#it being new year's and people probably having other things to do might have been a factor
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Late Night quick thing (New Age Sillies)
Bad news: That joke post about including Reset + Orchid is definitely not canon. (I legit got sad thinking about Reset being in a universe where Orchid isn't- because their stories are so so intertwined- but Nightmare 100% would NOT risk the whole twins exploding Error's soul thing.)
Good news: This means I COULD include Kane (Reset's older brother who usually dies in timelines where Reset is born) and use it to develope his character a bit more! Also! Perhaps a Blue × Dream kiddo is finally in the stars for me to design?
#new age au#really enjoying the idea of Reaper + Geno having an heir at some point (and them sending that heir over to Night's kingdom for#exposure to other places as well as to hang with his third cool knight dad who's hard at work 🙏)#Kane has little to no development besides being a perfect angel (foil to Reset's eventual turn to poor choices) so I'd love to do#to him what I do to every oc of mine. (Namely: Throw them into the Kingdom and see what they do.)#oh! and I could see Blue and Dream (beloved boys) listening to the warnings of possible complications if they try to have a lil babybones#and Dream deciding he'd take the risk and carry the growing soul#(<- though tbf this is MANY years into the future and they'd be well established knights of the realm)#i'm not evil so they *would* manage to avoid the twins curse and have a singular beautiful babybones#they'd get raised partially on the move but stay behind with Night and Error if the two had a more dangerous mission#and grow up to be an obnoxiously powerful warrior following after their dads#(but they'd probably be hesitant to follow into the footsteps of being a knight and might go on a quest with friends before choosing a#final path for themselves)#<- Most spoiled rotten kid ever. courtesy of Nightmare and Error and all their extended family <3#oh last note. Ancha has me cracking up w/ ideas for Cross potentially meeting someone and I was beamed w/ an old ship request post I saw and#I think it'd be funny to include Lust in here somehow... (probably call him smth else as a nickname but y'know-)#like. He works in the city around the castle as some sort of... idk tailor? and he's been making things for Nightmare for years without#knowing because Ccino always was discreet about the orders and providing measurements + always tipped well so it was none of his business#but one day it's like. before a big announcement ceremony or smth and Ccino drags Cross in by the scruff because no one can get him to get#clothes that actually fit aside from armor (hc he steals the others clothes a lot and wears 1 shirt until it's threadbare)#so Ccino makes him go to Lust and Lust is able to get him fitted for sone new outfits because. well. Lust doesn't do much but he's very very#handsome and Cross is super easily flustered and shy around new people and he's awkward and aughhh.#and then he thinks about the interaction for the next month before deciding he's going to ask Ccino to go back there again.#and Lust likes dressing Cross up in new outfits (everyone thinks it's great Cross is loosening up and meeting new friends cuz Lust introduce#s him to people in town) and it takes forever for Cross to get over his worries and ask Lust out to a ride on his horse (romantic. of course#) and Lust agrees because he's charmed.#and the best part would be Cross *actually* manages to keep it a secret. like. no one finds out until one morning Killer bursts into Cross'#room to wake him for surprise training and it's Cross. the weird Dog. and- holy shit did Cross have someone over???#Cross pulls the cool ones frfr 🙏#it's just a casual thing between them with little plot relevance or drama I think. just a chill lil relationship 🙏
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to be completely honest, the stranger things fandom has damn near ruined the show for me lmfao
#and i don't mean in the 'i know too much i can never be satisfied as GA again' way#people are just soooooo fucking petty#and i swear to god nobody in this fandom seems to remember that it's supposed to be... fun???#for them and for everyone else#like. bro. have u considered sitting down and maybe drinking a glass of *insert preferred juice*#people take the stupidest shit tooooooo seriously#also HEAVILY controversial opinion so i'm banking on nobody seeing this lest i get hashtag cancelled:#the vast majority of the characters are pretty bland and have middling chemistry#yes. this includes mike and will#i enjoy them. i like them. i don't think they're BAD. but sweetheart they are not that deep i'm sorry ToT#truly fascinates me how worked up people get over a handful of fictional pubescent suburbanites#yeah i'm losing followers if anybody sees this but i honestly do not give a shit#it might just be the mental illness but i barely care about any of it anymore even on a perfunctory level#i miss stranger things being a show i really really liked without being muddied by how fucking annoying fandoms are#(just in general but indo tend to fall into obnoxious ones and ST is no exception)#honestly half the entertainment i've gotten here has been from participating and half has been from watching other ppl squabble#i guess we all suck. haha#i'll probably be less of a holier-than-thou jackass in a couple weeks when i maybe get new meds#but til then i am honestly so sick of logging onto tumblr and having my dash at least half full of stranger things#i'm sick and tired and bored. i just wanna enjoy my blorbos in the peace of my own mind and then forget about them for a couple of years#maybe the hyperfixation is finally ending#honestly??? i hope so#lexi stfu challenge
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I’m in my early 20s so sometimes I forget I don’t live in a vacuum. If I fail here, if I pause here, there is so shame or rush, there are people around me that can help break my fall and I’m so lucky for that. My only job is to explore and figure out what will leave me with a fulfilling life and how my friends and family fit into that.
#I’m a neuroscience major and I have no idea what I want to do with it anymore.#in highschool and early university years it was always medical school#but first year and second year of university really broke me down#I have been considering what career I want since second year and have panicked and panicked and panicked#I don’t want to mess up the career I choose but. I have to understand that it’s ok if I do.#there’s probably no career that will be truly satisfactory#i’m rambling#I wish I had a clear cut goal#something that is driving me or something big and lofty I want to accomplish#I’m just going to list things I want in a career rn bc I’m ranting anyways#I don’t want to climb a hierarchy or rather I don’t care for it. I’m not the best at conversations and I’m terribly awkward#but I do get an energy boost when I talk to people#but my focus is best when I work on my own bc I tend to make more mistakes when working with others#when I do research for an assignment I can focus for hours at a time without getting up#all of these make me think that research might be smth to pursue rather than healthcare#but I’m scared about work life balance and general job stability#also imposter syndrome is going to hit hard#I have to do my best to get smth research positiony this summer so atleast I have experience before my last year of undergrad#and that way I’ll KNOW if it’s smth I want.#if all else fails I might go into medical lab tech bc it’s lab work forever and that sounds fun#or rad tech bc it’s a bit repetitive but also I’m scared that bc I would be working with ppl I’d make more mistakes#I just do NOT want to work in business#I’m so privelaged being able to choose a career like this when my parents couldn’t and had to grab at whatever they could#I think that’s part of the guilt of potentially failing. like I CANNOT fail my parents who worked so hard to be here and let me choose#GOD do I want stability most? do I want to learn something new regularly? id love to learn something new everyday#I think I might end up compromise and go into rad tech bc then I’ll be able to maybe do research with the brain and have a stable backup?#talks maburp#THERES TOO MANY CHOICES TOO MANY OPPORTUNITIES TOO MANY THINGS TO CONSIDER#I’m so lucky to be able to consider all these things#YAllah give me strength to make decisions and not get stuck like I keep doing this year. Yallah let opportunities drop on my lap
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Just me venting about printer stuff
I'm out here creating notes on articles and collecting ones I want to use for notes, all on my computer (my book collection is a whole other thing) and so I have long ass word doccuments (I can never spell that word correctly -_-) that I need to organize and tabs open with articles that let you print them and the need to figure out how to turn ones you can't into a doc you can print (easy with wikipedia, so text dense, but when it's something with a lot of pictures that creates it's own problem) and I just have so much stuff I plan to print out and put in my binder-grimoire (as opposed to my notebook ones. The binder is nice because I can stick all sorts of stuff in it and keep re-organizing it afterwards), but I have a problem. I bought a new, relatively cheap, printer because the one I had been using broke and I had limited access to it (It was not my own) and setting it up keeps feeling overwhelming, but I have so much stuff that I'm like
^me going through articles online and trying to keep track of everything I need to print.
#emma posts#i'm rambling#why tf do they want me to use an app to set this up?#If I want to set up a phone app it should be secondary to setting a printer up with my FUCKING LAPTOP#and then I've heard people saying that they've had problems with this printer when trying to connect to something other than the main devic#but this seemed like the most affordable option and I tend to stick to one piece of tech until something gives and I'm forced#to get something new#which you might be surprised by. how long I can hold out I mean.#I've been using a 2015 laptop for eight years and only god can stop me#or it not connecting to any new stuff I need. I've made it work so far though#that's nothing compared to how stubborn I was about my previous phone though#I used that thing until the screen literally fell off. I'm not exagerating. the bottom half of the screen got disconnected from the actual#phone itself. I will probably have to replace this new one sooner though#and I WILL once again look for the closest phone to my old one being sold. You will pry the home button from my cold dead hands#even though I somehow broke my current one and have to use touch assist#I still haven't switched to wireless headphones even though I use a bluetooth speaker#Do I know how to use them? Yes. Do I like them? no.#I am also tired of my phone trying to connect to my neighbor's smart tv when I watch youtube. THAT'S NOT OURS!#It does this even when I don't have bluetooth on. Which is most of the time#I am dealing with period hormones rn though so that is probably making this worse#I am too tired to get really angry though. Just frustrated and sad#I wonder how much of my stubborness about my tech is the autism and how much is the money#the cat facing the wrong direction in this picture is key to the vibes
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Rereading ayaka is in love with Hiroko senpai!!! Last time I read it I don't think it was finished/I didn't finish it but ack. Now I also want to be in love 😭😭😭
#i want to say i want to be someone like ayaka but in reality im probably more like hiroko#i used to be someone like ayaka. i was really tunnel visioned and i didn't consider much aside from the person i was interested in#but it's been years now and there's a lot more to consider and it's. hard and im even more scared now.#i think there's someone who im currently talking with who's trying to figure out if im into women or not and if im available or not#but it's that sort of thing where there's just. a lot in my shoulders and a lot to consider. i want a relationship eventually but.#there's just so much to consider right now. in the past i thought that as long as i could make my partner happy a rx is just btwn 2 of us#but when i did actually get into a serious long term relationship i realized that most people. do expect getting to have in laws.#people for the most part want to be loved proudly and not have to hide it. and i do too. but at the same time. i just. there's so much on me#i almost came out to my dad the other day while trying to console him. but maybe that news would just be the last straw for him. idk.#i just can't really afford to have my life be shaken up much more right now when i just rebuilt some stability.#especially when my parents are having a midlife crisis and both of them are leaning on me. my health worsening also stressed them out too.#i really thought I'd be braver and have less to worry about the older i got and the more independent i became but. ig not.#in my teens i told myself once i reached adulthood I'd be free to be myself and pursue happiness. in my 20s i tell myself after med school.#maybe once I'm finally out of med school and etc I'll have the opportunity to live my life. or maybe by then there will be another reason.#it's a real concern. i mean. sure I've never wanted kids I've always been ace and I've always liked women but. the societal pressure.#to other queer people the gaydar goes off easily but to the cishet audience i've mostly. been able to go unnoticed.#and when you're younger not having a bf or ppl you're interested in and being focused on your studies is a thing your parents are proud of#but as i get older. it's just been harder. i don't know how much longer i have before i have to conform or have the cat out of the bag.#i don't even get it sometimes. i really don't. the expectation of family and marriage is wanting happiness for your child right? but somehow#idk. idk. i really don't know. sometimes maintaining an image. might be more important than your child's feelings.#and i really can't be certain that between ego and saving face compared to me that. I'll come out on top. i really don't know.#idk. idk. i know there are ppl interested in dating me. but idk. i really need some time to process things through.#sometimes i ask myself how i would feel abt it and i really can't figure out how i feel at all.#it's ok to date someone u don't love ig. i mean. I've done it before. you can make yourself like someone after a while. but idk if i.#idk i just. i think im just really scared. and I'll need at least another month or so before anything is back on the table.#it's honestly just me running away from having to deal with sorting out thoughts and feelings 👍👍👍 which i eventually will have to face ig#but if i do fall in love ik i have it in me to sort those things out quickly i think. if im not too scared to let myself fall.#ig i just have to get more used to ppl being interested in me again ack 😭 it's easy to ignore it when dating someone but. now.#and it was fine in the summer bc i wasn't really around too many ppl my age. but. ugh. unfortunately. i do have. a face and a personality.#delete later
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once again thinking about my post-trimax legato somehow miraculously survives despite everything au and vashgato agenda aka The Worlds Most Miserable Roadtrip
#one of these days ill get back to it#its the fucking. anger and hatred and loathing from legato @ vash#because legato and vashs entire dynamic is fucking#legato has lain down on the tracks. and he doesnt want to be saved. he needs vash to be the train that runs him over.#and then he lives. somehow. he missed his chance to die.#he had no reason to live. his one reason to carry on was for a cause he fully intended to die for and then he couldnt even do that#mirrored by vash. who also went into that confrontation with knives fully intending to not make it out#and now the world is saved! knives failed and now hes gone. and thats a whole fucking thing to unpack for everyone#the fucking anger. the grief. the whole fuckin mess of contradictory emotions that happens as a result of abuse from a family member w vash#fucking Everything wrt legato. the devastation of knowing knives is gone + he failed + legato lived + *vash* lived#the slowwwwwww realization over a long long period of time that legato worshipped the ground knives walked on#but knives only ever regarded legato with like. the same way someone might an ant. a bug. maybe a dog.#legato who only ever wanted to be Seen by knives#and knives who never particularly cared for legato beyond his usefulness#legato who begins following vash because its probably what knives would want + there is truly nothing else on this planet for him.#he has no other reason to live#and vash allowing him out of some sense of pity / resignation + being able to see that theres Nothing left for legato#+ probo some sense of obligation too. of heres another person his brother fucked up. which means hes vash’s responsibility to fix#all the while legato resents vash for living when knives isnt here. resents him for failing to kill him.#resents him for being the only other thing that knives actually cared about + who rejected knives when all legato ever wanted#was knives’ attention#and vash who frankly resents legato too. resents the fact that. of all the people who managed to survive. it was legato and not ww#resents all the shit that legato put him through. all the people he killed all the suffering he inflicted#the two of them looking at each other and the fucking. recognition of the self thru the other#and seeing all the shit they hate about themselves in the other#theres also again the shared grief of them both losing someone incredibly important to them both but who was also responsible for some#abuse to Both of them. unpacking it. working through it. moving forward.#learning How to move forward as a Whole when theyre both two deeply traumatized deeply suicidal fucks who no longer have the singular goals#thatve been their sole reason for existing for the past. many. years. and having to find new reasons to keep living#but most of all. i think they should make out sloppy in the desert thank you goodnight
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A Simple Guide to Not Being Afraid to Write Comments to Fic You Read
I've seen a lot of posts about the current state of fanfiction comments. Writers, especially writers who have been in fandom for a decade or more, are frustrated by the lack of comments, and have noticed a definite decline in comments (and all other forms of reader interaction) in the past ten years or so. Many readers feel daunted by the expectation of leaving comments, afraid they'll do something wrong. As a fandom old maid, the latter confused me for a while, until I realized that most of the people who feel that way probably have not been taught this form of communication.
