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#adding to this bc again i was given thoughts
mblue-art · 4 months
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BAD SANSUARY // [14] tears for owl-bones's event !
"...Killer, it just looks like I have running mascara."
"it's such a look though."
messy kisses and post-nuzzles
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peterspinkrobe · 9 months
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Confession - priest!Miguel O’Hara x Reader [part 2]
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Word count: 2,270 (oops)
Rating: mature for suggestive content. Mentions of masturbation. You have a dirty mind… tsk tsk. Religious content. Mentions of parental death (sorry for not tagging last time).
A/N: Thank you for your feral support in reading part 1! The art above is again by @Ejpuki on twt. They drew this moment from part one and JUST LOOK AT IT! They also did a pre-reading which I greatly appreciated. Go support them over there <3 I only tagged the people who explicitly stated bc I don’t want to overstep. Also, I guess I should watch Fleabag? Enjoy! part three is cookin’ in my noggin’
// Psalms 32:3-4
When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy on me;
Rumbling sounds drone from the engine in a constant hum as the bus wheels roll down the asphalt, occasionally shuffling the passengers inside. Yourself included.
The wheels in your mind are conjuring images of too much skin, friction, and want. The mental pictures… different positions and other things that you’ve only read about - all featuring the same tall deacon from your small church.
You curse yourself for both your overactive imagination and forgetfulness for having left your headphones at home. Some loud music would drown out the whir of the bus and push out the flashes of lewdness that plagued you.
Reverend O’Hara, you learned that’s what transitional deacons are usually called after inquiring about the proper title on Google the second you got home from that communion, occupied the majority of your mind. He took up residence in your thoughts without even asking permission and you didn’t know the proper way to absolve your sanity of him. It had only been two weeks since you’d met him, two Sunday services, but you were hooked. This trip into the city was supposed to get you out of the house and help clear your mind of its recent inhabitant.
The methods you were currently using were certainly of no help. Nearly every night, for the past two weeks, you’d given into temptation. Allowing the streaking images of what you could only envision his toned body looked like to remain longer in your mind’s eye. His thumb on your lip, the quick swipe across - became more inquisitive of the inside of your mouth in your imagination. You pressed into yourself and thought of those long, thick fingers. You carried yourself away on highs with only his hands in mind. You yearned to baptize him in your waters.
You buried fingernails into your palms to ground yourself as the scenery outside the bus began the change drastically, pulling you out of your daydream.
Your hometown along the Catskill Mountains was enveloped by the natural world - tucked into valleys of the vast countryside. In the three weeks you’d been back home, you had already gotten used to surrounding greenery. You’d forgotten the toll that city expansion was having on the rows of vegetable and orchard farms in the surrounding areas.
Your gaze out the window watched tree lines and grassy hills give way to glimmers of futuristic architecture as the bus entered Nueva York. The rhythm of wheels on tarmac became a backdrop to the din of honking horns, shouting pedestrians, and blaring sirens. You had only recently left a city not too different from this one, but the drastic change in landscape from the mountains made your head spin. The inertia of the bus braking and accelerating over and over on the intersecting streets only added to the motion sickness. You recognize the next stop as the usual one you and your mother used when coming into the city. You quickly get off the bus, blessing the steady ground underneath as your boots hit the pavement.
Towering structures of carbon fiber and glass dominated the skyline, some illuminated by bright neon light displays, others blending into the afternoon sunshine. Advertisements for fast foods, fast money, and fast cars flickered on screens everywhere. You look to where the bus carried you from and, in contrast, the countryside stretched out, calling you back. Despite the slight familiarity in the maze of metal, the sudden change in surroundings made you slightly anxious.
The steady stream of citizens didn’t help your nerves either. You take a moment to get yourself together before following the foot traffic flow up a familiar street.
Your eyes recognize a food spot from a bygone era and you can’t help but smile. You picked up the pace as you headed to the establishment your family used to frequent. Timeless Treats is still here?! You pull on the long handled door and a wave of music, chatter, and sugar hit you at once. Much more pleasant than the waves of anxiety from moments before.
Entering the quaint eatery, you’re transported into a cozy atmosphere reminiscent of an old fashioned diner. A cheerful man at the front waves you in and shouts for you to ‘sit where ya want!’.
You recognized the vintage decor: rusted signs with cartoon mascots and ads for ice cream floats that cost only $2. Imagine! You select one of the smaller retro tables with two stools and hear a jukebox play a song you don’t recognize but tap your foot along to.
There was more to this diner than what it seems at first glance. A few more glances noticed the subtle touches where the diner had embraced the future where it mattered, with high-tech kitchen appliances that helped the staff immensely. A holographic menu pops up across the portion of the table you're sitting at and you slide your finger along the options.
This bakery specialized in delicious treats with a futuristic flare, with many favorites being popular since the establishment opened generations ago. Your eyes fell onto the pastry menu and your curiosity piqued as you ordered the ‘Time Traveler’s Torta.’
All the hustle of the city had occupied your mind until you were sitting alone at the table. Your eyes scanned the other occupants and you wondered what they were all talking about with their sugary sweets. It made you think of him again.
Dammit. A whole ten minutes without thinking of Reverend O’Hara, that’s a record! You couldn’t help the images of Miguel that fluttered now. Only this time you pictured him sitting at the table with you. The two of you share a dessert and you smile at the thought. You visualize his thumb coming to your face to wipe whipped cream from your lips only to plop the finger into his own mouth. That moment as mass replayed in your mind with differing flavors of spice on repeat.
The torta arrives and you gawk at the presentation of the treat. A classic cake with layers of light vanilla sponge, intricately placed swirls of sweet cream cheese frosting, and decadent chocolate sauce. This sweet was the perfect balance of timeless and futuristic as it sat on an oblong, ornate plate.
You savored the flavors as you ate and continued to imagine a date with the deacon. You ask yourself if deacons can even date and the thought pulls you out of your delusions for a moment. Get it together…
As you scooped the last bits of the pastry into your mouth, you pondered your dilemma. Mom always said that confession cleared a clouded consciousness, but there was no way you’d divulge this information to her. Her hypothetical reaction to your crush on a clergy member makes you shiver.
An idea comes to mind that makes you think to yourself that you’ve really gone mad.
The madness pushes you from your seat after paying for the dessert. There’s a slim chance what you’re looking for is actually there considering the cities expansions. That doubt doesn’t stop you from following a semi-recognizable path down the busy streets.
Every tall figure you pass makes you do a double take. The idea of the deacon brushing alongside you making you smile. You turn a corner as your imagination creates sweet scenarios with Reverend O’Hara and stop in your tracks. You cause people behind you to push into your back and spit harsh murmurs at you.
It was still there.
You were surprised for good reason. You were headed towards a relic of past times, nestled between buildings of glass and metal. There was some scaffolding supporting it as the building you headed towards was centuries old. Other than that - the structure you now stood and stared at jutted towards the sky in the old brick and mortar style you were used to seeing in your hometown.
But the Cathedral of Nueva York wasn’t like the humble church in your hometown. The ornate bell tower and large cross atop the chapel in front of you proved that. The only thing to change about the building was the name as the state itself saw many changes a few decades ago - including the name of the actual city.
You find yourself reminiscing on the few times you’d been to the church as you walked inside. Your family used to attend the fancy Easter services and Christmas plays. Those trips stopped after your father passed, and your mother rarely came to the city at all anymore. You remember seeing pictures of them on their wedding day at this very church. Priesthood is a tight knit group and Father Steen knew the head priest, who extended their church for their wedding services.
Given it was a weekday afternoon, there weren’t many souls inside. Despite the numerous options for seating, you sat in your usual middle pew, aisle seat.
You eyed the part of the church that had brought you here in the first place. The confession booth. Its cherrywood exterior made you think of those eyes that bore into yours that day of communion. You shake your head but the visual remains.
The church in your hometown didn’t have a confessional booth. Even if they did - why the hell would you confess there? To the subject of your lustful desires? So many questions and doubts enter your mind.
Could you really do this? Confess to a priest that you pined over a man in his chaste brotherhood? Think of the judgment!
Another thought occurs to you: their whole shtick was that only one entity could do the judging. And it was confidential. If you received some good ol’ fashioned Catholic scolding and Hail Mary’s, maybe that would be enough to get you back to your senses. Reverend O’Hara is a man devoted to God and cannot be hindered by the whims of a degenerate like yourself.
Emboldened by the potential to relieve yourself of your corrupt thoughts, you stand and approach the far right front of the church. The confessional is smaller than it looked from how you remember as a child and teen but it doesn’t stop you from nearly yanking the door open. You don’t even knock.
Thankfully no one is on the confessing side as you burst into the tiny box. The confined space became even smaller as you closed the door behind you quickly. Your mind races towards impure thoughts of the deacon pressed against you in the tight booth space. His height would force him to bend slightly over you and the visual almost knocks you onto the bench which would probably be right at crotch level…
You remember the times you’d done this before and cry out the usual, “Forgive me, for I have sinned and it has been many years since my last confession…”. Who were you even asking for forgiveness? You think for a moment about the last time you were in this booth. You felt so guilty about stealing from the general store all those years back. This was a different kind of confession. This would hopefully absolve yourself of the sinful attraction to the forbidden.
You start light, fumbling over the words, “I’ve gotten drunk and high, uh, a good bit while in college. I lied to my mother and got into major trouble as a result. I’ve been selfish and lazy.”
The anonymity and the release of it all lit a fire under you and you kept going.
“While I’m in this confession booth, and I know it is a sacred and holy place”, you sigh and hear shuffling on the opposite side of the wall, the priest waiting patiently on the other side. “I’ve been struggling with my faith and don’t believe in god…”
You hear the clergyman start to interject but the voice that comes out of you has a fierce tone.
“I’m not done.” Now it was the priest’s turn to sigh and you see movement through the small slits in the partition, but hear nothing else. You continue. The most scandalous part to admit had yet to be said.
“Father, I’ve been lustful over the deacon at my church.” There’s silence on the other end and before embarrassment can take over you continue, “I’m constantly thinking of him and having impure thoughts that drive me to-“ oh god, here it is
“Touch myself. Daily. With this deacon on my mind.” You can’t stop the heat from painting your cheeks a deep red.
“I feel guilty because he isn’t for me to think that way about. From just the two times I’ve seen him, I know he is a good man who does good things. He’s on a path towards righteousness. He’s worthy.” To your shock, you feel tears form and they begin to fall.
“I’m a sinful nonbeliever. Definitely not someone he could be with, unworthy of devotion of any kind. And I’m not good.” Your breathing becomes shaky as the tears fall harder. Despite the fact that you feel your words are the truth, you can’t help but imagine him there now. Comforting you as you cry.
Now that you’ve finished confession, you expect to hear an outburst of disapproval or at least ‘50 Hail Mary’s’ to absolve you of your confessed transgressions.
But that’s not what you heard next.
You hear your name. You hear your name in that sweet music that’s been ringing in your ears the last week or so. This time the musical tone is cautious. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief as your eyes glue to the wall where the music came from.
To confirm your suspicions, you grab the knob on the partition and yank it back.
Through the small window you see a familiar pair of eyes analyzing your face, heavy with worry.
Reverend O’Hara had just taken your confession…
I pray you liked this, dear reader.
Tagged ppl - @friendlynbhdzero @ceoofghosts it won’t let me tag you @hoelychildofgod
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watchyourbuck · 3 months
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I really wanted to NOT analyze this scene bc it’s been done so many times but I’m a public menace, so
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Buck and Eddie and Chris are at Buck’s loft, after a mission and a less than pleasant conversation w Bobby, and here are my thoughts:
We see Buck (who’s upset), cooking for Chris and Eddie, when — in the whole arc —, we never see him cook for Taylor (or Ali, or really, anyone else but the 118).
Recently therapied™️ Eddie doesn’t give a flying fuck about being interim captain, but has enough eyes to see Buck does. His voice softens, and he gives him foot to discuss his own feelings without hiding them bc Eddie doesn’t share them. (Bonus points bc he makes the same face he made after the lawsuit, in THE Kitchen Scene, when he tells Buck ‘not to beat himself up about it.’).
“Lucy is great– whatever-,” Buck says absentmindedly, and we get a glimpse of Eddie’s smug little face. It kind of implies he knows about the kiss, but opts to say nothing. He did, in fact, cheat on Taylor (and Chris is in the room). But the grin falls a little. Maybe he’s not so nonchalant about it, after all. Or maybe, he knows they (she and Buck) never stood a chance. He looks – relieved, almost.
Eddie feels comfortable enough to keep actually playing with his kid. Enough to win, actually. He doesn’t feel that comfortable at his parent’s house (5x17).
Buck keeps talking about this, and even if he acts like he doesn’t care (and Eddie has dealt with that sarcastic-coping-mechanism-tone Buck does one too many times), he’s visibly angry, so Eddie changes the subject. “What are you offering?”
“Right now? Bobby’s famous lasagna.” Okay, this doesn’t scream ‘I’m cooking you my family recipes’ to anyone else?
Then we have The Diaz’ compliments, which not only sound genuine, but make Buck grin. Like he did something right. Besides, it took him ‘three tries to get it right.’ Interesting, when other in the show has Buck not given up immediately after something doesn’t go his way? Surely, this had to be something he was very keen on achieving, cuz he barely cooks for himself.
Chris’ little ‘you don’t even have a couch’ is very funny to me. Because he’s a kid and he’s joking, or being smart. But Chris isn’t my focus here, it’s Eddie’s reaction. We do know kids absorb what their parents feel and say, right? Eddie laughs, so he must think alike. He looks almost drunk — all flushed cheeks, big smile, squinted eyes.
“My last two couches came with girlfriends” and the IMMEDIATE correction Eddie makes. We know Buck is at his most comfortable with the Diaz boys, so we know he’s not putting on a show. What he says – he means. Of the heart speaks the mouth. That’s how he feels about his past relationships, not the correction Eddie makes. (And if you may let me be annoying here, it’s kinda interesting, the correction. It sounds almost – hopeful. Eddie knows it’s supposed to be the way he corrects him to be, but in a way, he corrects him just to guarantee himself that that’s not what Buck meant ((and it’s not.)).
The way that Buck stops, stares and then plunges down on the chair. ‘Right,’ he thinks, ‘the girlfriends came with couches.’ Again, NOT his initial thought. He hides behind a grin.
Eddie is not careful mentioning Taylor. Buck isn’t heartbroken. He even mentions her in Chris’ presence, and we know by history they’ve always been careful. (If you ask me, that’s the reason they didn’t hook up after the ‘you wanna go for the title?’ scene).
“Maybe I don’t wanna pick the wrong couch again.” Please stay here for a second. In all objectivity we’re talking about furniture…, right? This is a three-street conversation, because Chris added himself to it, yet Buck won’t look at him. He looks at Eddie, very intently. As if… as if he’s saying something different with his words. Huh, whatever could he mean? (Faint whispers of: ‘your couch, you, I wanna pick you, I wanna pick you, pick me, too.’) And then Eddie, who is Oblivious Firefighter of the Year (awarded) brings the conversation down again to the actual topic, and Buck deflates, like his balloon has been popped. His eyes literally stop glimmering.
