#ugh i love Amelia

[cupophrogs]

Updated Ami's dress a little :p

[herejusttosufferalong]

I'm died... I ded....

[moontrinemars]

Tenth Lord in Jupiter Nakshatras

Thanks for your patience in waiting for the next part of the series - I’m glad you guys are interested. As always, recorded for my own benefit, published for yours. General disclaimer is in my bio. Credit to KRSchannel for inspiring this post.

Find your 10th lord here, and find your 10th lord’s nakshatra here.

The 10th house rules our life’s honor. It represents the services we perform for society as well as the reputation we earn as a result. It is associated with the father and the career because traditionally, this is where both our standing in society and the role we performed in society would come from - inherited through the father’s family line. However, in our contemporary world, this isn’t always the case, which is why it’s important to know the grander themes at play.

The three Jupiter-ruled nakshatras are Punarvasu, Vishakha, and Purva Bhadrapada.

Jupiter is a planetary object that represents ascension, expansion, and union. It is the aspiration that guides us to our greatest heights, and the intangible whole comprised of all pieces, parts, and individuals. Channeling Jupiter means to take the role of the collective in our capacity as an individual, such as sharing our experiences to better the understanding of others, or discovering, exploring, and sharing universal truths that connect everyone. This is why Jupiter is associated with the partner. Venus is like the practical partner, who represents our own earthly values, but Jupiter is the soulmate, who allows us to ascend beyond the self, uniting physical with spiritual. Jupiter obscures, elevates, and enlightens, offering both afterlife and a life purpose.

DO YOU HAVE YOUR 10TH LORD IN A JUPITER-RULED NAKSHATRA? THAT MEANS YOU…

Audrey Hepburn, Amelia Earhart, and Kendrick Lamar all have their tenth lords in Jupiter ruled nakshatras. Audrey’s is in Punarvasu, Anne’s is in Vishakha, and Kendrick’s is in Purva Bhadrapda.

… AND THE PUBLIC MUTUALLY TEACH, EVOLVE, AND MYTHOLOGIZE ONE ANOTHER.

This placement produces an individual who is not content to engage with either their vocation or their society as a means to an end. These natives rather prefer to approach their public life, and the concept of the public itself often enough, as deeply meaningful and containing a higher purpose. Here you find individuals who shake up their industry by introducing cultures of open-mindedness and experimentation, as often as you find those who pursue their far-flung, lofty legacies at the expense of their health, relationships, privacy, and even life.

Jupiter's fame is more particular to how its influence manifests than to the amount of or method by which it was accrued. Whether you're looking at canon-defining classics, the celebrity of subculture, or the first individual of a certain kind to succeed in this or that field, you're looking at a Jovian native whose legacy serves to teach the public, and expand how the public defines itself. Of course, anyone can push boundaries, but these natives are most likely to be remembered for the barriers they break, and the lessons they taught in the process.

MORE ON THE SPECIFICS OF PUNARVASU, VISHAKHA, AND PURVA BHADRAPADA BELOW!

IF PUNARVASU RULES THE TENTH LORD, YOU…

Sharon Tate, David Beckham, and Halle Berry all have their tenth lords in Punarvasu. Others with this placement are William Shakespeare, Aretha Franklin, Amy Adams, J. M. Barrie, Debbie Harry, Al Gore, Alannis Morisette, Naomi Judd, Stephen King, Tony Curtis, Eddie Murphy, Gisele Bündchen, Werner Herzog, and Courtney Love.

Take public responses to your behavior personally, even finding it difficult to separate your identity from your reputation at first.

Are likely to be known for your professional value on an individual level, as a matter of skill, rather than as a team member or leader.

May benefit from a mentor who takes you under their wing, or may play such a role to new incomers to your field or workplace.

Count on your inborn charm to buoy you through scandal.

Transform your persona with age to appeal to new expectations.

AND YOU MAY FIND…

Travel is an expected part of your job, and public service you perform in foreign places seems to leave a greater impact.

Early on in life, key marriages and romantic partnerships can interfere with your career and social status, or vice versa.

Engaging in social service, partaking in cultural traditions, and organizing society-wide events, is spiritually cleansing, and allows you to reintegrate your public persona and personal identity.

Others imbue you with moral authority you are not prepared to shoulder, potentially leading to unearned imposter syndrome.

A pattern of being publicly linked to 'someone else': a role you have played, a title you've been given, a superior who enhances your image, a teammate who steals your valor, etc.

PUNARVASU is the Star of Renewal. Industries and career types favored are those involving archetypes, exploration, drama, history, innovation, education, spirituality, relationships, care-taking, healing, delivery, narrative, articulation, influence, and transportation.

IF VISHAKHA RULES THE TENTH LORD, YOU…

Anne Hathaway, Usher, and Billy Idol all have their tenth lords in Vishakha. Others with this placement are Dodi Al Fayed, Steven Spielberg, Susan Sarandon, Winston Churchill, Giorgio Armani, Martin Luther, Patti Page, H. G. Wells, Martin Scorsese, Analeigh Tipton, Joel Coen, Megan Mullaly, Richard Strauss, CM Punk, Georgia O'Keefe, John Cleese, Monica Vitti, Ashanti, and Mary, Queen of Scots.

Naturally come to occupy positions of authority in the industries of your mastery, if not through literal rank than socially/morally.

May find yourself successfully introducing a new movement, genre, belief, or idea before it's celebrated by the mainstream.

Are generous in the world of public service, and will leave a legacy of having cared for and striven for the betterment of your society.

Know how to communicate your ideals and philosophies to a wide audience in a professional setting effectively, even artistically.

May be accused of elitism, pretentiousness, or arrogance, even when you try to cultivate an attitude of humility and modesty.

AND YOU MAY FIND…

Your early professional life is beset with competition, or your chosen industry is somehow affected by martial conflicts.

Members of the public will interpret you either as self-indulgent and petty, or as austere and enlightened, with no in-between.

Opportunities for romance are plentiful for you in social and legal settings, but resulting relationships must be extricated from those wider contexts to establish a happy and healthy marriage.

Your boss often partakes in social drinking with his subordinates.

Jealousy is a common theme, whether you have a reputation for being jealous, others are jealous of and threatened by you, etc.

VISHAKHA is the Star of Purpose. Industries and career types favored are those involving research, politics, competition, speech, ideology, agitation, immigration, criticism, trade, exchange, leisure, intoxicants, production, leadership, personal branding, and style.

IF PURVA BHADRAPADA RULES THE TENTH LORD, YOU…

Marilyn Monroe, Grace Kelly, and Sidney Poitier all have their tenth lords in Purva Bhadrapada. Others with this placement are Kurt Cobain, Laurence Olivier, Michael Jordan, Charles Dickens, Vincent Price, Armie Hammer, Franz Schubert, Gerard Way, John Steinbeck, Kurt Russell, Maya Angelou, Conan O'Brien, Bobby Driscoll, David Tennant, Jay Leno, Rik Mayall, Keri Russell, and OP.

Tempt others into rule-breaking and are tempted in turn by communities and livelihoods that circumvent or defy the law.

Signify a movement or change in social norms within your field.

Use your work to provoke others into changing their core beliefs.

Bring elements of the metaphysical, spiritual, transcendental, and philosophical into a more social and/or practical public setting.

Naturally uncover and grapple with a fundamentally darker side of public life and of the public in general, with too much exposure or attention more likely to pose a real, material risk to your health, security, or even life.

AND YOU MAY FIND…

Your look, attitude, and/or impulses are easily congealed into an image or symbol, one that is powerful but restrictive, and your depths may be shunned by the public or authorities as a result.

Anyone who tries to take a conflict with you public will suffer serious consequences as a result, from either your own ferocity when tested, or organized backlash from others on your behalf.

Introduction through the professional and public sphere makes others magnetically attracted to you; however, those who would already be attracted to you are at risk of becoming obsessive.

The pursuit of a specific career or end-goal, specifically through higher education or founding of a philosophy, actually puts you in contact with more opportunities and generates more success in a totally different field or toward a different goal than you plan for.

One of the most rewarding and effective means by which you can perform public service is through contributions to education and community outreach through mentorship.

PURVA BHADRAPADA is the Burning Pair. Industries and career types favored are those involving ideology, sensuality, speculative genres, music, investigation, nature, spirituality, research, administration, promotion, conflict, subcultures, rhetoric, death, and crime.

HOPE THIS IS HELPFUL. VARIATION IN REQUESTS MEANS WE’RE GOING OUT OF ORDER, BUT WE WILL RETURN TO THE OTHERS LATER. FEEL FREE TO MESSAGE WITH QUESTIONS, THOUGHTS, IDEAS, ETC. THANKS SO MUCH. PART 7 WILL BE FOCUSED ON MERCURY-RULED 10TH LORD NAKSHATRAS! ♡

[thsc-confessions]

"CONFESSION!! CONFESSION PLEASE HEAR ME OUT"

"ALL THE WOMEN'S,OKAY? ALL THE WOMEN'S IN HENRY STICKMIN ARE PRETTY!! THEY ARE QUEENS AND THEY SLAY!, STICKMIN WOMEN'S ARE BEAUTIFUL,THEY DESERVE MORE SCENES IN THE GAME,THEY DESERVE MORE FANART AND THEY DESERVE MORE LOVE AND NO ONE WILL CHANGE MY MIND" submitted by anon

[perenlop]

ok sorry for grace ranting again but like. no really did infinity train fans and i watch the same season because literally so much shit ppl claim about her is not true

[mothocean]

Fuck it. Steampunk era new albion tumblr

⚙️ mcallisterindustries Follow

Today is the 40th anniversary of the death of my beloved mother, Annabel Mcallister, whose passion for science has inspired me since i was a young boy. Without her, the memory of her death aching in my heart, driving me to pursue a way to bring back those lost to time, Mcallister Industries wouldn't be where it is today. To honor her memory, we are holding a 30% sale on all new doll models, and a 1+1 deal on reanimating newly dead loved ones! Call 1-DOLL-800 to find out more about upcoming sales and order your loved one's new doll body today!

