#this Would not have been possible without her
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I had always assumed that Father Christmas was an interdimensional entity, IE he was the same person as the Father Christmas from our world. He just also goes to any and all other worlds where Christmas is celebrated.
I don't have a copy of the book to hand so I can't really examine the text for a reason why I assumed this. Perhaps just the above-explored lack of a reason for Narnia to have its own separate version, or maybe little kid confusion about the difference between the country of Narnia and the world it exists in, also sometimes colloquially referred to as Narnia.
Also re: Jadis' jacked up border patrol: we kind of do literally see this with Tumnus trapping Lucy. Clearly the Witch had a lot of people on her payroll who responded to the presence of humans by attempting to trap or kill them -- there was likely a massive bounty for any captured or dead human and enough people desperate enough to cash in on it, so lone humans or small groups would never have made it very far. As to the possibility of Archenland invading and driving Jadis out by force, well, first of all we don’t know that it was never tried, but I imagine that if it was it was tried earlier during the hundred years of winter, rather than later, and most likely wasn't successful. We see in The Horse and His Boy that Archenland's military, while probably effective enough for the defense of their own in most cases, is pretty basic and seems to have little to no magic support. Certainly not the sort of military that would be able to make any meaningful headway against the Witch and all her magical minions and ability to turn people to stone. And without Aslan to rallh around they couldn't depend on enough help from the native Narnians to make a difference, not to speak of Aslan's ability to restore people who had been turned to stone, a group which probably encompassed the vast majority of Narnians willing and able to fight back against Jadis.
(Also circling back around to the Father Christmas thing I also headcanoned as a kid that the way Jadis kept it always winter was a sort of time-freezing spell. IE instead of just making it always snow, she was freezing time itself during the winter. It's always winter but it never gets to be Christmas because it was just. Always the same miserable cold day after the start of winter but before Christmas. And Father Christmas couldn't get in because it wasn't the proper time. My reason for headcanoning this was specifically because of all the plants that would have gone extinct in Narnia during a hundred year winter. Hibernation is amazing but it don't work miracles. But, if from the plants' point of view it was only one winter, well that makes a lot more sense. However this could also be explained by Aslan's proximity, given that he does also just kind of summon plants from nothing during Magician's Nephew. Or even, just, like, the existence of dryads. IDK.)
narnia has actually way too many completely devastating concepts in it that are not explored At All
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Knight in papaya armor - Lando x F. reader
Summary: Lando gets a late-night drunk text from y/n who seems to be intoxicated and in a weird place. Even when they've broken up he will search the earth to save her.
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mention of drugs, and roofies.
Word Count: 2.3K
Notes: I have something with exes, sorry not sorry.
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When Lando got your text at 2 am he knew you were either in trouble or wasted. You had only texted him a couple of times after the breakup. The first one was a drunk voicemail telling him how much he had hurt you, and the other was when you had been locked out of your apartment in the middle of the night, no locksmith was available and he still had a key. But this had been months ago.
He was playing with Max off-stream. It was Christmas break, and he needed a detox from social media. When your message reached him, and as soon as Mary gave him the location, he was on his way there.
As he drove through one of the shipyard warehouses, his blood rushed just thinking about you alone there. As much as Monaco was a safe country, there were some places you wouldn't like to find yourself alone as a young female.
He parked his car next to some high-end cars and walked with his hood up towards the pined place.
He got to a semy-hidden entrance where a suited man stood blocking the door, looking at his phone.
"Invite code?" The man spoke without even looking at him.
"I don't think I need one" He rarely face-carded his way into places but knew there was no other way he could make it inside.
The guard looked up from his phone and took a close look at him, he was about to dismiss him when a drunk guy inside yelled his name.
"Lando? Lando Norris?" The drunken guy approached the entrance.
"Yeah" he simply answered.
"Mate, come on in" The drunken guy tapped the guard on his shoulder, and he moved to the side allowing the driver in.
"What can I get you?" The blond guy offered Lando a glass of champagne as soon as he was inside, the driver took it but had no intention of drinking it, he just needed to find you and get you the hell out of there.
"Thanks, I'm looking for a friend"
"I haven't seen any of the other drivers here" From the way he was dragging his words, Lando hoped his drunken state would make it easy to ditch him as soon as he had found you, allowing you two to escape the dark place.
As his new "fridend" kept talking, he looked around, a bunch of nepo babies, sketchy guys, and mostly underage girls in revealing outfits swamped the place. He could feel his heart rate rise just looking at the way most of the guys were behaving towards the drunken girls, and as he imagined you being treated the same, made his blood boiled.
"Sorry mate, the restroom?" He asked the blond guy.
"That way"
"Thanks" he patted him in a friendly way and walked towards the spot the guy had signaled.
When he was out of sight, he walked the place looking for you, trying to hide his identity. He was losing his patience by the second as he looked at the amount of alcohol and drugs being passed around.
He started looking for a red dress, and he could finally breathe when he found you. The moment he caught a guy's arm wrapped around your waist and saw him talking to your ear, he saw red. Without a second thought, he made a beeline towards you not caring anymore about pushing people to the side and being recognized, he just needed to get you out of that place, fast.
"Y/n" he yelled as he was arm's distance from you. The confused look on your face as soon as you saw him pained him a little. Usually, your eyes lit up when you saw him, but not this time.
"Lan?"
The guy next to you turned to look at Lando, annoyed.
"I need to talk to you" Lando took you by the arm and tried to pull you towards the exit but the dark-haired guy grabbed your hand before you two could walk away.
"Excuse me, she's busy"
"This will be quick" Lando tried to sound as friendly as possible.
"Don't think so, mate" The dark-haired guy pulled your hand harshly.
"Don't do that" Lando spoke menacingly.
"What are you going to do about it?"
Without a second thought, Lando punched the guy hard in the face making him lose his balance, his drunken state making it easy for him to fall and difficult to stand back up. He knew now, more than ever he needed to get the hell out of there. He grabbed your hand and pulled you fast toward the exit. Thankfully the people around you were too out of it to catch what had just happened.
You stumbled trying to keep up with him, but the heels and the amount of alcohol in your system complicated the task. You reached the entrance, the big guy in the suit was about to stop you but Lando swiftly shouldered him out of the way. He knew he had to run fast to his car so he pulled you over his shoulder and rushed to his car as you fought hitting his back and yelling for him to put you down.
He opened the passenger door, throwing you in as carefully as he could, and rushed to the driver's side, spinning his wheels leaving the bodyguards behind.
He reduced the speed once he was in the safety of the Monegasque streets.
"What the fuck?" You yelled annoyed, but he just kept driving silently, his knuckles white from how hard he was grabbing the steering wheel, breathing deeply, trying to ease his rushing heart.
"Lando, what the hell?"
Still no answer from the driver.
He got to your place and parked in the familiar spot.
You stood in the car in silence for a couple of minutes, the look on his face calmer now, but you knew him very well, it was one of those tense moments when you would just sit there silently waiting for someone to finally break the silence.
"Let's go" He opened the door and walked to the passenger side to open yours.
You stepped out the car, the look on his face softer now.
He touched your lower back and led you towards the elevator. You expected him to walk you there and return to his car, but he stepped in and pressed your floor.
You rode the elevator in complete silence, the alcohol in your system had gone down a bit, allowing you to stand up without any aid.
He walked you to your door, and you searched your bag for your key.
"Shit" you softly cursed under your breath.
A breathy laugh left his body as he searched his pants, took out a couple keys, and opened your door.
Yes, you had forgotten to get the keys back that last time he had helped you, or more like he had managed to avoid giving them back, just in case.
You stumbled in kicking your shoes off, and he did the same, remembering the no-shoes rule in your apartment.
"What the hell were you thinking?" He finally spoke.
You sat on the couch, confused, what the hell was he doing there? how the fuck he had found you?
"What are you doing here?" you tried to sound annoyed, you weren't sure why you were mad at him but knew you should be.
"You messaged me"
"What?" You took your phone and looked at the drunken texts. "Ugh"
"I'll take that as a a thank you"
"What should I thank you for? I was having fun at a party and you punched your way there"
"Actually, getting inside was the easy part" he joked, standing before you. He stared at you, assessing your estate, worried you had been drugged or something. From the way everyone was behaving at the party, he wouldn't find it weird the asshole talking to you had tried to spiked your drink.
"You can stop staring" You said trying to get his eyes off you. You had broken up six months ago but he still made your heart rush.
"Just making sure you're ok"
"No need, I'm perf-" A gag cut your speech short. "Fuck" you stood up and rushed to the toilet.
He walked behind you. You slammed the bathroom door in his face, but he stood outside as he heard you puke your guts out.
"I'm fine," you yelled behind the door. He smiled softly at your stubbornness; it was a sign you were okay, well, as much as you could be. He walked to the kitchen, giving you some privacy as he turned on the coffee machine.
You exited the bathroom a bit more sober now, your face damp from the water you had splashed over it trying to ease the dizziness and the minty taste of the toothpaste trying to cover the shameful puke aftertaste.
"Here" he offered a cup of coffee.
"Thanks" You took it and walked back to the couch.
"How did you find me?" you asked before taking a sip from the warm liquid, wincing at the bitter taste of the mint and coffee mix.
"Mary"
"She gave you my location?" Mary had spent the last six months cursing Lando's name.
"As much as she hates me she was worried about you too"
"Oh shit" That meant this was just the first time you were going to be scolded about tonight and Mary's version was definitely going to be worse.
"That's right, you scared us both, young lady"
"Don't call me that, i'm older than you two"
"Just one year, and it sure doesn't seem like it from the way you behaved tonight"
You rolled your eyes at his response and took another sip from the mug. Now that you were more conscious he knew it was time to lecture you, not that he never did stupid things, but this had actually been dangerous.
"Seriously, y/n" he sat on the coffee table in front of you, his hands on your knees sending electric waves through your body. "You can't do that again, please"
"Do what?" you tried to fight him.
"This, going to those places alone! do you know what could've happened?"
"It was just a party, I'm not a teenager, and I don't know why would you care anymore"
"I will always care about you, always"
"What?"
"Y/n, I love you" He softly said as his fingers caressed your knees under the satin fabric.
Your mind rushed, trying to remember the last six months, searching for the reason you had broken up and to remain apart. But there wasn't a specific reason, it had been a weird mix of life pulling you apart, his season being chaotic with the championship pressure, and your last year of school and the internship taking every minute of your time, making it impossible to support him like he wanted, making you feel guilty and making him feel alone and like a burden. He was the one who had offered to take a break, not because he didn't love you, on the contrary, he saw how you were trying to rip yourself into tiny pieces to fit school, work, and your love life, but it was too much, your sleeping and eating habits a mess trying to keep up with everything.
It pained him seeing you so worn out, and he felt if he pulled himself out of the equation, you might have time to take care of yourself, but of course, you weren't ok with it, your stubborness always trying to keep up with everything.
The day you broke up, you were running on 2 hours of sleep and two Redbull cans, the lack of food and tiredness blew everything out of proportion.
"If you don't want to be with me anymore, just say it, there's no need to make up all these dumb excuses!"
"Baby, listen to me"
"No! Just admit it, Lando, you don't want to be with me anymore!"
"Y/n, please listen to me" He tried to explain himself but you just grabbed your suitcase and rushed out of the apartment.
He tried calling you for days, but you were too burned out to listen to him, crying yourself to sleep every night for the next couple of weeks until Mary cornered you in some kind of intervention and kicked some sense into you. Of course, you had only told her your side of the story making her hate his guts for breaking her best friend's heart.
You cringed at the memory, feeling guilty as it downed on you he was just looking after you.
You looked down at the mug between your hands.
"Baby" Lando's hands took your face when he noticed a tear falling down your cheek.
"I'm sorry" you sobbed.
"There's nothing to be sorry" He sat by your side, hugging you tightly against him. "Baby, shhh, it's ok"
"No its not, I ruined it"
"No you didn't"
"I did, you were just trying to take care of me"
"I still do, I'll always will"
"How can you forgive me?"
"There's nothing to forgive, we were too tired and too busy to think things straight"
"You're too nice, I don't deserve you"
"No one really does"
You pushed yourself away to stare at him. A cheeky smile on his face.
"I'm kidding" He approached you and tried to kiss you but you turned away.
"Wait, I puked" you tried to push him away but he held you tighter against him.
"I don't give. shit" He turned your face and kissed your lips softly.
"I'm sorry" You said when he pulled back.
"Stop apologizing" he kissed you harshly now.
"But I really am. I wasn't thinking straight and I made Mary hate you"
"We both were too into our own stuff, and I'm pretty sure she didn't quite like me in the first place, so no damage done there"
"Are we..?"
"Do you want to give it another try?" His eyes glinted from excitement.
"Do you want to?"
"Of course, but you’re the one telling Mary we’re back.
“Chicken”
“She might actually kill me if I tell her”
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Thanks so much for all your love, feedback is greatly appreciated and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.
Tag List: @wtrmlnsgr94, @ricsaigaslec, @ironmaiden1313, @formulas-bitch, @f1fantasys
#f1 fiction#f1 imagine#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#f1 x reader#lando x y/n#f1 x y/n#lando norris fluff#f1 smut#lando norris smut
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Can we pretty please have one of au powder where shes in love with us instead of ekko? 🥺 PLS
sí
notes: fluff, established relationship, wlw content, possibly ooc
‘ wrapped around your finger ’
powder x female reader
sometimes powder catches herself staring at you.
she would have been in the middle of meddling with one of her personal projects, eyes narrowed and nimble fingers straining to screw a pesky tiny nail, until the next thing she knows is she had suddenly turned to look at you sometime in the middle of working. she has no idea how long she had been staring for, watching you sitting beside her just a few feet away, but she jumps when your head lifts and your eyes land on hers.
looking a little panic-stricken, powder twists herself back around, readjusting her hair.
“how’s it comin’ along?” your voice sounds from beside her, making her release a breath and smile gently.
“just have some screws to tighten and light varnishing to apply. after that—should be pretty much complete.” powder finalizes looking down at her project with a proud smile, which makes yours widen. oh how adorable she could be without even trying.
you hum in acknowledgment and drag your stool to get closer to her. the only reason you had been sitting farther away from her in the first place was so she could have the room she needed to work on her things. but now she looks set to take a break, and you’ll steal any moment you can get your hands on to spend time with her.
after getting permission to touch it you pick up the object and turn it around in your hands, looking closely at all of the details and ridges. powder’s creations never fail to impress you, and it makes you admire her more after each and every one she shows you.