So, is this a conversation two best friends who are comfortable in that title would have?
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thehighladywrites · 5 months
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I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater…
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Pairing: azriel x reader, the ic, lucien and elain, and helion mentioned
Summary: angst, no happy ending for him, a bit ooc azriel bc he’s an absolute ass in this. also I can’t make elain the villain bc I love her. bittersweet ending, cassian and feyre being the most wonderul people ever. some swearing, like a tiiiiiny nsfw scene, like it barely counts, but i’ll warn you anyways.
Author’s note: yeah, this was inspired by heather, so definitely listen to it while reading💔 i just think this was the perfect day👀 never again am i writing angst, plus i might have been a bit dramatic when said this was gut-wrenching, i don’t think this was very angsty, just a bit tragic. but i hate angst so any angst is gut-wrenching in my eyes🤷🏽‍♀️ also there’s no revenge better than rising above…
Word count: 6,5 k words
If you see any grammar errors or spelling mistakes, no you didn’t ❤️
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"Y/n, I practically hear your teeth chattering. Here, wear this." Azriel removed his sweater, passing it to you with a hint of concern in his eyes. You bit the inside of your lip to keep from smiling, he was always so thoughtful and observant. It was on of the reasons you fell in love with him.
"It's okay, Az, you'll freeze." You attempted to return the warm clothes, but he firmly pushed them back, fixing you with a stare that left no argument.
"I won't freeze. You know I'm used to this weather. Bet you miss your old home right about now." He alluded to your home court, The Day Court where the sun always shines, and standing on the balcony on a crisp December morning doesn't make your fingers feel like they'll fall off.
You arrived in Velaris to assist with document translations, given your expertise. Your services were in high demand across various courts. And initially, a month-long stay extended to two, then three. Eventually, enchanted by Velaris and its people, you asked Helion if you could make it your permanent home. The support of your friends added to the whole experience.
You slid into Azriel's warm sweater, feeling its comforting embrace. The fabric whispered tales of comfort and safety, an unspoken promise against the biting cold. As you adjusted to the newfound warmth, your heart felt a different heat—one that spoke against the unspoken feelings you had towards him. The subtle scent of his cologne lingered, intertwining with the softness of the fabric, creating a scent that seemed to make your heart flutter twice as hard. In that moment, you couldn't help but let the warmth of the sweater mirror the warmth within you.
“ Feel better?” You nodded, avoiding his eyes in fear that he’d be able to see the emotions portrayed on your face.
“ Thanks, Az. For the sweater and all. It’s really warm.”
The corner of his lips twitched as his eyes remained on you, “Keep it. It looks better on you than it ever did me anyways.”
He grabbed your hand before you could respond and walked back in, closing the balcony doors. Stuck between friends and something more, you felt lost. Wanting to confess your feelings to Azriel but scared it could mess things up, you were torn. The shared laughs felt like good friends, but those lingering looks sparked a longing for more. Balancing this act, you wrestled with risking the friendship for a shot at something deeper. In the middle of all this, you were standing there, not sure which way to go.
As you hesitated walking further with him, Azriel noticed you stopped walking and furrowed his brow. "Hey, what's up?" he asked, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.
You wanted to tell Azriel how you felt, but doubts held you back. As you looked at him, the sweater felt heavy with unsaid words. You wondered if it's better to say what's on your mind or keep it to yourself. Fear answered for you as you shook your head and gave him a reassuring smile.
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Later that day, during dinner, Azriel asked you to meet him in the upstairs library while your friends were distracted, to which you accepted, head spinning at the possibilities.
In the quiet sanctuary of the library, the air thick with unreadable energy, Azriel's eyes met yours. Without a word, he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours, a silent acceptance of the feelings that had lingered in the unspoken spaces between you. The unexpected kiss marked a sweet transition between friendship and the uncharted territory of something more.
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For over a year, you and Azriel kept things under wraps, not really calling it a relationship. It was a secret, a kind of unspoken understanding. The stolen moments and shared looks formed the backbone of whatever it was between you. You regularly fell in each other’s beds and spent intimate moments together. There was however one specific night you’d always cherish.
You were in his bed, cuddling after he gave you yet another amazing time. Your legs were h thrown over his hips as you occasionally kissed his plushy lips. He held you tighter and ran his hand under your sweater. His eyes were lidded as he whispered intimately,
“ This sweater looks so fucking good on you, please never take it off. I’ve never given anything to another woman, but there’s something special about you. I love it when you wear it, like a reminder that you’re mine. No one else will wear it.” He pulled you closer and kissed your neck and collarbones. His hot breath made yours hitch as he fondled with your stiffened nipples.
Your attempt to come up with a response faltered as he brushed over another sensitive area, prompting a moan to escape your lips.
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But as time passed, the lack of clarity started to wear on you. The hidden nature of it all was both a source of comfort and frustration. You yearned for more, a real relationship, a label to put on what you had with Azriel.
But with the war and Feyre's sisters entering the scene, everything got complicated. Your attention got scattered, and the chaos made the unspoken thing with Azriel less of a priority for a while.
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After the traumatic and bloody war, you tried to seek Azriel for comfort, but he busied himself with Elain. His focus seemed to be on her, making it hard to find a moment to reconnect. The situation left you feeling unsure about where things stood between you two.
As the days went by, you noticed Elain entering Azriel's world completely, capturing his attention in a way that left you filled with jealousy and pit growing in your stomach. Her presence became a subtle intrusion, and the shared moments that were once exclusively yours now seemed to be scattered between you and her. The laughter and conversations, once intimate, now carried a different tone, a rushed tone to hurry away to Elain. A pang of jealousy crept into your heart, and the undefined nature of your connection with Azriel began to feel more fragile. The fear of losing him to someone else tugged at your emotions, leaving you questioning the unspoken relationship you had shared for so long.
You couldn’t even blame him. Elain was a sight for sore eyes, a beautiful girl with an even more beautiful soul. She had only treated you with kindness, giving you thoughtfull Solstice gifts and advice when needed.
You couldn’t justifiably be mad at her.
You’d pick her over you too.
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Maybe you should just face your problems head on and ask him for some advice to break the newfound ice. His grunts were heard as he punched cassians face, getting some blood on his knuckles. Approaching him in the training pit, you hoped he wouldn’t dismiss you. “ Hey, Az, can we talk?”
Looking at you with an unreadable expression, he sharply replied, “Yeah, sure, quick. What's up?”
You tentatively asked, noticing his mood, “ Um, you wanna go for a walk? I haven’t seen you for a while. Also, we’re supposed to meet tonight, are you still up for it?”
He glanced around, eyes searching for an out, “Can it wait? I've got something I need to take care of.”
You felt dismissed as he didn’t even address what you mentioned and used whatever power you had left and asked, “ I just thought-“
"Look, I'll catch up with you later, alright? But yeah, I guess i’ll meet you tonight." After Azriel quickly walked off, you felt a sting from his unintentional rudeness. He had been acting like this for a while now and they way he hurriedly accepted your offer was making you feel like a second choice. But why? You did want to meet him and he did say yes, so why in the mother’s name did this feel so…?
Trying to shake it off, you found a quiet spot to gather your thoughts. Doubts crept in, making you wonder if his abrupt exit meant something more. Left alone with unanswered questions, you thought about having a straightforward talk about where you stand in his life.
“Hey, you okay? What was that about?” Cassian’s tone was so gentle and inviting and it almost made you spill everything right there, but he already had his own issues and problems with Nesta so you didn’t want to burden him further.
"It was nothing. I, uh, I'll see you later, Cas." You hastily departed, your eyes stinging with impending tears.
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He was late. Again. This had happened seceral times before and despite agreeing to see him tonight, his prolonged absence weighed on you. Feeling a bit pathetic, you rose from your armchair and slipped under the covers, opting for a deep, dreamless sleep.
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As war flashbacks filled your mind, and a suffocating panic took hold in the middle of the night, leaving you sweating. You threw of your sheets, gasping as you made your way to door. Desperate, you rushed to find Azriel, your heart beating louder than the echoing footsteps in the quiet hallways. You hoped to find comfort, a break from your horrors, as you hurried along.
Turning a corner, the world shattered around you. Azriel and Elain stood in an embrace, lost in a kiss that felt like a thousand daggers piercing your chest. The air in your lungs disappeared , replaced by a crushing weight that threatened to swallow you whole. Time was lost as you grappled with the horrible realization that the sanctuary you sought was crumbling before your eyes.
Your Azriel wasn’t yours anymore.
Your Azriel wasn’t ever truly yours, a taunting voice spewed in your head
Quietly, your broken heart mirrored the shattered moonlight, pain etched into you, stranded in heartbreak's silent hallway where quiet screamed louder than war's echoes.
He had chosen to be with Elain even though he promised you he’d see you.
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Your heart was in your throat as you went downstairs for breakfast. The memory of Azriel shoving his tounge down Elains throat was still so fresh and it made something in you ache.
The dining room buzzed with the voices of friends and family as you dropped into a chair between Feyre and Lucien, saving space for more seats in front of you. Glancing to the right from your plate, you noticed Lucien, as he cut into his eggs. Oddly, you hadn't known he was back, despite being good friends. Ever since he learned about his father, he'd been curious about your old home in the day court, where his father ruled. You two became fast friends, and you promised to take him on an exclusive trip there anytime he wanted.
“ Hey, Lucien. How was your trip and when did you come back, I didn’t hear you enter yesterday.”
Yeah because you probably cried yourself to sleep, maybe that’s why.
He flashed his charming smile, tilting his head with playful eyes. "Missed me, Y/n?" he teased, laughing as you playfully punched his arm. Only he would crack jokes so early in the morning.
Deciding to tease him back, you couldn't resist digging into the details of his trip to the continent. You never got tired of his adventures, loving how he narrated them with grace and humor, making you feel like you were right there with him.
"Yeah, so what if I missed you? I enjoy having you around, Luc. But seriously, spill. Did you take down any monsters? Save any damsels in distress?"
Lucien chuckled, leaning in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, I did fight off a swarm of overeager pigeons. Does that count as saving the day or just a triumph against feathery creatures?" he quipped, his laughter infectious.
You howled at the thought of a flock of birds surrounding your friend, pecking at him while he irritatingly tries to remove them.
The room fell silent as Azriel walked in with Elain, and your laughter faded.
A mix of hot and cold flashes hit you as you saw Elain wearing your sweater.
The sweater Azriel gave you a year ago—the one that meant a lot to you.
The one you had grown to love and was a reminder of what could be.
The one that cemented your feelings for him.
He gave it to Elain.
The one he was kissing last night.
The one he swapped you with and then got irritated when you tried to approach him.
The one who was mated to the seething male next to you.
The weight of everyone's stares bore down on you as Elain and Azriel took their seats in front of you and Lucien. Feyre and Cassian's eyes felt like lasers on the side of your head as you couldn't look away from your sweater now worn by Elain. Confusion gnawed at you – you'd tossed it into the laundry basket, yet there she was, flaunting it. The fact that Azriel didn't seem to care only added to the bewilderment, even when he knew what it meant to you. Irritation sparked in you as you got ready to chew him out, because who the hell wears something that doesn’t belong to them. And maybe Elain didn’t know but Azriel sure as hell did and you had enough of whatever bullshit this was. But before you were able to speak up, Feyre beat you to it.
“Elain, where did you get that sweater? I’m pretty sure it’s y/n’s.” Everyone looked back at Elain as red colored her cheeks, she meekly looked at you as she sputtered her explanation.
“ I hope it’s okay y/n, I didn’t know it was yours. I was in the laundry room with Azriel and I got… Well I, I um, got dirty, so he handed me this shirt and told me it was okay but I should’ve asked. Do you want it back?”
Numbness was all you could describe what you felt like. There was no way to miss the insinuation. They fucked and he gave her your sweater to wear after. And she didn’t even know it was yours, so you didn’t blame her. You found a new level of respect for Lucien, because you weren’t even mated to Azriel and you felt all this pain. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he felt.
Not having the energy for this you gave her a sweet smile and said something that made Azriel’s eyes stay on you the rest of the meal.
“No worries, Elain. The shirt means nothing to me. Keep it. It looks better on you than it ever did on me, anyway.”
You casually picked up your fork, trying to eat away the tension that lingered in the air. Throughout the meal, Lucien remained tense next to you, his mate leaning against the shadowsinger, his arm around her. The gesture practically shouting that he didn't care about Elain's mate sitting across from him, much to Rhysand's dismay.
"Lucien, I'm full. Do you want to accompany me to town? There are a few things I need to get, and I could use some help carrying them." You extended your hand, and he took it, ever the gentleman, placing it so you held onto his arm with a smile.
————————————
Reaching the pathway to the town square, the open nature felt like a breath of fresh air. Despite you and Lucien being able to winnow, a walk through the cold December morning seemed necessary to clear your head. Glancing at Lucien, you sensed a shared need for clarity. Unable to contain it any longer, you decided to spill everything, the weight of unspoken words demanding release.
“I’ll be honest, I suspected something along those lines. I mean you weren’t being subtle about it. But the sweater threw me off.”
“Oh, I suppose our subtlety is not relevant anymore. Lucien, I just want you to know how much I appreciate you and hold you in high regard. Feel free to share anything; I'm here to listen. I can't even fathom how hard it must be when you're mated.”
His sad laughter echoed, tugging at your heartstrings, confirming that it wasn't an easy situation. As he opened up, every word he shared made perfect sense, resonating with what you were feeling.
After wandering around The Rainbow, sipping hot chocolates, and sharing your thoughts, you headed home. However, upon your return to The House, you were greeted by a pacing and visibly upset Azriel. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at Lucien who looked just as confused as you. Azriels pacing came to a halt as he quickly made his way over to you.
“ Where have you been? I looked for you everywhere. Why where you out with him?” Hot fury coarsed through your veins as you snapped at his tone. Just who the hell did he think he was?
“Where I am and who I'm with isn't your concern. Now excuse me, I'm going to my room. Lucien, I'll see you around. Thank you for your help.” You stood on your toes, giving Lucien a kiss on the cheek, and then briskly walked to your room, leaving Azriel with his thoughts. Though he certainly didn’t think very long as his footsteps inched closer behind you.
Azriel stood before you with a tense expression. “Why were you with Lucien?” he demanded, his eyes searching for answers.
As much as you missed him and ached for him, there wasn’t a single planet where you’d let him disrespect you and then demand answers like some jealous boyfriend. Anger took over as you stood tall and laid everything for him.
“Listen, I don’t know what you think you’re doing but you can’t talk to me like that. Lucien is a good male, you should know, your fucking his mate and he hasn’t murdered you yet.”
His face was back to it’s neutral state, the state of the shadowsinger and spymaster of the night court. He stepped closer, jaw tight as he spewed words that made your blood boil.
“I don’t want to see you around Lucien again. I don’t care that you’re friends because it looks like you want to fuck him. You belong to me and I don’t share.”
The possessiveness normally would’ve turned you on as it once did when a male tried to hit on you a few months ago. But this just made you want to punch him clean across his face.
