#it's just my style ok stop looking at me

[threebetrayals]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER. ( REPOST DO NOT REBLOG ! )

✿ NAME:    grey ✿ PRONOUNS:    they/them ✿ PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION:    discord’s always infinitely better than tumblr ims, but i actively use both ✿ NAME OF MUSE(S):    scaramouche/kunikuzushi/kabukimono/shouki no kami/wanderer wow god he’s got a lot of names for someone with literally no true name. i also have 4 other blogs of muses but i won’t list them all here lmao

✿ EXPERIENCE/HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?):    christ. uh. i’m not even sure, but it’s definitely over 10 years. we?? might even be approaching 15 at this point??? i’m fandom grandpa ok

✿ PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED:    forums, dreamwidth, little bit of discord, but i’ve always come back to the hellsite that is tumblr.

✿ BEST EXPERIENCE:    i don’t have only one, i’ve had a LOT of amazing experiences in rp over the years. discovering the tumblr rp scene with my qp partner, writing all assortment of character dynamics & relationships with said qp partner, creating two ocs entirely for the fictional world he created, meeting some really amazing people who’ve followed me across all number of blogs regardless of fandom & muse (s/o to rook, holly, & reiikon honestly, i do not Deserve), playing in some really great panfandom games back in my time on dreamwidth & getting some character friendships i never thought i needed out of them, and... most recently, losing my mind over kazu/scara with goose because that’s already like, my favourite thing to happen on this blog ok

✿ RP PET PEEVES/DEALBREAKERS:    mmm... my big dealbreakers are people who basically spam the dash with stupid levels of ooc (i’m fine with some spam!! but there is a point where i can’t handle it) or, worse, gifset after gifset after gifset. also obligatory drama mention, but i’ve been really fortunate to have avoided a lot of that sort of stuff for several years now.

✿ FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT:    i love writing all three, given the right muses & circumstances! but i’m forever a huge fuckin sucker for angst. i have a type when it comes to muses and it usually involves haunting trauma which i really love to dig into to explore them more as a character. muse/character exploration as a whole is the the biggest draw for me when it comes to rp, and i like to go DEEP.

✿ PLOTS OR MEMES:    i love a healthy mix of both!! plots are great for very specific things i want to have play out or explore, and that structure can be really nice. even just some plotted pre-established relationship before jumping into a thread goes a long way for me. memes on the other hand, i adore as well. prompts to respond to will forever be easier than writing a starter with little to nothing to go off of and honestly? i’ve discovered some interesting interactions/aspects of characters i didn’t expect through memes & memes turned into threads.

✿ LONG OR SHORT REPLIES:    not to call myself out or anything but i’m gonna go ahead and say both again. long replies will always be my top favourite because lord knows i can get really long-winded while writing. i love exploring a character’s thoughts & feelings in response to things and long replies will always be the best way to delve into those in as much depth as i like. short stuff can be good too though, given sometimes you wanna write but don’t have the energy for paragraph after paragraph lmao. plus?? there’s a lot of fun & silliness that can be had in shorter threads that i’ll never turn down.

✿ BEST TIME TO WRITE:    whenever i have the attention span. honestly though, that seems to be evenings for me, maybe with a little afternoon mixed in.

✿ ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S):    uhhh... i won’t deny that i tend to pick up muses who i can relate to in some capacity. scara... i wouldn’t say i relate to him a TON, but we do share a sort of... lostness. i used to know what i wanted too, but things fell apart, as they do, and i still feel kinda just. lost in limbo. can also relate to wanting to stomp all over your emotions, so. yeAH LMAO if i’m like him at all, it’s in small ways.

tagged by:  the best goose @rosemourne tagging:  UHM. i never know who to tag. let’s see... @florafound, @chronal-anomaly, @luckuki, @alatusatlas, @lupusmatra, & anyone who’d like to be tagged?

[koriand3r]

Willow | Spike - Clothing

“Why are you still in costume?” “Okay, still having to explain wherein this is just my outfit.”

[evergreen-endo]

worlds most irritating couple somebody separate them STAT !!!!!

[knifebaby3000]

💬

[dol--blathanna]

And then she used the bad outfits to wipe out half the universe

[lazylittledragon]

well root my toot my man I wasn’t intending to be mean

didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or nothin, just informing you of something true. you’re very skilled, you’ve got a wonderful idea of depth and how to portray a character physically and designing clothes and body language, but u can’t grow if they’ve all got the same face, my man.

I hope you have a good day, and I’ll have you know I’m getting plenty of love. no need to be stabby abt anythin

i'm still trying to find where i ASKED you.

[youremyonlyhope]

I'm not a "new musical theatre style music" person. Never have been.

Even when I was doing voice lessons, I'd steer towards the golden age or jazzy musical theatre songs. My voice teacher would have to drag me kicking and screaming towards adding anything new musical theatre to my repertoire. For a while, the most modern song in my book was I Know The Truth from Aida, and I wouldn't count that as new musical theatre style since I mean more the Pasek&Paul or Joe Iconis type.

And now I have an audition coming up for a small production of a show in that style and I'm supposed to sing a song in a similar style. And I'm looking at all my sheet music like... let me do some Cole Porter... or Gershwin... at least Sondheim please...

[padfootastic]

Saudade

You can also read it on Ao3

x

Remus knew he was a coward.

It’s why he always preferred to blend in. He couldn’t afford not to. It’s also why, to his eternal shame and regret, he’d never bothered to even question the circumstances of Sirius’s imprisonment. His betrayal.

Because he knew if he looked even slightly below the surface, it’d shatter.

(He’d shatter)

Because he wasn’t just a coward, was he. He was also helpless.

No.

Powerless.

He was powerless.

It didn’t matter if he knew Sirius was innocent, if not of the murders then definitely the betrayal (because he knew, didn't he, that Sirius Black would never—as long as he had breath in his body, magic in his veins, life in his heart—do anything to hurt James Potter. It was a fundamental truth of life. There were five exceptions to Gamp’s law of elemental transformation, the sun set in the west, and Sirius was unfailingly loyal to James. Isn’t that how it's always been?)

Because even if the truth was not what it seemed, he couldn’t do anything about it.

So he lived his lie. Didn't bother to look past the newspapers blaring the inevitability of a Black turning to the dark side. It validated his own feelings, his mistrust, his circumstances.

It was a profoundly selfish act, but it was all Remus could do.

x-x-x-x

There was…one moment when he tried, just the bare minimum, really, in hindsight but it was enough to, if not soothe, then push down the constant guilt gnawing at him.