“as perfect as all of your other stuff turns out.” you sigh almost dreamily, placing it back down and looking at powder who’s already staring at you with a cautious expression. it softens a little and she shrugs carelessly.
“i wouldn’t use ‘perfect’ to describe my works. but i appreciate it anyhow.” powder says, avoiding your gaze and leaning her arm on the table. you’re brows immediately furrow.
“you should have more confidence in your work. you have a wonderful talent, powder.” you place your hand on her shoulder and lean closer, “show it off with pride.”
you finalize with a kiss to her freckled cheek.
powder’s cheeks heat up as she smiles down at you gratefully. she feels so incredibly lucky to have you in her life as a supportive figure, and you being her girlfriend at the same time just makes it 100 times better.
filled with an affection, powder takes your hand resting on your lap and laces your fingers together, silently raving at the way it sends happy jitters and butterflies in her stomach. her head rests atop yours when you lean it against her shoulder.
“and i mean it, lovely.” you add firmly, making powder chuckle softly.
“thank you. i appreciate it a lot. more than you probably know.”
you huff a laugh through your nose and lift your head to look up at her closely with a cheeky smile. with your free hand you poke her cheek playfully, “oh, you make it known~, don’t worry.” your joke manages to not go over powder’s head, causing her to blush and roll her eyes giggling.
“shut up! you joke about it now, but you’re not laughing once i actually get you wrapped around my finger.” the blue haired girl quips, leaning in close with a smirk and blue eyes filled with something mischievous. that makes your eyes widen—the overtly sexual innuendo was uncalled for coming from her.
your shoulders bump as you two tease each other back and fourth under your breaths, hushed giggles echoing around the large open space of powder’s private workshop; your bodies subconsciously having gotten closer with hands starting to get curious.
in a moment of silence, your eyes flutter down to powder’s lips. her own doing the same, both of you exchange a silent confirmation and slowly close the distance between you.
unknowingly to both of you, someone is approaching. the sound of footsteps halt and someone clears their throat some 15 feet away. yours and powder’s lips just barely graze when you both hear the intruder, causing you both to jump away with gasps. at the sight of the third person in the room you’re filled with immense annoyance, peeved at being disrupted.
“sorry to intrude, but, vander sent me to look for you. you’re 20 minutes late to your shift.” ekko’s eyes awkwardly shift around the room before focusing on powder, “you probably don’t wanna keep him waiting much longer…”
you frown. the girl is immediately shooting out of her seat and cursing at herself, knocking things over while scrambling to grab her stuff scattered around the area. you grimace and reach out to help her out.
“fuck, he’s gonna be so mad. i’ve never been late before!”
“we can give him and excuse.” ekko calmly suggests in hopes of calming powder down.
“tell ‘im you ate too much cheese and couldn’t leave the bathroom for an hour.” you smirk. ekko chuckles beside you against the railing, shaking his head.
powder only scoffs. “don’t make this a joke.” she grumbles. she stands up straight and tosses her bag over her shoulder, “we need to go now. please.”
she’s already halfway out the door.
the two of you walk down the busy street with your arm hooked around hers, the warm sunny weather making it feel as though someone lit a candle in your chest and made a lovely home there. ekko walks alongside you, rambling passionately about his concepts for an upcoming project of his own while you smile in acknowledgment and give your own comments.
you still deeply wish you could have more time of the day to spend with powder, alas she has a job. but so many hangout ideas are swirling in your brain and making you skip in excitement at the thoughts.
next think you're going to do is sunbathe and go for a swim in the river; a perfect way to celebrate the oncoming summer season.
#powder x reader#arcane powder x reader#powder x female reader#powder x fem!reader#jinx x reader#jinx x female reader#jinx x fem!reader#lesbian#wlw
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j.b.b | The Grinch
Summary: Y/N can’t travel to see her family on Christmas so she invite her grumpy loner neighbour, Bucky.
Pairing: Post blip!Bucky Barnes x f!reader
Warnings: Use of Y/N and feminine pronoums, a few mentions of food and alcohol, angst, some vulgar language, everything is in the summary really, this is set like the falcon and the winter soldier never happened or it's happening before that.
Word Count: 3.5k
A/N: This is the 4th Xmas OS of the series. So sorry it is a couple of days late. Please do share and like if you enjoyed it, it means a lot! Merry Christmas!
2024 Christmas Masterlist | Main Masterlist
18th of December
$125
Y/N blinked at the number being displayed on her phone’s screen. She had stopped right in the middle of what she was doing, in utter disbelief of her discovery. Her whole process of thoughts seemed to have frozen; just like her computer would display “error 404” when she would perform contradictory actions.
She didn’t understand how this was possible; something was wrong obviously wrong because she didn’t expect this number to be displayed. Refusing what she was seeing, she logged out of the app and then back in a couple of times.
Yet, every time, the sentence was the same.
$125
Despite everything, this was currently the amount of money Y/N had on her bank account. These past couple of months, she had been saving for this moment; a moment she had been imagining all year long and for which she expected to be shredding happy tears. Instead, the tears currently running down her cheeks were made of pure anger.
She found the culprit quite easily. A monthly interest payment of a loan that was playfully mocking her on top of her bank statement. Now that she was thinking of it, she should have probably read all those letters; the ones with the red-inked stamp “urgent” printed on them. She had found all the excuses in the world: especially how exhaustive was she after having worked double shifts almost every day lately or that it had just been easier to have them sitting on her coffee table.
Y/N had no idea what she would do. If $125 was probably quite enough to eat until the end of the month if she made a few compromises, there was no way she would be able to buy flight tickets to get home for Christmas. She would have brought them earlier if she had been able to – at a time she still had the money on her bank account, for example – but her colleague had only confirmed that same day they could take over her shifts during the Christmas week. Now, she didn’t have any money and would be alone for the year-end celebration.
Her cell phone ringing made her snap back to reality. She was still in front of her building, keys in one hand, frozen in her action to enter. Her heart sunk has she discovered the picture displayed on the screen; her sister and her, one of the last pictures they had taken together, at Y/N’s university graduation ceremony, a couple of weeks before the blip. Her sister was most likely calling her about this “very good news” Y/N had texted her about that afternoon. Now, she only had to let her know that it had been a false alarm and that she wouldn’t be able to make it home this year.
Again.
It wouldn’t be the first time indeed. In fact, ever since the blip had been reversed, Y/N had not been home for the Christmas. At first, she had chosen not to. She was the only person in her family to have been gone. Without her, they all had continued with their lives, and the post-blip had been brutal for her. One second, she was full of life: she had just gotten an amazing job in New York, and she was going to live her dream. The other, the blip had happened, five years had passed, and she had lost everything. Her family, her job, herself. Her little sister was now older than her, graduating college and ready to start a family. Her parents had retired and started a new life in California. She didn’t have a dream job anymore; she had no job at all in fact. In this world that had changed so much, she felt out of places. So, she did what she thought was could do. She left everyone behind and moved to New York.
The months after moving there had been full of hope. Hope that she could still make it to her dream job and life after all. She had gotten in touch with associations working on helping people post-blip. They said: if she took a few classes, she could be retrained on the most up to date information and she would be able to get the job she had always dreamt of after all. Yet, it was even worse than college. She had to work part-time to be able to take the night classes. She either worked or studied; leaving only a few minutes a day to eat, sleep and bath. This was until some court bailiffs came banging to her door. The banks had been quick to be back to find the people that had disappeared and were now asking them to provide the past five years’ debt payment. All of her dreams had been shattered yet again.
Determined not to ask for help, Y/N stayed in New York and totally forgot about her dreams. Instead, she found another job at a bar-restaurant – one that paid better than the cashier part-time job she had until that – and worked there ever since, trying to pay off her initial student loan and the other loan she had had to take to be able to repay the requested five-years’ worth of debt in one go. She was now planning every spendings up to the last penny. She was living off diluted body and hair shower gel and all sorts of techniques to have the impression of having eaten a lot more than she had. Yet, it hadn’t been enough.
It was never enough…
Drying off her tears, she answered her phone and stuck it against her ear with her shoulder while she entered the building. She was quick to break the news to her sister. She kept her voice steady, not showing any emotions to shorten the conversation as much as possible. She did so as she collected her mail and then turned to take the stairs up to her apartment.
On the phone, Y/N didn’t see her neighbour coming down the stairs and eventually run straight into him. She would have fallen down the two steps she had just climbed if he hadn’t caught up by the arms at the very last moment.
"For fuck’s sake!" he sighed angrily. "Can’t you watch where you’re going?"
Y/N only answered by rolling her eyes. She picked up her phone from the floor; her sister was still on the line, calling after her. While she turned it to her, she discovered her screen totally shattered. She would have cried if she could have…
Without further ado, she put her phone back to her ear and continued to go up the stairs. Her neighbour – a guy that moved in a couple of months ago and that was hardly saying ‘hello’ the few times they had seen each other in the hall – huffed and without thinking nor turning back, Y/N flipped him off. She would probably be ashamed of this later, but at that moment, she couldn’t care less of what he would think of her.
She couldn’t care less about anything anyway.
20th of December
Two days later, as Y/N was slowly accepting the fact that she would not be with her family for Christmas, she encountered her favourite neighbour in the hall again.
She had just gotten home from work and was collecting a parcel in her letterbox. This was a present for her sister that she wouldn’t be able to give her in the end and for which she couldn’t even pay stamp to ship it to her home. She would be lucky if she could return it and get a few dollars back.
As she was closing her letterbox, her neighbour entered the hall. Feeling a little guilty about the other night, Y/N’s first thought was to apologies for her behaviour. A quick look at the guy and the constant frown on his face made her swallow her saliva; hard.
He was good-looking though, with his blue-piercing eyes and full lips. The stubble on his chin –always of the same length whenever she would see him – let her think that he was taking care of himself; though the way he dressed was clearly demonstrating he wasn’t really on point on the fashion side. If he wasn’t always so… whatever he always was… she probably would have liked him. With his grumpy looks, he reminded her of this movie character she liked so much when she was a kid: the Grinch.
In silence, Y/N watched from the corner of her eyes as he also checked his mailbox, a couple of meters away from hers. After gathering the few letters in the box, he sighed and abruptly closed the door.
“What now?” he asked as he turned to her.
Y/N jumped to the tone of his voice. He was clearly annoyed at her while she hadn’t done anything. At least that day.
“No need to be a dick,” she quickly bit back, annoyance building up in her voice as much as his, and he huffed again – this seemed to be something he would do a lot. She had to take a quick deep breath before continuing: "I wanted to… apology for the other night.”
The words nearly burnt her mouth as she was saying them. It cost her a lot to admit her wrongs, yet his cold eyes only started at her, and he spoke no words back. She didn’t know how she wanted him to react, but his absence of reaction startled her, and only made her want to justify herself further.
“I wasn’t in a good mood,” she added.
“You are not the only one to have bad days,” was all he said before leaving.
Taken aback, Y/N watched as he climbed the stairs and disappeared out of his sight. She couldn’t believe how much of a jerk he had been. She swore this was the last time she would ever speak to him.
22nd of December
Y/N rarely overslept.
The only reason for that was that she didn’t sleep a lot. Ever since the blip, she had trouble finding sleep and then, staying asleep. It was like her body had a big fear of missing out on everything and anything, so it just let her sleep the number of hours she needed to keep going. She would have thought that with the double shifts she was doing, she would have slept better, but she didn’t. Instead, she stayed wide awake in her bed, fixing the ceiling, eyes heavy with tiredness. She had all this time to think about the misery of her own life.
However, it seemed that night that the tiredness had gotten the most out of her, and as she never set an alarm clock – because she rarely needed, she was now going to be late for work. She took only a couple of minutes to get ready, drink a coffee and brush her teeth all at the same times. Ten minutes later, she was already grabbing her stuff and putting her coat on.
As she opened the door of her apartment, she came face-to-face with her neighbour going up the stairs. They both immediately stopped in their tracks.
He looked at her. Her eyes still puffy from the fact she had still been sleeping less than fifteen minutes ago. Hair all other the place even if she had put hair clips in them to keep them into place. She had dressed up in such a hurry, the shirt of her uniform was halfway in and halfway out of her pants.
She looked at him looking at her. With the same frown on his face and the same cold glance. Just this time, the circles around his eyes were darker than ever and he looked much more tired than her. For the first time, she saw something vulnerable in him, a flash of sadness in the blankness of his face.
They looked at one another. So different yet somehow similar. With their inability to sleep properly, the memories that kept them up at night and their resentment about this life that had been taken away from them. Both of them with all their trauma and weaknesses. With their constant melancholy and sometimes, their good days.
They looked at each other some more and then they both continued on with their day.
24th of December
Y/N was just settling on her couch – which was also her bed – in front of the TV, wrapped in her fluffy blanket and two pairs of fleece socks on her feet when she heard a knock on her door. She froze instantly; bad memories coming back to her in an instant. She had been visited a few times by different people always banging on her door at sunrise; each time, it never had ended well. Per pure reflex, she held her breath as if whoever was on her front door would be able to hear her - the walls were probably thin, but not this thin.
After counting to ten and not hearing anything else, she relaxed into her sofa. It was probably just her imagination at this point, this was how tired she was. She reached for the remote on the coffee table and started an episode of her favourite TV show. This was when she heard a knock for the second time. One time too many for her.
This time she paused her show and got on her feet to have a look. Sulking for the five steps it took her to go to the front door, she opened it bluntly and was surprised to find her neighbour ‘The Grinch’.
He looked at her, surprised and she looked at him, probably even more surprised. Her gaze turned instinctively to her feet and the fluffy pyjamas she was wearing. She couldn’t help the heat crawling up her neck, so she looked back to him and her eyes got stuck on his hands. One of flesh and one of metal. Holding a metal box between them. That he was now holding up to her.
She frowned.
“For you.”
Her eyes moved up to his face again, to check if he was serious or not. She could have fallen asleep the minutes her show started and be dreaming; though from how cold her feet were, she was pretty sure she wasn’t. Nothing on his face indicated he was joking – he didn’t seem to be the type to joke anyway. He wasn’t actually frowning, but he still had a small wrinkle in between his two eyebrows from all the frowning he was doing that somehow it still looked like he was. She wouldn’t say the expression on his face was friendly, but it had something that for once made her not want to close the door on his face.
Perhaps, it was because of the straight line his lips were in. They which were was usually so pink and so… luscious. From that, she couldn’t tell what he was feeling right now – was he nervous? Or simply contemplating all his life choices now that he was in front of her. She knew it was costing him to be here in front of her.
She looked back at the metal box in his hands; was he really expecting her to take it?
