do you think the UnSub did it?” She asked you gently, her voice was low but steady.

Blinking rapidly, you kept your eyes focused on the figurine, “Little Bear,” you murmured, “They called her Little Bear.”

Emily shook her head in confusion, dark hair swaying as her head moved. “Who was called Little Bear?”

Dropping the bag you had packed to the floor, you buried your face in your hands, “I should’ve seen it sooner.” The victimology, it all suddenly made sense to you. “When I was a kid, there was a family like mine. A brother who was in his twenties when his parents had another baby, a girl. They called her Little Bear.”

Realization dawned on Emily’s dark features, “Like this bear?”

You picked up the bag and started making your way back down the stairs. “Their mother made those figurines. The parents died in a fire two weeks ago – they left everything to the younger sister. It was all over the news. God, I should’ve figured it out sooner.”

“Hey,” Emily said sympathetically, “You had other things going on. None of this was your fault.” Her voice was stern, harsher than you’d ever heard her, as she pulled out her phone and called the team.

Your teammate drove, passing the police station on the way to drop you off. They left for the takedown, and you felt yourself floating into the precinct. Maya was waiting in the conference room for you, watching cartoons on someone’s laptop.

Kneeling in front of your little sister, you tapped the space bar, pausing the video. “Hey, kiddo,” you whispered, reaching over, and smoothing her hair away from her face. “How are you feeling?”

She had cried herself to sleep earlier, and you felt like you hadn’t been around enough. Maya sat up on the couch and rubbed her eyes, they were red, but not teary. “I miss mommy,” she told you, pouting slightly.

You nodded gently, moving to sit next to her before you pulled her into your lap. At six years old, she was all gangly limbs, just starting to grow into her own person. Just old enough to understand death, “I know, baby. I miss them too.”

“They wouldn’t lemme go home,” she continued, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I wanted Thumper,” she whined, sounding younger than she was.

Looking up at the light, you silently begged for your tears to go away. “I got him for you,” you told her, reaching into your bag and producing the small stuffed bunny that you had given her as a baby.

You savored the way her eyes lit up as she grabbed the stuffed animal from you.

“So, you and Thumper are gonna come to stay with me in Virginia. Do you remember going there? You said you liked it?” You kept smoothing her hair back as she held her toy.

She was silent for a moment, “Will Spencer be there?” She asked quietly.

Smiling slightly, you nodded, “He and I live together, so he’ll be there with us.” Slowly, you started rocking back and forth, trying to soothe the both of you simultaneously.

“As long as he doesn’t pull money out of my ear,” she answered succinctly, shutting her eyes as she leaned up against you.

There was approximately an hour before you watched the team return to the precinct, slowly, you laid Maya down on the couch before walking out. “It was a clean shoot,” you heard Rossi tell Morgan, and one look at the rest of them told you everything you needed to know.

The team went back to the hotel, and Spencer filled you in on the funeral arrangements he had made on your behalf. You were about to try to get some sleep when Hotch approached you and told you he needed to speak to you.

“I called a good friend of mine on your behalf, and he gave me some information. We were able to work out a plan,” he told you, sitting across from you in the hotel lobby.

You were about to tell him that a case plan wouldn’t work, but he held his hand out, telling you to wait.

He nodded before he kept going, “He was able to file an emergency request to grant you temporary custody of Maya, and it was granted.”

You felt sick to your stomach, “She’s mine?”

“Temporarily, you’ll have to take care of some formalities back in Virginia, but you have full custody of her,” he informed you. “You’re being granted family leave, and I’ve encouraged Reid to apply for it as well,” Hotch told you, reaching out and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I am… I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through this but thank you for coming to me when you needed the help.”

You nodded absentmindedly, your head still whirling with the information that you had just been given. Stumbling, you walked back to your hotel room that you were sharing with Spencer and Maya.

The funeral was planned, the custody issue was solved, all there was left to do was…

“Baby?” Spencer said softly as you swung open the door, “Everyone else took Maya to get ice cream, I figured it couldn’t-“ his voice broke off at your first sob.

Everything you had held in came bursting out, all of the grief and stress and exhaustion nearly knocked your legs out from underneath you.

But Spencer was there to catch you.

part two

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

GUILTY AS SIN...? - PART I

summary: one summer with the man you can't have, but can't stop thinking about.

pairing: cillian murphy x popstar!reader

word count: 5.5k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). mentions of sex. angst. cussing, slight age gap, mentions of alcohol and divorce. no use of y/n, heavily inspired by ts and ttpd. if i missed something please let me know. (also this is a work of fiction, none of it reflects how i feel about the people mentioned in this, most importantly cillian's wife, who im sure is a sweetheart irl. it's fiction, just relax and enjoy it, and if not, move along, friends.)

a/n: hi everyone! this turned out pretty long so i will be splitting it into parts so it's easier. next part will be posted soon. i hope you all have as much fun reading this as i had writing it. enjoy!

part two

The breeze riffled through your hair as you drove, the sun warming your skin through the open windows. The Irish countryside stretching out before you, lush and green, with rolling hills and quaint villages dotting the landscape. The scent of wildflowers and the sound of nothing but the wind in the trees filled your senses.

It was rare, really. The silence, the feeling of complete freedom, and the solitude that enveloped you. A fleeting escape from the chaos of your everyday life.

The ping of your phone interrupted the peaceful moment. You tapped on the pop-up notification after briefly glancing at the directions to your destination. It was a message from Cillian. Well, two, actually. One was asking how far you were, and the other was a Spotify link followed by a question mark. Ever since he started hosting his bbc radio show, he's been sending you potential songs for his playlists to get your opinion. Not that he needs it anyway. But you always appreciate being included in his process.

Your lips curled into a smile as you clicked on the link. The familiar sound of The Blue Nile's "The Downtown Lights" flooded the car, instantly making you feel a wave of nostalgia. It's been ages since you've listened to that song. The synth-pop melody carries you up the pine-dotted path to where his house perches atop a hill, overlooking the crashing waves below. You've been here a couple of times, and yet it never gets less breathtaking. The Victorian architecture contrasting beautifully with the rugged coastline, creating a scene straight out of a painting.

The car glides right past the wrought iron gates, and you cut the engine in front of the stone steps leading up to the grand entrance. You shoot Cillian a quick text letting him know you're here, unbuckle your seat belt, and hop out of the car.

The June sun beats down on your skin instantly, heat radiating off the cobblestones as you open the backdoor to look through your bag for a hair tie. The smell of saltwater mingles with the sound of gulls overhead, sending you into sensory overload. "Gotcha," you mutter to yourself as you finally find the hair tie and pull your hair back into a loose bun.

"You drove here?" you hear him call out from behind you, his voice tinged with surprise. "And you're alone?" you turn around to see Cillian walking towards you, a curious expression on his face.

"I actually had to throw a tantrum to convince them to let me come alone," you reply with a chuckle, feeling a sense of pride at your small victory. "I was like, It's Ireland. What's the worst that could happen?"

Being who you are means being guarded against any potential danger or harm at all times, being driven to almost everywhere, and always having a security team around.

Cillian laughs, a sound that makes your heart flutter and makes you want to hear it again and again. "Well, I'm glad you made it here in one piece, love," he says with a grin. "You're not a very good driver."

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You did regret your decision to drive from the airport 10 minutes later when you realized you were on the wrong side of the road. But he didn't need to know that.

"I made it in one piece, didn't I?" you playfully retort, trying to salvage your wounded pride. Cillian chuckles and shakes his head with a twinkle in his eye. You stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. He looks good, you thought. Unbelievably good. Well rested. His jet black hair was perfectly styled, even though you know he didn't put any effort into it—the slightest hint of silver at the temples, his sharp jawline, and those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. Though they looked a little tired, as if he had been through a lot since the last time you saw him.

You quickly avert your gaze, feeling a rush of heat on your cheeks.

"It's good to see you," you finally manage to say, trying to sound casual. Cillian's smile softens, and he replies, "It's good to see you too." He opens his arms, inviting you in for a hug. The soft fabric of his t-shirt brushes against your skin as you embrace him, and for a moment, everything feels right in the world.

"Come on, let's get inside," he says, leading you towards the house. Once inside, you make your way to the kitchen. The house was quiet; you wondered if anyone else was home. Cillian's family wasn't by any means loud or boisterous, but the silence felt heavier than usual.

"You hungry, love?" Cillian asks, opening the fridge, pulling out a white ceramic container, and setting it up on the kitchen island. You take a seat on one of the stools while he stands across from you.

"For something sweet?" you smile, seeing the container filled with what seems to be a piece of strawberry sponge cake. His mom must've made it. "Always," you reply. He hands you a spoon and takes one for himself, the two of you sharing the dessert in comfortable silence.

Until he broke it.

"How was Madrid?" he asks softly.

"It was good, great crowd," you reply, taking another bite of the dessert. "But tiring," you add, feeling the exhaustion of the long trip settling in.

"How many nights did you perform?"

"Four."

"Jesus, that's quite a lot, isn't it?"

Your eyes meet his; confusion clear in your expression. "You think that's a lot? Didn't you used to do four or five nights in a row of the same play?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "for months…?

"Yeah, but that was a different kind of exhaustion," he explains, taking another bite. "Performing the way you do in front of a live audience for three hours is a whole different ball game, love."

Love.

There it was again. That godforsaken term of endearment that he seemed to throw around so casually. It made your heart race every time he said it, even though you knew it probably meant nothing to him. But the way he looked at you now, with a hint of admiration in his eyes, made you wonder if maybe—

"Want the last bite?" he offered, taking you out of your thoughts. He pushed the container towards you, a small smile playing on his lips. His gaze was intense, as if silently urging you to take it.

"Oh, hello," a voice exclaimed from behind you, breaking the moment. You drop the spoon on the counter, a little startled. As if you were caught in the act of something forbidden. You turned around to see Yvonne, Cillian's wife. She said your name with a surprised tone, making you feel guilty for some reason. "I didn't know you were here," she continued, her eyes flickering between you and her husband.

You started to rise from your seat, confusion clouding your thoughts. That's weird. Cillian usually lets his wife know when you're visiting, but this time it seems like he didn't. She walked towards you, enveloping you in a hug. "When did you get here?" she said.

"Not long ago," you replied, relieved that she didn't seem upset. "I, uh, wanted to take a break and thought Ireland might be a good place to do that," you added, hoping to diffuse any tension that may have arisen. She nodded understandingly. "And you're staying here?"

"Oh, no, no," you quickly assured her. "I rented a place nearby, so you don't have to worry about me."

"Nonsense," Cillian interjected. "You can stay here. There's plenty of room."

"She's already paid for it, Cillian," Yvonne retorted, giving him a stern look.

Something was definitely off.

This was the last thing you wanted. You've specifically chosen the cottage for two reasons. First, to have space. The whole point of this trip was to finally have peace and write music. You've been stuck for months, not being able to find inspiration in your usual surroundings. Everything felt dull inside you all day—an emptiness that was smothering.

Second, you needed to stay the fuck away from Cillian. Being close to him was dangerous territory, one you didn't want to navigate right now. The plan was to come and visit and occasionally hang out and that's it. The thought of being in such close quarters with him was overwhelming. Staying here meant risking your heart and sanity.

You hesitated, also not wanting to intrude on their space, but Cillian insisted.

"Okay…How about if I stay for a couple of days and then move to the cottage?" you suggested, hoping to compromise. "Sounds perfect to me," he said.

This was going to be a long summer.

For the next few days, you dream too much, don't write enough, and try to find inspiration everywhere. As you settled into the routine of staying at Cillian's, you found yourself enjoying the peaceful surroundings and his company more than you expected. The days seemed to blend together, filled with laughter, deep conversations, and stolen glances that left your heart racing.

But you also felt constantly distracted by his presence, making it difficult to focus on your writing or anything else, for that matter.

All you could think about was him.

The piano room surrounded you with its warm, inviting atmosphere, and you found yourself drawn to it more often than not. The big windows overlooking the garden let in streams of sunlight, casting a warm glow over the bookshelf. You felt the softness of the carpet as you sat on the grand piano bench, running your fingers along the keys absentmindedly.

You started humming a tune that had been stuck in your head for days, the words appearing softly and effortlessly as you played:

Please

I've been on my knees

Change the prophecy

Don't want money

Just someone who wants my company

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

Who do I have to speak to

About if they can redo

The prophecy?

The humming went on whenever you didn't know what to say next, filling in the gaps between the notes on the piano and the lyrics:

A greater woman has faith

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

I'm so afraid I sealed my fate

No sign of soulmates

I'm just a paperweight

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

Spending my last coin so someone will tell me

It'll be ok

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

The melody filled the room until you stopped abruptly, frustrated that the lyrics weren't coming as easily as before. You closed your eyes with a groan, trying to clear your mind. "Fuck," you muttered under your breath, elbows resting on the keys of the piano.

"You good?" Cillian's rough voice broke through your frustration, causing you to look up and offer a weak smile. You don't know how long he's been standing there or how much he heard of your struggles. "Just hitting a wall with this song," you admitted, running a hand through your hair.

"Ah, I see," he nodded sympathetically. He moved towards the records stacked on the shelf and pulled one out, placing it on the turntable. "I don't want to mess with your creative process or anything, but maybe a break with some music will help," he suggested.

Radiohead's "Fake Plastic Trees" began to play, taking over the room with its haunting melody.

"So you play one of the saddest songs ever?" you deadpanned, "Thanks."

He chuckled softly, "You were playing some pretty intense stuff; I figured it would fit right in."

Oh, so he did hear you.

"Ah, I know it's different from my usual stuff," you said quietly, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious about your music. "I might scrap that one. They might not be onboard with the change."

"And why's that?"

Thom Yorke's voice faded into the background as you contemplated his question, unsure of how to respond.

