#this rehearsal process has been. a lot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

crguang · 6 months ago

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wasted with longing

You and Kafka have a simple, superficial relationship that benefits you both. You should have known that nothing is ever simple when she’s involved.

friends with benefits, smut, afab!reader, gp!kafka, vaginal penetration, blowjob, dom!kafka, 4.5k words

A/N: fuckboy kafka is real and we should all be running… towards her🤣 this will be a series! i’ll fine tune it when i wake up but this is for my very excited anons and mutuals <3

part two

this is the collective playlist, i’m still adding songs as i go: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4fNHJsbeJLC49Fa8ACVOwW?si=pgaCSUzVTgmXZ8OuQJWLKA&pi=u-9uwba0QiQlWH

You push open the door to your apartment with a tired sigh and step inside. Freeing your feet from the new boots you bought days before feels heavenly, you’re still breaking them in and the process is almost torturous, often leaving you sore by the evening. You put on the slippers you discarded that morning as you shrug off your jacket, placing it back into the tiny closet near the front door. The lights are off but you don’t bother turning them on, instead, you make a beeline for your bedroom and flick that switch on. It’s late, around 11 PM, and you’re itching for a shower before collapsing into bed after spending the afternoon on your feet. You open the window a crack to let the breeze in, seeing as the summer nights tend to leave you sweating. You discard some of your clothing on the way to the bathroom, holding onto them to throw them in the laundry basket next to the sink. Standing in your underwear, you turn on the shower and adjust its settings to room temperature before removing your clothes. You’re grateful for the peaceful moment when you step into the shower, simply letting the water hit your face and soak your body.

Today was particularly challenging; your boss was a jerk your whole shift, more demanding than usual, and you’d promised some friends that you would go out with them after work even though you just wanted to be home by then. Forcing yourself to socialize is mentally taxing and often leaves you with a headache at the end of the night, too. Under the refreshing water, you feel the knots of your muscles loosen slowly as if smoothed out by warm, gentle hands. Your head tilts towards the shower head. For a few minutes, you wash away the weight of the day, focusing on the pitter-patter in your ears deafening you to all but your thoughts. An impulsive one passes by, meant to be fleeting but it solidifies in your head until you can’t help but entertain the idea.

You wonder what Kafka is doing, if she’d come running if you called the way she often does once the sun sets. She’s been busy lately, you think; you haven’t heard from her in around two weeks and you’ve been too preoccupied with work to bother checking on her. You don’t know what she does for a living, only that your palms brush against new cuts across her skin every once in a while. The acknowledgment of their presence goes unsaid like many other things, locked in a messy closet to which you both hold the key yet refuse to organize. Still, she’s skilled in the ways of your body and works you out like no one else can, so you ignore a lot about her to prioritize how relaxed you feel after a couple of hours with her. Some parts of you, your heart and fingertips, twitch to understand her absences and inconsistencies. You try not to dwell on that confusing desire for too long lest you come to a conclusion you don’t like. Kafka’s enigmatic, she’s mysterious and rehearsed as to always keep the upper hand in whatever war she’s implicated in like the world is an open minefield and she can’t afford a single misstep. Every semblance of genuine conversation about her turns into a game she has to win and you’re getting tired of playing along. However… you have to admit that you could use the distraction tonight.

The thought doesn’t leave you as you finish washing yourself and step out of the shower with a clean towel around your frame. You look for your phone once in the bedroom, picking it up from where it was discarded on your dresser, then sit at the edge of your bed. It takes a bit of scrolling through your recent conversations to find Kafka’s contact. You refrain yourself from rolling your eyes at the last texts you’ve exchanged. She can’t be relied on for your impromptu needs and you wish the opposite was true as well, but you’ve learned to make yourself available whenever she seeks you out. It’s pathetic, you tell yourself, even as your thumbs hover over the screen’s keyboard. You recline on the mattress with a sigh and hold your phone above you, wondering if you should do this. It’s late, and though that’s usually when you see each other, Kafka has the habit of not replying until hours later. It’s irritating, especially when you scroll up to her last messages and notice how quickly you always answer them. You toss your phone on the bed and cover your face with your hands. You swallow a scream.

“Embarrassing, embarrassing,” you mutter to yourself, “no dignity at all.”

As you question your life choices and consider blocking Kafka’s number to make yourself feel more in control than you are, your phone buzzes with a notification. You turn on your stomach to pick it up, tapping open the screen.

You stare at the most recent text for almost a full minute before closing the device and sitting up straight. The coincidence of her messaging you while you’re debating whether you should text her first leaves you reeling for a moment. You hesitate, fiddling with the phone in your hands. You want to leave her waiting like she often does to you, but… Excitement creeps up your spine at the thought of seeing her. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Why not take what you need from her and send her on her way? This is what she’s good for, it’s how she regards you as well, so you give in to your impulses and craft the perfect text. Kafka’s reply comes almost instantly.

You can’t deny the flutter in your gut but you sure as hell can ignore it.

You make sure to be ready before Kafka comes knocking at your door. You lather yourself with your favourite lotion before pulling a tank top over your head and putting on pyjama shorts. You clean up around your apartment even if she never lingers long enough to get a good look at it, picking up dirty laundry and clearing the dishes. You don’t see the minutes tick by as you do your best to seem presentable. You check your teeth in the bathroom mirror, decide to brush them because you don’t have any mint, then tap your cheeks a couple of times, tilting your chin this way and that. You’re looking at your nails, wondering if you should clip them since they’re getting a bit long, when the doorbell rings.

You take measured steps towards the front door so as not to look too eager and shake your head at your antics. You turn the handle, revealing Kafka’s nonchalant expression on the other side of the door. She smiles at the sight of you, clad in her usual tight clothes and custom-made coat, and you have to suppress one from betraying your thoughts as you take her in. She does the same to you, gaze appreciatively raking over your figure before she even greets you. She still has makeup on, hiding the fatigue you know rests under her eyes, and she’s holding on to her pair of gloves instead of wearing them. You think she probably wrapped up whatever it is that she does and came to your apartment right afterwards.

You open the door wider and step to the side so she can come in. “You look tired.”

Kafka walks in and closes the door behind her with a foot. Her smile widens a touch, a self-assured edge to it. Her head tilts— you watch the loose strands of hair follow the movement— and her eyes drop to your chest for a deliberate second then lift to meet yours. “You look beautiful as ever.”

You don’t hide the annoyed roll of your eyes. You turn your back on her to lead her further into the apartment. She follows, slipping off her coat from her shoulders and discarding it on a sofa in the living room.

“You got rid of the painting?”

You look at where she stopped in front of the couch. She points to the far wall with her chin as she lays her gloves on top of her coat. You stand, dumbfounded. You used to have an abstract painting hung on that wall but stored it to install a TV instead. You’re mostly surprised she noticed; her lips are usually on yours instants after she’s stepped through the door.

“It’s here somewhere,” you gesture vaguely to the room.

“Mm… This coffee table’s different, too.”

“You broke the glass of the other one the last time you were here.”

Something in the way she glances at you, a cocky glint in her eyes, tells you she remembers.

“Right. What was it you said that night— ‘Don’t you dare stop?’”

You know Kafka revels in the flash of irritation that creases the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t remember that.”

“No?”

She makes her way to you, fingertips trailing on the back of the couch and amusement shining through her contacts, dusty pink swallowing the lilac at their edges, reminding you of carefully plucked calla lilies. Her slender fingers cup your jaw to tilt your chin, the nail of her index sliding across your skin, and you meet her stare with practiced ease. You hate how easily the anticipation of her touch heats the embers in your belly and you can’t stand knowing that she’s aware of her effect on you. Kafka brings you closer until all you care to see is the lustful, rosy shades of her irises. Her gaze lowers to the curves of your mouth.

“Need a reminder?” Her murmur is felt on your lips like the warm, inviting breeze wafting through the open windows.

You hook a finger under the waistband of her shorts and tug her forward. “Guess so.”

Her low chuckle is cut off by the kiss you plant on her lips. Kafka indulges your control over her, lets you back her up against the wall and pull her close with a hand around her neck. Her arm snakes around your waist, your body pressed to hers. She tastes sweet, like a sugary drink or a juicy fruit, and your tongue slips into her mouth to taste her fully. She welcomes it readily and allows it to swirl around hers before you feel her fingers curl around your throat. The pace shifts, hungry and hurried, as she effortlessly takes over the kiss, momentarily taking your breath away. You’re forced to follow her lead and exhale through your nose when she doesn’t release you. The hand on the back of her neck travels down her collarbone, pulling on the leather strap of her outfit so it slaps against her once you let go, and the hum that sounds from her throat softens your bones until you’re putty in her hands. Her shirt crumples in your grip while your fingertips tease the buttons of her shorts. Your world is reduced to the soft caress of her tongue in your mouth and the growing bulge beneath your palm.

Her hold on your neck relaxes slightly and you pull away enough to regulate your breathing. You stroke her over her clothes, drawing a sharp intake of breath from her. A pleased smile makes its way onto your face and your eyes blink open to stare at her swollen, peach lips.

“Someone’s happy to see me.”

Kafka traces the hollow of your throat with a rounded nail, smiling amusedly at your teasing tone. “Mmm.”

“Two weeks and a little kiss gets you worked up?”

“Were you counting?”

“Please. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” You unclasp the buttons of her shorts and pull them down her waist to reveal the band of her pantyhose, toying with it and sighing in faux exasperation. “I suppose I could help.”

“Yeah?”

Kafka stares at you, anticipation in the way her lips unconsciously part, and you retain her lustful gaze as you withdraw from her body to put your hair up using the hair tie on your wrist. You raise a playful eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, and her eyes narrow a touch at your cockiness. She doesn’t say a word, though, simply watches you lower yourself to your knees with that smile that says she’ll wipe that expression off your face soon enough. You start with her thigh-high boot, zipping it down to get it out of the way, then grip the edges of both her pantyhose and shorts to slide them off the rest of the way at once. Her layers annoy you on nights when your need is greater than your patience, but you enjoy teasing her like this; testing the elasticity of her boxers’ waistband, running the pads of your fingers over the thin fabric and along the thick of her bulge, pressing leisure, open-mouthed kisses on the soft flesh of her inner thighs. Kafka is a patient woman, her hand tangles in your hair but doesn’t pull. Her heavy stare makes you feel powerful despite being the one on your knees, she either doesn’t bother to hide her desire or she can’t— regardless, you’re her only way towards sweet release and she has no choice but to grant your petty wishes.

Your lips trace the outline of her length over her underwear. One hand cups her between her legs while the other kneads her plush thigh. You delight in the little hums Kafka doesn’t care to contain as you pepper kisses on her clothed cock, a thumb gently massaging her balls until you feel her twitch under your lips. Still, she doesn’t tell you to hurry along or pressure you in any way. Knowing that her cool demeanor is an act fuels the satisfaction in your gut. You pull at her boxers and free her hard cock, refraining from biting your lip at the sight of its prominent vein. You follow its pattern with your mouth and use a hand to curl around her base, eyes fluttering shut. You’ve done this so often, licked long stripes up to her tip and stroked her sensitive skin with teasing touches, that the feel of her against you is engraved in your gray matter. Your tongue swirls around her leaking tip to collect her pre-cum before taking her into your mouth. Kafka is so big you have to use your fingers to stroke what can’t fit past your lips. The weight of her cock on your tongue makes you so incredibly wet, you feel arousal trickling down your inner thigh. Her hips buck forward and her hand caresses your hair in a manner so fond you’d mistake her lust for care if you didn’t know any better. You work her up with quiet, muffled moans around her dick and she guides you down her length with one hand, unable to tear her eyes from your pretty face as you suck her off. You take as much of her as you can, feel the head brushing the back of your throat every few thrusts of her hips, and revel in the short, throaty moans spilling from Kafka’s lips.

“Mmhh… How pretty you look with your mouth full,” she manages to tease you in between low gasps, smugness dripping from her words. You give her sensitive tip a particularly harsh suck and bask in the uncontrolled jerk of her hips.

You look up at the crease between her brows and the rapid rise of her chest, her audible pants intoxicating you. With her head tilted to gaze down at you, strands of magenta hang in the air like threads of silk. You squeeze her base once to draw a longer moan from her. The taste of her bypasses your every thought, and you can only focus on her throbbing, wet cock filling your mouth. You stroke her with the same hungry pace, occasionally squeezing your thighs together to appease the heat between your legs. She’s so hard, so needy, you can’t help the indignant whine that escapes you when her fingers grip your hair and pull you away from her dick. A thin string of saliva connects her head to your tongue and breaks with the distance, falling onto your chin.

“Don’t pout, you’ll get your fill,” Kafka smiles despite her heavy breathing, urging you to stand with her hold on your head, “I’ll make sure of it.”

A tinge of irritation surges in your bloodstream at the cocky edge of her tone and the way your pussy aches for her touch. Her nose brushes yours once you’re on your feet, warm breath fanning over your lips. You hate that you want her, that your body responds to her by melting into hers as she steals the air in your lungs with a single heady kiss. You hate the way your thighs part almost immediately to allow her wandering hand better access to your cunt. You hate the amused chuckle that leaves her when she realizes you’re not wearing any underwear and rubs between your slit with a finger. And yet, you only get wetter under her ministrations, brows twisting with the pleasure she’s giving you. Her digit withdraws from your slick pussy, glimmering with your arousal, and Kafka stares at you with lidded eyes as she brings it to her lips to suck it clean. The wet sound of her mouth sends a jolt straight to your core. You need her to fuck you so badly, you can barely think before grasping the leather strap under her collarbones to pull her forward.

Your lips meet in a messy, heated kiss, her salty taste on your tongue and your slick on hers. You stumble down the hallway, losing pieces of clothing along the way, until you reach the bedroom and Kafka firmly pushes you down onto the bed with a hand on your bare chest. Her mouth is locked with yours and you feel her touch on your hips, across your waist, over your ribcage where your heart drums for her. Her thumb applies pressure on your erect nipple, drawing a needy sigh from you. You sneak around her chest to unclasp her bra and she assists you in sliding it off her arms to discard it on the floor. Her cock presses against your thigh while she teases your nipple between two fingers. You know you’re ruining the sheets beneath you but you can’t bring yourself to care; you get more desperate with every minute she’s not buried inside you, unable to contain the quiet whimpers that escape you.

“Kafka…” you breathe out in a whine, aware of how much it turns her on to hear her name out your lips. Her cock throbs on your thigh at the sound.

She plants kisses down your jaw and pinches your nipple a couple of times, the feeling delicious yet not enough. Her hum rumbles through her chest, “Mmm… Pleading already?”

Aeons, she’s infuriating. You wrap a leg around her waist and her length rests on your slit, but you bite the flesh of your cheek to keep in a breathy moan, not wanting to inflate her ego more than it already is. Kafka reaches down to rub her tip between your lower lips, almost groaning as your slick mixes with the saliva from your tongue. Your lungs stutter and you suck in a breath, nails digging into the expanse of her back. Her head grazes your aching clit, you arch further into her to repeat the action. It feels so good you forget all about who you’re dealing with until she speaks up again.

Kafka’s licks a broad stripe up your neck, then her mouth brushes the skin of your jaw on its way to your earlobe, pressing a kiss just below.

“You’re dripping…” Though her voice is close to your eardrums, you barely register the words she utters, lost in the pleasure of your clit sliding against the thick of her cock. “How much do you want this, mm?”

There’s a lick on the cartilage of your ear before she pulls away to look at you through the dull pink of her irises, eyelids heavy. The movement of her dick on your pussy comes to halt and it takes you losing that relieving friction to understand that she expects an answer.

“W-What?”

“Did you miss me this much?”

Your heel digs into her lower back to pull her closer, but her lips simply stretch into a knowing, teasing smile. She presses her tip against your twitching clit once, delighting in the flutter of her eyelashes and the beginnings of a needy moan that you refuse to let her hear.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply, but even you have to admit that your sentence lacks conviction or venom.

“Mm…” Kafka guides the tip of her cock to your gushing entrance and your next inhale gets caught in your throat. “Is it flattery if it’s true?”

“You w— Hah—!”

She pushes the head inside you, feeling you clench instinctively at the intrusion, and lets out a sigh of pleasure as your warm, tight cunt welcomes her cock. She watches a quiver go through your bottom lip and briefly bites her own. One hand digs into the plush of your love handle, the other sinks into the bedsheets next to your head. She slides another inch into you and your fingers tangle in her locks, tugging at the sensation of her length inside you, stretching you so well a breathless gasp spills from your mouth. Her smile is smug, pleased at your silence, and you swallow as you muster the strength to speak. Kafka leans closer, the tip of her nose against your cheek and her breath warming your skin. Slowly, she bottoms out completely and gives you a moment to adjust to the fullness. Something in the way her pants falter occasionally tells you that she needs that pause too. Her lips are on your jaw in a kiss way too soft, too gentle to be from her; her who means nothing to you aside from the pleasure she provides you.

“I missed you.”

You feel a buzzing sensation in your lower belly that has nothing to do with her cock nestled in your cunt. The words are murmured like a confession but you know they aren’t one, Kafka means to provoke you so that she can put you in your place, a game you’ve played since the day you met. You can’t explain why it’s as if your heartstrings are plucked and manipulated like those of an instrument, its melody disorganized and disharmonious. You don’t understand the sudden irritation that mixes with your arousal, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tug at her hair and her head follows the movement backwards, lips parting.

“I hate you,” you manage to utter through gritted teeth, and you’re frustrated to find that there’s no truth in what you’ve said.

Kafka’s growing grin turns mocking. “Aww. But you’re sucking me in…”

To prove her point, she withdraws from you just to thrust back in, her tip hitting that sensitive spot inside you. Her length rubs your walls with every thrust of her hips, rendering you speechless aside from the quiet whimpers that fall from your tongue, and your anger fades away, replaced by the desperate need to come. Your fingers messily swipe at your clit and your nails paint crescent moons on her back from how tightly you’re holding on to her body. Despite her own need, Kafka is determined to pull more lovely sounds from you. Her pace is tantalizingly slow but harsh in the way you prefer as she fills you to the brim. You feel her all around you, her lips on your jaw, the pads of her fingers sinking into your flesh, her cock buried deep inside your fluttering cunt. Her low moans and short groans hit your ears in sinful sounds that only make you wetter. Her breasts are flushed to yours, following the rocking of her hips.

“Fuck, fuck—“ you babble breathily, lost in the pleasure, “more…”

You don’t register Kafka manhandling you with an arm around your waist so that you’re straddling her lap instead, only that the change in position allows her to drive deeper into you. You moan brokenly as she grabs your hips and guides you down onto her cock in one go. Your thighs tremble, aching, and your orgasm is imminent. Kafka groans into your shoulder, bouncing you on her dick, the taut coil in her belly begging to snap. Your slick trickles down her length and your wet pussy swallows her cock, you clench around her like you dread she’ll pull out before you can come. She uses a palm to apply pressure on your lower stomach, feeling the faint outline of her bulge inside you, and the sensation pushes you over the edge. You cream on her cock with a cry. Your head tilts back and Kafka leans away from your shoulder to gaze at your cum drenching her girth. She knows how sensitive you get after an orgasm, can feel you twitch against her with the aftershocks, but she can’t help jerking her hips upwards to fuck your cum back into your pussy. She wants to see her own cum merge with yours until you’re so full of her that you’re gushing.

“Kafka—!” You gasp out, fingers gripping her loose ponytail, “W-Wait…”

She shushes you with an insistent kiss. She’s close, guiding your hips up and down her throbbing cock. With a particularly harsh thrust, that familiar coil in her stomach finally breaks and her cum spills into you in hot, intense spurts against your inner walls. It’s too much for you to handle even as her thrusts stutter, yet a second orgasm builds inside you, quick and desperate; your body moves on its own accord, further stimulating you and drawing a long, drawn out moan out of you. Kafka’s lips are parted and you miss the sheen in her eyes as she stares up at you unashamedly riding her until you come around her dick a second time.