“Mr. Lupin.” Dumbledore looked down at him through his half moon glasses. “What can I do for you?”

Remus didn’t know whether to appreciate the even tone or not. In the past month, his entire life had collapsed around him. He’d gone from being part of a whole, one of four, to completely alone. Even putting one step in front of the other was getting too much for him and on some days, he forewent even that small action. Laying in bed, contemplating his entire life and how it went so wrong in less time than it took to blink—that was all he had the energy for these days.

So to hear Professor Dumbledore refer to him like that, almost pleasantly, as if they were still back in school and Remus had just bumped into him in the corridor—it was equal parts relieving and maddening.

He chose to ignore that for now, though. He had enough going on without discovering new things to be bothered about. Not like he had the energy for it, either.

“Headmaster, I—“ Remus gulped nervously. Now that he was here, it felt much more daunting than he could have imagined. What would he even say?

“Yes?”

Remus took a shaky breath and tried again. “Professor, are you—is it completely without doubt that Sirius—“ He couldn’t finish the sentence but he knew the other man understood what he was trying to say.

“Mr. Lupin…Remus,” Dumbledore started gently, and already Remus was regretting this little excursion. “I know the past month can’t have been easy for you. I wouldn’t even presume to understand how bad it must’ve been. None of us thought that Mr. Black could…” He trailed off, eyes staring at a door behind Remus. He didn’t think he’d imagined the sadness that flashed in his eyes, a meagre reflection of his own agony.

It was only a momentary slip, though, as his eyes hardened and steel coated his next words. “But what’s done is done, despite the tragedy of it all. Mr. Black made his choice, and now it is time for you to do the same.” He gave a sad smile, a damning one that spoke of his finality in the matter. “It is always harder to be the one left behind, Mr. Lupin, and your fate is one I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy. I can only hope that you find the strength I know you have in you, and use it to move on from this episode.”

Remus could only sit there, stunned and numb and feeling like his skin was tearing itself apart from the inside, the way it did on full moons except worse.

An episode, Dumbledore said, as if he wasn’t talking about his family, his entire life. As if this was a schoolyard skirmish, an encore of that horrid ‘prank’ in fifth year, one he could forget if he so wished to. As if it was that easy to carve away the parts of himself that were entwined with the rest of his brothers (which made up most of him— mind, body, soul, and magic). As if he would even want to.

Remus didn’t try again after that, not with Dumbledore and definitely not with anyone else. If the man who was their leader seemed so sure, then who was Remus to go against his word?

(He’d never regretted anything more in his life, perhaps with the exception of the belief that caused this in the first place)

x-x-x-x

They didn’t talk about it.

At first, there was the whole thing with Pettigrew and being on the run and everything that came with it. Once that got sorted, though, there was no excuse other than it was easy.

Easy to ignore the ache in his heart when the distance between them reared it’s ugly head.

Easy to turn away when he saw the way Molly and Dumbledore treated Sirius in his own house, because isn’t that what he’d been doing so far?

Easy to stay away, altogether.

Sirius never brought it up either. Perhaps on purpose, too, because the pain in his eyes never lessened. Remus could pick out multiple instances where he opened his mouth to say something before abruptly shutting down.

That was another difference. Pre-azkaban Sirius wouldn’t have hesitated like that, not with Remus.

It only drove the knife further in. But did he have anyone to blame but himself?

It was just after Hogwarts had closed. Harry, who’d finished his fifth year, had gone back to the Dursleys but not for long because in a turn of events no one could have predicted, Sirius’ case had completely upended itself in the aftermath of the DoM debacle. Remus still didn’t like to think about it, how close he��they’d come to losing Sirius (again) and how it was only sheer dumb luck—a rock that made him stumble sideways instead of back—that saved him from falling into the Veil.

Perhaps the only positive of the evening was the Minister seeing Sirius Black fighting unequivocally for the Light and against the Death Eaters. In Remus’ opinion, it would be quite some time before anyone forgot the image of escaped inmate Sirius Black laughing at Bellatrix Lestrange in a strange parody of his actions fifteen years ago. The cold laughter juxtaposed with the deadly spells he’d been aiming at his cousin was enough to stun everyone not in the know and that was how an enquiry had been conducted into the case, leading to where they were today.

Remus, however, had spent every minute he could hiding away, even more than before. He couldn’t bear to show his face at Grimmauld Place—the idea of seeing Sirius actually sent a wave of shivers down his spine.

But, as he’d always known, his time did run out.

x-x-x-x

“So are we talking about this then?” Sirius’ voice is tired, perpetually exhausted as it seems to be these days.

They were sitting at the dining table, cups of tea long gone cold in their hands. It was the first time in months Remus has allowed himself to be in the same room as Sirius (it shouldn’t be like this. it never was before. how did it all go so wrong) and the other man wasn’t stupid. Even if Remus hadn’t initiated the conversation, he knew they’d have it. Of course it was Sirius who poked the sleeping dragon. He had always been the braver of the two. Of course, if it was a competition, then James Potter would’ve come leagues ahead of either of them, his passion and intensity unmatched.

(But James isn’t here right now and that’s really the cause of half their problems, is it not?)

Sirius was…quieter, more focused, but plenty brave enough. If Remus allowed himself to think about it, it’s no surprise he brought it up first. In fact, it’s more surprising that he hadn’t so far.

Still. “Talk about what?” he regrets the words almost as soon as they slip out of his mouth. Sirius only looks at him steadily.

Of course he knows what this is about but it’s easier to cling to what you’ve been hiding behind all this while, is it not? But is it fair, to him? More importantly, is it fair to Sirius? Does he not deserve an honest answer, an honest friend?

It’s that which pushes him to try again.

“I-I didn’t mean that.”

“Sure you did, Remus.”

“Alright,” he amended. “I shouldn’t have meant that.” And that at least is true. It gets a wry smile out of Sirius.

“There’s a lot I shouldn’t have done,” he continued, which neatly drives the mirth away. Remus looked down, at his fingers, the bitten down nails and ink stains, so he didn’t have to stare into the consequences of his actions.

‘I should—apologise.”

“Do you want to?”

His head snapped up, the sting of the comment settling under his skin like an itch. How could he think—? One look at Sirius’ face, however, devoid of any malice or cruelty, and the indignant feeling in him dies out as quickly as it rose.

It was a fair question. He hated the fact but couldn’t deny it.

How would Sirius know about the hundreds of hours he’d spent screaming and crying and begging someone, anyone to turn back time, to make things better, to give him a second chance?