5 notes

💀 voodoopunk-official Follow

We're meeting again at the crossroads tonight!! Bring your doll-ay doll-ay spirit!

- Mod B

#voodoopunk #vote voodoopunk we dance with you on your graves

704 notes

💀 voodoopunk-official Follow 🔁 averagealbioncitizen Follow

🤵 averagealbioncitizen Follow

man can these dolls play literally anything else. i keep retuning my granny's radio but it always plays that elysian night song :(((

🔁 💀 voodoopunk-official Follow

You just don't get it like we do

- mod A

1 notes

🟥 redhairedbisexual Follow 🔁 redhairedbisexual

🟥 redhairedbisexual Follow

my bro died so i have to take over the family business now :(( anyway hmu if you need anything special iykyk 😜🤙💯

🔁 🟥 redhairedbisexual Follow

update: who tf keeps stealing our stock im gonna fucking bootleg doll you

7 notes

👑 aliceinfutureland Follow

made some progress today :) the angels will be proud

0 notes

🤖 doll34221543 Follow 🔁 doll356857543 Follow

🌠 newalbionmayor-official Follow

Elysium, the silent sighed lost lullaby...

56.7K notes

💀 voodoopunk-official Follow 🔁 bi-bye-byron Follow

🕶 destroy-da-dollz-deactivated

🔁 🎩 bi-bye-byron Follow

JASPERSWEEP

🔁 👯‍♀️ dykes4dolls Follow

What a self own lmao

🔁 💞 dollay-darling Follow

op did u really think people were gonna vote against the doll? On the voodoopunk website?

🔁 🕶 destroy-da-dollz-deactivated

'voodoopunk website' up my ass y'all let the power get to your head. You fucking rusty ass stoner cultists ain't gonna last here

🔁 💀 voodoopunk-official Follow

THEY DEACTIVATED HAHA GET REKT

- mod B

4,306 notes

🕶 crossroads-acolyte-deactivated

My dad's been really terrible lately... at least i have the dolls to comfort me

🔁 🕶 crossroads-acolyte-deactivated

Their song is so beautiful... if only i could join them...

🔁 🕶 crossroads-acolyte-deactivated

Elysium, the silent sighed lost lullaby

Elysian night

Read more

2 notes

🤵 averagealbioncitizen Follow 🔁 voodoopunk-official Follow

💀 voodoopunk-official Follow

With great agony, we announce the passing of one of our dear members. Mod A, also known as Acolyte Amelia, you will be missed.

- Mod B

🔁 🤵 averagealbioncitizen Follow

I KNEW THOSE DOLLS WERE PROBLEMATIC FROM THE START UGH... don't support the voodoopunks they're lying to you #killthedolls #antivoodoopunk

🔁 💀 voodoopunk-official Follow

Amelia didn't die because of the dolls dumbass you're just using her death as a means to further your stupid political agenda smh 🙄

- Mod B

🔁 🤵 averagealbioncitizen Follow

AND YOU AREN'T???

36.8K notes

🚫 destroy-da-dollz-remade Follow

I FUCKING TOLD YOU GUYS

#anti voodoopunk #kill the dolls #i fucking said it from the start but y'all didn't LISTEN

0 notes

🤵‍♀️ kate-the-nyarrator

can anyone even hear me

[rose24207]

Shadows and Sunlight

Summary: In the dangerous world of Lando Norris, a ruthless mafia boss, his kind-hearted wife and their contrasting children create a family full of warmth, love, and the delicate balance between light and dark.

Genre: Mafia!Dad!Lando, fluff

TW: Mafia

A/N: I’m making a „series" with the storyline of the Norris Mafia Family and each story is something different! I’m excited for this! English is not my first language. I hope you Enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Mastesrlist

Lando Norris had earned a reputation as a ruthless mafia boss, a man feared by rivals and respected by his men.

But behind the iron gates of his sprawling estate, he was also a father to two children who couldn’t have been more different, and the husband to a woman who was his complete opposite in every way.

His wife, Y/N, was kindness personified—a bright light in the dark world he inhabited. She treated everyone, from staff to strangers, with a warmth that left them in awe.

Where Lando was sharp edges and stern gazes, she was soft smiles and comforting words. And somehow, their contrasting worlds had collided and formed a family.

Amelia, their ten-year-old daughter, was her father's mini-me. Sharp, fearless, and observant, she followed Lando around like a shadow, absorbing his every move. She had his fiery determination and knack for strategy, often shocking the staff with her maturity and assertiveness.

On the other hand, eight-year-old Jacob took after his mother. He was gentle, empathetic, and preferred books over confrontations, always seeking ways to help others.

It was a typical morning in the Norris household. The sun streamed through the tall windows of the kitchen as Y/N hummed while flipping pancakes.

Jacob was perched on a stool, helping his mother by carefully arranging fruit on a plate.

“Bananas go on the side, not on top,” Jacob instructed seriously.

“Yes, Chef,” Y/N teased, winking at her son, who beamed.

Amelia entered the kitchen, her face scrunched in annoyance. “Dad said I can’t come to the meeting today,” she announced, plopping onto a chair.

“That’s because you’re ten,” Y/N replied, placing a plate in front of her.

“But I could learn so much,” Amelia argued, glaring at her pancakes like they were the source of her problems.

“You’re not learning about mafia business at ten years old,” Y/N said firmly, ruffling Amelia’s hair.

Lando strolled into the kitchen, dressed in his usual black suit. “Amelia, what did I say about whining?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

Amelia crossed her arms but didn’t push further. She idolized her father too much to openly disobey him.

Instead, she muttered, “Fine, but it’s unfair.”

Y/N placed a cup of coffee in front of Lando, kissing his cheek. “Morning, grumpy.”

He smirked, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Morning, sunshine.”

Jacob giggled at the exchange, while Amelia rolled her eyes. “Ugh, you guys are so mushy.”

Later that day, Lando had a rare afternoon off and spent it in his study. Y/N was in the garden with Jacob, helping him plant flowers, while Amelia hovered nearby, asking her father endless questions about the world he shielded her from.

“Why do you have so many guards?” Amelia asked, watching as two men patrolled the perimeter.

“To keep you safe,” Lando replied without looking up from his paperwork.

“But who’s going to protect you?” she shot back.

Lando glanced at her, surprised by the question. “That’s my job, Amelia.”

Before she could respond, Y/N entered the room, her presence like a calming breeze.

“Come on, Amelia. Help Jacob and me with the garden.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Y/N said, smiling but firm.

Amelia sighed dramatically but obeyed, leaving her father to chuckle softly.

————

Dinner was a lively affair. The family sat around the grand dining table, the staff quietly serving dishes while the children shared their day’s adventures.

“I planted sunflowers!” Jacob announced proudly.

“They’re crooked,” Amelia teased.

“They’re unique,” Jacob corrected, sticking his tongue out.

Y/N laughed, gently nudging Amelia. “Be nice to your brother.”

Lando observed the scene with a rare softness in his eyes.

Despite his cold exterior and the dangerous life he led, moments like these reminded him of what he was fighting for.

As the evening wound down, Y/N found Lando in their bedroom, leaning against the balcony railing, staring into the night.

“You’re quiet,” she said, joining him.

“Just thinking,” he replied, pulling her close.

“About the kids. About us.”

She smiled, resting her head on his chest. “You’re doing a good job, you know. Even if Amelia’s determined to take over the world.”

He chuckled. “She gets that from me.”

“And Jacob gets his kindness from you, too,” Y/N added softly.

Lando raised an eyebrow. “I think he gets that from you.”

Y/N smiled but didn’t argue. “We’re lucky, Lando. No matter how messy things get, we’ve built something good here.”

He nodded, kissing the top of her head. “We have. And I’ll protect it with everything I’ve got.”

In the Norris household, the balance of light and shadow, softness and strength, created a family unlike any other.

Thank you for reading!

[cupophrogs]

Uhh I gave Ami another bestie

Full sheet

(Also the mini comic is heavily inspired by this)

[herejusttosufferalong]

"Do you kiss on the first date?"

Get it girl 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

Another ship to ruin my life with

[watchoutforthefanfics]

Ticking Love Bomb (Part Four) || Eleventh Doctor × gn! Reader

Part 1, 2, 3, 4...

Taglist: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @solitairemvp @idontevenknowwth @this-is-me-lolol @rokosbasalisk

Summary: Your adventure with the Doctor and the Ponds takes a harsh turn when it seems you're targeted with a potion. A love potion, specifically the type where you fall in love with whoever's eyes you met first after "drinking" it. But what if you're already in love with him?

TWS: aliens, space, references of guns, smoke, unrequited love (but not really), self sacrificial attitudes, and purely oblivious people. Also, just a touch of angst (typical of a love confession).

Amy narrowed her eyes at you, stalling a bit behind the wandering Doctor, "Doctor-"

In a breath, she grabbed your arm and pulled you up to the other two. Her mouth in a flattened line, she spoke, "Doctor."

He was spinning around, touching lights and walls, like it'd help him find the TARDIS, and you could kinda hear him muttering. Your brain was fuzzy, so you couldn't exactly make it out, but it still somehow captured your attention. He, however, seemed not to notice Amy.

"Doctor."

He blinked, stopping his spinning and focusing on the two of you, "Amelia?"

"You know what could save them?" Amy asked, her tone harsher than you'd expected but she knew something you didn't.

The Doctor paused, looking between the two of them with a puzzled look, "Of course I do… What are you on about?"

Amy leveled a glare at him, and you felt something shift there. As the Doctor seemed to read her face, he backed up slightly before his face contouring into something less familiar to you, "Amelia, no."

You furrowed your brows, "What's-"

"Doctor," she spoke, "-all you have to do is-"

"Pond," he spoke, his tone more abrupt than you'd known, "-stop it."