You’re both coming down from your high some time later, your eyes are shut and the pace of your rising chest slows down enough for you to take deep breaths. Kafka is a comforting presence beside you on the bed, and like you do with many things, you ignore the warmth that is born from your chest and spreads across your torso. A welcomed kind of exhaustion creeps up on you, almost pulling you into a dream, but you hear Kafka move next to you so you turn your head to look at her. She’s fixing her hair, putting back locks of magenta into her ponytail. She feels your gaze on her and meets your eyes with a small smile. There’s that twitch of your heart and fingertips again at the sight of the soft glow of her sweaty skin under your bedroom lights.

“You look exhausted,” her tone lacks its usual teasing edge but you’re too tired to notice, “I’ll use the shower and lock behind me with the spare key. You should sleep. I’ll message you tomorrow.”

You don’t say anything to that. You stare at the ceiling as the shower is turned on in the background.

Kafka doesn’t text the next day.

#honkai star rail #hsr kafka #hsr #hsr x reader #kafka x reader #kafka x you #hsr x you #hsr smut #kafka smut #dom!kafka

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maevebabyy · 2 months ago

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CHANGE OF PERSPECTIVE

sophia laforteza x fem reader

a/n - first fic whoo!!!! sophia’s a performing arts teacher and reader is a basketball coach. i wrote this half asleep pls 😭😭

wc - 3.7k

the air in dream academy was full of tension as the school year kicked off with principal son announcing the reallocation of the school year’s budget in favour of the basketball team.

ms. sophia laforteza, the young but fiercely dedicated performing arts teacher, was known for her passionate commitment to the arts, having already won quite a few high-school performing arts awards despite her short time teaching at dream academy. so it was understandable why she had gotten frustrated when she first heard about the budget cuts.

while you, the varsity girls basketball coach and one of the phys-ed teachers, were all about winning games and boosting school spirit. you had built up and maintained the team’s impressive win-loss record during your time as head coach – winning state championships two years in a row now, making dream academy a distinguished school when it came to women’s basketball.

the two of you had been at odds for as long as anyone could remember, each believing their program deserved more funding and recognition for their efforts. at least, that’s what you thought it looked like on the outside. daniela, your baby sister, was the only one who you told about your (obvious) crush on the drama teacher.

it was unusual to say the least, sophia usually gave off a very cool and calm demeanour around her students, wanting to set a good example. but right now, sophia was livid. waving her hands around like she usually does when she’s worked up or excited, this time, it was the former. her students could only watch amusedly as they stretched out their muscles.

“this is ridiculous! how can they prioritize a sport over the arts?” she fumed to her students in the theater.

one of her students, lara – a high-school senior and daniela’s best friend, starts giggling at how worked up her performing arts teacher had gotten.

“damn, coach really does get you worked up, doesn’t she?”

a few other students giggle at lara’s observation. this, alongside many others, were one of the many perks of being a young teacher. sophia’s students felt like they were learning from an older sister, rather than a teacher. it made sense though, sophia was only 22 and leading a bunch of high-schoolers into the world of performing arts.

sophia huffed lightly, bringing her hands to her forehead as she rubbed it, “well, yes, lara, how does coach y/n deserve more funding? we killed it last year with our plays!”

lara stops a giggle from escaping, snorting in the process, “it’s not even a whole lot. dani told me they only received a little more to afford those new team backpacks they’ve been whining about. wait, shh though! It’s supposed to be a secret!”

the drama teacher rolls her eyes again, of course you’d spend the extra money on flashy new team backpacks. if it had been her it would have gone towards something more useful like new mic packs, or better props.

“a little goes a long way, lara.” sophia remarks, shaking her head.

another student voices out their opinion, a teasing grin on her face. “coach y/n seriously has a lot of influence on you, teach”

it was the highschool junior, megan, she was both a cheerleader and a part of the school’s performing arts club. a wider teasing grin appears on the redhead’s face, “sooo, enemies to-”

before the junior is able to finish her sentence, sophia quickly cuts her off, clapping her hands together.

“alright! enough stretching, run your lines for rehearsals!” a bright and wide smile on the drama teacher’s face as she purposefully ignores the tease she was about to receive.

meanwhile, you reveled in the news with your team, sharing the good news with your players. your focus solely on the upcoming season.

you gather your team around at the end of practice, your players keeping eye contact with you as you rounded everybody up. making eye contact with your baby sister, you tell her with your weird sibling telepathy not to pull anything funny to ruin the surprise.

“okay girls, that was a great practice! especially you yoonchae. you’re improving quickly” you grin widely, praising the korean girl. “in fact, all of you girls have been working really hard for this upcoming season.”

you gesture for one of your players, manon, the team captain, and the only other person to know about the surprise aside from daniela to come up and stand beside you.

with a wide grin of her own, manon reveals the new team bags you had hidden behind you in a box. “ta-da! coach actually got us those new team bags we’ve been talking about!”

you grin widely as the girls excitedly rushed forward to grab their own bag which donned their school colours and sported their number and last name on the bag. watching them try on the bag for themselves and count out how many pockets the spacious bag had.

“i assume you all like it then?” you chuckle, crossing your arms as you watch your team nod, shouting out their thank you’s.

“let’s have a good season this year, girls.” you grin.

a week had passed since then, and principal son had called in the both of you into his office. you sat across from sophia who was on her phone as you both waited for the principal to finish talking on the phone. the secretary in the middle of the lobby typing away on his computer, completing desk work.

waiting in the lobby with sophia was suffocating– but in a good way. sure, she might’ve sent you some weird questioning looks, but damn she’s pretty. her jet-black straight hair framing her sharp features perfectly, her perfect posture even when sitting down, the way her soft smile immediately warmed up the room when she found something funny on her phone. before you could keep studying her face, your attention is brought away from the drama teacher as you hear principal son’s voice who had just opened his door. “come in.”

walking behind sophia, you take the seat beside her as principal son sat in his office chair behind his desk in front of you two.

“i’ve got a special opportunity for you two.” he grins, eyeing the both of you before continuing. “we want to host a community workshop day for the younger kids in our high school’s area who may potentially end up enrolling in dream academy.”

principal son pauses to gauge our reactions, chuckling to himself as he sees the confused looks. “since you two run our two biggest programs, i want you two to work together on this. it will primarily revolve around the arts and sports, though primarily basketball in terms of sports since we do the best in that one.”

sophia speaks up from the chair beside you, “when exactly does this community day happen?”

“you two will have about a month to prepare.”

both of you immediately shot up your eyebrows in surprise. “a month?” you ask, eyes widened.

“you heard me clearly coach.” son chuckles to himself, “i’ll check in every once in a while.”

just as quickly as you and sophia were in that room, you suddenly find yourself back out in the lobby. you face sophia slowly, “so… a month?”

sophia groans, “don’t start-”

“we kinda have to…”

sophia silently curses, you were right. the two of you desperately needed to start brainstorming soon if she wanted a community day she could be proud of. “fine, swing by the mpr as soon as the bell rings at the end of the day.”

“but-”

“you don’t have basketball practice today do you?” sophia cuts in, leaving no room for argument.

you shake your head no weakly.

“okay, i’ll see you then.”

before you’re able to respond, sophia quickly walks away from you and towards the mpr.

you hear a soft whistle behind you, coming from the secretary. “really got a thing for the feisty ones?”

you flush lightly, stuttering, “it’s not like that, sohey.” you take a moment to regain your composure, “besides, i think… self confident would be the more correct term here.”

eventually, the bell rings exactly at 3:30 and you find yourself already by the mpr doors, hesitating to go in for whatever reason.

“you got this y/n, c’mon, don’t be weird- it’s just a quick meeting, yep, with just the two of you-“

“what’re you doing n/n?”

you let out a quiet yelp as you are surprised by your baby sister who snuck behind you.

“nothing dani…”

daniela quirks an eyebrow, a smirk forming on her lips. “mhm… sure… just waiting by ms sophia’s door right?”

“dani? i don’t like that smirk-“

“you’ll thank me for this later!” in an instant, daniela pushes you into the mpr, giggling.

you stumble into the mpr, almost tripping. as you regain your balance you’re met with sophia’s questioning stare. feeling nervous under it, you feel the need to explain yourself.

clearing your throat, you reply. “didn’t wanna be late is all.”

“mhm. what was that scream outside? it sounded serious.” sophia raises an eyebrow, a small smile threatening to lift up.

“ah….” you’re silent for a moment. “there must’ve been a fight, totally.”

“and, as a phys-ed teacher, shouldn’t you stop them?”

“nah, where’s the character development in that?”

sophia huffs lightly, disgusing her small giggle before returning to that cold demeanor she’s used to keeping around you. “alright, come here, i’ve drafted some ideas for the community day.”

that afterschool evening had gone on for longer than the two of you expected. sophia surprisingly tolerating your presence for more than two hours.

after tweaking and modifying the initial plan sophia came up with, you both finally agreed on something.

“this’ll work.” you grin warmly, unintentionally making eye contact with sophia, who was reciprocating your smile and gaze, but only for a moment before returning back to her stern self around you.

but wow— even if it was just for a moment you could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating momentarily there, the butterflies going berserk in your stomach.

“better not mess this up, y/n” sophia scoffs.

admittedly, sophia was still hesitant to work together with you, but seeing as she had no choice, she accepted.

as the days rolled on, the community workshop day loomed ever closer. the tension between you and sophia had shifted; while you still had your disagreements, there was a sense of camaraderie slowly forming. you were finding common ground in your shared goal of making the event a success, even if you couldn’t quite shake the competitive edge.

one evening, as you helped out during a rehearsal, you caught yourself watching sophia again. she was guiding her students through a scene, her passion shining through every gesture. it was hard not to admire her—her energy, her dedication, the way she inspired those kids to be their best. you couldn’t help but think about how different she was from the cool, collected teacher everyone else saw. here, she was vibrant and alive, and it struck a chord deep within you.

“seriously, n/n,” daniela nudged you, breaking your train of thought. “you’re staring again.”

your little sister had started accompanying you to these rehearsals, wanting to get a ride home from you instead of taking the bus home.

you turned to her, feigning nonchalance. “i’m just observing.”

“observing? right. you’re practically drooling,” she teased, her voice light but full of mischief.

you groaned, brushing off her comments. “i’m not. and could you be quiet about it?”

“oh, please. everyone can see it, dear sister, you’re not subtle. just ask her out already,” dani insisted, a grin plastered across her face.

“not happening,” you shot back, though the thought had crossed your mind more than once. “she’s too focused on her students, and i’m… well, i’m the basketball coach.”

dani rolled her eyes. “you’re both teachers. just because you’re rivals doesn’t mean you can’t also be… whatever else.”

as you tried to come up with a witty retort, the rehearsal wrapped up, and the students began to disperse. sophia caught your eye, giving you a nod of acknowledgment.

“see? she’s looking at you,” your baby sister whispered, elbowing you in the side.

“shut up,” you replied, trying to suppress a smile.

“y/n! can you help me with this?” sophia called, gesturing toward a stack of props.

you obliged, walking over with a bit of hesitance. as you helped her carry them into a storage room and sort through the items, the atmosphere shifted again. “thanks for helping out,” she said, her tone warmer than usual. “it’s been nice having you around.”

“yeah, well, i figured it’d be good to lend a hand,” you replied, trying to keep your voice casual. “we’re in this together after all.”

sophia looked thoughtful for a moment, her gaze piercing yet soft. “i know we have our differences, but i appreciate your effort. i just want to make sure our students get a memorable experience.”

“i get that. i want the same for my team,” you said, hoping your sincerity showed. “maybe we can find ways to highlight both programs.”

a brief silence hung between you, the tension from earlier fading into something more comfortable. “that’s the plan,” she said, a hint of a smile creeping onto her lips. “we’re a team, after all.”

just then, the door swung open, and daniela reentered, eyes gleaming with mischief. “hey, i just had a thought—why don’t we mix things up at the community day? like a mini talent show where the basketball girls have to perform something artsy? we could host it in between the different workshops.”

sophia’s eyes lit up at the idea, while you felt your stomach drop. “what? no way—”

daniela cut you off, grinning. “think about it! a fun way to bridge the gap between your two programs! i know my big sister here would be more than willing to do whatever you want miss sophia!”

sophia seemed intrigued, leaning forward. “it could be a great way to showcase teamwork. and we could have them work together on the performances!”

“absolutely not,” you interjected, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “i’m not getting on stage.”

“come on, n/n! it would be hilarious! and i’m sure the other girls wouldn't mind” daniela insisted, nudging you playfully.

sophia chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “i think it sounds like a great idea.”

“yeah, well, you’re not the one who has to perform,” you muttered, crossing your arms defensively.

sophia’s laughter echoed through the room, making your heart race. “don’t worry, we can make it fun. besides, it’ll be great for school spirit!”

“fine, but only if i can do a slam dunk in the middle of my performance,” you shot back, joking.

“deal,” sophia replied, smirking.

with the date approaching in less than a week, the two of you began meeting more frequently. it was strange how much time you two spent together, and despite your initial hesitations, sophia found herself looking forward to those moments. each planning session revealed more layers to you—your humor, your dedication, and that rare softness that broke through your brash exterior.

one afternoon, while going over logistics for the event, you couldn’t help but ask, “so what’s your favorite part of teaching?” it felt like a risk to the two, stepping out of the bounds of your usual playful bickering.

sophia paused, her expression thoughtful. “honestly? it’s seeing the kids transform. watching them come out of their shells during a performance or find confidence in themselves. it’s like a light bulb goes off.”

you nodded, impressed. “that’s really cool. i can see how much they look up to you.”

sophia’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she brushed off the compliment. “thanks. but enough about me—what about you? what drives you as a coach?”

you shrugged, feeling a wave of sincerity wash over you. “winning is great, but it’s more about seeing the girls grow, too. watching them realize their potential, support each other, and build a team—that’s what i love the most.”

sophia smiles softly to herself, though it goes unnoticed by you. maybe there as more in common between you two than she thought.

on the eve of the event, you and sophia decided to meet one last time to finalize the schedule and make sure everything was ready for tomorrow. you both settled into the mpr, the tension between you now more comfortable, laced with a sense of friendliness.

“i can’t believe it’s finally happening tomorrow,” you said, looking around the room filled with props and equipment. “feels weird.”

“yeah, i just hope it all goes smoothly,” she replied, biting her lip, her brows furrowing in concern.

“you’ve worked hard. the kids love you, and the performances will be amazing. trust yourself,” you encouraged, your tone sincere.

sophia glanced at you, her expression softening. “thanks, y/n. that means a lot coming from you.”

just then, a loud crash echoed from the back of the mpr as a student accidentally knocked over a stack of props, causing both of you to jump.

“great! just what we need before a big event,” you said, rushing over to help.

as you both started picking up the scattered items, your hands brushed against each other. the moment lingered, and you both froze for a heartbeat before quickly pulling away, a rush of heat spreading across your cheeks.

“uh… sorry,” you muttered, clearing your throat. “guess we’re a bit clumsy tonight.”

“yeah, clumsy,” she echoed, though a soft smile tugged at her lips. “just a lot on our minds.”

you chuckled, relieved at the lightness returning to the moment. “right. what’s our first activity again?”

sophia reached for the clipboard, flipping through the schedule. “we start with some icebreaker games before splitting into workshops. your girls will lead a few drills, and then we’ll have the mini talent show later.”

“can’t wait to see my team actually do this,” you chuckle.

“don’t sell them short. you might be surprised,” she replied, a teasing glint in her eye. “they might just steal the show.”

“or bring it crashing down,” you countered with a laugh.

the day of the community workshop finally arrived, buzzing with excitement and nerves. the gym was transformed into a vibrant hub, with colourful decorations and stations set up for various activities. you could hear the chatter and laughter of kids filling the space, making it hard to believe that just a month ago, you and sophia had been at odds over budget cuts.

as the event kicked off, you looked over at sophia, who was in her element, directing her students with a flair that made you admire her even more. the icebreaker games were a hit, with kids mingling and having fun, but the real challenge loomed ahead—the mini talent show.

the talent show began, and the kids showcased their various talents—singing, dancing, and acting, each performance more impressive than the last. sophia cheered enthusiastically for each act, her passion evident.

when it was finally your team’s turn, you could feel the weight of expectation. you had arranged for a fun skit that would highlight teamwork, incorporating elements of basketball with a comedic twist. you could see the nervousness in your players' eyes as they shuffled onto the makeshift stage, but you also saw the determination flicker behind them.

“okay, girls! remember what we practiced” you chuckle lightheartedly, hoping to boost their spirits.

the skit started off a bit shaky, but as your players found their rhythm, the laughter from the audience built. you caught a glimpse of sophia’s delighted expression, her laughter ringing out above the crowd. it made your heart race—she was enjoying this, and you wanted to keep that smile on her face.

eventually, the night came to a close as parents and their children began filing out of the gym after a successful event. you and sophia found yourselves amidst the remnants of the community workshop. the atmosphere buzzed with the afterglow of laughter and excitement, but now it was just the two of you, surrounded by colourful props and decorations.

“alright, everyone, you can head home! great job today!” you called out, shooing away the last few lingering students. “seriously, don’t worry about the cleanup. we’ve got it covered.”

sophia smiled, watching the students file out, their faces still glowing from the event. once the doors swung shut, a comfortable silence settled over the gym. you glanced over at her, taking in the way she brushed a stray hair behind her ear, a hint of relief in her expression.

“looks like we’re officially on cleanup duty,” you said, picking up a few scattered props.

“yeah, but it was worth it,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with the remnants of excitement. “everyone really had a great time.”

you hear sophia giggle softly, pausing her clean up duties. “you know, i really thought we wouldn’t be able to pull this off. i practically hated your guts a month ago.”

you chuckled lightheartedly in response, “i was a bit nervous at first, too. you were so closed off before this workshop thing.” you pause, picking up a few more props. “I’m glad we moved past it though.”

she rolled her eyes, but there was a soft smile on her lips. “well, i guess you’ve seen a different side of me. and maybe i’ve seen a different side of you too.”

as you both continued cleaning up, the atmosphere shifted. it felt lighter, charged with a new kind of understanding. “so, what do you think we should do next?” you asked, trying to sound casual while your heart raced.

sophia looked thoughtful. “maybe we could plan another event? we could make it a tradition.”

“sounds great,” you agreed, your mind racing with possibilities. then, gathering your courage, you added, “or… we could hang out outside of school. grab a bite to eat together sometime?”

her eyes widened slightly, and you could see the gears turning in her head. “are you asking me out, coach?”

“maybe i am,” you said, stepping a little closer, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

a slow smile spread across her face, illuminating her features. “i’d like that. i’ll take you up on that offer, y/n.”

a/n - i got lazy at the end sorry LOL

#katseye x reader #sophia laforteza #sophia laforteza x reader #katseye #maevebabyy #forgive me this was originally supposed to be around 4.5k words LOL

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disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago

Text

is it killing you like it’s killing me?

alternatively: we haven’t spoken in almost a week (prev)

in which she and logan try to navigate the worst part about dating your literal coworker

(series masterlist)

logan sits in his seat, leaning forward to prop himself up on his elbow as he tries to type away on his phone in the least awkward way possible. he hears the heels clicking against the gravel first before he catches a whiff of a familiar floral scent.

he doesn't turn his head directly, just shifts his eyes to his side, watching his literal girlfriend walk right past him without even stopping by to greet him. he can almost make out the sound of her sweet voice amidst the noise around him, her shocking choice for a dark motif outfit contrasting against the pure white of the person next to her.

only then he realises that his girlfriend is quite literally walking around the paddocks with mercedes personnel. she engages in casual conversation with susie wolff every once in a while around the paddocks, but never has he seen her out and about with her. mick trails behind them, looking down at his phone as he matches their pace.

upon simply walking past the williams patio, mick looks up at the lack of the younger driver's acknowledgement of the guy in blue sitting very obviously in the white chair. mick cranes his neck back, shooting logan a questioning stare.

to which, logan only shrugs. mick is one of the few friends that she decided to tell; by that, he means that they got caught sneaking around the paddocks last year right by the haas racing home.

"still walked right past you?" a british accent makes logan tear his eyes off his girlfriend, meeting alex's brown eyes as he approaches the table. "how bad was the fight that you guys had?"