“My ma’ used to cook cookies for our neighbours,” he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His glance adverted to the ceiling as if he was looking for the right words to continue: “I thought maybe… this was a good way to apologize. For the other day…and all the times before that.”
This time, it was Y/N’s time to stop frowning – she would have to check later if she had also a wrinkle. She took the box he was handing her and nodded, in some sort of way to mean ‘thank you’. The box was heavier than she had expected it to be. She wondered if he had made them himself, like his ‘ma’ was probably doing.
“My name is Bucky by the way.” Was all he said before leaving her like that, a box of cookies in her hands.
25th of December
Working at a restaurant had its own perks. One of them being that Y/N could have at least one meal a day in the form of the staff meal. And on special occasions – like today – she could even get home with leftovers, most of them she would normally stock up in her freezer to make sure she had something to eat in the next couple of days.
That day though, when she climbed up the stairs, she didn’t stop on the second floor where her apartment was. Instead, her feet got her to the fourth floor, on the second door on the right. One she had never been to and yet, she knew exactly where to find it.
She didn’t hesitate one second before knocking, though the few seconds she had to wait she did get cold feet and wonder if it was really a good idea. Bucky did have gifted her handmade cookies – she had eaten a couple after he left while watching her favourite show, and it was the best she probably ever had. However, it did not mean they were now friends. They were just two adults, seeing each other in the hall of their building sometimes. That was all… Then, why was she so damned pulled towards him?
Bucky opened the door when she was about to turn around. He had a blank tank top and black pants on. Thankfully, he did not seem to be in the middle of a Christmas dinner and his apartment was pretty quiet behind him. His usual frown had been replaced by raised eyebrows. He was surprised to see her, on Christmas day, in her work clothes, at his door. He would have probably expected her to be in her family, with her friends or boyfriend, even. Instead, she had nowhere better to be than in front of him, right now.
They stared at each other for what seemed to be a long time, before his cat – Alpine as he called after, while trying to stop it to get outside his apartment – came to rub itself against her legs. She immediately lowered herself to scratch it behind the ear and Bucky observed them without a word. His cat, who was usually more than a little fearful of people it didn't know, was on the verge of lying down on the floor and beg for belly rubs.
“Are you on your own too?” was the only thing he spoke, and she got back on her feet, suddenly remembering why she was actually here.
“Wanna share?” she asked while showing him the paper bag in which she had the leftovers from the restaurant.
His eyes scanned her face a little too long for Y/N’s liking that she grew nervous. She felt like an idiot, believing… whatever – she wasn’t even sure she was believing. She was just lonely, having been alone for too long. The only people she hung out with would be her colleagues, on her work time – and they had taken a drink together after work a time or two. Most of them were students or only planning to be in the job for a couple of months before bouncing back. None of them was like her, as if she had been the only one to disappear off of the surface of the earth.
Over the last few years, she had repeated to herself – over and over again – that she didn’t need anyone. It was true somehow; she was fine alone. It was just that today she wanted a break from all of this, and she had thought of him. Because she had seen the veil before his eyes. She had seen it on hers before. She knew why… He was just like her. And perhaps, she had thought, they could be alone together. That was what they called the Christmas spirit, no?
“I mean, I’ve got more than enough, and you can have some. We don’t need to eat together. Totally fine if you wish to be alone.” She overexplained, speaking so fast he couldn’t say a word, even if he wanted to. She was just going to go home anyway. It was probably already late in the day; she would eat some food because she could – it was a victory on its own. “And you’ve probably already eaten, it’s fine. Don’t mind me.”
She was going to turn around, but he stepped on the side, making room for her to get in. Alpine instantly trotted in, its tail straight as a pick.
“I’ve got Gin,” was all he said again. A man of a few words he was.
And that was how they would both of them spent their first Christmases with someone in years. They would drink gin, try a bit of every leftover Y/N had gotten and finish by some kind of French pastry neither of them knew how it was named. They would speak for hours – or sort of, it was a few words here and there, making sentences altogether. They would have a good time and when it was time for Y/N to go home, she would suggest doing it again and Bucky would smile in response. A soft smile that would warm her heart forever. A smile that illuminated his whole face and probably his life.
And perhaps that was what exactly what she had come to find that night.
Some warmth.
#lea's writing#jbb#lea's 2024 christmas series#christmas fic#bucky x reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes one shot#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes x you#bucky angst#bucky barnes x female reader#mcu imagine#mcu oneshot#marvel imagine#marvel one shot
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Yeah. At 19, I was finally diagnosed with autism and as unable to live independently without years of occupational therapy and my mother said "fuck that" and threw me out of the house two days later. She'd fought the doctors my entire life to stopbe from being diagnosed, because then that would mean there was something "wrong" with me.
I was homeless for over a year. I'm no longer homeless, mostly due to getting very very lucky with circumstances outside my control (like the fact that I was young enough and had been homeless long enough while continuing to take classes at the local community college to qualify for a government grant for Unaccompanied Homeless Youth, which allowed me to get an apartment. And i was only able to take classes because I was poor enough that the classes were free, and because i had a broken laptop and it never got stolen AND i already knew how to fix computers so I was about to Franken-Computer it into it being and staying at least slightly usable AND the fact that the nearest Starbucks was understanding and didn't throw me out or call the cops when I spent hours in there to do coursework), so my mother takes this as a win. Obviously, the doctor must have been wrong because when I was forced to sink or swim, I've stayed alive (very literally in this case).
I would argue that even now, going on a decade later, I'm not so much "living on my own" as I am "barely surviving", but I try to make it very clear, both to her and to people I tell this story to, that the problem with "Sink or Swim" is that people who sink fucking DROWN.
Because even as someone who was forced, and who managed to just barely keep my head above the water... I'm a very staunch opponent to the idea of Sink or Swim. What I had to live through was horrible, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone else. But not only that, I was very acutely aware that my only options were to figure it out or to quite literally Die.
As someone who survived the extreme of the other side of this coin that OP is talking about... the idea that I or anyone else could manage to survive such circumstances and then turn around and insist that the ends justify the means is both baffling and appalling to me, though I know that it very much happens. I cannot see it as anything other than "I suffered, so you should have to suffer too." It's awful to be on either side of this coin, and if you think it's okay for force people to Sink or Swim, whether you've been in that situation or not, than you can fuck right off with that shit.
Side note, I'm someone with support needs on the higher end of medium. I still can't manage to brush my teeth independently, and I don't manage to feed myself consistently, though I at least manage to do it often enough to get enough calories in me to stay alive (and that's ignoring anything other than calories that make up a healthy and balanced diet, because that's not an option for me. It's eat whatever junk food I manage to get into my my mouth or starve). I have to rely on schedules, because my brain doesn't really understand what hunger feels like. I just eventually feel like I'm going to throw up, and if I'm lucky, my brain figures out that I haven't eaten in all day and that's probably why. But there are days when, even if you put a plate of food in front of me, it wouldn't occur to me to eat it. I will just sit there and stare at it (or into space) without outside promoting to eat. I maybe manage to take out the trash or do laundry every two weeks if I lucky, and sometimes it's only once a month, or less. I have plastic bottles that haven't been taken out in at least six months, and probably closer to a year. Perhaps the only reason I can see the other side of this coin is because I basically live as close to edge as is physically possible without going over the edge, but I really hope that's not it. I don't think people should have to be constantly teetering on the knife-edge of this reality to understand that It's Really Fucking Bad to force people to Sink or Swim, or as I prefer to call it, Survive Or Die.
I don’t think people understand how it is to have been behind on EVERY milestone. Learning how to walk? Late. Learning to read? Late. Learning to use the bathroom independently? Late. Every single milestone was late.
And when you have this, people ask questions. People bully you. Why can’t you shower by yourself at 9,10,15,20? Why can’t you brush your teeth independently and frequently? Why can’t you tie your shoes? Why can’t you do math? Why can’t you do this, or that.
And then there’s the people on social media. “Well I was forced to.” “Well I didn’t have a choice” and that’s understandable and completely valid, but there are people that no matter how much you force them, or neglect them so they “figure it out” they won’t “figure it out”. They’ll die. They’ll starve. They’ll not bathe and be dirty.
Higher support needs people don’t just “figure it out” our brains are wired differently. Our brains don’t get that we HAVE to do these things just to survive. So we don’t. And that sucks.
It’s disheartening to constantly hear people say “well i was forced to” because so was I!! I was forced to do things too! I was neglected too! And guess what? I still didn’t do those things. I STILL wasn’t able to meet those milestones.
The big one that I see is “well I’m forced to talk.” And I get that, but me, a person that’s nonverbal, can’t be forced to talk. No matter if I’m neglected, no matter if my device is taken away or I have no way of communication. I still wouldn’t be able to talk. I CANNOT force myself to talk. Get that through your heads. This is my reality, and although yours sucked there are still some people who cannot do things, and saying that they could if they were “forced” is invalidating of them.
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My EPIC Journey
Where do I even begin? I have dreamt of being an animator ever since I was a little girl, growing up with the Disney animation renaissance era as well as a non-stop barrage of anime, in particular Dragonball Z. I even wrote in my high school yearbook that I dreamed of one day working for the studio that worked on Dragonball Z just so I can animate for that very series. And I made sure everyone knew it LOL
The dream didn't materialize, but after decades of struggle, I got something far better than I could ever have imagined. I get to animate at the comfort of my own home. I get the career I've always wanted, and am able to generally work at my own time. I get to work with a wonderful team (drawmisu, Camalemsy, Novi, Nathan Kuan, Jenny) who are generous with their time and talents and are fun to work with. And I get to work with wonderful clients who have changed my life and afforded me and my family the comforts we are enjoying, from Mortius, to Casper Fox, but most of all to Jorge Rivera-Herrans, whom I fondly call simply as Jay.
Jay gave me the amazing opportunity to be part of the roster of talented (skillented according to Casper) animator for the official EPIC: The Musical animatics and animations. He entrusted me with his vision, is just an overall joy to work with, and as some of you may know during the Vengeance Saga, literally saved my life for the simple fact that he commissioned me two animations (Dangerous and 600 strike finale), which allowed me, who does not have health insurance, to afford expensive care for a bad case of pneumonia. Without Jay, I would not only have reached my dreams, but I would literally not be here typing this. (Don't worry, with the generosity of my clients, I am actually now shopping around for a good health insurance company....which I know is a hot button topic right now, but I don't live in the US and our private health care here is often times better than public).
But I digress.
With the premiere of the Ithaca Saga, comes the conclusion of the concept album of EPIC: The Musical. But as Jay mentioned, the journey is far from done. I have so many things planned: more commissioned animatics from clients whom I also consider dear friends, more EPIC fan animatics and animations, more musical animatics from other IPs, an animated short, an animated trailer for my upcoming animated pilot episode, and so much more in the future!
Everything I have, the happiness and contentment that I am experiencing right now would not be possible had my paths not crossed with Jay's and his wonderful EPIC the Musical project. Our paths would not have crossed where it not for the EPIC fans who relentlessly tagged him in my animated works, which made him take notice and reach out. And I would not have become a big fan of EPIC, where it not for my cousin Julia, who had been relentless in her goal to turn me into an EPIC fan ever since the TROY saga dropped (I will never stop thank you, pinsan! Love you so much!)
This is not goodbye. This is see you again soon.
REAL SOON.
Bye for now, you guys! This has been Gwendy from NS2D Studios saying, I will see you, when I see you.
#epic the musical#animation#animatic#musical theatre#ns2dstudios#odysseus#odyssey#jorge rivera-herrans#jay herrans#animator#my story#animators on tumblr
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The P Word
Author’s Note: Two fics in two days?
In 2013, Joe sent a dm to a recruiting analyst for scout.com, asking which camps he should attend because he was flying under the national radar.
Most four star recruits get about 20 college offers. He had 12.
At Ohio State he sat on the bench for three years, only gaining attention as a scout team player who would later have to graduate in three years just so he could transfer and get some playing time elsewhere.
That same scout team player would become the best player in college football and a Heisman trophy winner and the number one pick in the 2020 NFL Draft. A few years after that fateful private message to Dave Burk.
Robin Burrow had been there the entire time. Through every shining moment and the times that seemed rather dark. She drove two hours to do his laundry just to make sure he was physically and mentally healthy when he lived in Columbus, has attended every game since he began playing sports, made him snickers salad when he tore his ACL…and when he tore his scapholunate ligament in his wrist. All in all, she’s been a constant presence in the midst of all of the mayhem. To be frank, there’s nowhere else in the world she’d rather be than between him and anything that could possibly serve to harm him or cause him any pain, no matter how old he is.
That included protecting him from himself.
The last few months had been filled with joy. After the news of his engagement, the wedding planning process had been smooth. You and Robin along with your mom, had gone to several appointments together and Joe had even added his input in most of the details without you feeling like you had to twist his arm and force him to participate.
You were now in the home stretch of the most important day of your lives. Less than two months from now you’d be saying “I do” to the love of your life. And Robin had taken her role as future mother in-law very seriously. You knew that Joe was a mama’s boy, his brothers much older than him with their own mom, and it was clear to anyone with eyes that he was Robin’s pride and joy. But not in a creepy way that would get them to star in a TLC show. It was just very evident that she was proud of him and his achievements and that she didn’t mess around when it came down to business.
After one of your dress fittings, she pulled you aside. “There’s one quick thing I need to mention to you. You’ll be getting a formal document in the mail in the next few days. Nothing huge, just a formality that Peter and the team drafted up for you to sign. I hate the word prenup but that’s essentially what this is.” She said in a matter of fact way. “We just need to make sure to dot our i’s and cross our t’s if that makes sense. Get the boring stuff out of the way so that we can focus on showering you and Joey with our love on your special day.”
“No that makes complete sense, just send it over and I’ll sign whatever you need me to. Thank you Robin seriously, for everything. You’ve made planning this entire thing a breeze.”
She shakes her head with a genuine smile, giving you a warm hug. “This has been an honor, I’m so happy for the both of you sweetie. I’ll see you in a few days for brunch at your house? The kids are so excited they won’t stop talking about it.”
“Yes absolutely, I can’t wait either it’s been so long since we’ve gotten both families together it’ll be really fun.”
There weren’t many opportunities for your family to interact with Joe’s and vice versa, unless everyone met at a football game but that wasn’t exactly quality family bonding. That felt more like a collective screaming match where the adults pregamed with beer and the kids wore his jersey. Most of them didn’t really know what was going on in the actual game. So you and Joe were going to host both sets of parents, all of your siblings and their kids in order for everyone to really spend time together before the wedding.