"No," she countered and her grip tightened slightly on your arm, "-no, I won't because it really is that simple-"

"Amelia."

"-and if you just stopped being an arse, you would see it! It's been right in front of you-"

"Amelia."

"-you just need to say it. That's all you have to do-"

Before the Doctor could respond, or Amy could even finish, red lights started shining down the hallways -glaringly bright.

On top of that, the intercom buzzed to life, "It has been brought to my attention that the stowaways are still aboard. Due to this… neglect, I've decided to up the protocol. Change the search to I09-65, and I want priority on our little test dummy. Stay alert."

Your eyes darted among the now-limited doorways, and the shine of red light gleamed across the metal.

"That can't be good," Rory spoke, hand tightly laced with Amy's free one -since she was still latched to your side

"She's…" you opened your mouth, "-She's after me, isn't she?"

The Doctor paused, eyeing you with the most gentle of gazes like you would snap in the wind if he said anything too harsh.

"Y/N-"

"No," you hummed, shaking your head, "-you can't tell me otherwise, Doctor… If all she wants is me-"

"That's not-" the Doctor huffed, "-stop."

"It would let you guys get away," you answered, voice steady, "-even just for a second longer."

"Not happening."

His tone was stern, the kind that you imagine rumbled through streets, and you saw it then, the Doctor's fierce loyalty. What some would call 'the Oncoming Storm', but this time… it was directed at you.

"Doctor, I'm just-" you exhaled, shakily, "-you don't have a plan. They experimented on me, right? They want to see some results. They wouldn't just kill me because-"

"They would," he snapped, tone harsh and something in your chest hitched, "-and they will."

Rory added, a little bit unheard honestly, "It's really not safe, Y/N."

Amy nodded, her hand tightening on your arm as if that could stop you.

"So, all of us getting captured is safe? You don't- Ugh, okay, listen, I will be a distraction -it gives you some time to find the TARDIS-"

"Y/N," he exhaled heavily through his nose, "-We can do that with you."

"No," you shook your head, tears heavy in your voice, "-you can't, Doctor. Look around you- all the doors are sealing, and you can hear the march of footsteps."

"So, what?" Amy answered, her hand leaving your side in exasperation, "We will find the TARDIS either way, you don't need to-"

There was a chance there, as all of them fretted -the Doctor's eyes set stony, Rory's hands wringing nervously, and Amy pacing as she spoke. 

The silver doors behind everyone were seeping to a close, the door where the thrum of patterned footsteps leaked through. It was good for them, having intergalactic steel, or whatever it was, between them and the enemy.

But, you knew something that was better than that.

In a breath, you shot through the group, fingers grazing upon his tweed jacket just for a second longer. 

How did you pull the Indiana Jones move? You'd never know.

Sliding through on your knees, you were firmly on the other side of the door and if you focused enough, you could hear them.

"Y/N!" 

"Why did you-"

"We're not leaving you, dumbass."

It was muffled by the thick metal-like substance and the seal evidently shut.

Wait, their room was completely sealed too. And it was incredibly small, maybe built to be like sanitization access between areas, just based on the connection. Fuck.

How would you even-

You heard the footsteps become louder and you could swear your hands were shaking and your heart was beating out of your-

Beating out of your chest.

"Doctor," you said, back up against the metal, "-can you get out of the other side?"

"You can't just slide through the door and just-"

"Can you force the door open, Doctor? Answer me."

There was a pause, and a heavy sigh, his voice got farther away, "With time, yes. But we don't have that. I'd have to-" he sputtered, "I'm going to need some extra power for the sonic, there's probably an energy core nearby, but we're sealed."

"So, if you had more power, you'd-"

"Hypothetically, yes," he cut you off, and you could practically hear the frantic combing through his hair, the familiar pace of his shoes echoing in your brain, "-but I wouldn't be able to access one, I'd have to search the whole ship- It’s just not-"

"Okay, okay," you hummed, "-I get it. You're sealed in, and need a way out."

"We need you to not separate yourself," Amy sliced back, tone unnervingly calm.

"Hush, Amy," you exhaled, "I think… I think I've got a plan."

"Could," you paused, "Could the sonic draw power from an explosion?"

"An explosion?" He parroted back, tone confused for a moment, "-where are you going to get an explosion? There's no-" his voice faded to silence.

"Y/N, no, don't even think about it," he spoke his tone direct, and yet as the footsteps roamed closer…you still felt compelled.

This was what a companion of the Doctor was supposed to do, right? Protect the raggedy man, just like he protected you. He hated it, but it didn't mean it was any less true.

"Doctor," you spoke, tone a touch shaky and voice a little spent, "-I need to tell you something."

[pablitogavii]

Panic

Summary: You help one of your friends who suspect she is different, but when Pablo finds the positive test in your shared bathroom, he starts to panic.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Reader

Warnings: none :)

"Oh my God! I'm pregnant! Like actually pregnant!" Amelia said as tears fell down her cheeks and you held her hand reassuring her that she was not alone.

She was in an abusive relationship for a whole year and when she finally was determined to leave, this happens...it was valid that she was sad and helpless.

"I don't want it! He will never change! And he won't let me do an abortion...he will kill me if I even mention it.." she sobbed and you took the test leaving it on the washing machine before helping her up and taking her to the living room to calm down and drink some water.

A few days pass...

Pablo was packing for his next big match in Madrid, when he noticed the test rested on the washing machine thinking he was crazy but those two solid lines made his stomach flip.

He googled "how many lines means she is pregnant?" (ofc he did :) and seeing that it was two his jaw kept clenching as he stared at it in disbelief.

His girl was pregnant...and she didn't tell him. Why?? Is she scared of his reaction?

He heard you come home from Uni and he hid the test inside his bathroom purse before walking to the living room to meet.

"Ugh..my feet hurt so much" you say falling onto the couch before smiling wide when you noticed him at the door of your shared bedroom.

"How are you amor?" Pablo carefully asked thinking that maybe she was going to tell him now but when she just smiled saying she was alright he knew she was planning on keeping it a secret...but for how long does she think that would work?

"You sure? No sickness?" he poked and she gave him a questioning look wondering what's gotten into him all of the sudden.

"Not really...I mean yesterday morning I was s little sick " she said not really seeing the significance of this but all Pablo registered was "morning sickness" his stomach clenching.

Pablo sat down and she moved to rest her head on his shoulder and he pulled her closer gently kissing the top of her head. He was scared and no doubt shocked but even though it wasn't planned, he would never be angry with her..and would never stop loving her.

"Are you packed for tomorrow?" she said sadly and he nodded reassuring her that he will be back home before she even notices he was gone.

"Impossible Pablito...I'm gonna miss you every hour you are gone..both of us" she said and his face turned serious while she chuckled.

"Me and Pablo 2.0" she said pointing at the big bear Pablo got her for Valentine's Day to cuddle with whenever he had to travel.

"I still give better cuddles than him!" Pablo said proudly and she giggled straddling his lap and kissing his lips a few times before they hugged.

You watched a show for a few hours before it was time for bed since Pablo had to wake up early to meet his teammates and you were really tired from a long day at the Uni.

"Amor? Is there no more pickles?" you ask from the kitchen and Pablo got up walking up to you. Were you just having cravings??

"Um..yeah there are some spears in the fridge. Why?" he asked and she chuckled opening the fridge and taking the jar out.

"So I can eat some duh?"she said biting one and he felt more nervous with every passing moment...maybe if he shows that he know, she won't be scared to tell him the truth.

"You craving them?" he suggested and she just shrugged nodding her head wondering what got him so curious about her eating habits.

"Let's go to bed, mi campeon" she said putting the jar away and they left. She was sleeping peacefully while Pablo could barely stay motionless...he was going to become a dad...like it was scary but also some part of him only wanted that with you.

Barcelona won the game in Madrid and Pablo was coming back tomorrow. He couldn't really contribute much on the pitch considering that his mind was elsewhere but he was glad that didn't cost his team.

"Hola, bonita. How are you feeling? Have you been sick again?" Pablo asked on a FaceTime and you reassure him that everything was fine apart form how much you hated sleeping alone.

"Congrats on a win, my cariño. You looked a little distracted during the game, everything okay?" you ask since Pedri did tell you that Pablo was acting strange the whole trip being quiet and searching some private information online.

"Everything is fine, don't worry about me amor. I've just been a little tired lately. Can't have all games be perfect.." he said and she nodded deciding to let it go for now knowing that if something was seriously going on, Pablo would tell her about it.

On the day that he was coming back, you promised Amelia to go to the abortion center with her. She needed someone there and being her best friend you promised to be her support.

She was still having bruises barely healed form the last time baby's father 'got angry' so it was understandable why she didn't want this to be her life but it was still a difficult choice.

Pablo arrived to the Camp trying to call you numerous times but your ringer was off since you wanted to be fully present for your friend who was getting checked by the doctor.

"Dónde estás querida!?" he said to himself after leaving another voice mail and Pedri reminded him that he can use Snap Maps to pinpoint your location.

He never really does so, but you also never dodge his calls for hours..he was worried and checked to see that you were at the nearby Abortion Center.

Abortion Center..

Pablo started to panic grabbing Pedri's hand and pulling him to the parking lot before telling him to drive as fast as he could. He needed to get there on time..he needed to be there for you..to tell you that you don't have to do this because of him.

"Santa Mierda Pablito! Is she.." Pedri asked after reading the sign and Pablo just rushed out of the car without a reply yelling your name on top of his lungs.

"Ai chico, you can't be yelling! This is a hospital!" one of the older nurses said and he apologized begging her to tell him if she saw you while showing her your picture rested on his arm from his phone.

"Yeah, she went to the second floor" woman said

"Muchas gracias!" Pablo quickly said before rushing up the stairs again yelling your name and you heard him from one of the rooms when Amelia was already done.