But your loving fandom elders are here for you. Come along as your auntie tumblr user icemankazansky makes this shit easy.
The easiest way to think of fanfiction comment etiquette is to compare it to something you likely already know: Gift Receiving Etiquette.
Fanfiction began as largely a gift economy. And a lot of it still is! You'll see authors participate in exchanges like Yuletide and Id Pro Quo; those are ficswaps in which authors write for a specific person to specific prompts. And even outside that, fanfiction is not written for money; authors write and post it simply for the joy of creation and community with fellow fans. Fic is posted free for anyone to enjoy. Is that not a gift?
So. When you as a reader finish the chapter or story you're reading and you are faced with the comment box, try to follow the same etiquette you would when receiving a gift. (And even if you didn't love this gift and it's not your favorite gift ever, we already know that it's more useful than the products from your cousin's MLM that they're passing off as gifts, because you read the story. At the very least, it entertained you for the time you took to read it.)
The big rule of gift receiving etiquette is not to insult the person who gave you the gift, either directly or indirectly. That's it. Full stop.
I've been seeing a lot of comments lately that are just along the lines of, "Thank you for writing this story and sharing it with us." A+, top of the class, full marks, you're doing amazing. If you don't feel comfortable commenting on the story itself, that is perfect feedback. And that's the most basic way you respond to a gift, yes? Thank you for the gift. Thank you for thinking of me. Thank you for sharing.
Does this rule mean that you cannot say anything at all that might be negative about anything? No, absolutely not. What you want to avoid is saying something that is, at its core, a negative evaluation of the author or their work. Let's do some examples.
Character A's obliviousness about Character B's MASSIVE crush on them made me so frustrated! I was tearing my hair out internally screaming, "JUST LET HIM LOVE YOU."
✔️ Excellent comment! You're allowed to have all sorts of feelings about things that happen in the story, and in fact authors LOVE to hear about any emotions they made you feel. Yes, frustration is not a positive emotion, but the thing you are expressing frustration about is not the author themselves or their shortcomings.
Contrast that to:
I was really frustrated that it took you so long to post this chapter. The cliffhanger at the end of the previous chapter had me tearing my hair out, and then you just left us hanging FOREVER!
❌ Nope! Here what you are expressing is frustration with the author and how fast they come out with new chapters. Imagine your sister buys you a gift for your birthday, but she isn't able to give it to you until the next week, and you respond with: "What took you so long?" I think Emily Post would frown on that.
Reframing
The way you say something and the point of view from which you give feedback can have a HUGE impact on the message you're sending. Let's take the last comment (the one about wanting an update) and see what happens when we reframe the same sentiment as a positive:
I was SO EXCITED to see that you updated this story! I have really been looking forward to seeing what happened after the cliffhanger in the last chapter.
✔️ Now it's not an insult. The author will be happy to know that you are happy to see new work from them.
This idea extends beyond the story itself: to the fandom, the characters, the pairing, the tropes, etc. Let's do some examples.
I looooove reading about these sexy boys SO IN LOVE even though the movie you're writing about is SOOOOO problematic.
❌ Nope! Assume that the author enjoys the canon, characters, pairing, etc. in the stories they write. This comment is insulting to the author because it basically says, "That thing you love is not great, and you should probably feel bad for liking it." Imagine your aunt gifts you a sweater from a popular retailer, and you respond with, "This is so cute, I love it! It's a shame that it was made in a sweatshop." Do you have a valid point about the canon or the retailer's business practices? You very well might. Is this the proper time and place to talk about it? Absolutely not.
Let's do a reframing exercise. You should be very careful about how you approach commenting negatively on anything in the story that appears in the tags list, but you can make it a compliment and good feedback if you have the right perspective. See the difference with these two approaches:
I kind of think frottage is disgusting, but I liked it in this story.
❌ Nope! You just told the author you think their kink is disgusting. That's like telling your poor aunt who is just trying to keep you warm this winter that she has awful taste in knitwear. Try again.
Frottage normally isn't my kink, but I love your other stories with this pairing, so I decided to give it a try, and I'm SOOOOO GLAD that I did! This story was 🔥🔥🔥
✔️ "This normally isn't my thing, but you made me expand my horizons!" Authors love to hear that. That's like telling your aunt, "I never thought this color looked good on me, but I look so cute in this sweater! I'm so glad you helped me step outside my comfort zone, because I'm the better for it."
thank u, next
The last thing I want to address is this new trend I've seen in commenting lately: placing an order. If your mom surprises you with new headphones, you don't respond with, "I wanted the white ones 🙁," or, "You should get me a new phone, too." It's easy to see why that isn't appropriate in a gifting situation, and it's also not appropriate when commenting on fanfiction.
Let's do some examples:
This fic was soooo cute, but it would have been a million times better if Character A had been with Character C instead of Character B.
❌ There are a few things going on here. Number one, you're telling your mom you wanted the white headphones, not the ones she actually bought you. You're also disparaging the A/B pairing that the author chose to write about, and as we discussed, we can assume that the author wrote the pairing because they liked it. Even if it's not their favorite and/or they also write A/C, they made a choice for this story to be A/B, and the comments section of a fic is not the place to question choices the author made in their own work.
You should write a story where Character Z who is not even in this story does [thing that is vaguely referenced in the B plot].
❌ "You should get me a new phone, too."
I want a sequel. 😞
❌ "Thank you, next!"
You can reframe this kind of sentiment if you are careful about it, and it's not all you say.
I really loved this story. I would be so interested to see these ideas explored further if you ever decide to write more in this universe.
✔️ Not "gimme." Not "more." This is, "If you build it, I will come." It is a HUGE difference.
You already know how to do this. You know how to graciously accept a gift; just use that same etiquette, and boom! Now you know how to fearlessly write a comment to fic you read. You're doing amazing. Go forth and comment.
#fandom#fanfiction#commenting#fanfiction etiquette#emily post please help me express my feelings about this yaoi
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Everyone in the Bat Clan has been noticing something over the years, specially about Tim.
Every so often he will go to do something with his hands or even his entire body, such as swaying or shaking his hands, but always stops himself.
There’s almost this look of annoyance on his face that just barely hides discomfort, but he brushes it off quickly.
Bruce noticed and, thinking about Robin more than anything, offered some kind of fidgeting device to help him stay on task, only for Tim to snap at him for the first time. It was his usual snark or commenting on Bruce’s well being, but a real moment of lashing out.
He decided then not to bother Tim about his clear want to move around it play with something even if it’s just his hands, mainly because he was doing his job well.
Yet, as he starts to really try and be a good parent to his kids and realises that Tim is one of the places he messed up most by basically using him to cope with grief, he decides to ask the rest of the family what they think.
Dick says it could be ADHD and he needs movements, with Barbara backing it up with a few websites in agreement.
Damian says he should mediate and Cass so what agrees but says it probably won’t help someone like Tim that much.
Duke and Steph make up a somewhat chaotic plan of coercing him into telling them what he needs, out of love and somewhat aggressive care.
It’s Jason who just scoffs and says, “It’s stimming, you idiots. He has like, super messed up standards cause of his parents, right? They probably didn’t allow it but he’s got that like, autastic thing.”
Only Jason Todd could say something so smart followed by completely idiocy.
But he is right, very much so. It might also explain why sometimes he seemingly couldn’t handle touch but when he panicked he need to be squeezed as tightly as possible.
Naturally, with a family of emotionally repressed vigilantes, they decide to subtly let him know it’s okay.
Dick is the worst with it, speaking far too loudly about how Autism is okay and how he wants to learn to support autistic kids, while Bruce thinks nodding along to this helps.
Damian just stares at Tim for five minutes before bailing and running away.
When a month passes and Tim seem more like he’s even more ashamed than anything my, Cass smashes her hand on the table at dinner and drags him out of the room to talk to him.
Tim is forced to sit and listen to his sister, who may or may not be his favourite sibling, talk about how he’s not damaged or wrong for needing to stim and move his body. She calls him out on how he is being a hypocrite, for accepting people like Bart and Barbara and and her for their disabilities whether ADHD or something physical but not himself.
Tim wouldn’t have been moved by this if it was anyone else, but never in all the time he’s known her has he heard Cass say so many words in one go nor can see her cry so much. She’s loud when she cries, making up for her silence, but it’s only something any of them have seen twice and that was Bruce and Steph.
He doesn’t just magically accept that he’s neurodivergent, nor does he ever want a title as to what is different about him, but the difference is still noticeable.
A week later him and Dick are watching an episode of their show and something Tim adores, a comic series, is referenced. Instead of what he usually does, that being sitting there as still as he can, he bats his hands around a for a few seconds before pausing and waiting for Dicks reaction.
When Dick beams at him brighter than a sun he continues, smacking the couch and even Dicks arm in his excitement.
A few days later he makes a high pitched noice just to get to an itch in his throat and doesn’t realise that Jason is there, yet when the other responds with the same noice, given a bit deeper, Tim smile. Bruce walks in on them making strange noises at each other in a sort of echo.
It’s months later when it’s his birthday and his family has come together to buy him a new, stupidly expensive camera only to reveal they also added a red light room in the manner for him to print them that they really see how much safer he feels.
He flaps his hands aggressively and jumps in place, rumbling out words that don’t all much and thanking them over and over.
He squeals happily but only has a moment where he looks shamed before Bruce holds out a flat palm for him to smack excitedly.
Later, when he gets overwhelmed and crashes a little, Duke lies on top of him to give him pressure only for Steph to sit on him.