"pretty bad," logan mutters with a small smile, putting his phone down gently on the table. "did george tell you anything? did she tell them anything about the fight we had?"

alex frowns, shaking his head. logan came out and confessed that they, in fact, have been in a relationship for about two years. at first, alex was a bit appalled that logan was able to lie to him so fluently for the majority of the season.

after he processed his initial reaction, which only took about a minute or so, alex cheered and congratulated logan. as far as alex was concerned, it physically hurt to watch this young man be head over heels for someone he presumed to not be as interested in him as he is with her.

with his new-found knowledge of their involvement, alex went on a mission to pry george and lando - the people she's consistently stuck with all week - to try and figure out if she's said anything to them. or, has at least told them what's running through her mind.

alex did immediately run off. he was not glad to find out that his friends found out before him, but was very excited to share his new discovery.

he ran to the mercedes' racing home about an hour ago, squealing and giggling as he yanked george away from toto to talk. they were shortly joined by lando, spewing detailed accounts of the night he caught them in japan on a date.

then lando dropped his giggles, shaking his head at the assumption that their fight looked like it had gotten pretty bad. george then perks up, whispering very softly and incoherently about how bad it had seemed two nights ago during the opening ceremony rehearsal.

"they said she's been quite reserved since the first night," alex explains, lips pursed as he tries to remember everything that had nothing to do with the fact that he disappeared for a hot half hour because they derailed from the original topic of conversation.

alex found themselves talking about how they saw her crying in max's arm the other night, then concluding the conversation with what hair colour he should get next. "they said she's been with max a lot. hasn't even really talked to oscar, lando said."

logan scoffs, locking his jaw. he's not saying he's jealous of max verstappen, though it does seem to be that way to the naked eye.

okay so he's jealous of max verstappen. but in his defence, who wouldn't be? logan finds himself consistently at the back of the grid race after race, and there is his girlfriend sharing simple celebrations with the two-time world champion.

more often than not, on a race weekend, when she has to force a little distance from him to avoid partaking in the rumour mill, she's adopted by the older drivers to shower with information and a lot of love.

"yeah, she was walking with susie earlier," logan gestures at the long stretch ahead of them in the paddocks. "and she's wearing black."

"black?" alex repeats, raising an eyebrow. "like full black?" logan nods. "oh, you guys have got to talk soon. how long haven't you talked?"

"about a week."

"god," alex cries, rubbing his eyes. "okay, okay. we'll find a way to make you guys talk, okay?"

"how? she's been avoiding me all week. and i think this is something we need to come together on our own and figure out."

logan does have a big ego, but it all seems to fall apart when it comes to her. it's always been a topic for shits and giggles growing up though that seemed to change after they went on their first date.

almost immediately, everyone could tell how head over heels he was just for her.

"yeah, but neither of you is even trying?" alex points out, tilting his head and furrowing his eyebrows. "are you serious?"

"i can see how i worded that wrongly."

alex pushes his chair back, heading straight for the building behind them. "i will consult the madman. wait right here."

"whoa!" logan calls out, throwing his arms in the air. "you told your girlfriend that i have a girlfriend? dude, you were sworn to secrecy!"

"you're not as convincing as (y/n), from what i heard," alex purses his lips together, shaking his head. "and, lily knew before me, anyway. oscar's girlfriend whispered it in her ear when they went to the club last night when (y/n) refused to go out on the dance floor."

"fine. but come back with good news only."

"i'll try my best."

"it wasn't easy, i guess," toto shrugs, his office chair being manoeuvred around his small office by his feet planted against the floor. he stirs the coffee in his cup and looks at the girl curled into a ball in the chair on the other side of his table. "you need to put each other above the results of a weekend. you should not have let that get to you."

"but i guess it is kinda hard watching your girlfriend achieve the things you want to also be achieving," susie mutters, fingers pressed against her lips as she thinks.

for susie to know of her relationship with logan, you'd have to date back to over two years ago. susie had been fully vouching for her, trying to get her opportunities in a higher level to help her progress. so, of course, she had to excitedly tell susie about it.

if there was anyone who would be supportive, it's her. and susie didn't find a problem in their relationship, only claiming to tread carefully since they are always racing against one another.

susie is just more surprised that the difference in performance and the pressure of it all only just got to them now. racing alongside one another in f2 should have been the one that did it, but she guesses it's because they used to be a lot closer in the results back then.

"basically," toto sighs, blowing cold air into his cup of coffee. "put your relationship first if you want to make this last. and i know logan means a lot to you, so i am sure you will find a way around this."

"but why did it feel like it was my fault that he wasn't achieving the same things as me?" she sighs, throwing her head back into the wall with a soft thud. she looks at the ceiling of toto's office, knees to her chest as she hides away from the cameras and the prying questions of those who know of their relationship.

"you need to come together in the moments of hard times," toto mutters, shaking his head. "he's not doing well; you are doing well. find a middle ground."

"how am i supposed to do that, toto?" she yelps, melting into the seat, legs and arms spreading as she scratches the top of her head. "we literally just had the biggest fight of our relationship. two nights ago, i didn't even think there was no other way out of this but a breakup until max made me talk to susie."

the reason she's been following max instead of sebastian around all weekend is because she thought that he would be able to figure it out with her. alas, they were both stumped that night of the rehearsals, sipping on beer in a nearby bar.

she found herself hopeless, bracing herself to admit defeat to the pressures of dating someone within the sport. until max perked up after chugging half his glass of gin and tonic, eyes shimmering as the greatest idea he's had all night finally came to him.

"you know who i bet had to navigate a tricky situation?" max asked her, pointing a finger to her face knowingly. "susie and toto."

she hesitated, but max did make a compelling case. all he had to say was: "she used to race and he was an investor in the motorsport."

"i think," susie speaks, then pauses as she flutters her eyes to think for a moment, "that you're both great kids."

"thanks, that's exactly what my mum said," she answers flatly, unamused at the answer.

"so it might not be as difficult to resolve it," susie smiles. "i'm sure you can find a way."

"i'm here because i don't know a way," she repeats, throwing her arms around in the air. "you can't just say that to me and expect me to come up with a resolution instantly. i've avoided my boyfriend for almost a week because i thought there was only one solution!"

susie exchanges a smile with her husband, who is quietly giggling to himself at his table. then she looks at the young driver with a smile that emits less ridicule. "i can't do that for you. you have to figure it out with him; not us."

"are you saying i need to go and talk to him?" she frowns, folding her arms over her chest. "like i have to go up to him and talk to him? in person?"

"you can't do it over text message," toto frowns in confusion. he lifts his eyes to look at susie. "right?"

"she can," susie laughs, sitting on the armrest of his seat. she looks at the driver again. "but she shouldn't."

“handle this like an adult.”

“fine.”

logan was simply minding his own business in his driver's room when alex barged in (he's been doing that for the past week because he knows there's no possibility of a girl inside) and dragged him out.

he wasn't going to ask questions, he just followed alex blindly, dropping his head low in confusion.

right by the steps that lead into the william's racing home, their small group is huddled into a makeshift circle. they're leaned in with hushed whispers and excited giggles with lando even getting a bit loud with every couple of words he said.

she likes to call them the elite group that's somehow managed to find out about her and logan, though everyone argued with her that they didn't make much of an effort to really keep it under wraps.

"okay, so we came up with a plan," alex says, finally letting go of logan's sleeve.

max lifts his head, hands on his hips. "i wouldn't trust any plan you come up with."

"hey, i came up with that plan," lily.m scoffs, holding a hand against her chest. "excuse you."

"oh, then that's better," george agrees with a smile. "so what have you come up with?"

"really? you trust a plan that had alex's input on it?" lando cries, scratching his head. "you're gonna break them up! that's not the outcome we're trying to achieve, people! focus!"

"highly offended, actually," lily.m frowns. "like you can come up with a better plan."

alex waves his arms in the air in an attempt to hush the chatter that his friends are in. "no, listen! it's a good plan!"

"i also have a plan," mick speaks up, reaching his arm out into the middle of the circle to get their attention.

"i'd trust him more than whatever you two have come up with," max mutters, pointing at the couple accusingly.

logan actually appreciates the banter that's going on and it almost makes him forget the real reason they've all gathered here today. it's refreshing to be the one in the middle of older drivers' conversations.

this must be why his girlfriend has grown quite fond of them. but it's hard not to feel like an outsider.

"hey, we spent the better part of our alone time in my driver's room scheming!" alex defends himself, reaching out to push mick's arm away.

"hey, don't do that!" george laughs, smacking the back of alex's hand. "apologise!"

"guys," oscar finally speaks up. "i think we should address the problem at hand?"

"we will, but max says my plan would never work!" alex squeaks. "take that back!"

"i'm only speaking the truth!"

"but mate-"

"what are you guys doing?"

"hold on, (y/n), max is being- (y/n)!" alex screams just as everyone turns their head to find the smaller girl looking up at their group with a weird stare. she holds a pepsi tightly in her hands, pressing it against her chest as she takes an innocent sip.

logan feels his heart drop at the sight of his confused girlfriend standing there staring at them with wide eyes. but he also just feels an overwhelming surge of relief finally being this close to her again.

oscar is right: this is the longest they've gone without talking since they all met during karting. even his months-long trips back to florida never kept them apart from one another for this long. a couple days at best before they start falling back into old habits.

"we're having a," max trails, turning his head back to desperately search for somebody who can finish his sentence for him. "a..."

"we're discussing what to get for supper after the opening ceremony later," lily grins, elbowing oscar beside her to push him forward slightly.

oscar stumbles a step forward, clearing his throat as he meets his best friend's eyes. "yeah, we haven't found a place yet. we were just about to find you to ask you if you had any ideas!"

"and you're all going together?" she asks suspiciously, her eyes slowly scanning the participants of the circle. she momentarily meets logan's eyes before she settles for oscar's gaze again. "all of you?"

lando looks around, realising how weird their group has grown to be. he takes the initiative to answer her: "yeah. why not?"

she presses her lips together, moving her head to the side slightly to show him that she's not entirely buying the lie. "really?”

“yeah,” max nods excitedly. “we couldn’t find you so we discussed first.”

“but i’ve never seen you,” she points at oscar, then at logan, “and you hang out with george before.”

logan raises his eyebrows, taken aback by her sudden verbal acknowledgement of his presence. he shrugs, then turns his head to oscar for help.

“what, we can’t get to know each other over dinner?” george calls out with a scoff. “all this criticism — do you even know of a place we can go to to get some late-night food?”

“can it wait?” she asks sweetly with a small smile. “i kinda need to talk to logan alone.”

there’s a moment of silence.

“you’re making dinner plans without us, aren’t you,” mick jokes, furrowing his eyebrows at her. “why would you do that?”

she laughs, walking towards her boyfriend with a hand held out to his arm. “i just need to steal him for a little while — i promise we’ll head out to supper with you guys tonight.”

her hand lands on logan’s arm, wrapping itself around his arm. “we’ll catch you guys later?”

“okay,” max answers hesitantly. “don’t forget to think of where to eat.”

“max,” alex says through gritted teeth, hitting his shoulder.

“what?” max asks innocently, throwing his arms in the air as they start to pull away from the group.

she barely takes two steps away from them before she whispers to him, “can i talk to you for a bit?”

“yeah, of course,” logan nods, putting a hand on the small of her back. “your room?”

she nods with a small smile, then picks up her pace. she reaches back for his wrist, making him flinch at the first feel of her skin he’s gotten in the longest time. but he doesn't pull away, just lets the sliver of skin he can feel past the cuff of his fireproofs warm him up.

she rushes up the stairs leading up to the door of her racing home, head hung low as they navigate an all too familiar route. a route he hasn’t taken all week, but has been wanting to, and coward away from.

they’ve only got 15 minutes to figure this out in one sitting before it’s considered suspicious. they never stay in for too long to avoid suspicions within her team. just like a teenage couple would, they eventually keep the door open to prove that they're definitely not doing anything suspicious inside.

she greets her team principal with a small smile before she disappears into the stairs with logan still letting himself be dragged in by her. she makes a quick sharp turn into her room and closes the door behind her.

she faces the door, her heart racing in her chest and her hands start to sweat at the thought of confrontation over their intense fight. she came straight from toto's office and went to find logan, only to be told by james that he was dragged out by alex a few minutes prior.

she takes a deep breath and turns around and barely has the time to process just how much she's missed her boyfriend because she's being pulled into his arms in a tight hug.

"i'm sorry," logan mutters into her hair, his arms desperately clinging to her smaller frame.

she slowly lifts her arms, wrapping them around his torso to return the tight grip. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean what i said - i'm sorry."

"no, you're right. it's not my fault that i can't deliver for races. i shouldn't have taken it out on you," logan sighs, pulling away. "it's- oh, please don't cry."

"i'm sorry," she repeats, starting to heave heavily out of guilt. just the sheer thought that breaking up might have been the only way has been eating at her all day. "logan, i-"

"please don't cry," logan whispers, his lips pressing as a knot forms on his forehead. great. now they're both crying. his thumbs swipe over both her cheeks in an attempt to dry her tears but the new ones just keep undoing his efforts. "you can cry but don't make me cry. only one of us can cry at a time."

and then she couldn't hold it in anymore. she breaks into a louder cry. "i'm sorry i thought breaking up was the only way out of this. i'm sorry - i just didn't see how we could have moved past something as big as what we were fighting about. i love you, logan, but i didn't know what else i could do. i'm sorry."

suddenly it felt like someone had thrown a knife directly into his chest. the entire week, the thought that she might have considered breaking up with him came up many times. he was good at keeping those thoughts at bay, but hearing it directly from her lips just felt different.

it hurt differently when it came from the person you think is your soulmate.

"oh."

she stifled a sob when he straightened his back and dropped his hands from her cheeks. "i didn't know what to do. i'm sorry. i didn't know how long more we could go on walking on eggshells every race we would have. i hated hurting you like that every weekend. i hated seeing you force smiles, laughter and neverminds just to accommodate to me.

"i," she cuts herself off, forcing herself to swallow the sob that's bubbled up from the deepest part of her chest. she tries to blink her tears away, but it falls anyway. she turns away from him momentarily to wipe it away on the cuff of her fireproof. "i couldn't keep doing that to you."

"you," logan sighs, throwing his head back, palms covering his eyes. "you really think that i care about any of that? i contemplated; i told you, two years ago every single outcome our relationship could have on us! you knew this was bound to happen and now you're telling me you thought about ending it over this?"

"because i saw the way you would look at me every weekend! you didn't look at me the way you did in singapore when i was up on that podium when we were in bahrain at the start of the year. you can say you love me and that you're happy for me, but i can tell!"

"tell what?"

"i can tell that however much you loved me wasn't going to be enough for you to push away the growing feeling of-" she sighs, and tears her eyes away from him. she settles for the teddy bear sitting on her bean bag. she presses her lips together, jaw locking as she hates herself for what she's about to say. "of eventually hating me."

"why would you ever think that i could grow to hate you?" logan rubs his face roughly, then runs his hands through his hair. "i- god, i'm so in love with you! i was - i am - happy for you, but i could also see the pity in your eyes every weekend that i would finish behind you! you're sorry for me! i don't need that from you - everybody already always looks at me that way."

"because i know you on the track! i've raced against you my entire career - i know what you're capable of!"

"then why do you keep looking at me like i'm always just going to crash out every race?"

"i want to see you succeed! i hate seeing you like this! i hate having to go everywhere and watch and listen and look at people speaking about you like this! you're nothing like what they say!"

"i don't need your pity! i need you to be my girlfriend - i put you above what happens on a race weekend. if you succeed, then you succeed and then you can go and celebrate! but i never minimised any of your achievements just because my race went haywire. if i crash out and you've somehow managed to break a record, that's okay! it's doesn't fucking matter, because your achievements obviously mean the entire world more than that.

"stop trying to think of what i will feel when you succeed. i'm your boyfriend - i am always going to be happy for you. separate our results from our relationship. if you keep letting it get in the way, this will never work."

she straightens her back and snaps her head to him. "you want to break up with me?"

"no," logan sighs, shaking his head tiredly. he takes a step forward, her eyes dropping to his feet then lifting it to meet his eyes. "i don't want to break up with you, i'm just- i didn't speak to you very nicely before we left for vegas. i think i didn't word myself appropriately and i'm sorry."

"you were right about some points, honestly, it doesn't-"

"i didn't mean to blame you for the way i was feeling, and neither was it my intention to back you into a corner because i couldn't get a grip in an f1 car. it's not right."

"but, logan-"

"stop trying to take care of me and my feelings. i promise i always literally get over it when i see your team throwing you around when you make history."

"that's not fair," she says softly, leaning into his touch when he lifts his hand to cup her cheek. "you can feel feelings too. i don't want you to deprive yourself of that."

"i can be sad about it another day that doesn't interfere with you. it doesn't matter what i'm feeling retiring from a race when you never fail to deliver results."

"that doesn't solve my problem, logan. i don't want you to hate me."

"i'm never going to hate you," he laughs softly, throwing his arms around her for another embrace. "why would you ever think that?"

"because i've seen this happen to friends in the same field. one succeeds more than the other, and the latter can't cope. it almost always ends up falling apart."

"emphasis on 'friends'," logan smiles slightly, bending down to meet her at her height. "you're my girlfriend. we're always going to have to find ways around shit like this. we knew that when we started dating. right?"

"yeah? but it just doesn't sound like a solution i'll be okay with."

"i promise i'm trying to get better so i can redeem that one deal we made in bahrain at the start of the year."

"god, logan! you're disgusting!" her hand comes down to land a smack on his shoulder.

he bursts out laughing and leans down again to make their noses touch. "we're going to be okay."

"really?" she grins shyly, her hand resting above the back of his hand that's pressed up against her cheek. "you really think we'll be okay even if we're in f1 for the rest of our lives?"

"i know so. i know that because my mama didn't raise no quitter - i'm never leaving you."

"why'd you have to ruin it?"

"it was getting too sappy."

"maybe i preferred you guys when you were fighting," max scoffs, walking away from the seat he's just been evicted from. "you were able to act like two normal human beings."

"everything about this week is normal!" george cries, shaking his head. "she wore sunglasses indoors after making fun of me for it! how is that fair?"

"i literally told you i'm sitting next to logan," the younger driver states, glaring at max. "you went and sat next to him anyway. you did this to yourself."

"we're in america - it's called first come first serve."

"i literally don't think that's how it works," alex sighs, turning to look at max. "be better, max."

"trust me, i'm trying."

kidy/n

liked by logansargeant, blythe.yln and 73,482 others

kidy/n guys we’re still friends i promise i just can’t stand him when he makes me go fish with him because huh

view 13 comments…

comments on this post have been limited.

logansargeant no cuz why did u post this

logansargeant i thought you were joking

kidy/n learn to take me seriously every once in a while idk

oscarpiastri appropriate picture to end the us races imo

sebastianvettel ?

yukitsunoda0511 i’ll go fishing with u logan :/

lilyzneimer i’m going to have to disagree on this y/n

kidy/n please say jk right now i know you’re not defending this fish murderer

georgerussell63 hahahahahahahaha

kidy/n ?

williamsracing can we borrow these pics? asking for a friend

kidy/n merch with these photos?

williamsracing we’ll deliver it straight to your doorstep

logansargeant ???

@littlesatanicassholebitch @what-is-happening-helpp @myxticmoon @gentlyweeps-world @nerdfromanotherworld @n7ytiri @alliesreblogs

#quite the write #u dont understand #it took me 2 hours writing logan and femdriver's scene alone #wtffff #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #female driver #fem!driver #f1 female driver #f1 x you #f1 #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke ial

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harmonictechnicality · 2 years ago

Text

Eddie’s Memory Log Day 1:

part 2 here | part 3 here | part 4 here | part 5 here | part 6 here

(ao3 link here)

The only reason Steve volunteers to keep a journal to track Eddie Munson’s skim-milk memories, is because of the twerps.

They have school, they can’t commute to the government-protected hospital that’s all the way in the city. That, and they gave Steve this well-rehearsed, tearjerker performance about how grateful they would be.

About how grateful Eddie would be.