“Azriel, I’m not sure you’re hearing me. I may see whoever I want because you’re not my father or mate or anything. And I’m not a thing, I do not belong to you so I will do whatever pleases me.” You stepped closer, interrupting whatever he was about to say.
“Unless you’re actually disturbed, then you’re capable of understanding that you’ve chosen Elain, you’ve neglected me and have chosen her. I don’t blame you, the heart wants what it wants. But atleast grow a pair and say it to my fucking face. How dare you come to me and demand I stop seeing my friend?”
“ Y/n, let me just-”
“ No, i’m saying what I’m going to say then me and you never have to talk unless it’s absolutely necessary.” The last bit of anger you had, fired up the question you had been asking yourself for a while.
“Why did you give her my sweater when you said you’d never give it to anyone. Why would you ever give her what’s mine? From my laundry basket? Are you truly heartless or just plain stupid? And why do you care about what im doing? You’ve made it clear we’re over.” You swallowed back your tears, determination winning over the burning behind your eyes, no fucking way would you cry in front of him.
His words devoid of any sense of emotion rattled you. He ignored everything you said as he gave his stupid answer.
“First of all, it’s just polyester. You’re acting like a child over a shirt. And you’re my mate, so I think I get some say in who you see.” As if his words triggered something, an obnoxious golden thread snapped itse in your chest. The weight of it heavy with sadness and betrayal.
He looked bored and uninterested as he stared you down. “I’ve always wanted a mated and when you first arrived, the bond snapped into place, hence why I fucked you for over a year. And I almost told you about it but then Elain came along and I realized I love her more than I want a mate. You know, The Mother is cruel, she should’ve just made me and her mates so we could’ve skipped this ugly little moment. Oh well-”
A grunt escapes as he staggered back from your punch. That arrogant, hypocritical piece of shit knew you were his mate, he knew it every single time he bedded you, he knew it when you cried and laughed, he knew it when you told him how much you wanted one.
He knew and he didn’t care.
A whirlwind of emotions hit you as the bond intensified. A headache crept in as you turned away and left in silence, your head filling with questions.
How could you face him without the urge to punch again? Did Elain know all this? Did anyone? How could you stay here without wanting to kill him? And why was your face wet?
You halted, a trembling hand reaching for your face. Tears flowed, and a humorless, empty laugh escaped you. You hurried back to your room, sobs breaking through. Collapsing onto the bed, waves of sadness, heartbreak, and betrayal overwhelmed you.
————————————
You stayed in your room, wallowing in self-pity for the next few days without eating or seeing anyone. The House put several plates of food on the table next to you but you just felt nauseous. Your friends had reached out and tried to talk to you only to be met with your silence, it speaking loud enough for them to understand you didn’t want to see anyone.
A knock made you snap your head up as the person persisted. Irritation sparked in you as the knocks kept up. Letting out a sound of annoyance you got up, letting your legs get adjusted from the days of not using them, before strutting over and throwing the door open only to be met with by Cassian and Feyre.
“ Oh, what are you doing here, I think I’ve made myself very clear. I’m really not inte the mood for this.” You sensed an intervention and there couldn’t possibly be a worse time. They ignored you, much to your dismay, and just stepped in and plopped down on one of the plush sofas that decorated your room.
“ Y/n, we haven’t seen you for almost a week. I’ve accepted you don’t want to see anyone but i’m starting to get really worried. Please know that whatever’s burdening you doesn’t have to weigh on your shoulders alone. We’re here for you and if you don’t want to talk to us then maybe Azriel? I know you like each other and have some connection.” Your stomach dropped when she mentioned his name.
"No, absolutely not Azriel. I never want to see that lying son of a bitch ever." They appeared alarmed and confused since you always spoke highly of him. Feyre and Cassian were the only ones aware of the true nature of your relationship with him. They had supported you, and were the only ones shocked about the sweater Elain wore, knowing its significance to you.
"What do you mean? What did he do?" They rose to give you a hug, noticing your eyes glossing over. Sitting on either side of you, they held you as you poured out the details. In the safety of your friends’ embrace, you told the painful details of Azriel's betrayal. The room echoed with the weight of your emotions as they listened, offering comfort and understanding.
"I feel so stupid. I know he's my mate, but I still feel betrayed. He made it clear we were just sleeping together, but there were so many mixed signals, and I just... I don't know. I have no anger left; I honestly don't care anymore. And I know it's not Elain's fault because she doesn't know we're mates, but I'm afraid I'll hurt her if I see her near Azriel. Gods, I really admire Lucien. I wonder how he's gone this long without breaking down." You shook your head as you looked to them. Their expression was laced with sadness and anger towards the spymaster.
“ I’ll kick his ass today at training, I’m so sorry honey.” Cassian was filled with conflict and anger at his dear friend being put through this. And Feyre didn’t look better as she glared at the door as if Azriel might suddenly appear. They were finally both mated and could imagine the pain of their mate doing something like this.
“ Y/n, do you want to come with me and stay at the River House? Maybe some time away from him will do you good. Lucien is also staying there and he has been down lately too. I’ve talked to him and your situations are very similar. Maybe you should talk to him.” Feyre held your hand, her voice gentle as she gave you a smile when you nodded, accepting the offer.
Cassian walked over to your closet and packed you a bag of clothes while Feyre led you to your vanity and brushed through your hair. She pulled it into one of the simpler styles you usually went for. You went onto the bathroom and took a quick shower. Cassian knocked softly and handed you a change of clothes. You felt an overwhelming gratitude for your friends caring nature as tears welled up in your eyes. They approached with laughter, and it sparked a genuine smile from you. Gods, you loved your friends.
—————————
Azriel flew back to The House after spending the day with Elain and dropping her off outside the River House. Though he loved Elain, she hadn’t reciprocated his feelings and it grated his nerves. He threw away a perfectly good mate. She should be loving him back too. As he entered The House, the unusual silence struck him. Cassian and Nesta’s typical noise was absent, and the absence of any sound from you heightened his worry. Azriel anxiously opened doors and searched every corner, looking for any sign of anyone.
He remembered that it was Sunday, the day of their usual family dinner. He let out a sigh of relief and changed before flying to the estate.
————————————
Your wineglass paused mid-air as Azriel walked in, placing a kiss on Elain's shoulder. She glanced at Lucien, subtly distancing herself. Despite her evident discomfort, Azriel nonchalantly put his arm around her. You felt bad for Elain. Maybe she wasn’t feeling Azriel anymore but didn’t have the heart to tell him.
A snarl ripped you from your thoughts as Lucien stood up looking murderous. Elain looked up at him with a hint of relief as Azriel simply pulled her closer and stared at him, face unreadable.
“Get your arm off her before I kill you.” Luciens voice came out gritted and you instinctively moved away a bit, not daring to get too close to the seething male witnessing his mate feel uncomfortable. Lucien was a levelheaded male and it took a lot for him to get really angry, so anyone with half a brain knew not to tread to closely. Rhysand next to him, stood up aswell, sensing that there probably would be a fight, ready to intervene.
“You’re going to kill me? I’d like to see you try.”
That was definitely the wrong thing to say because Elain frowned and pushed his arm away, making her way over to Lucien, calming him down by grabbing his hand shyly. He still held eye contact with Azriel, slightly smiling as Azriel grew angry.
“Don’t lay your hands on her again. If i ever see you making her uncomfortable, I’ll hang you with your own insides.” Elain looked at him with wide eyes and dragged him further down the table.
“Okay, what the actual fuck? What is going on and why are you looking at y/n like that?” Rhysand’s voice broke whatever trance was going on. Your interest peaked as your eyes slid over to Azriel’s only to find them filled with his usual boredom mixed with anger.
You let out a laugh, not being able to stop as you thought about how ridiculous he was being.
“ Well, let’s see. Azriel is my mate and he kept it hidden from me since the day I met him. Oh, and we fucked around for a year or so before he became a dick and started ignoring me, stopped coming to our planned meetings and I finally understood it was because of Elain. But I don’t blame her, I blame him. Hmm… what else? Right! He knew about us being mated and wished he was mated to her instead, and look how that turned out. The one you left me for doesn’t even want you anymore Azriel, how does that make you feel, mate?”
You bit out the last words with poison as you gave him a half smirk. Elain approached you, as everyone soaked up the information. She held your hands in her shaking ones and looked at you with a pained expression.
“ Y/n, please believe me, I didn’t know you two were seeing each other, let alone were mates. He told me you were just friends and nothing more. Had I known, I wouldn’t have ever been with him. And if i’m honest I thought i wanted to be with him, but I want to get to know my mate.” Before she could ramble on you pulled her into a hug, feeling bad for her. She hadn’t know and still apologized.
“Elain, I assure you, I don't hold any blame towards you. I'm happy you want to get to know Lucien. Trust me, he's genuinely funny and nice when he's not being a sarcastic ass.” Laughter filled the air as you and Elain shared a moment, lightening the mood.
You let her go as she got closer to Lucien. No matter how much you wanted to seek your mate out for comfort, you couldn’t let it happen. You knew there was only one thing left.
“ Azriel, I reject the bond. I don’t know how I can ever be with you after this. Not only did you lie to me, you lied to everyone. I’m never going to trust you completely and I think we need to work on ourselves. But it won’t be with each other.” With that you turned on your heel and left for your room, leaving behind a shattered bond and pleading a mate.
———————————————
Azriel's three-month-long begging for a second chance haunted you, likely triggered by witnessing Elain and Lucien's kiss in the courtyard. While you were happy for them, a lingering sadness stayed you, realizing you would never experience a shared bond. Azriel had robbed you of the beauty of a mating bond, and forgiveness felt out of the question. Suffocated by him, you made your way to Feyre and Rhysand's office, ready to ask the dreaded question that had lingered within you for a while.
“ Come in!” Feyre’s gentle voice probed you to open the door as you slithered in. They both looked at you with caution. After breaking the bond, you had been bedridden for three weeks. The physical and mental toll it took on you was overwhelming and some days you questioned your decision. But then you remembered what led you here and just powered through.
“ Guys, I promise I feel much better, so please no more mother-henning. Especially you Rhys.” Feyre let out an amused giggle as Rhys just narrowed his eyes in mock irritation. The weight of what you had to say hung heavy on your shoulders, but you knew they'd support you. Opting for honesty, you decided to rip off the bandaid.
“ I want to move back to the Day Court. I love it here but I miss my home, my siblings, my parents, my friends. I wasn’t supposed to stay this long and even though I love velaris, I can’t live here so close to… him. Not only that but I’ve been sending letters to Helion and he is very eager to meet Lucien and has asked me to check if he wants to come.” You decided to drop the last bomb, asking them for a huge favor.
“I also wanted to see if you could erase my memories of Azriel. Not everything, just the whole fiasco. I genuinely want to move on, and I feel like I won't be able to if I keep dwelling on it. Believe me, I've tried to avoid him and the situation for the past months, but the thoughts still linger.”
They were silent for a moment, likely speaking to each other through their mind. You met their saddened eyes as they nodded.
“I'm sorry you feel this way, Y/n. I genuinely wanted you to feel at home here, but of course we won't force you to stay. We'll erase the memories, but only if you promise to visit someday. Perhaps even let us come to you? I've heard the Day Court's sun is not to be played with, almost rivaling the Summer Court.” You giggled and nodded at Rhysand's words, tears streaming down your face – a mix of happiness and sadness. Overwhelmed with emotions, you embraced them as they gave you a big hug, one of the last you realized.
————————————
You surveyed your now empty room, memories of passionate moments and heartfelt kisses with Azriel lingering in the air. It felt like a distant past, a different life, a different version of you. Shouldering your bag, you descended the stairs. Rhysand had winnowed all your belongings back to your old quarters in Helion's palace. Lucien and Elain, already packed, awaited you at the breakfast table. It was time to share one last meal as residents of this house.
After announcing the news, Lucien and Elain asked if they could join you, insisting on the top-class tour of the court you had promised him. Delighted, you agreed, more than happy to bring your friends along as you all headed back home.
The table was filled with your friends as you shared one last meal, Azriel's seat empty as he was out on a mission. Unable to face him in fear of lingering emotions, you insisted on leaving while he was away.
Feyre stood at the head of the table, a mix of emotions visible in her eyes. She cleared her throat, capturing everyone's attention.
“Today marks the beginning of a new chapter for Y/n, Lucien, and Elain. Though farewells are always bittersweet, we must embrace change and growth. Y/n, you've been a cherished member of our court and a life-long friend, and while your path diverges, our bonds remain unbroken. Never forget that you will always have a home here.”
She smiled warmly, addressing each one individually, “Lucien, my first and dear fae friend, Elain, my kind older sister, your presence has brought joy to our home. The Day Court awaits, and I have no doubt that your light will shine brightly there.”
She raised her glass, “To new beginnings, may your paths be lit by the stars that connect us all. Safe travels, my friends.”
The room echoed with the clinking of glasses, a heartfelt farewell lingering in the air.
————————————
After tearful goodbyes, Feyre and Rhysand exchanged a glance, understanding the weight of your request. Pulling you aside, Feyre spoke softly, “Are you ready for this?"
You nodded, feeling Rhysand place a gentle hand on your forehead as Feyre held the back of your head. Together, they wove their magic, erasing the memories of Azriel and the pain attached to them. As the magic settled, you blinked, a new easiness in your eyes.
Rhys offered a reassuring smile, “May this bring you peace on your journey, Y/n.” You gave them a final hug, walking back to Lucien and Elain and winnowed back to your home.
—————
TWO YEARS LATER
At Helion's annual grand ball, you moved through the crowd, the vibrant atmosphere alive with laughter and music. You glanced around as you spotted your friends.
Approaching your dear friends, you hugged and greeted all of your friends, updating them about your life as you heared the uptade of theirs. Then, unexpectedly, you found yourself face to face with Azriel. His expression revealed a mix of confusion and curiosity. This was the first time you had met him simce you moved. Your friends told you that he was often gone on long missions, only staying briefly to report to Feyre and Rhysand before heading back out. Unbeknownst to you, your friends had slowly decreased their conversations and meetings with Azriel and he was now more of an employee than a friend. They loved both of you but there was no way to just let him back in as a dear friend after what he did.
“Hi, Azriel. It’s been a while. How’s everything going?”
He nodded, "Indeed. I must admit, I'm surprised to see you here."
You chuckled, “Really? I mean it is my home after all. Why is it shocking?”
Azriel furrowed his brows, "I thought... after everything, you hated me."
Your eyes widened in confusion, “Hate? I don’t know what you mean, Azriel. Why would I hate you? You’re a dear friend of mine.”
Realization dawned in Azriel's eyes, “Your memories...” But before he could continue, Rhysand pulled him away.
Azriel's realization hit him hard. The weight of the moment pressed upon him, and he felt a deep sense of remorse. Seeing you free from the memories, both good and bad, brought a profound ache.
He swallowed hard, the truth settling heavily in his chest. He had caused so much pain that you chose to erase him from your mind. A sickness crept over him, the regret of his actions piercing through as he watched you move through the ball, blissfully unaware of the history you once shared. Surrounded by the festive atmosphere, he felt a deep loss and the haunting echo of an irreversible mistake.