#batfam#tim drake#bat family#dc comics#batfamily#dc universe#dc#tim drake is red robin#tim drake is a menace#damian wayne#Bruce Wayne#Jason Todd#dick grayson#Stephanie brown#cassandra cain#duke Thomas#barbara gordon#autistic tim drake#Tim Drake centric#Tim Drake angst#implied bad parents Jack and Janet Drake#jack and janet drake
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in further neopets discord news, oh boy is there drama in my awful virtual pet game website today. strap in if you want way too much information on neopets’ broken economy
for some context, an event has just launched called the faerie festival. this is the first event to be run by the ‘new’ TNT (aka. the neopets team aka. the staff) since the leadership change, and they've said in recent editorials that this year’s faerie festival is going to be a combo of two previous popular events:
the faerie quest event, wherein people can get a free quest from a faerie every day in exchange for a reward (something that’s normally limited to random special events and therefore quite rare)
the charity corner, a highly requested event that hasn’t run since 2020, where you can donate random items to get points that can then be exchanged in a prize shop
there’s a LOT of ultimately worthless items on neopets that people gather from doing dailies and things, but charity corner actually gave a use to hoarding all of these, so people have wanted it back for ages. people have been going out of their way to hoard extra junk items for like 2 months now, after TNT teased the event in an editorial
this event was originally meant to start on 20th august, but got delayed 2 weeks, presumably because of issues behind the scenes. people were generally a bit disappointed but relieved if this meant they were going to get a proper, well prepared event without bugs
flash forward to 2nd october, the actual start of the event. nothing actually opens up for several hours on the day- that’s somewhat waved off by the fact that staff presumably need to be in the office to launch everything, a midnight launch isn’t expected
but, eventually, it opens!
well… kinda. there’s one page with one dialogue scene available and a link to an event page for spending neocash (the premium currency that costs irl money). the faerie quest page is giving out free daily quests, which is nice, but literally just the same as they did back in 2020. where’s the item recycling part? did this really need 2 weeks of delay?
the next day, the FAQ page for the event is published neopets support site (but not announced via news). still no sign of the actual event starting- seems like that might not be until moday?
as well as multiple grammatical errors, the FAQ had a few… concerning elements. most notably:
only 10 items could be donated per day
points would be awarded based on the rarity of the item, with the maximum rarity being r200-500, worth 15 points each
this meant people's hoarding of junk items for months was... essentially useless
r200-500 items basically means either hidden tower items (rare, expensive items that can only be bought in an account age locked shop with a purchase limit of 1 per day) orrrr….. neocash items. In other words, players could either spend an exorbinate amount of their in-game currency to buy up items to donate, or they could just hand over their credit card and pay to win
people were Not Happy about this
not long after info spread and the outcry started (and a sizeable number of people cancelled their premium membership in protest), the FAQ was quietly updated to remove mention of donating neocash items. that took away to pay to win element at least
however, now there was a new problem. a tombola man problem.
i mentioned already that the highest rarity items are pretty rare and expensive. one of the least expensive of these is an item called the Squeezy Tombola Guy Toy. you can probably see where this is going already
because you can only buy a maximum of one tombola guy per day from the hidden tower, your only option if you want to buy more than that in a day is to go to user shops. however, in light of the event, people had already started buying and hoarding tombola guy toys. equally, others were buying them purely to sell at a profit. this made the perfect storm and caused the price of the tombola guy toy, which was normally 110k NP, to explode up to 500k, 600k, even 700k within just one day
BUT THEN THE FAQ GOT UPDATED AGAIN. surprise, you can now donate 30 items per day! also they just got rid of the highest rarity tier altogether. the maximum you can get for an item is now 8 points, for rarity r102-r179.
this has now made the squeezy tombola guy toys useless. unless you’re a collector they don’t serve any function beyond that of a normal neopets toy (of which there’s thousands of much cheaper options). the price has now plummeted down to BELOW what it originally was and many users now have piles and piles of the dolls sitting in their inventory, mocking them
so what now? well, because no one ever learns, everyone is now flocking to what is now the cheapest high-rarity item eligible for donation. most are going for omelettes, which have a few different options at r102+. these have also inflated by like 400% from before the event, but unlike the squeeze tombola guys, these are only worth a few thousand neopoints, so not as bad a potential loss in comparison
it’s worth noting that while all this is going on in preparation for the recycling event, neopets is also experiencing insane inflation in a lot of other items right now, including those required for people to complete faerie quests. for example, a Griefer, which cost 5000 np just last week, is now worth selling for 1 MILLION
So yeah. 3 days into the event and that’s where we are so far. who knows what tomorrow might bring
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SHOW ME HOW
Read this or DNI
virgin!reader x ellie williams
SUMMARY: you thought the love you felt for ellie was in a platonic way, but maybe deep inside you the answer was already there, just waiting for it to be revealed, in a dream that Ellie is willing to help you with.
CW: smut, virginity loss, pet names (pretty girl, babe, baby, good girl), first kiss, corruption, thigh riding.
It’s been aproximately ten years since you first met her, Ellie Williams, your best friend and the person your whole family adores probably as much as they adore you. The only one that knows everything about you, the one that brings your true self, the one that’s seen almost everything.
You’ve been friends since forever, best friends. The type to have sleepovers, to hug and hold hands, cuddle and be all the time together, do everything together. And of course people said things and thought things about it, about how close you were and how best friends don’t to that, but the answer you two gave was always “we’re like family” and it was credible, enough.
It wasn’t a lie though, or so you thought since it was her idea to give the answer. She’d come up with most of the plans, most responses, most of everything. Not because you never suggested anything but because she’s way more stubborn than you are and there’s no way she let you take the big decisions, there’s also no way at all that she takes no as a response and you’re the biggest people pleaser she’s ever known.
And again, it’s been years of friendship, years of seeing each other in all type of ways for many different reasons. Years of what seemed like endless nights of talking nonstop, or days even. Months when there was no school or job or anything to do but be with each other all the time unless Ellie had plans with other girls “friends” that she’ll end up bragging about later. So you knew everything about each other, you’d tell everything detailed, you trusted each other.
And she’d always assure you that everything she did with or for you was for the better, same applied for her, in different ways of course. She’s never been problematic or mean or anything like that, but she was the one to make you smoke and drink for the first time in your life. And you, you only made her listen to your boring music for hours or have the cute and boring plans as she calls them. But at the end of the day, is all fair, you both do what’s best for each other based on your different needs.
That’s why you love her so much, and until this week you’ve thought it was pure platonic love, the one that you feel for your family, and she’s family. But she changed everything, everyone said it’ll eventually happen, and you always, always prayed to god that It didn’t, you failed.
Ellie spoke for hours about this new girl she’d just met, something casual as usual, but apparently it stocked to you because later that day you had a dream about it. And it doesn’t really bother you to have a dream like that, not even because she’s in it, because it doesn’t mean anything right? But it felt too good and too real to forget or ignore or let go. And the more you think about it, the more you keep feeling like it might actually mean something.
Because she was in fact hot, attractive in all possible ways, and she’s not just hot but also pretty, delicate in her way. She’s smart and sweet and knows you incredibly good, and she’s always supportive. And she shows she cares about you, even when she’s all awkward and shy about it she’d do anything to let you know she cares about you as much as you care about her.
And there’s nothing else that you love more than that, and now probably nobody else that can make you feel it, you won’t let anyone else try to fill that space. It’s just not the same even if you tried. It’s not Ellie.
So now that you’re currently at her house in her bed, cuddling, you’ve been thinking about this while situation, how to address it without being awkward for you and without being too explicit as well.
She doesn’t mind it, she knows you’ve had thoughts like this about girls before, but you’ve never done anything romantic with anyone before. Not even kissed anyone or hold hands, nothing. Not because you’re innocent or afraid but because you haven’t found someone worth your first experiences.
“What’re you thinking ‘bout?” you can feel her hands rubbing circles on your back as she speaks, suddenly stopping and letting go of her phone, making you groan. You’ve been watching random shit in her phone for hours, trying to keep her busy from reading you. “Nothing” your hands move unconsciously tighter around her, pressing the side of her stomach and making you feel the small laugh that your very fake ‘nothing’ had elicited in her.
“You’ve been zoning out, I thought you wanted to sleep but you’re clearly not tired, so” she let go of you, slowly readjusting herself on the bed so that she could properly rest her back on the headboard “what is it? Mhm?”
“It’s something sex related, you know it’s all awkward f’ me el” you shifted your eyes towards her half leaded ones, furrowing at her corky smile “see? you’re already laughing at me and I-“ your voices overlapped, making you stop talking first “You gotta find yourself a boy or girl or whatever. If you keep hoping for the one worth your body then you’re gonna fucking lose your mind” little does she know, you thought, laughing at her comment and motioning your hand as in a silent ‘forget it’
“I mean it” Ellie spoke again, clearly determined to make you speak “It’s your fault, maybe if you stopped telling me every detail of all the girls you ‘relieve stress’ with then I would keep being an innocent girl” you positioned your hands together, as if you were praying. Now sitting in front of her.
You stopped the moment she hit your arm, rolling your eyes “You have no innocence in your body, you’ve always been a fucking mess, specially with people” before you could say anything about it she spoke again “Tell me, you know I don’t care” she shrugged her shoulders, making a small pout. She looked particularly pretty today.
“Did you do something today? y’ look different” Ellie rolled her eyes, letting out a exaggerated groan “eyeliner maybe, now stop avoiding and tell me about whatever wet dream you had now” yup, there she was, best friend that knows everything. And the stupid friend that besides being people pleaser knows shit about lying.
“I fucking hate you” a pillow thrown by you made her open her eyes again, chuckling at how obvious you were. “remember what you told me the weekend? I dreamt about it… but you were there and it felt wrong” you mumbled the last words, audible enough for Ellie to understand. She didn’t care, neither did you, well, you tried not to care much. But your body reacted before your mind would let you do anything so you felt already sweating and practically burning. And again, she knew and she noticed, but didn’t care.
“Why? didn’t I fuck you good enough? I’m not worth your body either?” Ellie’s characteristic sheepish smile formed on her face as she got closer to you, leaning on her elbows and tilting her head, mocking you. “I’m not gonna give you details, I’m just saying I feel wrong… it doesn’t mean anything but-“ “it means something, don’t be a pussy and accept you might feel like fucking your best friend”
Hearing the words out loud was less frightening than you would expect, maybe it was Ellie’s voice but the idea wasn’t as disgusting as you felt it was. Not wrong either.
���Stop it, alright? you know I would never” her eyes felt like they were piercing your body, like they could read your mind, like she could eat you alive any moment. And the closer she moved to you the more stupid you felt “Ellie, please” you tried pushing her away once she was practically on top of you, she was playing of course, and she would stop. “You seem to like it, tell me what you dreamt of, Mhm?” Or maybe she meant it this time.
You weren’t sure what to do or say, she’s never played like this with you, and you’ve never even kissed anyone. Yet before you could try anything she laughed. Her hands were pressed on top of yours, sinking in the mattress along your bodies. And her face was so close to yours her mocking laugh brushed your cheeks. You were craving her now.
She let go of you, resting her body against the headboard again and shifting her eyes towards the sides of the bed, looking for an empty space on the wooden tables to place her phone. “Come here” her hands patted her lap, spreading her legs to make some space for you.
And so you did, crawling to her lap and sitting comfortably on it, positioning your legs in between hers. Ellie’s hands slowly cupped your face “I’m doing my job as a friend, this doesn’t count if you don’t want it too, yeah?” a small laugh brushed her lips, mocking your noticeable lost eyes that were wandering all over her face, from her eyes to her lips as she spoke.
She’d made a mess out of you already, without even touching you. But her tenderness, her voice, her body, the way she felt snd smell, everything had a specific effect on you that had been hiding for a long while. It was like drinking for the first time.
Her lips pressed on yours, it was a tender kiss, sweet and gentle. It didn’t last long “it’s okay, it’s only natural baby” her hands moved from your face to your thighs, caressing every inch of them in the most delicate way ever. Nothing you could ever imagine on your own.
So you kissed her again, now with an idea of what to do but letting her guide your every moves. Her tongue eventually got involved as well, dancing with yours and filling your mouth with the most delicious motions ever. Again, nothing you could ever imagine in your own.
You could feel the heat and wetness increase in between your legs, ashamed for getting like this so fast but too focused on Ellie’s body to actually care. She purposely lifted the leg you were sitting on, shaking it the moment she felt her knee against your cunt. “You can move… it’s alright” she mumbled in between kisses, leading your waist with her hands so you could grind on her.