"Go, I'm okay.." she smiled and you nodded walking outside seeing Gavi's tearful face meet yours.

"Pablo? Que pasa? What are you doing here?" you ask drying his tears afraid that something terrible happened form the way he looked like.

"Amor, I know..it's okay. I'm not angry...I know we are young, but we love each other and we will figure it all out together...I don't have to travel as much..I won't leave you hanging, I promise...just please don't let them kill our baby!" he held her waist pulling her in and she felt her heard melting despite the fact that this was all absurd.

"Pablo.." you tried to speak but he kissed to shut you up.

"I'm not pregnant Pablo!" you push him back a little having to say that since he was definitely acting crazy.

"What?? But...but your test in the bathroom..and why are you here then?" he said and you smiled shaking your head realizing that you forgot to toss away Amelia's test in all the craziness.

"I'm here with a friend..it was her test...plus you bought be tampons a few days ago because I am on my period, idiot!" you chuckled and Pablo relaxed running his hand through his hair before cheering loudly being sushed again by nurses.

"You are on your period! That's right! Oh Díos mio!" Pablo said and you laughed pulling him into a hug before raising you off your feet and twirling you around.

Amelia's mom came to pick her up and she thanked you for being there with her before you and Pablo went to Pedri's car to get home.

"Okay seriously guys! Are you pregnant or not!? Is that why you were googling baby bottles and best pacifiers online?" Pedri said the moment we came in and you burst out in laughter while Pablo blushed in embarrassment.

"I'm not pregnant. Pablito got some things mixed up Pepi..please drive us home" you say and the boy sighed turning the engine on and dropping you off in front of your apartment building.

"So you were googling baby things??" you ask while you were cuddled up in the living room by the fire drinking some chocolate milk Pablo loved so much.

"Stooop! I thought you were pregnant so I saved some ideas.." he said and you smiled kissing his cheek really feeling better that you have a man who would not leave you alone no matter the situation.

"Can I see it?" you ask and he groans pulling out his phone showing you some pictures he saved on his camera roll.

"All these are for boys? Were you expecting a son, Gavi??" you tease and he tossed the phone to the side ticking your sides before laying you down and hovering above you.

"Don't test me or I might get my son after all.." he smirked kissing your neck before both of you giggled at the whole situation.

Hope you liked it! :))

[squoxle]

✏ TNAIT: Pilot l.at fanfic

➢ pairing: none | wc: 400 | cw: profanity, jokes of death | plot: intro

Not to sound like an overdramatic, hormonal teenager, but my life is so over.

Everything was perfect. I had my friends, my prestige, and my parents' respect. I was on the path to obtaining my degree and enjoying every minute of my college years. But since the beginning of this stupid semester, it has been one thing after another.

Initially, I spent hours studying my ass off, but outside of that I never had time for anything else...

Wake up. Study. Practice. Go home. Study some more. Go to sleep.

Fucking Groundhog Day...every day...

So to keep me sane, I started to do whatever I wanted and my coursework was put on the back burner. Sure, I've been able to actually hang out with my friends, but my grades look like shit.

And midterm reports will be uploaded today. My parents are gonna fucking bury me alive.

Introducing the small friend group that will likely attend my funeral.

[ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ]

ɴᴀᴍᴇ: Abigail Amelia Grant (or just Abby)

ᴀɢᴇ: 19...until August

ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ: Beautiful, blonde, perfect body

ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Sometimes toxic, mostly sweet, lowkey in love with Jake -- a.k.a. your number 1 best friend

ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴜꜱ: Horny...

[ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ]

ɴᴀᴍᴇ: Xoey (can't remember her middle name) García

ᴀɢᴇ: 20

ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ: Long chocolate brown hair with bleached bangs, big brown eyes with a mole directly under the right one

ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Fiesty, can come off as bitchy, but that's just the way she is -- she also had a threesome with Jake.

ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴜꜱ: I honestly don't know...she's kinda hard to read.

[ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ]

ɴᴀᴍᴇ: Nova Diamond Moore

ᴀɢᴇ: 18

ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ: Curly hair, face like a baby (also her nickname), and thick in the humblest way

ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Sweet as hell and usually pretty silly, until it's time to be serious of course

ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴜꜱ: Hungry -- she asked if we could go out for ice cream later...too bad I have a family dinner to attend.

[ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ]

ɴᴀᴍᴇ: Janice Fatima Jones (sometimes we call her JJ)

ᴀɢᴇ: 21

ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ: Shoulder-length wavy black hair, can't really distinguish her ethnicity...but I know her dad is white

ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Can be uncomfortably formal at times, but she's usually pretty chill. Don't expect to find her at a party though, her dad is kinda the dean of this university.

ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴜꜱ: Neutral -- that's what she said when I asked lol

[ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ]

ɴᴀᴍᴇ: Sim Jaeyun (we just call him Jake)

ᴀɢᴇ: 21 until November

ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ: Cute, sexy puppy -- Abby's words, not mine.

ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Goofy, sweet, and UGH! I can't even say it -- Abby's words, not mine.

ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴜꜱ: Missing me -- Abby's words, not mine.

Well...hopefully whatever happens tonight doesn't actually end my life...

(I know it's a day early, but I couldn't wait any longer :\)

Thanks for reading this little intro to my series. [Series Masterlist]

Click this link to go to my main masterlist and stay tuned for the next episodes.

CURRENT TAGLIST: @chlorinecake @addictedtohobi @nikisdubblchococake @laylasbunbunny @urfavberry @antonitty @billiondollarworth @meowbini

[theshrikeandcanary]

seeing the notification that i got tagged immediately made my day 10x better.

Tattoo Artist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings: unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), mutual masturbation, cowgirl position, PTSD episode, suggestive themes, canon-typical swearing, canon-typical violence

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: Part Eight of Ink & Needle

Simon's pleasure turns to worry. Amelia wants to know Simon's intentions with you. Soap makes an unexpected call.

Chapter Seven

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist

Happiness is subjective.

What makes someone happy? Is it the amount of money they have? Is it the first sip of freshly made tea? Is it the sound of summer rain or the smooth pages of a freshly bought book?

It could be all of those things. And it could be none of them.

Simon knows what makes him happy.

Cracking open a fresh bottle of ink for the first time. The sharpening of the end of a charcoal stick to use in his sketchbook. Johnny’s terrible fucking jokes that Simon pretends to hate but silently loves. And…you.

Simon has you. You are his, and no one can take that away from him. It’s warm under the sheets. Perfect. And that’s because you’re here, with him, just as you’re supposed to be.

Which is strange since Simon hasn’t seen you in three days. And somehow, you’re snuggled up next to him, snoozing beneath the covers. He doesn’t recall you coming over last night, but maybe he had one too many drinks. Maybe it slipped his mind and he was half-awake when you finally arrived back into his arms.

Simon shifts, the bedding moving around him as he turns his face to the left, inhaling deeply. The familiar scent of you seeps into his nostrils, flooding his lungs and senses with peaceful contentment.

This is home. This is where he should be, and where you ought to stay.

Simon sighs heavily, a smile forming on his lips as you respond to him, snuggling into his side. To make room, Simon lifts the arm nearest you, stretching the ache out before slipping it between you and the bed. He drapes it over your shoulders, pulling you even closer to him. Your answer is to rest your leg over his, and for your hand to fall softly against his bare chest. Simon immediately grabs it, bringing your knuckles up to his lips.

He kisses each bone gently before returning your palm to its previous position. You hum softly, the sound pleasing, blood rushing to his groin with his need for you.

This is all Simon wants. This is all he needs. You are in his bed. You are his woman.

Finally. Fucking finally.

Happiness. Simon requires nothing else.

Your fingers draw slow circles over his chest. They trace his tattoos there, following the lines and dips in a lazy, unhurried fashion that lull Simon back into the state between wakefulness and sleep. Simon’s eyelids flutter, then close, reveling in your touch.

Soothed and pliant, your hand travels lower to his stomach. There it pauses to draw little circles, moving back up to his chest and then down again, moving lower to his pelvis, to his—

Simon groans as your hand wraps around the base of his cock. “What are you up to, love?”

Your reply is a muffled giggle, and to stroke him once, twice, three times. Simon’s fingers dig into your skin, pushing for an answer with a possessive grip to your waist. You turn your face into him, lips finding his flesh, brushing against skin as you continue to work him with your hand.

Simon’s eyelids open slightly, and he watches you through his pale lashes. There is a soft, mischievous smile on your lips and your hair is a tousled mess that he wants to run his fingers through. You’re so beautiful like this. And all fucking his.

“I’m pleasing my man,” you murmur, thumb brushing over the head.

There might be sheets covering up the sight of you palming him, but Simon doesn’t need to see to understand your touch. While you’re not working quickly, there is purpose to each stroke, and it’s becoming harder and harder for Simon to ignore the growing pleasure in the base of his spine.

My man is what you said. Simon belongs to you as much as you belong to him. A deep, primal part of Simon flares with pride. He needs to claim you, to fucking ruin you until all you know is his name.

Simon shifts his arm from across your shoulders to over your hips. His hand slides across the curve of your ass, dips between your slightly spread legs to tease the entrance of your pussy with the tip of his fingers. Your little inhale is sweet. Sugar-laced. And Simon lets it rot his teeth.

He fingers slide upward, circle your clit in little circles until your strokes faulter and your hips buck against him. Simon adjusts his hand position so he can fuck you with his fingers as he toys with your clit.

Together. The two of you are together. Your hand continues to palm him, pulling blooms of cum from the slit. While you’re pleasing him, Simon is more attuned to your body surrendering to him, allowing his fingers inside, stretching and prepping that pussy for his cock.

Simon is going to take you. And he is going to fucking enjoy it.

Your body shivers, and you bite down on your bottom lip, stifling the little moan that threatens to leave your mouth. That small sound is delicious even though he’d rather hear you scream for him.

The muscles in Simon’s arms and legs are coiled tight, ready to push you onto your back and spread you wide. He’s going to make a goddamn mess of you.