Sirius couldn’t know about the time Remus hadn’t been able to get out of his house for seven months, two weeks, sixteen days straight, surviving only on dry crackers and tepid tea and stale bread and feeling guilty for doing so. He’d spent the entire time staring blankly at the sickly green wall of his bedroom, living in a haunting loop of his memories and wishing he was back in them.

Sirius hadn’t seen any of that.

(Would it have made a difference, if he had, Remus thinks. They weren’t indicative of anything but his own guilt, certainly didn’t stem from any moral conviction in Sirius—and what value did it have for someone who was being tortured day and night? living with the knowledge that he’d been left behind without so much as a second thought?)

It’s not something he’s thought about before—in those fantasies where everything is as it was before. Sirius apologises, Remus apologises, they hug it out and it’ll all be better again—but now, now he can’t help but wonder about the efficacy of platitudes.

He hated Sirius’ matter of fact resignation even more, like there was no other way for Remus to react except defensively. (It wasn’t always like this. The Marauders, James & Sirius, they’d always been his biggest believers. They’d made him capable of touching the sky and the stars and everything in between and Remus has been untethered ever since that fateful halloween. There was a time, when anyone expecting any less of Remus—even himself—than they should would’ve gotten all of Sirius’ hackles raised—‘our Moony’s worth a dozen of you and you should only be so lucky to get to see that’—so it stung particularly bitterly when it was the same man expressing this apathy.

The juxtaposition of the two Sirius’ in his head was enough to give Remus a headache at the best of times, let alone now.

So he takes a deep breath, lets the feeling wash away, and nods.

“You don’t have any reason to believe me, and I don’t blame you for it, but I do. Want to, that is.”

Sirius didn’t reply but Remus continued, undeterred.

“I didn’t for a long time. I didn’t want to, not at all. Because it would be my fault, you know? And I was so tired, Sirius, god. I was exhausted trying to keep up this pretense. I just needed to get the burden off.”

Sirius just looked at him, silent. Remus could see the way his eyes flick around the room, however, and how his fingers trembled ever so slightly. He might’ve been out of Azkaban but the signs would last a long time.

“What made you change your mind, then?” There's a note of curiosity in Sirius’ voice and Remus cannot articulate the relief that fills him at hearing it. Anything, even anger or blame, was better than that bland apathy that made his skin itch.

The question itself makes him pause, however. Because he’s guilty, nay, he’s ashamed of the answer he’s about to give. He contemplated shutting up, or perhaps leaving the room altogether, and it takes longer than it should for him to banish the thought.

“Remus?” Sirius asked again and it’s the knowing look in his eyes that made him close his eyes in defeat. He should’ve known he couldn’t have avoided this. This was a man who knew him better than anyone else who’s alive right now—how could he ever have thought he’d be able to hide things from him?

So he takes a deep, fortifying breath. Releases it slowly, grounding himself in the process.

“When I came to Hogwarts.”

“The time I broke out?

Remus tilts his head in the barest hint of confirmation. Sirius nods like he’d expected that.

Again, Remus wanted to be offended—but how could he?

“How’d you—“

—know?” Sirius finished. Remus nodded, a sharp, jagged thing that’s barely an answer.

Sirius smiled ruefully. It looked wrong on him, like a shirt stretched out and shrunk back down with a charm. “Because I know you, Remus. And though it hurt, I always knew you didn’t believe in me, at least not at the end there.

I’ve had nothing but time all this while. Time to think, to wonder where it all went wrong, what I could’ve done—time even to curse James out,” he lets out a hollow chuckle at that, one that Remus echoes because just the idea of Sirius cursing at James is so absurd, there’s nothing you can do but laugh at it, morbid though it may be in the moment.

“And the only thing I can think of is how bad we messed up. I don’t— you know the worst part about this, Remus?” Sirius asks, in his tired, broken voice. Just hearing it makes him want to flinch and hide away. Instead, he brings himself to give another shaky nod.

“I wouldn’t have cared one bit if you’d thought I was a mass murderer. Hell, even being a Death Eater could be believable under the right circumstances and you were away so long, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d entertained the thought.”

Remus waited for the ‘but’ with his heart in his mouth, tasting ash and regret and guilt. He knew what was about to come, had wondered the same thing hundreds of times, going round and round in circles with no relief to be found.

“But how could you ever, even just for a second let alone 12 years, think I could do that to Ja—“ here, his voice broke, unable to even finish the name. Sirius’ trembling hands clenched into fists, hard enough that he could see the knuckles losing color. The words were just as devastating as he could have imagined, if not more. Coming from another’s mouth and not just whirling in his thoughts, it seemed even more damning in the light of day.

And that was just it, wasn’t it. It was this that confirmed what Remus had known from the moment he’d been made aware of Sirius’ innocence.

There would be no forgiveness here. The most he could hope for was closure, perhaps a chance to clear the air, as it were, and that was only if Sirius was feeling merciful. Which, when it came to James, he seldom did. Remus would know; he’d seen the aftermath of what happened to those who dared touch James Potter.

And Remus? Ne hadn’t just hurt Sirius—that was almost inconsequential in the larger scheme of things—no, Remus’ biggest mistake was besmirching the legacy, the honor of James Potter.

Sirius had destroyed people for far less.

It was this realisation that weighed heavy on him, head bowing until his chin touched his chest, unable to hold it up anymore, not knowing what to say and unsure whether he should.

“I can forgive you almost anything, Remus, you know that. I wouldn’t have cared one whit about anything else but that you could think that—that anyone who knew us could—it was that, more than the dementors, more than the crazed prisoners, more than the taunts and insults and torture, that’s what almost broke me in Azkaban.”

A sob broke out from Remus’ chest, ugly and desperate and entirely unfair on his part. Sirius didn’t need his guilt, nor his despair. Remus didn't deserve to be unhappy in front of him. He had made his own bed and now he was to lie in it. He couldn’t even be happy about the hint of steel he could hear underlying Sirius’ words, a faint echo of his past self. Because the implications it held for him were devastating. Remus knew he wouldn’t lose Sirius completely—they had too much history for that, but he’d lose everything that made Sirius him. He’d been spoiled, allowed into the small, small circle of people Sirius truly let in, and he knew there would be no going back. There would be perfect civility, and amicable conversations, but he’d never have his Sirius back. He’d get the Sirius Black the rest of the world saw, the one with the impeccable masks, who was always in control—but not Padfoot, never Padfoot anymore.

And that was to be his penance.