You looked happier and healthier than you had ever been. Deciding to not disturb the peace you created, he simply disappeared into his shadows, seeking out their comfort as he always had.
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jymwahuwu · 7 months
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(Ignore this if this isn’t your thing)
I think about sugar daddy Yan jing yuan- man got money I know it I know he also prob has more then 2 black cards and lives in a nice home. He be such a sweet sugar daddy but also manipulative and sneaky too honesty. Yan sugar daddy jing yuan pays for EVERYTHING and I mean everything- bills? Done, high education degree?, paid for all the years you take, food? Done, shopping?- just know you can buy whatever you want with daddy money but you also have to get him a nice and cute pair of lingerie for him to see on you UwU.
And it’s not even thag hard for him too- he has the money and the status I mean- if the great general makes dinner reservation I just know the owner will literally be the one to physically be the host, take your orders, cook the meal themselves with their best chief, and serve it with the best personality and smile. Honestly it be no suprised you get the best views or the entire place is slightly empty bc of his status
Shops will absolutely bend over back for him when he walks around, if he ask if there’s a specific peice of lingerie set that they say it was out of stock- suddnly it’s there-
Always he makes sure your given the best in life UwU
He does all this with a few conditions that you have to follow. Each day 8 kisses, always hold him when in public, sit on lap when he’s in his office reading documents, and most importantly take his cock every hour 7 days a week. Yan sugar daddy jing is essentially molding you to a pretty wife for him.
don’t even think about ending this with him because you may see him as a only cash and sugar daddy but to him- your practically his girlfriend soon to be bride to soon to wife. If you do try all that money he given you will just be gone all of a sudden and your left with practically nothing. You’ll have to come back to jing since he always provides you so well.
Once you crawl back he’ll go UwU ofc baby one thing. And that one thing is he gonna fuking you Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday week- every hour, every minute, every second night after night sevens days a week (totally not a song reference 🫢) because after all that it so your too fucked to ever think you could just end things with him like that
You be play and be his pretty little wife and he will absolutely spoil you beyond your dreams. (Ik those dinner dates he takes you have to be SO NICE and these are def just mt extremes dreams to be his wife)
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Thank you for writing such length of thoughts, it was a pleasure to read, sugar daddy jing yuan is something I have never thought of before because I was not interested... but 🫣 But this one is good, I added some background stories 😚💖
CW: yandere, non-con/dub-con, manipulation, abuse of power, fem! reader
You need money, really, you need this. You need to pay your bills, maybe it's an accident, maybe it's medical bills for your important person/pet, maybe you're too exhausted to meet those credit requirements, or some other reason. You move into smaller apartments again and again, eat fast food, and sigh while watching space TV. You need to move to a planet with more opportunities, but how? As you swipe your phone screen, a dating social media ad appears in front of you.
You hesitated for a while, but you still signed up, feeling a little nervous and apprehensive. You simply filled in the information. This application should be very popular. There are users from some cosmic species you have never heard of. The photo only shows a blurry profile of you. Out of place among all the pretty, confident headshots. The introduction simply states your hobbies, you… just want to do things like kissing, cuddling, and dating. Sex is the last step. You don’t think much about it for the moment.
A few days later. You're still going about your life, only getting messages from weirdos saying things like, "I want to cum on your face," "Can you give me a clear picture of your thighs?", "It's mating season on our planet. you can come here”. You always delete and block them directly, which is a bit frustrating. And you get another new message, but this time it's a little special.
Anonymous: hi
Anonymous: want to see a picture of my little lion? 🥺 she is adorable.
You: …?
And then you do receive so many adorable photos of his pet lion that your heart melts. You open a series of topics with this user. His profile picture isn't a real person either, but a picture of a kitten showing her belly to invite pampering. You gradually learned more about him and you felt relaxed talking to him, but of course he didn't forget to discuss...intimate things with you.
Then, the user invites you to meet to discuss more details, and even the cost of traveling through space is prepared for you. That is an electronic certification of a VIP ticket. The stewards of those spaceships bow to you and are concerned about your needs, preparing exquisite meals, blankets and pillows for you. You've never been so far away from your own planet and treated so considerately.
The arrival place written on the ticket is Xianzhou Luofu...?
You quietly search for information about this space civilization, and shyly imagine what kind of person "he" would be. After you got off the spacecraft, you thought about finding public transportation, but someone was waiting for you there and took you to the General's Mansion.
You: Wait...did you take me to the wrong place...
The assistant smiled slightly and left, leaving you standing helpless in the garden of the General's Mansion. The one you've been chatting with for months (the one who was even sending you uwu and kitten love memes last night)...is - one of the seven Arbiter-Generals of the Xianzhou Alliance. General Jing Yuan?
But you knew it was him as soon as the burly, majestic man with long white hair opened his mouth. When he caught a glimpse of you, his eyes like the golden sun lit up, and he rushed directly in front of you. He put his right hand on your soft hip and took you off the ground. "Baby, I finally meet you…" You squirmed, feeling overwhelmed and embarrassed, "You-you put me down first..."
"Oh… sure, my bad." After being reminded, Jing Yuan carefully put you down so that your legs could stand balanced on the ground. “We can’t kiss while I’m holding you like this,” he said before kissing your lips deeply. Your heart felt like a lightning strike, and you were frightened by such a meeting.
Is this normal? Is it developing too fast…?
The words and topics you prepared have no effect at all. After a luxurious dinner and confession (?), Jing Yuan carried you in his arms, entered the room and started caressing and breeding. You wrap your hands around his neck and stare at his sculptured, delicate face, his eyes flashing with some unknown desire. Those long white strands of his hair fell on your chest and tickled. Your legs were stretched out and were sore from being pressed by his balls and cock. The white seed kept flowing out unbearably, but you were required to keep your legs clamped around his waist to better receive the seed. Your lips parted, tears kept flowing down your cheeks, moans and cries were faintly heard in your throat, and your lower body was filled with sticky and loud pounding. The previous agreement (only kisses, hugs and dates) was ignored.
You have been living in the General's Mansion since then and have no plans to return to your planet. Once you have such a plan, Jing Yuan will plead with you with puppy eyes to stay, even though he has no intention of allowing this. Then as you describe, the general pays for all your expenses, even before you ask for them. There are no credit points in your bank account (you don’t know why it became 0, and the account was even canceled later…). You can only use the two cards he gave you. Now, even though you are thirsty while shopping, you use his card to buy drinks instead of your own money. He pampers you and you can buy any beautiful clothes, shoes, whatever you want. Of course, you must also carefully select a set of underwear before you finish shopping, spread your legs on the bed and wait for him, otherwise Jing Yuan will not reimburse you for those expenses.
Kissing him at least 8 times a day and holding his hand are still required, but asking you to be by his side all the time is a bit too much, even though Jing Yuan wants that too. He is considerate and knows that you need some time to yourself, enjoy your hobbies and rest. If you want to listen to music, read a book, have a party, exercise, shop, watch a movie, just do it. As long as you don't take too long and can come back to him every night, Jing Yuan won't mind. Sitting on his lap while he reads papers is a perfect plus. You need to warm his cock, comfort him, or hide under his desk and service him for hours. Once Jing Yuan returns to the General's Mansion, it will be the beginning of a long night.
You've tried to change and leave him, but that ultimately failed. After all, you can't open a new bank account right now, and no bank in the galaxy would. There is no way to buy a return ticket...
If you do try to leave in a situation like this, you will only find that returning to him is the only way. Jing Yuan has to punish you a little and put you on the bed to start the sex marathon. When the general had to go to work, you were placed with an electric dildo the same size as him, bouncing and squirting until you learned your lesson and married him. You will be trained to be a pretty little wife, snuggling in his arms, forgetting that you just wanted to pay the bills.
Maybe you should ask him about the purpose of downloading this app in the first place. Jing Yuan is smart, but he won't lie about this. He wants you, wants to love you, and wants you to be his spouse for the rest of his life.
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nocturnalrat · 10 months
Note
toxic fwb w prowler! miles (earth 42)?
reader wants to end the fwb agreement w miles bc she’s falling in love but he’s not cs he’s got hella other girls as well. miles gaslights reader to stop her from ending the fwb agreement js cs he doesn’t want to let her go and reader tries to leave him but he only keeps kissing her lips, cutting her off mid sentence as miles successfully gets reader back into his bed🥰🤷🏻‍♀️
anon i love you! this was so much fun to write, i hope you like it
slight dubcon warning!
In retrospect, you should have known.  
The mere fact that you guys had first met each other in a dirty club downtown, with alcohol in your blood and your self-control dwindling. You had made some small talk with him, an exchange of trivial phrases, before he had given you a look that had shattered the foundation of your very being and all your self-restraint.
That first night with him had been incomparable with anything else you had experience up until that point. Breathtaking and intoxicating and better than any drug you could have gotten on the market.  
You had exchanged numbers, and to your own surprise, he had contacted you two weeks later with a ‘wanna come over?’
Needless to say, you did.
That's how you two ended up becoming friends with certain benefits.
A friendship that you now had to end because the inevitable had happened: You had developed feelings. Who could have blamed you? Miles was aloof, attractive, desirable, mysterious.
Given the long list of his lovers, he was also someone who knew how to separate love from lust, unlike you.
You were lost in your thoughts when the door opened.
"Fucking finally," you said, trying not to sound too accusatory. You had to keep reminding yourself that you weren't in a real relationship with him, that Miles’ bustling personal life was none of your business, and that he didn't owe you an explanation as to why he was late to your date.
Having feelings for him meant one thing and one thing only: unavoidable pain.
"You wanted to talk?" His voice was monotone and indifferent as always.
There was no need to beat around the bush for too long. "We need to end this.”
Once the words left you, you felt relief wash over you. Saying it hadn’t been as difficult as you had expected.
He just raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. "Why?" Short on words as ever.
You jerked back as he approached you, because you couldn't have stood being physically close to him at this moment. It would have been too much. "Because I don't want to see you anymore." Because I don't want to be hurt anymore, you added internally.  
Crossing your arms, you tried to build a confident stance, but when he stopped in front of your, you slumped your shoulders.  
He was tall - taller and stronger than you were, and his dominance in combination with his charisma made you feel small and insecure in his presence.
"And I'm supposed to believe that?" The corners of his mouth lifted into the hint of a grin.
"I don't care what you believe," you said with flushed cheeks. "It doesn’t matter. I've come to realize that this kind of friendship that we..." You fell silent. His hand had grabbed your chin and he had started stroking your lower lip with his thumb.
Oh, you knew that look in his eyes too well. Lust-filled and burning; he wanted you.
"Yeah? Go ahead," he said with nonchalance, but your heartbeat had doubled and every rational thought had been swept from your brain.
“A-Anyway… What I was trying to say was… I realized this kind of friendship isn't for me," you whispered with a trembling voice. He leaned down and placed his lips on the sensitive area of your neck, right where your pulse was. "Miles, what are you -" The rest of the sentence was lost in a moan as he began to suck on your skin.
"You were saying?" he mumbled.
He was so smug and self-satisfied, and the worst part was that he had every right to be.  
"I was saying that -"
You were interrupted again. He was kissing you. Fiercely, beguilingly - it was not an innocent kiss.
Your knees gave way. He caught you, grinning against your lips, and you felt his hands close around your waist.  Even if you had wanted to, you couldn't have escaped his strong embrace.
Well. So much for ending your friends with benefits arrangement.
"Miles - "
"Yes?"
But you didn’t get a chance to answer. His hands roamed over your body, taking your face in his hands. His lips were everywhere - on your cheeks, your chin, your throat, your neck.
"This is not - not a good idea," you managed to say between his kisses.
Before you knew it, he had tossed you over his shoulder and carried you onto his bed, leaning over you and looking at you with dark and lust-veiled eyes.
"And why is that?” He ran his hand over the exposed skin on your stomach where your shirt had slid up. “Why do you want to stop seeing me?”
Goosebumps came over you, and you felt your resolve vanish into thin air. You didn't want to admit that you had feelings for him; it was kind of embarrassing.
He pulled your shirt over your head and began to kiss every part of your exposed body. You half-heartedly tried to push him away from you, but to no avail.
"I asked you a question," he said, and you were so devoted to him, physically and mentally, that you would have done anything for him at that moment.
"Because I -" A gasp escaped you as his hand slipped into your pants.
"Because you…?"
You were wet enough for him to slide two fingers inside you right away. You threw your head back, and curled your fingers into his broad shoulders.
"Say it," he demanded.
God, he was so unnerving, but also all-encompassing and persuasive at the same time. All you could do was tell the truth. "Because I...” You swallowed. “Because I have feelings for you."
The haughty grin that appeared on his face told you everything you needed to know.
"But you already knew that, huh?" you asked.
Instead of answering, he leaned down again and pressed his lips against yours. It didn't take long for you to come - it never did when you were with him.
He always knew which buttons to push, which places on your body to touch to drive you to the brink of desperation and madness.
"Good girl," he said, and something inside you broke.
He was everything you wanted, and at the same time everything you would never have.
But the way he held you, the way he said your name… it almost sounded like you were something he didn't want to lose.
Hope was for fools, and you had never been one of the wise ones.
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theboombutton · 3 months
Text
Bad Fictional Data vs Fictional Bad Data
WARNING: This post will include discussion of a name that might be Alice Dyer's deadname. I won't be calling Alice by this name or using it in the context of that name being a pointer to Alice, but I will be using the name, uncensored, when talking about where and why the name appeared in chdb.xls .
----
You may know that as part of the ARG, the sleuths on Statement Remains uncovered a document called chdb.xls, allegedly a list that has something to do with The Magnus Institute. There's a list of names, ID numbers, first and last names, dates of birth, and information apparently related to each person's "score" in an assortment of psychological/personality tests. Three of the names in particular have stood out in a lot of analyses: Samama Khalid, Gerard Kaey [sic], and Connor Dyer.
You likely don't know that the commonly linked version of the spreadsheet, ported to Google Docs and linked in the TMAGP ARG Masterdoc, is presented out of order. (I'm guessing they didn't lock down editing until it was already all out of order from various people messing with it - totally understandable, this is not a callout post, thank you for making this easily accessible to people.)
But let me tell you about something I discovered by looking at the spreadsheet in its original order, and the almost certainly incorrect rabbit hole of theorizing it has sent me down.
Bad Fictional Data
Until episode 2 I had the same thought about the Dyer listed in the spreadsheet that I think most people did: that it was Alice's deadname, and that she had therefore been one of the Institute's young subjects. But after Alice had absolutely no reaction when Sam mentioned the Magnus Institute to her in episode 2, I now think this is significantly less likely.
Don't get me wrong: it's still reasonable to think that the Dyer listed in chdb.xls is Alice. Maybe she had some kind of supernatural experience that wiped her memory. (It probably wasn't that Alice was too young to remember, as the Dyer on the spreadsheet is listed as being at Piaget Stage 3, which occurs from 7-11 years old; but it's always possible that the Magnus Institute was using the names of legitimate psychological tests to hide their tracks when recording more esoteric data.) The point is, this isn't hard evidence that Alice has no connection to the Magnus Institute; it just made me go looking for more evidence.
