#they might know him all too well actually
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Mine, Only Mine — Mr. Crawling, Gap, Silvair, Chopped, Hugeface, and Scarletella x gn! reader
summery: how jealous do some of the Homicipher boys get?
tw: unhealthy relationships (Mr. Hugeface & Scarletella)
wc: 1.2k
Master List
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Crawling
❥I know people have written about how he gets jealous…but I don’t really think he does? Or at least not terribly. The scene with Mr. Chopped and the cat ears show that Mr. Crawling won’t pout or get sad at you showing affection to others, just that he wants to gain the same attention (the ear scene…). So jealousy with Mr. Crawling isn’t too bad, just be prepared to shower him with more affection than the person you originally did.
❥On the other hand, I do think his jealousy may increase if you ignore him. Say you give more attention to Mr. Scarletella, Mr. Crawling would get a bit sad and pouty, thinking you don’t like him anymore. If this happens, give him lots and lots of attention and reassurance, he’ll be super grateful. I mean he loves your affection anyways, so might as well give him some extra headpats and kisses. Even better if you only show certain signs of affection with him, it makes him feel special.
❥Overall, not the most jealous, but not completely unaffected either. Make sure he gets his daily dose of attention/quality time and he’ll be as right as rain.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Gap
❥Uh, he gets more jealous than you’d think. Like…his whole thing is he wants to be special to you…in his own strange way. Doesn’t like the thought of someone taking his place as a jokester to you. Also why he brings you things he’d think you like from time to time, just to make sure you still have that special place in your heart for him <3
❥Hates hate hates when you call him bad or not good. He’s good! He swears! Remember how he’s helped you before! Gets all frowny when you call him not good and then call someone else good. He’s good too! Guess he has to prove it, AGAIN. It’s honestly kind of endearing how he has no clue how he actually kind of does like you? But not exactly in a romantic way? It’s honestly hard to label his feelings towards you, so why should I?
❥I’d say he’s the second most jealous in this list of characters, watching on angrily as you praise someone that isn’t him. Be prepared for magazines and books galore when he’s in this mood, trying to prove his worth to you. Kind of strange for someone to try so hard when they claim to not like you…
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Silvair
❥Definitely the chillest one here. Doesn’t really get jealous at all :/ If anything, he finds it entertaining when you’re affectionate with others. Gives him more insight to his lab rats. Yes, he sees everyone as a lab rat. Idk, I can’t really see him get jealous.
❥Maybe…MAYBE if someone else tries doing research on you, or if Ms. Nurse treats you instead he’ll feel a bit off. Like…you’re his test subject, he knows you from the inside out…literally and not in the fun sense. Why would you go to someone who doesn’t know as much about you and how this world affects you? It’s very hard to spot his jealousy, doesn’t even notice it/recognize it himself. He just doesn’t want anyone to mess up his data…that’s all…totally.
❥In conclusion, not really jealous. Doesn’t feel like he needs to be. You’re ‘friends’, doctor and patient, mad scientist and lab rat not many others threaten that balance between you.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Chopped
❥Honestly…Mr. Chopped I’m kinda mixed on how he’d be. Like on one hand, I could totally see him getting jealous if you call others cute or pay too much attention to them. On the other…he could probably care less. He loves himself, you love him, why does he need to get jealous? It’s clear how much you like him with the way you pamper him. I mean we get so many examples where you’re affectionate to Mr. Crawling in front of Mr. Chopped and he doesn’t really bat an eye.
❥Now, I can see if he gets a bit insecure he might get more jealous. Whether it be because Mr. Crawling pats your head or tucks you into bed, Mr. Chopped feels a bit sad. He’d like to tuck you in, you look so comfy. Might be just a bit pouty, eyeing you like a dissatisfied cat. Easily rectified with head pats or even cuddles. Gets side tracked from his jealousy as soon as you give him a sliver of attention honestly.
❥Mr. Chopped is fifty fifty when it comes to jealousy, but it’s never too bad. He’s pretty comfortable with what you both have and doesn’t really feel threatened by others. After all, you did call him cute.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Hugeface
❥I wouldn’t say he gets jealous? More possessive than anything. Like that scene when Mr. Machete stumbles into his little makeshift dollhouse that he made for you and gets all angry that he’s there. It’s more of a ‘you’re not supposed to be here, this is our playtime’ more than actual jealousy. Throws a little fit whenever someone messes up your playtime. Very accusatory lmao.
❥Does not like when you try to escape. Was he not providing enough for you? Were you unhappy? You’re not allowed to leave! You’re his cute human! He can’t just find another one y’know. Mr. Hugeface may be lenient if he sees you happier, you need enrichment after all. Feels extra happy if you come back on your own violation.
❥The most childish out of all the characters on this list. Isn’t afraid to throw tantrums, will also punish you by putting you in a solid concrete cube if he’s really upset. Yeah…not the most healthy of relationships to have…BUT! I do think you could convince him to be a bit better…? Maybe? Only if you put enough work in communicating with him though. Maybe punish him in your own way like leaving for longer if he threatens to trap you.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Scarletella
❥Uhhhhhhhhhhh. Top of the list when it comes to jealousy. Watches your every move with curiosity and spite. Why are you doing that to Mr. Crawling? Do it to him instead. Why do you look so happy braiding Mr. Chopped’s hair? Style his hair instead. Why are you looking so fondly amused at Mr. Gap? Don’t you find him amusing? You do like him, right? He likes you. He likes you a lot, and he thought he was enough…was he not?
❥Will stare through your skull. It is so intimidating. His smile? Strained, it makes your skin crawl. You have to make sure he doesn’t hurt your friends, he’s so close to snapping, but he knows that would upset you and that’s not his goal. So instead he stands ominously in the background, body staticing in and out while his hand clenches the handle of his umbrella.
❥Not that easily mended. Likes to monopolize all your time and affection. Needs constant reassurance as well, he’s quite needy. If you like constant validation and no social life go for it, just don’t get too upset if he threatens your other monster friends…he can’t stand that you could like someone that wasn’t him.
#❥ • my works#homicipher x reader#mr crawling x reader#mr gap x reader#mr silvair x reader#mr chopped x reader#mr hugeface x reader#mr scarletella x reader#homicipher#mr crawling#mr gap#mr silvair#mr chopped#mr hugeface#mr scarletella#x reader
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shy!reader decides to show up at a frat house party after almost a week of radio silence.
꒰ part one ꒱ — ꒰ part two ꒱— ꒰ part three ꒱
you were telling the truth when you told kitty and nick that you were super busy. the timing of being swamped with classes and assignments, coupled with the betrayal and hurt of being isolated from the frat formal, actually worked in your favour. it provided a much-needed distraction.
your classes kept you somewhat sane. yet, the constant buzzing of your phone from chris became a source of anxiety, which made you eventually decide to put your phone on do not disturb.
you hated doing that to him—it felt hard and unkind—but you needed to focus. each time his name lit up the screen, guilt and frustration washed over you, but you knew you had to prioritise your studies.
it might seem hypocritical to say you had no time for distractions, especially since you still made time to meet up with kitty and nick for lunch. their company was a pleasant break from the weight of your responsibilities.
you even found yourself opening up about chris, wearing your heart on your sleeve as you shared the confusion and frustration you felt — letting them know that you struggle to articulate how difficult it is to figure out your emotions of what's right and wrong, especially since you weren't even officially dating him.
they listened to you patiently, letting you spill your thoughts while they threw in the occasional sarcastic remark about chris, and eventually, they gently nudged you toward the idea of talking to him.
after some hesitation, you agreed. deep down, you knew you had to. you're not a mean person; you don't have a mean bone in your body, and ignoring chris' calls and texts felt like the closest you'd ever come to being unkind. that realisation weighed heavy on you.
however, the thought of facing him made your stomach churn. the idea of seeing chris after having been 'mean' left you on edge, your heart racing at the possibilities. but, you reminded yourself that communication is essential, even when it feels so daunting.
talking to him felt like a long shot, but you were willing to take that leap.
friday afternoon arrives quicker than you initially anticipated, and your palms feel clammy as you walk beside your friend, heading toward the familiar frat house that's already overflowing with students, laughing, and the thumping bass of loud music.
as you approach the entrance, your lips part in surprise when some of the frat brothers notice you — their wide, goofy grins spread across their faces, and they wave at you drunkenly. you smile shyly in response, turning their waves with a small, but kind, gesture before your friend pulls you further into the house.
it doesn't take long for your eyes to land on chris. he's sprawled on the couch, man-spreading, a beer in one hand and a joint in the other. he's glancing up at a guy standing over him holding a wad of cash, and you watch as chris holds the joint between his lips before dipping his hand into his pocket, pulling out a baggie of colourful pills and handing it over in exchange for cash.
"where have y'beeeeen?" a voice jolts you from your thoughts, and you turn just in time to see nate approaching, his arms swinging wide as he embraces you in a drunken hug. his cheek smushes against yours, and you catch a whiff of alcohol and weed on his breath. "i felt like fuckin' hansel 'n gretal leavin' a trail of apples f'you to find your way back, kid."
his words making you giggle, and your friend steps in to help untangle you from nate's affectionate grip, causing him to huff dramatically as he leans into her, his arm wrapping around her waist instead.
"come on," your friend urges, trying to tug nate away from you. "let her go speak to chris."
"good luck... been a fuckin' asshole all week," nate murmurs with a drunken slur, and your smile begins to falter, a wave of unease washing over you. you know all too well that you're likely the reason for chris' mood. as nate stumbles backward, he turns his head, pointing at you with a grin, "m'serious about them apples! they're in the fridge f'you!"
as they move away, the laughter and music fade into the background, and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for what's about to happen. your stomach swirls and churns with each step, the anticipation and anxiety building as you near chris, who remains unaware of your presence — too absorbed in taking a hit of his joint and counting the crumpled bills in his hand.
just as you're about to stand directly in front of him, his eyes flit up to meet yours. you give him a timid smile, hoping for a sliver of recognition or even warmth, but it falters and falls when he looks away, completely ignoring you.
the sting of his dismissal hits you like a brutal punch to the gut, and suddenly, you feel like you might be sick.
this wasn't how you had planned it in your head. you weren't supposed to be ignored... you were supposed to talk, to find some common ground, and hopefully, to be fine again.
your head is spinning, and your mind is clouded with confusion and hurt. the room starts to close in around you, the drunken students moving like a tidal wave, and you panic, your heart hammering against your chest.
in the midst of your spiralling, you catch sight of matt and kitty sitting on an armchair in the corner of the room, their eyes locked onto you. kitty pushes herself off of matt's lap, and matt follows closely behind, both seeming to make a beeline for you. but before you can even fully process their approach, your arm is suddenly caught in a tight grasp.
you're whisked away upstairs before you can even blink, the world around you blurring as you're pulled away from the chaos. panic surges through you, but gradually, a sense of relief washes over you when you're yanked into a familiar bedroom—chris' bedroom—and shock courses through you as you turn to see that it was him who brought you up here.
"relax," he grumbles, shutting the bedroom door behind you, which partially mutes the music from downstairs. "fuckin' dramatic for no reason."
even with his blunt, harsh words, there's an odd comfort in them, and you hate the realisation of how much you have missed him. the urge to suddenly hug him overwhelms you, but you hold back, wrapping your arms around yourself instead.
"nice of you to finally fuckin' show up," he continues, his gaze piercing as it drills into you, making you chew down on your plush bottom lip. he scoffs, shaking his head. "what? got nothin' to say? just—just gonna come here 'n show your face? all silent 'n shit?"
"i was busy," you respond, grasping at the same words you've been using all week, and the second scoff that escapes him makes you frown.
"right, right... 'cos it uh, didn't seem like you were busy when you were meetin' up with kitty and nick, yeah?"
"they met me for lunch on campus," you explain, your eyebrows furrowing a little. "i was still on campus.."
"what's your problem?" his question catches you off guard, and you blink, momentarily stunned. "like, what is goin' on? two weeks ago, you were fuckin' fine, and now you're ignorin' me? did i do somethin'?"
you take a deep breath, your eyes flitting to the side, searching for the right words before you murmur, "you didn't tell me about the formal."
"oh my god," your gaze snaps back to chris as he takes off his hat, raking his fingers through his tousled hair. a laugh of disbelief escapes his lips. "that—that's what this is about? 'cos... 'cos i didn't tell you about a fraternity formal that you have no interest in?"
you frown softly, "when did i—"
"kid, y'don't even like fuckin' frat parties, what makes you think you'd like a formal?" he huffs, rubbing at his jaw frustratingly. "y'wouldn't have even gone."
"it's the thought that counts," you reply, a bit more defensively than intended. you fidget on the spot, your fingers twisting together nervously as you try to steady your racing heart. "i... i would've liked to have been asked or something."
"yeah? so i could stand there 'n hear you say no?" chris shoots back, rolling his tongue across his teeth. "kid, i knew you would say no. that's why i didn't fuckin' ask — knew you wouldn't like that shit."
"but why didn't you tell me about it in the first place?" you feel the heat rising in your cheeks, that frustration and hurt bubbling to the surface as you swallow thickly. "is it because you was taking her?"
"not everythin' i do needs to be told t'you, kid," chris responds sharply, his tone cutting through the air like a knife. he then pulls a face, "her?"
"cherry." you whisper her name, trying to keep your voice steady despite the tight knot forming in your stomach.
"che—i didn't take cherry," he stares at you incredulously, his brows knitting together. "why the fuck would i take cherry? i went alone, dumbass."
his reaction catches you off guard, and you can't help but push. "but everyone saw you with her? and the photos?"
"yeah, she was there, but i didn't fuckin' take her — she was feignin' for them fuckin' pills, kid," The bluntness of his words strike you hard, and suddenly, embarrassment washes over you. you realise you had jumped to conclusions, just like everyone else, and you look down, biting your tongue as you desperately search for something to say.
silence stretches between you, thick and uncomfortable, and your gaze finds its way back to chris, who is already staring at you as if he's trying to decipher your thoughts. he tilts his head slightly, crossing his arms over his chest, a posture that feels confrontational.
"besides," he begins, his tone shifting to something more matter-of-fact, "shouldn't really matter to you who i go with, right? 'cos we're not datin', kid. we're just sleepin' together, yeah?"
his words hang in the air like a cold reminder, and you nod your head slowly in response.
"do y'wanna stop?" he asks suddenly.
you didn't expect that question, and your heart races. "what?"
"m'givin' you an out, kid.. d'you wanna stop?" his gaze is unwavering, searching your face for an answer, and you can sense the weight of the choice he's placing in front of you.
you think over his question for a moment, and you think hard, weighing the options. ending this arrangement with him would certainly be a lot less complicated, but the thought leaves you hallow.
chris has become the normal for you. he's apart of your routine, a presence that even though frustrates the hell out of you and makes you so confused, he also brings you an odd comfort and excitement. and not only are you experiencing new sexual things with him, you are enjoying the pleasures that come with it too.
"no," you answer softly, "no, not really."
"alright..." chris hums, and you watch as his shoulders seem to relax, his arms uncrossing from his chest at your response. he nods his head, licking his lips to wet them, before he asks, "you stayin' over or you plannin' on bein' busy again?"
your face heats up, your nose scrunching up and your lips forming into a small pout as your murmur. "i was serious about being busy..."
"yeah, okay, bun."
© STURNIOZ
#©sturnioz#☆ fratboy!chris#☆ shy!reader#☆ fratboy!chris x shy!reader#★ ⋮ sturniolo hours !#★ ⋮ chris hours !
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Sebastian laughed when William called the car ride with Ronald actual purgatory. Oh god, that bad, yes? Well, he couldn't exactly be mad when William explained himself like that. Who knew what Ronald was like when he really wanted to know some spicy details... Also, given he was so upset with them for not telling him...
Either way, William reassured him that Ronald was a good guy and a good friend, who wouldn't tell. That calmed him down at least and he would be able to sleep somewhat peacefully.
Speaking of sleeping - they both had to eventually end the call. It was start of the weekend so at least William promised to spend the whole saturday with him tomorrow. Sebastian was so glad - he would so ask the nurses to leave the bed tomorrow. He felt energized and way better already - not only because he had had such an amazing visit by his friends, heh...