A few days later, you were finalizing the menu with the catering company when Joe came home.
“It’s gonna be like Cheaper by the Dozen in here tomorrow,” he notes, grabbing a Body Armour from the fridge. “Are we sure we’re ready for this?”
“We kinda have to be. Should we do smoked salmon or shrimp crostinis?” You held up one of each and let him examine them. He snagged the salmon one first and took a bite then did the same with the shrimp.
“Definitely the salmon. What time is everyone getting here?” The catering people jot down their last notes and head out the door after you and Joe thanked them.
You could tell he was going to need time to mentally prepare in case he got overstimulated. “They’ll be here at 1pm, so you can probably get an early workout in and take a nap afterwards,” walking over to him on the other side of the counter, holding his face in your hands. “I know you get cranky when you’re tired and Uncle Joe needs to be at his best tomorrow because the kids will need a QB for their flag football game.”
He wraps his arms around your waist, sticking out his lips that are begging to be kissed. You happily grant his wish, pressing your lips against his, giving him a quick smooch. He asks for a few more, about to get lost in a full make out session when a stack of papers on the counter catch his eye. Joe pulls back so abruptly that your face smacks against his chest.
“Sorry baby,” he cradles your head, reaching around you to grab the piece of paper that’s on top. You take that as your cue to go after his second apology for nearly giving you a concussion. That chest is a brick wall.
The more he skims the words, the tighter his grip gets on the little sheet and the confused look on his face deepens. “Um…what is this?”
“What is what?” You give him a look that matches his energy.
He holds up the paper. “This. What is this? Where did you get it from?”
You look around the room to make sure you aren’t getting Punk’d. “Wait—are you being serious?”
“Do I look like I’m joking,” it wasn’t a question. He’s legitimately starting to look upset. “Who gave this to you?”
“Joe,” you let out a dry chuckle, “your mom did. Said it was a formality and that I should sign it and give it to her so she can hand it off to Peter so your lawyers can process it.” When your fiancé continues to stand there motionless in the middle of the room, that’s when it hits you. “Did—did you not know about this?”
He usually has something to say about everything, so watching him silently shake his head is a little scary. Joe places the first page of the prenuptial agreement on the table with a heavy sigh, visibly trying to compose himself. The man had the patience of a saint, known to have blow ups on the field but that was Football Joe. Off the field Joe was calm and rarely ever let things get to him. You’d probably only heard him yell twice in the entire time you’ve been together. And now he was dead quiet. You didn’t know what to do with that.
“Joe, your mom is just trying to protect you. Get this out of the way so that we can—”
“Please don’t try to defend her right now,” his tone was laced with venom, a seething anger you hadn’t seen before and weren’t too keen on getting familiar with. “I don’t like that this was just drafted, printed and handed to you without my permission. She and Peter shouldn’t have done that. And my mom definitely shouldn’t have ambushed you with this.”
Now he was being dramatic. “Robin didn’t ambush me! She told me a couple days ago and I thought you knew so I didn’t mention it.”
“I would never do that to you,” he says with a pain in his voice that makes your chest clench. “WE, you and I should be talking about this. Not my mom and Peter. Jesus.” He rested his arms on the counter, running his hands through his hair.
You hated seeing him get worked up like this, crossing the room again to place a comforting hand on his back. “Why don’t you talk to her tomorrow, I’m sure she didn’t mean to upset you. She most likely just thought she would do this for you so you didn’t need to worry about it.”
“That’s the thing, this isn’t something she should be doing for me. We’re getting married. You’re going to be my wife. There’s no reason she needs to be handing you documents on my behalf like you’re some fucking stranger. I don’t care how ‘busy’ I am. You come first.” You can feel the tension in his muscles even when he stands up to his normal height. He’s really trying to keep it together, giving you an empty kiss on the cheek before heading into his office to cool off. An hour later you head up to check on him, assuming he has his headphones on and can’t hear you, you find that the door is locked.
Tomorrow’s brunch is going to be very interesting to say the least.
Joe surprised you by being in bed by the time you came upstairs to get ready to go to sleep. You thought for sure he’d be on a run to clear his mind. As soon as you climbed in next to him he put his phone away, wrapping his arms around you and giving your body a squeeze.
Whatever private meeting he had with himself must have done the trick because he was actually letting you be the big spoon for once. His touch was soft and intentional, the previously icy aura was liquified and only warm and cuddly Joe remained. “Are you okay?” You asked him and he nodded without looking at you. He just interlocked your fingers in his before sitting up.
“Switch me.” You knew the little spoon wouldn’t last long. “That’s better,” he sighs kissing your head, feeling at home with your arm draped across his waist.
After a few seconds of silence he mutters, “I’m so sorry this is happening. Are you sure you want to sign up for a lifetime of this?”
You look up to meet Joe’s gaze to see if he’s trying to be funny. “A lifetime of you? I can’t think of anything I would want more. The rest of it is just extra, the good and the bad. As long as I have you I don’t care.”
His shoulders sag once again in relief, “good.” Joe peppers a few kisses on your neck, making his way up to your jaw, taking his sweet time until he got to your lips. A joyous hum leaves his mouth as the kiss grows deeper, each swipe of his tongue against yours makes you feel dizzy…love drunk. Nothing compares to the way that Joe kisses you, sensually careful but hungry at the same time, almost as if this is the last thing he’ll ever get to do. This kiss is different, it’s a promise to always protect you, to never let the outside noise sway what his heart knows is true. He’s found the one person in the world that consistently makes his heart sing and no one—not even his mom—will have the final say. And he was going to make that very clear.
When Joe sluggishly came down the stairs the next day rubbing his eyes after his nap wearing a hoodie and cargo pants, you were just thankful he wasn’t in sweats.
“Hi there Sleeping Beauty, I’ve already gotten a few texts that most of them are about five minutes out.”
“Great,” he grunts, parking himself on the couch, “I’m starving,” he scoots around trying to subtly adjust himself.
Joe stares at you , running his hand down your thigh. “Hungry…for food right?” You give him a pointed look.
“Yeah, yeah for food. What did you think I meant?” He laughs as he catches the pillow you launch his way and scoot far enough away that he can’t grab you.
“Don’t. Today really needs to be a stress free day. Can you promise you will be nice and not yell at your mother?” And with that statement he is no longer in the mood.
“I will not yell at my mom,” he crosses his arms over his chest with a scowl only like a youngest child could. “Can’t promise I’ll be nice.”
Before you can negotiate any further the doorbell rings and your first guests arrive. Nieces and nephews come running in, suffocating you with hugs and the youngest one tugging at Joe’s legs demanding to be picked up. Less than 30 minutes later the entire backyard is filled with kids playing tag, drinking juice boxes while the adults enjoyed the appetizer spread.
Joe wasn’t making it blatantly obvious that he was mad but he wasn’t exactly hiding it either. He kept the greeting with his parents short, keeping his distance throughout the afternoon focused on entertaining the kids and playing the perfect host.
“I just realized I never asked,” Codie, one of Joe’s sister in laws speaks up. “Where are you two going for your honeymoon?”
“Bora Bora! I can’t wait,” you respond, topping off her wine glass.
His brother Dan’s ears perk up. “We were thinking about going there for an anniversary trip. Are you guys staying in a resort?”
Joe shakes his head, “I got us an underwater bungalow. The view is supposed to be insane.”
“Yeah I bet,” your dad notes.
“Take lots of pictures,” his dad adds in.
He waits for a second taking a mental note of his mom’s silence throughout the conversation, nudging you to make sure that you’re on the same page. By the time everyone was gone you needed something stronger than wine. Robin and your mom insisted on helping you clean up but you let them know that the caterers were coming back to grab everything. As you bid your family goodbye and thanked them for coming, your mom whispered in your ear, letting you know that the man inside was a keeper. You responded by telling her you intended on keeping him.
Once the door was fully closed you could breathe a sigh of relief…until you heard Robin ask Joe what was going on with him.
Here we go.
Joe didn’t respond. He just went up to his office and came right back down with the prenup in hand. “Care to explain?”
“Oh,” she looked rather unfazed, “Peter and I thought that—”
“And that’s where you went wrong,” Joe interrupts, voice surprisingly even. “You and Peter don’t get to ‘think.’ You don’t get to do whatever you ‘think’ I need. You have to ask me.”
You can tell she’s visibly taken aback at how this has gone. “It was not at all my intention to go behind your back. You’re just very busy and now with wedding planning and everything else, it just made sense to get it put into place so you’d have one less thing to worry about.”
“Mom, I get that. But you crossed the line here. I’m an adult who would’ve liked to have a mature conversation with the person I am going to marry about a topic that is extremely uncomfortable for everyone. It is not your job to play the middle man here. There is no middle man. This is between y/n and I.”
The tension in the air was getting a little too thick for your liking. You stood next to Joe, running your hand down his arm trying to diffuse the situation as much as possible. “Okay I think you’ve made your point. Robin, I am not at all upset with you, this can all be resolved rather—”
“I am upset with you mom. There was no reason to hand over that document without at least giving me a phone call,” Joe counters, starting to stand in front of you a bit like he’s physically shielding you from her.
“Now Joey I don’t think your mom meant any harm,” Joe’s dad speaks up seeing his wife almost in tears. “Why don’t we all just take a breather here.”
You nod in agreement.
“I’m so sorry, to both of you. In hindsight that wasn’t the best way to go about it but like you said this is uncomfortable. I thought keeping it casual would remove some of that awkwardness and I just made it worse. I really am sorry.”
Joe still seemed unmoved but you really didn’t think she needed to apologize this much. He just told her he appreciated the sentiments but that she needs to recognize that’s he’s an adult, telling them goodnight and immediately heading upstairs.
You’re left to walk them out alone, giving them both hugs goodbye. “Honey I’m so sorry,” Robin states again, “I never want you to think that I don’t love you or that I was intentionally going behind Joe’s back. I was just making sure we have all of our bases covered so we aren’t sweating the small stuff on your big day. I hope you can forgive me.”
“You’re totally fine, I understand. And I agree. I think he just got a little freaked out at the reminder that his life is abnormal. He wants things to be simple and sometimes they just aren’t. That probably stressed him out a little. Or a lot.”
It feels good to leave their tense interaction with her smiling. Even though it didn’t reach her eyes like usual, it was still a small step forward.
“How can you not be upset about this?” Joe asks after brushing his teeth.
You focused on what was going on at your sink, taking your time to complete your skincare routine. “Because I see where both of you are coming from. You have every right to be angry at her for doing this behind your back. But at the same time I understand why she feels like she should get a jump on protecting your assets.”
“Protect my assets…” he scoffs, “…from you? What’s mine is going to be yours.” He hands you a towel after you wash your face, having memorized the steps at this point.
“Yeah ok, legally. But your accomplishments and accolades are yours. That’s how you got here and your mom saw all the blood, sweat and tears that went into you being in the position you are today. She may have overstepped a little but you’re still her baby at then end of the day and sometimes it’s hard for them to recognize that they have adult children who are fully capable of making their own decisions.” He grabs the moisturizer off the counter and places it in your hand as you laugh, whispering thank you. “My mom has done the same to me, not to this extent obviously because we’re in completely different tax brackets but—they just want to make sure we’re okay no matter what.”
Joe leans against the counter, deep in thought. Growing up with his dad coaching it was usually just the two of them, she drove him to basketball and football practices and tournaments, took him to school and worked the entire day at school and came home still ready to dedicate all of her time to him if he asked. “I was too harsh wasn’t I?”
“A teeny bit? Maybe? I do thoroughly appreciate you looking out for me though. Going to bat for me against your mom of all people.”
He shrugs, giving you a hug from behind, resting his chin on your head. “She protects me so somebody’s gotta protect you. That’s what I’m signing up for and I promise to always take that job very seriously.” I should put that in my vows, he tells himself. He leans over a little more to press a kiss against your temple.
“Is that a promise?”
“That is a promise,” he holds out a pinky, making you gasp as you turn around.
“Isn’t a pinky shake you and Ja’Marr’s thing?”
Joe looks at you sheepishly, smiling so wide his eyes crinkle. “I won’t tell him if you don’t.”
You lock your pinky in his, kissing the smile off of his face.
That night before he went to sleep, he texted his mom telling her that he loved her. You gave them privacy when she came over the next day, smiling and hugging it out so you assumed everything went well. You hoped to have open communication with your kids even as adults one day, but did not envy the journey that your parents were constantly navigating. This once tiny person you created and had to make sure to teach them everything was now not only getting married and had established their own life but in Joe’s case everything was heightened. She’s been there through her son being the overlooked player who Urban Meyer said threw like a girl to now if he so much as has a paper cut an entire city of people, a whole fanbase is worried and asking for minute by minute updates on his condition. You couldn’t imagine the whirlwind that must be.
So you were going to sign that prenup whether Joe liked it or not.
“We need to decide on bridal party gifts,” Joe suggests a week later. “I was thinking about getting the guys customized golf carts. They could be delivered straight to their houses after the wedding or I could have them dropped off the day we get and they can drive around the property whenever they need to get somewhere? What sounds better?”
“It sounds like you’ve had this very specific plan and just couldn’t wait to make your big announcement. How am I supposed to compete with that?”
Joe laughs, grabbing his water. “You can give them all Cartier bracelets, have the wedding date engraved on the inside. That’d be pretty cool.”
Cool and expensive. “Don’t do that, I can actually hear what you’re thinking.” Curse him for knowing you so well. We’re only gonna do this once, might as well do it right. Make it a great experience for everyone we love.”
“Fine. You’re right. But we are not doing an ice sculpture then.” He gives you a blank stare but says nothing, both of you know that it’ll be coming back up sooner rather than later. “There is something else we need to talk about though.”
He rolls his eyes, deciding this is the perfect time to get up and put his plate in the sink, like you can’t just follow him. “We really don’t have to do this.”
“Oh but we do. Joe seriously we’re gonna have to figure this out. It’s important.”
He lets out a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling before putting his eyes back on you. “I’m just uncomfortable with any conversation that plans a breakup. I don’t ever want to breakup.”
“Then let’s not breakup and we won’t even have to worry about any of this. We’ll discuss the details, I’ll sign it and we’ll never talk about it ever again. Deal?”
You place a hand on his cheek and he kisses the inside of your hand before he speaks. “Deal. I can’t wait to marry you. Even got a countdown on my phone.”
“That’s probably the single most adorable thing you’ve ever said.” He pulls his phone out to show you a countdown app with a timer down to the hour the ceremony is supposed to start. A picture from your engagement shoot is set as the background. “I can’t wait either. I love you, so much.”