I went back to the spreadsheet to look for more clues about whether or not this was Alice's deadname. What I found instead was some extremely sloppy fake data at the bottom of the spreadsheet.
For context, here are first ten names in the spreadsheet:
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Note how each ID begins with the name's first and last initial.
Now check out the last ten names:
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Not only do these IDs no longer always match their subjects' names, they occur in order: CD, EF, GH, IJ, KL, MN, OP, QR, ST, UV. The first names of each pair match the first letter of each ID, but many, though not all, of the surnames don't match the second letter.
My first thought was that whoever Rusty Quill had contracted to generate these names had gotten sloppy at the end of the list, created the IDs all at once using this alphabetical pattern, and picked names to fill in that roughly matched the IDs. But hey, we could use this to our advantage! Any name that was filled in as part of a series of IDs with an alphabetical pattern like this could be removed from consideration for red string analysis - we'd know they were meaningless fakes added by a lazy contractor, and not clues or characters that might show up again later.
Scrolling back up the spreadsheet, we can see the person generating the data having more care the earlier we go. We find the beginning of the AA/BC/DE/FG/HI pattern at line 136, but at first, the names mostly conform to the initials they've been given. JK09874 "Josie Jordan" at line 154 is the first break from the "first two letters of the ID are their initials" pattern; and breaks occur more often the further you go down the sheet.
Scrolling up to before line 136 (AA09911 - Aaron Atkinson), while the pattern isn't yet at AB/CD/EF/GH levels of obviousness, the first initials are still in alphabetical order. Zoe Hart follows Yara Logan follows Xavier Freeman follows Wyatt Edwards. The data creator skips a few letters - for example Niamh Fenton is followed by Phoebe Emmett, and S and T are together in the same line in Skye Travers.
We can follow this less-obvious version of the alphabetical pattern up to an abrupt break right at line 118, above which the IDs don't follow an alphabetical pattern at all. (They might follow a different pattern, but it's not one that I've found yet.) So that means we can discount all the names in line 118 and below as purely fake, generated lazily by a contractor, and not worthy of our attention for the purposes of red-stringing. Right?
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What the fuck?!
(highlight is my own, it is not present in the original document)
My first thought was that the sloppy data generator had done the funniest thing imaginable, sending everyone on a wild goose chase about Alice's deadname just by having the name "Dyer" on the brain while looking for a surname that started with D. This would be Very Funny. No plot relevance, no implications, just the brain fart that launched a thousand theories.
My second thought was that maybe Connor Dyer was the last legit name on the list, and whoever started filling the rest of the sheet in with alphabetical junk data was inspired by the "CD" initials in the first place - whoever it was went on from there.
These are both valid thoughts! But I prefer my third thought:
What if it's on purpose?
Fictional Bad Data
There is a very obvious break between the set of data that doesn't look obviously* fake, and the set of data that is immediately identifiable as such. If we assume that this was intentional - and I want to reiterate that it all being unintentional is still a very real possibility here - why would someone at Rusty Quill want the data to be structured like this?
If the sharp dividing line between reasonable-seeming data and obviously fake data is intentional on RQ's part, it would suggest that we should take the data above row 118 as in-universe real data, and the data below row 118 as in-universe falsified data. It suggests that someone, either at the Institute or after its demise, was adding nonexistent children to the roster of The Magnus Institute. Why would someone want to do that?
There are all kinds of possible reasons, but here are a few off the top of my and my theorizing buddies' heads:
Financial fraud (institutional edition). If the Magnus Institute received funding on a per-child basis, they'd have an incentive to inflate their numbers.
Financial fraud (researcher edition). One or more people on staff were blowing off their child-analysis sessions and recording fake numbers for fake children. This would be ballsy as hell if they could be fired for it, but it was the Magnus Institute, so there's decent odds they couldn't be.
Scientific fraud (faking conclusions edition). The Magnus Institute in the Protocolverse claimed to be doing research on giftedness in children, which is the kind of thing that you'd normally publish in a scientific journal. It's not unheard-of for dickhead academics to falsify data to generate statistically significant results, since statistically insignificant results aren't going to get you published.
Scientific fraud (obscuring paranormal bullshit edition). If the Magnus Institute was using legitimate psychological test names to record Fear-related test results, it's possible their results showed different patterns from what you would expect from the real tests. They could have added the fake children to balance out the dataset as a whole.
Pseudonyms. The children are all real, the Institute just started using fake names for them for privacy purposes. They couldn't go back and change the names they'd already written properly for some reason. Probably something paranormal.
Those are all pretty interesting possibilities, and if we could narrow them down, it might tell us something about what things were like at the Magnus Institute before it burned down!
And the other big question is: why did RQ make the dividing line between the two sections, the first likely-fake entry, Connor Dyer?
One straightforward reason could be as a troll, a red herring to watch fans get in a lather over. And once the community inevitably noticed all the obviously falsified entries, RQ could eat popcorn and watch us lose our minds over whether or not that's even a real entry! (That sounds really fun, I would absolutely do that.)
But let's dig a little deeper, and look at what Connor Dyer being on the border between the real and fake entries would mean in-universe. Because of its position as the border between real and fake, it would be very easy for that entry to be accidentally included in the wrong group - a real research subject discarded as fake, or perhaps more interestingly, a fake research subject accidentally reclassified as real.
Remember, if a name is fake in the context of the Magnus Institute's research, that doesn't mean that the name itself is made up. If I was trying to think of a name that fit the initials CD, and those were the initials of my next door neighbor's kid, I might just write their name in as a lark. Especially if it was my first time trying to get away with falsifying information: this is a kid that verifiably exists and lives in the area.
My theory, supported primarily by my love for The Implications instead of actual evidence
Twenty years on, after all institutional memory of the fraud was long gone, trans icon Alice Dyer applies to work for the OIAR - an institution that (according to this theory) has an unofficial preference for hiring former Magnus Institute kids.
They are very confused when Alice proceeds to act nothing like a former Magnus Institute kid. It doesn't occur to anyone that her entry might have been falsified. What reason would anyone have to do that?
----
* Of course people with a background in data analysis or statistics will see immediately that even above line 118 this is a wild-ass dataset that would raise red flags for falsification, but at least it's not "the alphabet over and over" levels of obvious.
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seeingivy · 11 months
Text
befriend your landlord 
roommate eren x f!reader
you and eren reconcile after meeting your eccentric landlord
**find the series masterlist here
content: drinking, certified nut job landlord kenny ackerman, mentions of thanksgiving and fascism, mentions of a little meow meow 
an: I do not subscribe to canon lonely levi he actually just has a very alive mother and a weirdo freak uncle bc I said so. buckle in girlfriends!!! (and boyfriends and all the friends) also this chapter is based on a very real thing that happened to one of my friends in college I just think its funny...also ive evolved from calling this a mini-series cuz I plotted way too much and now cuz we gotta build the trust yk they are VERY MUCH IDIOTS IN LOVE
previous part linked here
“So we can’t drive because…” 
“He likes to drink. Like, an insane amount.” 
“What does that have to do with us?” 
You and Eren were currently swinging your feet on the green bench, the train station bustling in front of you. The two of you were riding into the city to meet with your landlord today. Kenny Ackerman. You were officially being added to the lease. But apparently, it was a bigger ordeal than just signing the papers. 
You’d thought against it originally. Signing a very legal, very binding agreement to live with Eren, to stay with him for the foreseeable future. It didn’t seem like the best idea, given how the two of you were as of late. Awkward, distant, aimless. 
If you had things your way, you would have been moving out, you would have never even been his roommate in the first place. You had even tried apartment hunting again, just to get away from Eren. For good. 
The second you tried, you immediately remembered the reason you had to live with Eren in the first place. The options were hardly to die over. Hole in the wall, bathtub for a bed, your old physics professor.
You were stuck with Eren, whether you liked it or not. And that meant you had to go, convince Kenny Ackerman you were ‘worthy of living in the apartment’ (Eren’s words, not yours), and then sign the lease. 
Eren had been coaching you for a better part of the morning, this conversation being the longest the two of you had talked in the past few weeks. 
Some part of talking to him was becoming easier. The two of you weren’t exactly having the conversations you had before, but it was civil. Nice even. It was the only reason you were able to stomach this entire thing.
“I would never drive you home drunk, Y/N.” 
“I could have driven us home.” 
“Trust me. He can be very convincing.” 
Eren had been coaching you on everything you needed to know about Kenny. Don’t call him Mr. Ackerman, he will hate you. If Kuchel, his sister, is there then make sure that you call her Mrs. Ackerman. Don’t call her Kuchel until she tells you to call her Kuchel. The sooner she says that, the better. Make sure to drink anything he offers you, the pink lemonade smells bad but it’s not too horrible. If his nephew is there, don’t make eye contact unless he makes it with you first. 
He was somehow more nervous introducing you to his landlord (and his landlord’s family??) than introducing you to his own parents. Granted, they kind of put a pin in that entire thing, but he seemed way more at ease then than he did right now. 
You can see the timer on the screen, signaling that the next train would be here in less than a minute. You nudge his shoulder and the two of you jump off the bench, hesitantly linking arms as you push through the crowd in front of you.
The second the doors slide open, everyone pushes forward, very quickly sliding into every available seat on the train. This left you and Eren to share a single pole to hold onto as the train started moving. You secure your knuckles right under his, the two of you standing in silence, less than a foot away from each other. He leans down, his face even closer than it was before and he whispers into your ear. 
“Brace your feet.” 
“I know how to stand on a train, Eren.” 
He doesn’t respond right away and you turn to find him looking down at the ground, avoiding meeting your gaze. You were just kidding. But then again, you did yell at him last week, so how is he supposed to know the difference? 
“Six stops. Then we’ll get off.” 
You nod, bracing your feet against the ground as the train starts moving. The train is stuffy, warm, and way over capacity. You can smell the girl standing directly next to you’s perfume, the prune smell so strong it was making your head spin. But worse than the smell was the heat, the congregation of people making the air congested, your hair sticking to the back of your neck from the sweat. 
The two of you are pressed against each other, standing awkwardly. In silence. You did that a lot lately. This thing between the two of you was…delicate. You’re not sure what it is but the usual comfort, ease that you and Eren had was all but eliminated, left with this quietness. If you made a joke, it was lost to him entirely. If he said something that caught you off guard, you usually avoided responding by leaving the room. You had shouted at him and he made fun of you, so that didn’t leave much room for comfort. 
The train quickly lurches, slowing down all of a sudden. You quickly lose your footing, stumbling in the air as the train stops completely. Before you can fall, Eren secures his hand against your waist, stabilizing you in the air as the train comes to a full stop. You watch a few people get off the train and switch with those getting on, your breath still shaky from losing your balance. 
You feel him lean down, his head directly next to yours as he whispers in your ear, again. His hand is still secured around your waist, holding you steady. Even though the train wasn’t moving. 
“So when I said brace your feet, I basically meant-” 
“Shut up, Eren.” 
“We should get a leash for the ride back. Lock you up real nice so you won’t move.” 
“Perfect! We can use after too, when I have to drag your drunk ass home.” 
The two of you are laughing, readjusting yourself against the pole as the train starts again. His hands are still holding you steady and you can feel your cheeks flushing pink. From the heat. Obviously. 
There’s always moments like this - ones where it feels like nothing’s changed at all. You try not to think too hard about them. They’ve always gotten you in trouble. 
He tightens his grip on your waist every time the train lurches and stops, for all five of the stops. You avoid the pounding in your chest, which only stops when you both hop off the train at the end of the line. 
As you wait for Eren to pay for the return tickets, you spot a tiny black kitten, just at the end of the sidewalk. You immediately run down, nuzzling the tiny little cat as you pet it. As you breathe in the air, you immediately sneeze twice, your eyes watery from the sensation. You immediately hear the sound of a camera clicking, to find Eren standing over you, his phone in hand. 
“What was that for?” 
“Two kitties!”
“Ew.” 
He holds his hand out, pulling you up as the two of you walk down the block to Kenny’s apartment. Your hands are at your side, lightly brushing against Eren’s every time he leans over, making room for the other people on the sidewalk. The sun is setting on top of the buildings, the air slightly chilled. The two of you stop, standing directly on Kenny’s porch. He glances over, giving you one last look. 
“Why are you so nervous, Eren?” 
“He can be really weird. And he’s going to grill you. Just- we have to bear with him to keep the rent the way it is and live together so, just don’t blow it, okay?” 
“I really appreciate your vote of confidence, Eren. Your faith in me is rejuvenating” 
“That’s- shut up, you know that’s not what I meant.” 
The two of you give each other a smile, as Eren turns to the side and knocks on the door. 
“Why didn’t you ring the doorbell?” you whisper. 
“His doorbell is La Cucaracha.” he responds. 
The door swings open and you’re greeted with three faces staring down at you - identical sets of jet black hair and gray eyes glistening in the lamplight of the street. At the sight of you, their faces all visibly droop, as they all welcome you in. 
“He looks too young for you, Levi. And he brought a pretty girl.” 
“Those are the tenants, Mom. Not Erwin.” 
The two of them shuffle down the hall, pushing past into the room. 
“Kenny Ackerman. You must be Eren’s new roommate.” 
“Yes, that’s me. It’s so nice to meet you.” 
You hold your hand out, him nearly jostling your entire body as he shakes your hand. He idles down the hallway to where the other two had gone, leaving you and Eren in the walkway. You whisper to Eren as the two of you hang your coats on the rack. 
“They hate me already.” 
“That’s not true. Kuchel called you pretty.” 
You roll your eyes, the two of you awkwardly shuffling into the living room, where the three of them were sitting across from you. It’s only then that you can get a better look at them and realize that you know one of them. Levi. Your old physics professor. The one who you cried to about not having a roommate that took pity on you and let you sleep in his house. 
“Hi Professor Levi. It’s been a while.” 
“I see you’ve found a roommate. I can’t believe you found a place to live in one week.” 
“I thought you said the two of you had been living together for a few months, Eren.” 
“We have, Kenny.”
“Ah, right. I was just looking around at other apartments for the past week just to see if anything popped up on the market. And they didn’t. So I’m here.” 
Eren ducks his head down, the expression on his face dark. He whispers into your ear as the three of them start chattering, still discussing Erwin. 
“What? You want to move out?” 
“No, no. I was just looking. It must be awkward for you to live with a girl who isn’t your girlfriend, you know?” 
He leans over, his eyes teetering between annoyed and irritated. 
“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that.” 
The doorbell rings, throwing you and Eren out of the conversation you were having. You watch the three of them jump up and rush to the door, fixing their hair and their clothes as they make it to the door. You and Eren stand up, peeking your heads down the hallway as you watch the three of them greet Erwin. Your old political science professor. 
First Levi now Erwin too? You can feel your cheeks burning from embarrassment, remembering that you had actually cried to the two of them twice - the first time to Levi when you were jumping houses and he agreed to let you stay with them and a second time when Erwin offered you an extra pillow before you went to sleep. 