Pfft like shit on a stick, he’ll be grateful. The dude doesn’t even remember how old he is, how the hell is supposed to be grateful for Steve Harrington jotting down notes in binder?

But those kids have been through Spielberg-level disaster shit. Steve has too, but they’re just kids.

So he’ll do it. He’ll do it for them and only them.

Eddie knows his name today.

He’s pissy - he’s always pissy cause Eddie is battered up beyond belief. But still, he’s extra pissy today because Dustin is his favorite visitor and he hasn’t stopped by in almost a week.

Eddie knows Dustin’s name today too.

And guess who’s his least favorite visitor?

“Harrington.” Eddie grumbles, mouth full of lime jello. “Who paid you to be here today?”

Remembers Steve’s name… last name.

“No one.” Steve makes himself comfy in the vinyl armchair. “Call me crazy, but I’m not too big on taking lunch money from sophomores.”

Speaking of which…

“Do you know you know how old you are?”

Eddie crumples the plastic jello container. “You’re a patronizing sack of shit.”

Steve rolls his eyes, starts to write down:

Eddie doesn’t know his age.

“Twenty.”

Eddie does know his age (20).

“Swell.” Steve fakes his amusement. The kids are much better at cheerleading Eddie along in this process. But Steve’s poker face is nonexistent. Sarcasm and assholery occupy every seat in his brain these days.

They go through a few more questions before Eddie begins to get tired. He’s tired a lot, even though the coma knocked him out for almost four months.

Guess holding hands with Death really takes it out of a person.

Eddie doesn’t know his birthday.

But Eddie does remember it’s in the winter (has a memory of seeing leafless trees from an early childhood birthday party).

Eddie remembers his uncle’s name.

Eddie doesn’t remember which street he lives on.

Eddie has a headache (that’s not a memory thing - he’s just told Steve a thousand times now).

“I’ll let you rest.” Steve folds the binder shut, sort of desperate to do anything to get Eddie to stop whining. Seriously, he thought this guy was funnier pre-bat attack.

Eddie doesn’t remember he has a sense of humor.

“You don’t have to stay, you know.” Eddie settles into his pillows.

Steve shrugs, puts his hands behind his head. “I took the bus from Hawkins today. The next one doesn’t leave for another few hours.”

“Still… it’s a city, right? You can go explore or whatever. Be a tourist.”

Yeah Eddie’s persuasive skills aren’t completely back either, it’s all very half-assed.

“Been here before.” Steve lounges deeper into the squeaky chair material. “I’m good.”

“Probably haven’t seen everything is all I’m saying -”

“Do you want me to leave that bad?”

Steve doesn’t shout, but his tone takes up space. Makes the room feel crowded with accusations and cutthroat honesty.

Eddie stares back hard. Sometimes, he doesn’t look like Eddie Munson - he looks like this war victim with knotted-up hair and sulky brown eyes.

Like a John Doe cadaver - tagging his foot with the possibility of Eddie Munson.

Anyways, that’s how he looks right now as he stares at Steve. Barely Eddie.

“Just. I don’t know you.” That’s a shitty ass comeback for someone with a memory-tank that’s perpetually blinking with the low-engine light on.

Eddie continues with his weak argument. “Were we close enough back home that you’d stay here while I sleep?”

Eddie doesn’t remember Steve ignoring him in high school for four years.

Steve finds no reason to lie. “No. We weren’t close at all.”

“Right.” Eddie nods once. “So why do this? What are you getting out of this?”

This is a complicated situation to explain to anyone, let alone to someone with fuzzy comprehension abilities. But Steve gives it a whirl:

“Look, we have mutual friends that are… younger. Dustin’s age. And whether I like it or not, they’re like siblings to me now - I’d do anything for them. But they’re in school, they can’t be here every day like I can.”

“Why can you be here?” Eddie asks.

“I lost my job.”

Eddie attempts sympathy. “Sorry.”

Eh, Steve gives him a B-minus.

“Didn’t like it anyways.” Steve reassure him plainly. “The point, I’m doing this for them. For you too, but they’re the anchors in this.”

Eddie thinks for a moment - readjusts to laying on his side, facing Steve. “Won’t you need a new job eventually?”

“Nah. Trust Fund Baby.” Steve points both thumbs at his chest.

“Yeesh.” Eddie rolls to the other side, away from Steve. Disgusted by his comment, yet still chuckling very quietly.

Okay… Eddie does remember he has a sense of humor (just a teensy bit).

His breathing becomes long and hard - sleep heavy breathing. It doesn’t take long, sleep seems more natural to Eddie right now than being awake.

Steve watches him for a moment. There’s always the ghostly-distant fear that Eddie might stop breathing. He’s done it before - four months ago and once more while he was still at the hospital in Hawkins.

Max is still asleep. Steve hates thinking about that detail because it’s cruel. This twisted game that the universe is playing is truly unjust.

Like an Almighty Asshole rolled Eddie’s stupid dice and decided, ‘I’ll let one of your friends wake up, but he won’t remember that he battled along side you in the trenches of darkness. Take it or leave it, douchebag.’

Steve will take it.

Eddie is still sleeping when Steve decides to head out - the bus will be arriving soon and he’s gotta get a window seat. Needs control over the window cause he gets carsick way too fucking easily these days.

“Heading out?” Eddie mumbles, eyes not even open.

“Yeah - sorry.” Steve doesn’t know why he whispered that. “Didn’t think I should wake you.”

“I gotcha. I’m assuming you’ll be back tomorrow?”

Huh… Steve thinks there might be a hint of implication that Eddie wants him to come back tomorrow. Interesting.

“Your memory isn’t as shitty as you think it is.” He’s overly smug when he says it.

Eddie gives him a closed-lip smile. Only Dustin and Wayne receive those.

“Want me to pick up some food on my way in?” Steve decides to give generosity a try, since Eddie is tolerable enough to give him a smile. “Get you off of this lousy hospital meal-plan temporarily?”

The smile is gone. “Nah, you don’t have to do that.”

Right.

Eddie definitely remembers how to be Stubborn with a capital ‘S’

But Steve is a Trust Fund Baby, so he’s unfazed with difficult behaviors. He can match difficulties all damn day if he wanted to.

Which he does.

“Suit yourself, Munson.” Steve acts so uncaring. Very uppity and douchey. “I’m thinking Chinese takeout for me personally.”

“Cool.”

“Cool. See you tomorrow then.”

There’s a pause, so Steve takes that as his sign to turn the handle, get the hell out of here.

“Steve?” Eddie calls weakly just before he shuts the door behind him.

He cracks it open, peeks his face back in. “Yeah?”

Eddie sighs. “Kung Pao Chicken.”

“Excellent choice.”

Eddie gives him another closed-lip smile.

Steve grins wildly, with all of his teeth. “In fact, I think I’ll do the same.”

And as Steve claims his middle seat on the bus, he pulls the binder back out of his backpack to add one more note for the day:

Eddie remembers that he likes Kung Pao Chicken.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #post s4 au #trying to decide if I should make this a thing or not #I’m not even sure if this is any good so please ignore if it is incoherent #my mind is being cruel today so if it’s bad pretend it never happened 🙂

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acesofspadess · 9 months ago

Text

Rewind

I definitely published this a bit out of order but bare with me

“Hello Team Niall.” Niall introduced as they all waved and greeted him back. “Well, I've got a bit of news for you. Because of my concert schedule, I actually won't be in town for knockout rehearsals.” Everyone was shocked… and rightfully so. “Because I won't be there, I've chosen another coach to come in and mentor you guys for rehearsal.” Everyone started to freak out wondering who on earth it might be.

“And they have been in your place before so I think they’ve got exactly what you need.”

The scene changed to the all too familiar practice room with an empty directors chairs. The sounds of steps progressively got louder until the special person appeared.

“I'M BACK!”

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's rewind a bit.

~~~~~~

A day or two after The Voice Finale

“Hi I’m Maia Quinn, and I'm the Season 23 winner of The Voice, and we're hanging out with Rob on Front Row Live.”

“Go with me.” Niall moaned into your mouth as you straddled him. “Where?” you question kissing down his neck. “Boston. I know it's last minute and we’d leave in the morning-” you shut him up with a kiss and a roll of your hips, his hands tightening against your thighs. “Just wake me up an hour before we leave.”

Sitting at the desk of you and Niall’s shared hotel room the morning of May 26th you had early interviews to get through before you were meant to go to the festival. You looked over the camera to see Niall already looking at you.

“Maia congratulations. What a night you had a few nights ago.” Rob praised and you smiled adjusting your airpod. “I am super excited for you and your career and your future. Especially because you're starting so young. You have enough time to kind of like, continue to evolve, and understand your voice; learn a lot more about yourself throughout this process. Talk to me about this process of your experience here on the voice and how you've evolved as a vocalist and a performer.” The interview was more than you could ever imagine.

“Now your relationship with Niall this season has had fans going crazy. From the after performance hugs to the duet, and the after party, what can you tell us about that?”

You saw Nialls face peak over the laptop screen and stayed neutral. “Niall has been the most supportive and very encouraging. He has become one of my best friends through this whole journey. I lost a lot of my confidence during the pandemic unfortunately. It made me think that I would never be able to do things that I certainly could do and Niall- all these years later- has been there to remind me that I probably can do them, and then make me do it. So our friendship and relationship has been so important to me. He is my best friend across the charts and he’d hate me for saying this, but I wouldn't be here without him.”

“Last question before we go. Is there anything we can look forward to seeing soon? Maybe another EP?”

You smiled glad you were able to share some information on what was coming next. “All I'll say now is, look for me on stage back home.” you winked dramatically knowing those who would get it would get it.”

“That's amazing, I'll definitely keep my eyes peeled. It was so great having you on. I hope to see you in person soon.”

“Bye!”

``````````````

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User10 i'm actually really happy she won

User2 wait…Slane is in Ireland…..

User6 I just learned she had an EP…. what?!?!?!?

Being at Boston Calling with him

“Boston, Massachusetts, how you doing?” he asked the crowd after he finished ‘Heaven’. The loud response made him smile excitedly. “Holy shit! This is crazy.” you face palmed knowing he was going to slip up sooner or later. “Thank you all so much for coming out to see me. I really appreciate it.” they cheered again as he sipped his water. You watched as he looked at the amount of people and a smile formed on your face.

“This is uhm- this is actually my first ever Festival.” he let out a breath at the realisation. “I've definitely been drunk at a few.” you laughed at him with the rest of the crowd. “But I've never played at any and for that reason I'm absolutely shitting myself.” he said looking at you knowing you would calm him, and him seeing you laugh did just the trick.

“But thank you for being here. I know some of you guys have been queuing for years.” he looked around at the signs “My girlfriend showed me this earlier ‘i travelled four thousand miles to be here from Brazil’ your eyes went wide at the declaration and the deafening screams were present. He subtly looked in your direction and saw your reaction, his worry diminished as he saw you smiling making him smile. “Makes you feel bad from coming just down the road doesn't it? ‘I came from round New York’.” he mocked, “awe who cares.” he laughed with them and you hid a big smile behind your hands.

~~~~

You walked the same route you came flashing your pass when you reached the gate and made your way in to see Niall. When you saw him you squealed and ran over to him. He turned when he heard you and caught you in his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he spun you both around hands on the swell of your bum.

“I'm so proud of you!” you screamed and he laughed before he was kissing you passionately. It was quick as many more pecks through giggles followed. “I can not explain to you how happy i am.” he whispered in shock as you were sitting in the trailer behind the stage and he was getting changed. “You should be so happy, my love. That was incredible, and I am so so proud of you.” he smiled at you before grabbing your hand and kissing the ring on it. “You make me so happy, baby girl.” you melted at his words and stood up to kiss him softly. “And you make me the happiest girl, Ni.”

You surprising Niall at his Zane Lowe interview and him outing you

You knew Niall was disappointed when you told him you wouldn't be able to make it to his Zane Lowe interview today. He was really excited for this one and wanted you to be there. It was only a few days later that you flew from Boston down to LA for the interview. You were working on last minute stuff for the announcement today and you were nowhere close to done when he was getting ready to leave.

“I'm sorry love.” you kissed his pout away as you both stood by the door of his LA house. “I know, it’s okay. I know why you can’t make it, and for that I am so very proud.” he melted his lips against yours as your hands went to the curls on the back of his neck and he wrapped his went straight to your bum.

~~~

Niall was watching Zane play his songs and the guitar with a big smile a few hours after he left. “There are some pretty songs on this record bro.” Zane complimented as he switched playing from ‘The Show’ to ‘You could start a cult’. You who had just made it into the studio to surprise Niall were standing behind the glass watching him, waiting for him to notice.