You shrugged, "I listen to sad music, not make it."

"I liked what I heard," he reassured you, "and change is good. It keeps things interesting."

His low voice was soothing, and you found yourself feeling more at ease with the idea of trying something new. Pop has been your comfort zone for so long, it's what stands out of you, but most importantly, it's what sells. At least, that's what's important to the industry. Maybe it was time to push yourself out of it.

"I guess you're right," you replied, a faint smile creeping onto your face.

"As always," he said, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. He stood leaning against the table where the record player sat, arms crossed, looking as if he had too many things to say and not enough words for them.

"Would this be a good time to ask you if everything's okay?" you inquired, noticing the weight of unspoken thoughts in his eyes. "With Yvonne, I mean," you added, nervous to bring up the topic.

That first day, when you arrived at the house, you could sense there was something going on between them. Something bad. The tension in the air was so obvious, but you didn't want to pry. However, as the days went by, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the fact that she hadn't been around or the absence of a certain ring on his finger.

"And here, I thought you were never going to ask," he replied, his words laced with sarcasm.

"I was waiting for you to bring it up," your voice trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. "I-I didn't want to overstep."

He studied you for a moment, or at least, you assumed that was what he was doing. Finally, he averted his gaze and cleared his throat,"We've separated."

A cold feeling settled in your chest as you processed his words. The reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks, and suddenly everything made sense. "Cillian," is all you managed to say, the concern evident in your voice.

He still wouldn't look at you. Knowing him, in moments like this, he wouldn't want to be coddled or pitied, so you save your apologies for later.

"What happened?"

He waved his hand dismissively, still avoiding your gaze. "Nothing, really," he said, his tone final. He didn't look upset, but rather resigned to the situation. "It hadn't been working for a long time; we both knew it was coming. I guess we were holding on for the boys more than anything." You could see the sadness in his eyes, despite his attempt to appear nonchalant. The weight of his words hung in the air, leaving you feeling defeated and unsure of what to say next. You don't think there's anything you can say that will make this or him feel better.

And boy, did you wish you could take away his pain with just a few words.

Cillian walked slowly over the piano, stopping in front of it. He streched his arms over the wooden soundboard, gripping the edges tightly as if seeking some sort of solace in the instrument. He finally looked at you.

"Why didn't you say anything, Cill?" you asked softly, "I would've—"

"You would've what?" he interrupted, his voice strained with emotion. "I didn't want to worry you, you have more important things than my marital issues."

You could see the pain in his eyes, and it tore at your heart to see him suffering in silence. "You're my friend. These things are important to me, Cill," you said gently, reaching out to touch his hand in a gesture of comfort. He flinched slightly at your touch, but then relaxed, leaning into your hand.

He didn't say anything, but you knew he appreciated your words. You could tell by the way his shoulders slumped in relief and the way his fingers loosened their grip on the edge of the piano.

One morning, you woke up to the wind gently rustling through the trees outside your windows. The morning light was clear and clean, leaking through the glass and falling against the walls of the room in soft patterns. It felt too early to be awake, too peaceful to disturb the tranquility of the moment.

You roll over to look at the little clock on the bedside table: 6:20 AM. It wasn't worth trying to go back to sleep, so you threw the covers and climbed out of bed, feeling the cool wood floor beneath your feet as you walked to the bathroom.

You splash cold water on your face and brush your teeth, trying to wake yourself up fully. Holding up your hair, you tie it into a ponytail while walking over the bedside table to grab your phone and airpods. You put one in your ear and hit shuffle on one of your morning playlists. You couldn't function without some music. "Keep On Loving You" by Cigarettes After Sex starts playing.

On your way to the kitchen, you walked by Cillian's room and noticed the door was slightly ajar. Who the hell sleeps with their door open? Psychos, probably. Curiosity getting the best of you, you peeked inside to see him sprawled out on his bed, body illuminated by the soft morning light filtering through the curtains—characteristic warm and cool shades revealing every hollow and speck of bare muscle. He slept with every limb stretched out, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. It was a rare sight, quite poetic.

He looked so peaceful, completely unaware of your presence. So you let your mind wander.

You imagined yourself crossing the room, pulling yourself on top of him. You imagined the way his bare body would look beneath you, his chest rising and falling with each breath, his dark hair messy around his face, his skin warm against yours. His hands—rough and soft at the same time—running over your thigh, your breast, your neck. You could almost feel the heat of his touch, the intensity of his gaze as he looked up at you.

But then reality snapped back into focus.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath. This was just a fantasy, a dangerous game to play with someone who was somewhat off-limits. But truth be told, the temptation was becoming harder to resist with each passing moment. It was all you could think about ever since he told you about his troubled marriage.

It took a long time for your heartbeat to slow. You headed to the kitchen to get some coffee, hoping that the caffeine would help clear your mind. As you rummage through the cabinets for a mug, his voice startles you from behind. "Need some help with that?" he asks, making you jump.

For a moment you thought you were still imagining things, but you turn around to see him standing there with a t-shirt on as opposed to five minutes ago. Great, him walking around shirtless in his kitchen, sleepy-eyed, messy hair, and rough morning voice would've been lethal.

"I've got it, thanks," you reply, shaking the mug slightly in your hand. You quickly pour yourself some coffee and try to focus on the task at hand: looking for the sugar.

"Sleep well?" he asks, voice still husky from sleep, his accent more prominent. He's rifling through the cabinet for a mug of his own. You can't help but notice the way his muscles flex under his dark t-shirt as he reaches up. You hum in agreement, trying to hide your blush as you take a sip of your coffee. "You?"

"Grand," he replies, pouring himself a cup of coffee and leaning against the counter. You exchange small talk about the upcoming day, but your mind keeps drifting back to how good he looks in the morning light.

"Any plans for today other than locking yourself in the piano room?" he teases, and you shoot him a playful glare. "Maybe I'll actually venture outside for once," you quip, laughing.

"How does the beach sound like?" he asks, "The boys are coming over, and they're bringing some friends, and I thought a trip would be a nice change of scenery."

"I could use some sun," you admit, feeling a smile tug at your lips.

"Let's make it a beach day then," he suggests, setting his mug on the sink. "We leave at 10, piano woman."

"Ha ha, very funny," you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. "But I'll hold you to it, annoying man," you reply.

"Annoying man?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow. "I thought I was your favorite person."

"Only on days that end in 'y'."

•••

"Are you done with your sad boy music?"

Cillian bursts out laughing, the sound taking you by surprise. He's been playing Radiohead on repeat for the whole car ride, and you were starting to feel like you were in a melancholy music video. "I like their music as much as the next person, but I think I need a break from the sadness," you say.

"Fine, fine," Cillian concedes, reaching for his phone to change the song. The bleak atmosphere in the car lifts as "Linger" by The Cranberries starts playing, filling the space with a more pleasant vibe. Cillian glances at you, he's wearing dark shades that hide his eyes, but you can still see his stoic expression softening as he catches you smiling at the change in music.

"Better?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Instead of answering, you start silently singing along to the lyrics, gesticulating dramatically for added effect. Cillian smiles at your antics, his own lips twitching in amusement as he watches you. The boys were so caught up in their conversation with their friends in the backseat that you were pretty sure they weren't even paying attention to the music or your impromptu performance. With a small smile on your face, you face out the window and enjoy the rest of the car ride in content silence.

When you arrive at your destination, all of you unbuckle your seat belts once Cillian puts the Bronco in park. You all pile out of the car, stretching your legs and taking in the sights around you. You close your eyes for a second and take a breath. The sea air—you loved that smell.

•••

A few hours later, after countless swims and some snacks, you find yourself lying on a beach towel, book in hand, feeling the warmth of the temperature on your skin. You're reading a book you picked up at an airport several months ago by Elin Hilderbrand, or the queen of beach reads, as many call her. You were completely engrossed in the story until you felt Cillian settling down next to you.

His hair was damp from the water, and his skin was slightly glistening. Gosh, he looked absolutely stunning. "Mind if I join you?" he asks.

"Not at all," you reply, closing the book and sitting up. "Having fun?"

"Lots," he says with a smile, reaching over to grab his sunglasses. The two of you sit in comfortable silence. The laughter and chatter of his sons and friends coming from the water redirects your attention back to the beach scene before you. You look back at Cillian, his eyes fixed on his sons.

"They love you, you know," you say softly, watching the genuine joy on his face as he watches his children.

"I don't know if I'm doing it right," he says, eyes still fixed on the boys. "I worry I might've fucked them up by letting my relationship with their mother fall apart."

He continues, "Sometimes I feel they resent me for it."

"Why do you feel that way?"

"I don't know, they just seem distant sometimes. Like they're holding back."

"Hey, that's normal for kids to have mixed feelings about their parents' separation. I was so happy when mine got divorced because it meant no more fighting, but it was also tough to adjust to the changes. It's very conflicting stuff," you say, huffing a small laugh. "Also, they're teenagers now, right? That's a tough age to navigate even without the added stress of divorce."

Cillian nods in agreement, exhaling out a yeah.

You squint against the sunlight beaming behind his head before continuing.

"You're a great dad, you always have been. Just show up and be there for them when they need you, even if they don't always seem to appreciate it. They'll remember it in the long run," you offer, remembering how much your own father's presence meant to you after your parents' divorce. "And I'm not a parent, but what parent feels like they're doing everything right all the time, anyway?"

Cillian turns to look at you. He studies your face for a moment before offering a small smile. "I guess you're right," he says sincerely.

"Fork found in kitchen," you retort, breaking the tension with a bit of humor.

He chuckles, "That's clever."

"Well," you continue, "I've been accused of many things over the years, but being unoriginal isn't one of them."

He laughs. Just like he did back in the car: a genuine, carefree laugh that makes you feel a little lighter.

"Want to go for one last swim, piano woman?"

You roll your eyes. "Will you stop calling me that?"

"Not likely," Cillian replies with a grin. "It's too fitting."

You stand up and stretch. You're wearing a one-piece teal-ish swimsuit that you swear you only chose based on comfort and not because it makes your ass and breasts look fantastic. Cillian's eyes linger on you for a moment before he looks away, and you swear you can see a hint of a blush on his cheeks. He doesn't move.

"Are you coming or…?"

"Right, one last swim," he finally says, standing up and following you towards the water.

Maybe that one last swim wasn't a great idea after all.

And why is that?

Because not even five minutes into the water, you thought it would be a good idea to jump from a high rock, and now you're sitting in the car with your knee scrapped, throbbing in pain, and regretting your impulsive decision.

•••

"You're so fuckin' stubborn."

You try to move into a more comfortable position while ignoring the pain shooting up your leg by pressing a hand against one side of the door to keep yourself steady. "And you're so clearly overreacting."

Cillian pushes his bedroom door open. He's also clearly pissed. The ride back to the house was deathly silent. Well, not silent. His sad boy music made a return, and this time with Broken Social Scene. You couldn't ask him to change the music without starting another argument. Even the kids were quiet, beyond asking several times if you were okay, which you assured them you were. Obviously a lie.

As Cillian walks around the room, you reach for your midi white beachy dress and look down at your knee in horror. It's no longer just a bruise, but a gash that is slowly oozing blood. Not as much as before, but still. It looks nasty underneath the shirt Cillian used from his car as a makeshift bandage.

He grabs the first aid kit from a shelf and turns around to face you.

"Take off your dress."

"Pardon me?"

"Take off your dress so I can properly clean and bandage the wound," Cillian repeats, his expression serious. You look down at the blood-stained fabric as if you needed any more confirmation. "Off, C'mon."

You stiffen at his demand, your body going completely rigid at his bossy tone. You watch him stride into his bathroom. He pushes aside some stuff on the counter and tosses the kit onto the counter.

Okay, yeah. He has good reason to be upset. You had no business jumping from that rock.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he'd said before, right when he went to get you. And now you can see the anger still simmering beneath the surface.

You can hear him shuffle in the bathroom while you remove your dress. You still have your swimsuit on underneath, but you feel exposed without the extra layer. Maybe the pain is catching up to you or the fact that you have upset him or that he's waiting for you in the bathroom to take care of you but tears sting your eyes as you try to process the situation. You take a moment to collect yourself. You cannot go in there like this, he cannot see you this vulnerable. At least, not now.

He's braced against the counter, head hung low, when you push open the bathroom door. You nearly back out to give him some space or time to compose himself, but his eyes meet yours and his expression straightens. He clears his throat and then freezes. "I—you're wearing your swimsuit."

"I am. Were you expecting me to change into something else?"

"No," he grumbles, "I mean, nevermind."

He turns back and starts grabbing sterile gauze, his movements slightly jerky. He gestures for you to sit on the counter. "Up."

"I'm not sure I can do that given my—" Before you're done speaking, he scoops you up and sets you on the counter. Your hands are locked around his neck, and his are firmly gripping your waist. They fit perfectly there, like they're made to hold you close.

He reaches behind him, both your faces close together now, and grabs your wrists, pulling them away from his neck and onto your thighs. He puts a hand on your uninjured leg, his touch gentle yet firm. "This is going to hurt." You stare at his impossible blue eyes and think to yourself: yes, this is going to hurt.

"Oh, shit shit," you gasp, gripping his forearm. "Holy fuuuck."

"I've got you, breathe," he commands, and you allow yourself to focus on his voice, letting it ground you. The antiseptic burns both your nostrils and knee as he continues to clean the wound, the pain shooting through your leg causing you to clench your teeth.

"I'm sorry," you breathe out.

There's nothing but silence in response.

"I told you multiple times not to go up there," he finally says, his voice tinged with frustration. "And yet."

"I know," you whisper, feeling guilty.

"Don't do that again," he commands, his accent thickening with emotion. "You could've hurt yourself even more."

"I know," you repeat, not sure how else to respond.