Truth be told, the night wasn't so bad. Sebastian could somewhat sleep, the pain was better already, although he still felt weak. The weather on the next morning was cloudy and a bit gloomy but that didn't taint Sebastian's mood at all. When he got his breakfast from one of the nurses he asked her if he was allowed to get up already, as he'd like to walk around a bit in the park with his partner, have lunch with him too.
"Well...technically you are allowed to if you feel well enough, movement is encouraged actually", she explained, "But I would suggest you take a wheelchair with you, just in case you might start to feel fatigued during your outing. The key is to take it slow".
Well - that was all Sebastian needed to hear.
For I have sinned...
The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes.
William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times.
“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?”
William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.
“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.��
“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…
***
Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?
So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.
After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.
The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them.
He was in for a bit surprise.
@crazyvik97
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you need to calm down
summary - a collection of moments before you and harry go to the eras tour
[ sat in my drafts for FAR too long ]
word count - ~1.5k
pairing - husband!harry x reader
🪩✨🪩✨🪩✨🪩✨🪩✨🪩✨🪩✨🪩✨🪩
It started by fighting for your life to get tickets.
Only to lose the great war.
You’d been in bed all day since you had attempted to get Era’s Tour tickets this morning. You were trying to get tickets for you and your friend - now ex-friend - only to find out she’d already agreed to go with someone else when you couldn’t get yours, leaving you both ticketless and friendless.
You were scrolling through your phone to see how many fans, that you followed on social media, managed to get tickets.
That was when your boyfriend came home.
“Y/N/N? I’m home!”
Harry always called out the same phrase whenever he stepped through the front door. Sometimes, he might have just been washing your car and he’ll announce himself again.
It was very comforting to have the little routine though.
“I’m up here!” You shouted back.
“Okay, one minute!”
You tried to hype yourself into behaving like a normal person, who wasn’t entirely crushed by not getting tickets to your favourite artist.
You sat up in bed and tried to make yourself look a little less distraught.
Harry walked into your shared bedroom a couple minutes later with a gift bag.
“Is that for me?”
“Wh… Not even a hello?” He pretended to be offended, whilst he rounded your side of the bed to sit next to you.
“I’m sorry. Shitty morning,” You smiled papologetically, “Hi.”
He graciously accepted your kiss that you offered as an apology.
Harry’s hand cupped your cheek afterwards, eyebrows furrowed as he searched your eyes for something.
“What was shitty?”
“I didn’t get Taylor tickets.” You frowned, but pretended to pass it off as nothing even though Harry knew you well enough to known it wasn’t.
“Hmm. I’m sorry, baby. That must’ve been horrible.” He kissed your cheek after letting it go.
“It was.” You flopped back on the bed.
“Wanna see what I got?”
“Sure.”
Harry reached into the bag and pulled out a t-shirt. It was a plain white T but you could see it was going to have a print on the front of it.
Harry unfolded it and smiled as he did, watching your reaction rather than the looking at his gift.
You were confused when you saw the print on the t-shirt, though.
In my swiftie boyfriend era.
And it was in the style of the t-shirt that Taylor wears for the Red portion of the Eras Tour.
You laughed, “Nice.”
“You like it?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. ‘Cause it’s what i’m going to wear when we go to the Eras Tour.” He smirked then, knowing that would prompt a reaction.
“What?!” You sat up quick.
“What?” Harry pretended to play dumb.
“Harry…” Your lips wobbled and eyes teared up as you processed his sentence.
“Are you upset you’ll have to go with me?” He smiled sympathetically at your tearful face.
“You actually got us tickets?”
“Yeah.”
You lunged for Harry then, tackling him down on the bed and pressing a kiss every 2 centimetres across his face.
You were both laughing, whilst you also crying happy tears, and Harry let you assault him with kisses as much as your heart was content. He did deserve them after all.
•-•
A week before the concert you were panicking.
“I don’t have a suitable outfit!”
You were running between your closet and your bedroom to show Harry possible options.
Currently you were in a sage green bralette and matching panties, in between changing outfits.
You came to stand at the foot of the bed, whilst Harry lay on your bed against the headboard and scrolling through his phone every few minutes for outfit inspiration.
“I like that outfit.” Harry said, smirking.
You picked up a rogue t-shirt that was on the bed, balled it up and threw it at him. “You’re disgusting.”
“What?! I’m just saying you look really good!” He defended himself.
“Okay.” You crossed your arms.
Harry put his phone to the side, stretching his arms behind his head and leaving them to rest there. In doing so, the muscles on his bare chest flexed and made you weak at the sight.
In only his boxers, Harry knew exactly what he was doing but so did you in your lingerie.
“So I should just go to the Eras like this?” You asked, unfolding your arms, bending slightly to press your hands onto the bed in front of you.
“Sure.” Harry said, less confident now.
“You’re okay with me parading around with little to nothing on,” You leant forward to allow yourself to crawl onto the bed, slowly moving forwards towards your awaiting boyfriend, “Showing off to everyone what’s yours.”
Harry tried his best not to move, but he didn’t have that much restraint.
Next thing you knew he had tackled you down onto the bed and rolled on top of you.
You breathed heavily as you awaited what he’d do next.
“Show off to anyone you like, babe, because at the end of the day I’m the only who actually gets to call you mine.”
And he started by kissing you, which made you forget all about your outfit dilemma for… well the rest of the day.
•-•
It was Eras day and you were so not ready.
You and Harry had taken the entire day off because you wanted a full swiftie experience and Harry would do anything to keep you happy.
You started getting ready in the afternoon, seeing as you didn’t need to be at the venue until 3PM and you lived only half an hour away.
Harry was currently ironing his trousers and tshirt, whilst you focused on your makeup.
“Babe?” You called.
“Yeah?”
“Remind me to bring that extra bag of bracelets.”
“It’s by the front door already, love.”
“M’kay!”
You bopped along to your Taylor playlist whilst applying some gems to your eyes to bejewel yourself. You had one opportunity to make this the greatest swiftie experience of you life and you were taking it.
You’d decided to go for a general western theme for your outfit, seeing as you loved all the eras too much to choose one.
The bohemian inspired dress you were wearing was white and you had your beaten brown cowboy boots to go with it. So your accessories had to make up for your plain’ish outfit.
The gems you were applying were silver to match your sliver jewellery.
Harry then appeared behind you in the mirror.
He stood there and smiled at you for a few moments.
“What?” You blushed.
“You look so pretty.” He said, admiring you through the mirror.
“You think?”
“I know.”
He came up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and kissing your neck.
You closed your eyes as you enjoyed this moment.
Just you and Harry enjoying each others presence and being so close to one another was a feeling second to none.
As you closed your eyes you couldn’t imagine being with anyone else in this moment but him.
“I love you.” He whispered against your neck, causing you to goosebump everywhere.
“I love you too.”
You turned to look at him, before leaning in to kiss him like he deserved.
He welcomed the kiss, cupping the back of your neck to keep you there, kissing him, for a few extra seconds than you’d intended.
When he pulled back he checked to make sure he’d not ruined your makeup.
“Put some gems on me?” He asked.
You smiled, “Okay.”
Harry moved to sit on the toilet lid, whilst you got your self-adhesive gem stickers ready.
You stood in between his legs, Harry gripping the back of your thighs to keep you there as if you’d just slip away otherwise.
“What colour?”
“Don’t know. Whatever you think is best.” He leaned forwards to kiss the bare skin between your bra and your sports leggings.
“Behave.” You warned, pushing his head away.
“I can’t when it comes to you.” He smirked up at you.
You blushed, can’t believing that he still made you blush even after all this time, before grabbing the gems and getting to work.
You applied some silver ones, the same as yours, to the corner of his outer eyes. “Just two?”
“Yeah, thank you baby.”
“Now you look so pretty.” You kissed the top of his head like he was your baby.
“Thank you.” It was his turn to blush.
“Now give me ten more minutes and I’ll be ready.”
“Okay.” He stood up, leaning down to give you a parting kiss.
•-•
Just before you left the house, you made sure Harry had his bracelets on.
“No, I want you to wear this one.”
You took ahold of his hand and slid the bracelet on.
“Out of style.” Harry read the bracelet with a small laugh.
“You need all of the Style ones, okay? Only trade with people who have got 1989 bracelets.”
“I know, I know!”
You had so many on your arms and they were slightly cutting off your blood circulation, but it was so worth it.
Harry had a lot less on, but you also knew people would be desperately throwing their bracelets at him without wanting anything in returning just to be able to say they gave Harry Styles a friendship bracelet.
“Okay, ready to go?”
“I am if you are, m’love.”
“Then let me give you one last thing!”
You reached into your bag and pulled out another bracelet, this one you had spent precious time making.
“What’s this?” Harry asked as he took it from you.
Blue and white beads made the colours of the bracelet, whilst there were also some tiny moon charms and stars too because Harry always wished upon them.
Because he wished so hard, one of them had actually come true.
“Wait… Love, this says…”
“Mhm.” You watched as his eyes filled with tears and his hand holding the bracelet shook.
“Dad to be.” He read out the words wrapped around the bracelet so softly, like he couldn’t understand it yet:
You reached your hand around the back of his head, scratching the scruff on the back of his neck how he liked whenever he was emotional.
“You okay?” You asked with a smile, tearing up yourself over his soft reaction.
“I’m gonna be a dad.”
“Yeah, baby. You are.”
“We’re gonna be parents…” He looked at you and noticed you were as tearful as him.
He immediately put on the bracelet, before putting that hand on your stomach to feel whether he could notice a difference. Not so much yet, but just knowing his child was happily growing there made him want to cry all over.
“I know. It’s crazy.”
“I need to google how to change a nappy.” He made a joke, licking his lips as tears fell around his mouth.
“We’ve got time.”
And you kissed him before he could worry any more and make you miss the Eras…
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfic#ask finelinevogue#harry blurb#finelinevogue#harry styles concept#harry oneshot#harry styles blurbs#harry styles taylor swift#eras tour fic#harry styles concert fic
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Entry 9: The One Where You Choose Your Own Brazilian Adventure
My planned post – the “In Dedication of JVN” one where I fangirl over Jonathan Van Ness and what a fun and interesting piece of the Lukola puzzle he is – was derailed today because I was once again asked about Brazil. Well, more specifically, I was asked about whether I thought we were ever going to get those steamy, hopefully X-rated pictures, from Brazil. There’s pictures?!
In truth, I thought we’d collectively squeezed that grapefruit dry and left the rind somewhere between Italy and the Glamour Awards.
Alas, here I am writing about Brazil.
It’s funny because I’ve never thought much about Brazil. I know, I know! How could I possibly type those words without my nose growing six inches in front of my face? Well, it’s because it was always Australia that intrigued me. More on that later…
So why exactly do we believe there are pictures from Brazil? And, why do we think they are going to prove some kind of hot affair between Luke and Nicola? This theory is likely fueled by rumor; rumor born from how Luke and Nicola behaved towards each other while they were in Brazil.
I thought it would be fun to play a little game of “Choose Your Own Adventure” to determine if we’re ever going to see these alleged pictures. And, yes, I will be a very sarcastic bitch when doing this.
Before I start, though, I want to give a quick shout out to my dear friend, whom I shall call The-One-Who-Drops-Random-Pics-Into-Our-Group-Chat-and-Lets-Us-Sweat-Over-Them-for-Atleast-Three-Minutes-Before-Finally-Explaining-Them. She was a wealth of information about Brazil and even had a nice mother-daughter chat with me about the significance of a clean-shaven face (pardon me for never having dated a bearded man, which is odd because I find facial hair quite attractive).
Now, gather ‘round and I shall give you a little prologue to our adventure!
I’m sure most of you already know all about Brazil. In fact, many of you are probably self-described experts at this point. But, for those who are new here, let me go ahead and light the candles and set the ambiance for you.
On May 19, Luke and Nicola were shuttled off to do their beach photoshoot in Brazil. You know, the one where Nicola was walking the dogs; Luke was strumming the guitar; Nicola was being all girlfriend-like fixing Luke’s jacket; Luke was gazing up at Nicola at the pub while she was touching his neck; and then there was that moment when we all thought they might kiss. Yeah, all that plus Luke’s scruffy face from the week prior suddenly appeared clean-shaven. Apparently, you can never be too “Casual” when you’re headed down south (pun intended – as was that Chappell Roan reference). And, about now is where I’ll “insert disclaimer that this is speculation only.”
The following day, we had the actual premiere. I’m not sure what those two were up to before the premiere but both were un-fucking-hinged by the time they made it to the red carpet. We had angel-face Nicola looking up at Luke like he had created the universe and Luke answering Nicola’s Little Red Riding Hood vibe with one sexy ass Big Bad Wolf persona. I mean, the bits and bobs that came out of Luke’s mouth that day! “There’s a carriage downstairs.” “I mean, in this heat, all I’m thinking about is when we didn’t have to wear clothes ‘cos that would be quite nice right now.” “I mean the show is proof that it is [okay to kiss your friends].” With Nicola whispering back, “This is true.” Then there was Luke taking that mic without taking his eyes off Nicola. We had Luke helping Nicola put on her bracelets because – God forbid! – she let go of him for 30 seconds to do it her fucking self. And, let’s not forget about the two of them holding on to each other behind that woman’s back (I’m sorry, I don’t recall her name and I’m too lazy to look it up – mainly, because I’m certain most of you don’t really care about that other woman).
We were also given snippets of Luke and Nicola at the premiere afterparty, looking like two people who, at a minimum, enjoyed each other’s company. They greeted fans outside the venue and, as they walked away together, Nicola seemingly put her hand on Luke’s lower back as if to guide him in the right direction (go ahead – let your imagination run wild – it’s a great opening for a FanFic).
Then, throw in the beach walk with the giant security guard; the interview where Nicola was wearing the fluffy pink skirt and the two of them talked about Chappell Roan’s “Kaleidoscope” (seriously, those two were listening to that song together?); Nicola couldn’t stop giggling about the “meat” of the Carriage Scene; and Luke appeared perhaps a smidge too interested in Nicola’s answer about what she looks for in a man (which fit perfectly into Luke’s “Like, how nice is it when someone notices, like, your kindness or your sense of humor?”). And, we can’t ignore them seemingly sharing a tea cup and Luke reaching for Nicola’s spoon after she’d sampled a dish. Don’t even get me started on over-analyzing Luke’s “manspread” that day.
Let’s also not forget about the rumor portion of this Brazilian escapade – because that is what fuels the sexy hot pictures theory and the central plot of our storied adventure.
Rumor has it Luke and Nicola spent a lot of time with each in Brazil.
By themselves.
In one or the other’s room.
On the beach.
By the pool.
There were also rumors of them making out in the hotel hallway.
The only evidence we have of any “alone time” are some pictures that were dumped on X of them dining together alone, without any other members of their team.
Now that the backdrop has been set, let’s go on my little adventure.
During the summer between my 7th and 8th grade years, I was bored out of my mind. I grew up in the countryside. No neighbors. No sidewalks. No cable! Just fields, wooded areas, and my two sisters, both of whom had no interest in entertaining me that summer. My mother suggested I read. After boredom had dug itself so far into my being that I was left with no choice but to read, I finally ventured over to the bookshelf and grabbed the thinnest book I could find. It was a “Choose Your Own Adventure.”
If you don’t know what a “Choose Your Own Adventure” book is, then you (and your children) are missing out. Basically, you play the role of the protagonist and make choices to determine the outcome of your story. Sometimes you make the right choice and survive; other times you make the wrong choice and get turned into a little mouse that may or may not be eaten by a cat.
Here we go.
As the protagonist of our story, you are:
THE EMPLOYEE
You’re an employee of the hotel Nicola and Luke stayed at while in Brazil. You have sworn to maintain the privacy of hotel guests; you’ve signed a non-disclosure agreement of sorts to protect the privacy of guests, especially since you have access to VIP areas. You can be a housekeeper, a watchman, a concierge, a seven-foot-tall security guard, whatever tickles your fancy. Doesn’t matter – you’re all bound by the same provisions to protect the privacy of the hotel’s guests. But, in this story, let’s say you’re the housekeeper because – what’s that old saying – the only person who knows everything going on in the house is the maid?