“Hello. I’m Erwin Smith.” 
“Eren Yeager. This is my roommate, Y/N.” 
“Ah, Y/N. How are you? You figured out your living situation fast!” 
You don’t miss Eren glaring daggers at you out of the corner of your eye as you give Levi and Erwin an awkward smile, shaking your sweaty palms against their hands.
“Okay kid. You and Kuchel should go fix the dinner with Erwin in the kitchen. I have to talk to these two here.”  
Why are you and Eren here the first time Levi’s family is meeting his long term boyfriend? 
You look over to Eren whose irritation has very quickly been replaced with nervousness. Kenny is staring the two of you down, the two of you squished together on his very tiny couch. 
“So. You go to Shiganshina?” 
You feel your voice tangle in your throat, suddenly intimidated by Kenny staring you down. You can hear Eren’s voice echoing in your head, his angry look seared in your mind, your voice not coming out. He’s going to grill you. Don’t blow it. 
“Yes. She’s an Applied Kinesiology major. She’s very smart.” 
You look over, silently thanking the gods that Eren answered for you. 
“Can you pay rent?” 
“She has been, for the past two months.” 
He nods, leaning over the table as he stares you down. 
“I’ll give you a situation. Respond accordingly.” 
You nod, clenching your hands into little fists against the couch. 
“You just got off of work. You’re really tired but you have to stop by the store to get groceries. You’ve purchased them all. What do you do after?” 
You look over at Eren, giving him a weary stare. What the fuck kind of question is that? Is there even a right answer to this? 
“Well, I would leave the store. And take my cart, if I had one, to my car. I’d probably put my stuff away, return the cart, and then just drive home, put everything in the fridge and the cabinets.” 
He nods, taking in your answer as he leans back in his chair. “Do you like Eren?” 
“What?” 
“As a roommate.” 
“Oh. Right. Yeah, he’s great.” 
“Why did you start rooming with him?” 
You can’t lie. It seems wrong to tell him that your old roommates chose not to room with you for the next year - he was sure to not think you were a good fit if you said that. But if he found out you were lying, it would be even worse. 
“Well you see, she-”
“I asked her, Eren.” 
You feel him move his knee, pressing his against yours as his fingers curl around your hand. You feel him squeeze your hand twice, his green eyes warm as he looks at you. Right. You can do this. 
“I used to live with a few of my friends last year. I didn’t really know, but they had picked other arrangements without telling me, so I was left without a roommate for around a week. Eren was nice enough to offer me the empty spot in his room so I didn’t have to jump around from my friends' places every night.” 
He stares the two of you down. You’re rubbing circles into the back of Eren’s hand, the two of you holding your breaths as you wait for his response. 
“Sucks. Kids are bitches.” 
You both squeeze, trying your best not to smile. 
“Yeah.” 
“If you kids start dating, you can't be loud at night. You’ll piss off the neighbors. You can sign the lease after dinner. You passed.” 
He gets up off the couch, his distinct smoke smell leaving the room with him. You turn to Eren, the two of you smiling at each other as you lift your hands to high five. Eren holds your hand in the air, shaking your hand excitedly. 
“You passed, kitty.” 
“Where are we right now? Do you smell that? How does it smell like smoke and laundry at the same time? And what the fuck kind of question was that? I thought I was going to vomit. ” 
“Weird guy. Nice rent rates, though.”
“And Levi. He’s my physics professor. I literally had a crush on him. And his boyfriend, he was my political science professor too. I even stayed over at their house once. This is about to be super weird.” 
“Why did you stay at their house?” 
“I didn’t have a place to stay! This was before you offered, when I was jumping houses.”
“Were they loud at night?” 
“Ew. Don’t put that thought in my head. I’m going to vomit.” 
“Save it for later.” 
“As if. I can hold my drink. Trust me.” 
 - 
You and Eren are seated directly across from Levi and Erwin at the dinner table, Kuchel and Kenny taking the heads of the tables at the ends. A large part of this feels like you and Eren are intruding on a very special moment, but you ignore that and dig into the food. 
Right. For some reason, Kenny picked Thanksgiving food for the menu. In the middle of September. Like full on turkey dinner, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce. 
“So, do you like Thanksgiving, Kenny?” 
“I hate fascism, Y/N. No, I do not like Thanksgiving.” 
You look over at Eren, trying your best to contain your laughter, as Kenny goes on, rambling about something you’re not quite sure about. Everything Eren said was slowly starting to fall into place - you really can’t turn down drinks from the guy. He’d already made you try three different drinks he made and you had only been here for an hour. And the pink lemonade was actually disgusting, Eren’s just a liar. 
Kuchel turns to the two of you, flashing you both a big smile.
“Say Eren. You never told us you got a pretty girlfriend.” 
You and Eren both choke on your food, clearing your throats. 
“Ah. I’m not Eren’s girlfriend. We just live together. Friends.” 
“Uh huh. Right. What a shame. You two are so sweet together. Sharing your sweet little smiles, playing footsie under the table.” 
You immediately drag your foot off of Eren’s under the table, embarrassed that she had caught that. Every time Levi rolled his eyes, Eren tapped your foot to get your attention, the two of you trying not to laugh. It’s not your fault that rolling his eyes is basically like blinking to Levi. 
“Ma. Leave them alone, yeah? They’re just kids, they don’t know what they feel.” 
“I have to agree with Lee’ here, Mrs. Ackerman. Surely, they just haven’t reached that stage yet.” 
“You call Levi Lee’, Erwin? That’s so sweet. Oh you two are just perfect and I-” 
The four of you five of you watch Kuchel burst into tears, taking turns pressing kisses to everyone's cheeks at the table. You and Eren included. When she sits down, Eren leans over, whispering in your ear. 
“She’s like Annie on hour five of being drunk.” 
“More like hour one.” 
You both laugh, silently eating your food as you watch them interact with each other again. Some parts of it feel like a reality tv show. Kenny’s is downright ridiculous - he’s been hurling out whatever comes to his mind. He told Eren that he seemed like the type to commit genocide in another life and then told Erwin that he would be a corrupt military man. 
Kuchel is sweet. Almost two sweet. She spent a large majority of the night crying, telling baby stories about Levi when he was a kid. You don’t miss the way Levi’s ears turn red when she confesses that Levi used to be scared of the toilet when he was younger. 
Best of all are Levi and Erwin. You don’t miss the glances between them - the silent communication they had going on at the table. It’s like the rest of you weren’t even here. That’s where you think Eren got the idea, the tapping on the feet. A signal that you were going to talk laugh about it later. 
Eight drinks in and Kenny is blasting music, doing a solo interpretive dance to Etta James. You and Levi are in one corner with Kuchel, Erwin, and Eren in the other. 
“I can’t believe this guy is your uncle. Did you ever do a DNA test?” 
“Hundreds.”
You turn your neck to find Levi, staring across Erwin on the other side of the room. You follow his gaze, watching Kuchel pinch Eren’s cheeks and Erwin laugh at the two of them. 
“What’s your deal?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“With Eren. You like him right?” 
You look down into your cup, the opaque liquid staring back at you. Erwin had made you a fruity drink, to which Kenny responded “everything about this guy is fruity!” 
“Yeah.” 
“He doesn’t like you back?” 
“No.” 
“I didn’t like Erwin at first. He was too much - pretentious, arrogant, irrational at times.” 
“But?” 
“But, he was my best friend. At some point, all the love and admiration I had for him just became something more. Like, yeah, he was my favorite person to be around but then I wanted to be around him all the time. Tell him the good things, the bad things. Share something with him, anything, everything. I…I didn’t hate myself when I was with him.” 
You smile, squeezing Levi’s shoulder in your hands. 
“That’s sweet, Levi. I’m happy for you.” 
He gives you a small smile, turning his neck back to look at them across the hall. 
“Be his friend. Maybe he’ll come around.” 
 - 
Six drinks in and Eren is feeling buzzed. He was trying his best to pace himself, make sure he was sane enough to take you home at the end of the night. He could tell by the glazed look in your eyes that you were getting there, close to being fully plastered. 
He turns his neck, scanning for you around the room. You kept disappearing. But there you were, directly across from him, leaning against the wall from Levi. He meets your eyes and you give him a soft smile, accompanied with a tiny wave. His heart’s pounding. 
“Do you like her, Eren? Oh please say that you do.” 
Kuchel is squeezing his shoulders, her eyes lighting up in excitement. 
“Yeah. Maybe a little bit.” 
“Oh, oh, oh. You have to tell her. Don’t let her get away now!” 
“Ah, I tried. She doesn’t like me.” 
He watches her face droop, Erwin shaking his head in the air. Both of their cheeks are flushed pink, the cups they were holding shaking in their hands. Surely the only people who were at least somewhat sober were you and Eren, which was saying a lot. 
“You know, Eren. I knew Levi was the one the moment I saw him.” 
“Really?” 
“I liked him so much, I wanted him around. In whatever sense that means. Even if he only wanted to be my friend.” 
“He didn’t want to be with you?”
“Oh no, he loathed me. Like full of hatred.” 
“And that didn’t…bother you?” 
“Maybe a little bit, but we became friends after that. And I just wanted him around. Whatever way he would have me. Even just being his friend, getting to see him everyday, that was enough for me.” 
Eren cranes his neck back over, where Kenny has his arms slung around you and Levi. He’s forcing the two of you to sign with him - Levi looking downright murderous while you flash Kenny a polite smile. 
“Just be her friend, Eren. Maybe she’ll come around like Levi did.” 
 - 
You can’t hold your drink. Obviously. But Eren knew that already. He had been watching you for a better part of the last hour, your inhibitions absent. Erwin had made you yet another fruit themed drink, which you were all too happy to down. The second he saw the glass hit your hand, he’d focused all of his best efforts in trying to sober up, calm the thrill running through his blood. 
You had made your way back over to him after some time, the two of you on the couch. You were leaning your head against his shoulder, your breaths heavy and uneven. At the sight of Kenny - who was now singing with Kuchel on the table - you suddenly perk up, your hands pressed against his shoulders as you lean over him. 
“Eren.” 
“Hm, peaches?” 
“I have a plan.” you whisper, your eyes somewhere between delirious and devious. 
“Uh huh. What’s that?” 
“You and I should sign the lease now. Then mail the letters. That way, we can leave and Kenny can’t get mad because we basically did him a favor. We’ll just tell Levi in case he asks.” you whisper, a smile spreading across your face. 
You’re drunk out of your mind. Not that Eren himself isn’t drunk either, he can certainly feel the buzz he was trying to will away living, but he’s not as gone as you. 
“Genius idea.” 
“I know right!” 
He was being sarcastic, but you had already jumped off the couch, to where Levi and Erwin were standing in the corner. He quickly follows, catching up to balance you as you stumble over to where the two of them were standing. 
“So. Levi. Right, hi Levi.” 
He’s mentally debating if he should stop you. You are very plastered and could potentially say something embarrassing. But there’s something so funny, so endearing about the determined little look on your face that he decides against it, letting you go on. 
“You’re a man.” 
He watches the confusion spread across Levi’s already strained face, his eyes flitting between you and Eren. 
“And you, Erwin, are a man too. You two are men.” 
“That’s correct, Y/N. You’re very perceptive.” 
Eren tries his best to conceal his laughter, as you go on, talking to the two of them. You’re definitely worse than Annie. 
“Marriage. It’s a thing, you know? And a man can do it. And a woman can too. And you are a man and he is a man and you can both do that. And we want to come to that. Like go to there.” 
How did you get from talking about the lease to marriage?
“Eren. What is she going on about?” 
“We’re going to sign the lease papers and mail them on our way out so we can leave. We have to be up early tomorrow and she literally cannot drink more. We were going to ask if you could let Kenny know tomorrow and tell him to be easy on us.” 
“You drive here?” 
“No. Train. We’ll be fine to get back, Levi. I got her.” 
He nods. Eren doesn’t miss the look Erwin and Levi give each other as the two of you lock hands, tip-toeing into Kenny’s office. Of course Erwin told him. 
The two of you quickly rush out, laughing as you run down the block before any of them notice. You slow down as you pass the corner, the two of you strolling the rest of the way down the block back to the train station. He can tell you’re winding down by the way you’re leaning against him, skipping steps. 
The train car is empty, this being the last train leaving the station. He settles the two of you into the seats at the front, getting in first. 
“Ren. Can I have the window?” 
He nods, wordlessly changing seats with you. This seat’s better anyways. You look out the window. And he can look at you. 
You lean over, your eyes drooping as you lean over. He’s not sure what it is, maybe Kenny’s rancid tequila is still running through his bloodstream, but he locks his hand with yours, pressing his fingers against the scar in between your knuckles. 
“I…miss you, Y/N. Being your friend.” 
He watches your expression drop, your eyes fluttering fully open. 
“You don’t think we’re friends?” 
“No! I mean, yes. I just didn’t realize you thought we were still friends. After everything that happened, the fight we had I just kind of- I don’t know.” 
You’re quiet for some time and he can see the gears moving in your head. Your eyes are now pinched shut, your forehead scrunched in concentration. Maybe this was the right time to say this. Hopefully, you don’t even remember tomorrow. 
“Are we in second grade, Ren? Do you really not think we’re friends?” 
Of course. The words he said to you, the day you were sick. 
“We are still friends. I just meant, it was different for the past few days. But today, this was…nice. I enjoyed it.” 
You smile in response, the two of you leaning your heads against the back of the seats, the only sound being the whirring of the train behind you. 
“Y/N. You wouldn’t really move out, would you?” 
“I was hoping you forgot about that. It’s my fault. I kind of…get in my head sometimes, I don’t know.”
“About?”  
“I thought you didn’t want me around. So I didn’t want to be around you. I thought you hated me or something.” 
“Y/N. Look at me.” 
His eyes are dark, the same way as when Levi mentioned you were looking for another roommate. 
“I could never hate you.” 
“I know, I just meant-” 
“No. You clearly don’t know.” 
You turn over to find an irritated look plastered on his face, his jaw clenched shut. You press your fingers against his shoulder, squeezing twice to get his attention. He flutters his eyes open, leaning down to look at you. 
“You’re special to me. I don’t understand what I did that made you think I would ever make fun of you or hate you. You...piss me off when you say stuff like-” 
He’s cut off by you placing your hand on his cheek, your eyes peering into his. 
“Sorry, Ren.’ 
“S’okay. I know why you do it. But just remember, I’m not your stupid old roommates or your lame ex-boyfriend or anyone who ever made you feel that way. You and I are-” 
“Friends.” 
Not what he quite had in mind, but he’ll take it.
“Yeah. You can tell me anything.” 
“Okay. You too.” 
He sees you smile, your eyes wafting shut against his shoulders. He can feel the pit in his stomach burning, the exact same way it did every time you did something. When you smiled at him, fixed his hair, got him coffee. God, he still loves you. 
“So Ren. Do you want to hang out after recess?” 
“Shut up. You’re so corny, kitty.” 
“Ew.” 