“I am—I truly am sorry, Sirius. You’d never know how much. I just—I couldn’t—I don’t think I’ve taken one full breath since that night, everything was too fast and I couldn’t think and I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t used to being alone anymore,” he said, leaning forward desperately, wanting to explain (not justify, never justify), not wanting Sirius to leave thinking this was—this was what Remus wanted. because he didn't, never could’ve imagined things ending up like this.

It was almost humbling, this ignoble end of the Marauders. They’d considered themselves untouchable, rulers of the world, sitting atop a throne only they could see. So many promises, a seemingly unbreakable bond, the best of the best.

And look at them now.

All of them in varying stages of decay, dead and dying.

“And I know, dammit I know that doesn’t count for shite. But please, I just—you have to know—“ his hands pressed together, pleading, as the words came out in a defeated plea, “I never meant for it to be like this.”

“The worst part of that,” Sirius smiled, small and broken and not even worth a shadow of his usual brilliance. “is that I know you mean that, Remus. I believe it too.”

A second passed, then two, before he delivered the final blow.

“I just wish you’d fought for us the way we had for you.”

[bumblingbabooshka]

Processing some things

Also the fact that he's crouching with his hands on his knees is so cute to me for some reason?? He does this in another episode too - the one where Chakotay finds a symbol on an unknown planet...it's just so adorable to me. He could just lean down but no. Also of course his fingers are spread again - GOTTA utilize the whole hand whenever you do ANYTHING (if you're Tuvok)

[scattered-winter]

it's so funny to me when i see people talk about the mcu like "oughhh they should have used [x] character's theme in the soundtrack in the 5 second scene they appeared in" like you really think the mcu soundtracks are cohesive enough across movies to be able to incorporate motifs and themes in a meaningful way. you really think that. lol. lmao, even.

[daincrediblegg]

Truly devastating to want to jump into an AU for your canon x oc/si ship when you haven’t even scratched the surface of your main fic for them yet 😪

[floral-hex]

Thought I’d get out for the night, so I’ve been sitting in this gaming lounge for the last hour and it’s… meh. Ordered an overpriced milkshake, just kind of hanging out. Honestly, I’d rather play games by myself at home than deal with whatever’s going on here. Well… it was worth a shot 😒

[tenshindon]

I think you would like my hero academia I can just imagine the characters in your style.

i actually have seen a bit of MHA but ngl im not too big on it, though it makes me happy you considered what i should check out and you've tried to imagine stuff in my art style (❁´◡`❁)

[lizardho]

I came out to my dad as bisexual at 14 and I was PANICKED because I had a crush on a guy in my Boy Scout troop and thought I was Going To Hell Forever and he was so kind and understanding of my distress, but he had NO idea what bisexuality was. He just said “yeah but you like girls too? This is normal. Everyone is like this.” And I love my dad and trust him with my life to this day and the idea that the concept of bisexuality had not occurred to him had not occurred to me so I put it off.

By 16 though I had a crush on like THREE boys. Three entire boys in my Boy Scout troop. I felt like my sin was slowly advancing, until like an untreated cancer it had become metastatic. I remember bawling my L’il limp-wristed sissy eyes out in his big rumbly truck on the way home from a scout meeting and him telling me that it was OK, that he still loved me if I was gay, but that he knew I wasn’t gay because I still had crushes on women and that meant I was straight. I didn’t quite know how to explain that those felt *~*different*~* and that I felt like I was losing a fight to evil inside me but I again felt comforted by his reassurances and his genuine fatherly love.

At 18 I was like “hey I’m realizing all my friends are going on missions. I don’t wanna do that. Idk how to say that and I don’t have a ‘good enough’ reason to not wanna go.” So I just put it off. Again, my parents were extremely supportive of the information I gave them (I blamed it on perpetually forgetting to start the paperwork.) and one day my mom texted me that she had done the paperwork for me! And that all I needed was to get a physical! So I did that (it was awkward af tbh, my hernia check was done by a trainee doctor and she spent like 3 minutes fishing around my inguinal canals before her attending rescued me) and was sent to Mexico City where I learned that in addition to dipshit himbos with strong hands and scruffy guys with artistic hearts I was REALLY into chubby Latin men with strong personalities who bullied me a little when I lived in Mexico.

I remember my first companion got annoyed with me during an argument and said we were just gonna wrestle and whoever won the wrestling match won the argument (I stg I am dead serious this happened.) I was like…SWEATING when he tore off his tie and threw his white button-down shirt onto the ground (I won btw, don’t ask me how).

I remember one of my companions with this really intense, almost manic energy telling me that he was gonna make sure I was safe in a new area I didn’t know very well. He cooked breakfast for me and we’d go shopping together on P-Days and in the mornings before breakfast he’d jog around and do pull-ups with his shirt off and I’d do anything but look at him because my face would break out in a sweat so intense he’d think I was crying and come over to see if I was OK and somehow make it worse. He let me play D&D with myself in the evenings even though it was against mission rules because he knew how lonely and stressed I was.

I remember one of my companions was a big chubby man with a loud voice and a great sense of humor. He was kind and direct when addressing conflicts with me, and always bragged about how he knew the secrets of women’s minds and it felt like he really did since it almost always boiled down to “Treat Them Like People and Love Them a Lot. Don’t Stop Being A Person For Them. Also Eat Them Out Sloppy Style.” Our P-Day activities sometimes felt like dates, and it seemed like he was more attentive to my emotional state than I was since he was always the first to suggest we slow down our Divinely Mandated, God-Ordained, Super Sacred Work and Wonder to get a snack or check out a Pawn Shop (I love Pawn Shops).

I remember another companion who asked me to bully him every time he did something against his goal of losing weight. It was like he gave me Carte Blanche to take out my crush on him by being a nuisance and I LOVED that. I remember having a breakdown one day after we’d spent the afternoon frantically cleaning our disgusting-barely-habitable mission house to make it look less vile that it was (not our fault imo?) and I started bawling and he pulled me into a hug and he smelled good and he told me he knew it wasn’t just the house and that I was mad at him for being a Huge Dickhead for about a week (true) and that he would work on it. (He’s also a huge chaser but that’s a separate thing.)

I remember one of my companions waking up early (and our schedule is already built for sleep deprivation) to make me a “birthday cake” from knock-off Nutella and bread. He used matches for candles and woke me up, lit the ‘candles,’ pulled them out, then smashed it in my face and took a bunch of pictures while I was still madrugada and disoriented as fuck. He had the same sense of humor as one of my HS crushes and I could push his buttons pretty easily which was so fun.