You’re cleaning Nicola’s room and you find lots of signs of a man being in the room. In fact, you find a coat that looks exactly like the one Luke was wearing the night of the premiere. Oh my. As you’re leaving, you see two people making out in the hallway – headed straight towards the room you’re just leaving! It looks like Nicola and Luke. What do you do?
Choice A: Well, you’re a pervy housekeeper so you pull your phone out and start taking pictures. I mean, those two are so into each other, they don’t even notice. You then run and play show-and-tell with your friends because you can’t keep a damn secret. Unfortunately for you, that gossip spreads faster than lice in a preschool, and hotel management tracks your ass down because, guess what, your friends can’t keep a secret either. So, congratulations on being fired. You’re meeting with the lawyers is first thing in the morning. Oh, we also need your phone and the names of all your friends.
Choice B: You respect the privacy of Nicola and Luke and simply turn and walk the opposite direction. Taking photos of them never even crossed your mind! But, damn, what a good story to tell your bestie when you get home, even if you don’t have “receipts.”
THE VIP GUEST
You’re a random guest staying at the hotel. In fact, you’re a random VIP guest staying on the same floor as Nicola and Luke. When you checked in, you signed a non-disclosure agreement. I mean, you want your privacy protected, too! And, heck, NDAs are thrown out like candy these days. You’ve seen so many at this point, you don’t even bother to read them.
You take the elevator up to your floor and, as you step into the hallway, you’re confronted with – goddammit, there’s two motherfuckers all over each other! The guy is trying to slide his key into the door, but the woman’s dress is so awkwardly large, he can’t seem to find the right slot! You realize the people look a lot like those two stars from Bridgerton, and your best friend, Effie, is a huge fan! What do you do?
Choice A: You can’t believe Effie is missing out on this excitement so, of course, you pull your phone out and start taking pictures!! I mean, that NDA you signed didn’t even cross your mind three minutes later when you were forwarding the pictures to Effie! And, because you can’t control what Effie does, she forwards the pictures to all her Bridgie buddies. The next morning you awaken to find the pictures all over X. Oopsie. You feel slightly guilty, and a bit peeved at Effie – but only until you’ve had your morning coffee.
Choice B: You take people’s privacy very seriously. Well, maybe you don’t take it that seriously, but it would be too difficult to dig your phone out of your handbag to take pictures. And, to be honest, Effie is the huge fan, not you. Plus, it seems the guy finally got that door open and damn, based on the sounds of it, he's unlocked something magical. Oh well. You’ll call Effie in the morning to tell her your story, if you remember it.
THE RANDOM STRANGER
You’re a random stranger taking an evening stroll along the beach. You love the sound of the ocean. It’s so peaceful…the sound of the waves… Ugh, what is that noise?! It sounds like – shit, it is! – two people snogging in a cabana about 10 yards away from you. Wait a minute – is that? Yeah, you think it could be! I mean, you were just at the Bridgerton premiere last night! What do you do? Without hesitation, you pull out your phone!
Choice A: You creep behind an umbrella and zoom in as close as possible with your camera! I mean, shite! You can’t believe this! How long have you been filming? Probably longer than necessary but who cares? Suddenly, you feel a presence behind you, perhaps a seven-foot-tall presence, and you slowly turn around. Fuck! Who’s this guy?! He takes your phone, drops it to the ground, and stomps on it, shattering its insides. Asshole. You bend down to pick up the phone, but the man taps your shoulder and shakes his head, “No.” Well, umm, yeah, I guess you best be leaving.
Choice B: You use your camera to zoom in on the couple. Snap! Snap! Snap! Then you get the FUCK OUT OF THERE! You tell yourself you don’t look suspicious at all, even though you’re practically running and your heart is about to pound its way out of your chest! Oh, thank God, you’ve made it to your car. You start it up and, like I said, YOU GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE! You get home and take a look at the photos! Goldmine! So, should you drop them on X? Maybe be a little see-you-next-Tuesday and try to sell them to Nicola or Luke’s teams? But, hell, you don’t even know where to start with that! Or, should you just pocket them for your own pleasure? You tell me….
The End.
Yes, I am absolutely being a facetious little ass! The above scenarios were for (the most part) my own entertainment. I mean, there are so many situations where these alleged pictures could exist (these playful ones don’t even scratch the surface). But, do the pictures exist?
If we’re being logical here, you would think that, if anyone in the general public were in possession of these alleged sexy-time pictures of Luke and Nicola, or had seen them, it would be all over social media at this point. I mean, ALL OVER. So, what can we deduce from the fact that they aren’t?
That the pictures probably don’t exist. Don’t shoot the messenger! Seriously, watch where you point that thing!
But, let’s say pictures did exist. Who is the most likely person to dump them on, say, X? The hotel employee, the VIP guest, or the random stranger? I would place money on the random stranger, followed by the VIP guest. The hotel employee, who probably has the most access to VIP guests but the strongest legal barriers, would be the least likely to photo dump. What is the likelihood that someone from one of these three groups – for example, a random stranger – (a) had pictures of Luke and Nicola, (b) didn’t drop them on social media, and/or (c) didn’t share them with someone who dropped them on social media?
I’m all for a good conspiracy theory but I find this one to be a hard pill to swallow.
Maybe one person can act as a lockbox for this kind of secret, but when you start including more people, the ability to keep something (like illicit photographs of two celebrities) out of the public eye diminishes rapidly.
Remember what Benjamin Franklin said, “Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead.”
Unfortunately, this quote is incredibly accurate. The general public cannot keep secrets.
If the pictures exist, they are most likely in the possession of Luke and/or Nicola’s team (of lawyers). So, unless they’re going to sneak them on to X for giggles (I mean, it’s been known to happen), you’re probably never going to see them – and that’s assuming they even exist.
However, if you’re the housekeeper from our first adventure and you happen to have some candid photographs you’re just dying to share, just find yourself a printer – one that cannot easily be linked back to you – and print them out. Then, “accidently” drop them at the feet of someone who knows exactly what they are, and then give them enough time to take their own photos of them and send them to their best friend’s brother’s sister-in-law’s third cousin’s wife’s neighbor, who could drop them on X for us. I mean, you should be golden with seven degrees of separation.
#lukola#luke newton#nicola coughlan#my thoughts#my opinion#speculation only#just me being ridiculous
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When Shen Yuan transmigrates in his definitely-not-favorite novel, he’s ecstatic. Sure, dying sucked, but he got a second chance! In a body that looked exactly like his, only healthy and with a perfectly good golden core, too!
He’s a rouge cultivator now, with a cool sword, enough money, long-ass hair and zero actual responsibilities!
So, all in all, Shen Yuan hit a jackpot. He travels, makes notes of monsters he sees and sometimes fights, collects rare herbs and flowers and feels just great.
He feels decidedly less great, when after defeating a Six Eyed Spider Viper in some nameless, remote village, he receives a bride as a payment. It shockes him into a stupor for long enough for the villagers to think he actually agreed, so as soon as he can talk again, he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind:
“This one is already married!”
It doesn’t work as well as he hoped.
“So Nie Rong can be a second wife.” An auntie, possibly Nie Rong’s mother, waves her hand dismissively at him.
“No, no,” Shen Yuan scrambles. “This one wasn’t being clear enough. This one is not in position to take wives! He is- is, uh.”
“Master is a wife?” Nie Rong chrips, her cheeks reddened.
“Uh. Sure. Yeah.” Shen Yuan would like to leave the village immediately. A thrill of defeating a cool fucking monster wasn’t even worth the embarrassment!
“Master’s husband must be quite powerful to get such a cultivator as a wife.” One of the villagers says, eyes glinting with suspicion. “Who’s he?”
“This one’s husband is indeed very powerful.” Shen Yuan squeezes out of himself, taking a step back. “Very possessive, too.”
“How come he lets his husband travel so far?”
“Oh! It’s easy, really. This one’s husband’s harem is big enough to slip away for a week or two!”
An agitated murmur passes through the small crowd. Shen Yuan sighs, feeling the control of the situation slipping through his fingers.
“He doesn’t sound like a very good husband.” One of the aunties says. “Maybe you should divorce him and marry our Rong-er after all.”
“This one’s husband is not someone one just divorces.” Shen Yuan takes another step back. “Thanking everyone for kind words, but-"
“Oh.” Nie Rong says, eyes downcast. “It’s the Emperor, isn’t it? That’s why Daozhang can’t leave?”
“Yes!” Shen Yuan yelps before he can really think. “So you can see how the situation is difficult for this one.”
It’s a shit solution to a problem. Might be the worst, actually. But then again, Luo Binghe would never know and Shen Yuan gets a perfect excuse if something similar ever happens again.
And it does happen. Quite too often, if Shen Yuan is honest — shouldn’t all the girls belong to the protagonist anyway?!
So, Shen Yuan uses his perfect excuse: No, he cannot marry your pretty little daughter, he’s an Emperor Luo’s husband. And: No, fellow rouge cultivator, he will not share your bed, he’s spoken for!
Everything works without a hitch, until one day Shen Yuan walks into an inn where he’s been staying for last couple of days and comes face to face with the Emperor of Combined Realms, Lord Luo himself.
Shit.
#oops!!#is that fun?#do we want a second part?#lmk!#svsss#shen yuan#luo binghe#svsss ficlet#svsss fic rec#svsss au#svsss fanfiction#bingqiu
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too little, too late
(8x08 coda) (buddie) (1.2k) the episode chose violence and so did i :) spoilers for 8x08, and hey, guess what? this is my 100th 911 fic! it feels right that it's an evil one <3
The real estate agent has an irritating voice. It’s pitchy and run through with vocal fry, and if Buck has to listen to her talk for another second, he might actually tear his hair out. And it’s definitely about her voice. Nothing to do with the largely helpful information she’s handing over to Eddie like candy on Halloween.
“Anyway, we can touch base again once you’ve had a chance to look over those listings. I’m sure we’ll find something for both of you to love!” the realtor says.
Buck smiles. It feels brittle and fake.
“Thank you so much,” Eddie says with all the sincerity Buck can’t quite muster. He ends the call and sits back against the couch.
“That, uh—that went, um—” He’s choking on the positivity he’s trying so hard to exude. “—well,” he manages.
“Yeah,” Eddie says. He runs a hand through his hair. “Seems easier than I thought it was going to be.”
Easy.
That’s—
Yeah.
“You know you—you don’t have to buy straight away,” Buck says as casually as he can manage, which is to say, not casually at all.
“Buck,” Eddie says with a sigh.
“I know!” Buck says, throwing his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “Just—maybe you want to make sure, you know? Before it’s—it’s permanent.”
“I can’t keep missing out on his life,” Eddie says quietly.
Buck swallows. He knows. He knows! Knows it like he knows there’s going to be an Eddie-and-Chris shaped hole in his heart for the rest of his goddamn life.
“I don’t want you to,” Buck says, and it’s maybe the first honest thing that’s come out of his mouth since he sat down on Eddie’s couch.
Bile rises in the back of his throat as he realizes this might be one of the last times he gets to sit on this couch, in this house, with this man.
Eddie drops his head into his hands. “I don’t—” He cuts himself off.
“Have you told Bobby yet?” Buck asks. His breath catches.
“No,” Eddie says.
“Oh,” Buck says in a rush of air. “That’s—” He wants to say good. He can’t say good. Eddie needs—he needs—
Eddie lifts his head from his hands and his eyes are shining. “I don’t want to,” he admits. “I thought—”
“That he’d want to come back,” Buck supplies when Eddie doesn’t finish his thought.
He nods.
“He still—he could still—” Buck starts.
“He’s not going to change his mind.” Eddie cuts him off. “He doesn’t hate me. It’s worse than that. He doesn’t care.”
Buck’s chest feels tight. “He—he loves you, Eddie,” he says weakly.
“Maybe before, but—”
“He does,” Buck insists. “And—and if this is what you have to do to make sure that stays true I—I get it.” He does. He gets it. He’d do anything for Christopher. He’d—
It’s the worst feeling in the entire fucking world, but he’d give up Eddie for that kid. Is. Is giving up Eddie for that kid. A sob jumps up in Buck’s throat. He fights it back.
“I want to believe you,” Eddie says.
Buck knows that he doesn’t.
“Have you, um. Have you talked to Chris about this yet?” Buck asks, feeling a little bit like he’s just laid his neck across the base of a guillotine.
Eddie shakes his head. “No, I—I’ve got to do this, whether he wants me to or not.”
All at once Buck’s angry. Angry at Eddie, angry at his parents, at fucking Kim, at himself, and maybe even a little bit at Christopher.
“Eddie, you—you told him he could come back!” He says, a little louder than he means to. “Doesn’t he deserve to know that’s not going to be an option anymore?”
Eddie’s gaze snaps to his. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He’s got—he’s got friends here, and—and Carla, and—” He can’t say it. He doesn’t have the right to say it, doesn’t have the right to feel like he’s already lost a limb and now they’re taking a lung, but— “and me,” he finishes quietly.
Something like devastation flashes across Eddie’s face. “Buck, I—”
“No,” Buck says quickly, standing up from the couch. “I shouldn’t have—I’m not—”
“Buck, wait,” Eddie says, following him as he retreats toward the door.
“I, um—I forgot, I have to—I promised Maddie,” he tries to lie.
“Please don’t go,” Eddie says, and god, how many times in Buck’s life has he yearned to hear someone say that to him and mean it. How many nights has he driven home from Eddie’s wishing he’d been asked to stay.
This thing building in his chest, this thing of anger and grief and regret—it hurts. Every breath he takes is a little more constricted, a little less effective.
Eddie looks at him, and Buck sees it. That thing he’s always wanted to see. That thing he didn’t even know he wanted from Eddie until right now and it’s—
There was a small, naïvely hopeful part of Buck that really still believe that if someone loved him enough, they’d stay. Eddie loves him, looks at Buck like he’ll break his heart when he walks out the door, and it still isn’t—
Eddie loves him, and it isn’t enough to make him stay.
Buck is in love with him, he realizes, and it doesn’t fucking matter because he’s leaving. Like Abby and like Tommy, except Buck didn’t know how much hurt he hadn’t even discovered yet, because this isn’t Abby or Tommy, it’s Eddie, and Eddie—
Eddie’s supposed to be the one that stays.
Buck shakes his head and shuffles back until the doorknob is digging into his spine. “I have to,” he breathes, a grossly distorted reflection of what neither of them has quite managed to say.
Eddie opens his mouth like he’s going to ask again, like he’s going to beg Buck to stay, to show him all these awful pieces of his heart that he’s just found so he can remind himself that it’s not too much to leave behind.
Buck’s out the door before he can say another word.
He throws himself into the Jeep and all but fishtails it out of Eddie’s driveway. He makes it three streets away before he has to pull over.
The first sob surprises him with its softness; the second with its violence. He wraps his arms tight around his stomach and, god, he tries to breathe. But there’s not—there’s not enough oxygen in the entire world to make up for the way his lungs refuse to expand in the face of this loss.
He has to—he can’t—Eddie needs him to pull it together. To—to help him. To support him, and god help him, Buck will. There’s nothing Eddie could ask of him that he wouldn’t give. Nothing Eddie could do, Buck’s realizing, to make him love him any less.
Hot tears spill down Buck’s cheeks. He takes a shuddering breath and wipes them away. His vital organs are crumbling, so what?
He’ll set himself on fire if that’s what it takes to keep Eddie warm.
#911fic#911 fic#buddiefic#buddie fic#911#buddie#fic#911 spoilers#coda#abbie writes#abbie commits to the torture nexus <3#i have lighthearted ideas but that's for Later
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Hiii Author :D this is actually my first request, but could I ask for homocipher (especially my bb MR Crawling 🥺) when you kiss them for the first time pls and thank u 🙏
Mr Crawling
Sweet boy is giggling, blushing and kicking his long ass legs after staying unsettlingly silent for five minutes.
He’s on cloud nine the moment you pressed your warm lips against his as sweetly as you did. He didn’t know what that thing you were doing exactly, kissing was a foreign concept to him but all he knows is that he wants you to do it again and again for eternity.