You knew what she liked, based on everything she’d told you before, so you did what you could, moaning on her mouth as she liked it, and letting her guide you as well. You added pressure on your own, riding her leg practically, gently jumping on it whenever you felt like you needed more.
“Yeah, just like that baby. You’re doing so good” her hands tucked your dress on your panties, right above your waist so you could move freely. Then she pushed you closer, making you rest your head on her neck. And you took the chance to do something you’ve dreamt of, tasting it and leaving marks on it along wet kisses that kept making her as wet as you.
You could hear her small whines in your ear every time your kisses an grinding combined, she could cum just by your touch, and so could you. But what was the fun in that?
“What did you dream?” her hands moved back to your ass, guiding it over her thigh, slowly. “Uhm…f-fuck” you couldn’t speak properly, too focused on the sensation “your fingers” you managed to say. It was pathetic for both, to be enjoying this so much. It didn’t feel right, but it didn’t count right?
“That all?” you shocked your head, feeling a knot of pleasure forming on your stomach and your legs getting weaker at every movement Ellie guide your body to do. “I was…on my knees” too shy to say the words out loud you gulped, hoping she’d understand “yeah? what happened first?” The grip on you tightened the moment she noticed you getting closer to your climax, making every move painfully slower “Y-Your fingers… please”
“What a good girl, already begging” her hands grabbed your waist, tight enough to make you stop “take it off, I need to see you whole or I won’t do anything” she gripped your dress as she spoke, pulling the hem of it. You hesitated before doing it, this was new for you, and for the first time ever you felt genuinely innocent with her, so dumb and ashamed of yourself.
Her lips took you out of trance, pressing them on your temple and murmuring something in between “it’s okay” kiss “you can” kiss “trust me” kiss “please baby, just let me see you” and now her eyes were in front of yours, she knew how to use the puppy eyes. You nodded, feeling Ellie’s hands slowly move to the back of your dress, unsipping it.
You stood on your knees, in between Ellie’s legs. You could feel your dress loosening as you heard the zip lowering down your body until it stopped at your lower back. You helped Ellie remove it, raising your arms so she could finally take it off, revealing your bare chest immediately, accompanied by your panties, that were removed as well.
Being completely naked in front of Ellie felt right, it didn’t count, this whole experience. But how you wish it did. The way her excitement is revealed by her eyes, wandering all over you and taking note of every mole, mark, anything that’s in your body and it’s usually unnoticed. Her eyes, her freckles, her hair, her touch and voice, all so gentle yet so hungry. She’s starving already, and you adore that.
Her breathing became erratic as how inviting you looked, she needed to touch you, to hear you and savour you whole.
Ellie tapped the sides of your waist, pushing you carefully and somehow not breaking eye contact. She need you but couldn’t get you as she wanted in her current position, so once she got you sitting in front of her, patiently waiting, she started to take her clothes off.
Being at her house, with you, she wasn’t wearing more than a hoodie she’s probably been wearing for days already. and her usual pair of boxers, already drenched under some black shorts. Ellie was quickly, motioning her hand once she finished so you could sit on her lap again.
You obeyed, sitting on her and waiting for her to instruct your movements again. Both her index and middle finger brushed your lips. You looked at her, furrowing your brows a little “open” Ellie murmured, opening her own mouth as well.
She slowly introduced them inside your mouth, unconsciously smiling at the pretty image in front of her. You took them in, brushing them with your tongue and covering them with your saliva. They moved in and out of your mouth, slowly. “good girl”
Her free hand was resting on your thigh, making small circles near your hip bone with her thumb. You wanted to move, you needed it, but the fear of making a mistake was bigger, it wouldn’t count though, but something inside you felt like it might.
Her fingers came out of your mouth, you noticed the string of saliva connecting them with your lips, letting out your tongue one las time to cut it. “You’re being so good f’ me baby” her voice came out slightly husky, breathing brushing your lips as she spoke.
Her hand trailed down your body until it came to your clit, massaging it painfully slowly and making you sigh in pleasure. She started slow, making small circles on it as her mouth kept occupied by your hardened nipples, her eyes kept fixated on you as she did her every move.
You tried pressing yourself on her, delicately coordinating your body to her motions and rubbing yourself against her fingers.
Her fingers stopped moving on your clit suddenly, moving now up and down your folds until she decided to finally let you have what you wanted, teasing your arousal by pressing the tip of her fingers right above it.
“Ellie…” you whimpered, desperately pressing yourself again her fingers. A ‘pop’ made you look down, realizing how badly she’d been covering both of your breasts with saliva “what baby?” her chin pressed in between them, looking straight into your eyes “I need you, I want you to fuck me” you begged, tightening your fists besides each side of your body, fully desperate “please”
“So pretty…asking for me” Ellie nodded, bringing your face closer to her as her fingers made their way inside you, motioning in and out of your aching cunt. She started slow and gentle, caressing your back until she heard those pretty moans you let out, and her name in small whimpers.
So she did it faster. And you did your job too, riding her fingers at some point eventually, the way they curved inside you, her knuckles hitting the outside of your cunt whenever she did it too hard and how deliciously she kept on rubbing your clit with her thumb. It was impossible for you to keep immobile.
“El, fuck…gonna cum” her smile widened, moving her face to your neck and leaving a tail of wet kisses on it, she murmured a ‘yeah?’ to which you nodded desperately, both increasing its movements until the pleasure became overwhelming, making you press you whole weight on Ellie as you got to your climax. Covering her whole hand in your juices.
“You made a mess pretty girl, mind me helping?” her fingers kept on moving some seconds after you came, abruptly removing them, eliciting a small whimper out of your lips.
You could feel your inner thighs covered in wet, she tried cleaning some of it with the rest of your thighs before moving her hand up your face again. You already knew what to do, licking them and flavoring your own taste.
She moved her face closer to yours as well, removing her fingers out of your mouth once you licked your juices off and pressing her lips on yours one last time “gotta clean you, yeah? you did good, just rest babe”
-
reblogs are very much welcomed <3
Check this !!! FREE PALESTINE
#( 𓍼𓈀A𝕽𝐂𝐇𝖎V𝕰 ⨟ 𓍯 ellie )#( 𝕽 𝜊S.mut )#ellie williams#ellie williams smut#ellie smut#ellie fanfic#ellie williams fanfic#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie tlou2#ellie williams tlou2#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams x fem!reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#ellie x you#ellie x y/n#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#ren masterlist ᵎᵎ ִ ۫ ּ ⊹#A𝕽𝐂𝐇𝖎V𝕰 ( ellie )
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Been thinking a lot lately about romanced Astarion post-spawn ending.
Because like. The Funnest™ thing about cptsd is how much of it gets delayed. When you're trapped in a lengthy, ongoing traumatic situation, you do not have the ability to process and start healing your mental wounds. Your brain and body go into survival mode, and all that matters in the moment is that you somehow cope with the horrors. He wouldn't have been able to even begin dealing with the physical, mental and emotional toll of two hundred years of torture, brutalization and dehumanization while he was under Cazador's control; he is in constant danger, surrounded by sharks in the water, and survival means not letting them smell blood. He can't afford to fall apart, to show weakness. He is shockingly functional and competent in-game, partly because he has to be to work as a game character, but also partly because...it do be like that, to some degree. When death, for whatever reason, is not an option, you just have to shut down and keep going. People adapt in order to survive, and when we learn that showing an "injury" (physical or psychological) only gets us punished, we learn to hide it.
Early-game Astarion is terrified - of Cazador, of Godey, of being hunted down by his siblings, of being staked or sold off at the first opportunity by Tav and the other companions, of turning into a mindflayer, of another painful transformation, of losing himself when he's only just regained his autonomy after two centuries, of what Cazador will do to him if he ever finds him - the man is overwhelmed by fear. He's on thin ice as a vampire, and he's not going to give them any more reason to want him gone. Survival instinct is still in control, and in this new situation, crafting some fragile safety for himself means not only selling his body for protection, but also being useful. Clear-headed. Good in a fight.
Endgame Astarion finds himself in a completely different situation. The time-sensitive overarching threats - Cazador and impending ceremorphosis - have been dealt with. He has a loving, supportive partner he's really starting to feel safe with - Tav/Durge has proved that they're on his side, that their affection is genuine, that they don't just want him for the one thing he's been told he's good for. They've told him they're going to help him find a workaround for his sun allergy. He's getting fed regularly. He has time to stop, and breathe, and just. Recuperate.
For the first time in 200 years, he is safe.
And it will probably take a while to catch up, during which time he will seem to be coping really well, but at some point, his brain is going to realise that he's safe, and it's going to finally start processing the sheer fucking horror he's been through. Since I haven't seen anyone talking about this particular fun aspect of cptsd, allow me to offer u some thoughts on issues Astarion and Tav might end up dealing with in the months/years postgame, during the
✨ Delayed Trauma Response ✨
Memory Gaps: Astarion realising, as he opens up to Tav, that there are entire years or decades of his life from which he has only a handful of memories. Great big blank stretches where he has no idea where he was, who he was with, what was happening to him. Some of the gaps cover years at a time where he was so dissociated and shut down that he just didn't retain any memories of what was going on around him. Some are shorter periods of particularly horrific torture that his brain has deliberately blocked out to protect him.
Recovered Memories: At some point, years into the future when he's done A Lot of healing, he might find that every now and then, a fragment of those lost memories will unexpectedly come back to him. He'll catch a particular scent on the breeze, or overhear a specific phrase in the street, or cross paths with someone whose face is oddly familiar, and he'll get a glimpse of an acute horror he'd filed neatly away where it couldn't hurt him anymore. He very rarely remembers all the context to those flashes of his past. He might recall that he was punished, but not what he was punished for, or he might remember words spoken by a greedy conquest, but be unable to recall the man's face.
Dissociation: Tav knows going into this relationship that Astarion has basically made an art out of dissociating during sex. They also know, from their shared encounter with the drow twins, that he's not great at enforcing his own boundaries - he'll always say he'll speak up and back out if he stops having fun, but in practice he rarely does; he's not used to having the option of saying no to his partner, and being punished if he tries. So they know there's going to be some practice and experimentation and negotiation necessary there, to figure out the rough limits of his comfort zone. But once he starts really processing, there may be days where he just checks out completely. Tav will touch his shoulder, and he'll startle and apologise - "Terribly sorry, darling, I was miles away for a moment there." And Tav will gently point out that he's been sat in the same spot vacantly staring into the middle distance for hours. They've been checking in on him occasionally and this is the first time he's responded. It's unsettling, to say the least.
Lost Time: Astarion was very young when he was turned, physically mature but emotionally juvenile. He was basically an overgrown teenager, in the phase of life where elves are just starting to learn who they are and what they want, and figure out their place in the world. But he never got to do that, because he spent his formative young adult years in a world where everyone became an abuser, where his only means of surviving was to smile and charm and obey while even his basic human dignity was stripped away. He learned that communication is based on manipulation. He learned that the powerful can do whatever they like to the weak. He learned an incredibly toxic, abusive way of life, and that was his family dynamic, his everyday life, for as long as he can remember. Now that he's free and safe, he's realising that the world doesn't actually work that way and that he's now far behind even shorter-lived races in social/emotional development. He's grieving for the person he could've been. He's grieving for the life he could've lived. He's grieving for all the years he already lost, and the ones he'll lose in the future as he flounders to catch up. A decent chunk of his life was stolen from him, and that's time he will never get back.
Flashbacks & Night Terrors: Specifically the kind where your brain convinces you that an injury you had a long time ago is actually an injury you have (or are receiving) right now. There are nights where he'll wake Tav in a panic, because his back feels like it's on fire, he can feel every freshly-carved wound dripping blood and he's in so much pain he doesn't know what else to do. If Tav looks, they see nothing out of the ordinary - old, long-healed scars, same as always. But the pain and the fear and the distress are all very real to him, and all they can do is try to comfort him, cover his back with cool damp cloths or healing salves, remind him he's safe now and they're not leaving him.
Boundary Shifting: Sometimes, Tav can come up and hug him from behind, and he'll melt into them a little bit and go all soft and happy. Other times, he might flinch away or go rigid at the same gesture. A lot of the time, it really depends on how he's feeling on the day, but at least a little bit of it is deliberate - he's pushing to find the limit of just how much autonomy Tav is willing to give him. He wants to know at what point they'll stop respecting his "no". Will they accept it if he doesn't want a hug? If he wants to sleep in his own room tonight? At what point will understanding turn to anger at being rejected? From the drow twins four/fivesome, we also know he's got a tendency to push his own boundaries, and jump into things he's actually not ready for, and Tav would be the one holding his hand through the fallout as he tries to figure out what his own boundaries even are.