“Thank you very much.'' He cut through Zanes music. “This one kills me.” Zane admitted as Niall caught on to what he was playing. “Yeah.” he cheered Zane on softly, finally noticing you. You saw his smile widened and you waved softly. “You Could Start A Cult.” he named distractedly, still looking at you as if he looked away you would disappear.

~~~

“Kingdoms fighting over you,” Niall continued. “I think that like they’re the ones- that could have very easily been, ‘ i like waking up beside you and you're my favourite person.” he joked easily. “But ‘you could start a war’.” you shook your head at his lyrical genius. “Do you ever crack yourself up with it?”

‘Yeah it was something silly at first but now everyone's obsessed with it. It started with me and my girlfriend now, when we met we would watch crime shows together over facetime,” he exposed and you chuckled at his laugh.

‘You say girlfriend now, sorry if i'm over stepping but..” zane trailed off

“No,” he shrugged off looking at you, who nodded, “she was not my girlfriend at the time, she is now, is what that meant.”

“So did she not know the song was for her?”

“She didn't know any song was for her- or about her I should say. The road from when we met to now has been a very dark windy tunnel, but we made it to the other end.”

“That's beautiful Niall, truly.” You smiled at him agreeing with Zane.

“This was the last song on the record that we wrote.” Niall confessed, and you wondered why. “Why, what was missing?” and without hesitation he pointed to you, “her.” Zane looked to where he was pointing and you waved happily at him. He waved back to you just as happy before turning to Niall with a face of shock. “No?” he gasped and Niall laughed, throwing his head back. “Yeah, I know. Way out of my league.” he watched you shake your head with an eye roll and he couldn't stop the smile from gracing his face.

“I could’ve gone and did what I did with the rest of the record and put BV’s all over it and strings and that was my plan - and John just said to me- because we we were not talking at the time…” he pointed between you and him, “...this is your message to,” he paused, ‘“ her’ keep it that way. Just you and your guitar and your feelings.”

And while there's much much more… you’ll see that soon

#nialler #cute niall #niall horan x reader #niall horan fluff #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan #niall horan smut #niall fanfic #niall one shot #one direction #solo niall #niall 1d #niall james horan #niall horan fic #niall the show #niall horan x y/n #niall imagine #niall horan x you #the show 2024

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orangesaek · 2 years ago

Note

phone or video sex with mark please? where he’s been on tour and calls reader when he misses her

hi! thank you so much your request 💚 i hope you see this and tell me if you enjoyed it as much as i made it ♡ this was honestly a bit challenging to write — it's so difficult to keep myself from feeling so turned on by kinky mark 🥹

genre: smut, a little bit of fluff

pairings: mark x female reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mentions of: porn, sex, masturbating, fingering, cum, kinky stuff, cussing, horny couple lol

a/n: lowercase intended, slightly proofread. also, i'm not adding "fluff" in the tags since this is 98% smut lol

⚠️ MINORS, PLEASE SCROLL AWAY! ⚠️

mark kept tossing and turning in his hotel bed, feeling quite relieved that he and jaehyun were sleeping on separate beds. otherwise, he would have definitely woken the latter up already from his restlessness.

it had already been 2 weeks since the group started their world tour, and they still have a few stops left for the month.

and that means it had already been 2 weeks since the last time you and mark had sex, which also means that he hasn't touched himself since then.

mark never thought he would become addicted to sex until the two of you started dating.

you were just so amazing in bed to the point he stopped relying on porn to jack off, and just imagines fucking the life out of you to do the trick.

he was just blankly staring at the ceiling before he raised his left arm to check the time on his watch. mark heaved a deep sigh after realizing that he only had a few hours left to sleep before they need to wake up for the rehearsals.

"she might be in the middle of work right now..." he mumbled to himself, staring at the ceiling again. this was definitely one of those nights he missed your touch the most.

ever since the two of you started dating, mark has come to love the kinkier side of sex. sure, he enjoyed the slow, more intimate kind, but he has come to enjoy the hard fucks more, bdsm, the quickies, and a lot more — all because of you.

mark dimmed the table lamp and grabbed his phone from the bedside, thinking he could just watch porn at this point instead of disturbing you at work.

he looked over at jaehyun, whose back was facing him before opening his phone's browser in incognito and typed in his favorite go-to porn site. mark heaved another sigh after scrolling through pages of videos, trying to find something to jack off to but failing. nothing really caught his eye enough to get a boner.

mark closed his browser and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. thinking naughty things about you might help him get off, but it had been 2 weeks since he has seen and touched your body that he just felt the absolute need to actually see it again.

"i guess i can try..." he quietly said to himself again before opening your chat thread and quickly sending a 'hey sexy. i miss you sooo so bad :('.

mark closed his eyes, phone held tightly on his chest as he anxiously waited for your reply.

not even a minute later, a buzz on his phone signalled a new text. mark hastily opened the notification before smiling to himself, biting his lower lip in the process.

"hey pretty boy ;) i miss you, too :* but why are you still up?" you replied before sending a follow-up message, "isn't it, like, 2 a.m. over there?"

"yeah, can't sleep, baby :( i wish you were here :(" mark replied almost immediately, a follow-up message coming right after, "are you busy at work right now?"

a smirk fell on your lips after reading mark's follow-up message. you definitely knew what he wanted at that moment, as it wasn't the first time he has texted you like this when he was on tour (and when he was supposed to be sleeping).

mark's heart started beating faster in excitement after reading your reply, "i got you, baby ;* will call you in 10 minutes 👅"

he jumped out of his bed and dashed to the bathroom, quickly locking the door and making his way to the large bathtub. he got inside it and patiently waited for your call.

after sending your reply, you excused yourself from the ongoing seminar, informing your manager that you just had a really bad stomachache and will be heading to the infirmary for some medicine.

of course, that was all a lie.

as soon as you stepped out of the conference room, you ran as fast as you could to the elevator and went down to the parking lot. you got into the back seat of your car, quickly stripping off your clothes and your underwear.

the frequent car sex you had with mark was the reason why you have decided to invest in a really good dark tint for your car.

"hey, pretty boy," you greeted on the other line as soon as he picked up, voice already sounding so seductive for him. he bit his lower lip in a smirk and chuckled lowly, feeling the tingling sensation down his cock.

"hi, sexy." he said. "how are you?"

"not really feeling all too well... i want to see you,"

mark quickly requested for a video call with you, fixing his hair a little bit as he waited for you to accept it.

you quickly secured your phone on your car's phone holder before accepting his video call request.

"holy shit!" mark blurted in surprise as soon as you came into view. you were seated at the backseat, completely naked.

"you like what you see, baby?" you purred, cupping one of your breasts in one hand before playing with your nipple and dangling both of your legs on the sides of the seats infront, allowing mark to see the thing he's been craving for the past 2 weeks — your pussy.

mark could only gulp in response, feeling his boner growing by the second.

"let me see you, babe." you said, letting out a quiet moan as you used your free hand to lightly massage your clit.

"m-mark... baby..." you moaned in pleasure. "feels so... good..."

"fuck," mark grunted, positioning his phone in front of him and letting it lean on the bathroom tiles for support. he then shimmied out of his boxers in a hurry, with his hard cock springing out in full view.

you let out a gasp at the view of his big, hard cock. oh how you've missed it so much.

"fuck, baby. i want to suck your cock so bad right now," you moaned, still touching your now-wet pussy.

"oh yeah?" mark said, lips slightly parted as he started pumping his cock slowly, his eyes focused on your body. "i miss seeing you choke on my cock, baby."

"f-fuck," you moaned some more, turned on by the memory of deepthroating mark and how he would hold onto your hair to fuck your mouth until he cums.

"suck your nipple for me, angel." mark said. he let out a moan, increasing his pace as soon as you cupped your other breast higher and brought it to your mouth, licking and sucking on your nipple.

"fuck," he growls. "you're so hot."

you stopped playing with your nipple and used both of your hands to part the lips of your pussy, letting mark see its pink flesh. mark moaned again in pleasure, remembering how he'd hungrily eat it and how addicting its taste was for him.

"two... fingers..." mark said breathlessly as he pumped even faster, his eyes focused hazily on your pussy.

you adjusted yourself for mark to get a better view of you before placing two fingers on your clit, lightly massaging it, and the other two at the entrance.

"lift your shirt, baby. i want to see your nipples," you said, biting your bottom lip at the pleasure from your clit. hearing mark moan whenever you'd lick, suck and softly bite on his nipples was one of the things that turned you on, and for mark, it was one of things he never thought he would find so hot for a girl to do.

mark took off his shirt and threw it somewhere in the bathroom before spitting in his hand and pumping his hard cock again. you licked your lips at the sight of mark's fully naked body.

still massaging your clit, you licked your other hand's middle and ring finger and sucked on them seductively, moaning in the process.

"ahhh, fuck," mark groaned as his head lolled back in pleasure.

you let out a long moan as soon as you inserted your fingers into your pussy, slowly pumping it in and out, and massaging your clit at the same time.

"fuck, fuck," mark hissed, pumping faster, eyes rolling at the back of his head.

"hmm," you moaned, feeling so turned on by mark's reaction. you pumped your fingers in and out faster, now aggressively rubbing your clit.

"babe... your c-cock..." you said in between breaths, feeling your juice dripping. "want... it..."

"fuck, babe..." mark let out another groan, feeling another tingling sensation in his cock. "i-i'm g-gonna... cum..."

having been with mark for a while now, you have come to learn the things that drove him crazy in bed. and one of those things is when you would suck on your nipple as you fingered your pussy, which was exactly what you did at that moment.

"shit, i'm cumm—fuck!" mark grunted as he pumped even faster, his head lolled back again and eyes closed tigtly as he heard you moaning loudly on the call.

"m-mark... fuck, i'm cumming!" you said, your own eyes closed as you quickened your pace and pinched your nipple hard, the sensation driving you crazy.

"fuckfuckfuckfuc—shit!" mark hissed when he finally reached his high, his cum dripping all over his beaten cock. he heard you moaning quietly and chuckled tiredly.

"did you cum, babe?" he asked, panting. you could only hum in response, still catching your breath.

"i love you so much, baby," he said. "i love you, and i miss you so much."

you chuckled in response before giving him a tired smile, "i love you, too, mark. so, so much. and i miss you."

after catching up for a bit (while quickly putting on your clothes again and fixing yourself, mark did the same and cleaned the tub), the two of you ended the call with a promise from mark that he'll take you out on a fun date once he comes home from tour.

mark jumped up in suprise as soon as he opened the door to the bathroom, his face drained of color.

"i just hope there's no residue on the tub, bro." jaehyun said as he patted mark's shoulder with a knowing grin on his face before walking past him into the bathroom.

- end.

requests are OPEN! feel free to send in an ask ♡

oh, and HAPPY NEW YEAR! i wish for whatever everyone's been manifesting to fall into place this year ✨️

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hotdaemondtargaryen · 5 months ago

Text

EWAN MITCHELL IN CONVERSATION WITH EMMA D'ARCY FOR HERO MAGAZINE.

EMMA D'ARCY: — WHERE ARE YOU? ARE YOU IN AMERICA?

EWAN MITCHELL: NO, BUT I WAS SHOOT IN NEW YORK. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN?

ED: YEAH, I DID THE CRUCIBLE THERE [AT THE YARD THEATRE IN 2019] AND WE GOT A GREYHOUND TO SALEM, THEY'RE REALLY INTO THE OCCULT THERE. — WHAT ARE YOU UP TO AT THE MOMENT?

EM: I'M SUFFERING SEVERE JET LAG FROM NEW YORK, BUT I LOVED IT. I LIKE THE AMBIENCE, THE PEOPLE, THE FOOD. I LOVE HOW EVERYONE SAYS, 'I GOT YA.' — WHAT ABOUT YOU?

ED: I'VE JUST DONE A WEEK OF REHEARSALS BUT I'VE HAD A NICE BIT OF TIME NOT DOING ANYTHING PRIOR TO THAT.

EM: THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM.

ED: I'D BE QUITE HAPPY TO DO NOTHING FOR A REALLY LONG TIME. I FIND IT INCREDIBLY INTERESTING TO DO ALMOST NOTHING AT ALL. I DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH OF A PROBLEM THAT'S GOING TO BE FOR MY CAREER GOING FORWARD, BUT IT'S BEEN NICE. [LAUGHS]

EM: I HAVE TO STAY BUSY WHEN I'M NOT WORKING.

ED: YEAH BUT YOU'RE YOUNG, I'VE CROSSED THE BOUNDARY INTO A DIFFERENT TYPE OF LIFE.

EM: NO WAY.

ED: I DON'T MEAN IT IN A BAD WAT EITHER, IT'S ACTUALLY SO CRAZY. FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER I'M QUESTIONING, 'WHAT DO I WANT MY LIFE TO LOOK LIKE?' IT'S NOT A QUESTION I HAD EVER ASKED BEFORE — IT'S COOL. I THINK MAYBE IT COMES WITH A REALISATION THAT THIS IS IN FACT YOUR LIFE.

EM: OH WOW, WHAT AGE WILL IT HIT ME?

ED: HOW OLD ARE YOU?

EM: I'M 26.

ED: YOU'VE PROBABLY GOT FOUR OR FIVE YEARS. [LAUGHS]

EM: WHEN I'M NOT WORKING I DO HAVE TO KEEP BUSY. I DON'T KNOW HOW IT IS FOR YOU, BUT I HAVE TO ADOPT A KIND OF SLEEPER AGENT LIFESTYLE, I HAVE CREATE A ROUTINE. I BOX EVERY OTHER DAY AND KEEP MY MIND BUSY. I THINK MY MATES KNOW I COME WITH A DISCLAIMER THAT IF ANYTHING COMES UP, THEN I'M DROPPING EVERYTHING FOR WORK — I JUST LOVE IT.

ED: WHAT YOU DESCRIBE IS A STATE OF PERPETUALLY LEAVING.

EM: EVERYTHING I DO ALWAYS RELATES TO ACTING WEIRDLY, IT HAS TO INFORM MY PROCESS IN SOME WAY, SHAPE OR FORM AND IF IT DOESN'T, IT SWITCHES ME OFF.

ED: — WHAT IS YOUR PROCESS?

EM: I NEVER WENT TO DRAMA SCHOOL SO EVERY JOB I DO IS AN OPPORTUNITY TO HONE IT AND TRY NEW THINGS.

BRUCE LEE SAID, 'ABSORB WHAT IS USEFUL AND DISCARD WHAT IS NOT,' HE WOULD CHERRY-PICK FROM DIFFERENT COMBAT DISCIPLINES AND IN DOING SO FORMED HIS OWN MARTIAL ART.

SIMILAR TO ME, I'M TRYING IT ON THE FLY AND SEEING WHAT STICKS, WHAT DOESN'T, MIXING IT UP FOR DIFFERENT CHARACTERS. AND SO FAR, SO GOOD. — WHAT ABOUT YOU?

ED: I ALSO DIDN'T GO TO DRAMA SCHOOL AND STRUGGLE WHEN DIRECTORS VERY KINDLY ASK, 'HOW CAN I BEST SUPPORT YOUR PROCESS?' I DON'T FEEL PARTICULARLY CLEAR ABOUT WHAT THAT MEANS.

EM: — SO YOU'RE QUITE INSTINCTUAL?

ED: I THINK I'M PART COMPLETELY PRE-MEDITATED AND PART NOT.

I WOULD SAY THAT I HAVE A CONFIDENCE PROBLEM SO I DO A LOT OF PREPARATION, BUT FOR ME PREPARATION IS CONFIDENCE, WHICH ALLOWS ME TO LET GO OF THE PREPARATION ON THE DAY.

WHEREAS, IF I WERE TO COME IN EMPTY-HANDED, MY CONFIDENCE PROBLEM WOULD FLARE UP.

EM: I HAVE TO CONGRATULATE YOU ON YOUR SHORT FILM 'THE TALENT' [EMMA CO-PRODUCED AND STARRED IN THE 2023 BIFA-NOMINATED SHORT], I LOVED IT.

ED: THANK YOU, IT WAS A JOY.

EM: WAS THAT THE FIRST THING YOU'VE PRODUCED?

ED: YEAH, I CO-PRODUCED IT. I WOULDN'T HAVE MANAGED IT ON MY OWN.

EM: I'D LOVE TO DO THAT ONE DAY, IT'S SO COOL.

ED: I'VE LOVED GOING TO FILM FESTIVALS WITH IT BECAUSE IT'S NOT SOMETHING I'D DONE BEFORE, IT'S SUCH A NICE PROCESS. — WOULD YOU LIKE TO DIRECT?

EM: I DON'T KNOW, MAYBE NOT YET. I STILL FEEL LIKE I WANT TO ACT. I LOOK AT WHAT MARGOT ROBBIE HAS DONE WITH LUCKYCHAP [ENTERTAINMENT, ROBBIE'S PRODUCTION COMPANY] AND HOW SHE'S PRODUCED FILMS SHE'S REALLY PASSIONATE ABOUT, FILMS YOU THINK CAN CHANGE THE INDUSTRY IN SOME WAY. I'D LOVE TO DO THAT. GROWING UP, THERE WERE THE FILMS I REALLY ENJOYED, NOT THE NORMAL LIGHT ENTERTAINMENT ONES, BUT THAT EXPANDED MY UNDERSTANDING AND CHALLENGED ME. THOSE FILMS ARE THE ONES I WANT TO BE A PART OF IN SOME WAY, SHAPE OR FORM. IF NOT ACTING, I GUESS IT WOULD PRODUCING. — HOW LONG WAS THE PROCESS FROM START TO FINISH?

ED: PROBABLY AROUND A YEAR FROM THE SCRIPT NOT EXISTING, BUT IN A MORE STRUCTURED WAY, MAYBE A PRE-PRODUCTION OF FIVE MONTHS. I DON'T REALLY KNOW WHY I ASKED YOU IF YOU WANTED TO DIRECT BECAUSE EVERYONE ALWAYS SAYS THAT AND I FEEL LIKE INHERENT IN THE QUESTION IS THAT CULTURALLY, WE PRIVILEGE THE IDEA OF THE PRIMARY ARTIST. IF YOU'RE AN INTERPRETATIVE SECONDARY ARTIST, WE DON'T CREDIT THAT IN QUITE THE SAME WAY, BUT I DON'T AGREE WITH THAT VIEW. I DON'T WANT TO DIRECT BUT REALLY LIKE PRODUCING AND FEEL VERY CONFIDENT IN MY SECONDARY ARTIST STATUS.

EM: I FEEL LIKE THAT WITH BOXING, IF I EVER WENT INTO AMATEUR THERE ARE A LOT OF OTHER HUNGRY UP-AND-COMING BOXERS AND IT'S JUST NOT MY GAME, I'M NOT AS INSPIRED BY THAT AS I AM BY ACTING. I DON'T WANT TO BREAK MY NOSE AND GET KNOCKED OUT.

ED: IF YOU'RE BOXING A LOT, HOW DO YOU ENSURE THAT YOUR NOSE DOESN'T GET BROKEN?

EM: WE KEEP IT LIGHT AND IT'S USUALLY JUST PADS, IF I HAVE TO WEAR A HEAD GUARD I WILL DO, BUT SAFETY PRECAUTIONS ARE IN PLACE. [LAUGHS] — DO YOU BOX?

ED: I DON'T, BUT A FRIEND OF MINE TOOK PART IN A QUEER CHARITY BOXING EVENT AND I WAS SURPRISED BY HOW VISCERALLY TERRIBLE I FOUND IT TO WATCH THEM FIGHT.

EM: DID YOU NOT WANT TO GET IN THERE AND JOIN THEM?

ED: I SUDDENLY FELT SO WILDLY HELPLESS AND ALL I COULD DO WAS SCREAM FROM A PLACE OF WANTING TO PROTECT AND SUPPORT BUT ALSO FROM A PLACE OF FEAR. MY FRIEND DID BEAUTIFULLY AND THEY'RE AMAZING, BUT I'D NEVER BEEN IN THAT ENVIRONMENT BEFORE AND WHEN IT CAME TO IT I COULDN'T HANDLE IT. — HOW DID YOU GET INTO ACTING?

EM: I ALWAYS WANTED TO DO IT BUT I'M NOT TOO SURE WHERE IT CAME FROM. I HEARD ABOUT THE TELEVISION WORKSHOP IN NOTTINGHAM AND APPLIED THE FIRST YEAR BUT DIDN'T GET IN. FOR THE SECOND YEAR, I HAD THIS LITTLE NOTEBOOK THAT I WOULD JOT DOWN IN BECAUSE I KNEW THE STRUCTURE OF THE PROCESS OF THE AUDITION. I CAME UP WITH ALL OF THESE NEAT LITTLE QUIPS I COULD USE. I GOT IN THE SECOND TIME, THEN FROM THE WORKSHOP I DID A SHORT FILM CALLED 'FIRE' DIRECTED BY CHRIS ANDREWS. I GOT IT BURNT ONTO CDs AND I GOT ALL THE NAMES OF THE AGENCIES I KNEW OF IN LONDON. I WENT DOWN [TO LONDON] ON THE TRAIN AND POSTED THEM TO ALL OF THE AGENTS.

ED: SIDE NOTE, ARE YOU UNCONSCIOUS YET? I'D SAY I'M STILL SELF-CONSCIOUS IN INTERVIEWS.

EM: I ALWAYS WANT TO FLIP IT ON ITS HEAD AND ASK THE INTERVIEWER QUESTIONS, JUST BECAUSE OF THAT INNATE FEAR THAT IT MIGHT BORDER INTO THERAPY AND YOU MIGHT BE ROBIN WILLIAMS AND I'LL BE MATT DAMON SITTING ON A PARK BENCH IN BOSTON SOMEWHERE AND IT'S GOOD WILL HUNTING.

THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT MYSTERY AS WELL, AND ONCE YOU LOSE THAT MYSTERY YOU CAN'T REALLY GET IT BACK. IF PEOPLE GET TO KNOW THE REAL ME, I DO BELIEVE IT'LL DETRACT FROM WHAT I'M TRYING TO DO AS AN ACTOR. I WANT YOU TO ESCAPE INTO MY CHARACTERS, I DON'T WANT YOU TO SEE EWAN. — HOW ARE YOU WITH INTERVIEWS? I'M SUPER GRATEFUL YOU'VE DONE THIS.

ED: I'VE GOT BETTER, I DON'T MEAN BETTER AS A QUALITY JUDGEMENT, BUT I HAVE BECOME MORE COMFORTABLE. I WAS VERY BAD AT THE BEGINNING, I HAD THIS 'GOOD SCHOOLBOY' WHO CAME OUT AND ACTUALLY, HE COMPLETELY WIPED MY PERSONALITY. HE FEELS THAT IT'S A TEST AND THERE IS A RIGHT ANSWER. I HAVE TO BANISH MY GOOD BOY OTHERWISE I AM VIOLENTLY DULL.

EM: AND THAT'S ME RIGHT NOW, RIGHT? [BOTH LAUGH]

ED: EWAN, GET ON THE CHAISE LONGUE, WE'RE GOING TO TALK. [BOTH LAUGH]

IT IS FRIGHTENING AT THE BEGINNING; I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU FEEL BUT I'M ONLY JUST AT A POINT NOW SINCE THE SHOW CAME OUT THAT I FEEL OK.

EM: REALLY? DID YOU NOT FEEL YOURSELF GETTING WARMED UP THE MORE YOU WERE DOING THAT MASSIVE PRESS RUN FOR SEASON ONE?

ED: NO. [LAUGHS]

I THINK MY GOOD BOY CAME OUT, BUT YOU CAN'T PREDICT THE PARAMETERS OF A CHANGE LIKE THAT IN YOUR LIFE UNTIL IT HAPPENS AND YOU'VE SAT IN IT FOR A WHILE. I FOUND IT QUITE FRIGHTENING [AT FIRST].

EM: YOU'RE WORKING WITH BEN WHISHAW AT THE MOMENT RIGHT?

ED: YEAH.

EM: I READ THAT WHEN HE'S OFF STAGE HE HAS THAT ANXIETY TOO, WATCHING HIS WORK YOU'D NEVER EVEN THINK OF IT. IN 'PASSAGES,' HE'S AMAZING AND EVEN IN THE SMALLER SUPPORTING CHARACTERS TOO.

HE JUST KILLS IT IN ANYTHING HE DOES. I FOUND IT INTERESTING BECAUSE YOU DON'T SEE [ANXIETY] IN HIS PERFORMANCES, WHICH IS INSPIRING.

I DID A COMIC CON IN BRAZIL AND IT WAS SUPER FUN BUT AT THE SAME TIME, I HAD TO BE SOMEONE ELSE. I HAD THIS LEATHER SUIT ON AND IT WAS SO EMPOWERING. I FELT UNSTOPPABLE AND IN THE END I ADOPTED THIS CONFIDENT CHARACTER.

I RECOGNISE I NEED TO BE MORE MYSELF IN THESE SITUATIONS, FOR SURE.

ED: I HONESTLY DON'T KNOW IF THAT'S TRUE, IT DEPENDS ON WHAT YOU WANT TO GIVE AWAY.

EM: I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU AT ALL WHILE SHOOTING SEASON TWO.

ED: — HOW DID THIS SEASON FEEL?

EM: I LOVED IT. I LIKE THAT SEPARATION BETWEEN OUR TWO SIDES OF THE FAMILY BECAUSE WHEN WE DO MEET AGAIN IT'S GOING TO BE SEISMIC. THE FIRST SEASON IT WAS GREAT TO FINALLY SEE THAT CRESCENDO AND NOW SEASON TWO IS THE FALLOUT.

I REALLY CAN'T WAIT FOR YOUR PERFORMANCE, IT'S QUITE NICE NOT KNOWING WHAT'S GOING ON.

ED: I AGREE, AND IT'S NICE HAVING SO MUCH TO WATCH THAT YOU HAVEN'T SEEN. I HAVE A WHOLE HALF OF THE SHOW THAT I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT. — DO YOU WATCH YOURSELF?

EM: I DO, IT TAKES A GOOD TWELVE OR THIRTEEN TIMES BEFORE I CAN APPRECIATE IT. I FIND IT REALLY DIFFICULT BUT I ALSO RECOGNISE THAT I WANT TO KNOW WHAT WORKS AND WHAT DOESN'T. — DO YOU?

ED: YES, BUT QUITE MINIMALLY. — DO YOU WATCH PLAYBACK ON SET?

EM: — I CAN'T LOOK AT MYSELF, DO YOU?

ED: NO, BUT I GENUINELY THINK IT WOULD BE HELPFUL IF I COULD STOMACH IT. SO MUCH ON SCREEN IS SO TECHNICAL AND BECAUSE SO MANY FACTORS MEDIATE YOUR PERFORMANCE, IT'S REASONABLE THAT THINGS MIGHT NOT COMMUNICATE AS YOU'RE IMAGINING.

BUT THEN I DON'T KNOW WHETHER THAT WOULD BE A DEGREE OF CONTROL THAT IS JUST NOT REAL BECAUSE WE HAVE SO LITTLE CONTROL AND FUNDAMENTALLY THE NARRATIVE WILL BE IN THE EDIT.

EM: — WHAT IS IT LIKE WORKING WITH MATT SMITH?

ED: IT'S GREAT, I LOVE HIM AN EXTRAORDINARY AMOUNT AND FEEL PRIVILEGED WHEN I GET TO WORK WITH HIM. IT'S SO NICE TO KNOW WHAT LIGHTS SOMEONE UP, HE'S SO REACTIVE AND HE RESPONDS BEAUTIFULLY TO NEWNESS, IT'S SUCH A DELIGHTFUL GAME.

EM: I REMEMBER THAT MOMENT IN SEASON ONE EPISODE EIGHT AROUND THE BANQUET TABKE AND AEMOND AND DAEMON HAVE A FACE-OFF, AND IN ONE OF THE TAKES MATT SPOKE IN A MURMUR BUT IT WAS HIGH VALYRIAN. I DID NOTICE THAT QUALITY IN THE LIMITED TIMES I WORKED WITH HIM. THERE IS SOMETHING SPICY ABOUT MIXING IT UP, KEEPING YOU ON YOUR TOES AND IN TURN, YOU PICK UP A FEW MOVES IN THE PROCESS.

ED: IT'S REALLY GOOD. THE GUY'S GOT GREAT TASTE AS WELL, SOMETIMES HE HAS LOVELY IDEAS ABOUT HOW A THING MIGHT PLAY BEST AND AT WHAT SIZE. I GET THE SENSE HE HAS A REALLY VIVID PICTURE IN HIS MIND'S EYE AND THAT'S SO HELPFUL BECAUSE IT REFERS TO THE TECHNICAL PART OF OUR JOB. IT'S A PRIVILEGE TO BE 'LOST IN THE CHARACTER' BUT THERE IS A SPECIFIC TECHNICAL PART OF HOW SOMETHING COMMUNICATES AND I THINK HE IS REALLY GOOD AT THAT.