His head is bowed in concentration as he finishes cleaning the wound, his hands steady despite the anger in his voice. You can see his dark eyelashes fluttering slightly as he works. He applies a little more pressure to the bandage than he should've, and you let out a soft moan. This doesn't go unnoticed by him.

The air in the room seems to shift. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see something soften in his gaze before he looks away.

"You're not supposed to like that."

Your cheeks heat up immediately.

He's gotten closer to you, your hands somehow made their way to fist his navy blue linen shirt. His body is between your legs, the delicate material of his pants brushing your skin. His breath is warm against your cheek as he leans in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't say I mind it either." Your heart races at his proximity, unsure of what to do next.

His hands slide up your thighs, gently caressing your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He's going to kiss you, and you can't help but wonder if it's the right decision to let him.

But now is not the time to be rational about it.

"I'm not gonna stop you," you say quietly, "I wouldn't know how."

His eyes darken, pupils dilating with desire. He doesn't move.

It's like you're both aware of the line you're about to cross, so neither of you moves.

You keep your eyes firmly on his face. His lips inch closer to yours, and you feel the heat of his breath on your skin. Your body is angled towards his, hand gripping the edge of the counter. Your slightly damp hair, now cold, making you shiver.

He's impossibly hard against you, the material of his pants is thin, and you're aware of every inch of him pressing against your throbbing core.

"And I wouldn’t know how to stop kissing you," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. He shifts slightly, causing his erection to press even more firmly against you, both letting out a soft moan. His mouth hovers just inches from yours, just kiss me, you thought.

There's a knock on the bedroom door, which is, by the way, open.

"Dad?" You both freeze.

The bathroom door is slightly ajar, offering a sliver of privacy but not enough to shield you from any potential interruptions.

"Yes?" Cillian calls out, trying to sound casual despite the intense moment that was just interrupted. "We're ordering takeout, do you want anything?"

"No, buddy, we're good, thanks," Cillian replies, his voice strained as he tries to keep his composure. You hear the steps retreating down the hallway.

Cillian steps back, and the absence of his body against yours is jarring. It clearly would've been a mistake to take this further, but a mistake that would've felt so fucking good.

"We shouldn't do this."

He clears his throat. "Yeah."

He moves towards the door, his movements tense and purposeful. "I'm gonna—" he says, motioning the door.

"Yeah," you quickly reply, "I got it."

You watch him leave, the air heavy with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires.

a/n: thank you for reading! please share your thoughts with me, let me know if you guys enjoyed it :)

part two

[leviathanxprincess]

Introducing The Kings to Your Plushies

me and my bestie have a joke about my faves showing up to my place for sex and i would not realize and just start talking about my plushies based on this dumb post we saw once, thought it'd be funny to turn into an actual scenario lol might do this for the other devils, angels, minhyeok if the ppl are interested lol notes: mildly sexual - not really anything deeply insane, gender neutral reader !!!

Satan

On one hand, he thinks you're really cute. On the other hand, he's here to fuck so.

He's going back and forth so much in his head for a moment he's not even paying attention to you talking oops.

Gets so frustrated and angered from trying to decide what to do it ultimately ends with him just jumping on you.

Cut you off mid word with an incredibly heat filled kiss from rage.

Honestly you might not even 100% be certain what happened but you're not complaining!! You can always talk about the rest of your plushies later!!!

Well. If Satan doesn't fuck you until the point you're resting for the next couple days.

Once he actually pays attention to you talking about them he'll remember some names here and there, but he will get them wrong on purpose to try and see you angry lol.

Mammon

The reality is he probably got you most of these plushies.

He adores seeing how you cherish them and the lore you've decided for them!!

Will remember every single detail you tell him about them!!

He thinks it's super cute and will humor you for the moment.

However, Mammon will get what he wants eventually. But for right now you're so adorable how could he tell you no?

He is DEFINITELY teasing you later once he does get to sleep with you about how cute you are.

This man lives to see you embarrassed and shy from his compliments.

Is probably buying you even MORE plushies now, hope you're prepared for that!

Leviathan

I think it depends at the point in your relationship, if it's early on he might just toss the plushies aside and get to the point of what he wants.

Later on I do think he genuinely listens, even if he's impatient and pretends like he doesn't care. If it's important to you he does care, just doesn't always show it.

Especially if you use the plushies as a form of comfort due to trauma or any other issues.

You won't even realize how much he paid attention until he refers to your plushies by their names if you accidentally leave them laying around.

However he does still get jealous so so easily so maybe try not to spend too much time at once focusing on them rather than him.

He tries so hard but eventually the jealousy will overtake him and he will just get straight to the sex.

For what it's worth, he still found you cute! He just can't help himself.

Beelzebub

I'm not gonna lie, you might be able to successfully distract him for a good bit.

Dude's invested in the names and lore and anything you have created for them!!! He likes hearing about it !!!!

He isn't gonna be able to remember every single bit of these details but he might remember some of it here and there. Either way he likes listening to how you talk about them!

That being said he can only sit still for so long so maybe introduce him a little at a time lmao.

Especially because once he DOES start to get distracted he's gonna remember the original reason he was here.

And well. Yeah just like that it's time to fuck!

Because you successfully distracted him for a bit you might be in store for an extra long session this time so! Good luck!

Lucifer

He listens fully. Wants to hear everything you have to say about them.

He finds the plushies super cute, so he enjoys listening to your ramblings, even if he had certain intentions when he arrived.

But most importantly, he's so endeared, you're so absolutely adorable to him. The way your face lights up when you talk about them, he can't get enough!!!!

So he lets you have your moment.

And when you're finally done is when he's actually gonna fuck you lol. Yeah, that was still happening he had a goal.

And if he's teasing you extra specially tonight, don't even worry about it (whether it be from compliments or degradation who's to say!! just know you're gonna be crying extra hard this time he's so worked up from how cute you are!).

Of course, he remembers every single detail you tell him, he has that shit committed to memory. Asks you questions sometimes to see that adorable look on your face again!

Belphegor

Goodnight.

He tries to pay attention but he's ready to fall asleep apologies.

He showed up for sex and when it wasn't happening his brain turned off.

That being said the second you realize he's asleep and start trying to wake him up he's on you!!

Like okay conversation done we're fucking now right?

It's just easier to give what he wants and lecture him in the process.

It's fine he tries to listen later. That being said if he invites Beleth to listen too don't worry about it. He totally didn't tell him to memorize details for him because he's probably gonna fall asleep again.

Asmodeus

Sorry there's just no way to distract this man from sex.

If he's showing up for sex he's here to for sex !!!!

And he WILL get it!!!

If anything he just starts fucking you while holding up the plushies to you and asking you details about them.

Unfortunately you're kinda too fucked out by that point to truly answer them.

He's a fucking menace apologies.

And he cannot be stopped I fear.

That being said any information he does manage to get out of you he does fully remember!!

It's his own weird way of showing affection, ya know?

[ivysprophecy]

Not so good surprise.

warnings: talk about nipples, nipple piercings, mentions of sex and boners? i think that’s it. obvious cursing.

word count: 728

an: hey guys!! so this is my first time posting in a long time but both my friend and i @kimoralov3 wanted to write little blurbs about jj reacting to nipple piercings so please go show theirs some love!! warning this is unedited so i hope it’s not too incoherent

—

"JJ! Baby are you home?? I got ya a surprise!" you walk through the door with a sneaky smirk on your face, setting your bag on the couch as you walk in.

He walks out of the bedroom adjusting his hat on his head, his eyes clocking your chest the second he looks at you. His mouth is a gap, unable to look away from your chest.

"What's that?" he points at your chest accusatory walking closer, his eyes not moving.

"What's what baby?"

"That- those- right there- those-," his finger reaches out poking at your erected nipple causing you to let out a small yelp raising your hands to cover them.

"Woah! Owe- shit baby you can't touch them yet! They're so fucking sensitive- shit that hurt."

And with that his eyes finally move from your chest up to your face, bulging out of his sockets.

"Shit mama I'm sorry- wait- pause. Time out baby, did you just say I can't touch them yet??"

You nod amused at his reaction, wincing a little at the lasting ache, "Yea, you gotta wait a couple months to let them heal."

"Well how long is that supposed to be??"

"The guy said anywhere from 4-9 months."

"NINE MONTHS??" Your poor boyfriend is flabbergasted, wounded, physically pained by the news. You could swear you see tears swelling in his eyes. "Wait- wait wait wait wait. You're telling me some random guy did this??"

"I mean yea- I had to go to a professional. It just happened to be a guy."

JJ in all honestly couldn't care less if it was a guy or a girl, he's just pissed that it wasn't him who got to do it, to be there, to see it, to see them.

"So I can't touch them at all? Until their all healed up? Mama that's too long... I can't kiss 'em? Touch 'em at all? Shit-" Poor guy is in agony, quite literally spiraling at the thought of not being able to have his hands on them. With or without the piercings. "Doesn't seem like a good surprise mama."

You can't help but laugh at him honestly, he's quite literally almost in tears.

"Are you sure about that baby?" he's about to give his two cents and complain before you carefully lift your tank top over your head and tossing it on the couch next to your bag. "How about now."

Now, the boy is silent. Stuck dead in his tracks, mouth open like a fish out of water gasping for air.

"I know they're a little bruised and swollen so they look funny right now but-"

"Shhhh sh sh sh-" He interrupts you putting a finger to your lips, looking down at them in admiration. Again you can't help but giggle. Your boyfriend has never been one to hide how he feels about anything, usually dramatically as well. "Holy shit mama- look at 'em they've got little jewels 'n shit- look so pretty mama. How am I supposed to not touch these? So beautiful-"

"Well if you want you can help me clean them but that's the closest you're gonna get."

"How do you clean 'em?" Frankly it was adorable that he was so desperate that he was willing to learn.

"I've gotta take a cup, put some saline in there and tilt it back onto them a few times so I can wash them out good- it actually looks kinda silly-"

"But when I do that I can touch them right?"

You can't stop giggling at this point. "Yes JJ, you'll be able to hold 'em while I do it."

"A win is a win I guess- I can do this. For sure."

You press a kiss to your boyfriends lip with a smile still lingering on your face. "You're adorable baby. But I don't think you'll last a day. But you can look at 'em all you want I promise. I have to wear loose shirts anyway so you'll have easier access-"

"Don't tease me right now mama I'm serious- already got me all worked up just by lookin' at 'em."

And sure enough JJ was already working a semi, "Oh you poor thing... why don't we head to the bedroom and let 'mama' fix that for you yea?"

He was off the bedroom, dragging you behind him before you could even finish.

[drvscarlett]

Let Him Cook Pt 6

Charles Leclerc x Masterchef! Reader

Let Him Cook Series 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

A/N: Thank you for that anon who gave me a message for the next part of the series. This one is dedicated for you!

taglist: @bookstore-of-dreams@barcelonaloverf1life@ririyulife@minseok-smaus@mehrmonga@sltwins@charlesgirl16@six-call@spideybv28@casperlikej@weekendlusting@janeholt3 @evie-119@leilanixx @randomgirlnumber-13@itsjustkhaos

Cookies and Grand Prix

Y/NCooks just posted a photo.

Y/NCooks Now that my masterchef duties are done. Its my first time going to a grand prix as Charles' girlfriend. I hope you like cookies

User1 OMG IM GOING TOMORROW!!! OMYGODDDDD

Y/NCooks I'll give you a cookie when I see you! User1 Ohmygod, this is the best. You are the best!

User3 I'm envious of everyone going to Monza this year, Y/N is giving out cookies

User4 The details are everything on those cookies

CarlosSainz55 Im technically a former ferrari driver so can I claim a cookie?

LoganSargeant can i have one too? Y/NCooks this is for everyone!! Make sure to drop by Carlos and Logan! Maxverstappen1 Expect me around! User5 Everybody is a ferrari fan!

"Okay mon amour, so there will be a big crowd when we arrive" Charles briefed you as you get closer to the venue "Make sure to stick close to me."

"Yes honey, I know. Hold your hand and don't let go"

Charles has been extremely stressed and he thinks it might not be a good idea to bring you to Monza for your first GP as a couple. However, you couldn't pass up the opportunity. You have seen how the people cheered for Charles when he won in Monza, the crowd was electrifying. You wonder what will happen if it happens again this weekend.

Besides, you have a basket full of cookies that you prepared to give for those fans of Charles that you will meet.

You were immediately greeted by a huge crowd calling out Charles name. It was no wonder that there was several security guards waiting at Charles' designated parking lot.

It was normal for Charles to stop to take photos and to sign some merch. What surprised the duo was that the fans were asking for Y/N and her cookies.

"We really waited for you guys so we can get some cookies" one of the avid Tifosi said

"I really hope the cookies give ferrari luck"you agreed.

There was a buzz in the paddock as you gave away several more cookies to the different fans you encountered. You managed to give Carlos and Logan since they were also waiting at the parking lot. You were so carried away talking to everyone that you didn't realize that you already ran out of cookies.

"Oh no, I didn't save cookies for your other friends" you concluded upon reaching the garage.

"That's okay mon amour, I'm sure they would understand that there is no more cookies" Charles assured.

And like a comical entrance, a man in full Red Bull gear enters the sea of red uniforms.

"What do you mean no more cookies?" Max asked "I did not just go through all the security details to not have cookies"

"Oops."

Grill the grid: eggs

It was a fairly easy challenge, the media team thought. They believe that there will be no harm to let the drivers cook since its just a simple hard-boiled egg.

There was a stove, a pot, 2 bottles of water, eggs, vinegar, salt, and pepper on the table. They also thought that it will be funny to put unnecessary spices and ingredients on the table so there is grated cheese, spring onions, cinnamon, carrots, and etc..

The drivers entered the room looking confused at the different set up of the Grill the Grid.