I came home from my mission and started back at BYU where I became actively and aggressively suicidal. I had a stalker the year I moved up there and my dad’s solution to that was to get me a gun. I know he wouldn’t have bought me a gun if he could have read my mind, but I had a loaded pistol under my bed during a trifecta faith/sexuality/gender crisis and that was not helpful. I remember that the day I decided to kill myself I figured I’d call the BYU CAPS and see if I could get into therapy because it felt like what I was “supposed to do” so I could check my suicide boxes. My therapist was the guy who’d helped me pick a major the year before and was this drop-dead gorgeous Hawaiian man who cried when I told him how I’d been feeling.

A few weeks into therapy I met another stunning man with soft eyes and a scruffy illegal-at-BYU beard he kept pushing his luck with. He was funny, kind, patient, married, and wouldn’t give me the time of day if he knew I was crushing on him. We were in my history of psych class, which was inarguably the worst psych class I have ever had, and we studied together for every assignment and test and I realized that my feelings for him and for all the men I’d already mentioned were in direct conflict with my faith and relationship with God. My already agonizing spiritual conflict became even more wretched and as a result of this plus some other tightly-packed experiences with Mormonisms bullshit, I left the church.

After leaving the church I decided to move back to AZ and transfer to ASU. My mom helped me get a dog since I think it had started to dawn on my family that my mental health was barely getting me through the day, and she knew that we both loved dogs. Madi made my last year at BYU livable while I got my shit together and transferred. In that last year, I went on a date with quite possibly the only semi-openly-out trans person on BYU campus. It was not a great date imo, I was not doing well, but the person I spoke with was fun and fascinating and talked to me about Gender Dysphoria and it really cemented my need to go. To leave and never come back to that fucking school.

I started at ASU a month after my last semester at BYU and within a very short time frame it felt like I was coming back together, like a puzzle magically putting itself together in an environment that wasn’t slowly draining that puzzle’s will to live.

On the 4th of July, the year I started at ASU, I saw a transition timeline photo of a gorgeous happy beautiful happy radiant happy woman and her former Mormon missionary self and I realized the light that was on in her eyes was the light that was off in mine. I looked into transitioning for 3 days, sleeping about 10 hours total during that time. I started talking to other trans people on Reddit (one of whom is now my beautiful fiancée @cintailed) and after about a month of making preparations to be disowned and kicked out, something I was not sure would happen but was ready to go through to Turn On The Lights, I came out to my family and it was amazing. I started HRT a month after that. I secretly dated some dorky guys for about a year while I applied to grad schools. I got into a great grad school for me and my needs. I got FFS. I did my trainings and classes. Me and my fiancée moved in together after some LDR shenanigans. We’ve lived together now for 4 years of basically marital bliss. We have a cat named Grandmother Esmeralda Weatherwax who bites the hell out of my feet about three times a day. My bi-cycle continues to be part of my life but now it’s not as scary. Baby gays in my life have started to look to me for advice. Idk how this all happened so fast. When the years, months, weeks, days, and hours seems to crawl by so slowly now they are rushing past me so fast it’s almost bewildering. Whereas before I felt like I was living on borrowed time, past my ‘expiration date,’ now it feels like I can Fucking Breathe. I’m training myself to slow down now and it feels worth it to Live In The Moment.

Idk why I wrote this. Idk why these thoughts only seem to come up on Sundays when I’m supposed to be writing my dissertation. Idk why I’m crying rn or why I feel so happy. I’m gonna post this shit then get on with my dissertation I guess. Read more Terry Pratchett and give yourselves the time you need. Get a pet. Talk to someone. Re-examine the events that brought you here. Be gayer. Love y’all 💕

[planetpiastri]

pairing: lando norris x fem!australian!reader [no faceclaim] summary: honestly, you kind of expected this part-time gig to just be four days of pure chaos that gave you an excuse to see an f1 race up close. then some guy in the fanzone complimented your shoes, and the rest is history. notes: requested by anon!! this has been sitting in my drafts for aaaaages, sorry love <3 y'all are so brave for putting up with me while i try and remember how tf to write these uhhh yeah this one took a turn hope u like it anyway LMFAO

liked by oscarpiastri, ynusername, and 13,024 others

ausgp Arriving in style! The lads looked great at the Melbourne Walk today 🤩🤩

view all 1,654 comments

username1 lewis and zhou are absolutely slaying!! and oscar is also there

ynusername oscar i love you but you gotta step up your game mate, i wanna wear your merch so bad but it is UGLY!!

landonorris excuse me ausgp i think my fit was deserving of recognition in this post :(

ausgp Can't compete with the hometown hero 🤷‍♂️ landonorris but daniel isn't in this either ? oscarpiastri You're funny.

landonorris

liked by mclaren, ausgp, and 811,364 others

landonorris he shoots, he scores! thanks for such a warm welcome melbourne :)

view all 7,023 comments

oscarpiastri You and I have different definitions of scoring I think

landonorris ever heard of playing the long game? oscarpiastri Nurse he's out again

username2 where's the worker with the shoes i think they're indirecting her

username3 GET THIS MAN THE SHOE LADY'S DIGITS

maxfewtrell Now that's just uncalled for

ausgp Love to see the spirit 😉

username4 aww lando always looks so happy in melbourne, he loves it here :'))

ynusername oh wtf

liked by ausgp, yourfriend, and others

ynusername busy busy busy day, absolutely buggered, but very excited for tomorrow 😁 (also peep The Shoes on the last slide)

view all 89 comments

yourfriend i mean... he's right, they are sick shoes

ynusername you're just saying that cos you made me buy them yourfriend well yes!

username5 omg are u the girl who was working the fanzone today??

ynusername i was one of them!

username6 ok if this is the shoe lady i don't blame lando for staring she's so pretty omg

yourfriend "the shoe lady" ynusername i've been titled?????

ynusername

liked by yourfriend, landonorris, and others

ynusername weirdest work day ever (included today's shoes bc apparently it's a thing now)

view all 112 comments

yourfriend that wrap was good as hell tho

ynusername deffo the most exciting part of lunch

username7 wait who is this girl and why does lando follow her?

username8 go to lovestruckln on twitter, she has a whole thread about it!

landonorris ...weird in a good way, right?