The next morning, Eren makes you breakfast and you sing in the shower. Progress. 
next part linked here
taglist: @maliakealoha @smolone88 @mykyoon @squirrelspoetry @roronoazorosbxtchh @fell-4-u @erensleftnutt @thelazylemur @mg63k @filunara @mblrrr @spidersinmybutthole @lezsie @erensmoodygf @maesthebestmonth @nanamiswife22 @lalalucidity @lapin0u @cullenswife @leafguitar @saiyasworld @rebeccawinters @mrs-sullys-blog @red-moon-dream @icansmellsouls @luvinclouds @katestrophes @amourely @6sakusa @miralbdo @k0z3me @celiniverse @txminie-blog @erenspersonalwh0re @s0f14sbs @violetmatcha @sweetenertea @wheredidmycrowngo @serendippindots @intimacywithceline @alonemoth @l0v31yw0r1d @meowmeowmau @miasthoughtsdotcom 
reply under this post or any of the one’s linked above to be added to the tag list! <3 
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doufudanshi · 1 year
Text
for anyone who criticizes jyl for bringing soup to yiling instead of like, money—
we should first ask: could jyl actually have given wwx money? she must have something, you say. the jins are rich! she could even give him some of her betrothal gifts.
but realistically jyl probably didn't have much money at all! let's think this through. not only did she not marry jzx yet at the time of her yiling visit, but (based on many, many imperial palace tv shows lol) all her worth would be in betrothal gifts of jewelry, fine clothing, or other misc items, which is 1) heavy and difficult to transport without notice, but that doesn't actually matter bc it's ultimately 2) disrespectful to sell and worse to have the gifter find out when they come by for tea and you begin chatting about the event in two days and they say oh where's that one-of-a-kind jade bracelet I gave you wouldn't it match the also one-of-a-kind silk garment that lady jin gave you sooo well oh you will look so lovely in it won't you wear it.
or worse, have it recognized in some random pawn shop on the street by someone who has never really liked you and WILL get you in deep shit for it.
does jyl have any money from the jiang side? well, jc has been busy at work rebuilding lotus pier and the clan since before wwx's defection, and even if he's not borrowing a shitton of money from the jins (which he almost certainly is), he definitely has the opposite of surplus funds. he's also busy organizing and buying gifts for the wedding too, making him go more in the red because you know the jins aren't going to want cheap-ass things even if you don't have money.
let's say jyl did get a significant bride price (aka given money money)—not only does that go to her family (jc), but it is given during the ceremony (which, again, hasn't happened yet). and, realistically, jc probably will have to use it to offset the costs of the above.
beyond that, let's just take this scene from a storytelling perspective. sometimes it is simply about the emotional resonance. the vibes. let's say jyl did have some funds to give wwx. but imagine if jyl was like here a-xian take all this money 😐 ok sure useful for some period. but is that the gift that wwx would want during the first time he's gotten to see her in months, and likely the last time he will see her in a long, long time (possibly years)? would that be impactful for the story?
meanwhile, the soup she brings represents her love. we hear in the extra, from wwx's own words, the care she put into selecting the ingredients, making sure the lotus root is fresh and perfectly ripe. it also takes hours for her to even make iirc. wwx derives so much comfort from it—that's why it comes up again and again. it is one of his first memories of feeling safe in lotus pier, of home. it provides wwx some semblance of normalcy. he hasn't had any this entire time, and is likely something he aches for whenever he's homesick or sad or questioning his choices. it is simply, given the circumstances, incredibly thoughtful. (and how meaningful was it to see wn treat it with such respect? seeing that is literally the moment in the chapter when wwx realizes—ah. the wens are people I cherish as well.)
and regarding jyl coming in her wedding dress—it is not for herself. it is for wwx. we saw how devastated wwx was just to even hear that jyl was getting married because he had to hear it from someone who wasn't jc or jyl. and to immediately then realize he cannot go? even more heartbreaking. and jyl, who clearly knows wwx extremely well, would know, without having to ask, how upset wwx would be to miss such a huge occasion in their lives that was previously a given. this is what she can do to offset that, even just a little. because jyl came in her dress, wwx gets to experience a piece of her wedding even though he cannot physically be there. not to be a 2000s mastercard ad, but there really are some things that money can't buy.
idk there's also some fist-shaking at the class discrepancy in the scene. and I get it. it sucks! her dress is certainly lavish, and the wens are farming on a corpse mountain and have only just started making a bit of money. yes, it's fine to think that if you were in the character's shoes, maybe you would've found it to be in poor taste—but the story isn't about you. it is about these characters, and what this scene means to them. and I'm of the camp that if there is no indication that wwx is upset by any of this, and in fact moved by it, there really isn't reason for the reader to be righteously indignant about these things on a character's behalf. that's just not the focus or the point of the scene.
plus, jyl is sharp. she is likely more aware of the discrepancy than most people think. she has also been shown in the text to not just be another sheltered, spoiled noble (re jzx soup incident). but if what you want is guilt from jyl—I personally think that guilt is performative, and accomplishes nothing. her guilt would've only made wwx unhappy. instead, here is an action that is meaningful and brings joy to wwx. to share her joy with him is not selfishness, nor is it some lack of awareness of their situation. if in this moment, she shows off her dress, if she revels in her joy, her happiness, it is for wwx, and wwx is incredibly moved by it.
and let's face it—wwx, of all people, would want to see jyl in a wedding dress that cost more than rebuilding lotus pier from the ground up. he wouldn't want anything less.
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bella-rose29 · 5 months
Text
You Shall Go to the Ball!
Anthony Lockwood x f!Karim!reader
Requested by anon: Hey, I don't know if you accept requests, but I have one. Reader(she is George's sister) accompanies Lockwood&co to the ball at Fittes and she is jealous when she sees Lockwood talking to the girl (maybe reader enemy or something)most of the time. She decides to interrupt the conversation and introduces herself as his wife, while showing the ring Lucy gave her, explaining what to do. A long chapter please😊
I am so sorry that this took so long anon 😭 (I'm also not sure about the title tbh but oh well)
a long chapter this will be! I made the reader George's adopted sister (I hope that's ok!). I also made this super long because I got so carried away and if it deviates from what you wanted then I'm so sorry my lovely
I made it just... a generic ball? I don't know if you had one specifically in mind but I thought it would fit better to have an occasion where they aren't fighting for their lives lol
sorry if your name is Maya bc that is the name of Lucy's crush in this and also sorry if your name is Steph bc she's the enemy of the reader (I had to put names in I'm sorry 🥲)
Word count: 9.8k (I'm doing my bit you guys)
Warnings: swearing, a sexual innuendo or two, bullying (mostly focused on the fact the reader is adopted), lockwood and reader love each other but they haven't done anything about it, tumblr lagged while I wrote most of this so there are probably mistakes, lockwood has some mildly self-deprecating thoughts, mentions of lockwood's suicidal tendencies, there's probably more but idk what
Tag list: @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @wandamaximoffbae, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife
As always, let me know here if you would like to be added to/removed from the tag list for my lockwood and co works (or drop me a message!) <3
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Y/n was not happy.
She ought to have been, given the occasion, but she was very much unhappy instead.
Lucy was trying not to laugh too loudly, but was failing at her attempts to stifle just how funny she found the whole situation. "You know," she said between breathy laughs, "all of this would be a whole lot easier if you just told him how you feel."
"Nope. Not happening. Every time I try I freeze up and blabber some unintelligible words that make no sense, and I look like an idiot. So no."
The 'him' in question was Anthony Lockwood, the head of Lockwood and Co and resident of 35 Portland Row. Lucy Carlyle, George Karim and Holly Munro lived here too, and as George's sister Y/n had been invited to Lucy's 18th birthday party. It was a small party, only the five of them (six if you included the Skull, but only Lucy could hear it so Y/n didn't), but the atmosphere was lively and music was playing over the speakers George had set up. Banners and balloons stating 'Happy Birthday!' were strewn all over the living room (Y/n could already see Holly's eye twitching at the amount of confetti on the floor), and the boys were busy refilling glasses (another reason not to count the Skull - it had nothing to hold a drink with).
"You have to do it at some point though," she whispered into Y/n's ear. "But right now, you need to move." Lucy pointed in the direction Y/n was supposed to go, and she tilted her head back as she groaned.
"Remind me why you ever made me play this game?"
"Because it's my birthday, and you love me. Go on, unless you wanna forfeit."
"You're evil," Y/n hissed as she pushed herself off of the floor and made her way over to Lockwood. "I'm sorry, again."
"I'm not sure what for, to be honest. You're just playing the game." He smiled up at her from his place by the fire, and Y/n tried to ignore George's glare. "George, please stop looking at me like that. Lucy was the one who dared Y/n to sit on me." Y/n felt her face warm at his words, knowing that this night could only end in disaster for her, and decided to bite the bullet. Huffing, she turned and sat down, her back facing Lockwood as her legs went either side of his, and she let out a small yelp of surprise when his arms snaked around her waist and pulled her against him. Lucy only laughed, loud and obnoxious, and Y/n couldn't find it in her to shoot a look, still too taken aback by the feel of being hugged by Lockwood in this way. "You alright?" he asked, voice quiet and gentle in her ear, and she felt his breath on the side of her face.
"Y-yeah. I'm alright. How are you?" She cringed at herself, but his light chuckle reverberated through her and calmed her immediately.
"I'm alright. Quite comfy, actually. You're very warm." As if to back up his point he snuggled in to her shoulder, nose rubbing against the side of her neck, and Y/n almost choked. Instead she made a sort of strangled noise, and he stopped and looked up at her as though he was about to say something. Lockwood opened his mouth, but was cut off by George.
"Okay, she's sat on him, can she go back now? I don't wanna look at this anymore."
"George, Lucy dared her to do it for the rest of the game," Holly piped up, clearly enjoying this as much as Lucy. She also knew about Y/n's feelings for Lockwood, the three of them having had multiple nights where they talked for hours about the other two members of Lockwood and Co, and hadn't wasted any time at all in joining Lucy in her teasing about Y/n's crush. "Rules are rules, I'm afraid."
"Yeah, and it's my birthday, so don't even start to think about asking to stop the game. Besides, they look quite comfortable now, wouldn't wanna make 'em move again, would we?"
"I'm very comfortable, thanks Luce," Lockwood said, his hold tightening on Y/n.
"Y-yep. Perfectly good." Lucy and Holly shared a look, stifling their laughter. George sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, huffing at the scene in front of him. Y/n's brother also knew about her feelings for his boss, and he while he wasn't exactly mad about it, he also wasn't thrilled. She knew that he meant well, and was only looking out for her (especially since Lockwood tended to throw himself directly into danger most of the time), but a little support would be appreciated.
The rest of the game went without much incident, although George did have to stick his hand in the toilet (a dare from Holly that nobody expected, although since her arrival in the house the toilets were spotless so it wasn't much of a trial), and by the time Y/n realised that she should be getting home it was well past midnight.
"Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Okay, um- Lockwood! Hi!" He had just entered the living room where Y/n was stood clearing up (the others had gone up to their respective bedrooms), and she apprehended him in the doorway. "Can you help me call a taxi? I need to go home now and it's really late and-"
"Woah, slow down!" He placed his hands on her shoulders, a smile on his face. "Why don't you just stay over, yeah? It's what, two in the morning? You might as well sleep here and leave after breakfast. Your parents probably expected you to stay here anyway, right?" She nodded. It was a common occurrence for her to stay the night at Portland Row when visiting, since she didn't see them all that much. "So it's not a problem, really. You can take my bed if you like, save waking the others up."
"Lockwood, you really don't have to do that," Y/n started, but he cut her off.
"Nonsense. Holly's stayed too, so I'd feel bad if I turfed you out at this time of night."
"No, I mean giving me your bed. You don't have to do that." He shrugged, then moved to grab a blanket from one of the cupboards.
"I'll be alright, I'll sleep on the sofa. Seriously, Y/n/n, it's fine." He flashed her one of his smiles, and instantly she melted and gave in.
"Ugh, fine. But don't complain tomorrow morning when your back hurts," she wagged a finger at him, exhaustion winning out over guilt about taking his bed as she moved towards the door.
"Alright," he laughed, and Y/n didn't think she'd heard a better sound.
She traipsed upstairs and got ready for bed, and when she fell asleep moments after settling in she dreamed of the brown haired boy downstairs.
~~~
Y/n was sat at home in her room a day or so later when George burst in, arms filled with papers and glasses skewed on his nose.
"I've been thinking," he started, dumping the papers on the end of her bed and flopping next to her.
"Hi, Georgie, I'm doing great, thanks. What am I doing? Oh, not much, just sat here reading a book and listening to music." She sent him a pointed look to which he huffed and lightly slapped her arm.
"Shut up. Hi, how are you? Great, nice, okay. Can you listen to me now?"
"What?"
"So I've been thinking about you and Lockwood, and I've decided I don't mind too much. I mean, it's irritating, really, but technically I don't need to do a boyfriend check because I live with him so I know all his nasty habits and that, and I know that he's loyal to a fault, which is something I should probably raise with him, actually," George paused, frowning as he lost his train of thought.
"Um- okay... Where has this come from? I thought you wanted me to stop liking him?"
"Yeah, but then I had to listen to him pining after you for the last two hours at the Archives and I realised that maybe it would be better if you just got together already." Y/n stared at him in shock, processing the information her brother had just spewed.
"Wait, wait. Lockwood likes me? Are you sure?"
"Completely. This isn't some hypothesis or theory, it's fact. My sanity can prove it because it's nearly all gone."
"Okay, but... you're sure? Like this isn't a joke, right?"
"No! It's not a joke! God, you really are perfect for each other; he said the same thing you know. Didn't believe that I was telling the truth about you reciprocating his feelings. Seriously, you're both idiots for not seeing it, I mean, he let you sit on him a couple of days ago!"
"That was part of a game!" Y/n spluttered, face heating at the memory of his hands around her and his head in the crook of her neck.
"Well he wouldn't have cosied up to me, would he!" Y/n fell backwards against the headboard, hands pressed to her face as she groaned in frustration."You're still not gonna do anything about it, are you?" George was quieter now, and Y/n moved her hands slightly to peer at him through her fingers.
"Correct. I want cold hard proof before I make a proper fool of myself and have to never go to Portland Row again for fear of dying from embarrassment." Now it was George's turn to groan in frustration.
"Well somebody's just going to have to engineer a situation where you confess then, aren't they?!"
"Please, no. I will murder you while you sleep if you try anything." George was impassive when Y/n glared at him, used to her threats of death.
"Fine! I won't do anything, alright! Happy?"
"Sort of." They sat in comfortable silence for a little while, Y/n trying to read her book again but eventually getting too distracted by the mountain of paperwork that her brother hadn't touched since arriving. "What is all that, anyway?" she pointed to the end of the bed.
"Oh, my research for a case we have in a couple of days. I couldn't sit with Lockwood anymore, he was driving me insane."
Y/n rolled her eyes at her brother's dramatics. "Do you want help looking through it all?"
"Please. I have no doubts that Lockwood will be doing anything but research right now, and there's a lot to get through. At least I know that you'll stay focused."
"Come on then. Oh, are you staying for dinner? Mum's cooking tonight so you know it'll be good."