"We're giving people what they want, today were actually allowing the drivers to show off their cooking skills with this special episodes of grill the grid"

Charles is obviously happy. He was already raving about how there are different versions of eggs that he tried at home because of Y/N.

"I have already tried doing poached egg, soft-boiled eggs, french omelette, american ones" Charles enumerated "I think I'm the best at making scrambled eggs"

"Its just scrambled"

"There is a technique there" and Charles continued to ramble on the different techniques that he has used to achieve the perfect scrambled eggs.

On the other hand, Oscar is attempting to make a hard boiled egg. He admits to the camera that he did not have any experience of it but he definitely knows how it taste (obviously).

"So Oscar what is your game plan here?"

"Well, I'm planning to boil the water and I think I should add some vinegar and then maybe sugar and salt so the egg will be flavored" Oscar stopped as he heard the giggling on set "Wait am I wrong?"

"No, no, just continue"

"Okay so I think I'm gonna let the eggs cook once the water is rolling then I'm gonna wait for 15-18 minutes because I don't wanna serve raw eggs" Oscar continued.

The staffs are a bit shocked by the length of time. It was beyond overcooked but they wouldn't say anything to the Australian driver.

It cuts to Max who seems to be pretty confident with his skill. Its a simple egg, how hard can it be?

"Of course, we have to get the water boiling and then I'm going to put it in for 5 minutes and then get the egg out" Max explained.

If Oscar has a long waiting time, Max was immediately dropping the egg even before the water is boiling because Max believes that the water is hot to the touch.

"What happened, why is the egg still runny?" Max wondered

He cut off the egg and there was still slimy white and the yolks were uncooked. There was a frown on his face as he looked back at his pot, he thinks he is being sabotaged.

"I'm gonna do it again"

Yuki was excited to do the cooking challenge. He insisted that he will not just make a hard boiled egg but he will also showcase a soft-boiled egg. The staffs were ecstatic to see him running around to get iced water for his eggs.

"I make these weekly so I'm really confident that it will turn out well"Yuki has a permanent grin as he fishes out his soft-boiled egg.

"If you want a soft-boiled egg, boiling water with the bubbles and then 8 minutes on the clock. Then you put it in an ice bath and then peel it" Yuki narrates.

He opens his soft boiled egg and it showcases a jammy yolk and soft whites, the perfect kind of soft-boiled eggs. The studio applauds at Yuki's efforts.

Y/NCooks just posted a photo

Y/NCooks since the episode is out, here is the list of photos sent to me by the crew. Guess which is which.

User2 OHMYGOD, THIS IS SO FUNNY!!!

User3 LOOK AT OSCAR'S REALLY OVERCOOKED EGGS

User6 i was seriously laughing when he said 18 to 20 minutes User7 For real, man thinks he is tenderizing meat

maxverstappen1 i demand a part 2

Charles_Leclerc "its so easy" maxverstappen1 shut up. i have been cooking now kellypiquet p is getting tired of eggs every morning user9 max is really serious to train himself on how to make eggs

User14 I just know that yuki is the one with the best looking egg, so smooth!!!

Y/Ncooks yes!!! User17 charles is the one with the unsmooth peeling Y/NCooks the man can't have it all, i guess

LandoNorris thank God they didn't send you my photo

Y/NCooks lando, i dont think anyone grabbed a photo since the fire department was called CarlosSainz55 you did what???? Charles_Leclerc and they call me as someone who can't cook when we have Lando here being a fire hazard LandoNorris Y/N THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE OUR SECRET User22 atleast team papaya are both needing lessons.

The cookie prank.

Max was still upset that he didn't get to have cookies in Monza. He was really looking forward to it so he wasn't the least suspicious when he allowed Charles inside his home since he brought him cookies.

It was wrong of Max to put down his defenses.

"I'm gonna get some water, you want anything?" Max asked

"No, I'm just gonna get comfortable here with your cats"

Charles stood in front of the cat litter box and he pulled the ziplock bag that he has. Inside the ziplock bag was another set of cookies that looks like cat poops. He laughed quietly as he sets up the scene.

"Max, do you know about that coffee made from poop?" he asked the Dutchman

"Of course, Kopi Luwak" Max replied "Why did you ask?"

Max walked out of the kitchen and he can see clearly how Charles picked up a poop from the litter box. He almost dropped the water that he is holding upon seeing that.

"What if we use cat poop instead" Charles wondered

"CHARLES WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

The pure mortification in Max's face when Charles started eating the poop. It seems like his friend lost his mind after driving in Ferrari for all these years.

"You should try some"

"Y/N, CHARLES IS GOING CRAZY" Max immediately placed you on a call "I THINK HE NEEDS THERAPY"

"Woah slow down Max" you were out on a grocery run and now Max is screaming at your ear

"Hello mon amour"Charles greeted on the other line.

"HE LOST HIS MIND, HE STARTED EATING MY CAT'S POOPS"

You made a mental face palm as you remembered how Charles insisted that you make very realistic cookies that looks like poop. Charles never opened it to you that he will be using it to prank Max. You started laughing at the shock in Max's face.

"Max, those are cookies" you defended

"THEY ARE CAT POOPS, CHARLES LECLERC IS EATING CAT POOPS"

Oh what would you do with these boys.

[disregardandfelicity]

i was lucky enough to attend the premiere on tuesday (as the +1 of a contest winner); in case this is of interest (and, indulgently, to preserve it for my own memory), here are some tidbits from my night:

for the screening, the cast had assigned seats (jacob and delainey in the same row, sam behind jacob, eric behind sam, assad on the other side of the aisle, the same side as rolin, hannah, and mark johnson). sam and jacob were off to the side chatting during intros and never sat in theirs

delainey got applause from the audience upon her first on screen appearance, the only cast member to get one

daniel had a fair few interview beats which got laughs from the audience

afterwards, an actor from the venue came up and gave a little speech as though he was from a sister coven to the TdV in paris. then we were dismissed to the party, which was upstairs

initially post party, assad and luke were in the front larger room of the reception - sam and jacob were, i believe, already gathered in a far back corner in the second room, along with some other people. eric didn't stay for the party

the venue had a couple little 'shows' - at one point the whole cast and some other guests went up several flights of stairs to a room (delainey commented on how many flights there were as we climbed) where a version of the no pain scene from the books was reenacted by venue actors

kalyne coleman was there, i saw her chatting with jacob. i let her cut in front of me for drinks as an excuse to talk to her. there's a nod to grace in the episode and it sounded like that was a surprise to her (a pleasant one!)

my conversations with the cast were deeply unsubstantive, i was too pleased to be there to come up with anything too clever or probing to say tbh

when i spoke to jacob, i started by saying "sorry" (just reflexively) and he immediately, very warmly, was like what are you apologizing for! when i said how excited i was for the season and he said something like 'i hope it doesn't disappoint' (which i did think was surprisingly pessimistic for a premiere party lol but having seen the quote about hoping ppl still like louis by the end, maybe he is actually a tad concerned! i did obviously say i didn't think it would)

sam was the best at these meetings because he very naturally asks questions back. i told him i loved him in the newsreader as well, and he asked whether i was pirating it (i'm not exactly, i had a vpn). then we all walked off to do that no pain scene experience

after the no pain scene, we exited down some stairs which opened to the second smaller room. assad was behind me so i asked him who did it better (these actors or the show), and we joked about that. he then introduced himself to me, and when i couldn't help noting that i did in fact know who he was, he said he would never want to assume. sam came up to us and assad introduced him to me, and i got the joy of saying we'd met!

(SKIP this bullet if you don't want newsreader vibes-based spoilers) sam asked me what i liked better, iwtv or the newsreader. i said iwtv but that newsreader was great and season 2 was so sad! he said season 3 is the last of the series, and told me it's dark and bleak, worse than season 2, maybe only a second of peace/happiness at the end. so. there's that to look forward to....

he also told me about the crossover staffing between shows (emma and the DOP). i tried to ask if he was responsible for any of that but dont think i articulated it well but he said 'you want to work with the people you like'

my delainey convo was brief, i turned while we were walking up to the no pain thing and realized she was next to me, so just took the opportunity to let her know i was excited about her in next season

around 10-ish, sam and jacob left to (i believe?) go to levan's friends bar, along with hannah and others i didn't recognize. assad and luke were around for another 30-40 minutes after that, then the whole thing ended at 11. i didn't notice when or with who delainey left

delainey, as far as i noticed, did the least mingling; assad and luke did the most. generally speaking (and as expected) sam and jacob hung around together or in the same spaces. also perhaps as expected, assad and luke were hanging around together for lots of the night. at the end of the night, when it felt less burdensome to ask, i got a pic with those two. they were very cool about it, luke was sweet, we'd spoken earlier, he stuck out his tongue for one of the shots and he found me again later to chat

that photocall video i took (above) was after the 'no pain' experience.

[set-wingedwarrior]

My most important sapphic ships post before Pride Month ends

What the title says, studying kept (and still keeps me) busy so we gotta go fast lol

Bumbleby (RWBY)

to the surprise of absolutely no one, they get first place (despite me not going in a particular order) because of reasons. They're perfect. Soulmates. Slowburn of all time. Yin and Yang. Eyes the color of each other's souls. Truest OTP to ever OTP in my book. ∞/10

Konosetsu (Negima!)

I already talked about them in their own post, this scene changed my life leading to my self-discovery and it still lives rent-free in my mind.

Kyosaya (Madoka Magica)

I'd also add MadoHomu but I'm trying to keep it to just one for each fandom. That said, they still make me mentally unwell. I love them, and I did for a long time now. I can't wait for the next movie to come out and suffer.

Ruby and Sapphire (Steven Universe)

These bitches had the first cartoon gay wedding and kiss DO I NEED TO SAY MORE???

Korrsami (Avatar)

Still down the queer cartoons making history path, these two made me insane back in the day because I still didn't understand I was queer and lots of sapphic couple were starting to appear in media, and I remember jokingly say how "lesbian ships were hauting me". All I can say now is "Thank you" lol. Anyway, they were incredibly important and all the people criticizing how little queerness there's in the show will never understand just how massive this scene was.

Catradora (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Friends to Enemies to back to Friends to Lovers. Iconic. I still want a movie with their adventures bringing magic back to the universe.

Hollstein (Carmilla)

My third beloved blonde with a cat gf ship. I miss this web-series every day. Also, Natasha Negovanlis played an immense role in my gay awakening.

Ellie and Riley (The Last of Us: Left Behind)

Ellie and Dina are adorable and I love them, BUT I just will never get over these two. That dlc fucked me up. (also, they're in the same category with Korrasami as "gay ships that hauted me before I realized I was queer" lol)

Lumity (The Owl House)

I remember starting this show feeling it as the successor of Steven Universe, at least to me. We could say that at level of mistreatment from its parent company, it defenitely surpassed it, but at least I'm glad I was right and we got Luz and Amity becoming canon. I love these two and not a day passes without me yelling at Disney for what it did to them.

Bubbline (Adventure Time)

I actually watched Adventure Time fully only recently, but I always loved them even when I watched the show randomly when it appeared in tv back in the day. Getting to see the progression properly just made me love them even more.

Yasammy (Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous/Chaos Theory)

Incredibly recent addition, but I am so glad that I checked out Camp Cretaceous and got into it. It's a nice show and these two are a really cute couple, their confession and especially Yaz's internal turmoil were just so on point. I was really happy to see them go still strong in Chaos Theory, and I can't wait for next season.

Pricefield (Life is Strange)

These two caused me pain in the best possible way. I felt literal heartbreak at the Bay Ending, and I was just as emotional at the Bae one (Bae > Bay Forever) I hope the new game will respect their relationship OR ELSE.

Wow, this is quite the list. I do have an amazing taste, if I do say so myself, ahah!

Well, I guess this is it for now, glad I could make it before Pride Month was over! Knowing myself I might have actually forgotten some though, so keep an eye out for possible updates (what makes me even think that you'd care? lol).

That would be all, be gay and do crimes! Bye!

[mauesartetc]

A while back I got a comment that demonstrated a misconception as to what the character design process actually entails, and I thought it had real "teachable moment" potential. So let me make this perfectly clear:

Drawing a character is NOT the same as designing one.

Let's say I wanted to draw a guy. No backstory, no defined personality traits or preferences, no details about his current life, just doodling some random, generic guy who popped into my head.

That's just a drawing.

But what if I decided to flesh him out more? What if I wanted his appearance to reflect his lifestyle and inner life as well? Here's where the note-taking comes in.

And now for the visual research:

I thought the bodybuilding angle would provide a fun contrast with this guy's profession. The mental image of a huge, burly dude working on a clock or watch with tiny, precise movements just makes me smile. Perhaps I could give him small, nimble hands that would suit his line of work.

Now that I have a better idea of how Mikhail's face and body will look, it's time to establish a pose.

Of course, I never expected to employ all the personality traits I started out with inside this single pose; those were just a jumping-off point. No one drawing will ever be able to encapsulate every single facet of a character, unless they're extraordinarily flat and generic (see also: random guy I doodled at the start of this post). If I wanted to write a story with this guy, I'd have to figure out how all the traits play off each other and how they'd cause him to react to different situations. There would be a lot more note-taking and development involved, but for the sake of keeping this post (somewhat) brief, let's just focus on visuals for now.

On to color!

I decided to give Mikhail a carnation in his pocket (for its round shape), specifically a red one, which represents deep love and an aching heart. Thus, the flower needed to maintain its red color for the symbolism to come through.

For some reason I initially pictured this guy wearing a pink shirt (perhaps as an offshoot of the "romantic" angle), but I wanted to try some different colors inspired by the 70s catalog pages I found. I ended up really liking the contrast of the cool blue shirt with the warm red pants, and that option made it into my top three as a result. I lined them up next to each other to compare them, and in the end, blue won out over pink. I think it also reflects the "colder", more cerebral, less-emotional parts of his personality well (namely "systematic", "stern", and "callous"- one from each column!). Just goes to show that you shouldn't get too attached to your first draft, as better ideas are just around the corner.