username9 your lack of rizz is astounding lando username10 bro STAND UP ynusername weird in an interesting way landonorris i'll take that

landonorris

liked by ynusername, ausgp, and 1,011,023 others

landonorris melb, you have my ❤️

view all 8,327 comments

username11 SHOE GIRLLLLLL

username12 i hope they never hard launch and he just keeps posting pics of cool sneakers

georgerussell63 You're welcome

charles_leclerc You did it, you crazy son of a bitch ausgp Where's our credit?? georgerussell63 You put the pieces in play, I moved them into checkmate ynusername you threw a shoe at me. calm down. ausgp He what???

username13 bro's collecting aussies like infinity stones

danielricciardo ?? oscarpiastri No ynusername :// landonorris 😁😁

ynusername you're cool ig 🙄

landonorris your swag style and utter disdain for me has captured my heart ynusername oh my god stop i'm blushing

tagging: @thearchieves @sheridamn @nikfigueiredo @charlig123456789 @ilove-tswizzle @aandreea2005 @sideboobrry @vellicora @eire-the-egg @marymustdie @cocote1410 @taygrls @koalapastries @vroomvroommuppett @nichmeddar @d3kstar @333kiki @ririyulife @resident-swiftie @zimm04 @jupiter-je-taime @ever_bizzare @clemswrld @hollieeelol @leireggsworld @ironmaiden1313 @lunar-racing @lightninginab0ttle @maddie-naps @bwddermilch @pnkwhskyprncss @landossainz @chaotic_version

request: hiya! i love how funny your smau’s are and i’m begging for an aussie!reader x Lando one. maybe she works for the AusGP and they met in Melbourne? idk -anon

[hanniebaeee]

The Wedding

Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: nothing other than some shameless flirting and kissing

Genre: arranged marriage, best friends to lovers, flufff

Summary: You and Felix grew up together and are best friends. You both always knew that you'd have an arranged marriage, that's how it always works. But you don't expect to have an arranged marriage with your best friend.

Part 2 - The Honeymoon

The news hits you like a ton of bricks. Of all the things in the world you expect your parents to say to you, this was never on the list. Your mum is going on about "you and Felix finally being together."

Felix?!

As in, Lee Felix, your best friend, Felix?

The one who let you cheat off his math tests back in high school? Your partner in crime?

Your parents look so happy about this. Your dad is nodding approvingly as your mum goes on about how wonderful this will be, because Felix has always been like her son anyway.

You slip outside once your dad pats your shoulder softly and tells you that he's such a good boy and perfect for you. Pulling out your phone, you call him, your hands trembling. Felix answers after one ring.

“Bro, what’s happening here?” he says, his deep laugh rumbling through the line. Oh, so he knows.

The urge to whack him - again - on calling you "bro" is so strong, but just for this time, you let it slide. But your heart flutters a little because he sounds unexpectedly warm and close…like he’s right next to you.

“Are you… like, okay with this?” you ask, your voice a little shaky.

He pauses, then his voice softens.

“I mean… yeah. I guess. I mean, it's us…better than… you know?” he says, and you just know that he's blushing. You can imagine that soft pink of his cheeks and the perfect dusting of freckles - ok, get a grip!

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He’s right. You knew you would have an arranged marriage at some point. That's how it works in your family, well, your families. But this is Felix. Your Felix.

You meet later that afternoon, in your usual cafe. He's smiling as you approach and take a seat across him. But this time, everything feels different.

“Hello, princess,” he teases, his grin wide as he sits back, eyes trained on you. “Should I start calling you wifey now?”

“Stop it,” you hiss, kicking him under the table, but he only laughs, his eyes twinkling.

“Oh, come on, fiancée,” he says, stretching out the word like he’s savoring it. “Aren’t you excited? You get to see this face every morning now.”

He points at himself, giving you a cocky grin.

“You’re ridiculous!” you laugh, lifting your hand to attack him, but he just catches it and holds it.

You freeze, suddenly hyper-aware of how warm his fingers feel against yours, his thumb tracing small circles along your skin.

“Hey, don’t get shy on me now,” he whispers, leaning in just a bit closer. “You've literally been my wifey for so long…?”

Your cheeks are on fire, and you yank your hand back, trying to ignore the way your heart is trying to leap out of your chest.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, bro,” you mutter, trying to recover as he just laughs harder.

“Hey, if I’m your fiancé, I better not hear that word coming from your mouth,” he warns, grinning. “Unless you want me to punish you for it.”

“Oh my God! What's up with you all of a sudden?!” You say, totally exasperated with his change. “And besides, it's not like you can just-”

He raises a brow and says, “Try me.”

And that’s when you realize that Felix is actually not just ok with. He's absolutely fucking celebrating this.

A storm of engagement prep begins (immediately), and your mum takes matters into her hands to ensure you look like the world’s most ‘eligible’ bride-to-be. This means you are in and out of boutiques and fittings and stylings and what not. It's a pain.

“Mum, please,” you groan, eyeing that ridiculous necklace she's holding out to you. “Felix doesn’t care if I wear that. He’s seen me looking like a troll! I don't have to-”

“That was before he had to put a ring on your finger in front of every important person in town,” she says, pinning you with that look. “Do you want Felix regretting this before he even says ‘I do’?”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, Felix wanders in casually, and leans against the doorframe watching you both glare at each other.

“Lixie!” you say, calling him over to settle the debate. “Do you or do you not find me sexy and appealing?”

Your mum’s mouth drops open at your bluntness and she glares daggers at you, but Felix just smirks as he walks over to you.

“Of course I find you sexy and appealing, wifey,” he says, with a shameless wink in your mum’s direction.

You mum sighs before she leaves the rooms, huffing and muttering something about “you two being a lost cause”.

The second the door closes, you give him your best glare. “I told you, stop calling me that.”

Felix just grins, tilting his head and letting his voice drop into a low drawl as he says, “What else would I call my wifey, hmm?”

You feel that little flip in your tummy, and you try to step back, but he only follows, stepping closer.

“FELIX!” you warn, heart racing as he grins, closing the distance between you until his face is dangerously close to yours.

“Where are you going?” he teases, his eyes glinting playfully.

You let out a huff, backpedaling toward the door.

“Outta here,” you say quickly, but he steps forward, his hand braced against the wall next to your head, blocking your way.

“What’s wrong, wifey?” he whispers, voice sultry. “Not scared of me, are you?”

“Please,” you scoff, though your cheeks are burning. “You're so full of yourself.”

“Oh, is that so?” he smirks, looking down at you like he wants to eat you up.

You swallow, eyeing him suspiciously, because what the hell happened to your goofy bestie? But before you start to side step him, he steps back with a satisfied grin, letting you go.

“I came to tell you that we're going ring shopping tomorrow.” He says with a wink. “You, me and mum.”