EM: THAT'S SO INTERESTING. I DO TRY TO TAKE THAT INTO CONSIDERATION WITH FRAME SIZES AND WHAT TO PLAY UP AND PLAY DOWN. IT'S ALL A BIG LEARNING CURVE, ISN'T IT?

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd s2 #tv shows #team green #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond one eye #hero magazine #conversation #emma d'arcy #queen rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd rhaenyra #hotd aemond #actors #hotd cast #interview #team black

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sgiandubh · 11 months ago

Note

So in other words, you agree, Sam and Cait are not very good actors as exemplified by the scene being them and not Beauchamp and Fraser. On that, agreed. She might be a C actor, he's definitely a D

Dear Beauchamp and Fraser Anon,

I suspect you might be a returning one, by the way, hoping to catch me unprepared with a very cheap sophism. Check this concept on Wikipedia if you wish, but I will give you my definition: manipulated or derailed logic, i.e. formally sustainable, but in reality just a fallacy; or, if you prefer, a bunch of crap, just for the sake of it. Also, it would be wise not to try these cheap tricks on someone trained to work with words and doing so every single day: you might find no satisfaction, ultimately.

Fun fact: I don't agree with any single word you just wrote. Sam and Cait are very good and gifted actors. Both of them. They did wonders with a very inconsistent script and under barbaric public pressure. What dragged you in here, Anon? Mrs. Gabaldon's florid, even luxuriant prose? What kept you in here, Anon? Blood and sperm and rape galore? I should wish you were honest, at least for once in your life, and let your answer be 'not really'.

What I meant by that phrase was something very simple: the actors' life experience deeply informing and sublimating their performance. If you think real and creative lives are strictly separate affairs in any intellectual endeavor, then you are probably completely unfamiliar with anything remotely related to writing, singing, playing (an instrument), acting, composing or painting. All these are akin to magic and all of the above are a summoning of sorts: ask any 'content creator', you will probably get a very similar answer. In Cait and Sam's case, their real life story nurtures and elevates their acting, despite people like you.

I am not an actor myself, but a long time ago it was acting that liberated me and taught me to not be afraid of anything. I did not make a living out of it, but I will always have the tools making me able to access that very special energy, any time I should need it. So, I can only offer you an educated opinion of These Two:

C is a very, very good actress. She is classy, sophisticated and knows instinctively how to occupy a stage or a set. She worked and progressed a LOT since Season 1, when it took me a good while to warm up to her. Add to this what I think is arresting beauty. Not really a C-level, in my book.

S is a wonderfully gifted actor who, unlike C, does not have any idea of this potential and, to be honest, gives the impression to even not care about it. He singlehandedly dominated some of the most difficult moments of the series (that unwatchable Wentworth episode comes to mind). His mastery of the Stanislavski and Lecoq methods and techniques is excellent. He is likeable, personable and has an innate emotional intelligence, helping him navigate and compensate the weaknesses of (yes, I insist!) an often insufficient script. I have already written about it, with arguments, when I found some very interesting parallels between The Fiery Cross episode and Laurence Olivier's performance in Shakespeare's Henry V. I will say it again: this guy has been grossly miscast, spare for JAMMF.

Perhaps you are unfamiliar with the whole preparation and rehearsal process when producing a movie or a series or a theatre show. These people don't just learn their lines by heart and turn up for readings and rehearsals. They also read and watch a lot of things that could help them build better, more credible characters. But what makes the sometimes very subtle difference between a decent performance and a stellar one is the amount of themselves they allow inside their acting. And in this respect, I think Sam and Cait have been very lucky, in what is a very clear case of Art (instinctively) imitating Life.

I doubt this answered your question and to be honest, I don't care.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

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jbaileyfansite · 7 months ago

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Interview with the Los Angeles Times (2024)

“This is where all the cruising happened.”

Jonathan Bailey and I are standing in Pershing Square on a bright, blustery spring afternoon, nearing the end of a homemade queer history tour of downtown L.A.: One Magazine, Cooper Do-Nuts/Nancy Valverde Square, the Dover bathhouse, the Biltmore Hotel and this, the city’s former Central Park, a haven, since before World War I, for “fairies” and “sissy boys,” servicemen on leave and beatniks on the road.

“Is it still happening now?” he asks.

“Probably not as much,” I venture.

“Well, you let me know if it’s happening,” he teases, a mischievous smile lighting up his face.

Bailey understands the uses of the charm offensive. As Sam, the handsome Lothario of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s delightful pre-”Fleabag” curio, “Crashing”; Anthony, the romantic hero of “Bridgerton’s” second season; and John, the jerk of a protagonist in Mike Bartlett’s love triangle play “Cock,” the English actor, 36, has swaggered up to the precipice of superstardom. With roles in such studio tentpoles as “Wicked” and “Jurassic World” on the horizon, he may just break through. Yet he delivers career-best work in Showtime’s queer melodrama “Fellow Travelers,” as anti-Communist crusader-turned-gay rights activist Tim Laughlin, by leaving behind the self-assured rakes and tapping a new wellspring: soft power.

Tim may be, as Bailey puts it, “an open nerve,” but as it turns out, the devout Catholic and political naïf — who falls for suave State Department operative Hawkins “Hawk” Fuller (Matt Bomer) just as Sen. Joseph McCarthy tries to purge the federal government of LGBTQ people — is formidable indeed.

Stretching from the Lavender Scare to the depths of the AIDS crisis, in scenes of tenderness, cruelty and toe-curling sex, Bailey’s performance communicates that little-spoken truth of relationships: It takes more strength to submit than it does to control. The former demands discipline, courage, trust; the latter requires only force.

“In ‘Bridgerton,’ [Bailey] is like a Hawkins Fuller character — he is very sexy and has lots of power, has that kind of confident charisma that absolutely is not Tim at all,” says “Fellow Travelers” creator Ron Nyswaner.

But any doubt about Bailey’s ability to mesh with Bomer, who boarded the project early in development, was put to bed with the actors’ virtual rehearsal of a meeting on a park bench in the pilot. “‘Well, that’s a first,’” Nyswaner recalls an executive texting him. “I cried in a chemistry read.”

‘Am I inviting people in?’

Bailey grew up in a musical family in the Oxfordshire countryside outside London, and this, coupled with an appreciation for the morning prayers, choir practice and Mass he attended as a scholarship student at the local Catholic school, fed his precocious talents. (“I loved the performance of it,” he laughs. “Not to diminish the celebration of religious process, but I did love the idea of wearing a gown.”) By age 10, he’d appeared in the West End, playing Gavroche in a production of “Les Misérables,” an experience he now recognizes as an encounter with a queer found family — albeit one shadowed by the toll of the AIDS crisis, which peaked in the U.K. in the mid-1990s.

“When I’m asked about my childhood, there’s so much I don’t remember, and I think that’s true of anyone who’s been in fight or flight for 20 years,” he says. “I would have been in a cast of people whose friends would have died in the last seven years. I think of where I was seven years ago. I had all my gay friends then. It’s only retrospectively that I can retrofit a real gay community around me [in the theater], that I just wasn’t aware of [then].”

During the late 1990s and early 2000s, American and British culture presented queer adolescents with a bewildering array of mixed signals. As beloved celebrities came out in growing numbers, and the battle for marriage equality became a central locus of LGBTQ political organizing, the media continued to propagate harmful stereotypes of gay men as miserable, lonely, perverted or worse — and, Bailey remembers, callously turned George Michael, arrested on suspicion of cruising in a Beverly Hills restroom in 1998, and Irish pop star Stephen Gately, who revealed his sexuality in 1999, fearful he was about to be outed, into tabloid spectacles.

No wonder Bailey, like many LGBTQ people of his generation, should feel the “chemical” thrill of “validation and acceptance” during London Pride at age 18, then embark on a two-year relationship with a woman in his 20s.

“Dangerously, if you’re not exposed to people who can show you other examples of happiness, you think that’s the easiest way to live,” Bailey says. “It’s funny. You look back and you can tell the story in one way, which is that I always knew who I was and my sexuality and my identity within that. But obviously at times, it was really tough. I compromised my own happiness, for sure. And compromised other people’s happiness.”

Disclosures about his personal life have become particularly thorny for the actor since the premiere of “Bridgerton,” the blockbuster bodice-ripper from executive producer Shonda Rhimes.

“The Netflix effect does knock you off center completely,” he says, recalling the experience of finding a paparazzo waiting outside his new flat before he’d even moved in. “Suddenly, you do start having nightmares about people climbing in your windows... Even now, talking about it makes me feel like, ‘Am I inviting people in?’”

He is also critical of the media for churning out headlines about the smallest details of celebrities’ private lives, often detached from their original context. In an interview with the London Evening Standard published in December, Bailey described a harrowing encounter in a Washington, D.C., coffee shop in which a man threatened his life for being queer — and, in recounting the experience, offhandedly mentioned the “lovely man” he’d called, shaken, after it happened. Although Bailey acknowledges that the original story handled the subject with aplomb, he felt dismayed that more attention wasn’t paid to the intended warning about rising anti-LGBTQ sentiment: “The only thing that got syndicated from that story was that I had a boyfriend, and it wasn’t true,” he sighs. “It was kind of depressing, if I’m honest.”

Still, Bailey, who once turned down a role in a queer-themed TV series because it would have required him to speed along revelations about his personal life he wasn’t ready to make, is prepared to embrace the power of vulnerability when it feeds the work. Although a member of his inner circle expressed doubts about “Fellow Travelers’” steamy sex scenes, for instance, the actor intuited that they were what made the project worth doing: “I was like, ‘I’m telling you, they are the reason why this is going to be brilliant.’”

‘He’s changed my trajectory in my own life’

To those who would complain about the state of sex in film and TV, “Fellow Travelers” is the perfect riposte. All of it matters, from Tim’s first flirtation with Hawk to the finale’s closing minutes, because the series, at its core, is about the importance of soft power: the strength required to bend, but not break; to adapt, but not abandon oneself; to survive without shrinking to nothing in the process.And depicting that through sex, specifically gay sex, makes “Fellow Travelers” radical indeed.

Bailey understands that baring so much comes with certain risks. When I tell him that research for the story has filled my algorithmic “For You” feed on X (formerly Twitter) with speculation that his onscreen relationship with Bomer has a real-life element, he notes that “shipping” fictional couples and costars alike has long been part of Hollywood fantasy. But he bristles at the implication that he and Bomer are anything but skilled actors at work.

“I would love for people to know that the success of our chemistry isn’t based on us f—. It’s actually about us leaning into the craft,” he says. “It’s a vulnerable situation to be in, talking about it on record. I don’t want to rob people of their thoughts. But I do have a set of values, and as an artist, you don’t need to be f— to tell that love story.”

Underlying that craft, Bailey adds, is the confidence to speak up, as with one scene in “Fellow Travelers” that was adjusted because he said, “I don’t want to be naked today.” He learned to use his voice the hard way: In his early 20s, he recalls, he was once “bullied” on set when “someone was threatened” by him and vowed to himself, “I’m never going to do that to someone. I’m never going to allow that to happen.”

This impulse to direct his influence in support of others has blossomed further with “Fellow Travelers.” On the day of our interview, Bailey enthuses about an upcoming meeting with legendary gay rights activist Cleve Jones and shares his idea for a docuseries recording the stories of elders in the LGBTQ+ community while they are still here to tell them. He describes lying in a hospital bed on set on World AIDS Day, in character as Tim, surrounded by gay men who had lost friends and lovers during the crisis, and finding himself thinking, “What do I want to leave behind?”

“I think he’s changed my trajectory in my own life,” Bailey says.

This is, perhaps, the most common reaction I know to diving deep into queer history — the understanding that we, like our forerunners, are responsible for shaping the queer future, whether in politics, society or art. No one is going to do it on our behalf.

As we stand on the nondescript corner now named for her, I relate the story of the late queer activist Nancy Valverde, who was arrested repeatedly while a barber school student in the 1950s on suspicion of “masquerading” because of her preference for short hair and men’s clothing, and later successfully challenged her harassment by the police in court.

“What a hero!” Bailey exclaims, wondering at Valverde’s bravery. “The thing that’s so interesting with power battles is, ultimately, identity is the thing that gives you the most strength and power in your life, isn’t it?

“Because that’s one thing people can’t take away from you: who you are and how you express yourself.”

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#jonathan bailey #jonny bailey #interviews #interviews:2024 #LA times interview 2024 #LA times #fellow travelers #NEW!

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akookminsupporter · 10 months ago

Note

For those who were surprised or confused or were trying to find reasons on why Jikook enlisted together and *gasp* who will still be together for the next 500+ days, have you watched original content?

Like Run BTS, where JK mostly tries (yet, sometimes fails) to be on the same team as Jimin or helps Jimin (even if they're on different teams), or almost fights one of his hyungs when Jimin gets hurt by a shuttlecock (not on purpose)?

How about the Bon Voyage series, where competitive Jungkook was so happy to lose a game bec he gets to share a room w/ Jimin, or how they were mostly together, and shared food w/ each other? How JK, with a humongous backpack, was so happy to have Jimin as his partner in Hawaii? How about JK waking up early in the morning to hike and get a huge chunk of snow for Jimin? How about them walking while Jimin listens attentively to JK about sand fleas that got stuck at the bottom of his shoes?

In the Soop S1 and S2, sound familiar? The all-nighter duo going at it, drinking, laughing, smashing a mosquito net? How about having a karaoke session, eating ramen, and drinking beer? JK asking a sleepy Jimin if he wanted Haemul kalguksu?

How about the four documentaries? How they end up rehearsing until the end together, how they spend several hours per day? And yet, still wanting to be together even after they finished work? How they eat dinner in one of the rooms and talk? Or how, when one gets overwhelmed/frustrated/disappointed, they seek the other's presence?

How about those Festa videos and Festa special interviews, how they admire and inspire each other to be better at their craft, be better people?

How about the past weverse lives, esp Jungkook's ones? How about listening to other members when they say Jikook are together during this and that?

If people would just listen and look at their pattern, it shouldn't come as a surprise that Jimin and Jungkook will choose each other, especially for major decisions/moments in their lives, because that's what they've been doing the past decade.

Why undergo the complicated process of the buddy system when they would just separate after 5 months? They could have just enlisted individually. These people write lies and essays about Korean's military system, which they have zero knowledge about because it's Jikook. If other members did it, no one would question it.

Instead of worrying about JK and Jimin's safety in the artillery unit (which, quite frankly, seems intense based on what they were operating), solos and the subgroup keep spewing BS. Do you know the mental toll learning how to kill has on a person? And these guys commenting that JK is not smiling on the photo? Smh. I'm so sorry for the word vomit, Rosie. The next several months would be crazier and a lot would be more unhinged, it seems, bec they refuse to acknowledge the truth about Jungkook and Jimin's bond.

I just wish for Jikook and all the other members to come back healthy, physically, mentally, and emotionally.

OPINIONS.

#anon #ask #jkkrs opinions #Preg 72

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space-blue · 4 months ago

Text

The Acolyte Brendok Re-write

I went ahead and reworked the entire Brendok storyline to flesh out and improve on character development. This rewrite ends up to the same outcomes but is set to be one long episode or two back to back if need be, with a much deeper focus on our star POV character:

This rewrite is very long (5.3k words) so I'm putting it under a cut. If anything is confusing let me know. Some scenes are not fleshed out at all as they're intended to be mostly the way they are in the show.

Thanks to my friends Paula and Vincent who helped craft this plot.

Torbin POV — He's our focal POV character for Jedi sections.

Instead of picking moss for 7 weeks they have been on a hyperspace survey, hopping from blighted world to blighted world, exactly what they expected to find. Torbin makes a deprecating joke about how excited he is to sample new rocks.

They drop out of hyperspace and discover the lush green world of Brendok.

Cockpit scene with the Jedi arguing loudly, strong emotions : excitement, confusion, lots of back and forth with words we and Torbin don't understand, and some of the conversation made all the more confusing by Kelnacca's shyriiwook.

The audience gets to be educated about vergence alongside padawan Torbin. But clearly the Jedi aren't sure this is what it is, and the vergence is made to be a very mythical and improbable thing. Sol argues it must be one, and Indara says he's being far too hasty.

> Establishing early the theme of Sol seeing what he wants to see in things and getting ahead of himself.

Torbin seems excited that they can finally report something significant and go home.

Kelnacca laughs and says something. Torbin is crestfallen and asks "Really?"

Sol, fixed on the world with poorly veiled enthusiasm, says "Of course, we can't pass up such an opportunity. We have all the tools we need as well."

Indara agrees and says they will land and take samples. When Torbin gives her a wounded look, she smiles and says this is definitely the last world on this mission before going home, but they can't not investigate.

They crash land or damage their ship in some way as they come down. They try to call for rescue and find their comms broken. They trigger their distress beacon and prepare to wait. Indara decides to deploy the team collecting samples and data to not waste their time, since they're here either way.

On that first night, Torbin has nightmares. We don't get in them but see him have tremors and kicking.

Montage of how tedious and boring the life is, collecting moss and not finding the clues they expect. They have a camp OUTSIDE their ship (like a campervan extending so they can process samples and cook on fire, etc.) Field biologist vibe, and the adult Jedi all give off that field tech nerd vibe enduring the elements to get stuff done.

Torbin (who is shown rubbing his forehead on occasion and blinking at his samples/at the horizon) is complaining a lot about the feeling that this is pointless, and Sol—who is very excited for the possibilities of a vergence—keeps trying to uplift and reassure him, getting in the way of Indara's training. They have a chat about it like in the show, making it clear that Sol is overstepping, despite it being in good spirits.

Torbin goes and has another nightmare, this time we're in it with him.

He's running through a forest, and spirit/demonic smoky figures are running around him, laughing, cackling. He's being hunted. The trees part before him, shining bright. He comes to a hard stop. When the brightness equalises, we see the vista before him is the coruscant skyline.

Cut to his face, teary-eyed, quivering smile of relief.

An arrow shoots through his throat. He goes to fall to the ground—next cut, the thing that actually hits the ground is an animal, shot there with an arrow by the witches.

(It's a scene transition to daytime in the real world)

Osha POV

Mae and Osha are there, being taught how to hunt. Mother Koril makes them rehearse their lessons on how to poison their arrow tips, and what poison is used for what season, establishing their mentor/student relationship and the future poison name-drop. The witches hunt as a group, and we see them using the smoke power to get ahead of an animal or away from danger. It is shown to be positive and useful.

Mae uses the Force to freeze one of the animals Osha is supposed to shoot and she takes exception to that. She starts an argument between them over how to hunt, saying Mae always does stuff like that and to stop. She wants to prove herself alone. Mae doesn't get it: they are always together so they should hunt together.

A scout crashes the end of the hunt by reporting the presence of intruders further in the forest. Koril is first curious and cautious, but the witch says they seem to be Jedi and Koril goes into panic mode and repatriates everybody home.

The girls bicker the whole way home and wonder what Jedi are like and how dangerous they really are, with the adults too busy hurrying to really mind them.

Their settlement is in a crater/mountain/old mine too, but many of the buildings are made out of local wood. Only the inner chambers and private quarters of the girls and mothers seem to be in the stone buildings. However, LOTS and LOTS of lush carpets and tapestries are everywhere within these areas. Despite the abandoned mine setting, things are warm and cushy. That will also be great fuel for fire later. It gives the witches a strong visual aesthetic. They clearly do a lot of crafts. Visual representations of the Thread abound, and lots of spirals and dot work.