I then lightened the blue of the shirt so it wouldn't compete so much with the rest of the outfit, and wouldn't be quite as loud and "in your face". Mikhail strikes me as a bit of an introvert, so the calmer, quieter blue is a better fit. I added a darker belt and watchband and de-saturated the flower just a bit to make the values feel more balanced, and I think we've got it!

Let's see the final result!

Y'all, I was not expecting this process to make me emotional, but there's something special about fully realizing a little guy you've spent hours working on. All of a sudden you look at him and go, "Oh my god, there he is. That's him." This man wasn't even a twinkle in my eye a couple weeks ago and now I'd protect him with my life.

And the thing is, the only reason I'm calling this design "done" for now is that I basically just brought it into existence to make a point. But if this dude were attached to a larger story, he'd be nowhere near finished. I'd have to make a ton more iterations and go a lot more in depth with my research than I did (especially with the Armenian cultural stuff). Overall, though, I hope this quick project properly highlighted the difference between a single drawing and a more fleshed-out character.

Later!

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

Yandere TFA Wasp x cybertronian reader, where both are a couple in the Autobots academy

Oh boy, another TFA! Again, haven't watched or analized the show completely or at least good enough - will do my best and I hope you like it! ╰(￣ω￣ｏ)

(TFA) Yandere!Wasp w/ a Cybertronian!Reader - "Academy Sweethearts"

WARNINGS: Yandere behaviour, open ending, long ass post ngl. Reader is cybertronian and gender neutral, also an Autobot medic. Use of (Y/N).

"Seriously, what do you see in that bot?" - ah, the question of your whole scholar life at the Autobot Academy. And, at some degree, you couldn't get to be angry at anyone who asked you that question (unless they asked it for the 5th time in the same day). You loved Wasp, just as he loved you.

Since your 1st day at the Autobot Academy, Wasp set his optics on you - and let me tell you, he was all over you nearly all the time. You would have grown to hate him if it wasn't thanks to how he made you laugh, brough you gifts, kept you safe from any other bully in the academy and always passed time with you. Wasp knew how medic apprentices at the academy were demanded too much time, foucs and energy in the course, so it was common to see the mech look after you after his training classes, and other bots would actually find themselves surprised at how Wasp was so different with you.

Teased you but always playing, giving you too many sweet nicknames, aiming to always make you laugh and listen about your day, cheer you up when needed - to be the best in-the-near-future Conjux of them all.

"I'm so tired! I'll never be the medic I want to be! I am a disaster!" You whined, to then be hugged by Wasp from behind, who was quick to start snuggling his cheeplate against yours.

"There is nothing my hot-stuff spark can't do! You got it, babe!" He cheered you, to then kiss your cheekplate, making you giggle, your mood lifted up. "You're gonna become the best medic in the whole Autobot faction, and with me becoming the best Elite guard commander - we'll be the best duo out there!"

You and Wasp could picture it - graduation day, both of you the next big Autobot medic and Autobot Elite guard commander, servo in servo, a couple that since the 1st day in the academy clicked - the academy sweethearts, together till the end of the line.

Alas - the universe was cruel and your spark broke in half after finding out from others that Wasp was a supposed Decepticon traitor that got into the Academy to do the evil deeds of the feared Megatron.

As you were crying your optics out, covering your faceplate with your servos, trembling and being hugged by Ratchet and another friend of yours who were trying to comfort you, you could hear Wasp yelling as he was being taken away.

"This is a mistake! Bee is lying! (Y/N)! Please, listen to me! (Y/N)!!"

It has been... many years since that awful day. Still spark broken, you managed to graduate from the Academy and do your job as an Autobot, now being with the main team on Earth. And thankfully, you didn't had to go through everything all alone - Ratchet and your other friends were there to support you - even Bumblebee. The poor guy was so nervous to be around you, fearing you hated him from having exposed your boyfriend as the traitor.

... You weren't going to lie, you did actually got to hate Bee for a while, but slowly come to terms that - it wasn't his fault. He did was it was correct - he found out someone was working with the Decepticons and was trying to hurt from the inside the Autobots. He protected everyone, and, at some lenght, he also protected you. Still, it hurts.

You loved Wasp so much, after all.

And you didn't had an idea about how much he kept loving you, losing his mind in imprisonment and only thinking about two things: to take revenge on Bumblebee and find you, his one and only true love.

Wasp Bee was vibrating in excitement the moment you arrived back to the base, another little thing that gave out that something with Bee was not okay - even less with how he seemed to try and follow you anywhere you went and grow rather... anxious could be the word?

Oh you were still just as beautiful as the day he lost you, his beloved academy sweetheart and his true sparkmate, the one to become his Conjux Endura. Oh, he was gonna take revenge on everyone for having ruin the future you two had ahead.

When the truth was out, before he started to run away, he begged you to follow him, to listen to him - to come with him.

"It wasn't Wasp! Wasp has always been innocent!"

... but you didn't follow him.

His sanity finally left his system when he saw the way your optics looked at him, full of sadness and no longer the love you had for him back in those days.

His spark was breaking more and more, just like his mind - it got worse when that Blackarachnia touched him (No! That was wrong! Wasp wanted to tear off his own plates - he felt dirty! No one was allowed to touch him! Only (Y/N)!) and lied to him... oh, it hurt, it hurt awfully - Wasp really thought he was gonna die inside of that strange machine and never get to see you again, to tell you how much he still loved you.

Trembling, you kept moving back, feeling your optics start to produce tears as you pointed your weapon at Waspinator. The tall, turned-Predacon moved closer and closer, staring directly at you without blinking.

"S-Stay away!" You shout, begging for any of your teammates to arrive, to help you.

"(Y/N)... my (Y/N)... Wasp loves (Y/N)... Wasp never stopped loving (Y/N)... and Wasp never letting sparkmate go... not again." Waspinator mumbles, to the let out a screech and tackle you to the ground.

You cry and try to fire your weapon at the predacon, struggling to get free from his grasp as he holds your servos down.

"(Y/N) AND WASP WILL BE TOGETHER AGAIN! NO ONE WILL RUIN (Y/N)'S AND WASPS' LIVES AGAIN!" Waspinator cries, to then laugh. "WASPINATOR WILL KILL BUMBLEBEE, AND AUTOBOTS - EVERYONE! (Y/N) AND WASPINATOR WILL FREE AND HAPPY AGAIN!"

Pinkie promise I did my best to write this!!! Silly guy, tragic silly guy.

(。・ω・。) Vhaos out!

[ticklygiggles]

Wild Instinct | Cynonari

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR FABIFABIIIIII (@lovelynim) I love you soooo much, I hope you like this little giftie gift ❤️ I tried to post it in kinda morning time for you because... yes. I wish you the happiest of days today Fabifabifabifabifabifabifabi! ❤️❤️ MWWWAAAAAHH

Summary: Did you know fennec foxes are playful creatures? Cyno didn't. 

Words: 1k+

He was not one to take work home, he preferred to finish all those matters at the end of his workday and enjoy his free time with Tighnari at home, however, Cyno had been terribly busy these past couple of days and the paperwork had piled up, (thanks to a certain Acting Grand Sage), so he decided to take just a little bit home, just to lighten the next day's load. 

It wasn't going to take too long, he had told Tighnari, who was resting on the couch while Cyno read his papers at the Forest Watcher's desk, surrounded by botany books, notes and some ointments that smelled really good. Cyno had barely sat down in front of the desk, if he had to say, he had been at it for about five minutes when he felt something lean against his shoulder from behind; fur tickled his cheek and he smiled as he felt Tighnari's ear twitching against his skin. 

“Missing me already?” He teased, smiling as he turned a page in the file in front of him. Tighnari did not answer, but his head nudged against Cyno's shoulder again, softly moving from side to side as if he was saying no. “I'll be done in just a few minutes, Nari, you wanna go to bed now- ack!” 

A poke to his bare waist made him jump nearly out of the roof. He reached out and captured Tighnari’s hand in his. “N-Nari, I'm really going to be finished in only a few minutes, could you– n-noho!” 

Another poke to his other side had him giggling softly and Cyno quickly caught that hand as well, turning around to look at Tighnari. “What–!” 

Tighnari had raised his head, their eyes meeting, and Cyno felt something funny swirling in his chest. Now, that was a look he didn't see often. Tighnari was smiling brightly at him, his toothy grin making Cyno flush a little. His beautiful eyes shone as brightly as the first rays of sunlight filtering through the leaves of the tall forest trees, a spark of playful malice in them. His adorable nose was scrunched up on one side, as if he were daring Cyno to do something. Cyno blinked a few times, slowly letting go of Tighnari's hands. 

“What... do you need, Nari? I- ahahaha!” Tighnari’s hands latched to his waist and squeezed it, making Cyno giggle and rise from his seat like a spring. “Nahari, what-” 

Turning to face Tighnari, the Forest Watcher quickly walked away, barely able to contain a chuckle as he continued to show his teeth in a wide smile and wrinkle his nose. Cyno didn't understand what was happening– he had never actually seen Tighnari behave that way, and for a moment he worried, thinking that maybe some plant spore had done something to him. He opened his mouth to speak again, but the only sound that left his lips was a squeal as Tighnari poked his exposed belly. 

Cyno caught Tighnari's hand again, and to Cyno's surprise, Tighnari laughed, using his free hand to try to get away while letting out panicked giggles and Cyno understood, or at least he thought he did. 

“Oh? You want to play, Tighnari?” Tighnari's expression seemed to brighten even more and Cyno smiled, although he didn't really understand what was happening, however, who was he to deny something to Tighnari? 

Cyno smirked and pulled Tighnari against him, his arm wrapping around Tighnari's waist as the other cupped his side. Tighnari jolted and he let out a laugh. 

“I haven't done anything yet? Why are you giggling so much alreHEhe! Hohold ohon!” 

Cyno had to let go of him when his hips got tickled. Tighnari giggled and he quickly backed away, looking back as he slowly walked away. Oh, he wanted Cyno to chase him? How adorable. The Mahamatra chuckled and he faked Tighnari, making him think he was going to start running after him, Tighnari screamed and ran a few steps before realizing that Cyno was not chasing him yet, but then Cyno did it when Tighnari was distracted and in two strides, he almost caught him, but Tighnari was very agile and laughing like a child, he snuck away from Cyno. 

Cyno chased him throughout the house and almost got dizzy as he circled the couch a thousand times. Tighnari was impossible to catch, moving so quickly from one side to the other that Cyno had tripped over his own feet many times already, but he was the Mahamatra and a very skilful one; he managed to corner Tighnari near the bed with his chasing skills, (and maybe a little luck), and finally trapped him in his arms, both falling to the bed with a soft 'thud'. 

“Gotcha, Nari,” he said and wasted no time. His hands glued to Tighnari's sides and started to squeeze them up and down. 

Tighnari threw his head back with bright, happy giggles. His hands pawed weakly at Cyno's hands as he barely squirmed under Cyno's weight. 

“Cynohoho!” 

“Oh, so you can talk, Nari. I thought a little mouse had eaten your tongue,” Cyno said playfully, straddling Tighnari's hips as his fingers climbed up towards his ribs. The fennec’s laughter turned louder and more panicky, but his hands simply wrapped around Cyno's wrists as his ribs were played like a new instrument. Cyno smirked. “Let's play the Nari~” 

His fingers ran over each rib and into the spaces between them and Cyno had to laugh as he noticed that Tighnari's laugh changed depending on where his fingers toyed, just like an instrument. The melody of his laughter became more intense and vibrant as Cyno played with his highest ribs, near the hollows of his armpits. If he went to the lowest ones, his almost hysterical laughter turned into frantic giggles that made him snort adorably. 

“I'm composing a masterpiece," Cyno said, smiling widely. "Who knows, maybe Nilou will want to do a dance to this new melody of mine. What do you say, Nari?”

Tighnari couldn't do anything but laugh, his cheeks were red and Cyno thought they were even a little sore. His long black eyelashes were dampened with tears caused by laughter and glistened in the dim light of the room. Cyno rarely saw Tighnari laughing like that, not even his best jokes could make him laugh that hard, plus he usually didn't tickle him because Tighnari was brutal when he took revenge on him. 

But Tighnari seemed to be having too much fun and something warm spread across Cyno's chest. Since when did Tighnari behave like this? Was it common for the Valuka Shuna race to be like this? He wondered, and would ask Tighnari about it some other time, right now he was busy making his lover happy– but perhaps he was a bit too out of breath right now. 

His hands slowed down until he was simply tracing each bone, so Tighnari could catch his breath. The Forest Watcher giggled sweetly, his hands wrapping around Cyno's wrists moved out of the way, (It wasn't like they were really trying to keep Cyno's hands away, anyway), and he willingly put his arms up by each side of his head. 

To Cyno's surprise, Tighnari began to make a very peculiar sound. A sound he has never heard before, it was something like…

“Are you purring, Nari?” 

Cyno could definitely describe that sound as a purr, just a bit more squeaky

“Hmm~” Tighnari nodded, giggling as Cyno lightly tickled his ribs. “Chase me again.”

Cyno raised his brows. “Again? I have to finish my paperwork, Nari, and- 

“Just once, yes?” Tighnari begged with a saw expression. “Didn't you have fun?” 

Of course Cyno had fun. Tighnari wasn't like this all the time, he really thought this was some kind of wild instinct kicking in, and he definitely loved it, but he really needed to finish his work or else tomorrow… 

“Just once, yes? Then I'll help you with your w-wohohork- I sahahaid chahasing!” 

Cyno giggled, “of course, first try to escape and I'll chase you, how does that sound?”