“Ok, you don't have to kill me for that.” You grumble, as you take the chance to bolt out of the room. You're sure you hear him chuckle behind you, and you can't help but smile.

Ring shopping with Felix and his mum is already more nerve-wracking than you expected. Mummy dearest just wants you to have anything you want. Or everything.

A pair of pretty earrings catch her attention and she floats away to take a look, and Felix sidles up next to you, giving you that smirk of his.

"Just pick whatever you like, Lix,” you tell him, attempting nonchalance as you point to a display case. “It’s just a ring - I really don't mind."

“It should be something you like, don’t you think?” he asks, his eyes never leaving you.

You narrow your eyes at him, flustered.

“Yah, I'll like anything you choose, ok?” you mumble, looking away, hoping that you don't look like a tomato in a dress.

“Of course,” he says, looking through the rings.

You start browsing too, but every time you risk a glance at him, you find him staring at you with that amused smirk on his stupidly handsome face.

“Felix,” you hiss, trying not to stutter. “Will you stop that? You’re distracting me.”

“Sorry babe,” he says, his voice low. “Can’t help it… ”

Your face heats up, and you stumble over your words as you try to regain some dignity. Just then his mum is back, and gives him a little slap on his arm.

“Felix, stop making her uncomfortable.” she scolds, and he just laughs and asks you, “Are you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?” You scoff. “I’m two seconds away from shoving these rings down your throat.”

He bursts out laughing and says,“Ah, there’s my girl. Feisty as ever.”

You shoot him a look, desperately trying to fight your smile, and glance over at the rings. You two finally settle on a delicate design - a simple band with a round diamond gleaming in the center.

“Good choice,” he says, his voice unexpectedly soft. “Looks like it was made for you.”

His words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you can’t look away from him. There's a warm, unfamiliar feeling stirring in your chest, and it just makes you want to pull him into a hug.

“Well, it’s perfect! Let’s get it.” Felix’s mum claps her hands, calling an end to your ring hunt.

The engagement party is a whirlwind of lights, drinks and an endless stream of guests congratulating you and Felix. The venue is breathtaking - but the heat and attention are a bit overwhelming. Your dress, though gorgeous, is sticking to your body uncomfortably, and it's getting harder and harder to keep your smile up. You feel your anxiety creeping up, ready to take over.

Just when you think you might combust under the pressure, you feel a warm hand slip into yours. You look up to see Felix, and without a word, he tugs you out of the crowd and into the gardens.

Outside, the cool air feels so good on your sweaty skin, and you sigh in relief. Felix leads you to a little bench nestled under a tree, and you see a glass of wine and a plate with a slice of cake he’s swiped from the party. And also a little bottle of water from his pocket.

“Better?” he asks, as he watches you take a sip of the water.

“Much better,” you breathe, grinning. “I was about to go hide under a table.”

He chuckles, leaning back and taking a sip of the wine, his eyes lingering on you.

“Couldn’t let my fiancée be hiding under tables, could I?” he says, nudging your knee with his.

You roll your eyes, laughing. But you catch a glimmer of something softer in his expression, something almost vulnerable.

“So…” he begins, looking away, sounding a bit more serious. “You’re really okay with this? I mean, me? Doing this with me?”

You can tell he’s hiding a bit of worry behind his charm, afraid you’re anxious about being with him. The thought alone makes your heart ache a little, and you reach out, slipping your hand into his. You give his fingers a gentle squeeze and smile softly.

“Felix,” you say, looking him right in the eyes, “I’m so glad it’s you. I really am. I mean, I feel like the luckiest person alive to be marrying my best friend.”

For once, his easy, cocky confidence falters. He blushes, a soft pink covering his cheeks as he looks down, biting his lip. He lets out a small, shy laugh, his fingers tightening around yours.

“I feel the same,” he murmurs, his voice so low, it's barely audible.

Felix wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a warm, tight hug. You let yourself sink into it, your own arms going around his neck. You feel his heartbeat against yours, everything else fading away as you just hold each other.

This feels so good - just the two of you, close, cozy, and warm. But just as you’re starting to relax, you feel his hands begin to wander. It slides a bit too low down your back and you pull back to stare at him, wide eyed.

“Felix!” you whisper-yell, squirming. “Keep your hands to yourself!”

“What?” he says, feigning innocence. “Can’t a man hug his future wife?”

You try to glare at him, but it’s impossible to keep a straight face as he grins down at you like that.

“If you want to keep all ten of your fingers, you'd be more careful.” you say dryly, letting him pull you in for another quick squeeze before finally letting go. But his arm stays draped around your shoulders, as if he’s not willing to let you go just yet.

If engagement prep was a pain, wedding prep is basically a full-time job. Your days are a blur of dress fittings, cake tastings, and jewelry appointments - and it's totally exhausting.

And if all that wasn’t enough, your mum has taken it upon herself to enforce a strict “no Felix” rule until the wedding. Apparently, she thinks that if you keep hanging out with him, you’ll run out of things to talk about post-wedding. You practically choke on air when she says it.

“Are you serious? He's my best friend! Who am I going to talk to then?” you ask, only to get a very serious look from her.

“Trust me, you’ll thank me when you’ve still got some surprises left.” she says, and you just huff, mentally counting down the hours until you can actually see Felix without her watching you like a hawk.

During dinner with Felix and his family that night, your mum casually drops the news that both sets of parents have planned to gift you and Felix a massive, all-expenses-paid honeymoon.

Felix glances at you from the opposite side of the table, trying not to grin and you do your best not to look at him. And he nudges your foot under the table and you nudge back, until your mum gives you a sharp glare and you quiet down.

Later that night, Felix sneaks over to your room as the parents get busy, and you both sit cross-legged on your bed, a laptop open between you, scrolling through honeymoon destinations. The choices are endless - beach resorts, mountain cabins, historic villas, exotic getaways…

“A beach resort, huh? Imagine you… in one of those little bikinis…all warm and sun-kissed. I suggest a beach resort.” Felix says, leaning into you.

You sigh as you say, “Felix! Shut up! I assure you there won't be any bikinis.”

He laughs and says, “Or what about the mountains? We’ll be all alone in a cozy cabin, we can just get comfy in front of the fire with the snow falling outside… and absolutely nothing else to do all day. Just you know…it's always the cold that -”

He playfully shoves you a little, and you shove him back a little too hard that he falls off the bed and lands on the thick rug with an exaggerated groan, rolling onto his back with a pained look.