Kissing this cutie is a little sloppy when he’s trying to imitate you, but you can’t get mad at him when he’s smiling and giggling in happiness that he got to reciprocate the happiness you give him.
Seriously this man has become ten times more clingy as he’s smothering you in hugs while chirping and purring in your ear, nuzzling his face against your own.
Mr crawling will double, no triple you in affection and you’re legally not allowed to move until he’s done kissing every inch of your face and neck. He just wants to make you happy and if kissing is one way to do it then Mr Crawling will do it continuously and it’ll never get old.
He will honour the kiss forever and ever and ever.
Mr Scarletella
Captain of the S.S Delusional over here.
You’re not helping his obsession with you. Not one bit after kissing him lightly as now he fully thinks this is you accepting his love and affection, letting him inside your heart as your one and only.
So have fun trying to get him off your back when he’s muttering shit like ‘mine. Love. Mine. Love. Mine. Love’ under his breath as he towers over you as you realised that this man was near inescapable.
And I mean he’s inescapable the moment you gave him that innocent little kiss on his lips. He’s smiling to himself as he runs his fingertips over his lips, still feeling your own there as his mind creates scenarios where your sat in his lap, kissing him to your hearts content and confessing your love for him.
So if you thought he was bad before, he’s fucking worse now and there’s little chance of escaping him. So good luck with all that, you will need it.
He won’t do anything to his lips in fear he’d wipe your kiss away, he’s savouring it and has the memory framed in his head as his most precious moment.
Mr Silvair
Kissing is a concept he’s not privy to and so he’s seeing this as a potential experiment he could delve into deeper.
All for science is the motto for this dude I’m afraid. Mr Silvair doesn’t feel much outside of that and an occasional warmth that he pushes aside frequently.
He’ll probably ask you to do it again, not because he wanted you to but because he’s curious as to how each and every kiss feels, believing that each one has a different meaning behind them. He’d might even indulge in what sort of stimuli could trigger you to made such a bold move on your own accord.
So to him it wouldn’t mean as much as it would for you unfortunately but that’s not going to stop him from asking for more kisses, and or creating scenarios where kissing him was the ultimate goal, and all for science experimentation.
Totally not to satiate the need to feel the warmth those kisses gave him if only briefly. 👀👀
Mr Gap
This dude doesn’t want a kiss, he wants your heart and not in the romantic sense.
You kissing him felt weird and he didn’t know whether to like it or hate it. So he mostly stays indifferent.
Seriously he’ll experience the kiss, scrunch his face up and still ask for your heart. Affection doesn’t exist within this dude at the slightest, and if it did it’s not by very much at all.
So kissing him wouldn’t exactly do much and he wouldn’t bother to reciprocate either, he’s still as fuck too so you might as well be kissing a stone statue.
Seriously. I’m not joking. I wish I was but I’m not.
#homicipher#homicipher imagine#homicipher imagines#homicipher x you#homicipher x reader#mr crawling imagine#mr crawling imagines#mr crawling x y/n#mr crawling x you#mr crawling x reader#mr crawling#mr silvair x reader#mr silvair x you#mr silvair#mr silvair imagines#mr silvair imagine#mr scarletella#mr scarletella x reader#mr scarletella imagine#mr scarlettella x you#mr scarletella imagines#mr gap x reader#mr gap x you#mr gap
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Forgotten Thing : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen
summary: you know just how busy max is, and you understood too, only now you're starting to feel like the forgotten thing in his life
The sound of light snores greeted you as you walked into the apartment, unable to stop your eyes from rolling. Your heart raced as you slipped your shoes off, dropping your bag to the ground with a loud thud, not caring about the figure asleep in your living room.
“Max,” you called out, standing to the side of the sofa with your arms folded across your chest.
The sound of your voice had him stirring, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. A smile was on his face for a moment until Max noticed how nice you looked, eyes going wide in horror when he remembered that he had promised to pick you up from work.
“That was a lovely walk home,” you sarcastically told him, taking a seat on the end of the sofa, “at least you got some rest though, that’s what matters, right?”
The frustration was clear in your voice as you found yourself let down by Max again. It was becoming a pretty normal feeling for you, to be given empty promises and assured of things that you knew that Max wouldn’t be able to follow through.
“Don’t be mad, please,” Max asked of you, sitting himself up. “I only planned on closing my eyes for a few minutes, and then I just lost track of time. I mean, all you had to do was walk home from work, it’s hardly the most difficult job in the world.
Your head shook at how dismissive Max was. “The walk home didn’t bother me Max, it’s the fact that you promised you’d be there. You keep promising and not delivering, it’s like I’m some forgotten, unimportant part of your life.”
Max brushed his hands over his face as he tried to wake himself up, not quite understanding what you were so fed up about. “I’ve been so busy at work recently I obviously just needed the sleep. We can’t all have a job like yours, some of us are working nonstop.”
“I see, because my job is a walk in the park, isn’t it?” You scoffed.
You couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing from Max, he’d always seemed to be supportive, but now you weren’t so sure. It was like the two of you were in competition, with Max clearly feeling like he was winning.
“It’s not the same, how hard I work and how hard you work is very different. I’ve got a flight to catch early tomorrow morning and you’ve got the next two days off, so I’d say I’m slightly more important,” Max argued.
Your mouth went wide in shock, letting go of a gasp. You didn’t recognise the man in front of you, the man who usually was so caring and sympathetic had turned into someone who couldn’t care less about you.
“I’ve always looked after you Max, done absolutely anything for you. It’s a shame you can’t do the same for me. I might as well just leave, that’s how you make me feel,” you spoke.
Max’s eyes widened once again, his body tensing up. You stood up, feeling Max's eyes watching your every move, slowly backing towards the front door.
“You wouldn’t actually leave,” Max sniggered.
“Why not? What is there to make me stay anymore?” You challenged, your voice getting louder. “Why shouldn’t I go somewhere where I actually feel valued and appreciated rather as if I’m nothing.”
“Love,” Max whispered, brushing a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel that way, it’s just been so hard for the past couple of weeks. I really did intend on picking you up, I set an alarm and everything, but I must’ve just slept right through it.”
“If you were tired or stressed Max, you should’ve told me, I’d never have expected you to pick me up if I knew,” you sighed, walking back into the room again.
“But you’re right, I do keep making promises that I can’t keep, so I wanted to pick you up to prove to you that I care.” Max tapped the space beside him on the sofa, inviting you to sit beside him as his hand rested against your leg.
“I know that you care about me,” you assured him.
Max’s head shook, “but I’ve not shown you that, when you’re constantly here caring for me, I just take it for granted, we’re supposed to care for each other.”
You smiled weakly across at Max, knowing better than anyone just how hard he worked. For all his faults, you could never fault how loved he made you feel, even if his mind was elsewhere sometimes. Your hand reached out and pressed against the side of his face, lips pressing against his cheek, unaware of the way Max’s heart raced with relief at the feeling of your lips on him.
“If you’re free this weekend, do you fancy coming to the race?” Max asked you, “I’ll make sure that we can spend some time together when I’m not needed at the garage. We can explore, have a proper look around.”
Your head nodded at his suggestion, excited by the thought of being at a race again. It had been a while, you were never quite sure if Max wanted you there or not, but now he couldn’t imagine himself going to the race without you.
“You don’t need to do this, I know how hard race weekends are,” you assured him, squeezing against his hand, “I don’t need anything to be made up to me.”
“But you do,” Max defended, knowing just how badly he’d treated you. “I want to make sure you know that I care, I’m going to make sure that we have the best weekend together too.”
Max moved his free arm around your frame as he pulled you into his side, pressing several gentle kisses against the top of your head. The hold he had on you was more loving than anything you’d felt from him in a while, letting you know just how sorry he was.
Once he was done, Max kept his head resting on top of yours. “Whatever you want to do whilst we’re there this weekend, we’ll do. I’ll even drive you around and pick you up from the paddock.”
“Max,” you whispered, but he quickly shushed you, knowing what you were about to say.
“Don’t tell me that you understand that it’s alright, because it’s not,” he laughed, reading your mind perfectly. “I’ve been a terrible boyfriend and that needs to be put right.”
“I do understand, you work so hard.”
“And so do you,” Max responded, “I never should’ve made it sound like your job doesn’t matter, because it does, you’re the hardest working person I know. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologising,” you grinned, pressing your head further into Max’s side, “I know how sorry you are Max.”
A hum came from him as he leant back on the sofa, cuddling you into his side as he draped his legs over the top of yours.
“Let’s sleep for a bit,” you suggested, placing your hand on his chest, “I know how much better you sleep when you’ve got someone to cuddle.”
Max nodded in agreement with you, “you can’t be telling anyone how much I love being cuddled to sleep, people won’t think I’m cool anymore.”
“Leave me stranded at work again and I might just reveal all your secrets,” you teased.
“You wouldn’t,” Max challenged, watching your head nod out of the corner of his eye.
“You wouldn’t want to find out.”
��ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#f1 imagine#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 reaction#formula one#max verstappen drabble#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#formula one x you#formula x reader#formula 1 drabble#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 drabble#f1 fluff#f1 x you
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caught in bloom, caught on you | xu minghao
SYNOPSIS. in which you find yourself becoming a regular𑁋or perhaps more than that𑁋at minghao's flower shop. PAIRING. florist!xu minghao x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, a pinch of angst, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers WARNINGS. hao basically falls in love at first sight HAHA, mild cursing, implied that yn lost someone close to them, a lot of yearning n pining, kissing WORD COUNT. 8.3k
notes: wheeboo is NOT in their short-ish fic era anymore and is in their long-ish fic era rn 😭 anyway,, i didnt have a title for the fic until hao posted his song on his birthday so... I hope u all enjoy?? this might be one of my faves haha
Minghao likes these kinds of days.
Thin, irregular shapes of cotton drift lazily across the endless blue embrace of the skies. The afternoon sun carries warmth in its hands that he could feel right through the glass windows of his flower shop. It's almost as if the season of summer itself is breathing through his shop, softly encouraging his little garden to reach for the light.
Minghao runs his slender fingers through the cool edges of a hydrangea, its soft petals a deep shade of prismarine.
Ever since he was younger, his mother had told him that flowers weren't just things to be cared for. They were companions, your friends if you'd let them be, each blooming with all different kinds of personalities.
He likes how the flowers didn't ask for much; they simply needed patience and care, and in return, they gave him a sense of peace that he couldn't find anywhere else.
The sudden chime of the bell pulls him from his thoughts. He straightens up, wiping his hands on the apron tied loosely around his waist, and glances toward the door.
The figure the walks through the door is unfamiliar, yet it's easy to catch the way the sunlight highlights the edges of your silhouette, almost like a halo as you step inside the shop. For a moment, Minghao is simply taken aback by the quiet grace of your entrance, the way the afternoon light seems to favour you.
Your gaze circles around the shop, taking in the rows of flowers with a soft curiosity. There's some sort of quiet hesitation in your movements when you take a few more tentative steps inside, as if you're trying to find the right place to be in this space, just as much as you're trying to find the right flower.
Minghao finds himself clearing his throat, drawing a polite smile across his lips and catching your attention right away.
"Good afternoon," he greets calmly. "Can I help you with something today?"
You glance up at him, a slight surprise in your eyes before they soften.
"Hi, um... Yeah, I was actually looking to see if I could buy some flowers. The shop I went to before closed down, so I've been searching for a new place. It was a bit of a drive." Then you hesitate briefly, before continuing, "I'm not sure what to look for exactly, but something for a first date would be nice."
Minghao's heart stirs a bit disappointingly at that, though he quickly suppresses the feeling away. After all, it's just flowers, and you're simply here to buy them for someone else.
He nods thoughtfully, giving a soft, understanding look.
"Ah, well. Congratulations first of all on the date," he says calmly, though the nerves itches his fingers. "A first date is always special, isn't it?"
"They are," You reply sheepishly, and the hint of a blush to your cheeks nearly resembles the colour of the roses displayed near the window.
"Is there a specific kind of vibe you're going for?" Minghao asks. "I can help you pick something that feels right."
You pause for a moment, eyes lingering on a beautifully-painted vase. "Hmm, I think... something romantic, but not too traditional, if that makes sense? Not something too cliché, you know, but I also want it to feel special."
Minghao simply hums in response, his mind sifting through the variety of options he could think of. There's this odd sense of responsibility within him to make your choice is beyond perfect.
"Roses are always a classic," he begins. "but they're quite conventional, so..."
He can sense you following closely to him as he walks toward another part of the shop.
"These are tulips," Minghao explains, gesturing to a row of soft, voluminous blooms in shades of pale pink and coral. "They're not commonly picked like roses, but there's a nice charm about it. They're meant to represent long-lasting love."
You take a good look of the flowers, and you're amazed by how bright they appear.
"Wow, they're so beautiful." Then you take a small glance up at Minghao, before back down at the flowers. "You must really take care of these flowers to make them look this vibrant."
"I try my best," he mutters quietly, watching as you continue to take in their beauty. "Each flower has its own needs, but with patience, they show their beauty. Much like people, I suppose."
Your eyes flicker back up at him, and for a moment, there's a quiet stillness between you, as if the space between you two is holding its breath. Then you let out a warm, somewhat nervous chuckle.
"I think I understand," You say, taking a step closer towards the tulips and carefully running a finger over its petals. "It's about giving them space to grow, right? Not forcing them to be something they're not."
There's something about the way you speak, something thoughtful, almost as if you also understand the language of patience he's grown so accustomed to.
"Exactly." He smiles faintly. "That's what I like about flowers𑁋they don't rush. They just exist, and somehow, they slowly become what they're meant to be."
You lift your gaze to meet his, and in your eyes, Minghao sees something more than just curiosity. There's a softness there, a sincerity that draws him in. At his sides, he feels his fingers twitch slightly, but he quickly smooths his hands down his apron.
It's strange how a simple conversation about flowers can make him feel so... connected to someone.
"I think these are perfect," You tell him, eyes brightening with confidence.
A wave of satisfaction washes over Minghao, who nods in agreement.
"Would you like me to wrap them up for you?" he asks.
"That would be great, thank you," You respond with that cute grin of yours𑁋it seems more relaxed now. The thought makes his heart flutter.
Minghao begins to wrap the delicate stems with some brown wrapping paper, carefully arranging them so they're secure. As he ties a ribbon around the bouquet, he can't help but sneak up a glance at you. You're wandering around the shop with your hands clasped in front of you, looking at the other arrangements on display, and he smiles to himself.
He finishes the bouquet and smooths out any remaining creases with his fingertips. When you make your way back over to him, he offers it to you.
"Do you want to write your name on a gift tag?" Minghao asks, holding up a small card and a pen. He doesn’t know why his heart's beating faster𑁋perhaps it's the subtle hopefulness in his voice that will make your name linger longer, even after you leave.
You glance at the pen in his hand, considering it for a moment before nodding.
"Sure, I'd love to," You tell him with a faint smile, snatching the pen from his grasp, giving it a quick click before writing something down, the tip of your tongue just barely peeking out in concentration.
When you finish, you hand the card back to him. He takes it from you carefully, inspecting your neat, intricate handwriting. It's simple, yet there's a certain elegance to it it. Minghao reads it under his breath: For someone special, who I hope feels the same - Y/N.
Y/N, he repeats in his mind.
"I'll finish it up for you now," he says, placing the card with the bouquet. He arranges the flowers once more, making sure everything is perfect before handing it to you.
You find yourself fishing into your bag for your wallet. "How much do I owe you?"
Minghao hesitates for a moment, his fingers hovering over the register, but there's something about the way your features soften and how your eyes meet his that makes him pause.
"It's on the house."
You stop your hands, peering back up at him with a surprised look. "Really? Are you sure?"
"Of course," he assures calmly. "It's the least I can do."
You just blink at him a few times, a soft chuckle escaping your lips.
"Thank you," You let out sheepishly as you take the bouquet in your hands, the ribbon slipping through your fingers as you carefully adjust it. There's a split second that passes where you sneak a glance at the nametag on his chest. "I really appreciate it. I'm sure they'll love them."
Something in his chest tightens at that𑁋they'll love them. Minghao tries not to overthink it, tries to ignore the brief twinge of something unsettling in his chest.
But you're smiling, so he smiles back.