But it is not Simon that makes the first move. It is not Simon that takes the initiative.

You sit up completely, swinging one leg over his waist to straddle him. You settle yourself in his lap, his cock resting against the inside of your thigh with silent impatience. Instinct has Simon reaching for your hips and thighs, intent on gripping and massaging the skin there.

Yet he does not have the chance.

You are lifting your legs up, bending the knees, resting your feet flat on the bed. Confused at first, Simon’s hands fall away, hovering near your shins. But that confusion quickly disappears when you open for him fully, revealing yourself entirely to his gaze.

Simon licks his lips wanting to taste every bit of your pussy. That stickiness needs to be on his lips and chin. His mouth deserves to worship you, and for you to receive such prayer. You open like a blooming flower, your head tilted slightly to the side as you watch him.

Your gaze is all primal need and wanton lust. It fuels his own desire, charges it to a blistering height. With one hand on your knee, Simon reaches between your spread thighs. You whimper as his fingers run over your slickness. It collects and drips off the tips of Simon’s fingers. Greedily, Simon brings his drenched fingers to his lips, sucking them clean one by one.

“Gonna give me what I want?” murmurs Simon, resting his freshly cleaned fingers on his chest.

“Asking me to sit on your face?” you tease, flexing your hips slightly.

Simon grins. “Breakfast in bed? You’re too sweet to me.” His hand on your knee slides up, grips the thigh, pulls.

You tumble into his arms and Simon snakes his arms around your waist to keep you from escaping. Laughing, you lightly beat on his chest. But you are caught, unable to break free from Simon’s ironclad strength. You submit to him, and Simon flares with pride. Everything he needs is right here.

With your forearms on his chest, you lean forward and present your mouth. Simon eagerly takes your lips, not caring that both of you need to brush your teeth. You smile against his mouth and then draw back a bit. You look just as you did before while curled up next to him, all gentle mischievousness.

With palms flat against his chest, you push back into a seated position. You reach down between your bodies and wrap your fingers around his cock, flexing your hips upward. With just the slightest shift of your hips, the head of Simon’s cock presses to your entrance.

Simon’s hands immediately dart out to grab hold of those hips. In moments, you’re sinking down on him, parting, opening up and welcoming him inside. You’re tight and wet and goddamn perfect as more of him disappears.

The muscles in Simon’s jaw clench, and his left hand leaves your hip to run through his hair. To—

Run through his hair? His…hair.

No mask. No balaclava. You’ve never seen him without it. You haven’t—

“Fuck,” Simons groans loudly as you push down on his chest to flex your hips up and back down on him. You lift, roll, go back down. Again. Again. And again, until you’ve taken every fucking inch of him.

Forget the fucking mask. He’ll deal with it later. Right now, you’re his priority.

Your hands on his chest slide upward and stop at the base of Simon’s throat. You’re not choking him, just pressing on his collarbone, using Simon as an anchor while you fuck yourself on his cock.

Even if you were choking him, Simon could give a shit. Break his goddamn collarbone. Choke him out. He’d love to see you try. You wouldn’t have the strength to do it, but watching you like this above him, riding him and using him for your pleasure is its own sick fantasy.

Simon could get used to this. If this is how you want to start the day, he’ll take it.

“Say my name,” growls Simon, his fingers digging into your flesh. “Say it.”

His dick is glossy, disappearing and reappearing with every bounce and roll of your hips. There is no condom, and that too his strange, like the missing balaclava and the fact that you are in his bed this morning.

Your head falls back, exposing your neck. “Ghost,” you moan, and Simon freezes.

Ghost. Ghost.

You called him Ghost at Riot Room. You called him Ghost when his cock was buried deep inside you. You called him Ghost when your orgasm sent you shaking in his lap, squeezing him until his own end came.

But you don’t call him Ghost now. You call him Simon. He told you to call him that now, and you have ever since.

Your nails dig into his skin. Cutting. Stinging.

“Ghost,” you whimper. This time, there is pain in the way you say his name.

Something is wrong.

Your nails drag away from his throat and to his chest, leaving behind jagged lines of red. Heat flares, but he’s not focused on it. Simon keeps one hand on your hip and pushes himself up to a more seated position. He longer cares or is interested in you fucking yourself on him.

He says your name, one hand reaching for you. There is no pleasure on your face. No joy. There are tears and your eyes are wide open, bloodshot.

The one hand he has touching you sinks into your skin, the flesh melting underneath it like sludge. Simon blinks, not understanding. Why are you melting? Why are you fucking melting?

Simon says your name again, sitting up completely, his arm going to your back to support your rapidly dissolving weight. Because that is what happens. Like ice cream in the sun, your skin disintegrates, and Simon cannot hold on to you.

You slip through his fingers.

“No,” whispers Simon. Then, louder, “No!”

Simon continues to call out to you, almost screaming, his voice laced with agony. It drips from him, but you are unresponsive. Sinking, sinking into murk.

It is growing dark and Simon shoves himself forward in an attempt to salvage the last remaining vestiges of you.

But you are not there. He does not cradle you in his arms. Simon cradles a sniper rifle. All black and shiny. Polished.

There is no bedroom and no warm bed. It is cold, and his breath becomes steam in the air. Simon knows this place. It’s Chicago. And in Chicago, Simon kneeled on the top of a building with this very weapon in hand. At the end of the barrel, in Simon’s sight, is where Hassan and Johnny should be.

But the building is blocked, obscured by a massive figure crouching on the ledge like a stone gargoyle. Simon stares at a skull face. A reaper. Grinning.

It’s teeth and bone face are white and shiny, but between those pearly incisors are flecks of red. Dried blood.

Death grins at Simon.

Mocks him.

The reaper reaches out with one boney hand, gripping the end of the barrel. It opens its mouth, flashing its teeth, then bites down on the firing end. It gnaws on the metal. Chewing, chewing like its teeth are steel.

Johnny is across the street being tossed around by Hassan.

This reaper needs to fucking move. Simon needs to take the shot.

You can’t save Johnny.

But Simon did. He knows he did. This is the past. It’s already happened.

You can’t save him. You can’t save Gaz. You can’t save Price.

Bloody salvia drips around the reaper’s teeth, running down the length of the barrel.

You can’t save them. Just like you couldn’t save your brother. Just like you couldn’t save your mother.

Simon’s finger tightens on the trigger.

“Lt. The window,” crackles Johnny’s voice over the comm channel.

The reaper chomp chomp chomps. Grins.

“The window!”

Dead brother. Dead mother. Dead friends.

Simon pulls back on the trigger.

The shot is an explosion. The back of the reaper’s head blows outward only to become a raging inferno. Flames lick upward, so high it seems impossible. Everything around Simon burns. His back and arms ache, throb, the old wounds opening up to remember just how he got them.

Before the towering inferno is a dark figure. It’s just a man’s back at first. An outline. A silhouette. But he turns, keeps turning, and Simon sees the figure for who it is.

It’s him. It’s fucking him.

The handle of Simon’s favorite knife sticks out of the man’s chest. The man grins, and blood stains his teeth. He wobbles, stumbles, moving closer to the precipice.

This man does not deserve a name. Simon will not speak it, not even silently.

Time pauses in suspense as the man falls backward into the flames. Simon’s back and arms are screaming their own song of sorrow as the nerves in his skin singe. This is the moment. This is the hour. This memory is a brand. A tattoo.

A fucking swamp.

Simon smells charred skin, but he’s not sure if it’s his own or his fallen enemy. The flames rage, widen. Over the crackling of the fire, he hears a gunshot. Then another. Then, another. The sound warps, lengthens, and the flames become smooth like Simon is seeing them through a fogged mirror.

The shot comes again but it’s—it’s not that.

The sound repeats and Simon frowns.

It’s…a dog?

Simon blinks. The flames recede as if suctioned through a small hole. Simon blinks again.

He is staring at a wall. A familiar wall. It’s Simon’s bedroom. He’s in his flat above the tattoo parlor. He is in his bedroom. He is in his bed.

Simon tells himself this. Repeats it.

His cheeks sting and his eyes ache.

A sweeping wave of anxiety rushes up Simon’s back and into his chest, tightening his throat. The sound that escapes Simon is cracked, a choked sob. He leans his elbows on his knees and places his hands over his face.

Breathing. Hyperventilating. Wanting to scream. Needing to rage.

Bravo’s wet nose presses against the underside of Simon’s bicep. Simon does not respond. He does not react. Bravo whines, and forces his way in, sliding his large head under Simon’s arm to rest against his chest.

These episodes are always the worst, the ones that creep up when Simon least expects it. But that isn’t the only thing bothering him. Simon hasn’t relived the moment his entire career ended for almost a year. That memory doesn’t—shouldn’t—bother him anymore. Yet, something triggered it.

He doesn’t want to admit it to himself. He doesn’t want to entertain the idea of why. It’s no coincidence that it started with you and ended with him. That man is dead. Fucking gone. And yet Simon thought he saw him on Monday morning. Just loitering across the street from where you and Simon were enjoying breakfast.

At the time, Simon dismissed it, believing his mind was playing some cruel joke.

Simon’s fingers drag over his scalp and then down his face. Sighing, he finally gives in, falls back against the bed.

Bravo snuggles in close and Simon drapes his arm over the dog’s back. “I’m ace, Bravo. Give me a minute.”

Simon blocks out everything, focusing on steadying his breathing. He doesn’t move again until his hands stop shaking.

Groaning, Simon sits up again, and Bravo leaps off the bed, heading for the open bedroom door. While he aches as he always does, some of the usual pain is numb, like his body is more concerned about his psyche than his physical ailments.

Pushing through the soreness, Simon starts his morning as he always does, moving through his routine as a way to steady his mind. It works…enough. Some of that lingering anxiousness burrows down into his bones. He’ll likely be on edge all fucking day.

It’s Thursday, and Simon hasn’t seen you since Monday morning.