“I love you more.”
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"Agnes!"
The door slammed open, causing the chief handmaiden's embroidery needle to slip and jab her thumb. She hissed a curse and stuck the injured appendage into her mouth to staunch the bleeding as the queen entered in an excited flurry.
"Agnes! There you are!" Queen Tabitha declared. "We've been going about this all wrong!"
Agnes blinked at her, confused for a moment before remembering Tabitha's latest obsession.
"So." the queen said, settling into the empty chair across from Agnes. She continued with a manic gleam in her eyes, "Helena and Beatrice went to the training grounds to deliver cold drinks. Tomas was there, shirtless and sweaty and gorgeous... well, he started showing Bea the sword forms-"
"Wait..." Agnes interrupted, rubbing at her temples. "Who were you trying to set up Tomas with?"
"Helena!" the queen said, "try to keep up! So Tomas and Bea are doing their thing, and Helena is watching them with the most profound expression of longing."
"That's... good?"
"She wasn't watching Tomas," the queen said, slamming the table with her palm and grinning. "She was watching Beatrice. Do you know what this means??"
That Helena has the hots for Beatrice? Agnes thought to herself. That did explain quite a lot...
"It means..." the queen drawled. "We've been neglecting at least half of all possible match ups!"
The queen pulled a notepad out of a pocket in her dress and it took everything in Agnes' power not to groan.
"What we need to do is figure out which of the knights in my personal guard are gay," Tabitha declared.
Somewhere between most and all, Agnes thought to herself.
The vows of celibacy were worded in such a way that actually made it inviting for a certain kind of lifestyle. How the queen had gotten this far without realizing that was beyond her.
"Do you fancy women?" Tabitha asked suddenly. "Is that why you haven't married?"
Agnes nearly choked. How on earth was she supposed to answer honestly?
"It's alright if you do," the queen went on absently as she began furiously scribbling notes. "We've known each other long enough that you should know I wouldn't have a problem with it."
The queen paused, glancing her way before resuming her scribbles.
"If you did, what kind of women would you fancy?"
Maybe the childhood friend who gets too wrapped up in her hairbrained schemes in a way that's somehow endearing and agravating all at once.
"What was that?" Tabitha asked, not looking up from her notes.
Oh fuck, had Agnes said that part out loud?
The Queen just recently learned that the knights of her personal guard had all sworn vows of celibacy as part of their initiation. She's been bored lately and wants to spice things up in the castle, so she decides to secretly play matchmaker between them and her handmaidens and retainers.
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝕲OOD LUCK, BABE (X’MAS SPECIAL)
Sophia Laforteza x fem!reader
summary: when sophia left for dream academy, she bid you a quick and gut-wrenching goodbye then disappeared from your life. now, two years later, when she’s welcomed home for the holidays, she has mixed feelings when she sees the new boyfriend you’ve brought to meet your family
warnings: nsfw, suggestive/sexual themes, harsh language, angst, mean!sophia, toxicity, jealousy, cheating, dom!sophia, sub!reader, degradation
Y/N always knew Sophia was going to a pop star. She was so passionate about singing, so passionate about performing, she knew her ambition would drive her to success.
The Laforteza’s and the L/N’s were extensions of families. They spent every big holiday together, ever since Y/N and Sophia were babies. Growing up to be best friends, then something more in high-school, it was safe to say the two were closer than they wished they were. It made falling in love easier; hence, it also made the heartbreak just a little harder.
Y/N remembered pacing around Sophia’s room, her chest tight and beads of tears spewing from her eyes as she watched the Filipina pack her suitcase.
“Sophia, please,” Y/N pleaded, “Just stay a little longer.”
Sophia shook her head, her lips pursed together. Her gaze fixed on piling her clothes neatly in the suitcase, refusing to meet the younger’s bloodshot eyes.
“My flight’s early, I don’t have time to stay.”
“I just—I just want you here with me for a little longer. Please, baby, I don’t want you to go.” Y/N begged. She lied, she did want Sophia to go, because it meant she would be taking this big step towards her dream. But the way she was acting like she didn’t mean anything really stung.
Sophia’s arms slumped, her head thrown back with a sigh.
She didn’t want to drag it out—the suffering. She wanted to rip this bandaid off as quick as possible because she knew Y/N would never recover otherwise.
“I think you need to go home,” Sophia said, “Now.”
Y/N’s lips pursed into a pout, her hands shaking and her glossed eyes glaring at Sophia. Even in her attempts to look resentful, like she absolutely hated Sophia for gutting her with such heartless comments, she couldn’t.
Sophia could still see the glaring signs of adoration. Of love.
But she wouldn’t budge, and Y/N left. Sophia would leave for two years, solidifying her place in Katseye, without saying goodbye. And after about a year, Sophia found herself thinking back on the way she’d left things whenever she was left alone wallowing in her thoughts in silence.
On Christmas Eve, Sophia’s hot breath fogged in the crisp December air as she stepped out of her car. The snow crunched beneath her boots, the familiar smell of pine and firewood kissing her senses. After two years away, everything still looked the same—her childhood home nestled at the end of cup-de-sac, the warm glow of Christmas lights and blow-up decorations twinkling in the windows and the roof.
And yet, everything felt different.
The last time Sophia stood here, her dreams had been too big for this little town. She’d rushed her best friend, her love then out the door and shut her out. She bid her a quick goodbye, but they both knew it was a goodbye that carried the weight of finality. Life at Dream Academy swallowed her whole, and she had the benefit of not having time to think about the state of heartbreak she had left Y/N in. The gruelling, seemingly endless rehearsals, competitions, and performances leaving little room for texts or calls with anybody.
Now, standing in the same driveway, she felt a pang of guilt. Y/N deserved more than the silence Sophia had given her.
The door swung open, and Sophia was greeted by her dad beaming back from the other side of the doorway. “Sophia, you made it!”
“Hi, Daddy. Merry Christmas.” She forced a smile, wrapping her arms around him as he pulled her into a tight hug. Inside, the chatter of familiar voices inside reached her ears, and she braced herself for the reunion she both longed for yet dreaded. “Sorry I’m late, traffic from the airport was horrible.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it, baby, I’m just glad you made it. Come in, come in! Your mother’s just setting the table, but everybody else will be so happy to see you.”
The house was bustling, with the scent of cinnamon and roasted turkey filling the air. Sophia greeted family members, greeting the children of her aunts and uncles. Y/N’s dad was by the fireplace, sharing a laugh with her own. It was a tradition for their families to spend the holidays together, a bond forged over decades of friendship.
When he spot Sophia, he stood, his arms wide open.
“Oh, Sophia! It’s been a while. How are you, my dear?”
She was like a second daughter to him, but a huge surge of guilt swirled in her stomach when she saw just how happy he was to see her. It made her think about how heartbroken she had left Y/N. It also made her wonder if their parents knew about their relationships—how they ended things.
“I’m—I’m good. I’m glad to be back.” She smiled politely.
“It’s great to see you, Sophia. Really. Have you seen Y/N yet? She’ll absolutely go crazy when she sees you.”
Sophia pursed her lips together. “No, not yet.”
“Well, she should be just around here—!”
And then she saw her. Y/N stood near the kitchen, her smile as radiant as ever. But it wasn’t just her.
Sophia’s heart dropped.
Next to Y/N stood a guy, his arm draped casually around her shoulders. He was tall, with an easy charm and a laugh that seemed to fit perfectly into the room. He had defined features, shaggy dark brown hair and icy blue eyes. He looked like the boys Y/N used to date before Sophia, the picture perfect type of guy she knew Y/N’s parents wanted. Sophia’s chest tightened as she watched him lean in, whispering something that made Y/N’s cheeks flush.
From across the room, Y/N caught Sophia’s dumbstruck gaze. Her own eyes widened, taking in the majestic sight of the Filipina standing amidst her family again. In a way, she looked like she was back where she belonged, but somehow still managed to stick out like a sore thumb.
“Sophia,” Y/N gasped, breaking Sophia’s trance. She crossed the room with a wide smile, pulling her into a hug. “Hi.”
“Hey,” Sophia managed, her voice catching. Her arms hesitantly hooked around Y/N’s tinier frame, a hand sliding to give her a quick squeeze. She wanted to say more, to explain her silence, but the words stifled in her throat.
A cleared throat interrupted their moment.
Y/N stepped back, her hand slipping into the man’s behind her. His hand casually slid to palm her hip, tugging her towards him in a possessive manner. Sophia felt like gagging at the sight, but she somehow struggled to look away. “Sophia, this is Matt. My, uh… my boyfriend.”
Matt extended a hand, his grin warm and genuine. “Matt Sturniolo. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Sophia replied, her voice steady even as her stomach churned. All that training put into putting up an act for work seemed to be paying off.
“You’re… Godfrey’s daughter?” he asked, receiving a quick nod and tight-lipped smile from the Filipina. “How do you two know each other?”
Sophia eyed Y/N, not sure which explanation she wanted to say; “We used to date until I had to leave the country to chase my dream” or “I used to fuck your girlfriend behind the backs of guys like you.”
“Uh, well, Sophia and I grew up together. Uncle Godfrey and Dad are really close.” Y/N explained, a hand on Matt’s chest as the man nodded. “We were best friends.”
His fingers smoothed out the creases in her dress over her ass, clutching her close to him like a trophy.
Sophia wanted to punch his lights out.
“How have you been? How’s life in LA?” Y/N asked, her eyes holding Sophia’s gaze. Her face still held the same sincerity, the same kindness Sophia took advantage of two years ago.
The Filipina nodded, “Good. It’s going good so far.”
The younger smiled, her bottom lip tugging in between her teeth. “That’s nice to hear. Your folks missed you a lot. They have me over more just to have a voice around here.”
Speaking of her folks, her mother appeared in the doorway between the vast living room and the kitchen. When she spotted her daughter conversing with Y/N, she let out a loud sigh. Her arms waved above her head, jogging over to tackle the singer in a hug. Sophia laughed, hugging her mother as the older woman squealed in excitement.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Oh, baby, you’re here! And you both are together again, ugh.” She clutched her heart, glancing between the two of them. “I’ve prayed for this day.” She kissed Sophia’s head, before turning to Y/N. “Y/N, sweetheart, will you please come help me with the cookies? I would ask Sophia, but y’know her, Ms. Clutz. I trust you around not things more than I do her.”
The Filipino clicked her tongue. “Rude.”
“And I see you’ve met Matt.” The man shot the mother a smile. She sighed, a hand squeezing Sophia’s arm. “Isn’t he just the most perfect boy you’ve ever met? I hope you find a boy just like him in the future, mahal.”
Nobody else seemed to notice, but Y/N caught the way Sophia’s guarded expression faltered just the slightest before that poker face of hers masked her true thoughts. She was never once to go against what her parents wanted, but what her parents wanted always seemed to be her getting married to a man and having grandchildren. Even then, Sophia knew the only person who truly understood her passion, the love she had for music and performing was Y/N.
But now she was too busy ogling Matt Sturniolo.
“Yes, of course, Mrs. L.” Her hand slid down from Matt’s chest, squeezing his hand briefly before she left with Sophia’s mother, arm laced around hers.
Awkward silence engulfed the two of them.
“So…” Matt began, “Heard you’re a pretty big star.”
Sophia hummed, shrugging. “Yeah, my bandmates and I work really hard. But there’s always room for improvement.”
“Yeah, yeah,” the Sturniolo nodded, “Look, I don’t want things to be weird, but I’ve heard about you and Y/N before you left and I just wanna say, she practically worships you.”
Sophia felt her heart begin racing. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ve only ever heard her talk about you once or twice, but… she loves you. A lot. You’re like the person she admires most.” Matt chuckled, “When we started dating, she had this notification on her phone to alert her whenever your band would put something new out. She stopped a couple months in, but she definitely still tries to keep up.”
Sophia hadn’t realized Y/N would know things about her and Katseye. It made her feel quite… exposed.
Yet, it felt freeing, to know somebody from her past cared.
And of all people, it made her feel guilty it was her.
“Really?” Sophia feigned happiness, “That’s… really sweet.”
“Anyway, you looking for a drink? There might be some beer or wine at the bar.”
Matt offered to go grab them some drinks, as if he was the host and she was the guest. It didn’t feel like her home anymore, watching the man work his way around her house, standing beside Y/N, hanging off her arm almost felt like he was replacing her in a way. Two years ago, she was in his place; she was the one pouring the greeting guests with drinks on Christmas eve, she was the one with her arm around Y/N, whispering things in her ear that made her laugh.
Now, it was all Matt Sturniolo this, Matt Sturniolo that.
Walking past the doorway to the kitchen, Sophia’s ears picked up on a familiar sound. A light, heavenly laughter that eased into the gentle crackling fire and faint Christmas jazz.
She saw her mother telling a story about some funny encounter she experienced that day, her hands focused on decorating the cookies on the tray. Beside her stood Y/N, in her element, a hand over her mouth as she tried containing that contagious laughter. One side of her hair tucked behind her ear, her eyes curved and soft and her smile grew.
She looked so beautiful. Fuck, how could somebody look so beautiful doing nothing?
Feeling her chest tighten, a tap on her shoulder shook her from her daze. Spinning on her heel, she was met with Matt holding up two bottles of beers.
“Woah, my bad. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Sophia sighed, grabbing the bottle from his hand. “Hey, Matt, can I ask you a weird question?”
The man furrowed his eyebrows. “Shoot.”
“How long have you and Y/N been… dating?”
He pondered a moment. “Coming on two years, why?”
“And has Y/N ever told you about her exes or…?”
He shook his head. “Not really, no. It’s a touchy subject. I just know the last guy she dated absolutely shattered her.”
Sophia wondered if Y/N was telling people her ex was a man, or if she just never corrected what people automatically assumed of her. Whichever one, it soured her mood.
“How long has it been since you’ve talked to Y/N?”
The question caught Sophia off guard. “Hm?”
“You and Y/N. You’re supposed to be best friends, right? But you two seem a little… distant. Don’t get me wrong, I know it’s not my place to say, but you guys don’t exactly give besties.”
For the rest of the evening, Sophia tried to focus on the conversations, the laughter, the shared stories of the past two years. But her eyes kept drifting to Y/N and Matt. The way he looked at her, the way she leaned into him—it was everything Sophia missed about her.
The evening wore on, and soon the house grew quieter.
It was easier to distract herself when she was bombarded with questions from relatives about her career. Eventually, Sophia stepped out onto the porch, the cold air biting her skin as she tried to clear her thoughts. She walked down the stairs to their backyard, taking a seat by their pool. She took her shoes off, dipping her feet into the lukewarm water.