"I hope so," he replies gently, and with a polite bow of his head, he adds, "I'm sure they'll appreciate the thought behind it."
As you walk towards the exit, you take a final look around the shop, eyes lingering on the shelves of flowers, before turning back to Minghao.
"I'll be sure to come back," You say brightly, and the way the afternoon sunlight pours down all around you in the doorway makes you appear almost angelic. "Thank you for everything."
"I'll be here," Minghao responds, offering a small, timid wave of his hand. "Take care."
The chime of the bell above the door announces your departure, and a sigh leaves him.
It's just flowers, he tells himself again. Just flowers.
And flowers𑁋like people𑁋don't rush.
Minghao finds himself wiping away some spilled soil on the counter, the soft hum of piano music drifting throughout the quiet flower shop. He had just gotten done cleaning up after a busy morning of rearranging a few displays around the shop to tie into the slow seasonal changes that were beginning to take shape outside.
The shift from the warm tones of summer to the cool shades of autumn had arrived, bringing a new, fresh palette for him to play with. Chrysanthemums, petunias, dahlias, and marigolds were beginning to make their way into the shop, taking their place next to the peonies and roses that had been so meticulously cared for.
When the last bits of soil are wiped away, Minghao steps back to admire the beauty of the shop around him, he takes in a deep inhale, letting in the earthy scent of the fresh blooms fill his lungs.
After storing away a few extra vases in the backroom, the chime of the door hits his ears, and Minghao finds himself straightening back up to greet whoever had come inside.
When looks up, however, he freezes for a moment. He catches you standing in the doorway, and Minghao has to blink a few times to make sure his mind wasn't playing any tricks on him.
"Hi, again," You're the first to greet this time, and then that grin spreads across your face once again, one that seems all-too familiar.
Minghao leans against the counter. "Back so soon?"
"I was just in the area, couldn't help myself, you know..." You drawl with a playful shrug. "I actually just officially moved into the city just last week, hopefully to be closer for this new job and well... The drive here isn't as long as before."
Minghao smiles softly. It's an unexpected but pleasant surprise for you to admit all that to him, and for some reason, it makes him feel a little lighter.
"That's great," he responds, pushing himself off the counter as he straightens up. "I imagine that must be a relief. How do you like it so far?"
You step further into the shop, your eyes eagerly scanning the new arrangements he's set up.
"It's been great, actually," You say with a relieved look. "Life has been... good, honestly. I think the city suits me. It's different, but in a positive way, and I'm already surrounded by a lot of nice people."
This warm and genuine feeling tugs at Minghao's lips as he listens to you, adjusting the stems of a vase full of a plethora of zinnias.
"I'm assuming that date from before went well then?"
His words makes the smile on your face flicker, and the change is subtle but noticeable enough for Minghao to catch it, even when he's not directly looking at you. You shift your weight between your two feet, and the way you glance around the shop seems almost like you're trying to distract yourself from something.
"The date didn't go well at all, actually."
Minghao's fingertips pause on the cold surface of the vase, brows furrowing in a bit of surprise.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," he apologises gently, regretting for the sudden change in mood. "I didn't mean to bring up anything uncomfortable."
You let out a small, rueful chuckle, shaking your head. "No, no, it's okay. Really."
The air seems to thicken a little. You could only stand and watch for a few long moments as Minghao moves gracefully around, tending to all the flowers with his usual care.
After a long pause, you finally break the silence.
"It was good at first, I think, then it just became... awkward. Like really awkward. I thought I had everything planned out𑁋good place, nice flowers, all that jazz... but I guess it just didn't click. I think we both kind of felt it." You feel your shoulders deflate in a pit of defeat, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you run a hand through your hair. "I don't know why I just rambled all that. Sorry about that."
Minghao doesn't say anything at first, simply giving you some space, but he feels his heart tighten in his chest. He casts his eyes on you, also unsure why you're telling him this or why it feels important to him, but he knows it's a moment of vulnerability𑁋a rare one𑁋and he wants to handle it with care.
"No need to say sorry," he reaffirms, tone soothing. "Sometimes things don't go as expected, and that's okay. It doesn't mean it wasn't meaningful."
You glance towards him, catching the sincerity dripping down from his words. It catches you by surprise at how almost... comfortable it feels to be open right now, with him. The atmosphere here doesn't demand anything of you.
"As people, we try so hard to make things go right that we forget to just... let them unfold naturally," he says softly, as if thinking aloud. "I think sometimes things don't work out because we're not ready for them yet, or maybe they're not the right kind of flower at the right time. You can spend so much time trying to arrange them, placing them in the perfect spot, hoping they'll just fit… but sometimes they don't. And that's okay."
You can't help but quirk a playful lip at that, but you can't resist the way his words appear to tug right at your heartstrings. "Are you comparing me to a flower?"
"Not just you, no," Minghao replies amusedly. "But I think you could be. A flower, I mean. You're just someone who's figuring out what kind you want to be."
The thought about being a flower𑁋in another life, perhaps𑁋is a bit silly. But you also wonder about other things too𑁋if you're being treated with the same care and attention that Minghao gives to his flowers, or if you're wilting like one that hasn't found the right light yet. And as you gaze around the shop, taking in the beauty of the blooms around you, you find yourself smiling.
"I think I'd like to try and take care of a flower," You announce, determination weaving around your voice and words. "I'm not sure if I'd be good at it, but I'd like to try."
Minghao crosses his arms together, letting out a thoughtful hum while studying you for a few seconds. "I think you'd do well."
For some reason, those few words were enough to send heat crawling up your body and into your face.
"Thank you," You breathe out sheepishly, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards. "Can you give me a few recommendations?"
Minghao just nods. "Sure."
From there, he leads you toward a small display near the front of the shop where a few different pots and seedlings are carefully arranged. He describes a few of them to you. You're immediately drawn to the passion dripping from his tone, and the way he appears to light up when he speaks.
"These might be a good start," he suggests, gesturing to a small seedling. "Marigolds are pretty low maintenance. They need light, of course, but they're easy to grow and care for."
You take a moment to study over the baby plant with sweet curiosity.
"I think I'll start with these, then," You say, glancing back at Minghao. "Something easy."
Minghao's eyes don't stray away from how you admire the tiny plant, how you cradle the pot in your hands to take a closer look at it as if you're already imagining yourself taking care of it.
"Taking care of them can be a good reminder to take care of yourself too," he points out. "They need patience, consistency… and a little bit of trust, just like people do."
You look up at him, a smile tugging at your lips once more, feeling something warm bloom in your chest. His words settle into you in a way that's hard to describe, but they feel right𑁋like they're exactly what you need to hear.
"That's true," You reply, the weight of the sentiment settling comfortably within you. "I guess I could use a reminder like that."
"Shall I wrap it up for you?" he offers.
"Yes, please. Thank you."
After mulling over some options, he chooses the perfect wrapping paper and adds a small note about caring for marigolds. You watch him, mesmerised by the ease in his movements, the care he pours into something so simple. For a moment, you forget about all the bustling noise outside the shop, and all that exists is Minghao and the flowers, his flowers.
As Minghao ties the final knot around the marigold pot, he hands it to you, and his fingertips briefly brush against yours.
"Thank you," You tell him softly. "For everything, really. It's very calming in here."
Minghao's smile widens, almost like he's heard those same words before, and perhaps he has; maybe many people find themselves drawn to his calm presence and the haven he's created in this little shop.
There's a strange warmth that spreads throughout your chest as you cradle the small plant in your hands. "I'll be sure to take good care of it."
A few moments of comfortable silence pass as you both stand there, your eyes drifting around the shop to take in the palette of autumn that colours the space. Yet it's almost instinctive in the way your gaze finds Minghao.
"I hope you won't mind me coming back, you know... to make sure I'm doing a good job with this little one." You gesture to the plant in your hands, a playful tone to your words.
Minghao chuckles, a sound as gentle as the petals surrounding him. "Of course. I'll be here."
"Do you mind if I take another look around with the place? It looks great, by the way."
"Take all the time you need."
And for the first time in a long while, Minghao felt like he wasn't just waiting for the next flower to bloom.
He was blooming, too.
"Do you have a favourite flower?"
The question rests upon Minghao's shoulders while he waters a cluster of orchids in the back corner of the shop. You're hovering near him, aimlessly trudging your fingertips over, but instead lets the question settle in between the quiet moments.
"I imagine it's hard to pick as a florist, right?" You let out a meek laugh. "It's kind of like asking a painter to pick their favourite colour."
The corners of Minghao's lips curl up slightly, his eyes fixed on the glistening leaves under the faint droplets of water. You can tell he's contemplating the question from the quiet hums leaving his mouth, and for some reason, you find comfort in his patience.
"Not exactly," he says after a pause, his voice steady, thoughtful. "A painter might have a favourite colour, but they don't use it all the time. It's about balance. Knowing when to bring it forward and when to hold it back."
"Ah, so you do have a favourite flower," You tease lightly, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. "You just don't want to admit it."
The brief touch seems to linger in the air, a soft warmth that you both let pass without acknowledging. Minghao gently sets the watering can down and looks at you for a moment, his gaze a little deeper than before.
"In China, we have a lot of flowers that hold meaning," Minghao continues. "It's hard to pick one specifically, but... I've been liking the liánhuā lately𑁋the lotus. It grows in muddy water and blooms above the surface, even despite those circumstances. It also represents purity, resilience, and growth."
You tilt your head as you take in his words. You already knew yourself that you didn't know much about flowers, but there's a certain curiosity that washes over you from how Minghao speaks so fondly about them. Even something as simple as a flower has layers of meaning for him.
"That's really beautiful, I..." You trail off, trying to find the right words. "I've always looked at things really surface-level, you know, like I've always found daisies beautiful because they're so simple and bright, but I never really thought much about their deeper meanings. It's kind of like... I never thought about why I liked them. It's just easy to see them and appreciate them, I guess."
Minghao blinks at you, before lowering his gaze down to the floor. "Daisies suit you."
You turn to him, dazed. "Really?"
Minghao takes a contemplative pause. "Well, they're not only... beautiful to look at, but they brighten up any space they're in."
You feel your feet seep into the floor, sinking deeper as your cheeks warm, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were standing next to him. And it's the way he acts like he didn't fucking say anything out of the ordinary almost makes you lose it.
"Are you flirting with me right now?"
However, Minghao doesn't seem fazed by the question. Instead, his lips twitch into a small, almost imperceptible smile, and then a few seconds later, your phone rings.
Minghao just offers you a little wave of his soil-painted hand. "Have fun at work, Y/N."
"Minghao! Can you teach me how to wrap these flowers?"
Minghao casts his attention up from displaying a new set of hyacinths, catching you behind the counter with a bouquet in your hands, along with a small old lady on the other side with a cheerful grin.
There's a subtle tug at the corners of his mouth when he hears you holler for him again, and he brushes his hands against his apron, before marching his way toward you. He steps up to you, taking the flowers from your hand while you beam happily towards the old lady.
"What's the occasion for the flowers, ma'am?" You ask curiously. Th elderly woman lets out a soft laugh, resting her wrinkled hands on the counter.
"It's for my grandson! He's graduating from high school today. Time flies by, doesn't it?"
"Wow, that's such a milestone! Congratulations to him," You exclaim enthusiastically, softly clapping your hands together as Minghao deftly arranges the flowers within the wrapping paper, before sliding it over to you.
He leans in a bit more, almost too close you feel the way his arm brushes against yours and the way his breath fans against your skin.
"Fold the edges like this," Minghao instructs softly, his hands hovering right over yours. "Make sure the paper covers the stems. Too much pressure could break them; too loose could make them fall apart."
You watch as his hands follow yours while you nervously, yet carefully trace the frail edge of the paper, showing you how to make each fold with a care that's almost tender. His close proximity sends strange flutters to your stomach, but you do your best to ignore it.
"Okay, like this?" You question, pulling the paper slightly tighter around the bouquet.
Minghao hums approvingly, letting you hold the flowers while he circles a ribbon around it with ease. His hands brush against yours as he neatly ties it, and the two of you pull back to watch how it delicately falls over the bouquet.
The old lady glances between the two of you with a knowing smile.
"The two of you make such a cute couple! Do you run the shop together?"
You feel your face fire up at that, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Then you instinctively glance over at Minghao, who surprisingly doesn't seem as flustered as you are.
"Oh, um, we're not𑁋"
"They like to help out here once in a while," Minghao adds in smoothly, though you aren't sure if that entirely helps or not. However you know what he's saying is true, because whenever your break for work comes or on your free time, you find yourself naturally walking towards the flower shop to help out at times.
The lady just beams up even more, scooping up the bouquet in her grasp. "Well, it's nice to see young faces working together! You two sure do have a lot of chemistry."
You offer a wave of your hand. "I hope your grandson enjoys the flowers. Congratulations to him once again!"
With that, the old woman offers a small wink before turning to head out of the shop. "Thank you, dear! Take care, both of you." Her delighted steps echo off the walls as she exits the shop.
The shop grows quiet again. You let out a sigh, cracking your knuckles as you turn to Minghao, who was already wiping over the surface of the counter, making quick work of putting things back in order, and for some reason, it still doesn't wipe away the pit of awkwardness you're feeling. You wonder if he feels the same too.
"So," Minghao starts, still continuing to clean without batting a glance at you. "You're taking over my shop, it seems."
You let out a haughty scoff. "I just wanted to try wrapping some flowers for someone. Don't let it get to your head."
Minghao only chuckles lightly, though he keeps his focus on the counter, yet you could only focus on him. You can't help but admire the way his hair falls effortlessly over his forehead, the slight endearing tilt of his head as he works, and how his movements are so meticulously unique to only him. There's a certain aura he exudes that makes you feel strangely at peace, a magic that only seems to reside within the walls of the shop.
"Why didn't you say no?" You suddenly ask, the question slipping out before you could shut your mouth.
Minghao pauses mid-swipe, looking back up at you. "Say no to what?"
"To, uh... the lady back there," You stammer, feeling the heat creep back at your neck. "About us, you know... being a couple."
Minghao remains silent as he tosses the dirty wipe away. For a moment, he seems to be contemplating something𑁋whether the question, the idea, or something more.
Then he just simply shrugs. "I guess I didn't mind it," he replies lowly, and meets your eyes warily. "Does it bother you?"
Your mind goes completely blank at his question. Does it bother you? The simple truth is that you didn't expect him to answer so casually. You were expecting him to probably correct her humbly, in all honesty. After all, it was just a passing comment from a lady who didn't mean any harm behind it.
But... does it bother you?
"No, it... it doesn't bother me. Really," You respond after a pause, voice coming out a bit forced. Your heart is beating super fast right now. "I guess I just didn't expect you to go along with it since we're not𑁋"
"𑁋not a couple," Minghao finishes for you. "I know."
You feel like you're melting into a pile of goo, your thoughts scattering like ants running out of their pile.
"I'm sorry, I'm overthinking," You mumble out, trying to brush everything off with an airy laugh.
Minghao shakes his head. "I should be sorry. I made you uncomfortable."
"You-You didn't, trust me!" You wave your hands dismissively, albeit a bit dramatic. "I was just caught off-guard and didn't know how to respond."
This seems to relax Minghao's shoulders a bit, but not entirely.
"Okay," he says, and his voice is as light as a wisp getting caught in the wind. "But you'd tell me if you were uncomfortable, right?"
You give him an easy nod, maybe even confident. "I would. I promise. And you'd... tell me too?"
Minghao meets your eyes with a steady gaze, his expression soft but thoughtful. For a moment, there's a subtle shift in the air, and you can feel the weight of his words before he speaks again.
"Yeah," he answers firmly, sincerely. "I would."
When you open your mouth to speak again, your phone dings in your pocket. You squint your eyes to read over the message in your notifications, before closing up your phone.
"My meeting got cancelled." Then you blink up towards Minghao, as if trying to convey an unspoken question to him.
As if the answer wasn't already obvious, Minghao gives you a small, almost teasing smile.
"I don't mind the company," he tells you, then quirks up a brow. "Unless you do."
"I don't mind either," I like being in this place... with you. "Not at all."
Flowers bloom when the time is right. And you don't mind waiting for it.