It seemed like he'll have to worry about that paperwork tomorrow, right now he was very busy playing with his cute Tighnari– stupid Acting Grand Sage could survive without those documents on time.

[cowboybarzy]

reconciliation — mat barzal

some barzy smut for you all :) wanted to wait posting this but those videos of him playing guitar just came out so we are all in desperate need for this rn!! as a reminder: video one two

word count: 2.9k

warning: SMUT (18+) & undisclosed fight (sorry I was too lazy to come up with a better backstory so just know it was fairly bad fight and this starts a couple hours afterwards)

You laid awake, desperately trying to fall asleep, but your fight with your boyfriend played in your head over and over again. It was so stupid and you hated that you were still mad, especially since he was leaving for a few days the next day. But you were too stubborn to be the bigger person and turn around and apologize.

Mat felt the same, though, the sleepless ness getting to him and turning around to face your back. He wrapped an arm around you and gently kissed your cheek. "Hey," he whispered, pulling himself closer to you until you were perfectly nestled to him. "We said we'd never go to sleep angry. I'm sorry. I love you."

You nodded, but didn't turn to face him. Your hand lifted to cradle his cheek and with an 'I love you, too' you both were finally able to fall asleep.

***

You spent the next few days alone, Mat being gone on a roadie. While you hadn't exactly talked about your fight, you mutually decided to just drop it since neither of you wanted to stay angry at each other. You face timed every day like normal, although there wasn't any spicy time that you would usually share. You saved that for after he hung up.

You could hear the music blasting from your apartment before you even stepped inside. Mat was back, since the early afternoon actually, but you were stuck at work. Yelling for him when you stepped foot inside the apartment wouldn't work, so after getting rid of you jacket and shoes you went to look for him. And what a sight when you did. He was dancing and singing along to the music, while attempting to chop an onion.

"Whatcha doin?" He jumped at your voice, dropping the knife and almost cutting himself.

"Don't scare me like that!" The shock on his face claimed after a second and he went to turn down the music and wash his hands before he pulled you in for a hug. "Missed you."

"Missed you." After a long kiss, you looked around to figure out what he was doing. "You're making dinner? For me?"

"Hey! I cook for you."

"Mhm."

"What? I do! You're just better than me that’s why I don’t do it so much." You patted his chest with a chuckle and kissed him again, shutting him up.

You helped him prepare the meal for a bit, before you went to go take a shower. Since seeing him today, especially in the kitchen, you had felt incredibly horny and devised a plan on how your night would go. But shower first.

After lotioning up and making you smell irresistible, you slipped into some sexy matching lingerie. You pulled on of his boxers overtop to be comfortable, but also show off your ass, and one of his white tshits that would show him exactly what was going on underneath.

You set the table when you came back and not long after you sat down for dinner. Throughout eating, you brushed your hair seductively and made some inappropriate noises, to get him riled up. And he did, but he could see exactly through what you were doing, so he didn't make a move. While he did want to flip this table to get to you, he just sat there staring at you, looking at wherever you wanted him to.

"This actually was pretty good," you said, taking a sip of you water. "I just hope desert is better."

His eyes darkened while you smirked at him. You were both staring at each other, fueling the heat in each of your bodies until you got enough.

"I must be getting my period or something, because I have been so horny these past few days," his body twitched, wanting to reach out to you. "Too bad you weren't there."

You got up to take both of your plates to the sink. "But don't worry, our pink friend helped me out a lot."

"What?!" You smiled at him from where you leaned against the kitchen island, showing off your legs. "And I didn't get a video or a call? Baby, come on." He was frustrated and tried to stand, but with a show of hand you got him to sit down again. You stalked over to him until you stood directly in front of him, looking down.

"I guess I was still mad at you," you said and slowly let you hands trace his cheek. Then you sat down on his lap where he immediately gripped your hips. Then you leaned down to whisper in his ear, "and I thought you should earn to see them."

"So... So, you did take a video?," he asked, his voice stammering.

"Maybe." You lips traced his jaw. "Maybe there's more than one." You let your hip roll, meeting his hard erection. "What are you going to do to earn the right to see them?"

He groaned as his head fell back. "Fuck, baby, anything. I'll do anything."

With that, you finally let him kiss you.

"Well? Show me what you got." And he did. You gave the control over to him and without hesitation he had you up and pressed down on the dining table. With a hard pull, your boxers and panties were off and he was staring down at you like a wild animal.

"God, you're so hot." His hands massaged your thighs before pulling your shirt up to expose your breasts contained in your black lace bra. He bent to to trace the outline of your tits with his lips. Swiftly, he ripped both cups down, exposing them all the way.

"Yes, suck them, Mat. Please ... please suck them," you begged, the sound so desperate that he complained immediately with a moan. He cupped your breast in his hand, squeezing it hard as he sucked your nipple between his lips. You moaned together and your hand got ahold of his head, pushing him into you. He played with both of your tits, sucking, nipping, licking, and squeezing, until you both got impatient and he got back down on his knees with a smirk. "Ready?"

His mouth descended onto your slick pussy, to which your pelvis shot up to meet his face. "Oh fuck." Hands still on your thighs, he took long, languid strokes with his tongue. You squirmed beneath him as he lapped away at you, never fully pushing all the way in against your clit, just staying around the outside, prepping you for what he had planned.

With two fingers, he spread you wide, exposing your clit, and then lowered his tongue to just above it.

And he hovered, letting you feel his heavy breath and the scruff of his jaw against your inner thigh.

"Mathew," you moaned. "Please."

With his hand that wasn't spreading her, he moved it back up your body, and just as he pinched your left nipple between your fingers, he press his tongue against your clit.

"Oh my . .. fuck." Your eyes squeezed shut, arching into him. He did it again. And again. And again. "More," you begged. "I need more."

In response, Mat pressed his tongue against your slit and lightly flicked at it, creating a vibration against the nub that caused you to grip his head and dig your fingers digging into his scalp. "Fuck, Maty. Oh my God . . . keep going."

His eyes lifted, to keep them on you to watch your reactions as he continued to pleasure you at a relentless pace. Your body grew tighter and tighter and your breath picked up as you got closer and closer to the edge.

His tongue attacked your clit more aggressively, pushing against it, sucking it. Your moans grew louder and your body tensed. Then your orgasm crashed over you, sending you into full body tremors. "Fuck... fuck." Mat sucked and licked you up until the tremors subsided and you laid there, limp, on the table.

Mat got back on his feet and bent over you to kiss you gently. His lips pressed small wet kisses along your neck and collarbone, until you had recovered enough to gain function over your limbs again. Your first act was to pull his shit off his chest, then you clung to him, wrapping both your legs and arms around him.

With his strong arms, Mat picked you up and set you in his lap when he plumped into your living room couch. "I love eating your sweet little pussy, feeling it clench around my tongue," he whispered into your ear as he pulled your hair. "But I love feeling it clench around my cock even more."

You moaned as your head fell into the crook of his neck. You were ready and desperate for him again and he knew immediately by the way you were rocking your hips, searching for his cock.

"You love that, too, eh? Feeling my dick pulsing deep inside you." You nodded quickly, hoping it would get him to do something faster. And he did, pulling his dick out of his sweatpants, pumping it a couple times in front of your eyes. Then he pulled on your hair, making you sit up straight while he leaned back. "Ride me. But don't let me inside you. I want to see just how slick that pussy is."

Your hungry eyes connected, but both of your heads soon fell back with moans as you slowly moved your wet cunt over his cock. "Oh my God, Maty, this feels... incredible."

"You feel incredible," he says in response as you fell forward, bringing your breast into him mouth. He focused on your nipple, swirling around it with his tongue, flicking and then nibbling just enough that you sucked in a sharp breath of air. With his hand, he did the same thing to your other breast as you continued to rock on him.

"I can come just like this," you say, your hands falling to his chest and your pelvis lifting just slightly to get a better angle. "Fuck, I'm already close."

"Then come. Use me, fuck me like this." His moans spurred you on, driving you closer to the edge. 

Your lips pressed together, as your eyes squeezed shut and your pace picked up. Your thrusts became more erratic until you reached your orgasm. "Fuck!" Your body shook and spasmed as you rode out your orgasm until there was nothing left to take. The you collapsed on top of him.

"That was so hot," he whispered, his voice raspy. "Now be a good girl and lie down." You obeyed, falling into to cushions exhausted. "Turn."

When you did, he gave your ass a hard slap, the echo of your skin filling the air. Then he moved a pillow under your pelvis and gave your ass another slap, before he moved his thumb over your arousal, swirling it around your entrance, and positioning his cock where he wants it.

With gritting teeth, he pushed his hips forward and with a hard thrust he pushed in his cock in your pussy until he bottomed out. You both moaned loudly and his grip got tighter on your hips as he tried to restrain himself. "More," you moaned as you started moving your hips.

"Babe, don't move. Please... fuck." You moved your pelvis anyway, and he matched the thrusts because he was as desperate as you. "I won't last."

"Do it, Mat. Fuck me as hard as you can." With a groan, the grip on your hips tightened again as he started pumping into you relentlessly. He had no control, all he was doing was fucking you chasing his release. Your pussy gripped his cock so tightly, spurring on both of your thrusts. He was pushing into you so hard, that the sound of your skin slapping was so loud, you thought the neighbors would be able to hear it.

"I'm right there. Fuck, I'm there," he groaned and moaned until he exploded inside you. Thick, warm ropes of his cum coated your insides. "Fuuuuck."

Out of nowhere, you started shaking as you reached your third orgasm. Your vision went black and your breath hitched while milking the last drops of his cum. Your body felt like jello as you came down from your high. Mat collapsed next to you, but you barely registered it. You were to exhausted to move or speak, so you laid there catching your breath.

Eventually, Mat's arm snuck around you and turned you to pull you into his chest. "Good enough to get that video?"

"Mhm," was all you answered and he smiled victorious, but little did he know he wasn't going to see it for a couple more weeks...

***

You had expected the call. After finally sending him the video of yourself playing with your pink vibrator, you had expected him to call you. For your own pleasure in the situation, like you hadn't had enough fun messing with him, you had sent the video at a time you knew he would see the notification but wouldn't be able to open it for another few hours. You reveled in the fact that he would be on the edge, dying to open that video, but couldn't because he was with his team in mandatory meetings.

You had expected the call. Which is why you were already ready and waiting in bed. What you didn't expect though, was to see Mat's fist wrapped around his cock moving up and down, instead of his face.

The camera flipped to show his face after a moment, revealing a very turned on Mat. "You little slut. You enjoyed that, didn't you? Torturing me even more by dangling that video in front of me?"

You smiled as you sank back into your pillows. "Yes."

"Turned you on, eh? Messing with me like that." He moved his phone so that you could see him from his thighs up and, god, nothing beat that view. "See what you do to me? Fuck, baby, that video was so hot. Screaming my name like that when I wasn't even there. All mine. You're mine." You were on edge and your hand itched to slide between your legs. "Did you have fun without me?"

"Wasn't that video proof enough?," you teased him again, but you knew it wasn't as good as it was without him.

"Tell me the truth or I'm hanging up."

You rubbed your hand over your panties and gave in. "Nothing feels right when you're not here." You need him and hear his voice to get off. "God, Maty, I'm so on edge right now. I need you." You positioned the camera so he, too, could see your body.

"Alright, I'll be nice. Strip. Take those fucking panties off and let me see your wet cunt." You did as instructed, even taking your bra off. "Now glide your fingers up and down your body and around your breasts without touching your nipples. Just like that, baby. Slower, I want you to feel how soft your skin is."

As your hand slid across your skin, you regretted teasing him for so long because you had a feeling he was going to do the same to you. "Slide your fingers closer to your pussy, tease yourself the way I'd tease you. Get close to your slit but don't touch yourself."

Your hand lowered and, when you got close enough, your pelvis lifted. "Don't fucking touch that cunt. It's mine."

"Don't make me wait," you groaned, throwing your head back in agony.

"Now who's talking."

"You liked it, I know it." You smirked, then dared to move your hand closer to your center.

"Shush. Spread your legs more and slowly spread those lips for me." You did, moaning at the sensation. "Fuck, look at you. I wish I was there, eating that wet pussy. Sucking on your clit, driving my dick so hard inside you that you can practically taste my cum in the back of your throat."

"Maty, I need more. Please," you begged as you breathing increased. You were so wet already and so close to your orgasm when you hadn't even really touched yourself yet. When you looked to your phone, you saw Mat started pumping his cock again.

"My dick is so hard, baby. Shit. Yes, go, finger yourself. I need to see you touch yourself."

Finally, you got two fingers to slowly circle your clit. "Oh, fuck," you yelled as head fell back again and your eyes rolled back in ecstasy.

"That's it, baby, keep up the pace. I need you to match my strokes. Pinch your nipple too. I want you to mark yourself."

Your hips lifted as your fingers sped up, chasing your release. And it was getting close. You looked to your phone, where Mat was still grunting while he worked himself. You saw a big bead of precum spill out of the tip of his cock, then he moaned loudly. "I'm there. Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

"Me too." You had no idea if he heard you, but your orgasm started crashing over you and you lost track of all of your senses for a moment. Your spams started slowly and then descended into full body shudders that left you screaming his name.

While you caught your breath, you turned to take your phone back into your hand. You saw Mat with a small smile looking at you, hand still around his cock, but his sticky cum spilled on his skin.

"You are an evil little woman," he said, which made you laugh. "But, god, what I wouldn't do for you."

[mwahs-stuff]

haiii!!! I hope you day or night is going well!! But I was wondering if you can do maybe an actor!dazai with singer!reader and they have a fake relationship? 😋😋

(Off topic but I’ve been loving your posts!! They’re such a joy to read!!!)

I love this. yes, of course. and thank you, sm dear. I'm glad you enjoy my posts<3

cw: womanizer dazai, super fluffy (no smut, sorry if that's what you wanted, but I'm absolutely down for a part two). confusing plot tbh, idk what else!