“Thought you’d be out here.”
She turned to find Y/N standing behind her, arms wrapped around herself for warmth. The sheer long sleeve she was wearing definitely gave her no sense of warmth, especially not in the skirt she was wearing.
“Yeah,” Sophia mumbled, looking out at the snow-covered yard. “Just needed some air.”
Y/N reluctantly took a seat beside Sophia, who refused to look at her. She shook her Uggs off, feet sinking underwater as well.
“This is bringing me back,” Y/N chuckled, “To when we would just sit out here and we’d fall asleep after a late night dip.”
Sophia didn’t reply, just savouring the sound of her laugh. She didn’t realize just how much she missed hearing it until she heard it again. She don’t know what to say, she didn’t know if it would be appropriate for her to say anything.
“Did you miss me?” or “Do you hate me?”; no, “I’m sorry.”
Instead, Sophia opted for a passive statement. Her ego shielding her from seeing her true attitude.
“That boyfriend of yours seems nice.”
Y/N cradled herself, her hands slowing at rubbing her arms for warmth. Her gaze fixed on the Christmas lights dangling from the roof. It had been the second time tonight she’s left Matt to fend for himself in a room full of people he didn’t know. If they were anywhere else, she would feel bad; but, sitting here, just feeling Sophia’s presence after such a long time, Matt seemed to be the last place her mind was hung on.
“Yeah. He’s a sweet guy.”
Sophia rolled her eyes at the soft edge in Y/N’s voice.
The muffled sounds of the dinner party inside drowned in the sounds of their feet swishing water around.
“Hm, he looks exactly like the assholes you used to date,” the Filipina snarkily remarked, “Just your type.”
There she was, the mean Sophia that left and didn’t look back.
“He treats me well. And he loves me.”
“Yeah? Bet he loves sticking his dick in you more.”
Y/N’s shoulders stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sophia leaned back on her hands, a sardonic smile playing on her lips. “Come on, Y/N. You really don’t see it? He’s so… basic. Does he even know what you like? How to turn you on—?”
“That’s enough, Sophia.” Y/N’s voice wavered, but her eyes stayed steady.
Sophia leaned forward, her expression softening for a moment. “I’m just saying… it doesn’t seem like he’s what you need. Your taste got better, but now it just kinda plummeted again.”
Y/N stood abruptly, water flicking at Sophia as she grappled at her shoes. “Y’know what? I’m glad to see fame hasn’t changed that nasty attitude of yours. I was trying to be nice, put it all behind me because I missed you and I wanted to at least be friends again, but clearly I was wrong to think you would’ve matured at least the tiniest bit.” She shook her head, scoffing. “You don’t get to sit there and insult someone you don’t even know.” Her voice shook with anger. “Matt’s nothing like the guys I used to date, and he’s certainly nothing like you. He was the one there for me when you weren’t.”
Sophia blinked, her cool demeanor slipping. “When I wasn’t?”
“Yes, when you weren’t.” Y/N’s voice cracked as she stared down at Sophia, the memories bubbling to the surface. “When you fucking just—tossed me aside when you had a chance at your career, your dreams. And then you didn’t even have the decency to give me a reason why you were being such a jerk about it. I tried calling so many times after you left, I stay up late at night just thinking about you, crying myself to sleep. So no, you don’t get to waltz back into my life, insult Matt, and act like you know me. You don’t know me anymore.”
Sophia’s jaw tightened, her eyes flickering with guilt and something deeper. Her own feet pulled out the pool as she propped herself up. “Y/N, I—”
“No.” Y/N’s stammered, still shivering from the cold. “I’ve given so much of my time and myself to you and your stupid fucking games. This—” she gestured to Sophia, her tone full of frustration— “this is exactly why I stopped trying to call you. Why I decided I needed to move on.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick and unbearable.
Watching the way Y/N shook, Sophia wasn’t sure whether she was shivering from the cold or from the sheer force of finally letting her emotions loose. The younger woman had never been one to argue, never been one to confront. She was always Sophia’s obedient little plaything, just the way she liked it. But seeing her like this, standing her ground, staring the monster terrorizing her life—her every breath and thought—straight in the eye was so… comforting.
She had grown, something Sophia should have done.
Shrugging her jacket off, the Filipina draped it over Y/N’s shoulders, despite the younger’s groans of protest.
“Is that what you call this?” she asked, stepping closer. Her voice was low, almost trembling. “Being with someone so... safe, so easy? Someone your parents want as an in-law?”
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as Sophia came closer, the familiar scent of her perfume making her heart ache.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Sophia was inches away now, her gaze searching Y/N’s face. “Don’t I?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Before Y/N could respond, Sophia’s hand brushed against her cheek, tentative but electrifying. “You’re lying to yourself,” she said softly. “And maybe I deserve all of this—the anger, the blame. But don’t pretend he makes you feel the way I do.”
“Don’t.” Y/N whimpered, her tone less convincing than the way her body language was giving her away.
Instinctively, she needed to draw Sophia close, her body leaning towards the magnetic pull from the Filipina’s hands.
“He’s a fucking cuck and you know it.”
“I love him.” Y/N muttered.
“And I love you,” Sophia whispered back, leaning in to gently press her lips against Y/N’s, the kiss igniting every suppressed feeling she’d buried. It was reckless, infuriating, and utterly terrifying impossible to resist.
Y/N moaned against her glossed lips. Her own hands fighting Sophia’s off before they reached any further up her skirt. “Sophia, somebody will see.”
“Meet me upstairs then.” Sophia stole a quick kiss again, “Where nobody can see.”
The Filipina securely fastened her coat over the shorter’s shoulders, her hot breath thawing Y/N’s cool cheeks. She leant down slow, torturously pecking the corner of her lips, before glancing up at the woman’s eyes, then down again.
“Don’t make me wait.”
When Y/N stepped back into the house a couple minutes after Sophia did, she was immediately approached by Matt, who had a beer bottle clutched in his hand.
“Hey, there you are. I’ve had to listen to your uncle talk about drag racing the past twenty minutes.” He snorted, “Woah, your cheeks are all pink… is that Sophia’s jacket?”
Y/N felt bad, lying to him.
Deep down, she knew she still had very intense feelings for Sophia. The same feeling she felt when Sophia left her, when Sophia told her to leave her house like she was some stranger, when Sophia was all smiles and super happy in every photo taken of her after she had successfully debuted as Katseye’s leader. Somehow, despite Matt being the safe and better option, she would rather be used, be drained dry of whatever she had to give and discarded than be with him if it meant she got to feel what it was like to be Sophia’s girl again.
“Yeah, yeah, I, uh—I’m not feeling very well.”
“Oh. Do you wanna go home? I’ll get the car.”
“No! No, it’s okay. I just need to use the bathroom.”
“Oh, yeah, of course. Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”
Y/N smiled gratefully, feeling the man’s hand rub her arm soothingly. She gently brushed him off, giving him one last look before heading towards the stairs.
There was no turning back now.
Quietly, she crept upstairs, walking past the hung portraits of Sophia and her family, some of which Y/N appeared in.
When she finally got to the door with a customized plaque with sticker letters spelling out “Sophia”, she knocked softly. Nearly immediately, the door flung open and she was yanked in. The door slammed shut behind her, and she was thrusted against the surface. The sound reverberated in the small space. It was dimly lit by a single lamp in the corner, casting shadows on the walls lined with posters and old photos of the two of them.
Y/N barely had time to take it all in before Sophia’s lips were on hers again, desperate and full of unspoken apologies. Her body pushed Y/N’s against the door, the younger’s hands threading into her hair as if she were afraid she might disappear again.
“You drive me insane,” Sophia murmured against her lips, her voice low and rough. Her hands slid down Y/N’s sides, gripping her hips like she was anchoring herself. “I’ve missed this.”
“Sophia,” Y/N interrupted, her breath hitching as Sophia’s lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of heat. “This doesn’t change anything.”
Sophia pulled back just enough to meet Y/N’s gaze, her dark eyes filled with something raw and unguarded.
“Okay,” she whispered, her eyes dark. “Let’s see if you’re saying the same thing after I fuck you senseless.”
Y/N’s felt heat pool straight down to between her legs. She couldn’t stop herself from pulling Sophia closer, her fingers tangling in the loose fabric of her shirt. “You’re such a fucking prick,” she whispered, the words a mixture of accusation and longing. “Still just as cocky.”
“You love it,” Sophia said again, her lips trailing wet kisses down her neck. “Y’know you love me.”
Something in her tone shattered Y/N’s remaining defenses. She pulled Sophia into another kiss, this one fiercer, fueled by a newfound hunger she had to engulf her senses in Sophia. They stumbled toward the bed, their limbs entangled. Sophia’s hands were everywhere, sliding under Y/N’s shirt and hiking her skirt up higher until the band of her black lace showed. Y/N gasped as Sophia’s lips found the sensitive spot below her ear, her knees buckling as they fell onto the mattress together.
Clothes were discarded in a frenzy, the space between them disappearing as if it had never existed. Sophia’s touch was both familiar and foreign, reigniting sensations Y/N had tried to forget. Every kiss, every caress, felt like a plea for forgiveness—a desperate attempt to make up for all the time they’d lost.
Y/N arched into Sophia’s touch, her breaths coming in short, shaky gasps as Sophia’s lips moved lower, exploring every inch of skin like she was memorizing it. The heat between them was almost unbearable, the air thick with the scent of desire and the faint perfume Sophia always wore.
“Sophia,” Y/N moaned, her fingers gripping the sheets as Sophia’s mouth worked its way down her body.
Sophia’s lips hovered just above Y/N’s skin. She looked up, her gaze locking with Y/N’s. “Eyes on me, baby,” she whispered, her voice sending vibrations straight through Y/N. “I wanna see that pretty face when you cum”
Y/N eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back as she breathily gasped at Sophia’s tongue hitting just the right spot. “I hate you for leaving,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “Fuck, I hate you so much.”
The confession broke something in Sophia, and she surged forward, eating Y/N out with a desperation that felt like it could consume them both. Her hands locked into Y/N’s thighs with her legs thrown over her shoulders. When the younger’s breath grew erratic, she knew she was close. And with a pitched gasp, Sophia’s tongue lapped up whatever had gushed from Y/N.
For a couple minutes, they just laid side by side on Sophia’s bed, catching their breaths before Y/N propped herself up, picking up her discarded clothing off the floor.
She slipped them on, back facing a confused Sophia who watched her movements with a tilted head.
“Heading back downstairs,” Y/N stated flatly, “Matt’s probably waiting for me to head home.”
Sophia scoffed, “Are you fucking serious? I just had you cumming on my tongue and you’re going back down to him?”
“Yes, Sophia.” Y/N’s eyes shut, sighing. “Maybe now you’ll know what it feels like to watch someone leave without a goodbye.” She flung the door open to the bustling liveliness of festivities downstairs, disappearing down the hall.
Sophia lied in her bed, a hand through her hair. She scoffed.
If it’s a game Y/N wants to play, it’s a game she’ll play.
#katseye x reader#katseye#sophia laforteza x reader#sophia laforteza#daniela avanzini#daniela avanzini x reader#lara raj#lara raj x reader#manon bannerman#manon bannerman x reader#megan skiendiel#megan skiendiel x reader#yoonchae
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ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ sailor song, one. ་༘🌊࿐
masterlist 。𖦹°‧ welcome page 。𖦹°‧ series masterlist
── ‧₊ ᵎᵎ pairing: jj maybank x reader
── ‧₊ ᵎᵎ sypnosis: after your best friend sarah and his new pogue boyfriend get lost at sea, you find comfort in the only person who understands you. and weirdly, that person is a pogue, the jj maybank.
── ‧₊ ᵎᵎ warnings: language and mentions of alcohol
── ‧₊ ᵎᵎ author's note: yeah, this is my way of coping. i miss the man. anyways lmk if u like it or if u have any ideas for the next chapters!
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“Oh, shit, my bad,” The blond boy whispers after colliding with you, all your books dropping to the ground. You look up and see him, the tall blond pogue rarely present at school. You nod and walk past him, not paying much attention. It wouldn’t be a good thing to be seen with him and his friends, especially after Sarah and the Routledge guy’s death.
Everybody’s going through it. The Camerons have been grieving in their… own ways. Rafe, the eldest child of the Camerons has not been seen in days. Someone said they’d seen him smoking weed in his dealer’s backyard. Guess his sister’s death made him hit rock bottom.
And as for her new pogue boyfriend, John B, no one cares. No one knew him other than his few friends, one of them being the old kook Kiara Carrera. Well, they’re like a weird cult always up to some shit. They’ve chosen their place.
The missing posters have been up for a while. No one really believes it, they couldn’t have survived a storm like that. You’ve been trying to handle it. In your room for days, thinking about the empty spaces your best friend Sarah would fill. Thinking about how she’d gotten distant the past few days. Not telling you where she was going, not telling you about the new guy. You blamed yourself for it. Maybe if you’d tried to talk to her more a few days before she died, she wouldn’t have gone with him.
When the thoughts get too loud during English class, you excuse yourself and leave. You walk through the hallways and outside the school, sitting on a nearby bench. No one said a word to you. No one said you were allowed to grief too. Like you weren’t her best friend. Were you?
You take a deep breath and look around, making sure no one saw you leave school grounds. That’s when you see him again. The blond boy.
He walks out of school as well, looking around and spotting you. He scoffs, and as much as he tries to find a way to avoid you, you’re sitting on the only bench that’s out here. He slowly walks over. “Can I sit-?” He says and you nod. “Yeah. Go ahead.” You say and look away, pulling your legs into your stomach, hugging your calves.
He sits down as far away on the bench from you as possible, taking a deep breath. A few minutes of silence go by. “I heard you were her friend.” He says, breaking the silence.
“What?” You whisper, surprised he would actually talk to you. “I said I heard you were Sarah’s best friend.” He repeats, looking at you this time. He looks… decent.
“Yeah. I was.” you say, looking away from him. “That was before your friends showed up, though.” You say and roll your eyes. He nods, his lips pressing together.
“We didn’t do shit. She wanted to join us, so she did.” He says defensively. “Well, she got dragged into all the criminal stuff that you do. She didn’t know what type of people you were.” I say, sitting straight. I have the time today.
“John B did not kill Peterkin.” He says frowning. “Sure, he didn’t.” You say and he frowns again. “I’m being serious. He did not.”
“You think I’m just gonna believe you because you said so? What even was your name again?” I say and roll my eyes. Yes, exactly the way I imagined a pogue to be. “No, but I’m saying that you’re judging without getting to know us.” He pauses for a second, almost like he’s pondering if he should say or not. “I’m JJ. JJ Maybank.”