When a flower dies, there's a certain routine that comes after it. Trim away the wilted petals, dispose of the stems, recycle them as compost, and plant the next set of blooms.
Minghao hates seeing flowers die.
The sound of crumbling petals tie a knot in his chest, the stillness that follows afterwards is almost deafening. But he knows it's an inevitable part of life. Every flower has its chance to bloom and thrive, and eventually, it will fade.
The flowers don't belong to him, after all𑁋they are simply passing through his care briefly before going to someone else or withering away, like everything else in life. Minghao knows it's unnecessary to hold onto these flowers so tightly, but after being surrounded by them his entire life, it's merely impossible to let go.
The bell chimes as he's composting a few camellias that had sadly wilted, and he gazes up to find a gust of snow following your footsteps as you step inside. A large, black fluffy coat hugs your body and a scarf is wrapped snugly around your neck. However this time, Minghao doesn't notice any ounce of a smile to your face.
He sets the compost bin down and wipes his hands on his apron.
"Y/N?"
There's a very subtle twitch to your expression when he calls out your name.
"Hey," You croak out, voice a bit strained. "Um... is it fine if I buy some flowers?"
Minghao feels something in his chest clench at your tone, but he pushes the feeling away with his usual calm composure, masking away any concern simmering on the surface.
"Sure," he replies, focusing on the shadows that plague over your features. "Is there anything specific you're looking for?"
Your eyes drift away from to look around the flower shop, taking note of the bright, usual blooms that surround you, yet none of them appear are what you're looking for.
"Do you have, um..." You feel like you're already going to regret this. "...anything for a funeral?"
The words float in the air between you both. Minghao's expression falters for just a moment, the calmness that he usually carries slipping as his eyes soften toward you.
"Of course," he says softly. "I have a few options."
With that, he leads you to a particular spot in the shop, where it houses all sorts of flowers with muted colours𑁋white roses and lilies, pale chrysanthemums, and pink and purple orchids all arranged neatly. Minghao watches as you gaze over each flower, but he doesn't speak yet, simply allowing you the moment to breathe.
"These are the traditional flowers for a funeral," he explains finally. "White roses for remembrance, lilies for peace, chrysanthemums for mourning, and orchids for everlasting love."
Minghao has picked flowers for funerals before. He's also seen people hold onto flowers that are long past their bloom, clinging to them as if their presence alone could bring someone back. He's been there too.
It's bit a different when it's you though, and he doesn't exactly know how to explain it.
You plod slowly throughout the display, picking up a stem here and there, but each time, you set it back down as if it didn't feel right. But when you come across the orchids, you linger a little longer on them, tenderly caressing the petals as if you were scared to break them.
"I think I'll choose these ones. The orchids," You murmur, picking up a few stems and showing it to him.
Minghao just nods, taking the ones from your hands and grabbing a few more to finish the rest of the bouquet, moving with careful precision.
"I'll handle the rest, don't worry," he assures you as he gracefully works to arrange the orchids.
None of you choose to say anything more, only letting the diffident silence stretch. For some reason, the shop feels a little more cooler, the air heavier than usual. The only sound is the rustling of Minghao's hands moving carefully over the flowers, the quiet snap of a stem as he trims it with his shears. Outside, the snow continues to fall.
Minghao doesn't press for any details, yet even in the quiet, you have a feeling that he knows. Maybe that's why he's just letting his hands speak for him.
"Here you go." He offers you a neat bouquet of pale lavender orchids.
You step up to him to retrieve it from his grasp, bringing it close to your chest. "Thank you."
Minghao knows he shouldn't let his feelings get in the way, but as he takes note of the slight glassiness to your eyes and small tremble of your hands holding the bouquet, he isn't sure how much longer he can hold it in. He feels guilty when he lets his eyes drift down to your lips for a second, before averting it back up quickly.
The smile you give him is nothing short of fragile, faint, but it's there. And then, with a sudden leap, you find yourself leaning into Minghao's embrace without thinking, wrapping your arms around his body as if he was the only thing in the world that was preventing you from falling down. And in a way, he is.
His arms catch you instinctively, gentle yet steady, embracing around you like flowers petals folding inward for protection. His warmth seeps into you as if he were the sun reaching a flower in the early hours of dawn, and his hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, encouraging you to press closer into his warmth.
You don't cry𑁋not entirely. A single tear slips past your lashes, landing silently against his shoulder. He feels it, but he doesn't move, doesn't say anything, and just lets you... be.
"I'm sorry," You mumble into his shoulder. "I didn't mean to𑁋"
"Don't be," Minghao interrupts softly. "It's okay."
You pull away for a moment to look up at him. He's still holding you. His hands have fallen down to your sides, resting there as if he's held you like this before. The way you're looking at him has Minghao nearly forgetting how to breathe; it nearly urges to him to lean down and close the distance between the two of you.
His gaze lingers on your lips, and for a split second, Minghao almost allows himself to follow the instinct to lean in.
But then he stops himself.
He's not sure what this is, what the right thing to do is. His thoughts are tangled mess of roots𑁋he's always been careful with holding himself back, with promising to wait, yet something about the way you look at him makes it feel like the only right thing to do is to give in.
But he can't. Not yet. Not when you're so fragile and baring yourself raw to him.
Yet he sees the way your eyes flutter at him, the way a crease of question forms in between your brows as if you're also unsure of what this moment is, but there's a longing there too. It's almost pleading. And you lean in a little more towards him.
"Y/N," he breathes out your name, and it's the first time you ever heard his voice shake like that. "We... We shouldn't."
You don't say anything at first, your eyes searching his face like you're trying to read something. You open your mouth, close it, and then, with a slight exhale, you step back, only a little, but enough to let the cool air seep in between you.
"I'm sorry, I..." You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, letting out a sniffle. "Fuck, I'm sorry..."
Minghao feels his chest tighten. "It's okay𑁋"
"I-I just wanted to feel something for a moment, you know? Everything is such a mess right now and the first person I thought of was you, because I like... the way you make me feel. I like it way more than I should. And that... that it's okay if you don't feel that way too."
Minghao's heart stutters at that, and perhaps the world even pauses too. All words that want to leave him become stuck in his throat, because he knows deep down𑁋from as far back as the moment you walked into the flower shop𑁋that he's felt the same way for far too long.
So, he settles with taking one hand from your side and slowly reaching up to trace your warm cheek with his thumb, his touch delicate as if he's afraid he might cause your petals to fall down. He brushes away a lingering tear that had been drying up on your skin and lets his hand stay there.
"You... deserve way more than just comfort in a moment like this," Minghao starts quietly. "But you're grieving right now, and I don't want to take advantage of that. I don't want to just be someone who's here for a moment, because... you mean so much to me more than that."
Your lips form into a tight, thin line, and you flicker your gaze towards the floor, the heaviness in the air still weighing down on your shoulders.
"Minghao..."
"And if I act on what I feel, it wouldn't be fair to you," Minghao continues, voice trembling slightly as he speaks. "I want it to be because you know what you want. And if you ever give me that chance, I promise I'll be here for you. Not just now, not just in this moment, but... for everything. When you're ready; when you're healed; when it feels right, I'll be here𑁋I always have been."
There's a lump in your throat that you swallow down. For a while, you could only simply stand there, feeling as if you're teetering on the edge of something you can't quite reach. But even as you stand in this stillness, there's something in his words that echoes off the walls of your mind𑁋it's understanding, and it's care, and it feels like a promise.
"I... I know. I just... I'm sorry for putting all this on you. I think I need space to... heal and think." Then you look back up at him, wonder tainting your features. "Will you wait for me?"
The question feels a bit silly to ask, and it makes Minghao's features soften as he looks at you, a warmth in his chest that spreads like the first rays of sunlight breaking through a cold morning.
"I've already been waiting for you," he says, almost cheekily, and it seems to lighten the moment a little. "I haven't planned on stopping anytime soon."
The chuckle that leaves you isn't forced; in fact, it's quite relieving. It feels like the start of something, and Minghao feels a flicker of hope at the sound.
You reluctantly separate yourself away from him, cradling the bouquet of orchids to your chest, and let out an exhale you hardly realise you were holding in.
"I'll be okay, you know," You tell him, even if it's a bit of lie, or half the truth. You can't tell which.
Minghao glances down to your hands, as if you're holding a piece of your heart wrapped up within the petals, before back up to your eyes.
"I know," is all he says.
The world doesn't stop for grief, but it's okay to pause for a little while.
Minghao wonders if flowers ever feel the same bittersweet pull when their petals fall𑁋the ache of letting go, but the quiet hope of something new taking root.
You haven't stepped foot in the flower shop in a while. At least, not as often as you used to come.
The absence is especially daunting, and Minghao can't help but feel it every time the bell chimes and it isn't you that walks through the door. On rare occasion you'd swing by to say hello during your breaks at work and sometimes, a pretty, shy smile from you before you disappear back into the world outside.
It's strange how easily your presence had come to be a part of the rhythm of his days. He used to wonder how someone like you would be drawn to the boring stillness of a flower shop. But now the place feels more emptier than before you came into his life, the petals around him somehow less vibrant, the air colder, even when the sun streams through the windows.
He tries not to dwell on it, but he can't help the nagging feeling that maybe you've drifted away, maybe things have changed. Maybe he was just a moment for you. And now, that moment has passed.
So he simply spends his days in the shop, moving between shelves of blossoms and arranging bouquets, but his thoughts always return to you. To the quiet moments when your voice would fill the space between the flowers, to the way you cared and tended the blooms even when you had no reason to.
It makes him think that if flowers could speak for us, then what might they say about you? Would they say you were someone who saw beauty in the smallest things? Minghao often found himself wishing that flowers could speak just so he can hear what they would say about you.
But flowers don't speak, of course. They just bloom and stretch toward the light, growing in places where they are tended to, and even in those that have been forgotten.
Maybe that's what Minghao was𑁋a forgotten flower of his own waiting to be seen, to be noticed.
Luckily, he was able to distract himself a bit today with a few deliveries for a couple of upcoming weddings and a new arrangement for the store he was preparing to do in the next few days, along with piles of orders for days. But it still wasn't enough.
As he flips the sign on the window to display Closed, he fumbles for his keys to lock the door. However, the sound of the bell rings through the shop, stopping him mid-motion. Minghao lifts a brow up, not expecting for anyone to show up right as he's about to close up.
And when he looks up, he freezes.
"I'm not late, aren't I?"
It's you.
The way your voice comes out all shaky like you're out of breath, yet soft has Minghao feeling as if he's sinking into quicksand. The sight of you standing at the doorway is a dream he never dares to wake up from.
"You're not," Minghao manages to say, somehow. "You're just in time."
Your lips tug into a small, relieved smile, and it's enough to make the air feel lighter in the shop. You take a few hesitant steps so that you're fully inside, letting the door shut behind you with a faint click.
Your lips tug into a small, relieved smile, and it's enough to make the air feel lighter in the shop. You take a few hesitant steps so that you're fully inside, letting the door shut behind you with a faint click. You take in the familiar, fresh scent of all the blooms and greenery around you, and it hits you in the heart just how much you've missed this place.
"I had, uh… a late shift at work," You explain unsurely. "so I thought about stopping by, but I wasn't sure if you'd still be here."
Minghao just shakes his head, watching as you brush your fingertips over some lilies and baby's breaths that were displayed on a small table near the window. Gosh, he'd do anything to flat out say how much he missed you, how much he'd been thinking about you, but he doesn't.
"Have you been busy?" You ask him.
"A little," he responds. "but manageable, I would say."
"Ah… that's good," You mumble, voice trailing off as you start to make your way in his direction, catching eye on a particular bouquet sitting on the counter behind him. "No-show again?"
Minghao lets out a sigh, and he feels you following behind as he walks towards the counter. He picks up the bouquet in his hand, letting his gaze fall over it.
"Mhm," he hums. "But it's alright, really. Happens more often than you think."
You quirk a brow as your eyes roam over the bouquet, and a particular, almost knowing look stretches across your lips.
"That's funny," You huff, taking the bouquet from his grasp. It held a colourful variety of hydrangeas. "It looks a lot like an order I placed a few days ago."
Minghao's heart skips a beat as he watches you carefully examine the bouquet, his breath caught in his throat.
"This… was yours?" he questions in surprise.
"Yeah, I…" You bite your lips sheepishly. "It was sort of an impulsive thing, I guess."
Minghao only continues to watch as you admire the bouquet, caressing over the delicate wrapping paper and the all-too familiar bow that he would tie all of his other arrangements.
"Impulsive, huh?" Minghao teases lightly, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "Well, you certainly picked a good one."
You look up at him, a small, tentative smile forming on your face. "I guess I just wanted to get something special. For someone."
Minghao feels his heart sink at that, a flutter of hope and uncertainty colliding in his chest. Someone.
He opens his mouth to say something, but the words get caught in his throat, unsure if it's his place to ask, or if he even wants to hear the answer.
"I see," he says instead, trying to keep his tone relaxed, though there's a hint of sadness to his voice that he silently hopes you don't notice.
You take note of his unreadable expression, over the way his eyes appear downcast and a subtle tension to his posture.
However, this doesn't make you stop from gripping the bouquet tighter in your grasp, and then in the next moment, you're stepping closer and offering it over to him.
"I hope you like them," You state, holding out the bouquet thing as if was the most natural thing in the world.
Minghao glances at the bouquet quizzically, the same one he had just been holding, then back at you. His face shifts between a million different expressions𑁋confusion, surprise, hope, and everything in between𑁋before the tension in his chest eases just slightly as he finally registers what you're doing.
He's a florist, for crying out loud. He's usually the one to be giving flowers to people. Never in his years of practically living in the shop has anyone offered flowers to him. The gesture is practically foreign, yet in this moment, it feels so right.
His fingers graze against yours as he hesitantly takes it from your hands, but you fully let go. Instead, you cover his hand with yours, warmth spreading between you as you gently press your palm against his. His heart is beating in his throat, in his ears, everywhere in his body, and he wonders if you can feel it too.
"I missed you," You declare softly, yet a pinch of urgency behind your words. "I missed you so fucking much."
His chest tightens, and it's as if the weight of everything crushes him in the best possible way. All the time he had spent wondering if you had forgotten about him, if maybe you had moved on, it all melts away in an instant. Because you're here. And you're saying everything he's been craving to hear.
And gosh, does he want to kiss you right now.
This time, Minghao doesn't waste a second. He brings a hand up to cradle the side of your neck as he presses his lips to yours. It's perhaps a bit desperate first, making him swallow down a faint sigh you let out but it quickly settles into something softer, deeper, like two people who've been waiting for this moment for far too long.
He can feel the slight tremble in your breath as your lips move against his, and he pulls back slightly, just to make sure you were still with him.
Minghao lets his thumb lightly caress over your cheek as if trying to memorise the feeling of your skin under his touch, as if he'd been starved for this closeness.
"I missed you too," he whispers, a breath away from your lips. "The flowers did too."
A light, airy chuckle escapes from you. "Oh, did they?"
"Of course," Minghao murmurs, his lips curling upwards against your skin. "They've been waiting for you to come back."
"Well, I better not keep them waiting anymore then, right?" You jest playfully, leaning in back once again.
Minghao doesn't hesitate to meet you halfway. "Nope," he says firmly against your mouth. "I think they've waited long enough."
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#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#seventeen x reader#seventeen fic#minghao imagines#minghao fluff#minghao x reader#minghao fic#the8 imagines#the8 fluff#the8 x reader#the8 fic#xu minghao imagines#xu minghao fluff#xu minghao x reader#xu minghao fic#svt imagines#svt fluff#svt x reader#svt fic#svt#seventeen
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hey i wanted to request soft promt 37 with lando... idk its just really lando coded
i love you forever for sending me f1 prompts!! 💜 and it IS lando coded, thank you for requesting and i hope you'll like it!
fluff prompt: 'it's not a double date, we're just third and fourth wheeling.'
lando adjusts his jacket for the third time, ignoring carlos and his pointedly amused stare. he obviously has it easy - his girlfriend is right next to him and they both are sickeningly in love with each other, so it's not like he has to woo her with his appereance. unlike lando, who is very much single and has a job to woo you with his appereance. shit, does he have time to go back and change?