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡☪"I don't like anyone better than you, it's true" ☪

dazai osamu. a name that can make fangirls eyes light up. he was known for his acting, how sly he was on and off camera and that stupid smile of his. you've been in the music game for a while now so you've met him here and there, you quickly realized he's an actor on and off screen so you made your mind up about him quickly. you didn't like him. so that's why you're pissed to hear that you'll be posing as a couple for a few weeks. another stupid publicity stunt pulled by your producer.

"you'll be meeting for coffee tomorrow." your producer spoke, making you roll your eyes and take another drag of your cig. "got it." you murmured. "this is serious (name). you both need to get to know each other. dazai's producer is a good friend of mine. he's too well known as a womanizer, and he needs to settle down for a bit. you both need to convincingly show that you know each other well. so get to know him! it'll be good for you too sweetheart" you huffed a bit and nodded. "okay, I got it. tell him not to be late." you spoke in an annoyed tone as your producer headed out.

the next day, you heard a knock on the door, and after a moment, your producer brought in no other than dazai osamu. "I figured you can have coffee at your place, more comfortable, ya know?" your producer spoke with no care as they headed off. .."I guess," you gritted out. great. not only will you have to talk to him. you have to make coffee, not a hard task, but it annoyed you. dazai didn't seem to mind this whole thing. In fact, he stood there with a smirk. you rolled your eyes. "cmon on in dazai." you spoke in annoyance as you led him to the kitchen. "call me osamu. we'll be dating after all." you rolled your eyes once again, something you seem to be doing more often cause of this. "fine, osamu." you said through gritted teeth as you sat on the counter and started to heat up some coffee. he stood on the side. your producer had given you a list of questions to memorize to get to know him. seems he got the same list because at the same time, you both asked, "what's your favorite color?" you scoffed slightly. "guess you got the same list.. alright, we'll have to look convincing, and this can't look like some hook up, so we'll say we've been dating for.. hmmm, let's say three weeks so far? I'll go to some events with you and you can come to some of my shows. coming up in october, I have a tour so we can stage a break up then. so there we go. you get a relationship so your fans don't think your a man-whore and I guess I get to say I have a boyfriend." you spoke quickly and sternly. you rolled your eyes at the last part. you weren't getting much out of this. dazai's eyes seemed to widen a bit at how simple you wanted to make this. "woah woah woah.. slow down." he walked closer to you till he was standing in front of you. "and what if I actually wanted to get to know you?" ..you were slight caught of guard.. you couldn't help but feel your face heat up. yea no snap out of it. he's just some womanizer and a fake all around. "not a chance."

it's been a few weeks since then. you've gotten used to going in public to get pictures of you guys together, going to his red carpet walks, him being at your shows, pretending to be all sweet in public.. you've honestly grown quite used to him. he actually wasn't as much of a fake as you thought. he could be quite genuine when he wanted to show it. this was one of those times. you were freaked out. dazai was in your backstage room as you smoked a cigarette and tapped your foot fast. it was a big show, a lot of people.. you'd be lying if you said your heart wasn't racing. dazai had stepped behind you as you looked out the balcony smoking the cigarette. you weren't showing all the signs you were nervous, but dazai could hear your foot tapping and the way you bit your bottom lip and how quickly you were blinking. he paid attention. as he stood behind you, he brought his hand to your hips. he snaked his other hand around you to take the cigarette out of your mouth. "this won't help with how you're feeling, you know that, right?" you rolled your eyes. "there's no cameras, so stop touching." you muttered, but you couldn't hide how your face heated up from the touch. instead of replying, he rubbed soft circles in your hip. you leaned into the touch unconsciously. "you're going to do great. you have to know that you're going to be great out there." he whispered against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. you were at a loss of words as his hands moved to your waist and rubbed softly. you felt yourself calm down a bit.. he held you like that for a few minutes, telling you how he knew you were going to do well. until you had to go onstage.

you did indeed do well.. after what felt like all night, you tiredly made your way back to your backstage room and laid down on the bed. after a few minutes, dazai came in and laid on the bed next to you. you turned to him. "...thank you." you whispered to him. "no need to thank me.. that was all you pretty girl.." you felt your face heat up once again. you didn't realize how close his face was to yours until he said that. you reached out and ran your fingers softly over his face. "you're a lot more than what I thought of you.." you whispered before planting a soft kiss on his lips.

(I rlly like this.. I kinda wanna do a part two.. should i?? also I suck!! so sorry if this plot doesn't make sense)

[ingravinoveritas]

So I just wanna ask u just does this look like a real happy healthy relationship and in love with each or just put on for show for the fans and why do I feel like she making it all about her again and reminded everyone who she with it feels micheal was forced in the pictures taking with her the red carpet photo she looked bored and annoyed cos michael not paying any attention he just look miserable but I bet if it was David standing there instead of anna his face would be beaming like the one Georgia posted of them 4 together micheal face is electric and see how he lean toward David that best friend goals and I just love seeing them together cos that when he at his most happiness place

Also I find it strange that Anna was left out in staged scene but David wife gerogia made appearance doesn't that strike u as odd and gerogia brought the plus one date a girl could have and it wasnt anna yet they call each other wife clearly not as close etc then David and Michael are it seems.

And did u notice in the scene with David and Tom hiddleson about the dog sitter initially could present as benign and then he and the dog get up to all kinds of hijinks and ultimately disrupt stuffy old Michael sheen boring life but for the better like why put that in the script maybe his life with anna is boring and only staying cos he feels he needs too for the young children what do u think of all this

From @amata-haan along with a screenshot of the group photo:

(Grouping all of these together since it seems we've got a bit to talk about here.)

So, the biggest point of discussion seems to be the group pic that Georgia posted, and I will put up a larger size of that for us to discuss:

When I saw that Georgia had posted this in an Insta story, of course my first thought was "Finally a picture of Michael and David together!" I think that was what we were all hoping for all night, to where it was almost glaring that we hadn't gotten one when the event ended (until Georgia's post, that is).

The second thing that came to mind is what you alluded to @moriarty-sisters, about this being a near repeat of what we've seen a few times before (first at the NTAs in 2021, and then the group photo Georgia posted on Michael's birthday, that appears to have been taken after Michael went to see Macbeth):

Every time, Georgia is on the right. Every time, she and Anna have the same tight smiles while Michael and David have huge grins on their faces. At this point, it feels intentional, because twice might be a coincidence, but three times is a plan. There are slight differences to the vibes in each picture--although Georgia looks like she knows a secret and Michael and David look like a very happy couple in every one of them--but last night's group pic was...something.

Which takes me to your comment @phantomstars24 about how Michael is holding AL. I was under the impression that he had his hand on her waist, but if he is touching her breast, I'm perplexed at that being her reaction. She looks stiff and like a deer caught in the headlights, and regardless of where Michael's hand is, it doesn't seem like that's a great way to look when your own boyfriend is touching you. Adding to the strange optics is the fact that Michael is actually leaning toward David in the picture and away from her. It looks like his arm/shoulder is pressing into David and there isn't a millimeter of space between them, yet he seems to be a mile away from Anna despite having an arm around her.

(And none of this is even touching on Georgia using the theme song from Friends in the Insta story for the group pic, which she had to know we would all notice...)

So yes, a lot of thoughts on the group pic, but overall delighted to see Michael and David looking so happy next to each other. Especially Michael, in stark contrast to how he looked in some of the other pictures.

Speaking of which...I briefly talked about Michael and AL at the BAFTAs yesterday here and here, so I will try not to repeat myself too much in this part of my answer. But what I think we are seeing is two things: Anna's fantasy of what she thinks her and Michael's relationship is, and the reality of what we saw at the BAFTAs.

I think in AL's mind, she and Michael were like Georgia and David. But if we are going to say that Georgia and David were very loving and sweet together on the red carpet yesterday--which they absolutely were, with the kiss they shared and David comforting Georgia when she was experiencing anxiety--then there is no way you can look at the pictures of Michael and Anna and see the same thing. Even without bringing GT/DT into it, there is a massive, marked difference between pictures of Michael with AL vs. pictures of him with literally anyone else (such as this pic with Hannah Waddingham).

Looking at Anna's pictures that she posted, every one of them seems to be about ownership, right down to the Insta story with the #mine hashtag (which again seems to be her copying Georgia, also on the night of an award ceremony). The vibe that I got was of a teenager who'd won a date with her favorite celebrity and took him to the prom. Ultimately, though, she looked out of place, and he looked uncomfortable with her, both of which are a remarkable feat after five years of a relationship.

The pictures also repeated themes we've seen before (AL has previously posted a picture of her kissing Michael's cheek where he looks equally withdrawn; the photo in the car on the way to the event is a copy of pictures Georgia has posted of her and David in the car on the way to events) and speak to that idea of pushing a certain narrative, despite neither one of them appearing to sell it very well.

To that end, and to your comments @lepqueen and @turquoisedata, I would agree with you that it looks like AL is trying to mark her territory. The problem is that Michael had more chemistry just talking with David in that opening BAFTAs sketch than he did with Anna the entire night, and she was frequently left looking like she had no idea what she was doing or why she was there. Another example of this is an Insta story she posted earlier today that again demonstrated her main interest in the relationship:

What's particularly noteworthy is the follow up Insta story on the right, which I couldn't believe she actually posted. I think that if you are fine and happy with the narrative you've put out, you are not going to be bothered by or salty about a comment like that, and AL clearly was. And all of this then casts at least some doubt that the pictures she posted are really telling the whole story. Just a recap of what we do know about last night (and if I am forgetting anything, someone please let me know):

- Anna was the only principal member of the cast who was not in the Staged-themed opening sketch, despite being in all three seasons of the show. - Anna was not seated next to Michael during the in person part of the opening sketch, despite there being no reason the producers couldn't have put her next to him even as a seat filler. - Georgia brought her friend Daisy Aitkens as a +1 and sat with her instead of Anna, leaving us with the above picture of AL sitting alone and staring straight ahead while in the background of a Michael J. Fox picture (that she is acting like is a picture of her with him, instead of her photobombing a picture of MJF with his wife). - During the show, the camera repeatedly cut to Michael in the audience when there was no reason to do so, but did not show Anna on camera once.

So yes, I think that if last night at the BAFTAs was somehow AL's attempt to mark her territory/assert her place in the UK acting industry, it did not seem to go over well. I think David and Georgia's relationship and Michael and David's relationship emerged even stronger than before, and unfortunately AL and Michael's relationship did not and does not compare.

My apologies for rambling on, as I never intended for this to get so long. As I've said before, this is all just my opinion, and I know I could be completely wrong, so I'm glad as always to hear from my followers with your thoughts. Thanks for writing in! x

[obsessivestar]

'What If It's All A RomCom?' - a Ted Nivison x Reader.

!! This is Chapter 3! Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 can be found here! If you'd like to be here for the next part, ask to be added to my taglist! It'd be my pleasure ♡ !!

{{-Story Description: You're a youtuber with a fairly decent following deciding to help your good friend Tanner with a minor film project, with you set as the leading lady. When the actor for the male lead is a no show, Ted takes up the role himself. One problem: This short film's a Rom Com, and you just met the guy.-}}

//18+, Def gonna be some smut. Reader is implied to be afab, under 5'5 and has specifically named friends, all who have no real connection to Ted.

This story will be in multiple chapters. Also gonna post this on Wattpad and Ao3 (when I figure them out LMAO) under the same username: ObsessiveStarla. Hope you enjoy :^)\\

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@k-k0129

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Word count: 3.5k

Chapter 3: My Eyes Are Up Here

The first day of shooting the film finally came and went. We had spent most of that afternoon figuring out what every character's wardrobe would be like and making sure everything on set looked good on camera. If any furniture needed to be moved, we moved it. Paintings were taken down or added, blinds were closed or left open, overrall it felt like the first day was about preperation. While I had thought we'd get at least some filming done on the first day, it actually worked out well. It gave Ted an entire day to go over the script with Tanner, and Joe the entire day to play the role of my father, demanding I stay away from bad boy Ted. I mean that sarcastically. Mostly sarcastically.

The plot of the film is almost similar to our real lives: We're supposed to be a bunch of adults out of college trying to hold on to our youth while spending their last summer together at some...summer house. There's a few extras that are meant to be playing our friends, but the main focus is on the relationship of Ted and I; our characters, I mean. At the end of the first day, everyone part of the film crew leave to sleep at their own accommodations except 5 of us. Ted, Myself, Tanner, Joe and another member of the editing team, though I don't learn his name tonight as he spends the entirety of it in his assigned bedroom. Joe had offered to get me a separate Airbnb when he realized I was the only one staying here that didn't identify as a guy, but I'm not uncomfortable with these arrangements. I have a lock for my assigned bedroom if need be, but I have no reason to distrust anyone else that will be spending the next 3 weeks living here.

The first night passes with no problems from anybody, except from Ted. He started knocking on my wall around 12am. Took a good couple minutes and a quick Google search to realize the fuckass was knocking 'cunt' in Morse code. He stopped shortly after I messaged him a picture of my middle finger being held up at the same wall.

The next morning i'm involved in a few scenes with some of the extras first so I can get a real feel for being on camera in this light, which also gives Ted time to read over the script in another room. In the film, my name is supposed to be Kara, and he's Mason. Tanner picked simple names. Ted looks like he could be named 'Mason'. The scenes go by fairly quickly, doing the necessary repeats to get multiple takes and angles, standard procedure when filming. I find myself to be quite a natural at this sort of thing. Other than the occasional stammer, I'm able to speak my lines and act the part with little to no difficulty. No bloopers just yet.