Oh, JJ Maybank. With the dad. He works for your father. Or maybe worked. Poor guy was definitely an addict.
“I know your dad.” You blurt out, and the way his face falls tells you you hit a sore spot. You look away. “He… he worked for my dad.” You elaborate, looking down at your shoes.
A few moments pass by and when you turn to look at him again, he’s off the bench, walking away. You frown, watching him walk away. Weird. Why’d he just walk away like that?
You sigh and look ahead into the trees in front you. The back of the school where the students have done everything. A few minutes later, a voice startles you again. “Hey, sorry, I was…”
You jump, letting out a low gasp as you sit up straighter. “What the fuck, Maybank? I thought you left and then you…” You say before he stretches his hand out, a necklace in his palm. Your eyes widen as you notice what it is. The S necklace. With Sarah’s initial on it.
“We found this at the chateau. The chateau is… um, our place, kind of. She’d left it there.” He says as you shakily take it from him.
“We didn’t force her into anything…” “Shut up, Maybank.” You say as you put the necklace around your neck. “Just… I don’t wanna hear it.”
He nods, taking a deep breath as he takes a step back, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m just being nice, Kook.” Oh, now he’s getting sassy. You roll your eyes, unwrapping your arms from around your legs and letting your feet touch the ground as you stand up. “Yeah, well, you could’ve been nice by saving her before she was dead.” I roll my eyes as I grab my backpack, throwing it over my shoulder. You’re mad at everyone and everything. You’re mad at Sarah for leaving you here, and you’re mad at being neglected. She was your best friend. And the moment she left, suddenly she was everyone else’s.
“Wait.” JJ’s voice cuts through your thoughts and your feel your heart ache. The few soft streams of light have found their way from in between trees and leaves onto his blond hair and blue eyes and you take a deep breath, mentally shaking yourself. Stop.
“We both lost our best friends. If there’s anyone who knows what you’re going through, it’s me. Yeah, I don’t like you and you don’t like me. But… be decent.” He nods, as if he wants you to agree. Your hands tighten on the straps on your backpack and you nod after a second. “I… Yeah. Sure. I… I’m Y/N.”
“Yeah, okay.” He nods, running a hand through his hair. “I know who you are.”
You tear your gaze away from him and take deep breaths until you get inside. The moment you get inside the school bathroom, tears are rolling down your face and you let out quiet sobs, turning to the bathroom and kicking a bathroom door open, walking in and locking door. Her necklace around your neck feels like it’s choking you, and you press your palms against your temples, tears running down your cheeks and neck.
How long is it gonna feel like this?
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#outer banks#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x you#jj maybank#outer banks fic#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank headcannons#obx fanfiction#jj obx#jj outer banks
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I started adding this to the tags, but apparently tumblr doesn't want people writing novels in the tags because they're cowards
as it stands in the show, i don't ship them, because i think edrissa deserves better than mal is currently capable of giving her, or anyone. (I do want them to be best friends and go to medical museums on the weekends and eat lunch together in the morgue so they can talk about corpses without the others complaining, though)
however.
it's ten years later. martin is dead. mal has taken a break from the police to work in academia, teaching students and writing papers. he's calmer. he's stable. the nightmares aren't gone, but they're better than they've ever been, and he eats multiple meals without needing to be reminded almost every day.
edrissa is still working in the morgue. she had a serious relationship for a few years, but in the end they grew apart and called in quits, and she's been single for a couple of years.
they haven't seen one another in almost a decade, but gil is finally retiring for good, and they bump into one another at the party. they mean to just catch up, but once they get talking they find they have so much to say. it's not like old times - it's better. edrissa is more confident. mal is calmer, and has a life that isn't just work and his father's legacy. and there's this spark not that wasn't there before, and next thing they know the party is ending and they haven't talked to anyone else all evening
they exchange numbers, but edrissa doesn't know if she should call. maybe she's too old for him? her hair is more silver than black now, and she likes how it looks, but mal has barely aged. if anything, he looks younger without the weight of his father to carry. the age difference between them is the same as its always been, but she convinces herself it feels larger
but she also knows that if she doesn't try, she'll always regret it. even though mal's interest in her back then was as a friend rather than a romantic possibility, she's always thought of him as her 'one that got away'.
and she also knows malcolm bright is never going to be the one to make the first move
however has hasn't counted on mal being a lot more emotionally mature than he wasn't when she first met him, and she's especially not counting on the fact that Dani and Gil saw them together and immediately decided to play matchmaker, or that Gil would get Jessica in on it
so before she's managed to psych herself up to make the first move, mal calls. tells her he knows they're old friends, but he'd always have regretted it if he didn't try, and would she like to get dinner?
she's so shocked she almost forgets to say yes, just sits there silently until mal starts to apologise, but they get there, and she accepts.
the experiment proves replicable. the spark is still there on the first date, the second, the third. they don't run out of things to talk about. the sex, when they eventually get to it, is great
it's not always easy. mal's healthier than he's ever been, but there are some wounds that are never going to entirely heal, some scars that won't fade. And edrissa's got scars of her own, along with a stubborn streak a mile wide
but they work at it. they compromise. they figure out which issues can be overcome with time and patience and which are best left alone. they don't move in together - edrissa has spent a lifetime currating a very specific space, and mal needs somewhere he can retreat to on his bad days. they've both got tempers and deep insecurities and a tendency to get absorbed in their work and vanish for days at a time, but they figure out ways to live with all of them.
their lives grow together, like intertwining vines. they grow together.
and they're happy.
Don’t die. - I won’t. I promise.
Malcolm and Edrisa, for @actuallylukedanes ♡
#op i apologise for writing notfic on your post#i just have a lot of feelings about these two apparently
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Low Battery
Paring: Joe Burrow x reader
warnings: depressing thoughts, angst, family dynamics. fluff
words: 1,116
a/n: I typed this out in one straight shot with no previous details figured out so I hope its okay. This is the complete opposite of all of the great and cute Christmas Joe fics everyone has been writing. Hope you all had a great Christmas if you celebrate! But without further ado! Its Christmas Eve, and Joe sees your social battery has worn out for the day.
Your family was mingling with each other, laughing and talking around the kitchen table and in the living room. Your little cousins and niece and nephew were in the playroom, keeping each other entertained with toys. You were sitting alone at the kitchen island, slowly eating the food on your plate. There wasn't any other room for you to sit but you didn't mind. Your posture was slumped slightly, your thoughts turned inward rather than focusing on the party going on around you. Joe, moving away from talking with your dad, turned the corner to see you and he immediately knew what was wrong. Your social battery had run out, and he knew you were struggling with spending time with your family.
You felt a hand land on the small of your back gently rubbing a spot on your sweater. The touch made you smile softly, grounding you and bringing you back to reality. You knew it was Joe without having to look. "Hey." He said softly, glancing at your half eaten plate. The amount of food that had been made from scratch over the past few days in preparation for the party, could have fed an army. Christmas Eve had always been a big deal in your family. But you hadn't eaten a lot. "I'm ready if you are." He hadn't asked how you were because you knew you'd put on a brave face and say you were fine when you weren't. At least while there were others around.
You nodded and picked up your plate to scrap off the food into the trash while Joe went to grab your coats and hats. "Time for us to head home, I've got to start prepping for Broncos game on Saturday." Joe announced towards your family as he held your coat so it was easier for you to put on, and you smiled at him once it was on.
"Thank you for coming early to help with the set up." Your mom chimed in from her spot at the table. There would be no hugs, your family didn't hug or say "love you" unless you were flying and there was a possibly of you crashing and dying.
"No problem at all." Joe smiled and went around to say good bye to everyone while you followed, putting on smiles and hugging your niece and nephew tightly before you made your way through the door and to the car, Joe holding the passenger side door open for you. "Thank you." You grabbed his arm gently and got onto your tip toes to kiss him on the cheek before getting into the car and putting your seatbelt on. You felt like the complete opposite of the confident women you had grown into since being away from home. Christmas hadn't always felt like this, it had been magical when you had been a child.
The car ride home was quiet, Joe didn't force conversation. He did take your hand in his, entwining his fingers with yours as he drove with one hand. Glances he stole in your direction once in a while to see how you were doing. The further away you got from the house, the better you felt.
Being shy, quiet and being a girl in an old school traditional family where boys were valued more, you had always felt somewhat out of place. Like whatever you did, wasn't enough. Your family had never done anything to hurt you, but words were said on occasion that cut you. And any time you tried to do something by yourself without Joe around, they were overbearing. Years of it had taken its toll mentally, even if they meant well. Being the girlfriend of an NFL quarterback, had caused you to adapt to being alone a lot but that hadn't been hard for you since you had lived life on your own most of your life.
But there was guilt that you didn't actually have it that bad compared to some families. You loved your parents and family still, you had good moments with them, but it was draining to be around them. Joe had helped you grow as a person in more ways than one, and during the season you were his rock as much as he was yours on the off season.
Once Joe parked in his garage, you unlocked the front door and took off your shoes, immediately wanting to change out of your clothes and slip into something more comfortable. Joe's excuse to prep for the Broncos wasn't a complete lie, he had had started to as soon as the Browns game had finished. But there were more things he wanted to look at and you didn't mind, it was part of his job and you would support him.
Once you were changed, you went to find Joe who you figured would be in his office. But you almost walked right into each other in the doorway of the bedroom. "What are you doing?" You asked as you noticed he had his Ipad in his hands with a notebook and pencil. "I'm going to study some film while you lie down." You knew by his tone, he wasn't taking no for an answer.
Joe couldn't read your mind all of the time, which is where communication came in. But he was pretty good at noticing what you needed during certain times, and this was one of those moments. It made your heart melt.
"Alright." You moved away from the door to climb into your side of the bed and get comfortable. Joe turned the TV on so he could cast from his Ipad to the tv so it was easier to look at. You loved when he let you look at plays from the other team, his fingers dancing on the screen to manipulate it to freeze and go backwards and forwards as he studied.
Joe noticed you watching and he smiled, knowing you felt better. "You're okay. You're doing good, I'm proud of you always." He reassured you as his fingers ran into your hair for a moment as he leaned down and kissed your forehead. You shifted to snuggle close to him as much as you could without getting in the way of his things on the bed. His words made you tear up for a few moments but no tears actually fell. You put your arm across his lap and smiled up at him. "I love you." Your voice was soft and full of love. "I love you too." He smiled before he focused on his Ipad once more. It wasn't long before you fell asleep, content with the life you had built for yourself.
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+ CHAPTER FOUR // RUN IT BACK
series mlist
Tags — mentions of catcalling-ish/a creepy comment, mentions of violence, the texts and the written part don’t connect it’s sort of just two separate parts, I’m only now realizing how odd the divs look I’m apologizing but not changing it, your phone isn’t tweaking the last two images are supposed to be transparent Words — 1.3k
The day was gloomy, the sound of downpour fading in and out with every opening of the front door. Had you been at home, your only company would be a good book and possibly a roll of raw cookie dough, maybe Nobara curled up at your side and updating you on the details of a couple in her design class. But you weren't at home, you were stuck here, surrounded by blurred faces and the smell of damp socks. You would be sure to use this against Miwa until the end of time, you told yourself. After a pathetically small amount of begging and the explanation that you think involved her boyfriend, you agreed. You knew she wasn't one to ditch out just because, so you barely bothered hearing her out before doing the favour. You were beginning to regret that.
You'd been spaced out for so long that you didnt even notice the oddly familiar head of hair, sat lowly and just almost resting on the back of the booth's seat. He stood out against the worn, ruby leather, a collection of pastels sitting on something dull and worn. Something bright and new presented to you, surrounded by familiarity. The deep lilac of his irises were trained on you, not exactly burning into you, but rather drinking you in. He wasn't harsh or searing or intimidating, he didn't make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and he didn't make you feel hot all over. He was soft, a whisper within the pitter patter of the rain, he was the warmth of coffee slipping down your throat on a cold day (even if sometimes, it ended up on the floor).
You met his eye, and the corners of his lips tugged up into a smile. It spoke louder than words, a reminder of the fleeting experiences you’d shared without ever truly having a conversation.
“Toge,” you greeted softly as you walked over, voice sugary sweet and laced with something he couldn’t put his finger on.
He replied with a smile, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled as he did. “Y/n.”
“No company this time?”
You swear that his cheeks heated up just the slightest bit, and he glanced down for a second before turning back. “No, they bring bad luck… as you could see.”
Your brows quirked upwards playfully, hands falling down to your hips. The notepad you were holding pressed gently into your side—a reminder of what you were actually supposed to be doing. “You sure they’re the bad luck?”
“Yes,” he said, all too quickly and all too defensive. It was hard to suppress a smile by now, and you could very easily tell that he was facing the same problem. He was inside his own head locking himself for looking like a dork, but the bigger part of him knew that he truly was. I mean, last time you’d seen him he was double fisting instant ramen and short circuiting trying to decide whether to say hi or avoid you altogether, the internal conflict sending him into overdrive and leaving him standing there like he’d stared into the eyes of Medusa.
But he was here now, and he was functioning just fine aside from his heart speeding up.
He gave you his order and made sure not to stutter. He watched you longingly as you disappeared into the big grey double doors that led to the back, and he beat himself up for not saying more. He had another chance though, right? And he’d be sure to take it. So when you trotted back out, hips swaying ever so slightly and the pink of your lipgloss reflecting the glow of the piercing lights above, he wasn’t going to cower away. Toge was used to being friendly, but holding a conversation… yikes.
“…are you busy right now?”
You glanced down from where you stood over him, catching the awkwardness in the way he shifted. You gave a soft shake of the head, motioning to the nearly empty section around you.
“Great. So… maybe you could sit…?” he asked. He tried to feign nonchalance, but the nervous rasp in his voice was hard to miss. Something warm curled in your chest, and you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him. Not when he was staring up at you, biting his cheek and silently screaming ‘I’m not usually this awkward, I swear!’
Sliding into the seat across from him, the cool leather pressed into you through your pants. You didn’t even realize when you started chatting away—it just came so naturally that it the beginning and the end were blurred. It faded in and out calmly, like the tide on a warm, empty day at the beach. Talking was easy with Toge. He followed everything you said with a nod and an approving hum, made sure you knew he was paying attention. He was undeniably present, but it wasn’t loud or suffocating. He was just there, gentle and warm and fresh. If someone asked you to recount the conversation, all you could remember was the way his light hair fell in tufts over his face as he nodded at something you said. If they asked him, he’d probably be able to recite it like it was a subject he’d studied for years.