It becomes very clear that the girls are the only children and treated as little princesses.

Koril goes to talk to Aniseya. She reveals the presence of Jedi on the world. Aniseya smiles at her and says 'I know.'

Start of an argument, Koril demanding, 'When were you going to tell me about this?'

Aniseya saying it's fine, she's just keeping an eye on them through the eyes of their weakest member (Torbin). They crashed down in a valley beyond the river and should pose no threat. There's only 4 of them and they seem to be scientists/researchers/academics.

Koril remains angry and says they can't afford to take any risk as the ritual is fast approaching and they can't miss this chance to tie the girls to the coven.

Aniseya has strong words then, challenging Koril over how much she thinks she cares for the girls and asserting she would never endanger them and only thinks about what's best for them.

Here is when the girls come running in, having changed, and Aniseya flips to good mom and feeds them treats. Insert some cute family time together. Here is a good moment to have Osha voice how scared she is of the coming ritual and further the bickering between the sisters. Osha can complain about how Mae got in the way of her hunt, that she won't let her do anything on her own and this isn't resolved when Aniseya interrupts the fight and makes them hold hands, just like in the show.

Torbin POV

It's morning and Sol and Torbin are eating rations in the sun, sitting on crates by the ship.

Sol gives a sheepish look over his shoulder to the ship's entrance, but approaches Torbin asking him if he's OK. He heard him scream early this morning.

Torbin breaks and confesses to his nightmares (and maybe headaches, triggered from Aniseya taking glances through his eyes). He's distraught and Indara approaches, annoyed, thinking that Sol is overstepping again. Kelnacca is on her heels. She arrives in time to hear Torbin say he thinks they're not alone on this planet. He's seen them. He sees them in his dreams. Adds something cryptic like "they live in the mountain".

This should be shot almost like a horror film moment.

The masters exchange looks, but can sense his unease and agree to go investigate. Sure enough, they find proof of habitation.

Torbin looks relieved at the news: it wasn't him losing it. But he's extremely aloof and clearly torn between going to confront these people and ask for hospitality + broker peace, vs. keeping clear of them since his dreams are so ominous. Anyway it's clearly not his call to make and they are very low on resources + have only a distress beacon and hope to send a message to the order.

Emphasise that the knights are more hopeful and open and consider themselves welcome anywhere in the galaxy, highlighting how unusual Torbin's anxiety seems. He looks like he's overreacting as far as the jedi know.

They bang on the door and after an awkward wait, a woman comes out and asks what they want.

They explain they crashed and have low food and no comms, and hope to trade and send out a message/confirm they're being picked up.

The woman frees the way and invites them in.

The vibes are off the entire time, but more in an awkward or uncertain way.

When they are allowed to step in and talk to the mothers, the witches at the door perform a small welcoming ritual, dabbing their foreheads with a dash of white paint. Something intrusive and unconventional. Indara and kelnacca care the least/are used to putting up with weird local stuff, while Sol seems a little put off or wary, and Torbin is outright uncomfortable with being touched.

They go inside, get to be shown around a bit. The witches are very standoffish. Kelnacca strikes off to inspect their craft and is curious about the spirals and chats to an artisan who speaks shyriiwook. Indara is focused on getting a message out. Aniseya insists on sending it themselves (to make sure they don't plot against them). Indara promises them safety though if they could help understand the planet it would be great.

Aniseya plays dumb about the vergence (IDK what you mean?) but says they can answer their questions. Sol starts asking, more and more questions about the planet and the witches (when they arrived, where they landed, was the mine operational when they arrived, etc) making them grow visibly uncomfortable, as it seems like he's asking to figure them out, rather than the planet.

Meanwhile Osha and Mae are spying on them. Mae insist on going back to their room as they were ordered to stay out of the way. Osha distracts her. She says look at the mighty scary jedi. They're not so bad. Sol is smiling as he asks his questions, Indara laughs politely with someone. Kelnacca is now trading food. They aren't that scary and also... There's a boy.

The girls fixate on Torbin, who looks tweaky and uneasy. They nudge each other, comment on his curls and wonder what he's like. Osha spots his lightsaber and points to it. She decides to go have a closer look. Mae insists it's not safe and that they should go back to their room.

Osha goes and pspspshhhs Torbin. He spots them and follows them to a more secluded area. He makes fast friends and shows off his lightsaber when asked. He looks much more at ease seeing kids around.

They start quizzing him with dozens of questions all at once. Mae and Osha have different interests (Osha asking about other kids and what life is like on Coruscant, Mae asking why he's carrying a weapon and can she see it, or something like this).

Torbin, who is clearly good with younger kids, answers them and starts reminiscing about what he left at home. The temple, his classes, his friends... he seems increasingly homesick. Osha asks how many other children there are and is shocked when she learns there's hundreds of them, living equally all together.

The chat goes in the direction of Torbin being the one asking questions and the girls guard is down. They tell him about the ritual they're about to take part in. Maybe he likens it to a knighting and they clarify they will become the leaders of their coven. Torbin asks how come they can become leaders if they're kids still learning. The girls don't really have an answer, but maybe Mae says it has to do with how good they are with "pulling on the Thread". They reveal they are FS that way (maybe pulling Torbin's saber out of his hand with a victorious smirk, which would make Torbin freeze in realisation).

They are then caught. Torbin is dragged away and the girls are forced back into the building. He is made to swear to not speak of the girls to anyone. He does. He gives his word.

The Jedi go back to their ship and very quickly Torbin says they are force users. This immediately clicks for the Jedi. "ah so that's why the vibes were so off. They're witches." sort of realisation.

When asked how he knew, Torbin hesitates but quickly reveals the girls' presence. He says they claimed they too can "pull on the thread", which the older jedi immediately understand to mean use the force.

Sol shows interest and curiosity and some concern. Only two children? Twins? And why are witches hiding them? Again we get to hear more about the Jedi's relationship with force cults via dialogue between Torbin and the masters. They explain to him why some force cults are seen more negatively, and he has only heard of nightsisters.

Torbin is asked for details and mentions what the girls said about being part of a ritual and becoming the coven leaders.

Sol continues to worry and the POV shifts to him.

In the morning he goes to spy on the witches, climbing the side of the walls.

At first he only sees normal life scenes, but then he follows a large group that makes its way to the pit to begin a ritual. They carry a very elderly witch. Then they head to fields set in terraces carved from the rock wall. There he witnesses with increasing distress a death ritual, in which the elderly witch, clearly at death's door but still alive, is levitated between chanting witches with black eyes. She dissipates into smoke.

We experience and see how incredibly wrong and disturbing this feels to Sol. Dune-style montage of his vision/sensation of this, to highlight that her passing into the force was not usual. This is not peaceful or light. Maybe he feels nauseous. Visible reaction.

But then the plants in the fields experience a mad growth spurt (close ups of sprouting seeds, things rotting faster, soil shivering with worms and insects, buds exploding into flowers and seed). Would go with whoompy and base heavy, oppressive soundtrack.

The witches come out of their trance delighted and go observe the results in the fields while Sol makes his shaky exit.

He goes back to Indara extremely concerned and insists on "rescuing" the girls. Torbin feels more guilty now that he spoke up at all. He just wants to leave and is against going to fetch the kids. Outvoted again. Indara accepts the risk seems great and they can use the Jedi looking for kids as an excuse to confront them about this.

Osha POV

The girls are still arguing as they prepare for the ritual. Talk with Aniseya. Very little needs to change. The ritual proceeds and is again interrupted. Make that ritual look a little spookier but remain visibly just as safe.

Torbin POV

We go back to the show's scene of a home invasion by the Jedi, interrupting the ritual for the girls. The girls are hidden but this time Indara says she knows there are children here. Koril glowers at Torbin who tries to make himself very small.

Dialogue remains similar. The girls are brought forward. Sol softens and mellows and clearly is smitten with them and tries to recruit them. Torbin blurts out the mark on Mae's forehead is new, which makes everyone tense up.

Indara insists the children be tested. Osha wants to. Koril argues. Sol argues. The camera pans to Torbin instead and their voices fade out to a hum. His face is twitching. Voices around him accuse him of lying, breaking his word, and being spineless. Intruder, child snatcher, etc. He breaks, blinks, and whispers "I'm sorry", and the moment the word is out, his eyes instantly go black.

Scene proceeds as in the show. The witches promise to bring the girls in the morning for their tests.

Sol is vindicated and extra worried due to the way they treated Torbin. Unlike in the show though, Indara cannot ask for council guidance. She sticks to the rules and says Sol can't be for real, the girls are too old, the witches too weird, they won't let them go. Torbin may add they're here with their mom and it's fine and to please leave it.

As they walk to their two speeders, the celestial bodies overhead separate (the opportunity has passed and the ritual cannot resume)

Osha POV

Chat with their mom about the test with the Jedi the next morning. Girls arguing. Mae says there's no point as they're part of the coven now. Osha saying she isn't. Aniseya tells her that of course she's part of them, even if the ritual wasn't fully completed. She tries to reassure her, says she must lie.

Osha whines and says she wants to show her progress and what Aniseya taught her. Aniseya explains that it would be dangerous and that the jedi have to know as little as possible about their true capabilities. Both girls ask why, as they still both think the Jedi were nice and don't seem like bad people.

Aniseya explains that the Jedi aren't bad as individual people and that maybe all of them here are very kind and good, but the order they belong to is enormous, wields power and controls it. It gets to decide who can use the Thread and in what way. Then she segways into a gentle and kid friendly explanation that many generations ago, their coven already had to flee a world to escape from the Jedi. She may say that they claim to be peaceful, but have gone to many wars against the Sith, and that you can't even call it a war when they wipe out a small coven.

The girls go to the ship and make their promise to lie.

We see Mae lie and tell worrisome things about becoming "one with all" to the masters like in the show.

Then Osha goes in. The same happens but she already knows about other kids and she simply asks what it was like for Sol and is shocked to hear they have babies too and that Sol was given pretty old at 4 yo.

Once she's done with the test she's now not failing, we get to see her try more things. The remote and saber, a little spar with Torbin with sabers on low settings, push-feather with Indara. She's exhilarated and bright eyed and admits she wants to become a jedi. We SEE her be happy with them and ask questions she likes the answers to.

Indara is looking quite displeased with this. Torbin is very uncomfortable standing in the doorway, and Sol is smiling brightly and encouraging Osha, clearly bonding with her through the test.

When Osha steps out Mae already knows she must have told them the truth because she stayed in the ship for so long.

We go back with the witches. Have same scene as in the show with osha deciding she wants to go, Aniseya promising to take her opinion into consideration, the witches being against it, and Aniseya choosing to let her go.

ASIDE :

The reason why the girls are so OP, must become leaders and the witches have no other kids (all relevant to the back and forth with Aniseya and should inform dialogue)

The coven uses group action. Most of the witches are fairly weak individually but can be powerful as a group working as one. The power of many. They rally behind powerful leaders. On their last world they were subject to attack, lost a lot of their children in particular, and their OP leader. Mother Aniseya/Koril were younger then, but the two next OP. They fled to Brendock in hiding, and discovering the vergence, Aniseya created the twins. Seeing their potential they were made as next leader. This would mean leading group rituals and protecting the Coven. They are only as powerful as their best witch, and Mae and Osha are like multipliers.

The witches don't make it sound like this is taboo, and more like Jedi would definitely take the girls away to study them and never return them. They can't afford this because of protection, they are not even done recovering from the damage of their last conflict.

Back to the story, with Mae furious. She is kicked out before Osha leaves the room. We now see her lock the doors and break the pad without anyone knowing, before she runs back into the building to get to Osha.

Torbin POV

The Jedi rescue finally arrives at the crash site. It's just one man in a small ship. He's here to give them a ride back. Torbin wants to go now, Sol wants to stay. The blood test ping right then.

The girls are suspicious to them immediately. Sol concludes they were born of the vergence. Indara suggests they might have been created from it, split somehow. She goes to use the new ship's comm to go as the council for guidance.

They are all in their camping area, half packed up. The new jedi is watching them argue while sipping on his soup, looking confused. Indara comes back out saying the Council said NO.

Osha is too old, and with her alone there's no proof they're the product of a vergence. They said they must come home, and will send another crew later on to mediate with the coven and investigate the matter.

Sol is distressed and says the girls are in danger. Mae is already marked. Osha outright said she wants to come. And if they bring back BOTH girls then the council will see they are a vergence and must be trained/studied. This is where he says he feels OSha is meant to be his padawan.

Indara goes to protest, but Sol runs for a speeder to say he can negotiate with the witches.

Indara yells for Torbin to follow him and stop him. (there's only two speeders and Torbin being lighter will be faster alone to catch up). She and Kelnacca run for the new ship telling the new guy that they'll be right back and please mind the camp. He looks very confused but resigned.

Torbin catches up to Sol outside the coven and begs him to stop. They can finally go home. They don't belong here. Sol ignores him and instructs him to shut off his mind so they don't get to him again and breaks in, Torbin on his heels.

Witches on high alert. Koril and Aniseya rush to the yard to confront the men.

Osha POV

Fight/argument with the girls in their room. They vent a lot of their usual criticism, push and pull over Osha's notebook, and in it Mae sees doodles of Torbin too (bit of a "turning Red" style acknowledgement that girls get crushes, but it also helps establish Osha as turned to other people and Mae perceiving this as a threat.

Now Mae mocks Osha for having known Torbin for barely a day and she's already boy-sick.

Osha rips the book from her hand and goes to hit her with it. Mae reacts by pushing her with the force out of reflex. Osha doesn't block (as she didn't with their earlier training which still can happen when they come home from the hunt). She sends Osha flying across the room, hitting her head. She passes out and doesn't see the lamp breaking on the carpet, igniting it.

Mae freezes, watching the carpet flare up. She tries to tamp it down, screaming Osha's name. She runs to her and tries to lift/drag/shake her but she's heavy and the fire is spreading. She rushes out screaming for help.

Torbin POV

The situation is heating up as Kelnacca and Indara arrive together. Sol has dropped the fact they should be taking both girls if they can and the witches are reacting like this is child snatching and straight up won't surrender Mae.

Indara tries to calm everyone. She's starting to make sense, and Aniseya goes to say something (maybe say she's OK to let Osha go), only for Mae's scream to be heard. She comes out screaming "Fire, fire!"

Sol yells "Osha!" Only for Mae to give him a weird look and say "Osha's trapped in the room!"

Sol blinks his surprise away. The witches turn on the jedi, many voices heard at once, asking what have you done!? Indara says "Nothing, we're all here, we just want to talk."

The witches fire back they are lying/they have a new jedi/he must be here.

Torbin whips out his lightsaber right as the witches begin firing at him.

All at the same moment or in very quick succession:

Koril goes for Indara and is deflected by Kelnacca

Aniseya goes to smoke rescue Mae, only for Sol to freak out at the sight of the smoke effect again and stab her. She still tells him "You could have taken Osha, she chose to go and I was going to let her".

Mae screams and rushes forward, falling over Aniseya. Indara leans over her and says they have to put down the fire, asking where Osha is.

Koril attacks Sol.

Kelnacca and Torbin block arrows while Indara picks Mae up and asks to show her the way.

Osha POV

Osha wakes up alone in a room in flames. To her, she was left for dead and left to burn. She makes her escape as in the show. She can't get to the door due to flames. We hear screams and explosions as the whole place flames up. She makes her way through the tunnels.

Jedi POV

Cut back to Mae and Indara, discovering the room is empty. Indara is calling out for Osha, tries to sense her, says she's not here. Mae has already spotted the open pipe and darts away.

Cut to the Koril vs. Sol fight and Torbin blocking arrows. Things proceed as in the show, with Koril disappearing to smoke and the witches taking over Kelnacca, except Indara stops her efforts to contain the fire and find Osha when she hears Torbin scream.

She winces in shared pain and rushes back out to see the end of the fight with Kelnacca. She intervenes again. This is way more visceral. We actively see depictions of her mental state. When the witches are cut off it's a thread snapping/strong sound design. Indara is shaken, mumbling an "oh no... I... I...' (clearly didn't intend to kill when she severed the bond)

There are still screams about the place as women try to escape the flames and smoke. Several explosions then.

Indara snaps at Sol "Find the girls!" before rushing to Torbin's side. Kelnacca is KO. Torbin is much more grievously injured. A sweating and visibly strained Indara takes a deep breath before trying to use force heal on him.

Sol POV

Sol, running inside to find the girls, stumbles on the witches all dead. Koril is WITH them, to highlight the fact she wasn't dissolving with the smoke effect, but teleporting, meaning Sol must have overreacted to this effect (and now he can guess what Aniseya most likely attempted and we know he knows).

He hears screams and follows them.

Instead of the girls being in a split gangway about to collapse just yelling each other's name, he finds Osha trapped outside the exit of her pipe system. She is still over the same drop, though it'd there is a lot more smoke that obscures the real depth of the shaft (and there's more coughing/strong impression things are burning all around).

Mae appears from the side and at a higher point (she's been tracing the path of the pipes trying to find where Osha would emerge and is getting to her now). She proceeds to move forward despite how dangerous the damage gangplank is, to try and reach Osha.

Sol yells for her to move back. He tries to find a clear pass, crying from the smoke in the air. Mae is saying she's sorry, she's also crying and saying "Mom's dead" to a horrified Osha who asks her "what did you do?!"

Mae says "The Jedi came for you!" as an accusation. "I didn't—" and then the ramp drops a bit, they both scream. Sol yells for them to hang on and gets closer.

Mae gets back up at the edge of the ramp and Osha grabs her hand and joins her. Their combined weight is too much. The ramp breaks and falls down over the pit. They hang on, screaming, and Sol grabs the entire ramp with the Force.

He's crying, blinking, straining. Mae is slipping, her grip on Osha loosening. She has one hand on the ramp and one on Osha's top.

Sol slips in the Force and the ramp falls. Mae and Osha are shaken loose, but Sol grabs Osha with the Force, letting Mae fall (She was behind Osha, grabbing the back of her shirt, so she doesn't really see what's happening in the moment).

Things proceed as in the show, with heavier smoke and fire and Osha being dragged away from Aniseya not just because Sol doesn't want her to see the wound but also because there's real urgency in leaving. They run past the main door, where we can maybe see collapsed bodies. Sol runs to the weird black pit, on the edge of the settlement, the only place still clear of smoke. The music distorts around it, ominous. He looks around, desperate, passed out Osha in his arms.

Light falls on him from above : the jedi ship, piloted by Indara.

Cut to the same scene as in the show with them in hyperspace, except they're not in their own ship but the much smaller rescue vessel. Kelnacca is passed out right next to Osha in a cramped room, and Torbin is sitting nearby, hugging himself, face swollen and eye shut by crusted blood. He's mumbling he's sorry again and again and Indara is actively soothing him/rubbing his back before the confrontation with Sol begins and she decides they have to cover this up.

Argument remains the same : Mae started a fire, everybody died, but we know the mom allowed Osha to be a Jedi, and she's the sole survivor. She also wanted to join, and though they can't exactly prove she was created by a vergence, they have blood samples and she can still be studied while she trains.

Osha screams and cries as Sol holds and hugs her. Camera cuts to Torbin. Pale faced, bloodied. He's finally still, his one good eye fixed dead ahead as we listen to Osha's wailing.

Indara places a hand over his shoulder and whispers, 'It'll be all right. We're going home.'

Cut to Mae POV

Close up of her face, stone grey. Flakes of ash fall on her and coat her as the camera pans out. She's on her back on a lower gangplank in the shaft. She wakes up coughing, confused.

She took a hard fall and is limping and hugging her arm, but she crawls to an exhaust port and emerges in the woods.

She's covered in soot and dried blood. Much, much dirtier than in the show. She turns back around : it's dawn, her coven is still burning/emitting a huge plume of smoke.