'cabron, you're overthinking this,' carlos says in attempt to calm him down. 'you look fine, i promise i wouldn't have set you up on a double date if i weren't sure that she likes you back.'
just the thought that carlos might be right, that you actually might lando back is enough to perk him up. carlos is not that cruel to joke about stuff like this and lando is...well, hopeful. his hope rise further when rebecca softly says that you two would make a great couple. he honestly can't agree more; his imagination painted that picture too many times in his mind of you two being together. god, you'd be so good to each other, he knows. he knows all of this, so he has no idea why he starts acting like an idiot when you turn up.
'this looks suspiciously like a double date from the outside,' you murmur, sliding up to the booth next to him, watching as carlos and rebecca argue about the drinks.
you look beautiful. stunning, really. which is what he is supposed to say but instead what comes from his mouth is: 'it's not a double date, we're just third and fourth wheeling.'
lando is ready to hit his head on the table, but then you laugh and oh. he is okay with being an idiot if it makes you laugh like that. he likes your laugh, like your smile. lando likes so many things about you, it's getting ridicilous how he has such a hard time articulating all of it to you.
'you two look cute,' carlos comments offhandedly.
'oh, do we?' you ask, turning to lando, smiling. 'not as cute as you two though.'
'we are cuter than them.' lando argues, when food arrives. 'how can you lie to them?'
he likes making you laugh. lando is sure that he looks like a lovesick puppy, but my god, if making you laugh was a job, he'd apply for it and stay in this position for as long as you'll have him. your eyes shine bright when you turn to him, sitting as close as this little booth allows you to. 'that's very confident,' you comment, chuckling. 'but we gotta let them win this one, lan. they are together, afterall.'
lando blinks. he can be such an idiot, but he surely can't miss this chance, right? 'then we should get together too,' he says quietly even though both carlos and rebecca are busy slow dancing on the dance floor. 'so we can win this argument.'
there's a pause when you try to gauge his reaction, to understand whether he's being real or not. lando just stares at you with all of the emotions written clearly on his face for you to see. 'just for the sake of winning this argument?' you ask at last, more serious but still smiling.
'for winning this life.' lando lets out and cringes at the same second, making you howl with laughter.
'oh my god, that was horrible!' you squeak, leaning on him, laughing.
'i can't believe i said that as well,' lando mutters, shy, but happily wrapping one arm around your shoulders. 'cringed so hard.'
'okay, lando norris.' you lean back, still laughing. 'okay. am i correct in assumption that you imply us being together will mean that we're winning this life?' lando nods, biting his lower lip. you smile softly, taking his hand in yours. 'i agree, then.'
lando fears his heart stopped. 'yeah?'
you lean in, brushing his nose with his. 'yeah.'
nevermind, his heart is fine. it's beating again, stronger than ever.
a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini
#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#lando norris#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x y/n#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fic#f1 prompt#I LOVE WRITING FOR MY FAV BOY
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dream team back. we’re currently yapping central again (per usual)
both of us are straight up in a tim drake brainrot spiral too!!! he’s a delightful little weirdo. a strange little gentleman if you will.
tim is such a funny little guy!!! he also makes a solid yandere. you can’t outsmart him. you can’t escape someone who can find everything about you. On the upside, I feel like he’d be happy to spoil his darling. also he’d be like, really considerate in weird ways??? I mean like you don’t get privacy (or you get the illusion of it maybe but not actual privacy.)
like yeah you’re always being watched in some way, but the man has committed every single one of your favorites and least favorites to memories. He knows what clothing you like, what specific features you look for in everything, and if he doesn’t, by god, will he learn. He knows your favorite song, and he knows the nickname you went by in elementary school.
Do you think he pretends to be normal and basically sets things up to send reader to be like a little love story?? You meet by chance, and he fell first. He fell a LONG time ago, so now it’s his mission to make you fall too. And Tim Drake ALWAYS finishes a mission. (Even as a baby daddy candidate). He makes himself the best option, even if he’s not the father.
Yandere!TimDrake x PastFriend!Reader x Aiden Cobblepot
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: Sooooo, I'm finally and slowly going through my ask box and you two may have sparked an idea just for Tim. I might have to do a Part Two for this. (I'm falling into the WIP trap. Help!) But, I love the thought of the Bat Family have competition when it comes to their darling. Gives them a challenge. Plus, I really wanted to use Aiden Cobblepot for this. I've been wanting to sneak him into something.
A/N: We have neglected!Sib!Reader, but what about a Neglected!Friend!Reader? Fun idea. Tim already knowing everything about you only to find you’ve changed and wants to study you all over again. Only this time he’s keeping you! (I’m very fond of Tim. I think he’s difficult to write for me, but I enjoy the little stalker so much.)
Warnings: Yandere Themes, Romantic themes, Tim can be read as kinda platonic, GN!Reader
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
You and Tim were once good friends. Well, he was your best friend. To him you were just a good one. High school buddies that would hang out all the time. At school only. And sometimes the rare gala you saw him at. It was rare you ever actually went to The Manor. You never asked to go. But, you had hoped to be invite.
Just like you had hoped that he might reciprocate that pesky crush you had on him back then. You had felt like it was so painfully obvious. Though it wasn't as painful when you finally figured out he was Red Robin and you waited and waited for him to tell you his secret identity. And, then you would tell him you already figured it out and you would look so cool.
Only, he never did. You both grew distant. You had put so much carful effort into keeping that distance from growing. Inviting him to hang out more. Asking him out for casual coffee. He always said the same thing.
"Oh, damn. I could really go for that right now. But, I'm just sorta busy. Next time though. For sure."
Over and over. He sounded like a broken character. Repeating the same phrase. One that you would hang around after the game was over to reminisce about all the fun adventures you both once had. However this was life not a game. You couldn't just restart and rerun the same adventures.
It made you ache when you finally moved on. When you finally pulled away. Because, Tim didn't even notice you were gone. His life to change. He didn't have to restart anything. You had lost your best friend and he didn't even care. It stung. It stung more than you realizing he'd never reciprocate your feelings.
But, like all things, time moves on and so do you. Leaving the past behind and starting a new game. One that you start to flourish in. Making new friends. Meeting new people. Building closer bonds and more healthy friendships. It had been interesting to realize how dependent you had been on Tim once upon a time. And, embarrassing. You can't help looking back on it with a wince. You almost want to reach out and apologize. But, that would be weird and you both live completely separate lives now. You hardly ever see him at galas now. Mostly because you don't go anymore.
Things, do change. You never expected your new partner would draw Tim's attention back to you. And, in such a terrible way.
You had a rough idea of what you were getting into when Aiden Cobblepot had asked you out to dinner. You figured he was only interested in you for your money or your half-decent looks or your family name and position. You had heard all the rumors about him, but still you went. Mostly, because you knew how dangerous he and his family were. And, you were… presently surprised.
He was a bit of an entitled asshole. But, he wasn't scared of getting dirty. You watched him lead you through the puddles of rain water and Gotham grim in the posh restaurant. He held more concern for you're clothing getting dirty than his, which were more expensive than yours. He paid for the date without flinching at the price. Encouraged you to try his own food from his plate. Talked about fond memories of the things he and his sister got up to as children while asking you about your own childhood.
Admittedly, you were easily seduced because after that the two of you became an item. You didn't even realize how official you were until he introduced you to his sister, Addison, and she was actually nice to you. Extremely nice. She did, however, threaten to kill you if you betrayed Aiden in any way, which was honestly fair enough.
Aiden and you were a bit on the opposite side of things, taste wise and morally wise. But, you both made it work. He continued his life of crime, but made no mention of it around you to keep you legally clean. You shared most of your life with him, letting him have a slight glimmer into normalcy. He liked to take you on fancy dates and show you a good time. You were happy to pull him inside just to spend personal time with each other. Of course, you both made compromises. Aiden had a taste for luxury, and you didn't mind indulging in it. Especially after you beat his ass multiple times in Mario cart. It was only fair you let him take you to a gala some point.
Little did you know that that was how Tim would come clawing and digging his way back into your life.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
For Tim seeing you again was like finding an old precious treasure. His life had gotten so difficult and complicate lately that just a reminded of all those old times was nice.
However, seeing you on the arms of the Penguin's son was a brutal wake up call. What were you doing? Had you hit your head? Was he blackmailing you? Drugging you? Everyone in Gotham could recognize the name Cobblepot and how dangerous they are. And, he remembers how smart you were so you couldn't have willing chose to be there. It's not logical.
For your safety, he reintroduces himself to you. Long time, no see. We should hang out some time and catch up. Only he means it. He can't let this happen. He can't let you fall in with a man like that. You're his friend. He'll win you over for your own sake. Ruin Cobblepot while he's at it because how dare he use you.
Even if you changed. Even if you don't smell the same. If your hair is different. If you dress different. Even if your very laugh had changed pitch, he knows you. And, if anything, he can just re-learn you all over again. It won't take long. He's done it all before. This time he'll savor though. This time he won't let you go as he pulls you back in. You were a good friend, this time he'll make you more.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: I’m starting to type up Part Three of Pregant!Reader, but I ended up coming up with another start to it with more drama that would be strictly for the BatBoys. The messed up drama in it sounds fun and challenging, but I won’t do it until I finish what I started with the blurbs I have planned included.
A/N: Smalltown!Meta!Reader Part Nine is going to take a while. I have big plans for it, but Pregnant!Reader is kinda outshining it.
A/N: I will post about the LoungeSinger!Reader and another idea I came up with that y’all might like that I’ll add to the concept list.
A/N: There’s a Tony Part Two coming, but it’s only halfway typed and still not that yandere-y. Need to fix that.
A/N: My asks box is full, so I’m gonna try to empty it, but I host Thanksgiving in my family and I’m also a Christmas nut, so I’m gonna be busy. (I have four Christmas trees in my house currently… But I’m not as bad as my in-laws! They had their trees up BEFORE Halloween.)
#yandere tim drake x reader#yandere tim drake#yandere batfamily x reader#yandere dc#yandere batfam x reader#tim drake x reader#tim drake#aiden cobblepot#reader x aiden cobblepot#yandere batboys#yandere batboy#yandere batfam#answered asks#anon ask#luluramblings
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!season 1
Viktor is, you've clearly observed, insecure of himself.
Quite valiantly, due to some looming social norm or personal feeling, he tries to hide it. But in moments like these, such an act becomes impossible. Try as he might, desperately at times, when he's pressed against you in the warm water, your fingers over his skin, your fingers in his hair, his failure is palpable.
"Are you okay?" You murmur into the nape of his neck, his back against your chest. The water threatens with gentle churns to spill over the bathtub.
He turns his head to press a kiss against your wrist.
"More than," he says, voice quiet but firm, "I just feel, sometimes," and he hums, as though forming an adequate description of his emotions were the hardest task on the planet. Viktor, your genius scientist, hesitant not to innovate, to change the world with his research, no. He's hesitant only to make sure he says the right thing to you.
"Like I'm too good for you?" You ask, catching his eye. By the gentle look you know that's what he means. He faces away again, nods in a vaguely ashamed way.
How, you've always wondered, can you truly change someone's perspective? When words don't seem to persuade, when actions bring only fleeting relief, what can you do?
"It's irrational, I know, some... flaw of the mind. You don't need to keep reassuring my senselessness." He leans into your touch, takes your free hand into his, soap suds bubbling between your fingers.
"Sometimes you talk about yourself like you're a machine, you know." You muse. He gives a half-hearted laugh.
"Not a well functioning one."
Are words or actions worth more in this game of convincing? Does he feel it deeper when you press your lips into his hair, or when you mumble compliments and honeysuckle words into his ear? He shivers either way.
It's a long game, you know. It's taken months to even reach this stage, where the self-deprication is a rarity, not the norm. Maybe it'll take his whole life before he can accept every part of himself like you can, before he can truly see himself through your eyes, gleaming and gem-speckled as they are.
You free your hand from his, reach up instead to knead shampoo into his thick hair. He responds with a sigh and sinks somehow further against you, the water falling slowly to a more lukewarm temperature. You're not sure how long the two of you have been in here, talking quietly about very little, exchanging words that'll disappear forever with the water. But you really can't find it in you to care.
There's work to be done, errands to run. Errands that should've been run a week ago. This ceremony, this meditation makes all of it null. For where else would you want to be? Where else exists besides here, this room, this moment, static in the cooling water with the embodiment of perfection.
When you tell it to him, as you so often do, when you tell him that he's perfect, he can't believe you. The first time you ever said it, peering into his eyes as if they held some secret treasure within, he thought you were joking. He'd laughed, more out of obligation than actual humour, but your expression remained still. Sincere. To say he was moved would be a wildly inadequate explanation. What he felt in his chest that night was something otherworldly, something without a name. He's come now to associate it simply with yours.
You run water through his hair, rinse out the shampoo as he lies pliant in your hands. He insists you use your soaps in his hair, some floral-scented collection you've used for who knows how long, because the smell reminds him of you.
There's no point in overthinking it, you suppose. No point in trying to map out and organise moods, emotions. No point in trying to turn a gentle human experience into something clinical, something without humanity.
That swirling, omnipresent yet transient concept of humanity. You simply must cradle it within your own. You press your lips into his wet hair, whisper words made of ginger and lavender into his ear. Because at the end of the day, you're human. You're in love. And sometimes, that's all that matters.
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Two Little Suspects
See Me Through You Blurb
Synopsis: Y/N and her husband do the suspect challenge featuring her twin brother Ja'Marr
Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader
Requested by: @languageho3 and @hoodharlow 💕
Series Masterlist
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
Sighing as you heard the doorbell rang as soon as you had sat down at the couch instantly annoyed you. Joe was somewhere in the house and probably in his office downstairs going over film and figured that you had to be the one to answer the door.
As you approached the foyer, you could make out the tall shape of your twin brother without even having to see him face to face and quickly opened the door.
Even though he had literally been over for breakfast earlier that morning.
“So, ugly twin has returned. What do you want? Didn’t I just feed you like an hour ago?” You asked as you looked at your phone to see what the time was and he quickly rolled his eyes.
“Move your ass over so I can come in and besides that was breakfast and now I’m here for lunch.”
“Do I look like an all you can eat buffet to you?! Groceries are EXPENSIVE and you and Joe eat like yall have never seen food before in your LIVES.”
“Hmm, not to me but definitely probably to your husband. The all you can eat buffet I mean and um, so? He’s the highest paid quarterback in the league, he can afford it. Where is he by the way?”
“Minding his business which you should be doing sir. You have your own house, but no one would ever know it because you are literally here all the time. And I’m ignoring that first part.” You told him as you sat down on the couch as he sat next to you.
“I came over to see you because I was bored.”
“Well, I was about to watch a movie, but I have another idea.”
“Go on.”
“We’re doing the suspect challenge and I’m making Joe do it too because I have something to tell him. Let me go get him, actually I’ll call him because I don’t feel like walking.”
“Lazy ass. But what do you have to tell him?”
“I will put you out of my house if you don’t shut up. And I have to tell him about this.” You told Ja’Marr and showed him the picture that had been in your pocket as you clicked on Husband in your phone and Ja’Marr’s eyes went wide.
He answered on the third ring which had you confused.
“Hmm? Ignoring me, husband? What took you so long to answer?”
“Baby, I literally spent the ENTIRE morning with you besides you leaving earlier. I just wanted to look at film for an hour and I told you then you could have me for the rest of the day and it just so happens that I’m finished.”
“Good, come upstairs and pay me some attention.”
“What kind of attention? Like? Are you naked right now?” Joe asked as he whispered the last part and your eyes went wide.
“NO! Your best friend is here…. Again I might add talking about he's ready for lunch and getting on my last nerve as usual.”
“Don’t listen to her Joe!” Ja’Marr yelled and you immediately pinched him.
Joe’s laughter boomed through the phone as you could hear his footsteps coming up the stairs. Once he reached the top step, he hung up and made his way to the living room where both of you were to see Ja’Marr now deep in a bag of Doritos and leaned down to kiss you.
“Wait, where did those come from?” You asked him as he was crunching in your ear because he hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch and you didn’t remember buying any Doritos.
“The grocery store.”