He’s been busy, but he also doesn’t have your damn phone number. If he were still SAS, he’d have your number before you’ve even given it to him. Simon is trying to be better than that. Some things are just habit like when he broke into Riot Room the next morning after you ran from him. Simon was ready to hunt you down and drag you to his bed.

While a piece of him would fucking bark at the opportunity to chase you down, Simon knows better. He needs to do all of this differently. He needs to be careful. To not scare you away or be too overbearing.

In the kitchen, Simon frowns down at his dining table. It’s covered in torn out pages from his sketchbook. After work, he stays up late creating design after design, not particularly liking any of them. He wants them to be perfect for you, but none of them stand out to him, and your approval is the only thing he’s after.

Turning his back on them, Simon glances at his phone, checking the time. It’s still plenty early before he needs to officially open the shop. There is still time for him to go see you.

Simon taps his knuckles against the wood before making a decision.

Fuck it. He’s going.

“Bravo! Get your leash!” calls Simon over his shoulder. Bravo’s nails clack gently against the floor as he retrieves his leash, bringing it to Simon moments later.

The autumn air is cool but not overly so, and the walk to Amelia’s is brief. Amelia is a nice woman, and since going to the pub every Sunday for almost two years, he’s grown to trust her. He’s fixed a few things for her around her house in exchange for vegetables from her garden.

When Simon strides up to Amelia’s front door, he intends to knock, but pauses just before doing so.

It’s early. What the fuck is he doing? Why would you want to see him at this hour?

Bravo whines softly and places a paw against Simon’s thigh. The German Shepard tips his head to the side in question.

“Fucking hell. Fine.” Simon pounds on the door, dropping his hand into his pocket as he waits for an answer.

There is silence, and it only stretches, the seconds ticking by.

Frowning, Simon knocks again. After waiting a full minute, worry slithers into the pit of his stomach.

Why is no one answering the damn door?

Not questioning his next actions, Simon tries the handle. It turns easily, giving way to him.

The door is unlocked.

The door is unlocked and no one is answering.

Simon stares into the silent house. His body and mind slide into that military training, transitioning into Ghost fluidly. He sinks down to one knee and unlatches the leash from Bravo’s collar. Bravo senses this change, his own training kicking in.

In a near silent whisper, Simon gives Bravo your name, tells him to find you, and Bravo does just that. His nose goes to the ground immediately, sniffing everything, moving in erratic patterns until finally backtracking to the stairs.

Simon nods, and Bravo ascends with Simon on his heels.

At a shut bedroom door, Bravo sits, staring at Simon. There is a tingling in the tips of Simon’s fingers and a thudding beat in his chest. Slowly, Simon rests his gloved hand on the doorknob. Turning it silently, he opens the door, anticipation coiling like a snake ready to strike.

The first thing Simon notices is how much this space smells like you. The scent of you rushes into his lungs, and the memory of the dream flares, threatening to pull at his resolve. The next thing he notices is the made bed and how there is no one in the room.

On quiet feet, Simon enters, his boots leaving impressions in the carpet.

No signs of a struggle. Nothing tipped over or seemingly out of place. There is not a thing in this room that should have him worrying like he is. This is ridiculous. Absurd.

It was just a dream. Just an episode. She is fine.

Simon walks around the side of the bed. Draped over the back of a chair is the sweater you wore on Monday. Delicately, Simon slips his hand underneath the fabric and lifts it off the chair, bringing the sweater closer to him.

He gives in to indulgence, pressing the soft fabric against the bottom half of his balaclava. He inhales deeply, shudders, everything in him roaring to life, wanting to seek you out yet equally angry that it’s a garment and not the real thing.

This has your scent on it, unlike the torn piece of clothing he still keeps in his dresser drawer. But Simon isn’t going to take your sweater. He doesn’t need to because you’re already here, back in his life, and wanting him. Knowing that is enough, but it doesn’t explain why the front door is unlocked and that no one answered when he knocked.

Simon returns the sweater to its original spot and starts to turn back toward the door. A muffled pounding sound draws his attention to the nearby window. Frowning, Simon walks up to it, looking out into the backyard.

There, kneeling next to a raised flowerbed, is Amelia.

“Fucking hell,” mutters Simon.

He storms out of the room, taking the narrow stairs two at a time, Bravo racing after him. Simon passes through the sitting room and kitchen toward the backdoor. He’s not quiet about his arrival.

The door nearly flies off its hinges as Simon bursts through it. He stands on the top step of the stairs, hands on his hips as Amelia glances up from her work.

“Simon,” she says, a little surprised yet with a pleasantness to her tone that says she’s happy to see him.

“Your front door is unlocked,” he growls.

Amelia waves him off like it’s not a big deal. “Forgot to lock up after the girls left. It’s only been a few minutes.”

A few minutes. Simon missed you by a few bloody minutes?

Simon bites back all the questions he wants to ask. He wants to know where you are and for how long. He needs specifics.

“An unlocked door invites danger,” says Simon through clenched teeth.

“Oh, I’m sure it does,” replies Amelia, placing one hand on the edge of the raised garden bed. She pushes herself up to her feet before Simon can get to her and assist. “You know all about danger. Don’t you?”

Amelia knows about Simon’s time in the military but she doesn’t know specifics. Simon knows plenty about her though. Not because he looked up information but because of all the times at Dancing Faun when she’d talk his ear off. Amelia married rich, popped out a bunch of kids, and then divorced rich.

Simon crosses his arms over his chest. “I came to see—”

“I know who you came to see,” interrupts Amelia. “She’s not here at the moment. Left just this morning with Evie. Off to Cambridge for a few days.” Amelia brushes past Simon as she removes her garden gloves. “Come inside and have some tea while you’re here.”

Bravo sits patiently at the top of the stairs, tail wagging. Amelia pats the German Shepard’s head politely before heading inside. Bravo doesn’t even wait for Simon. He follows Amelia into the house.

Grumbling, Simon heads up the stairs and into the kitchen, shutting the door behind him. He locks it in case Amelia forgets.

Amelia fills the kettle with water and places it on the stove, turning on the heat. Simon doesn’t sit down. He stands awkwardly next to the table.

She notices and nods at a chair. “Sit.” Simon doesn’t. She arches a single eyebrow, and something in Simon obeys without question. Maybe it’s the motherly stare of disapproval, but he complies.

The chair is far too small for his large frame. Simon has to adjust, spreading his legs enough to not feel cramped.

“Why are they in Cambridge?” The question slips out by accident.

Amelia grabs two mugs from a cabinet and shrugs. “If you don’t know, then it isn’t my place to tell you.”

“Amelia—”

“What are your intentions?” Amelia turns around and faces Simon fully.

Simon blinks, completely surprised by her question. “What?” he asks softly.

“I care about Evelyn. And I care about everyone that she cares about. Including the young woman who you’re…entangled with.” Simon understands Amelia’s meaning without her having to spell it out. “I want to know what your intentions are with her.”

Under the table, one of his hands forms a fist.

His intention is to make you his. For you to be his woman. But Simon can’t say that. Amelia is talking about dating. She is talking about marriage and kids and what the future looks like with you.

And in that moment, Simon realizes that he hasn’t thought about any of those things, at least, not in specifics. He’s imagined waking up to you in his bed every morning. He’s thought about what it would be like to have you to come home to at the end of the day.

But for three long years, the only thing Simon has truly thought about, is how to get you back. Now you’re within reach and Simon hasn’t taken a fucking second to even comprehend where or how this will play out.

Has he completely fucked this up? Has he gone about this wrong?

“Your silence is worrying me, Simon.”

Fuck. Was he silent this whole time?

Simon clears his throat. “We’ve only seen each other twice.” It’s a throwaway answer, and Amelia knows it.

She frowns with disappointment. “It’s not my place to tell you why she’s here. That’s for her to tell you when she’s ready.” Amelia sighs. “And I won’t have you mucking her around only to leave her in the mud after you’re done. I won’t have it.”

Tossing you to the side is not an option. Not having you beside him is not an option. Simon will have you. There is no compromise.

The kettle shrieks and, without looking, Amelia grabs the handle and moves it off the stove. “Are we in an understanding, Simon Riley?”

Amelia uses his full name. She only ever calls him Simon.

“We’re clear,” he replies.

Amelia nods. “How do you like your tea?”

“All done.” Simon turns off the gun and sets it down on the metal rolling tray. He takes a wipe to the freshly done tattoo. “Want a photo before I seal it up?” Simon tosses the wipe into the trash can and glances at the man sitting in the chair.

He shakes his head. “I’m good.”

Simon nods and applies the adhesive bandage over the new ink. It’s perfect work, full of color and intricate lines. He rolls back in his chair, removing his gloves and tossing those in the trash as well. The man in the chair, Leo, adjusts in the seat, sitting up.

At the sink, Simon scrubs his hands. Once done, he grabs a few papers about tattoo aftercare while Leo fishes around in his pockets. When Simon presents the packet, Leo hands Simon his credit card.

With the transaction done, Leo exits, and Simon quickly closes up shop, turning the deadbolts and activating the security system. Bravo still snoozes on the couch, completely oblivious to everything happening around him.

Simon grabs the bottle of sanitizer and sprays down the tattoo chair. In his pocket, his phone buzzes. Simon ignores it, continuing to wipe down the chair. The phone cuts off and starts up a few seconds after it ceases.

Again, Simon ignores it.

Again, the phone rings.

“Fucking hell,” mutters Simon, tossing the paper towel into the trash and fishing out his phone.

MacTavish the screen reads. A brief flare of panic rises in Simon’s chest.

He answers the call, bringing the phone up to his ear. “Johnny?”

“LT!” Simon pulls the phone away from his head, grimacing from Soap’s piercingly happy tone.

“Stop fucking shouting,” snaps Simon. He swallows and cracks his neck. “And I’m not a lieutenant anymore.”

On the other end of the line, Soap makes a dismissive noise like he doesn’t quite care. “You get my package?”