Frustration! So, so much frustration. He wants to be Over It already. He wants to move past everything that ever happened to him and never think about it again. He hates that Cazador still has a grip on him, even in death - he doesn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction of dwelling on all his punishments, his cruelties. Sometimes, that frustration is going to explode outwards at Tav - he'll get angry at them for coddling him, or find something small to start a fight over, or he'll set an unreasonable boundary and try to defend it because he's still learning what healthy boundaries look like. Sometimes, it will implode inwards, and that won't be about Tav at all, but they'll get the brunt of it all the same - it might come out as self-loathing or self-punishment, and he'll react by doing something stupid, like trying to drive them away, because having a secure, relatively healthy relationship is terrifying and the instinct is to destroy it before Tav can. There will be yelling and angry tears and deeply unhealthy coping mechanisms, and they'd have to work through that. Trauma is ugly, and Astarion is right at the beginning of a very long journey towards healing.
Abandonment Issues: Astarion wants the relationship to be one between equals, but he's kind of got Tav on a pedestal all the same. They saved him. They helped him get rid of Cazador for good. They chose him and love him despite a wealth of better (in his eyes) options, and all his baggage. They stayed with him even when he has very little to offer them. We know his vanity and obnoxious self-absorption is a fragile attempt to obscure the fact that his self-esteem is in the dirt and he has virtually no self-worth, and there are a couple of occasions in-game where it becomes clear that he's afraid of losing the one person who somehow considers him lovable. After seeing Sebastian and all the other conquests, he begs Tav not to hate him, saying that he did what he had to. If he has a rival for Tav's affections, and Tav informs him that they broke up with the rival to be with Astarion, he's shocked and the first thing out of his mouth is, "You ended things with them for me? Why?" And if Durge tries to break up with him for his own safety, his facade drops and he immediately asks if he did something wrong. So while he's not afraid to argue with Tav, if something happens - like an angry outburst - that upsets or angers them, and he thinks he's at risk of losing that one steady, stable person in his life, he might well cling and overcompensate to try and repair what he thinks is a fracture in their relationship. He'll fawn or beg or crawl into Tav's bed to "apologise" and "make it up to them" because, well, very occasionally it worked on Cazador. With patience and good communication and lots of repeatedly driving the lesson home to overcome 200 years of education to the contrary, he will eventually start to believe that "I'm really pissed off at you right now," does not equate to, "You are the worst mistake I've ever made and I am leaving you."
Panic Attacks: I feel like honestly he'd get some symptoms of these on a fairly regular basis, but he's never been given any option other than just trying to power through them. He's used to realising he's shaking, he's used to feeling like he's watching himself from outside his body, or like he can't breathe even though he doesn't need to. He's very familiar with the sickening fear in his gut, so intense it makes his head spin. He's not used to being comforted or reassured about them - he thinks they're normal. Tav disagrees.
Anyway, cptsd is messy and complicated and often looks very different from person to person so these will not represent everyone's but these are just some ideas for what the ongoing recovery process might make them work through, based on the aspects I'm most familiar with.
Projecting? Who's projecting? I'm not projecting. Shut up.
#bg3#bg3 headcanons#bg3 meta#astarion x tav#astarion x durge#mom said it's my turn to project on the blorbo#astarion ancunin
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into the arms of another part three | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x reader
part one part two masterlist tips
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yourusername: working up a storm and flirting up a frenzy
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user3: SHE'S BACK
user4: that month she was gone was dragging
user5: i almost forget she has a job lol there's always so much drama i forgot girly was getting the bag
danielricciardo: oh what a lovely picture of you two being gross at dinner i wonder who took it
yourusername: it's this lovely gentleman, i'll have to introduce you. he's quite loud, very charming and should consider going into theatre with his vocal projection
danielricciardo: you think i'm ready for the stage?
maxverstappen1: i think we all think you're ready for the stage
user6: wait so do you think daniel, heidi, y/n and max go on double dates? that's so cute
user7: sometimes i hurt myself by thinking it could've been a triple date if charles wasn't such as ass
maxverstappen1: when she's a triple threat 😍
yourusername: but i can't sing, dance or act?
maxverstappen1: but you are smart, beautiful and can put up with me :)
yourusername: you act like being with you is a chore maxy :( i'd spend all my waking moments with you if i could
landonorris: i'm sending these ^^ comments to my therapist, you guys make me feel so lonely
maxverstappen1: sorry dude
yourusername: lando !! let us play matchmaker ??
landonorris: i'll let you play matchmaker just don't let max have too much input
maxverstappen1: why not i clearly have good taste?
user8: anyone else wondering whether y/n and charles actually spoke after he was seen outside her building?
user9: i was thinking about that too ... i'm guessing they either didn't or it didn't go well by the fact that he's no where to be seen here
maxverstappen1
liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,203,500 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: new weekend, new helmet. this one was designed by the love of my life who put her architecture degree to good use to make me this beautiful lid. love you y/n hope to bring you a trophy back in return 🧡
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user13: max being the resident grid sweetheart was not on my 2023 bingo card
yourusername: no worries max, it was an absolute honour to design a helmet for you.
maxverstappen1: it's an honour to wear something designed by you
yourusername: call me the adrian newey of helmet design
maxverstappen1: that's a big shout, that i'm inclined to believe
redbullracing: adrian gives his stamp of approval y/n !
user14: i swear in an older charles vlog y/n spoke about how she always wanted to design a helmet for him :( i'm glad she finally got to do it
user15: no shade but at least this helmet might actually win the race lol
danielricciardo: cute lid, is y/n open for commission?
maxverstappen1: nope she's mine and mine only (unless you're paying)
yourusername: what he said
user16: i just know charles is screaming, crying and throwing up rn
user17: probably not, people stop being friends all the time, he's got more than one friend and is a millionaire, he's living his best life
user16: his track record says otherwise, he's extremely petty, he probably can't handle that max and y/n don't care about him anymore
user18: tbf from what we saw charles was looking to reconcile, it's more y/n who has been unreasonable
user19: i think she's well within her rights to refuse forgiveness and from reports charles never apologised, this has been a pattern of behaviour for years now. she deserved better, she's now got better
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user20: i love that max likes all the shady comments about the situation cause i know y/n would never
charles_leclerc
liked by arthurleclerc, carlossainz55 and 908,344 others
charles_leclerc: always make time for your real friends.
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user21: if there's one thing men will have, it's the audacity
user22: well this is an interesting response
user23: are we meant to clap?
arthurleclerc: what happened to the plan?
charles_leclerc: than plan failed in the minute she closed the door in my face
arthurleclerc: call me, but also stop making excuses
user24: yes it is logical to do this offline arthur, but consider this, i want to read the drama
user25: but at this point how is it drama? it's just charles being stubborn. y/n gave him a full explanation and by the look of it he didn't do a very good job with it
user26: the thing is i honestly believe that however bad the apology would be y/n would still forgive him. they've been friends for so long i think she honestly wants it to work out but shit like this does not help his case
carlossainz55: mate i am so confused
charles_leclerc: what's so confusing? she can say that this has led to her finding "the real thing" but i can't?
carlossainz55: but if you wanted to reconcile, you look like an asshole
charles_leclerc: fine, make me the bad guy like everyone else
user27: charles is really in his whiny boy era lord
user28: all i know is that y/n and max are probably at home having the laugh of their lives
f1wagsupdates
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f1wagupdates: y/n y/ln was in the red bull garage this weekend with verstappen's family. max won this race wearing the helmet she designed for him.
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user31: they are the cutest couple on the grid, perhaps of all time
user32: they're defo on the way to that, if they get married could defo grab best couple of all time
user33: the way she still stopped at ferrari to talk to arthur and wish him and charles luck ... clearly there's a bigger person here
user34: y/n is already so close to the verstappens, her and sophie and victoria were together all weekend.
user35: my friend had a paddock pass and overheard sophie asking y/n when she'll be giving her more grandkids
user36: OMG WHAT? what did y/n say?
user35: that she'd have to be mrs. verstappen first
user37: do not play with me right now if we get the charles and y/n friend breakup and y/n and max engagement all in one season my brain may explode
user38: if max weren't winning every race anyway i'd defo say that this is the lucky helmet
user39: i mean grand slams aren't that common, so maybe it is
user40: max win and charles disasterclass, the best weekend possible for y/n
user41: i don't think she actually wants charles to do badly though, she wouldn't have wished him luck..
maxverstappen1
liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,405,649 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: i've won a lot of races this year but my biggest win of all was your heart. here's to forever together ❤️
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user42: i think i just saw charles drop to his knees in monaco
user43: i mean they can still be friends? there was never any romantic feelings he's just being weird about being in the wrong and it being max
danielricciardo: i'm so so happy for you guys, you deserve this so much. all the happiness to you, i shall assume my position as best man effective immediately
maxverstappen1: bit forward to assume that you're best man mate
danielricciardo: wait, i'm not best man ?
maxverstappen1: i joke, you are, of course, the best man and i can't think of a better man for the job
yourusername: just don't go too crazy with the stag night, i've heard about your nights out back in the day (seen the videos too)
danielricciardo: i don't know what you're talking about, we'll have a boys night in, a round of uno and he'll be ready at the altar right on time
user44: why am i actually so happy for people i don't even know
yourusername: i can't think of a better way to spend the rest of my life, red bull drive babysitter and cat mama
maxverstappen1: i think jimmy and sassy might just be as excited as me (maybe)
yourusername: i know i can tell by all the holes in my shoes
maxverstappen1: we all have our ways of showing love, some bites holes in shoes, some like to follow you everywhere
landonorris: the way max could be either one
maxverstappen1: ummm i'm trying to be romantic stop accusing me of biting my fiancee's shoes
yourusername: don't worry maxy, i'd still marry you even if you bite my shoes
user45: this is an amazing thing and not to bring the mood down, but do we think y/n will invite charles to the wedding?
user46: max could as well, they are friends, even if charles is trying to use their rivalry as a 'reason' to be angry at this relationship
yourusername
liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 1,206,782 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: i am lost for words. i never knew i could love someone as much as i love you, and it is my biggest honour to spend the rest of my life with you.
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user47: she has really won at life i'm so happy for her
user48: who knew being ditched in corsica would be so good for a girl
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maxverstappen1: i love you more than you could ever know, couldn't think of a better mrs. verstappen-y/ln
yourusername: i can't wait to have matching last names
user49: wait is max also going to take y/n's name?
maxverstappen1: yep and couldn't be prouder to have her name
yourusername: awww maxy i love you
user50: so... did charles get an invite?
charles_leclerc: no. so much for moving forward.
yourusername: i won't let you ruin this announcement for me. let the postal service do their job. please get your shit together before you rsvp or fuck off, i have no problem burning that invite.
user51: oof.
landonorris: congrats guys, do me and daniel get a prize for listening to the years of pining that led to this
yourusername: you can get a gold star?
landonorris: make it solid gold and done.
yourusername: girl.
maxverstappen1: if red bull ask whether we drank on this getaway say no
yourusername: we defo didn't spray champagne like we were on a podium and then eat our weight in pasta
maxverstappen1: i had to celebrate my girl :)
note: hiiiii, i know this was highly, highly requested and i hope this has met expectations. i've had real bad writers block and some shit going on in my personal life, so i'm not the happiest with this but could see another part if i get enough ideas lol. thanks for reading <3
#f1#f1 x you#f1 instagram au#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#max verstappen x you#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen instagram au#max verstappen
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Not Quite Home
Kinktember Day 15: Stand & Carry
Kepler Youngeun x male reader smut
words: 1,495 Kinktember Masterlist
She is everything you're not. Everything you hate. How can someone refuse to have a place to call home?
All this about being a free spirit and experiencing everything that the world has to offer all sounds well and good but how is a tree supposed to grow if it has no roots? But Youngeun insists that is exactly what she is after, the constant thrill, the constant novelty, the rush and urgency. In every interaction, she seems to have been in search of the next big adventure.
And you think you do her a disservice by not understanding.
Perhaps if you had met each other under other circumstances, things might have gone better for the two of you. But now, you resent how she feels like a stranger whenever you're together. She once brought an element of excitement and risk to a routine, drab life, but that grew exhausting and more than once made you feel like you were suffocating. You grew to loathe her carelessness.