She looks around, the camera is far away, making her small and alone in the shot. She asks, in a trembling voice, "Oshie?"

Cut to black.

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justkeeponsimming · 23 days ago

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Bronwyn: “Her kids told me everything. I gave Hex a deadline before I came to you with the truth about her lies. I’m glad she spoke to you. Has she moved out?”

Vaughn: “Hex’s…children? What?”

For a long moment, Bronwyn and Vaughn stare at each other in confusion. The teenager kicks herself mentally. She rehearsed this conversation with her father, yet presumed Hex had come clean about her double life.

Bronwyn: “Dad…I…I’m sorry. I…I have a lot to tell you. I need you to sit down.”

Vaughn: “I’m fine standing, Bronie. I guess I have something to share with you, too.”

Father and daughter have the hardest, darkest conversation of their lives. Vaughn reveals that Hex, Bronwyn’s step-mother, has been arrested for a break-in at the Arts Centre in San Myshuno. A detective is on her way to speak to him. Bronwyn agrees to speak with the detective too. She isn’t shocked. Of course Hex is a criminal on top of being a shady sim!

Bronwyn’s news is far worse to share. She starts from the beginning, how she met a really sweet sim named Mercy Quick. They became fast friends. Bronwyn attended Mercy’s New Year’s Eve party, where the friends had a heart-to-heart after midnight. They dropped bombshells on each other - Hex is Mercy’s mum and Bronwyn’s step-mother. Further intense conversations revealed that Hex has been living a double life - a family with her biological children in Evergreen Harbour and the ‘idyllic’ family life in Chestnut Ridge. The father of her children is her ex - Weatherly Crewe.

Vaughn has nothing to say. He’s too tired to process everything. He’s too dehydrated to cry. Bronwyn grips his shoulders, wishing to the Sim God that she could take all of her father’s pain away from him.

#ad #the sims 4 #ts4 #sims #simblr #sims 4 #differences in the family tree #ditft #quick legacy gen 8 #hex quick #legacy challenge

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sweatervest-obsessed · 1 year ago

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Salvia Splendens Means Forever Mine- Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 1.8k

TW: Death, blood, bleeding out, making out, kissing, men being creepy, swearing, blood, trauma, cliffhanger moment

A/N: Guys I am so sorry. School has actually picked up and so have rehearsals, I'm losing my mind, but I'm trying to write multiple things at once, and that's so silly of me. I'm sorry this is so short, and I promise the next one will be longer. Thank y'all for your patience. It means a lot! PS That's fully Lady Mac in the painting !!

Part 1 Part 2

In all fairness, it was your turn.

Spencer had been captured and drugged, Derek had been arrested and charged with multiple murders, Gideon’s lost love had been murdered by a serial killer, Elle had someone reach into her body and write with her blood on her living room wall, so truthfully, you were a little shocked it had taken you this long to be murdered, or kidnapped, or who knows what else.

The team hadn’t royally fucked up, per se. You all were beyond careful, but sometimes, when you misprofile, things happen. How were you supposed to know that it was the girl and her boyfriend, and not just the boyfriend.

The best part about this was the fact that you got to watch as the woman you saved two days ago get stabbed to death repeatedly, screaming at you to save her. Her blood splattered across your face, your clothes, your skin, permanently staining it in your mind. Your favorite Shakespeare show had always been Macbeth, it seemed a bit ironic now considering you felt as though you would never wash her blood off your hands.

The screams would echo around in your head as you stared at her body on the mattress across from you. The red grew in splotches like a sick mold, blooming out from underneath.

The boyfriend, whose name was slipping your mind, slid the knife up your thigh, and you couldn’t tell if he was drawing more of your blood, or dragging hers across you.

The couple had been so kind as to remove your shirt and pants, leaving you in nothing but undergarments, and no socks. Colorado was fucking cold at night

You heard the girl, Millie, giggling as she shoved the woman’s body with her foot. You winced as you felt the knife going higher than you would have preferred, his hand sliding around your waist.

“Andrew. What are you doing?”

His name was Andrew. Got it.

His hands immediately retracted, shrugging and crossing his arms, but still standing over you.

“Go dispose of her body.”

Andrew nodded, quickly tugging your hair, painfully, before moving to clean up the mess the two of them had made. You swallowed the groan in your throat and closed your eyes; the woman’s body never left your sight though.

“Why does a gorgeous agent like you wear such a boring necklace.”

Your eyes shot open as Millie swung the little gold chain around her fingers. You pulled you hand, intending to reach your neck, but the restraint dug into your wrist, surely leaving a mark in the process.

You hadn't realized it was gone. Your neck suddenly felt so cold, so make, without it.

“Oh so which one of them gave you this?”

You exhaled, but kept your eyes on her hand at all times, not wanting to lose sight of the necklace.

She smirked, watching as every muscle in your body stayed as tense as it could.

“Was it…Agent Morgan…Agent Prentiss…no, hmm…” She twirled it around, enjoying as you fidgeted around, terrified that the necklace would break.

“The skinny one?” You tried so hard not to react, but you have this nasty habit of biting your cheeks when you get extremely nervous or worried, and Millie’s smirk turned wicked when she realized.

“Ah, so it is the nerdy one…interesting…Andy?”

Andrew, who had been leaning on the door frame, eyeing you up and down, making your skin crawl, looked over at Millie.

“Baby…” She drawled, “Put this necklace on me?”

“No.” You couldn’t help it as the words shoved their way out of your mouth before you even had a chance to process it.

Andrew stalked towards Millie, eyeing her up and down before snatching the necklace out of her hand. “It’s real pretty on you baby.” He slowly placed it on her neck, the gold contrasting against her skin.

“Ya know, I just have to ask…what does this stupid pendant even mean?”

You shook your head, eyes cast downward, unable to watch someone else wear the necklace Spencer had given you.

“Hey. Fucking answer me.” She kicked your shoulder causing you to wince in pain as you felt the bruising start to form immediately.

You missed it as Andrew picked up the knife. You missed it as Millie took it from him. You didn’t miss how she stabbed you in the gut, causing your eyes to flash white.

People say pain is hot, it shoots through you like a fire you can’t put out, but they’re wrong. It is ice in your veins. The numbness slowly takes over your body as it shuts down, trying to avoid the unavoidable.

Your mouth let out a strangled “fuck” when Millie ripped the knife from your stomach, causing the blood to start oozing out of your wound.

God it was not supposed to end this way.

You placed a hand over your stomach, barely registering the wetness as you pulled it up to your eyes. You watched as the blood dripped down the sides of your hands, and that's when the adrenaline shot kicked out from underneath you.

“Oh my god.” you mumbled, placing your hand over the wound. The first thing you were supposed to do was stop the bleeding. With what? There’s nothing around? Panic was seeping through every pore in your body. You had been trained for this, why couldn’t you remember what to do? What should you even use to stop the bleeding, god it fucking hurt.

You watched as the door across the room slammed shut, causing you to flinch at the sound, causing you to groan in pain at the sudden movement.

“Fuck. Fuck.”

This couldn’t be it. You couldn’t just die while some sick and twisted bitch walked around with your necklace on, while you slowly bled out on some disgusting mattress in god knows where.

Maybe this is what Spencer thought about while he was dying.

“I’m not dying.” You whispered, wavering slightly. The blood loss was getting to your head and your eyes were getting heavy. “I’m not…shit. It’s fine…I’m”

His hand was softer than you remembered, but at least he wasn’t as nervous as before. It was your six month anniversary and Spencer had gone all out. He had taken you out to dinner, your favorite restaurant in the area, wined and dined you. It was perfect. The two of you had ended up back at your place, your back against the door as you dug your hand around in your pocket.

“Spence.’ You mumbled, smiling against his lips, losing all focus as one of his hands grabs your waist, squeezing it with anticipation.

Your lack of focus spurred Spencer on, and suddenly the door to your apartment was opening–he had found your keys and opened it, all while distracting you with his lips, his touch. You were glad someone had their head on straight.

You stumbled back slightly, not leaving his touch, feeling the warmth on his hands on your arm, pulling you back into him.

“Move in with me.” He whispered against your lips, and you’re not sure if you heard him correctly.

“What?” You whispered, taking the slightest step back, opening your eyes and looking up into his eyes. His sweet, shining eyes, filled with hope, and something a bit more.

“Move in with me…” Spencer licked his bottom lip, that same nervous tick that would drive you fucking crazy whenever you looked at him.

“What about the team…” Spencer shook his head.

“Who cares.” He smiled at you. “I just want to wake up next to you every morning.”

Spencer kissed your lips softly.

“Please sweetheart” Your jaw.

“Every single morning” Your neck.

“Spence…” You moaned slightly, surely leaving bruises on his arms from your grip. Your mind was everywhere, unable to truly cling onto any of the words Spencer was whispering to you.

“In our bed.”

“Sold.” You pulled his head up and basically launched yourself at him, lips on his.

Spencer was not having as great of a time in his head as you were.

Just as the team was getting out of their cars, he had heard your voice, causing him to immediately go on high alert, hand on his gun in an instant. The rest of the team had followed suit, all of them quickly looking at Hotch and Reid, trying to figure out a plan.

Reid almost had to be held back by Morgan the way he basically started to walk right into the building. He knew what happened in hostage situations. He knew how unforgiving captures could be. He couldn’t stop picturing all of the possibilities of what made you scream out in such pain.

But suddenly, he heard the front door slam, causing all of them to instantly aim at the couple, demands and yelling all happening so slowly.

He could hear the suspects voice, that dumb asshole that wouldn’t stop flirting with you in the restaurant they had eaten at a couple days ago. His arrogance was the least of Spencer’s problems now.

Then, he heard a woman’s voice, calling the unsub “sweetheart” and “darling” and “baby”. How could the miss the girlfriend?

She had seemed so…submissive. But clearly, the profile was off a little bit.

That’s when he heard the first gun shots go off, causing him to look up at the body on the ground, and the girl sobbing but getting on her knees. The boyfriend had a gun in his hand, but was too slow.

Morgan quickly walked up to the girl, Hotch following him closely, gun trained on her.

Hotch’s eyes went wide, and he quickly gave a nod to Emily, causing her to block Spencer’s path.

“Where did you get this?” Hotch yanked it off of her neck, clutching the necklace in his hand.

“You’ll find what’s left of 'em in there.” She smiled sickly, getting shoved by Morgan towards the black SUV brigade.

But Spencer had already seen the necklace, and heard her answer. It was a miracle how agile he was, considering the FBI had to waive all of his physical exams to let him go into the field. Before anyone could really clear the building, Spencer was already inside of it, ignoring the shouts from his superiors and peers.

He slowly made his way through, trying not to vomit at all of the blood all over the floors and the very clear drag marks of a body.

His eyes landed on your body, bloody mattress and all and he froze. He couldn’t believe his fucking eyes.

Next Part

________________________________________________________

SSMF Taglist: @raely-study @multifandoms-assemble @marylovesevanpeters @shqwqrma @niya06

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid oneshot #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x gn!reader

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sissylittlefeather · 9 months ago

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How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 13

A/N: Woof. This one took me a minute. Also, it's a short bridge-type chapter, but don't worry. Next chapter will be LONG and JUICY. This is just a necessary part of the story. Please don't give up on us! ICYMI this is the soulmate/time travel AU between Elvis and a fem!reader.

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Warnings: cussing and angst (a smut-free chapter?! Who am I?! Don't worry. It's coming soon and they will be too 😏)

Word count: ~1.9k

"Why didn't she come for me?"

******

Elvis spends the next few weeks anxiously waiting for you to show up somewhere. It's clear his mind is elsewhere. Everyone around him notices that something is off, but he won't tell anyone what's going on. He just prowls around like a caged animal, nervous and waiting for something that no one understands. He goes back to Memphis before he has to be back in Vegas in August to film his concert documentary. The only thing that gets him out of his room is Lisa Marie. Otherwise, he mopes around or stays inside.

What no one knows is he's grieving. He's pretty sure he's lost you and his son too. The pain almost overwhelms him and he has a hard time living in his real life. He finds solace in music and spends a lot of time at the piano playing a whole catalogue of new songs. His favorite, though, is a song produced by the Beatles' record label, and he eventually asks to record it later that summer. It ends up on his album for the documentary That's the Way It Is and even makes it into a rehearsal scene with him playing it on the piano and singing. For some reason, the song makes him think of you, so he sings it as often as he can.

Even though it begins to look like he's back to himself, the pain of losing you is omnipresent. He resigns himself to the fact that he will likely never see you or his son ever again. As such, he leans into the documentary and even does a photo shoot with Priscilla over Thanksgiving to try to rekindle the affection he feels for her.

But he still feels like part of his soul has gone missing. It's the same old feeling he always has when he's away from you for too long, but this time it settles in his chest and becomes a part of him. 1970 slips into 1971 and he does his best to move on. 1971 slips into 1972 and he throws himself into work and lets his relationship with Priscilla sour. She moves out and he has a hard time even caring, except that she took Lisa Marie and it just twists the dagger of having already lost one child. There are other girls, like there always have been, but they never fill the void that you leave. He has a you-shaped hole in his heart that no amount of sex or romance or even love can fill. 1972 slides by, he films Elvis on Tour, and he plays shows across the United States. He plays Vegas again and then tours again, hoping that by keeping himself busy he'll notice your absence less.

Finally, he prepares for the Aloha from Hawaii concert that will be broadcast across the world. He tries to get back into peak physical shape and does everything he can to throw himself fully into this concert. In the process, he squashes the last hope of you ever showing up again. It's been three years.

You're gone.

******

Covid hits strong in 2020 and your world gets upended. You learn to work from home, host zoom call happy hours with your friends (even though you're pregnant and can't drink), and wear a mask anytime you're in public, which isn't often. In September, you give birth (alone and in a mask) to your daughter and name her Erin Love. She's perfectly healthy and looks so much like her brother you think you've given birth to his twin. And again you weep. Elvis is missing this and you know it'll break him if he ever finds out.

2020 fades into 2021 and you still can't risk going out with a baby. Every time you start to think it might be safe, a new strain or variant shows up and the world cowers in fear again. Vegas opens, but you're terrified, both of traveling and of the possibility of sending Covid back to 1971.

So, you wait. You wait and you wait and you keep waiting until your baby is old enough and the virus seems to slow down. Still, Vegas, with its masses of people, seems too risky. Finally, in December of 2022 you have an idea. You start making plans to head to Hawaii with both kids and your mom in January of 2023. Hawaii is much more secluded and you know exactly where he will be.

When you ask your mom to come with you, she wants to know why. This is going to be a very expensive vacation and she's not sure why you need her. You sit on her couch trying to decide just how much you should tell her. Eventually, you settle on something very close to the truth.

"John is there. We haven't seen each other in three years." You look down at the ring on your finger.

"I was starting to wonder if he still existed."

"I'm not even sure he'll want to see me..." You look at the ceiling to try to stop yourself from crying, but it doesn't work and the tears come sliding down your face.

"Oh, sweetie. I'm sure he does. He loves you."

"I hope so." She pulls you into a hug.

"I will go with you. I'll watch the kids so you two can get reacquainted."

"Thank you, mom."

Once she agrees to go with you, you drop an ungodly amount of money to stay in his suite and pack up both kids to fly to the islands. You decide not to tell John Jessie why you're going, just in case it doesn't work out. He's almost 6 now and he asks about his daddy damn near everyday. Somehow, he remembers him despite the fact that it's been almost 3 years since he's seen him. Erin's too little to ask questions. She doesn't even know she has a daddy, which breaks your heart every time you think about it.

******

After a rehearsal, Elvis heads to his suite to rest. He's 100% invested in what he's doing. But out of nowhere, he thinks of you again. He hums the song he's designated as yours and goes to work changing out of his jumpsuit.

He's got the zipper all the way down when he hears a sound that makes his heart stop. There it is, the old familiar buzzing. He hasn't heard it in so long. He turns slowly, sees the portal, and practically runs through it without thinking about the fact that he has no clothes packed and is wearing a jumpsuit.

******

When Elvis comes through the portal, he stops and stares at you. He's so in shock that he doesn't know how to respond. Your mouth pops open in awe of him standing there in the American Eagle jumpsuit fully unzipped. He looks better than you could've imagined. Obviously, you've seen the footage, but it really didn't do him justice. He zips it back up and gives you a hard stare.

"It's been three fucking years, y/n."

"I know-" You don't get any further though because John Jessie comes bounding into the room. He runs to Elvis and jumps on him. He's supposed to be napping with your mom in one of the bedrooms.

"Daddy! I heard you!" Elvis grabs him and holds him tightly.

"Heyyy buddy, I missed you so much!" You can tell he's trying hard not to cry. You look nervously towards the bedroom. If your mom sees him in this jumpsuit, it'll be impossible to explain.

"Bubby, where's your grandma?"

"She's asleep." You breathe easier and John Jessie turns back to his daddy. He launches into a monologue that only a 5-year-old can follow, but Elvis sits with him on the couch and listens attentively. You stand and watch the scene and Elvis glances at you every once in a while.

After about 15 minutes, you hear Erin cry from the room where she is taking her nap. Elvis looks up at you, shocked.

"Who is that?"

"That's my sister. She's little still." John Jessie answers knowingly. Elvis's head swivels to you so fast.

"Sister?" You nod and duck out of the room to grab Erin before her crying wakes your mom up. When you come back, Elvis looks at both of you and his eyes are shiny with tears. "Is she-?"

"She's yours." He stands up and immediately takes her from you.

"What's her name?"

"Erin Love."

"Love? Like my..." He trails off and looks at her lovingly.

"Yes. Like your mother." He holds her to himself and looks up at the ceiling, trying not to cry. He pulls back and looks at her again while she babbles to him.

"Baby, do you know I'm your daddy?" She looks up at him.

"Daddy?"

"Yes!" She smiles widely and he holds her close to him again. He looks at you incredulously.

"We have another baby."

"Yes, we do." He kisses her cheek and sets her down on the floor, turning to you. His eyes burn through you and he whispers angrily.

"Where the fuck have you been?! We have a daughter?!"

"Please, Elvis, I can explain."

"You better. I'm going to spend the evening with my kids, but you better have a damn good story when they go to bed."

You nod. How will you get him to understand Covid?

******

He changes into some clothes you have for him and helps you put the kids to bed. Despite not knowing the routine, he proves to be pretty helpful. You're amazed at how well John Jessie remembers him. Your mom seems to just know she should make herself scarce through the whole evening and stays in the room. Once you get both kids in bed, you sit on the couch facing him, heart pounding and stomach in knots. He looks at you with a mixture of sadness and anger.

"Tell me why, y/n."

"There is a new virus." You desperately try to explain everything that's happened over the last three years.

"So you couldn't come to me because of a cold virus?"

"Elvis, you don't understand. This was a global pandemic. Everything was closed and people all around the world were dying. They literally shut down Las Vegas."

"I've been other places." He responds, the anger in his voice obvious.

"I know, but I couldn't risk our kids. Or the possibility of you taking this virus back to your time. I finally feel safe here in Hawaii."

"I don't know, y/n, I'm glad you're okay and I'm especially excited to see the kids. But I thought I'd lost you. I buried you in my mind."

"Did you- did you move on?" For the first time, the reality that your marriage to Elvis might be over hits you in the gut and your eyes widen. Elvis isn't sure how to answer. He has a girlfriend, and technically another wife. But he looks at you sitting in front of him and can't help but feel the connection that's bound you together for over fifteen years. He wants to be angry so badly, but really all he is is sad. Sad that he missed the first two and a half years of his daughter's life. Sad that he went so long without all of you. Sad that you almost feel like a stranger now.

You sit on the couch staring at each other waiting for his answer.

******

Come back soon for Chapter 14!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @rosepresley68 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley @rjmartin11 @noirrose21-blog @tacozebra051 @deltafalax

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis #elvis x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley x you #how the web was woven

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