Just as you’re about to scold him for being ridiculous, your door creaks open, and your mom walks in, her mouth dropping open at the sight of Felix sprawled on the floor.

“What are you doing?” she screeches, giving you an incredulous look.

You freeze, as if caught committing a crime, as you stutter, “He - Mum, he was asking for it.”

She puts a hand on her hip, shaking her head.

“That’s no way to treat your future husband! Honestly, Y/N, his parents are still downstairs!” she scolds.

Felix, barely containing his laughter, shakes his head.

“I’m fine, Mrs. Y/L/N. She just doesn’t agree with my honeymoon choices, that’s all.” he says, looking like a perfect angel.

You shoot him a glare and say, “That’s because they’re terrible.”

“Oh, really?” he says, smirking as he stands up, brushing himself off. “I just suggested a few exciting options. It’s not my fault you’re so-”

“Felix,” you interrupt, your voice dangerously low, “I swear to God-”

Your mom sighs, looking between the two of you with exasperation. “I have nothing to say to you two. Felix, I need you downstairs in 10 minutes. No excuses.”

“Yes ma'am.” He says, giving her a salute and she leaves, shaking her head.

You let out a sigh of relief, trying to ignore the smug grin on Felix’s face as he plops back on the bed beside you. He's sitting closer now, it feels like he's trying to climb into your lap.

“Alright, love,” you mutter. “We’re not going anywhere with snow. If I’m going to be stuck with you, I’m going to need sunshine.”

He grins and says, “Ah, so you do want to wear the little bikini.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the little shiver of excitement that courses through you. You point to the screen, settling on a gorgeous beach resort with crystal-clear waters and beach cabins.

“Happy?” you ask, trying to ignore the flutter in your heart.

“Oh, you have no idea,” he murmurs, resting his forehead on your shoulder. “I can’t wait.”

The look in his eyes is wicked, leaving you flustered.

The night before the wedding, you’re a wreck. You’re an anxious mess, and every time you close your eyes, all you can think about is the ceremony, the crowd, the vows… and of course, the part where you’re supposed to kiss Felix. In front of a hundred people. For the very first time.

Finally, at the end of your rope, you grab your phone and text Felix.

You: Are you sure about tomorrow? Like sure sure?

He replies almost instantly.

Lix: Why would you even ask me that?! Are you planning on ditching me tomorrow?

Lix: Babe? Y/N don't scare me like that!

You: No! No no no...I'm sorry.

You: I just...I miss you.

There’s no reply, and you regret having texted him. A fresh wave of anxiety hits you, when you hear a sound at your window. You look over, and there he is - Felix, grinning as he climbs in like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Oh my God, you’re insane,” you say, but you’re smiling as you rush over and throw your arms around him, his warmth enveloping you as he holds you tight.

“Can't let you freak out alone, you know,” he murmurs, his voice soft in your ear. “I want you to know that “I’ve never been this happy before. Marrying you… it’s the best thing that could happen to me.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you want to say something equally romantic back, but all you can manage is a soft, “I’m scared.”

His face softens, and he squeezes you a little before asking, “Of me?”

“No,” You sigh. “About everything else. All the people, they'll all be watching us…I'm scared about… kissing you…it's -” You feel your cheeks heat up, embarrassed to admit it.

“Ohhh,” he says, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “So that’s what’s got you all worked up. The kiss?”

He raises an eyebrow, cupping your cheeks with his hands. “Well, you know, if you need to practice, I’m here to help.”

Your heart jumps into your throat as he gazes at you with so much love and mischief.

“What-”

“Shh, just let it happen, ok?”

He inches closer and you can barely breathe as you meet his gaze. He tilts his head slightly, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

And then, he closes the distance, his lips soft and warm against yours. The kiss is gentle at first, so warm and soft, but then he leans in a little closer, his hand moving to the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss. Your heart is racing so fast you’re sure he can hear it.

This is real. This is actually real. You’re kissing Felix - your best friend, your almost-husband. And it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

When he finally pulls back, he’s smiling.

“Well,” he says, sounding a bit breathless, “consider that practice round one.”

You can’t help but laugh. He gives you one more soft, lingering kiss, and you feel a strange mix of excitement and calm wash over you.

“Tomorrow’s going to be perfect,” he whispers, his lips touching your forehead. “I promise.”

The wedding is a fairytale. A garden venue draped with twinkling fairy lights and flowers. But nothing compares to the way he gazes at you as you walk down the aisle, like he can’t believe this moment was real. The whole day is a dream - except when your mum cries and cries so hard, it makes you cry and it makes Felix cry.

Now, as the two of you step into your new apartment together, just you and him - you feel like your heart might just burst. You’re still in your wedding dress, the delicate lace and silk brushing against your skin as Felix closes the door behind you.

It's so silent and you can’t tell if the excitement or the nerves are stronger, but it feels like your skin is on fire.

Felix catches your gaze, that familiar smirk dancing on his lips, but the way he looks at you is so warm and soft. He takes your hand, leading you into your bedroom.

“Let's get you out of all this,” he murmurs, stepping closer.

You nod, more than happy to be free of it all. You watch him take off his coat, tossing it on the bed.

As you take off your earrings, you feel his hands move to your hair, slowly pulling out the pins that hold it in place, one by one. He’s silent, focused, his every touch so tender. Your hair falls loose, and he lets his fingers comb through it, smiling.

“You looked stunning today,” he says. “I really had to hold myself back so I don't embarrass myself in front of everyone.”

Your cheeks burn as you manage to giggle and say, “You’re such a flirt, Lixie.”

“Only for you, wifey.” His voice dips low, his fingers trailing down to the back of your neck.

Your hands are trembling slightly as he moves to the zipper of your dress, sliding it down slowly. The fabric loosens, and he eases the dress off your shoulders, letting it pool softly at your feet.

“Still nervous?” he whispers, his hands resting on your waist.

You swallow, nodding. “A little.”

“Hmm,” he hums, pressing a feather-light kiss to your collarbone. “Just be yourself, yeah? You're perfect.”

You bite your lip, the butterflies in your stomach going wild as he presses a kiss on your cheek, then one just below your jawline. Your hands grip at the fabric of his shirt, crumbling it under your fingers.

“Felix,” you whisper, feeling your face heat up as he teases a line of kisses down your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

And when he finally leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s so tender and achingly sweet, you put your arms around him, sinking into him.

The teasing glint in his eyes turns into something darker and he leans closer, his fingers brushing along your jaw.

"So, Mrs. Lee,” he murmurs, “How’s it feel to finally be mine?”