“I will…. One of these days I am going to beat your ass for that smart mouth you have. But anyway everybody up and outside!”
“Why?! It’s our bye week! I want to relax!” Ja’Marr whined as Joe was just standing there.
“Because I said so and I’m the boss. We’re doing the suspect challenge.”
“NO.” Joe immediately protested and tried to run away, but you quickly grabbed him by his waist.
“YES! You are doing it and I don’t want to hear any complaints. You two outside, NOW.”
The three of you were now lined up on the pavement in your long driveway and you were up first as you handed Ja’Marr your phone to record it.
“You ready?” He asked and you simply nodded as you took off running.
“Suspect has the attitude of someone who is 6’5, but she’s only 4’11.”
You stopped running as he finished while Joe was trying not to laugh.
“AND?!?! The two of you would crumble without me. Give me that phone. Ja’Marr, you’re up.”
“Be nice to me now.”
“I’m never nice to you anyway, so why would that change? Anyway, start running.” You told him as you pulled down your sleeves because you were starting to get cold.
Ja’Marr did what he was told as you thought of something good to say.
“Hmm, the suspect claims that he comes over to see his twin sister, but is really trying to steal my man.”
“HE WAS MINE FIRST!” Ja’Marr exclaimed as you motioned for Joe to go next even though he was too busy laughing.
“You’re just another one of his groupies! Now come on, husband.”
“Here we go because I already know some wild shit is about to come out of your mouth.” He muttered and all you did was smirk at him as he started running.
“Suspect won’t let me hold it when he pees.”
“NOT YALL BEING NASTY.” Ja’Marr yelled as Joe was too busy laughing.
“Come on, babe. Just one time?!” You asked and your brother looked at both of you in disgust.
“No! And get over here because it’s your turn.”
“Make it a good one.”
“Suspect claims that she doesn’t want kids right now, but that didn’t stop her from wrapping her legs around me last night.” Joe finished and your eyes went wide.
You and Ja’Marr collectively gasped and all he did was pinch the bridge of his nose as you turned to Joe.
“No regrets, my husband is fine as FUCK. Just look at those frosted tips. I plan on wrapping…”
“OKAY, MOVING ON! SPARE ME THE DETAILS!”
“Ja’Marr don’t you want a niece or a nephew?” Joe asked him and he sighed.
“A smaller version of the two of you? I’m going to have my work cut out for me.”
Now it was Ja’Marr’s turn and he was smiling because he was waiting for you to tell Joe the news while Joe was going to record and he got into position.
“Suspect set me up with his sister and then proceeded to get mad when he found out that we were in a relationship and didn’t talk to me for two weeks.”
“AHT AHT! Because the two of you hid it from me! Nice try.”
“We didn’t hide it!” You exclaimed as Joe was getting into position for Ja’Marr to record him.
“You didn’t exactly tell the truth either. Anyway, moving on. Suspect is one of my best friends and because of him this is the happiest I’ve ever seen my twin sister even though the two of them make me sick.” As soon as he was finished Joe turned the camera to the two of you to show him leaning down to kiss you.
“Aww, that was cute. I guess you are okay, sometimes.” You told him as he rolled his eyes.
“Don’t make me take it back.” He told you as you took your phone back to record your brother.
“Suspect is the ugly twin who was found in a dumpster behind Popeyes in a back alley.”
“WE LOOK ALIKE, DUMBASS! And I just gave you a nice one!”
“YOU’RE ADOPTED! So I don’t know what you’re talking about! And I fed you this morning and that was nice of me! I could have let you starve!”
“I got one for you babe.” You told Joe and he nodded as he began to run.
“Even though suspects claimed that I don’t want kids right now, he’s in for a surprise because I took a pregnancy test two days ago and it was confirmed at my doctor’s appointment this morning. He’s going to be a father of not one, but two little Burrows.”
Joe immediately stopped and turned to you with a look of disbelief on his face.
“Are you serious? Baby, are you serious?” He asked as he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.
You nodded your head and proceeded to take out the sonogram picture from the pocket of your sweatshirt and handed it to him.
He stared at it for a few seconds before he immediately picked you up and you had wrapped your legs around his waist as he was planting kisses all over your face.
“See? That position right there is why she has two in her. Good lord, I wasn’t ready for one mini version of them and now there’s going to be two?!” Ja’Marr said as he had taken your phone and was now recording you and Joe.
“They’re going to need to pay me if they want me to babysit.”
#joe burrow#joe burrow x black reader#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow fluff#nfl imagine#joe burrow imagine#joe sheisty#joey b#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow fanfiction#joe burrow fanfic
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"I come from a big family; lots of siblings. Too many to talk about individually without taking all your time, so I'll just pick a few. Hmm... I suppose I'll start off with the eldest, Silas. I think he was about the best big brother someone could have. Strong, protective, loyal, kind-hearted. I looked up to him a lot as a little kid. Now that we're both grown, I find him a bit tiresome. Er- not for any bad reasons, though! It's just that his mannerisms have changed ever since he set out to sea. Sailors must be a rowdy bunch because he's just so loud and boisterous anymore. Between him, his wife, and his flock of kids; it's just a LOT of chaos to deal with all at once. Saps the energy right out of me, you know? He's a good person though, and a better son than me. He supports his family and is able to regularly send money to our parents, too. Still helping out with the farm even after he left! I'm happy for his success."
"Out of all my siblings, I spent the most time with Nine. We're pretty close in age and just sort of ended up being more of the oddballs in the family. I was because of, uh, my interest in magic… And having two tails… But Nine was sort of outlandish on purpose. Because she was the youngest, she often felt overshadowed and wanted to stand out. She's a girl? Well then, she doesn't want anything to do with femininity. She's named Nina? That's boring; she'll come up with her own name. No one likes to hang out with Tails? Well then, she will! Eh… heheh… Eh… It was nice to have one sibling to confide in and share secrets with now and then. I even told her about how I was baffled by romance and never wanted to marry. Instead of calling me weird, she made a pact with me to never get married either! Well… Until she met that girl, Fiona, and they started dating, but… It's fine. She's not beholden to some dumb promise we made when she was 12. We mostly drifted apart when I moved out anyway."
"Nowadays I'm not particularly close with any of my siblings. Or my parents. Growing up, I was more likely to keep to myself. It's um, sort of embarrassing, but I was kind of afraid of my family? I'd get this from everyone now and again, but my two older brothers especially liked to say that I was actually a changeling. You know, that their real brother was replaced as an infant by a spriggan, leaving behind me: a changeling. A… Fae creature. They said that Mother and Father would find me out soon enough and abandon me in the forest, back where I belong. Or that they'd beat me so I'd confess my origin and return the "real" Miles. Apparently my parents left my older brother, Manny, in the forest when they suspected him of the same thing, but he proved himself by making his way back home. C-Clearly just things they made up! A-And I don't have nightmares about it now that I'm grown… But, uh… I am ashamed to admit that I purposefully never really spent time with Manny because of that. I just- I didn't want to give them any more reasons to suspect me. He was a very strange kid, even to me. I regret never trying to understand him. I think maybe… We might have had a lot in common. And not because of anything to do with fae."
For characters!
If any of you have family, what's your family relationship like?
More character questions!!
#he still has nightmares#folklore au#miles tails prower#sails tails#tails nine#mangey tails#yes the butthead bully foxes are his siblings too in this. he has MANY OF THEM that I won't draw/mention xD#I spent way. WAY too long on this for absolutely no reason fkslfjsld#sonic au collision
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Entry 10: The One About the Audibly Loud Lukola FanFic
I’ll address the elephant in the room. And, no, I’m not talking about Jake Dunn’s brown suit! Or, that he’s posing with a man. Or, that Tyler commented “Bellissimo!!!!” on Jake's post.
I don’t think a lot of people understood the connection I was making this morning about “Mis-Directed,” Gwilym Lee, and Jake. So, now I feel the need to explain because I don’t want people running with a narrative that goes in the opposite direction of where I was taking it.
Sorry, JVN, you’re getting pushed to the side again. I promise, I’ll get to you one day.
Let’s go back two months…
On September 25, Nicola posted to her Instagram stories a link to Alex Babsky’s post, which was a picture of Nicola. She had her hair and make-up done but she was wearing one of her own dresses (the black dress she wore in Australia and Brazil). Babsky captioned his post “[pink bow] @nicolacoughlan in London today for…well, never mind what for actually [laughing emoji with hand over mouth] [winking emoji] [shushing emoji].” Nicola responded, “You’re amazing it was so gorgeous to see you xxx.”
Babksy’s caption sent the fandom into hysteria wondering what the hell Nicola was up to. It didn’t help that this was the same day Luke updated his Instagram bio and used “Xx” and it didn’t help that Nicola was wearing the black dress she allegedly wore on her beach walk in Brazil with Luke.
Do you want to know what I thought the photo of Nicola was from? I’m not going to lie – I thought it was pre-wedding makeup. Seriously, not kidding. It reminded me of my own wedding day. Formal hair and makeup and my own dress that was easy to take off without messing up the hair and makeup. I never said I wasn’t a little bit delulu.
On November 5, an author named Lucy Parker announced on her Instagram feed that she had a new Audible book called “Mis-Directed” being released in February 2025. The post came with pictures of Nicola wearing the black dress and the same hair and makeup as the September 25 post. Nicola (presumably) is reading the part of Hattie Murton, and Gwilym Lee (presumably) is reading the part of Anthony Rafe.
Oh, okay.
Turns out, I was wrong.
So, Nicola and Luke didn’t get married.
Fine.
I have always liked crows.
But, wait a minute – what the fuck is this Audible book about? A woman who stars in a romantic drama called “Leicester Square” (what the fuck?) which was adapted from a best-selling romance novel (what the fuck??). Then, in comes our antagonist, Anthony Rafe, who plays opposite of Hattie and, let me quote here, “But when very real chemistry sparks during their scripted love scenes, Hattie begins to think the industry’s legendarily heartless Bad Guy [Anthony] might just a have a pulse after all. And Anthony, for his part, is caught off-guard by the way his heart races when he’s around his aggravating onscreen lover. As reality starts to imitate art a little too close for comfort, the world’s most unlikely couple might just have more in common than they thought…” (what the fuck???).
Let’s start with Leicester Square. What the hell is Leicester Square? Oh, the name of the fake television show on which Hattie and Anthony star. Sure, Jan. Is it odd to anyone else that Leicester Square is the name of the location of where the London premiere of Bridgerton Season 3 took place? You know, the event that happened hours before Papsmear.
Then we have the make-believe show being adapted from a best-selling romance novel. Mmm hmm.
Let’s try and not make the connection between Luke and Anthony. Mmm hmm.
And, let’s add fuel to the fire and have two co-stars falling in love with each other.
Yeah, we get it. It’s a Lukola FanFic being read by none other than Nicola. I mean, the only way it could be any better is if Luke was reading the part of Anthony Rafe! But, no, that part is being read by Gwilym Lee (who is fantastic in everything he does, by the way).
Who is Gwilym Lee? Well, he’s an actor (my father calls him “Midsomer”). Ask Mr. Google about him. But, if you check out his Instagram feed, you will find that he knows Jake and has since, at least, 2022. Is it possible that Nicola met Gwilym through Jake? Yeah, it is.
Now, why do I find this situation intriguing? Specifically, why did I find the post from Jake this morning posing with Gwilym interesting (and a bit shady)? Let me explain.
The Jakholes took the “Mis-Directed” FanFic as shade towards the Lukolas. Yes, they went there because that FanFic does not (in the least) fit nicely into their Jakola narrative. I mean, if it wasn’t shade to the Lukolas, how weird the storyline must have been for Jake! The writing was audibly on the wall, in big red letters, but the Jakholes chose to spin it into something messier than my hair in the morning after sleeping on it wet.
What exactly is this theory? Well, per the Jakholes, Nicola hates the Lukola fandom so much that she sat and read (likely, for hours) this Lukola-coded FanFic just to spite us! I mean, Anthony is a bad boy in this story and “everyone loves to hate” him (don’t forget, Luke became the devil incarnate after Papsmear). And, Hattie is tired of the “brutal press, overly invested fans, and a cutthroat industry…[that] would give even Pollyanna an edge of cynicism.” The Jakholes believe this means Nicola is saying she’s really in love with Jake and she wants us all to know that by reading a Harlequin-style romance about a woman who falls in love with her costar! Oh, my God!! How could she?!
What in the actual fuck are the Jakholes drinking with this bullshit? I know, I know. I shouldn’t expect anything better from people who ship Jake with Nicola. In fact, if I was a Jakhole, I might buy into this conspiracy theory. But, I’m not a fucking Jakhole. And, guess what Jakholes? I don’t mind breaking the hearts of Lukolas by saying we’re probably never going to see sexy-hot Brazil pictures of Luke and Nicola, so I don’t mind telling Jakholes to put this theory back into Davy Jones’ locker and feed it to that bitch Kraken.
Let’s talk a bit further about the absurdity of this “Nicola is shading Lukola” subplot from Hell.
We will pretend Nicola hates Luke. She hates Lukola. She baits the Lukola fandom for shits and giggles.
What would this make Nicola?
It would make her a villain, for starters (and “villain” is me being extremely nice).
More importantly, it would make Nicola a PR nightmare.
Even if Nicola and Luke despised each other, do you believe Netflix, Bridgerton, and Shonda Land would allow Nicola to play games with the Lukola fandom? Talk about playing with fire!
The reality is the lines between Polin and Lukola are heavily blurred at this point. I hate to say it – and maybe a lot of you will view me as a complete asshole after I say this – but, if I learned Nicola was shading the Lukolas (therefore, in my opinion, trolling Luke), I would not be interested in Bridgerton Season 4. Or, Season 5. Or, any season after that. Or, in Nicola, for that matter. You’re welcome to have your own opinion about this but I would feel incredibly betrayed, and not just by Nicola. On top of that, for me, Polin has become Lukola. They’re so blurred, they don’t even resemble a line anymore. Maybe that’s a bad position to be in, but that’s where I’m at. Sorry, not sorry.
I’m not going to rehash the breadcrumbs left by Nicola that support Lukola – if you know, you know (or you can catch up by spending an afternoon on Tumblr). Even Luke, in his own way, leaves Lukola-coded crumbs. We also have damn convincing evidence that Netflix, Bridgerton, and Shonda Land support Lukola. I mean, even they’re blurring the lines with “Nicola and Luke’s Cutest Moments” and interestingly timed images of Polin. So, do you think they’re going to let Nicola fuck with that on a public forum?
That would be a cold, hard NO.
But, this Audible book – “Mis-Directed” – is loud and made louder because Nicola is reading it.
So, what is this Audible book? Shade? Or, Nicola being cutesy? I’m going to place my bets on the latter solely because, like I said, the Corporate Office is not going to let Nicola shade Lukola because it has a direct effect on Polin.
That’s not to say that the excitement of this Lukola-coded “Mis-Directed” FanFic wasn’t attacked by the Jakholes from all sides, and the wind – for the moment – was kicked out of it. That’s a different story for a different day.
But, what I found so intriguing about Jake’s post today is that, of all the people he could have included in his photo (because there’s obviously lots of people at this event), he chose Gwilym. And, this means people will look into Gwilym. People will realize that Gwilym is the other side of “Mis-Directed.” People will realize Jake and Gwilym are friends. People will realize that Jake’s friend is reading a Lukola-themed romance novel with Nicola.
And, if we agree that the book is not shade towards the Lukolas and we agree that Jakola is not real, what is the significance of the connection between Jake and Gwilym? Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe I’m overthinking it. But, the connection – at least in my mind (and it’s been there since November 5) – is that Jake supports “Mis-Directed” because he supports Lukola and he has always been there, helping Nicola lay the breadcrumbs. He wanted people to look into Gwilym and make the connection. Jake could very well be the one who suggested Gwilym read the part of Anthony. Jake is the degree of separation.
I want to close this out by noting that Jake also liked the post Nicola has pinned on her Instagram grid – the black and white one about her Time 100 article. You know, the one where Nicola says, “A lot of people really want me to marry Luke.” Follow the links and it will take you to this article. That’s an interestingly placed like by Jake, in my opinion – as is his photo op with Gwilym.
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