“I did.”

“And?”

Simon smirks behind the balaclava. “I use the mug every morning.”

Johnny barks a laugh. “Oh aye, Lt. Bet you do.” There’s a rustling on the other end. “You up for a visit?”

“A visit?” asks Simon hesitantly.

“Yeah. Need your advice on something. Captain and Gaz are coming too.”

Simon returns the spray bottle to its designated spot. “Why are you calling me instead of Price?”

“Because if Price called, you’d say no.”

Simon pauses near his desk, and glances at the screen of his laptop. “Can I ask what kind of visit?”

There’s a pause on the other end. “Best not to say over the phone. And we haven’t seen you in months. Plus, Ma keeps asking if you’re coming for Christmas.”

Simon grins. “Is she coming, too? Bringing the whole family with you, Johnny?”

“Oi. Fuck off,” he laughs. “Expect us on Saturday.”

The three of them visiting him sits heavy in his stomach. They’ve all come individually, and a few times in a pair, but never all three. It’s only happened twice before. The first time was directly after Simon’s forced retirement. The second time was when the tattoo parlor first opened and they came to support him. Since then, Price, Gaz, and Soap have all come by on their own for one reason or another.

But not together.

That same anxiety from earlier in the day rears up yet again. Whatever needs to be talked about, whatever the three of them need to say to him in person and not over the phone, worries Simon. It digs its claws in.

Another thought nags at him as well, and Simon cannot let it go. He’s not with SAS anymore, and if he was, he’d do this himself. Johnny would help him, would do this for him if Simon only asks.

Simon exhales slowly. “Johnny, I need a favor.”

Soap’s response is immediate. “Anything, Lt.”

“You remember that woman I chased after? The one at Riot Room.”

Soap is quiet a long moment before he answers. “Aye. I remember.”

He’s not proud of what he’s about to do, but fuck it. “Can you find out what you can about her?” Simon rattles off all the information he has and Soap remains silent the entire time.

“I’ll find out what I can and get back to you,” he says after Simon stops talking.

No. Simon is not proud of asking this of him, but Simon is desperate. He needs to know everything about you. It’s habit, and while a small part of him tells him it’s wrong, Simon pushes it down, smothering the objection.

“Saturday then.”

“Saturday.”

Chapter Seven

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[veemunson86]

Dada

Love of my life chapter 6

Masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Now at 11 months old, your daughter was getting so big, even standing with the assistance of something.  She's like Eddie's twin. You had a routine now. You worked Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and sundays, and Eddie picked up work the same days.

Everything was perfect.

7am: you're alarm goes off, Eddie rolls on top of you, still half asleep " ugh baby, 5 more minutes." He groaned and buried his face in the crook of your neck. "Mm Ed's you say 5 more minutes, and that 5 turns Into another 5, and another,  and you're late for work.' You said giggling tiredly. " besides, our girl is up." And every morning, that was enough to get him out of bed.

Just like every morning, there she was, using the bars of her crib to hold herself up. The first few weeks with Eddie were rough, she was so used to the same thing every morning. But now everything is better. They can't get enough of each other.  Today is no different from every morning. She stands, waiting for him, he comes in with the biggest smile " there's my little ladybug!" He smiled and scooped her up, kissing all over her face. She squealed and giggled her little head off. "Goodmoring princess, did you have a good rest? Huh?" He cooed and kissed her head. She balled up her fists and rubbed her eyes, letting out a yawn as she leaned into her dad's chest. "Let's get you dressed huh?" He smiled.

8 am: when you finished getting dressed for work, you head down to make breakfast. Eddie worked at a tattoo studio down the street from your house so he didn't have a uniform or anything, so he strolled down in some black ripped jeans and a Ratt tee. you worked at the doctors office as a pediatric nurses assistant, so you had on skme lavender colored scrubs. Your heart melted when you saw Amelia in his arms wearing a pink polka-dot dress with a black diaper cover, and about the works biggest how. You giggled softly when she gave you a huge toothy grin. " there's my baby, you look so cute today!" You said kissing her chubby cheeks. Eddie gave a fake pout and bounced her. " I used to get greeted like that believe it or not." He joked. You laughed and pressed a kiss to his lips. " you look very handsome Eds." You smiled. " thank you, and you look beautiful as always." He smiled and went in for another kiss when Amelia squealed and shoved her face inbetween the two of you, earning her two kisses.

9 am: after breakfast you both load up the car, getting Amelia in her carseat, Eddie giving her, her favorite stuffed bunny Wayne had given her. Wayne had been given a huge sum of money after the trailer was destroyed, and so he finally retired and lived off his retirement and the amount of money he was given, so he agreed to watch his grand baby any time you guys needed, and man she loved her pop pop.  He had also been given a small 2 bedroom house in the end, so he had space, and even had a room for Amelia on nights he used to watch her overnight. Eddie pulled in to the driveway and you both got out, you had a little Tupperware bowl with some breakfast you had made for him, and Amelia's daytime bag with everything she needed. Eddie got her out of her carseat and smiled as she leaned into his chest immediately as he carried her to the door. Before you even had the chance to ring the doorbell, Wayne had opened the dokr, smiling as the people infront of him. " well goodmorning. How's my babygirl doin this morning?" He asked scooping her up and placing a kiss on her head. " bet she missed her pop pop huh?" He chuckled. Eddie smiled " she's had a good morning, definitely energetic this morning." You smiled and spoke up" I brought you some breakfast." You said with a smile as he let the pair of you inside. Wayne smiled "well thank ya darlin, I appreciate that." He gave you a small hug.

When you headed out, Eddie dropped you at Hawkins doctors offices and the two of you parted with a kiss.

4pm: Eddie got off work at 3:45, he had a very productive day and he was ready to see you.  You came out of work at 4:05, ready to get home to your baby. You smiled when you saw the car parked right up front. When the pair of you drove to Wayne's, it was cute how excited Eddie was every day to get her. You smiled brightly as you saw Wayne in the garden( he had taken up gardening to keep himself busy) with a very happy Amelia next to him chewing on a slice of peach he had cut up for her. When Eddie got out of the car, his facial expressing changed from excited to shocked when he heard Amelia.  Amelia saw her dad step out of the car and she squealed happily and clapped her sticky hands. " dadaaaaa!!" You gasped and smiled wide. " oh my god- yeah baby, that's dada!" You smiled excitedly.  Eddie was absolutely shocked , but after his 5 seconds of being frozen the hugest smile broke across his face. " hey there ladybug!" He scooped her up and kissed her cheeks, which were pretty sticky from the peach. Amelia smiled wide and had part of the peach in her hand which she practically shoved into Eddie's mouth, he was always feeding her pieces of fruit so she had probably picked up on her dad's actions. Eddie made a face as he ate the peach, and looked at Wayne. " wow uncle Wayne, I think those are some of the sweetest ones yet." He grinned. Wayne smiled and stood up"oh don't I don't. Little miss helped me pick the best ones from the tree today, got you guys a basket with some good ones." You smile " oh thanks Wayne, I know she will definitely love those, she devoured the last ones you sent us with." You said with a soft giggled. Wayne smiled " yeah she's been munching on those slices I cut up for her." Eddie smiled " she didn't give you any issues today did she?" Wayne chuckled " never."

9:30 pm: after good bubble bath for Amelia around 6, dinner at 7, and showers for you and Eddie, it was time for bed. You change Amelia into some ladybug footie pajamas and brushed her soft hair, she was fighting sleep. Her eyes lit up when Eddie walked in the room. Eddie smiled as he entered her nursery " hey there's my ladybug." He smiled softly, fresh out of the shower. He wore some black sweatpants and opted for no shirt, his hair slightly damp. Amelia reached for him,babbling softly as she made grabby hands. Eddie scooped her up and smiled " hey there beautiful girl." He smiled. You smiled and watched from the doorway as he sat in the rocking chair in the corner of her room and held her to his chest. Softly rocking in the chair, he kissed her head gently and watched as she started falling asleep, but not before cooing" daa, daadaaa." She cooed tiredly. Eddie kissed her head softly. " daddy's here babygirl, you can go to sleep. Daddy's got you and he will always be here to protect you." He kissed her head gently and whisper " goodnight my little ladybug."

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[mrs-johansson]

Strangers in the night - Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader

Part 20:

“Today we are joined by an amazing actress, director, and screenwriter. You’ve seen her in films like Red Sparrow, Lady Bird, and the Divergent trilogy. Please welcome, Y/n Cole,” called out James Corden and I walked out from the back.

I sat on the sofa and before we started he introduced the other guest. Ellen fucking Pompeo. “Oh my god hi,” I stood up and Ellen spread her arms with a wide smile. “Hi!” She said and we hugged. “I am fangirling, so sorry,” we all sat down. “I’m guessing you’re a Grey’s Anatomy fan, Y/n,” started James. “Are you kidding? I live and breathe by Grey’s Anatomy,” I said and the crowd laughed along with Ellen. “It’s season 15 now, who is your favorite character at the moment?” “Ugh… I looove Meredith,” I glanced at Ellen and she smiled. “I truly think since Derek died, she’s a better character in general. I love Jo, oh Amelia, she’s the best. Alex is one of my favorites too, along with Bailey. I can’t choose!” I sighed and shook my head. “Do you watch the show often?” Asked James. “Oh yeah. Very often. Actually, I made my girlfriend watch it with me, so we started at the beginning,” I said, already nervous about what was coming now that I mentioned Scarlett. James saw the opportunity and with a smile, he started talking. “Now that you’ve mentioned, you just went public with your girlfriend who’s none other than Scarlett Johansson,” he said and the crowd erupted in cheers and I just shyly smiled. “I was genuinely surprised when I saw your post. I haven’t heard any rumors or that kind of talk around the two of you,” he said. “That was a struggle, believe me,” I chuckled, and then so did the crowd. “We did our very best to lay low at all times. And we just shot Jojo Rabbit so it was very important for us not to look like we’re just trying to promote the movie, so we just laid low for a while now.” “But you’re happy?” Asked James and I smiled very widely just knowing how happy I actually am. “I can’t even describe how happy I am. It just feels… right,” I explained even though I could barely put my feelings into words.