“So…” he said, voice soft as he tried to figure out a way to bring this up. If it hadn’t been you, he didn’t want to figure that out once it was too late and embarrass himself. He also feared that if it were you, he’d look creepy—or worse, make you uncomfortable. Based on the way you’d scrambled into the darkness of the sketchy corner alley, it didn’t take a scientist to figure out you weren’t up to any good. Did he have the right to mention it? Probably not. But sometimes the curiosity in his veins ran deeper than the need to keep you comfortable, so he didn’t stop himself. “You into rock?”
You hoped the way your eyes widened ever so slightly and your spit catching in your throat wasn’t noticeable, but it was. It shouldn’t have been such a secret, but it was just so… not you. If he liked you, he figured he liked you how he saw you now. Your hobbies were quite the opposite, and the possible backlash was enough to make the words die on your tongue.
“Y/n!” shouted a voice from the kitchen, making your body jolt up with the relief of an excuse to swerve the topic. You slithered out of the seat with a small smile and a heated face, basically running to the back. “That should be your order. I should uh… I should get back to work. I’ll see you!”
When you were out of view, he let out a huff. His shoulders slumped, and he rested his head on the rough table for a second. You’d gotten away for a second time. Maybe this was the last.
But then he walked out of the diner and looked at his receipt, only to see a ten digit number scribbled into the back of it. Underneath was your name with a little smiley face. He grinned, let out a breath of victorious (maybe surprised) laughter, and put it into his pocket.
It wasn’t the last chance he had. He didn’t know it yet, but the universe seemed to align so that he’d have many, many more.
Can you feel it in the air? That warmth? Yeah it’s romance
getting the story movingggg
they all thought Toge was a loser for going back
little did they know he got that bag
I apologize if these seem rushed because they somewhat are, I’m just not as motivated to write this series as I am other things :)
Also if you saw a post about this being posted at 6:40 no u didn’t.
yep we’re back chat. I’ve been flopping lately someone kill me for Emma got like 100 notes gang I’m gonna end it ALL. tbh I feel like that was deserved it wasn’t my best but it made people cry so a win is a win (pls stop attacking me I had three people in my messages ATTACKING me at once) oh… yall aren’t gonna like what I’m cooking up.
Taglist — 47/50 (as of posting. Check masterlist)
@anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @adoresia @auroratumbles @sh0ot1ngst4r @soobin1437 @mystic-megumi @cinnamxnangel @lizbix @s3ns4ti0n4l @anonnieghost @s4toruz @gumims @bubybubsters @k4ss11333 @rreveurdoll @kaged-kitty @rwura @aldebrana @hqnge @good-mourning0 @daisies-and-domming @vi0let-writes @dazaisfavgf @hearts4aloise @coolgirl458 @keyaea @jealovsie @sirenla @academiq @mammoanlmao @moonchhu @ichcocat @blubearxy @hayl09 @q2uq2u @potteraep @fiannee @lailakys @jxisnwaol @treeguzzler @nanaanatiion @zayuriluvs @kr1nqu @cloudxox @azinniyaa @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee
— I removed the people who haven’t changed their tag settings after 3 chapters, so there’s been some space cleared up! You’ll be removed if your tags don’t work for three chapters straight, so please make sure they’re correct :) if you’ve fixed them don’t be afraid to comment and ask me to add you back
#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smau#toge inumaki smau#inumaki toge smau#inumaki toge x reader#toge inumaki x reader#toge jjk#toge x reader#toge inumaki#inumaki toge#inumaki smau#inumaki x reader
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Rambles about portraits and Octavia
So I spent a lot of time staring at this shot while I was working on art
Especially the portraits (even though I didn't draw them) and there was one in particular that really caught my eye:
This is a bit long so I'll stick my thoughts under the cut:
This portrait fascinated me because I couldn't recall seeing one like it anywhere else. We rarely (maybe never? I'm not sure) get portraits of Stolas and Stella together without Octavia and this one stuck out to me because of the posing - Stella is full-on leaning into Stolas's space, and it's often tough for me to tell when Stella is genuinely smiling with her beak, but there's unmistakable joy on her face. At first I almost wondered if this was meant to be an indication of Stolas trying harder to fit into a mold early in their marriage, be more like the type of Prince and husband Stella expected (and that might still be the case to a degree). But then I remembered we're actually in Octavia's mind/songscape, so these portraits more likely reflect how she sees her family. These could represent what she wants her family to be, but... I kinda wonder if instead they show what Octavia thought her family already was. We know from The Circus that Stella's mistreatment of Stolas was happening before he met Blitz. But I don't think Octavia knew. In Loo-Loo Land, Stella and Stolas are making no efforts to hide their dysfunctional marriage from her, but some of her statements later in the episode when she's having her heart-to-heart with Stolas ("Home doesn't even feel like home anymore, you ruined it." "When I was a kid and my parents didn't hate each other...") to me indicate that this dysfunction is somewhat new to her, a regular occurrence by that episode (as she doesn't bat an eye at the thrown plant), but not a long-term thing that she's accustomed to, and she immediately connects it with her father flirting with Blitz. I wonder if Stolas was actually doing a great job at hiding the cracks in his marriage - until Blitz came into the picture and suddenly he lost his grip on the facade. It would certainly help explain why Octavia repeatedly pins blame on Blitz, specifically, for their issues and why she's not as quick to place blame on her mother - from her perspective everything might've been fine until her father cheated, and her mothers aggression comes across as legitimate upset instead of long-term abuse. No idea how true any of this is, just some possibilities I was mulling over! Either way she and Stolas desperately need an honest conversation 😭
#ok I think that's it for Octavia rambling#I'm not used to sharing my thoughts so sorry if this is shit 😂#octavia helluva boss#helluva boss#stolas goetia
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Cold Heart *.✧ (part 2)
cregan stark x targ!reader
WARNING: angst, not a happy ending (?)
(part 1)
The days following your outburst in the Great Hall passed in a haze. You avoided Cregan as much as possible, and he seemed content to let the silence stretch between you. The icy walls of Winterfell felt more like a prison than ever before.
Rickon, sensing the tension but not understanding its source, clung to you with a desperation that only deepened your heartbreak. He asked you once, in his small, hesitant voice, if you were angry with his father.
“No, sweetling,” you whispered, stroking his dark hair. “I’m just… tired.”
It wasn’t a lie. Exhaustion weighed heavily on you—not from the duties of being Lady of Winterfell, but from the constant ache of loving a man who would never love you back.
One evening, unable to bear the silence any longer, you sat at your writing desk and penned a letter to your mother.
Mother,
I have done all that was asked of me. I have been patient. I have been kind. But I cannot thaw the North, and I cannot make a man love me who does not wish to. My heart feels as if it has been crushed beneath the weight of a thousand winters. I wonder if this alliance was worth the cost.
You stared at the words for a long time, your quill hovering above the parchment.
Do you even know what you have done to me?
Your hand trembled as you added the final line. You folded the letter carefully, but you could not bring yourself to summon the raven. What good would it do? Rhaenyra would only remind you of your duty, of the importance of the alliance, of the greater good.
The letter remained tucked away in the desk, a secret burden you carried alone.
The tension between you and Cregan finally came to a head late one night. The storm outside was fierce, the winds howling like wolves at the gates. You had been restless, pacing your chambers, when the door opened, and Cregan stepped inside.
He looked as tired as you felt, his shoulders heavy with some unseen weight. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, regarding you with an expression you couldn’t quite read.
“What do you want, Cregan?” you asked, your voice sharper than intended.
“I came to speak,” he said, his tone measured.
“You’ve had months to speak,” you replied, turning away from him. “And yet you’ve said nothing.”
“I didn’t know what to say.”
You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You never know what to say. You never know how to feel. You don’t even know how to look at me without seeing her shadow.”
His jaw tightened, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of anger in his eyes.
“Do not speak of things you don’t understand,” he said, his voice low and warning.
“Don’t I?” you shot back, turning to face him fully. “I understand better than you think. I understand what it means to love someone so deeply it consumes you. But you—” Your voice broke, and you forced yourself to continue. “You’ve never given me the chance to show you what we could be. You won’t even try.”
Cregan took a step forward, his expression stormy. “And what would you have me do? Forget her? Pretend she never existed?”
“I would have you see me!” you cried, tears streaming down your face. “I am not her, Cregan, and I never will be. But I am here. I have been here, trying, every single day, and you—”
Your voice faltered as he closed the distance between you. For a moment, you thought he might reach for you, might finally break through the walls he had built.
But he didn’t.
“I can’t,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t give you what you want.”
The finality in his words shattered something inside you. You stepped back, your breath hitching as you tried to compose yourself.
“Then why did you marry me?” you asked, your voice trembling.
“Because I had to,” he admitted, his eyes meeting yours with a raw honesty that hurt more than any lie could have. “Because the North needed it. Because Rickon needed it. But I never wanted this, and I never wanted to hurt you.”
You stared at him, your heart breaking all over again. “But you have,” you said quietly. “You’ve hurt me more than you’ll ever know.”
Without another word, he turned and left, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed in the silence of your chambers.
The days that followed were colder than ever, though the snow had stopped falling. You threw yourself into your duties, avoiding Cregan whenever possible. Rickon became your solace, his innocent laughter the only thing that kept you from succumbing to the despair that threatened to consume you.
But even he could not erase the emptiness in your heart.
Late one night, unable to sleep, you found yourself standing before the godswood. The heart tree loomed above you, its ancient branches creaking in the wind. You knelt before it, tears streaming down your face as you whispered a prayer to gods you didn’t fully believe in.
“Give me the strength to bear this,” you pleaded. “Or give me the freedom to leave.”
The gods, as always, were silent.
#reader#x reader#y/n#f!reader#hotd cregan#hotd x female reader#hotd x reader#hotd fanfic#hotd#x female reader#targaryen reader#cregan stark x targaryen reader#cregan x reader#cregan stark x reader#cregan x you#cregan stark#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon
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"I saw Mummy kissing Santa Claus, only Mummy is Lily and Santa is really Sirius and ... why are you laughing, James?"
(you're getting a quick Jilypad Christmas story too because I just needed to get that out of my system. Happy Holidays!)
~
Peter really didn't mean to get into this situation.
He just wanted a refill on his mulled wine, a totally normal thing to do at a Christmas party. So he went to the kitchen, again a very normal thing to do, only he wasn't prepared for what he would be walking into.
Lily and Sirius.
Kissing.
In the Potter's kitchen.
Sirius leans against the kitchen counters, his hands on Lily's hips, while Lily leans against him, her arms around his neck, their lips locked like no one could possibly catch them in the act.
Only Peter did catch them and they didn't even notice because they are so busy making out. In James' and Lily's kitchen. In the house they just moved into.
So Peter creeps back out of the kitchen, slow and silent, and then turns to go and do his duty.
He knows it's Christmas and all and he'll probably ruin it but James needs to know about this. What kind of friend would Peter be if he wouldn't tell? Telling is exactly what he has to do and that makes him so much better than the so called best friend who's currently snogging James' wife in his own kitchen. Such low morals, really.
Not that Peter is that surprised about it, he has known Sirius for years after all. Not exactly the one with the greatest morals. But it's always been JamesandSirius from the moment they met on the train. They share everything. So Peter is not surprised about Sirius possibly having his eyes on Lily as well, he just is a little bit surprised he would go for it and risk James finding out about it and all the drama that will bring.
Good thing Peter is here for James to step in where his so called best friend has failed him so much. He will be the strong shoulder James will desperately need after this shock. Maybe James will even need a place to stay while he waits for the divorce to go though. Peter's apartment is small but they will be able to make it work. They can just spell the bed to make it a bit bigger – James will surely know how to do that – and Peter will be able to be even closer if James needs him, whatever time of day or night.
Peter rounds the corner to the hallway that leads back to the living room and nearly runs into the very person he needs to see.
“James!” he squeaks and then lowers his voice so the cheaters in the kitchen won't hear him. “James... I .. I need to tell you something.”
“Oh, okay. Just let me get more wine first,” James says and tries to step around Peter to get to the kitchen but Peter jumps into his way. He can't let James go in there unprepared. And without his wand ready. James stops and frowns. “Peter?”
“Do...do you remember that song Remus played for us earlier? That muggle song? About Mummy kissing that Santa Claus person?”
James looks at him with a bit of concern creeping into his eyes but Peter barrels on. He's a Gryffindor after all.
“Well, I've seen it. Just Lily is Mummy and Santa is really Sirius and you really should know that – why are you laughing, James?”
Now Peter is the one looking concerned because James laughs so hard, he has to lean against the wall for support. Maybe Peter didn't break the news gently enough and it did some damage, making him spin into insanity. Maybe Peter's apartment isn't the best place for James to stay after all.
James gulps down some air and wipes at his eyes beneath the glasses. At least he's breathing and not falling over dead in shock. That's something, right?
“Where have you seen them, Peter?” James asks and Peter is a little bit relieved. There was always the possibility that James wouldn't believe him. It's Sirius who's betraying him after all and James has a blind spot when it comes to Sirius that is really a dark hole. The man can do no wrong in James' eyes. Well, see how that blind trust has turned out.
Peter points at the kitchen behind himself and this time he doesn't manage to stop James when he darts around him. There is nothing else for Peter to do than to follow James to the kitchen. He really hopes it won't come to a duel. Maybe he should get Remus as back up?
They step into the kitchen and Peter watches James, wanting to catch the exact moment James sees what's going on behind his back.
James sees it.
And grins.
Peter blinks in confusion.
“Really now?” James says and Sirius and Lily finally pull back from their kiss, but still stay in each other's arms. The audacity. “I have to hear from Peter what you're doing in here while we have guests out there?”
Peter really wishes James wouldn't drop his name. He's not the best duellist and he knows both Sirius and Lily are way better than him.
Sirius only huffs, not going for his wand to defend his questionable honour at all. “It's just Remus and Peter, that's hardly guests.”
Charming as ever.
James laughs, because of course he does. It's like Sirius is doing some kind of magic to him. Magic that ensures that as soon as James looks at him there is no way for James to think anything else but of Sirius as the most perfect human on this planet, even if he just snogged James' wife. It's infuriating because Peter has no idea how it works.
“Still,” James says and crosses the kitchen to stand beside them. “A little unfair that you get to have all the fun without me.”
And then James just buries his hands in Sirius' hair and pulls him into a kiss. While Lily is right there, watching them with a fond smile.
Peter wonders if he's hallucinating. Maybe there was something in the wine.
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