"Your parents?" You ask as she stands in your bedroom for the third night in a row, "Have you even told them you're back in town?"
She shakes her head in lieu of an answer, "You know how they are."
"You're going to blame them for wanting their daughter to visit for once?"
Youngeun laughs. It's one of your least favourite traits—her incapability to take anything seriously. "Not your business. Besides, seven nights, remember?"
Yes. Seven nights. This is what she told you, another expiry date on another chapter of whatever the fuck this is between you. Another unspoken contract was signed for the hell of it. A time limit, for something that isn't even real.
"Just think about it," you continue, hopelessly, "talking with your family. It'll clear your mind."
"Know what clears my mind? The wind in my hair, sun on my skin, music in my ears," Youngeun runs her hand through her silky hair, "Landing in some new town, finding a new local hang out to try something exotic and then exploring whatever is hidden in that town's history, picking up a new person, hooking up with them, letting the excitement course through my veins, knowing there's always something else waiting on the horizon."
Another insufferable thing that she does. It's been maybe fifteen minutes since you tangled limbs in the bed and now she's standing across the room naked making no secret of the fact that she picks up guys and girls wherever she goes. Youngeun looks down at you on the mattress and runs her eyes up and down your body, her fingers resting lightly over her collarbone.
You follow the line of her fingers, nails cut short with traces of peeled black nail paint. A callus on her finger is a reminder of how often she played the guitar. She runs them down her chest, thumb catching a nipple in the process of doing so.
"Look at you. You get hotter every time I come back." And just like that, Youngeun drops a compliment, casual and effortless and you question who's benefiting from this relationship because it clearly isn't you.
You're gonna fuck her again tonight. Tomorrow too, and another three nights after that. After which she'll be gone for another six months to a year. There's a weird emotional emptiness to this routine—you give and she takes and this is all she asks.
"Come here, will you? Pin me to this wall already. Make me feel you." Her hand cups her breast and another traces its way down her abs, a clear intention.
You should hate her, really. Like how you hate the idea that she left home for no reason or how she wasted her potential, hate her for her indifference, for her recklessness and her cold detachment, or hate the fact that it's just meaningless sex.
She doesn't like strings, it makes no sense to her how people commit. If she was the type of person who asked to be understood, you would probably try to, but that's never something she ever expressed.
For all of that, you don't hate her. It's why you're still walking towards her and she's backing up into the wall.
So, what does she ask for? Her answer is pleasure and pain.
She kisses like a raging fire. Everywhere her hands roam leaves marks on your skin; she scratches deep in your back as you hook her thigh up around your waist. A hand between her legs, sliding in without any sort of preamble. She's still dripping wet, though some of that may well be your last load. She tastes of salty, sweaty sex and you relish it. She kisses and she gasps as your fingers work at her entrance; crooking them upward so you can press them into her and rub right against the sensitive spot inside her.
Her tongue slides past yours, hot and wet as she grinds up into your hand, claws digging into your lower back. Your hand fucks into her roughly with reckless abandon and her breathing gets shallow as your fingers bring her closer and closer.
It doesn't take long, she's close, you know that when she throws her head back against the wall. "Stop—wait, fuck—wait," Youngeun barely gasps and then with your name in her throat, the friction of your fingers sends her over the edge. A moan escapes as her mouth falls open, eyes clamp shut as you finger her to orgasm.
It's always been easy to make Youngeun cum, but it never loses its magic. There's something particularly thrilling to the way she moans your name in that honey-laced rasp, to the way her entire body arches upwards as the pleasure mounts. A sharp gasp cuts the air.
Her limbs slacken. She leans her head against the wall. She's struggling to catch her breath.
And this is the fucking problem. For every reason to hate her, there are so many more reasons to enjoy her.
That's when you lift her, hooking up the other thigh and holding her by her tight little ass. Youngeun hisses and she's staring daggers and that's always a part of the fun. She'll give you these looks that could kill a lesser man, but you know the only solution is to pound her into submission.
"Be rough with me. Hard," Youngeun pants, sucking air in, breath ragged. Her skin's hot to the touch.
"Like last time?" Your voice comes low, thick and gruff as you hook her legs higher.
"No, harder, faster," Youngeun replies between rapid, short breaths, she grips your arms, rolls her hips and wraps her body tighter around you, "Want me to stay? Fuck me until I can't walk out."
You're incensed and sliding your length over her slick, warm, inviting heat, before slamming her back into the wall, entering her in one long hard motion and enjoying the way her lips fall apart; enjoying the way her hot and messy, fucked-out body arches upward as you hit deeper and the way her cries pitch. You don't even wait for her to catch her breath before snapping your hips over and over and giving Youngeun exactly the type of pounding that she wants.
There's a sharp gasp. A second of silence and then a choked-back scream. You feel a palm on the nape of your neck and a sting on your shoulders as her nails dig deep and scratch. She rakes them over the broad expanse of your upper back and it fucking hurts. It fucking stings and it's delicious. You bury yourself deep inside her, stretch and fuck her all open on your dick.
"Like that. Yes! Like that! Fucking ruin me."
"Since you asked so nicely."
Her moans become a struggle now that you've run a hand roughly up her body and planted it around her neck. Squeezing, not too hard, not to cut her airflow, not to bruise, but firmly enough that she will feel it and feel that she is being held. She loves to feel hopeless. And there, that's what you like: her hot, sweaty body locked between you and the wall and helpless against you as you sink into her.
And as much as she says it doesn't mean anything. Youngeun cries out your name like it means something.
The ever-familiar suffocating grip of her wet cunt grips you as she cums again. Bodies flushed together, grinding and sweaty.
"I can't breathe—" Youngeun whimpers in that cracked, vulnerable and submissive way and you snarl. Fuck her up as promised. Hurt her like she begs for. And Youngeun loves it like nothing else, absolutely nothing, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and a strangled groan as you reach another climax and fill up her pussy again. You pound yet another load into her tight hole.
As much as she would hate to ever admit it, this is as close to a home as she has in her life.
#kinktember#kpop smut#youngeun smut#kepler smut#kpop fanfic#male reader#m reader#smut#youngeun x reader#standandcarry#kep1er smut
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The training gym was quiet, save for the soft shuffle of weights being moved and the clink of metal on metal. Ushijima Wakatoshi, one of the top volleyball players in Japan, stood in his usual spot by the weights, focused and unbothered by the few people around. But today, his gaze kept drifting to the other side of the gym, where you sat, scribbling on your clipboard.
You were his team’s nutritionist, a dedicated professional who made sure each player was at their peak, fueled by carefully balanced diets and supplements. When you first joined the team, Ushijima saw you as just another staff member, albeit a knowledgeable one who knew her work. But as weeks turned into months, he found himself looking forward to your sessions, trying to pick up more conversations here and there. For a man who often kept to himself, that was something new.
“Ushijima,” your voice broke through his thoughts, and he quickly blinked, hoping his face didn’t betray the fact he’d been staring. You approached him, clipboard in hand, with that gentle smile you always wore.
“Your new meal plan,” you said, handing over the clipboard. He took it, careful not to brush your fingers, even though part of him almost wanted to. “I added more protein for recovery, but we’ll balance it out with lighter carbs on rest days to keep your energy consistent.”
He nodded, studying the paper in his hands. You were thorough, down to the gram. He admired that about you, the way you always seemed to care about every small detail.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice as steady as ever. Though he could command a volleyball court with his booming spikes, words like this made him feel less sure of himself. “You’re very…good at this.”
You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by his comment. “I’d hope so. I spent years in school to do exactly this.”
He found himself mirroring your smile, however faintly, and his heart raced at the way your eyes lit up. The usual seriousness in him softened whenever you were around, a fact he hadn’t yet worked out how to handle. He thought about what his teammates would say if they knew the Ushijima Wakatoshi was nervous around someone.
“Do you have a favorite food?” he asked suddenly, the question slipping out before he had a chance to think.
Your eyes widened slightly. “Me? Oh, um… probably curry. Why?”
“I wanted to know,” he answered simply. “It’s… good to know what my nutritionist likes to eat.”
A laugh bubbled out of you, a soft sound that made him feel a strange warmth. “Well, thanks, I suppose. Maybe one day, you’ll let me cook for you.”
He blinked. “You would cook for me?”
“Why not? I mean, I’m already telling you what to eat,” you teased, giving his shoulder a playful nudge. “Might as well let you taste the real thing.”
He looked down at you, feeling his cheeks heat up slightly. “I… would like that.”
It was a simple answer, yet it felt like the beginning of something much more. He watched as you smiled, returning to your notes with that same focus, and he silently resolved to make that day come sooner than later.
As you walked away, Ushijima couldn’t help but think, for once, he had something more exciting than volleyball waiting for him.
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#ushijima wakatoshi#ushijima x reader#wakatoshi x reader#ushijima wakatoshi x reader
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19Oct24
No matter how mad the word made us, It always held hope — a “hiatus.”
I’m sad for so many reasons — the fundamental sadness of death, and at such a young age; having to process the mortality of someone so extraordinary it seems they should transcend a fate as ordinary as dying; aching for his family and friends; angry that he had to navigate such a cruel world, one that continues to disrespect him in death. Yes, Liam was damaged and in turn damaged others; he had demons to face and amends to make — I like to think he would have, given a chance. His talent was so immense, and there was so much more to come. I believe he would have found a way to redemption, and then had such a beautiful renaissance.
The joy of being a 1D fan has always been policed and mocked. We’ve so frequently been laughed at, dismissed for the intensity of our love for the band. And now, the world wants to do the same with our grief, questioning its legitimacy, trivializing our feelings. But this loss is real. And this grief is valid.
And the grief of losing Liam is compounded by the grief of losing so much else. He wasn’t just a celebrity. They weren’t just a boyband. He was an integral part of an integral part of our formative years — no matter how old we were when we found them. So many of us are the people we are in part because of the people they are. Were. We’ve lost a beloved one, we’ve lost innocence, we’ve lost inspiration, we’ve lost a piece of our foundation.
We’ve lost hope.
It used to frustrate me, in retrospect, that they called it a “hiatus.” It felt dishonest — like a gentle lie to let us down easy. Why couldn’t they just say it was over? That being a boy band has a built-in shelf life, and it was time to explore solo careers. But now I understand the kindness in that word. For hope springs eternal, and it didn’t matter if it never came. All that matters was that it might. And “hiatus” wasn’t just for us; it held their optimism too. Especially Liam’s. It left the door open, even if only a crack, for the possibility of something more.
It’s been a remarkable gift to watch each one find his own path and his own voice. But when they announced a hiatus in 2015, they planted a seed of hope that someday we’d see the unrivaled magic of those boys on stage together again — the greatest team the world has ever seen. Maybe Zayn would join, probably not. Maybe it would’ve been a one-off thing for charity or a special anniversary. Maybe it would be in their 50s when the allure of easy money from a reunion tour was too tempting to resist. But surely, eventually, 1D would reunite in some capacity. I was excited to see how their once frenetic energy and youthful antics would meld with the mature solo artists they’ve become.
That hope sustained us through 18 months and eventually eight years, but now the hiatus is over. I would have happily clowned for every remaining day of my life than know this new certainty brought by the finality of Liam’s death. Maybe, someday, there will be a memorial performance. Maybe we’ll see three or four out of five come together to honor him — and what a poignant testament it will be that Liam was what could bring them together. Or maybe it will never feel right to them to take the stage without him, and that, too, will make all the sense in the world.
I wish I had an uplifting ending for this post. I don’t. I wake up and my first thought is “Liam isn’t here anymore,” and then I go about my day with that relentless realization lurking around the corner of every mundane task I do.
I haven’t been able to listen to their music yet. It’s a cruel trick that the thing that always brought comfort is now a trigger for grief. But I hope that will soon change. That, at some point, I’ll put on WMYB, get choked up at “You’re insecure” and second-guess my readiness. But then jump to History, and find solace in the lyrics that are currently rattling around my brain but aren’t ready to be heard yet: “This is not the end, this is not the end” … “We can live forever.”
❯❯❯❯
#rest in peace liam#liam payne#tw liam's death#trying to process the sad thoughts#don't read if your own sad thoughts are too much atm#i've moved from shock to sorrow and now to denial#none of it feels real#tw death
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One Night - part 1 || Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze x Reader
Summary: When you complete a dream transfer to Barcelona, there’s only one problem - you have to learn to coexist with your ex-hookup and her new girlfriend.