Next thing I know, morning turns into noon and we're having to move outside to take advantage of the last bit of full sunshine we'll have for the day, including Ted, who will finally be joining me in front of the camera. Like Ted had explained yesterday, we'd been filming a lot of the scenes out of order, this one included. At this point in the story, several days have passed, and our characters have already shared their first kiss, so our chemistry needs to be on point to make it believable. We need to act like there are some real, lingering feelings for one another while keeping it subtle. It was actually challenges like this that made me agree to take the leading lady role. I could've easily been one of the extras and only have a page or two to read off of, but I wanted to explore true acting, not just pretending.

I can't say I'm inherently a romantic. I'm certainly intrigued by how romance in film was handled decade's ago compared to now and I'd absolutely invest myself into a romantic comedy of the 90's or 2000's if one was turned on in front of me, but I didn't sign up for this to play pretend with a handsome guy. I want to explore the trials and tribulations of this cheesy kind of storytelling I'm a sucker for. I want to see if I'm capable of bringing chemistry into one scene, then slipping it into my pocket for the next as if it were never out there.

My thoughts are cut by Tanner and Ted meeting me and the rest of the crew outside, with the script still in Ted's hand. He's still in the white t-shirt they fitted him with yesterday, changing his slacks into some dark blue jeans. He looked pretty good in jeans.

"Okay, so we wanna get some establishing shots.." Tanner explained to us, Ted moving to come stand beside me. "We're gonna get some of the extras to toss around a football and sort of...run around, get some shots of them playing. You two are gonna go stand over by that post and just...talk..." He pauses on that last word, as if to really emphasize it. "Just talk?" Ted repeats, raising both of his brows with a smile. "I don't like the way you hesitated there, my good man."

"No, I mean--"

"I feel like you're trying to imply something, good sir."

"Yeah, Tanner. He can talk to the 'pretty lady'." I pitch in with a knowing smirk, getting a look from Ted. "We won't need an intimacy coach just yet."

"No, I get it.." Tanner chuckles slightly. "What I was trying to say is now might be a good time to talk about what your 'tell' is going to be, if you can't think of anything to talk about."

I furrow my brows in confusion, silently looking to Ted for an idea of what that is. He looks equally confused. "Our 'tell'?" I ask.

"Yeah, for when you have to kiss." Tanner replies, pointing at Ted and I. "We can't just count down from three and shout at you. It has to feel natural, so if you have a tell, a non-verbal way of signaling that one of you is going in for it, it makes it...realistic and saves up some time."

I suppose the way Tanner explained it make sense. It makes me think back on a moment in Stranger Things. There's a scene at the end of Season 2 where everyone's dancing, and you can just barely see Finn Wolfhard's mouth move before he goes in for a kiss. He had mouthed 'I'm coming in' or something like that to Millie and it's noticable in the final shot they went with. Tanner wanting to avoid that is completely valid.

"OK. No problem." Ted was the first to agree with a casual shrug, turning to look at me. I give a quiet little nod in return. "Where should we go stand?"

"Just over there would be perfect." Tanner pointed over by the large empty flagpole in the distance, a bit farther away from the rest of the extras. "I'll just be a little more to the left with the film crew, I'll give you a. O.K. signal just before we start filming so you know when to start and I'll shout 'cut' when we're done."

"Sounds good to me. Let's go." Ted beckoned me to follow, heading towards the flagpole.

I'm walking somewhat behind Ted, blushing a little to myself as I take in just how much taller he is than me. He's definitely at least a foot taller, maybe more. I'm only noticing it now. I wonder how tall he is?

"It's 6."

I stop walking for about a second, almost wondering if Ted had somehow read my mind. "What?"

"It's 6 kisses. I counted."

"O-Oh." I giggle a little to myself, crossing my arms over each other to rub them with my hands. "You counted them? Did you even read the script?"

"Better than you did! How do you over count kissing?"

"I counted 7!"

"You added one in, you fuckhead."

"Why the fuck would I add one in? What, you think I was enticing you with an extra kiss, asshole?!" I move up a bit to stand beside him as we walk, just so I can playfully nudge his arm. "I counted 7!"

"You fucking wish, princess."

"Ooghh, you fucking wiiiish!..." I start to mock Ted's strong voice again. "You're projecting. Maybe you under-counted."

"How about you under-count how cute you think you are, huh?" Ted snickered to himself, nudging me back a little harder. "We're supposed to want to smooch it up more once we get to this pole, I need to be able to stay in character."

"That sounds like a you problem. I can stay in character, even with your headass."

"I am going to stick you up on that fucking flagpole, princess. One more."

"Stick--" I pause and close my mouth, resisting the urge to burst out laughing. "Stick deez nuts down your throat."

Ted and I erupt into laughter, almost getting a little hysterical. I leaned forward and hugged my stomach while Ted flung his head back. I'm sure at least some of the others could hear us, our laughter was practically echoing out. We knew we had to come down from our laughing fit when we reached the flagpole, letting out a few more cackles and giggles. I lean back against the large flagpole, it's wide enough for me to push all my weight on it without shifting one way or another. From here, we can see that Tanner was still talking to the film crew as they mess with their large cameras. I'm having to squint and raise my hand up to cover them from the sun's bright, harsh rays, though I smile to myself. I'm glad I agreed to help with this.

"How much longer, do you think?" I ask Ted, watching as Tanner moved over to a different cameraman. Before Ted can answer me, I see Tanner turn to us and raise his arm up high. I can just barely make out the O.K. symbol he's doing with his hand. Next thing I know, the sun's rays are no longer over me. Did some clouds move over it, or...?

I turn my body, only to stiffen it up against the flagpole, almost like I'm trying to push my body into it. Ted is now completely towering over me, only being held up by his forearm resting above my head against the pole. He's crossed his legs somewhat, so if he were to remove his arm, all of his weight would come crashing down on me. "You feelin' alright there, (Y/N)?" Ted's grinning like an absolute winner, keeping his dark brown eyes on me as he removes his round glasses and rests them atop his head. I feel like his eyes could be replaced with the red laser of a sniper, and I'd be just as tense.

"Wh-Why are you--"

"Ohhh, nothing sassy to say now, eh? Where's more deez nuts jokes, hm? Where's being an annoying little cunt?"

Before I can create a coherent response, I feel another one of his hands move closer to me. Ted rests his hand right on my forehead. "You're burnin' up, princess. Did you pack some sunscreen? Gettin' real red over here.."

Something about the way he's bullying me is making my stomach twist. His tone, his words, his smile....

I try to turn my head away to get his hand off my forehead. It works, but his hand moved down to the side of my chin, gently pushing it to the side to make me face him once more.

"My eyes are up here, baby."

I glare daggers right back at him. I can't tell if he's actually flirting or if he's just fucking with me 'cause of yesterday. Both are plausible.

"Y'know this isn't helping your case." I collect my composure enough to speak plainly.

"What case?" He asks with a snicker.

"The case where you don't think I'm a pretty lady."

"I don't. Tanner said I need to act like I'm into you, so I'm acting like I'm into you."

"You're a terrible actor."

"I act for a living."

"You make YouTube videos for a living."

"Well, I'm good at pretending to like you, so.."

Ted's earthy orbs linger on me as he removes his hand from my chin. I'm not sure what I'm feeling at this moment. Is it embarrassment? Is it uncomfortable? Am I...intrigued? Interested, even? The way he speaks to me, it's just...

"Sh-Shouldn't we be discussing what our tell is going to be?"

"St-St-St-Stammerin' up a storm over here.." Ted mocks my stutter, his confident grin becoming even more annoying to me.

"You're not funny.." As the words leave me, I realize I've been smiling a little at him.

"What, and you are?"

"I mean it! I--"

"Woww, you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, princess? All that knockin' bothered you?"

"I'm gonna knock you into this fucking pole if you don't shush. I meant about the tell." A chuckle escapes me. "He's gonna want to know what we've come up with. Any ideas?"

Ted let's out a gentle sigh, finally pulling back to stand beside me against the pole instead. I feel like I can breathe properly again. "It's gotta be subtle, yeah?" Ted asks, crossing his arms. "I believe the term Tanner used was 'non-verbal', but yes." I cackle a little. Tanner has a certain way of speaking that's rather amusing. He's one of those friends that are naturally funny, whether he's intending to be or not. "Something that, if picked up on camera, would make sense in the moment.."

"Like a wink?" Ted asks. I turn my head to him, watching as he gives the most non-subtle wink I'd ever seen a man give me. A chuckle leaves me. "More subtle...like..." Thoughts about how the kissing scenes are shot wander through my mind, where the camera may be at any given moment, whether or not there will be a close up. It needs to be as non-verbal as possible; the most subtle way a person can signal to another that they want to kiss them.

"...Like...a quick look at the lips."

"Like a quick little one-two?" Ted asks, moving his eyes from my lips to my eyes to give me a physical demonstration.

"Yeah. I'm sure people do that when they're about to kiss someone."

"You're 'sure'?" Ted's smile drops, his change in expression suggesting he's nervous. "Oh man, don't tell me I'm about to be your first kiss.."

"Oh fuck you! I've had my first kiss! I'm in my 20's!" I laugh at him, watching as he let's out a sigh of relief. "I've had several kisses with several other boys, thanks!"

"Wowww, okay, first of all, kissin' the bro's is different." Ted points his finger at me, trying to appear serious with his lips tucked in a bit. "Second of all, boys? I'll have you know you'll be kissing a MAN, (Y/N). A fully grown 26 year old man!"

"What happened to the 'man' that was supposed to put me up on the flagpole, hm?"

"I basically already did, and you turned into a tomato."

"My feet didn't even leave the ground."

"Were you expecting me to pick you up? Cause I can do that!"

"Oh please, looks like the heaviest thing you ever carried was a Tuba."

"Okay, fuck you, I was in theater, but I can throw a mean ball and could absolutely carry you."

"You think so?"

"Absolutely."

"Try it."

Ted raises a curious brow at me and turns his body towards me once more. For a moment, I thought I saw his eyes wander downward, but our moment is interrupted by a shout, though it's not from Tanner. Right before my eyes, like time moved way faster than I was ready for, Ted had moved around me to stand in front of me to catch a fast-moving football. His back was close to me, in fact, this was the closest he's been to me so far. Though for only a brief moment, I could feel his white shirt slightly caress the tip of my nose as the wind blew. He smelled like...pine trees.

"Dude!" Ted shouted at the extras as he threw the football back. He may not have been a jock in high school, but his form was pretty good.

His. His football form. Y'know, like, not--not his--

I think that football would've hit me if Ted hadn't reacted as fast as he did.

"Jesus..." Ted huffed before turning to me again. He noticed how tense I had gotten, reaching to touch my arm. "I'm sorry, I didn't back up into you, did I? You alright?"

"I-I'm alright.." I managed to mutter back. It was odd hearing his voice sound so concerned for me. Up until now, most if not all of our interactions had been full of sarcastic, tyrannical but overall light-hearted jabs at each other, but in this very moment, I realized we may have unintentionally developed something here. I'm not saying it's necessarily romantic, but...there's a tension building up between us. It's not just in my head, is it? Does he feel it too? Is that why he's?...

"That...works too." Tanner catches up with us, alongside the man that had thrown the football. I didn't even realize they had been approaching us.

"What, did you plan that?" Ted turns to Tanner, sounding quite frustrated with him. "That could've hit her."

"Dude, I'm so sorry, I messed up my throw..." The man next to Tanner spoke with a genuine frown. "I-I meant to throw it higher up and hit the pole, the sun blocked my view. It's my fault."

"No, I told Dan to throw it, I'm sorry." Tanner speaks up as well, his hands resting on his hips nonchalantly. "I've been shouting at you two for, like, a good minute. I thought it would've been funny if Dan hit the pole.."

Ted and I are silent. Oh fuck. How long have they been trying to get our attention? How did we not hear them? I can tell Ted still isn't satisfied with the answer. Angry wasn't a good look for him, I don't think it's a good look for anyone.

"We need to buy you a whistle.." I manage to get out a joke, smiling to show everyone that I wasn't upset. I knew Tanner hadn't meant for anyone to get hurt. He probably trusted this 'Dan' to make the shot. Tanner wouldn't hurt a fly. He /would/ hurt a spider, though. He hates those things. "Yeah. Clearly." Tanner chuckles slightly, slipping his hands into his shorts pockets. "I'm really sorry."

"I'm okay, Tanner. Teddy's got me." I move away from the flagpole to place my arm on Ted's shoulder, leaning against it somewhat. I think my attempts at showing him I was OK finally worked, watching as he looks down at me with a friendly scoff. "I should've let it smack you in your stupid face." He remarks, finally bringing some of the tension from that altercation down. "Maybe, but at least I believe you now." I smile at Ted, moving my hand off his shoulder. Dan apologizes one last time before moving to rejoin the extras. Tanner let's us know that we'll be moving back inside to check on the shots before returning to the cameramen to help pack up. Ted and I start walking back to the house, though he pauses for a moment.

"What do you mean you 'believe me now'?" He asks, furrowing his brows while smiling. "Believe what?"

I give him a cutsey smile and reply simply.

"That you could carry me."

I walk a bit ahead of him, feeling the weight of my cheeks from how wide I'm smiling to myself. I hear a quiet scoff from Ted, though the rest of the walk is quiet.

After a few minutes of packing up and walking, we all return inside to look over the footage and set up for other scenes the extras will be filming. Now is the time we let Tanner know that we've figured out what our 'tell' is going to be. I look over at Joseph in the meantime, who's across the living room helping an extra with adjusting their outfit. As Ted explains the idea, Joe shoots me a look, furrowing his brows like I had just disobeyed a direct order. I return the look with a shrug. He's just going to have to deal with it. Tanner absolutely loved the idea, said it would add 'real intimacy' to a scene if he caught it on camera.

I suppose that's it, then. If I'm ever going in for a kiss, I'll look at Ted's lips to let him know.

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