***

“Please water them Scar, they're gonna die if you don’t,” I basically whined as she helped me move my suitcases into the car outside. “I will water your plants every day,” she let the suitcase over to my driver who put it in the truck. “Thank you,” I said and he sat behind the wheel. “Have fun and text me when you can. I’ll bring Rose when I can,” Scarlett took my hands. Smiling cutely. “I will. I’ll miss you but it’s gonna be fun when I come home,” I smiled and she nodded. “It sure will.” “Okay, I need to leave. I love you,” I gave her a long kiss before pulling her in a hug. “I love you too.”

I got into the car and we made our way to the airport where I got on the plane and took off to Massachusetts.

On the plane I’ve read the script multiple times, memorizing my bigger parts.

When I touched down I checked into the hotel and because we have a tight schedule, the table read was just 2 hours after my landing.

Getting all my essentials for the rest of the day and I was at the office in no time.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so comfortable going into a new project. I’ve worked with the director before, I’ll have Flo there and Timmy, and the only thing I was nervous about is Meryl Streep. I don’t think I need to explain that.

I walked into the room and I spotted Florence right away, who was speaking to Emma Watson and Eliza Scanlen. There was Greta Gerwig at the front table talking with probably the producers. I didn’t see Timothée anywhere so I quickly texted him but then I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I turned around and I was faced with the icon herself, Meryl Streep. “I didn’t mean to scare you, sorry. I just wanted to say hi, before we start,” she said and I was just standing there, my mouth dry. The next thing I know something just hit me in the back. Like a crumpled piece of paper. Quickly cleaned my throat and answered. “Sorry,” I chuckled. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m such a big fan of yours, but I’m sure you get this from everyone,” I mumbled, trying to not faint. “Oh well, it’s not the same from everyone, so thank you. But, I must say I’m also a fan of your work. Red Sparrow was amazing,” said MERYL STREEP. I can’t wait to tell my dad about this. “Wow, uhm… thank you so much. It means a lot,” I smiled and with a hand on my shoulder once again she stepped away and went over to Greta. Timmy literally jumped to my side and I’m sure he heard everything because he had a big smile on his face, his eyebrows almost meeting with his hairline from the excitement. “That was siiick,” he whisper-yelled and shook me by the shoulders. “I just can’t believe that happened,” I said. I spoke with everyone a little, and I was really excited about this movie.

After we all got our seats, Greta spoke a few words and we started.

We had such a great time. Everyone was laughing and when something emotional happened we all paid attention to those who were in the scene.

Around 8 pm we finished and it was amazing. We all had great chemistry with each other so I think this is gonna work out really well.

“Do you guys want to go have dinner? I know a great place,” I suggested and most of them accepted the invite.

Timothée, Florence and I got into one car and Emma, Eliza, James and Laura into the other one. Laura needed a little convincing to tag along because she said “I’m too old to go with all of you”, but she’s way too cool not to come with us.

We all fell into conversation pretty quickly as we got to the restaurant. Everyone was talking to someone and I think everyone felt comfortable with one another. “So you get to experience both Noah and Greta’s directing methods, that must be interesting,” I said to Laura who was sitting next to me. “Yeah, it’s so fun. Both of them are so different but I’m sure they’ll have some similarities.” “You guys shot the whole of Marriage Story on film, right?” “Yes, but I’m sure Scarlett told you all about it,” she smiled cheekily. I smiled shyly and nodded. “She did, yeah. I love the story so much, it’s just so full of love and your character just seems so fun and cool,” I said. “It is an amazing story. Noah did such a great job with the script. But let’s not talk about work in off time too, I could barely get Scarlett away from her phone while working,” she bumped her shoulder to mine and I just smiled. “I uhm… we talked a lot that time yeah,” I said and Laura smiled knowingly. “Ah well her smile was different. She was happy and glowing. I think you surprised everyone, but I could tell it’s genuine. I’m glad you have each other.”

***

“Hello?” Heard the voice over the phone. “Scarlett? Baby, hi,” I mumbled as I saw her beautiful face on the screen. “Okay, you’re drunk. First day went well then,” she chuckled adorably. “It was so fun! Oh my God, Meryl Streep is amazing. She said Red Sparrow was amazing. Funny because I’m naked in that one,” I said while taking my dress off, but I accidentally stumbled onto the couch. “Careful there.” “I’m fine,” I threw the dress on the floor and made my way to the bed. “Take off your makeup before you go to bed, baby,” said Scarlett over the phone. “I don’t want to though,” I whined as I sat on the fluffy bed. “You’ll thank me tomorrow.” “Fine,” I sighed and moved to the bathroom. “How was your day?” I mumbled as I fidgeted with my skincare bag. “It was good. We had some reshoots for Endgame so it was fun,” she said. “Oh don’t tell me any spoilers or I’m gonna cry,” I started to take my makeup off. “I won’t, I won’t. I think you’re gonna like it though.” “Yeah? I’m sure you’ll look hot in it so I’m not worried,” I smirked at the screen and she just laughed. “I’ve never seen you this drunk before, how much did you have?” “Just a couple glasses to be honest,” I shrugged. “Aha, I’m not so sure about that.” “I’m telling you, it wasn’t a lot.” “If I text Laura, are you sure she’s gonna say the same thing?” I glanced down at the phone and a smile pulled on my lips. “No.” “Yeah, that’s what I thought, but I’m glad you’re already having fun. I’m sure it’s gonna be a great shoot.” “Oh my god, yeeees. I love everyone so much,” I threw the makeup wipes in the trash and rinsed my face with cold water before going back to the bedroom. “Take a painkiller in case this all goes to hell. And drink a lot of water.” “I’ve been drunk before, I know how this works Mom,” I chuckled. “I just want to make sure you’re okay, baby.” “I know, I know. Thank you for that,” I blew a kiss towards the screen. “Always. What’s the plan tomorrow?” She asked. As I could see, she was just lying in bed with glasses and a big sweatshirt on. The TV reflected from her glasses making it a bit difficult to see her eyes. “Rehearsals for the next week and just after that we start shooting. But I can’t waaaait, I’m so excited for this one. I just know that it’s gonna be so so good and fun,” I laid down in bed and pulled the covers up to my chin. “I’m excited for you and to see it. Have you done a period movie yet, I don’t think so, right?” “Not this old, no. The latest was the Gatsby I think,” I yawned while trying hard to focus on the conversation. “You should go to bed, Y/n,” Scarlett said as she got up from her bed. “I really should but I love talking to my girlfriend, she’s kinda fun you know,” I rolled over to my stomach, trying to get comfortable. “Yeah? Well, your girlfriend is not going anywhere so you can speak to her whenever you’re free.” “I know,” I said slowly, just looking at the screen and admiring how amazing she was. “I love you,” I said, still feeling the booze. “I love you too, you drunk. Go to bed, honey. Text me when you wake up, okay?” She said softly with the cutest smile on her face. “I will. I love you.” “I love you too, sleep well.” “You too.”

***

All the cast members filled up the room as we were waiting for Greta. Florence on my right side and Timothée on the left. Sunglasses on both of their faces, sliding off their chairs, heads tilted back. “How are you not dead?” Murmured Timmy as he pulled the hood of his sweater over his head. “I have an amazing girlfriend who takes care of me. And you crazy people just downed every glass you found on the table,” I gave him a bottle of water. “Thanks.”

“Alright everybody, I hope you had a good night's sleep. Today is like to go through some of the bigger monologues so we can work on those if it’s necessary,” Greta explained and as I looked at my friends, I quietly chuckled. “Today’s gonna be fun.”

[longbobmckenzie]

Season 6 Volume XIII Thoughts

GTFO, Amelia. That's it.

No honestly, I'm actually so curious what FB thought they were doing with her. They gave us negative responses, but did they honestly think we'd use them? Because they never have any impact. Or did they think we'd WANT to spend so much our game experience having forced chats with her and TWO DOUBLE DATES?!?! You know how they always say it's Love Island, not Friend Island? IT'S NOT SISTER ISLAND EITHER. GTFO.

The baby challenge was mostly a snoozefest. I mean, it was fine, but basic. Our partner is good with babies, Marshall isn't, Grace is disappointed with Ozzy, what else is new?

The unique chats with our LIs were so cute though - Roberto's story about his dad was ABSOLUTE ADORABLENESS and I know the other ones were cute too

Amelia's prank was dumb

Girls' day was meh. I heard there's a little Grace drama on the Ozzy route (surprise, surprise) but off his route it was just bland

I took the gem scene hoping the other girls would have some gossip to share and immediately regretted it. I did not need a play by play of Amelia's bits. Girl. Overshare, much?? It's fine to tell us you did bits, but I do not need that level of detail

No wonder she's always on us to get details 🤮

Not looking forward to next week when she tells us all about what she got into in the hideaway

Half expecting her to announce she's pregnant, ngl

I didn't take the 2nd prank during the cooking scene

Did not want a double date with Amelia and Toby. Yawn. Also why do we have to play games every damn time? This whole seasons is just a million games and challenges

Roberto on the terrace was great. Got the token hot tub date mention in there, too

I'm at least somewhat impressed that they acknowledged we've been to the hideaway already (twice) so they let someone else go, but ew why Amelia and Toby

Of course I took every opportunity to tell them or whoever else would listen that I don't think they'll las

ONE MORE VOLUME!! Looking forward to a final date with my boy where he tells me about the hot tub date one more time (actually two more - it'll defo be in his speech too) and finally win!

They better not make it a tie between us and Amelia. Ugh. Already calling it'll be down to us as the final 2 couples. WHY?! Who would vote for them??

That's it for now! Once more next week!