Warnings: 🔞 | no actual smut in this chapter but contains references to sex and this is just setup for several parts of pure filth
Word count: 5.4k
It takes you all of about ten seconds on your first day at Barcelona to realise that Ona Batlle and Lucy Bronze are dating.
Strangely, it’s not Lucy who gives it away, but instead the young Spaniard.
You don’t actually know Ona beyond the distant professionalism of two people who have played against each other a handful of times over the years. Lucy, however, is somebody you’re more than acquainted with. Intimately so.
You started sleeping with Lucy a few years ago, during her first spell at City. Lucy was charming, hot and available and you were … well, you were young and horny. It was a mutually convenient agreement until she moved to France and you to Germany, when it became obvious within just a few months that a casual situationship was much harder to nurture when you lived in different countries. That’s when it fell apart, heated words fired from both sides then radio silence as if you’d never even known each other.
You knew you’d have to face up to your past when you signed for Barcelona. Lucy’s been here for a year already, but you don’t say no to a club like Barça, not even when you’ve got history with one of their star defenders.
All you can do when you show up for your first day is hope that you’ve both matured enough to be professional about it.
“I’d heard a rumour you might be coming here.”
Of course you find yourself alone with her in the dressing room pretty much straight away, fresh out of your signing photoshoot. The soft fabric of the blaugrana Barcelona kit feels good against your skin, but you feel anything but comfortable alone with Lucy.
“Back on the same team, huh?” you reply stiffly. “Who’d have thought it?”
“The best team,” Lucy brags.
You’re saved from having to make any more awkward smalltalk with Lucy as the door to the dressing room clatters open.
“Lucy, you left your trainers in the-”
The newcomer, Ona Batlle, stops mid sentence when she notices you, forgetting whatever she was saying so that she can instead greet you with a dazzling smile that knocks the air out of your lungs.
She’s pretty. You’re sure that you must have already known this, you just haven’t had time to properly appreciate it, not when you were playing against her and focused on other things.
“Hi. I’m Ona,” she greets you, letting you introduce yourself in return before she turns her attention back to Lucy. “You left these in the gym. If I’d known I’d be tidying up after you, I’d have stayed in Manchester.”
And that’s when you realise that there’s more to the relationship between Ona and Lucy than just being new teammates. It’s a mixture of things that gives it away, the affectionate tone of Ona’s voice, the familiarity with which she teases Lucy, but mostly the look of absolute adoration in Ona’s eyes as Lucy takes the shoes off her. It’s a look that you recognise, because there was once a time when you probably looked at Lucy with that same expression.
If there was any doubt in your mind, what Ona says next is the final nail in the coffin.
“We should stop for groceries on the way home by the way,” Ona says to Lucy. “We don’t have anything for dinner.”
Home. So it’s serious enough that they’re living together, she’s not just another one of Lucy’s flings.
You were never that serious with Lucy. Aside from occasionally carpooling to training the next day if one of you accidentally fell asleep at the other’s post-hookup, you never reached this level of domesticity.
Lucy mumbles something in agreement, tucking her trainers into the cubby behind her, and soon enough Ona is gone as quickly as she arrived.
Left alone with Lucy again, the atmosphere somehow even more tense than before, the first thing that spills from your lips before you have time to think twice is a joke.
“Bit young for you, isn’t she Luce?”
“I don’t know what you…” Lucy trails off and sighs, probably realising that there’s no point trying to deny anything when you’re going to be sharing a dressing room with her and her new beau and will inevitably learn the truth anyway. “Look, I really like her, okay? It’s real.”
You ignore the heavy implications of Lucy’s words, that what she shared with you all those years ago wasn’t real, for the sake of the harmony of the team you’ve just joined.
“I’m happy for you,” you tell Lucy, not entirely untruthful. You never thought that Lucy would be partnered up when you joined Barcelona, but you definitely didn’t expect any of your old history to be reignited either. It’s been long enough that Lucy is just another teammate, someone you can learn to get along with.
…
You do get along with Lucy, in a kind of amicable yet emotionless way that almost feels like you’ve never played on the same team before, let alone slept together on and off for over a year in your early twenties. It’s purely professional, cordial without getting too close to friendly.
You’re relieved, of course. The last time you encountered Lucy was an international match a couple of years ago, an evening which started with heavy tackles and the two of you earning a yellow card apiece on the pitch and ended with Lucy on her knees between your legs in an empty medical room after the game. It was the last time you saw Lucy, the last time you slept with her, the last time you even spoke to her until you moved to Barcelona.
So you’re glad that you can get along with her, even if you’re still trying to wrap your head around how normal it is to be teammates again after everything.
But somebody you really start to get along with is Ona.
It turns out you have more in common with Ona than just being new signings and finding Lucy Bronze attractive. You bond quickly at training and soon you’re hanging out outside of the training ground, grabbing coffee a couple of times a week and letting Ona show you around the city that has become your new home. Lucy gets invited along once or twice but always manages to find an excuse not to join you - whether Ona knows about your history with Lucy isn’t clear to you and you decide it’s not your place to be the one to tell her.
And that’s how you become good friends with your ex-hookup’s new girlfriend.
You quickly realise exactly what Lucy sees in Ona.
She’s got a personality that matches the Barcelona sunshine, a smile that would charm anybody, and eyes that are so big and perfect you’re not entirely convinced that she wasn’t hand-drawn by a cartoonist.
It’s not a crush, you tell yourself. That would be inappropriate in all sorts of ways. It’s just an appreciation.
One that only grows as the season progresses.
Ona does your hair before a game, putting it into a braid that matches her own, and it quickly becomes a pre-match tradition. You sit on the floor between Ona’s legs while her deft fingers work your scalp and pull strands of hair this way and that and can you really be blamed for the direction your traitorous thoughts threaten to move, especially not when Ona was standing beside you in nothing but a tiny pair of shorts and a sports bra mere moments ago? Now you’re thinking about her abs and her fingers.
She taps your shoulder when she’s done, letting you know that you can stand up, and you make eye contact with Lucy across the dressing room as you get to your feet. Her gaze is intense, not jealous or angry that you’ve become so close to her girlfriend, but there’s something in those familiar eyes that you just can’t place.
Focused on the match ahead, you store that information in the back of your mind for later, but end up forgetting about it altogether.
…
There’s some kind of mix-up in communication that means that Lucy has joined you for one of your usual outings for coffee with Ona. You try to excuse your way out of it, claiming that you don’t want to third-wheel their date, but Ona is too nice and jokes that it’s actually Lucy who is the third wheel, before saying that you can’t back out now.
So that’s how you end up sitting at a table on a terrace outside a quaint little cafe with Lucy. Ona goes inside, having insisted that she’ll buy the coffees, despite your protests that she paid last time and it’s your turn.
“You’ve got a good one there, Luce.”
Lucy grins across at you.
“I know. Always had good taste in women, me.”
It’s … flirty? At least it feels borderline flirtatious, considering your past with Lucy. Then again, Lucy’s always been a little flirty, she just didn’t have a girlfriend the last time she turned her charm on with you all those years ago.
“I just mean, don’t fuck it up with her, that’s all,” you tell Lucy, rolling your eyes.
“You mean like I did with you?”
It’s the first time in the three months since you joined Barcelona that either of you have openly acknowledged what you used to have and you don’t really know how to react. Your policy since joining Barcelona has been to pretend that you and Lucy were never a thing. That’s a lot harder to do when Lucy is reminding you that you were.
“It wasn’t just you who fucked it up,” you reply, avoiding eye contact with Lucy out of fear that looking at her might bring up old attraction. “Anyway, that was different, it wasn’t like what you have with Ona.”
Lucy hums, then says, “Maybe it could’ve been the same. If we hadn’t been so dumb and immature.”
There’s much less room to misinterpret Lucy’s words this time. Here is Lucy, pretty much admitting that she wishes things had gotten more serious with you when she had the chance, while her actual girlfriend, the same person who has been nothing but welcoming and an all round great friend to you since you joined Barcelona, is at the counter inside the coffee shop.
“We were around the same age as Ona when it started,” you point out, hoping that the mention of her girlfriend will snap Lucy back into a reality where she doesn’t feel the need to reminisce over your past.
“Ona…” Lucy glances at Ona through the coffee shop window and her expression softens. “Ona’s got a wise head on her. Plus she’s a hopeless romantic. She’s been all-in since the start. Probably knocked a bit of sense into me too, along the way.”
They’re disgustingly in love with each other and it’s enough to squash any butterflies in your own stomach.
“Like I said, I’m glad you’ve found each other.”
The conversation finishes there as Ona returns with the coffees, setting the tray on the table carefully and passing the drinks around.
“Thanks, Ona. You know, I might steal you away from Lucy if you keep fuelling my caffeine addiction like this.”
You say it as if having a little flirt with Ona somehow makes up for whatever traitorous thoughts you were having about Lucy before Ona returned to the table, but at least the smile that spreads across Ona’s face at your words is enough to smother some of your guilt.
“It’s good to keep Lucy on her toes,” Ona says, raising her eyebrows at you like she’s letting you in on an inside joke. “And she’s always saying how much she likes a competition.”
Lucy stirs her own coffee, then sets her spoon down as she leans back casually in her chair as if completely unbothered by the thought of having to fight you for Ona’s attention.
“Yeah,” she says with a shrug. “And I always win.”
…
You’ve always liked away games. Especially now, in a new league. New teams to play against, new cities to visit. And you quickly get used to the expectations that Barça has for its players on away trips.
The main one is the rooming rules. Couples don’t share, you learn that quickly, and also notice that everybody seems to accept that rule. You’ve been on teams before where that’s been an official rule, but teammates have made arrangements between themselves to trade with each other to share with their partner instead. That’s not the case at Barcelona.
The other thing is that while there are some players who mostly seem to always share with each other, there seems to be a deliberate effort to rotate room pairings for the newer signings as they integrate with their new teammates. You’re with Esmee for the first trip, which is a relief to you both as neither of you speaks a word of Spanish yet, then with Ingrid who is just as friendly, having been a new signing herself only a couple of years ago.
You never share with Lucy. Part of you wonders if she’s put in a deliberate request to whoever organises the hotels that sharing with you is just as off-limits to her as sharing with Ona would be, but you’re grateful for it. Though it’s no longer as weird between you, sharing a room with her seems like a step too far right now.
It takes four months at Barça before you room with Ona for the first time, for two nights on a Champions League away fixture in Sweden. The first night is quiet and focused, you talk through some of the tactics from the earlier training session together before getting an early night.
But the second night, after winning the game, there’s a knock on the door when you’re getting ready for bed.
You probably shouldn’t be surprised when you open the door and find Lucy standing outside, given that she’s your roommate’s girlfriend, but you forget that for a moment until Lucy speaks.
“Hey. Is Ona here? Just wanted to say goodnight.”
You blink yourself out of your surprise, then gesture at the closed door to the en-suite bathroom.
“She’s just in there.”
“Can I wait?” Lucy asks.
You hesitate for just a moment, then step aside to let her in.
“Sure.”
Lucy enters the room and you close the door behind her. When you turn around, she’s taken a seat on the end of your bed.
“Uh, that‘s Ona’s bed,” you tell her, pointing at the other bed.
“Oh. Shit, sorry.”
Lucy moves to the other bed, but still sits on it just as awkwardly as she sat on yours. Though it’s mostly normal between you and Lucy these days, when it’s just the two of you, you sometimes remember the way things used to be.
And then you remember that it’s not like that anymore.
“Remember when we used to sneak into each other’s rooms at City?” Lucy asks, with a low chuckle. Apparently she’s reminiscing over the past too.
You glance towards the bathroom, wondering if Lucy is really trying to remind you of the late night trysts you used to have at away games while her actual girlfriend is on the other side of the door.
“Is that your way of hinting at me to piss off and leave you alone with your girlfriend?” you ask her drily, arching an eyebrow as you plug your phone in to charge on the nightstand.
“Nah, it’s against the rules, innit.”
“It was against the rules at City too,” you remind her.
“Yeah, but that’s what made it exciting.” Lucy’s green eyes are alight with mischief, and your stomach does a little flip as you remember the thrill of trying to hook up with Lucy at any available moment without getting caught by teammates or coaches.
And then you feel guilty. Because this is another conversation with Lucy that borders on flirtatious, another split second where you forget she’s in a relationship and are transported right back to when she used to want you.
Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, the bathroom lock clicks and the door swings open. Something shifts in the air between you and Lucy as Ona steps out, hair falling in pretty waves over her shoulders. Her brown eyes light up with pure joy and adoration when she spots Lucy sitting on her bed.
“You’re not supposed to be in here,” Ona teases Lucy.
“I’m not staying,” replies Lucy. “Just wanted to drop by and say goodnight.”
An uneasy feeling settles in your stomach and you’re not sure if it’s because they’re so horribly in love with each other that it’s making you nauseous, or if it’s a lingering guilt that Ona has no idea you and Lucy were just talking about your heated past. Either way, you feel like you’re intruding on something you shouldn’t be here for, making a mumbled excuse about giving them a moment and take yourself into the bathroom.
It’s only when the door is locked behind you that you realise you’re now trapped in the bathroom, while they’re saying goodnight to each other in god knows what sort of way.
You press your ear to the door, then jerk away as if the wood is scalding hot when you realise what you’re doing. If they’re talking, it’s not your place to eavesdrop. And if they’re doing anything else…
Your cheeks burn hot at the idea. Surely they wouldn’t? Not while you’re in the bathroom. But they had been so enamoured by each other that you’re not even sure if they noticed you slip away.
You think back to your situationship with Lucy all those years ago. She always had an incredible knack for getting you naked in record time and somehow, you really doubt that she’s lost any of that charm since then.
What if they get carried away with their goodnight wishes and you’re stuck in here all night?
You don’t know how long you’re left wallowing in your own anguish in the bathroom, it could be anywhere from three minutes to three days, but eventually there’s a knock on the door, which is followed by Ona calling your name. You flick the lock then open the door, relieved to find Ona still fully dressed in her pyjamas and now alone in the room again.
“You okay?” she asks. “You were quiet in there. Not that I was listening! Just that you were in there a while and … and I didn’t hear the toilet flush or anything.”
Ona is exceptionally cute when she’s flustered.
“I just didn’t want to get in you and Lucy’s way.”
For just a second, Ona looks like she wants to say something, but she holds it back and the moment passes. Soon you’re each lying in your own bed, the lights off as you settle down for the night.
Sleep feels a whole universe away. Maybe you’re imagining it, but you think you can still smell Lucy‘s perfume lingering in the room. The air somehow feels even thicker than it did when Lucy was here. You can hear every movement from the other side of the room, every shift of the bedsheets, every breath that Ona takes, like it’s being amplified through a speaker.
“I know about you and Lucy.” Ona’s low voice eventually penetrates the darkness. “What you used to have. Lucy told me a while ago.”
That’s - well, it’s not what you’re expecting her to suddenly admit. You’re grateful that the lights are off, saving you from having to twist your expression into something neutral.
“It didn’t mean anything. It was just a bit of fun. It was never anything serious.”
You hear Ona’s chuckle rise up from the other bed.
“I know. She told me everything. I’m not jealous. That was way before I knew either of you. Anyway, it makes sense.”
“It does?” you ask.
“Yeah. I like you both. Makes sense you’d like each other too.” There’s a pause, then she adds, “Also you’re both hot.”
Not for the first time, you wonder if everything that’s happened since you joined Barcelona has been some kind of bizarre dream, because there’s no version of normal that includes your ex-hookup’s new girlfriend implying she thinks you’re attractive in the middle of the night on an away trip.
You don’t really know how you’re supposed to reply.
“Uh, thanks.”
Ona continues, “I’m telling you I know just because I’ve noticed you’re a bit weird around Lucy sometimes, so I just want you to know it’s fine with me if you two want to hang out.”
You wonder if Ona would still be fine with it if she knew that you and Lucy have almost flirted with each other twice now. Your cheeks heat up at the thought and you’re glad for the darkness that hides your flush from Ona.
“Maybe we could all hang out together sometime?” Ona suggests, oblivious to your turmoil.
“Oh, I don’t know if…”
“We could have a movie night,” Ona suggests, ignoring your attempts at declining the offer. “At our place. It’d be fun!”
It’s such a typically Ona suggestion. Because Ona is sweet and kind and of course she wants to do everything she can to make sure that her friend gets along with her girlfriend without any awkwardness. There’s not a bone in Ona’s body that would even consider the possibility of being jealous of the fact that you and Lucy used to sleep with each other.
And so in that moment, staring up at the ceiling in a hotel room in Sweden, you vow to never let yourself have a private conversation with Lucy again that’s about anything other than football, to never let Lucy flirt with you or the idea of flirting with Lucy back cross your mind, and to definitely never reminisce about Lucy when your hand is between your legs.
…
You don’t manage to talk your way out of going to Ona’s planned movie night, though if you’re completely honest, you don’t try too hard.
When you arrive at their apartment, it’s Lucy who opens the door and you have a brief moment of panic that she doesn’t actually want you here. But you’re quickly reassured by the way she steps aside to let you in and greets you with a mumbled “Alright?”
“Nice place you’ve got here,” you comment to fill the silence, as Lucy leads you through the apartment to the living room.
“Thanks.”
You sit down in the single armchair, leaving the couch for Lucy and Ona to share. There’s no sign of Ona yet and Lucy doesn’t sit down, instead hovering awkwardly by the door, glancing over her shoulder every two seconds as if looking to see if Ona is joining you.
“I know this was Ona’s idea but if it’s weird I can just go,” you pipe up, wondering if it’s really that awful for Lucy to be alone with you that she needs her girlfriend as a buffer.
“No,” Lucy says decisively. “It was both our ideas. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you too.”
Finally, to the relief of both of you, you hear bare feet pattering down the hallway from one of the other rooms and Ona appears in the doorway. She smiles warmly at Lucy, brushing her fingers against Lucy’s hand as she passes in a gesture that feels far too intimate for you to witness, then grins at you.
“Hi! You came!”
Ona sounds genuinely surprised, like she half-expected you to not turn up, and maybe you haven’t been as good as you thought you were at pretending your relationship with Lucy is one between two normal teammates if Ona was worried that you might bail on a movie night just because Lucy would be there too.
“Of course,” you say, as you try to relax back in your armchair as Lucy and Ona sit down at opposite ends of the sofa. “So, have you already picked out a movie?”
“A movie?” Lucy asks. Confusion briefly flashes across her face, but then it settles into realisation as she turns to Ona and repeats, “A movie.”
A tiny smirk graces Ona’s lips as she shrugs and says, “What? You told me to get her here. You didn’t say how.”
Lucy seems equal parts annoyed and amused - about what you’re not exactly sure - as she says, “I thought you’d do some of the explaining instead of leaving it all to me.”
It’s your turn to be confused.
“So we’re not watching a movie then?” you ask slowly, your eyes flitting between the two of them as you wait for an answer.
Silence hangs between the three of you, Lucy and Ona apparently both waiting for the other to say something, before Lucy rolls her eyes and takes control.
“Listen, here’s the deal,” she starts to explain, leaning forwards slightly in her seat. “I told Ona about our past as soon as you signed for Barça and she found it pretty amusing. Soon she was asking more questions about … well, about you and us, I’m sure you get the picture.”
Still trying to figure out what this has got to do with a movie night, you say, “I don’t think I do.”
Lucy lets out a groan.
“Jesus, am I gonna have to spell it out? She wanted to know what it was like to ‘be with you’ -” Lucy throws up some exaggerated air quotes with her hands, rolling her eyes again along with her words. “So I told her. Well, actually I told her that if she wanted to know what it was like then she should just sleep with you herself. Was joking, of course, but it turns out Ona’s really into that idea, actually.”
Your eyes flicker across to Ona, whose cheeks are tinged a pretty shade of pink and eyes are wide with a mixture of worry and expectation as she waits for your response.
Turning back to Lucy, you ask, “So you’ve invited me over to fuck your girlfriend?”
Lucy nods.
“Well, both of us, if you’re up for it. We figured you and me already had that chemistry and I know you fancy Ona, judging by how often I see you checking her out in the dressing room.”
Your mouth falls open, embarrassed that your staring has been noticed, ready to protest, but they’re both looking at you with more amusement than annoyance.
“Anyway, that’s us,” Lucy finishes. “Ball’s in your court.”
Two pairs of eyes watch you, waiting for your reaction. Lucy almost seems indifferent, settling back in her seat casually as if trying to play it cool, which almost has you wondering if you’ve imagined her just propositioning you for a threesome, if not for the way that one of her fingers taps nervously against her thigh. Ona, on the other hand, looks at you with eyes that are wide and vulnerable, as if the prospect of you turning them down might shatter her heart.
The pieces start to fit together - the tour of cute Barcelona coffee shops from Ona, the occasional flirtatious comments from Lucy. To know that they both want you is flattering. To know that they’ve been talking about this, planning how to get you into their home and their bed, is something that your mind struggles to comprehend.
“It doesn’t have to be tonight,” Ona eventually says. “If you need time to think about it?”
“No, let’s do it.”
Your words are decisive. If you give yourself too long to think about it, you’ll talk yourself out of it and you can’t deny that this is something you want. Maybe you hadn’t imagined that it would end up happening like this, with both of them, but you’ve definitely thought about them. Lucy, and the things she used to do to you, the spark you used to have that still makes the occasional appearance when you least expect it. Ona, and the way her hands feel in your hair when she braids it before a game, the way your stomach churns with butterflies whenever she smiles at you and those perfect eyes look into yours.
To have both of them at the same time is beyond your wildest fantasies.
“Go on,” Lucy says to Ona. “I know you’ve been dying to kiss her for months.”
Your heart rate picks up.
“Yeah?”
Ona counters this by shaking her head.
“Not months. Lucy’s exaggerating.”
“I’m not. She talks about you all the time. About what it’d be like to kiss you, to have you in our bed. And I told her if she was that desperate, she should just go for it. I know you like the direct approach, it worked for me all them years ago. But no. No, Ona wanted to seduce you. Why do you think she’s been taking you on all those coffee dates? She’s been trying to woo you.”
Your ego swells with the knowledge that Ona, beautiful and kind and funny as she is, who has already pretty much hit the relationship jackpot by bagging herself Lucy, has apparently spent months plotting her pursuit of you.
Not that you had any idea. Ona has always strayed onto the affectionate side of friendship whenever you’ve hung out with her. Maybe if she’d been single, you might have picked up on some clues, but you’ve known about her relationship with Lucy since you joined the team and never had any reason to think that Ona’s familiarity with you was down to anything else but the fact that she’s simply Spanish.
You explain this to them.
“I thought she was just being nice.”
Lucy chuckles to herself at this, then says, “Course you did. Sweet little Ona, welcoming you to Barça. Just wait until you find out Little Miss Perfect isn’t so innocent after all.”
If you weren’t already interested, Lucy’s words fill you with intrigue.
“Come here,” you instruct Ona.
Ona glances at Lucy, as if asking for her permission, and Lucy responds by rolling her eyes and clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.
“Don’t get shy on us now as if this wasn’t your idea in the first place.”
Ona’s cheeks are pink but she pushes up to her feet and crosses over to you. She stops awkwardly in front of you, scratching at a hangnail on her thumb until you reach for her hand and pull her closer, leaving her very little choice but to clamber into your lap.
“You’ve been planning this, huh?” you murmur to her, as if you’re the only two in the room. Your hands find her hips as she settles with a leg on either side of your thighs. “What, Lucy wasn’t enough for you?”
“She is,” Ona says. “But…”
Ona trails off, teeth chewing into her lower lip.
“But what?” You prompt her.
There’s a brief moment where time seems to stand still, except for the visible rise and fall of Ona’s chest as she breathes, then she answers, “But I wanted you too.”
Hearing Ona vocalise her desire for you gives you a rush that comes second only to scoring a goal in a cup final.
It makes you giddy. And you really don’t want to fuck it up, which is why you take a few deep breaths in time with the strokes of your hands up and down Ona’s thighs as you compose yourself before you speak again.
“All those times you took me out for coffee, all the times you translated for me in training or did my hair before a game, you were thinking about this, weren’t you? About having my hands on your body.” You lean closer until your foreheads rest against each other, hot breath mingling in the almost nonexistent gap between your mouths, then whisper, “My lips against your skin.”
Ona tilts her chin up slightly, trying to tempt you into finally closing the gap. When you don’t, she resorts to begging.
“Please.”
“What do you want?” You want to coax it out of her, committing every part of this moment to memory. “Tell me.”
“Kiss me.”
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