"I might do. I get caught up in this stuff anyway so we'll see what time it is. Thanks for the help, Y/n/n."
"No problem, Georgie." She ruffled his hair, laughing when he practically threw himself off of the bed to escape. He landed on the floor with a thud, only making Y/n laugh harder.
"I hate you," he said, sitting up and glaring at her through wonky glasses. "You're the devil, I swear."
~~~
Lockwood and George were cleaning the equipment after yet another successful case when George dropped the chains he was oiling and looked up at his boss.
"I don't get it," he started, making Lockwood glance up with a frown.
"Get what?"
"You barely know Y/n, and you only ever interact when she's here with us, so how are you so hopeless when it comes to my sister?"
Lockwood blushed as he remembered all the times he'd lied to his friends, telling them that he was going on a supply run or heading to the shops when in reality he was making his way to the cafe that Y/n worked at. He spent a good hour or so in there multiple times a week, and sometimes he'd offer to walk her home at the end of her shift, desperate for another few minutes in her presence. Since first meeting her not long after George joined his agency (she'd brought cake, homemade, saying that she wanted to give George a 'congrats on the new job!' present) Lockwood had wanted to be around her all the time; she was like the sun, and everything was gloomy without her. The first time he'd showed up at her place of work, he'd pretended it was a coincidence, acting surprised when he saw her behind the counter. Truthfully, he'd taken a gamble on whether or not she'd be working that day, but the blinding smile that was present on her face as she served customers (although Lockwood could tell it was a fake one) immediately told him that his gamble had paid off.
"Lockwood? Hi! How are you? How's Georgie doing, is he alright? Oh, did you want anything?"
"Just a tea, thanks love," he'd replied, not meaning for the term of endearment to slip out, but her resultant blush was enough to make him decide on repeating it. She started making a cup (he'd asked for it to take away), asking questions every now and then to get his order right, and he answered those as well as her previous questions about George. Eventually, he'd had to leave, paying for the tea he now held and exiting the shop with a promise to come back soon when she'd waved goodbye. It had become a sort of ritual for the two of them, Lockwood appearing a couple of times a week, sometimes to sit at a table with some case files, others he would just get his order to go, but he'd find a way to talk to her every time. On the days when he'd promised to walk her home she would have a cup of tea already prepared for him, sat on his usual table in the corner next to a plate of whatever pastry or cake she thought that he would enjoy. At some point over the years, Lockwood had started feeling his cheeks heat up whenever Y/n smiled at him, or butterflies start up in his stomach when their hands brushed, and eventually he'd had to accept the fact that he was falling in love with her.
"Lockwood? Lockwood! Back to the present, please!" George demanded, snapping his fingers in front of his friend's face. He was sure it had only been a few seconds, but George was annoyed all the same at Lockwood's daydreaming. He huffed in frustration, picking up the chains again."You two are insufferable, do you know that? Seriously, just ask her out already. She feels the same and you know it."
"I thought you didn't want me dating your sister?" Lockwood frowned, feeling hope start to bloom in his chest.
"Yeah, well, then I had to sit and listen to you talk about her for two hours the other day and I lost my mind."
"Oh. Well. I wasn't that annoying, was I?" George only stared at him, expression saying 'Are you serious?' and Lockwood had his answer.
"Just, I don't know. You both like each other, so why not? It'll save me from the pining at least."
Lockwood was quiet for a while, mulling over George's words. "I just know that she can do better than me," he eventually said, not looking up from the boots he was polishing. "I don't want her to... regret being with me, or something."
"Lockwood, having spent the last four years listening to her talk about you I can say with confidence that she won't regret being with you. All I ask is that you dial down the suicidal tendencies on cases, yeah? I really don't want to deal with her heartbroken." George's voice was the softest Lockwood had ever heard it, and Lockwood nodded his assent.
"Alright. I'm not making any promises though Sometimes my suicidal tendencies help us stop dying instead."
"I'm not doing much better than that, am I?"
"Nope. I will be slightly less chaotic on cases and that's as much as I can do for you."
"Fine. Keep polishing those boots, you've missed a spot."
~~~
It was a few weeks later when Lucy called Y/n up in a panic, yelling random words down the phone and ranting about something that sounded important.
"Lucy, Lucy! Stop talking for a moment!" The other girl did so, promptly falling silent, and Y/n took a breath. "What's happened?"
"There's this party- ball- thing that Fittes are throwing in like, two weeks, and we have to go because we've been invited but I have nothing to wear. At all. And you always know what to do in these situations so I figured you could help me?"
She was quiet for a moment, and then said "But it's... in two weeks?"
"Yeah."
"So why are you worrying about it right now?"
"Because loads of people have been invited, Y/n! What if the perfect outfit sells out? What if I end up in something I hate because there was nothing else?"
"Wait, wait wait." Y/n sat forward on her bed, pulling the phone off of the nightstand when the cord no longer reached. "Are you trying to impress somebody?" Now it was Lucy's turn to be quiet, and Y/n scoffed in disbelief. "Oh my god, Lucy Carlyle, do you have a crush?!"
"No, I don't! Shut up! Ugh! You are so annoying, for fuck's sake!"
"You totally do! You so have a crush! Who is it? Tell me!"
"I am telling you nothing, you nosey little bastard!"
"Okay, okay! Fine! I will get this information out of you, I hope you know. When do you wanna go shopping then?"
"Today?"
"Jesus, thanks for the notice!"
"A different day then! But we are not leaving it to the last minute like you always do!"
"No, no, it's fine, Luce. Mum's gone full clean mode anyway so it gives me an excuse to get out the house. Make my siblings do the work."
"Aren't you worried about your own room coming under fire?"
"Nope. We did mine yesterday, so I know I'm safe. I'll meet you at yours in twenty minutes?"
"Yeah, alright." They hung up and Y/n rushed downstairs, grabbing her bag and coat and pulling her shoes on, and within a few minutes she was yelling to her parents that she'd be back later and laughing at her siblings when they complained about her leaving them to their mother's cleaning fury.
~~~
"So," Y/n started, her tone supposedly disinterested as she, Lucy and Holly browsed the department store racks for something for the two agents to wear. "Who is it? The person you're dressing up for?"
"Oi, quit it." Lucy sent a glare her way, but it was too late. Holly had overheard and was joining in, and for once Y/n was glad that it wasn't her being questioned about a crush.
"Are we talking about Maya?"
"No," Lucy shot back, far too quickly for it to be the truth, and her rapidly reddening cheeks weren't helping either.
"Is that her name? Oh my god, okay! Wait, what do you know about her, Holly?"
"She hasn't told you anything? Okay, okay, so she's called Maya, works at Fittes which isn't brilliant, but she's sweet enough. Lucy totally wrecked her first impression though, which was hilarious."
"It was not! I looked like an idiot!" Lucy now had her face in her hands, and Holly had moved to link arms with Y/n. It turned out that Lucy had quite literally fallen for this girl after tripping on a kerb when staring at her, and Holly had laughed so hard she had to dash to a nearby toilet.
"Yeah, no, that is hilarious, Luce," Y/n cackled, gaining some glares from other shoppers.
"You can't talk, little miss 'I sat on Lockwood's lap and fucking yelped'!" Y/n opened her mouth in protest, looking to Holly for support, but the girl only shook her head and sided with Lucy again.
"I didn't think anybody heard that," she mumbled, mortified that apparently they had heard, and worse, hadn't forgotten.
"Oh we all heard, trust me."
"Ugh, I thought I was free because Lucy has a crush now!"
"Nope. Neither of you are off the hook," Holly declared as she laughed, and Y/n and Lucy shared a look. "Why did you yelp, anyway?"
"I was surprised, okay?"
"Did he have a flare in his pocket?" Lucy snickered with an exaggerated wink, and Y/n whacked her arm.
"No, he did not! You are ridiculous! He just... pulled me backwards into a hug, and it surprised me," she explained, voice higher than usual.
"Right... okay," Holly said, playfully narrowing her eyes. "Whatever you say!"
"I'm telling the truth!" Y/n called after them as they moved on, and she rushed to catch up.
~~~
"Oh, this store is so much better than that last one, look at the range!"
"Holly, have you ever considered working in retail if you stop being an agent?"
"God no, have you heard the horror stories? No thank you."
They were wandering around the third department store of the day when Lucy gasped loudly and practically ran to a rack of clothes.
"This one. This is the one. Oh, look at it! No, no way! It has pockets?! I am in love, and I can die happy!"
"Lucy, what are you actually talking about? Because we can't see it from here," Y/n said, and Lucy turned around with a wide smile on her face as she held up the dress. It was similar to the one she'd worn a while ago, back before Holly had joined and Lockwood and Co were into theft (they needed a book from the Black Library), but Lucy had wanted a new one given the other was slightly worse for wear.
"Oh, Lucy, it's gorgeous," Holly complimented, and Y/n agreed.
"Yeah, seriously Luce. Go and try it on!"
They ushered her into the changing rooms, and while they were waiting Holly and Y/n had a seat on the chairs nearby.
"What are you going to wear?" Holly asked, and Y/n frowned in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
"To the ball? What are you going to wear? You are coming with us, aren't you?"
"Uh, I guess I can. I hadn't thought about it, to be honest. I don't think I have anything suitable to wear though."
"Well we've still got time, we can look around for something! Maybe something that will help you confess?" Holly nudged, and Y/n was just about to stop spluttering in protest and defend herself when Lucy walked out.
"Holy shit, Lucy."
"Yeah, holy shit."
"'Holy shit' in a good way or 'holy shit' in a bad way?" she asked, chewing on her lip and smoothing out the fabric.
"Good way," Y/n and Holly replied instantly.
"You look amazing, Luce, honestly," Y/n smiled, and Lucy returned it.
"Definitely that one," Holly agreed.
~~~
Holly had insisted that they keep looking around the store for something for Y/n (Lucy had agreed with Holly that Y/n 'shall go to the ball!' - she'd even declared it like the fairy godmother), and so they spent the next few hours carrying out the same painful process that they had just done with Lucy.
"Y/n? Is that you? It is!"
Y/n froze at the voice, squeezing her eyes shut in the hopes that if she just kept walking then she would be left alone.
"Y/n!"
No chance of that, then, given she'd been taken by the arm and wrapped in a hug that was entirely too fake and smelt incredibly strongly of perfume.
"Steph, hi," Y/n hoped she didn't sound too displeased to see the girl, but then again they'd never been friends, and Steph had always been a bitch to her.
"What are you doing here? I didn't think shopping was your..." she waved her hands at Y/n, "thing." She glanced up and down Y/n's body, raising her eyebrows slightly and smiling too widely.
"Not really, but I prefer it when I'm with my friends and they wanted to go out," she said, trying to figure out an escape route.
"Oh, so you're not getting anything?" Before Y/n could respond, Steph had already started talking again. "Of course you aren't, you couldn't afford it, what with your family having so many people in it."
"Who the hell do you think you are?"
"Lucy, please don't," Y/n hissed, trying to deter her friend from beating the shit out of her enemy.
"You have no right to talk to her like that, okay? And for your information, she is getting something, and it's going to be a dress that makes her look like the goddess she is, alright? So take your fake brands and irrelevant opinions and shove 'em up your arse!" Lucy ranted, shoving her finger in Steph's direction to emphasise her points. The girl was taken aback for a moment, blinking in shock, then scoffed.
"Whatever. Enjoy your lame dress, Karim. Or whatever your last name is, since we all know that you're adopted." Steph left, her two companions following with a click of their stupidly high heels, and Y/n felt tears start to prick at the corners of her eyes. Lucy was practically growling after them, and Holly had brought Y/n into a proper hug, tight and comforting.
"Well she's a bitch. How d'you know her?"
"School," Y/n sniffed, trying to prevent the tears from falling. "She never liked me for some reason, or maybe I was just easy to pick on because I don't know who my real parents are, but she always made it a point to single me out."
"Right, if she ever comes back I'm punching her."
"Lucy," Y/n berated, although she was laughing a little as she did so.
"I mean it! She's awful! Now, have we looked everywhere in this store?"
"I think so, let's try the next one," Holly said.
"Guys, it's not a big deal, really. Don't let me take up more of your time."
"Y/n, stop being ridiculous. We are finding you a dress and that's that."
"Lucy," Y/n whined as the girl grabbed hold of her arm, Holly taking the other, and led her off out of the store.
~~~
"This one?"
"Hm? No, I don't think so."
"What about this one?"
"God no, I'd look like shit."
"How about-"
"Ew, nope."
Many of their discussions had continued in this manner since leaving the store where Steph had appeared, and Y/n was still trying to find a dress that she loved. There had been many that had looked great, but when she'd tried them on there was something just not quite right, and she'd taken it off with a sigh. Curfew was starting to creep up on the three of them, and Y/n was worried that she'd never find an outfit and have to either go in a potato sack or just not go at all.
"You'll find something, Y/n," Holly said, nudging her shoulder against Y/n's.
"It's not looking very likely though, is it?" Holly didn't say anything, offering a sympathetic smile instead.
"Oh. My. God. Y/n/n, what about this one?" Lucy shouted from across the store (the last one that they hadn't previously looked around). Y/n and Holly giggled at their friend's antics, walking over to see what she wanted them to see. She was holding up a deep red dress, gaping at it with her eyes wide and mouth hanging open like she was a fish. "Ok. No thinking, no questioning, find the dressing room and put this on." Lucy bundled the dress into Y/n's arms and then shoved her in the direction of the changing rooms.
"You sure about this one, Lucy?"
"I'm positive, Holly."
~~~
The two agents were waiting outside for Y/n to appear when George turned up.
"What are you two doing here? Lucy, haven't you already got a dress?"
"Oh, hi George. Yeah, I got one earlier since my other nice dress is kind of old now, but Y/n's trying one on. Why are you here?"
"Apparently my other suit isn't nice enough, so I had to get a new one. Lucky that we've been getting some high paying customers recently that I could afford it."
"When you say your 'other suit', do you mean the one that has plasm stains and holes in it from moths?"
"...Yes."
"She's been in there a while, do you think she needs help?" Holly said after a lull in Lucy and George's conversation.
"I'm fine! Gimme two seconds!" Y/n shouted, and Lucy snickered.
"Wait, why's she trying on a dress?" George frowned, finally registering the fact that his sister was in the changing room.
"Because she's coming with us to the Fittes Ball in a couple of weeks and this girl was being a bitch-"
"Stephanie?"
"Uh- yeah. How'd you know?"
"Y/n complains about her a lot. I think they're arch enemies or something."
"Oh."
"What's she got to do with finding a dress though? Attending the ball makes sense, but where does Steph come into this?"
"Lucy might have shouted that Y/n was going to get a dress that made her look like a goddess," Holly chimed in.
"Ah, I see. So now my sister is... what, trying one on?"
"Yep. You sure you're okay?" Lucy shouted the last part in the direction of a stall, just as Y/n swept back the curtain and stepped out.
"Woah," Lucy and Holly said. George was silent, staring at his sister.
"Good woah or bad woah?" Y/n asked, smiling a little as she remembered Lucy asking a similar thing earlier that day.
"Good woah, for sure," Holly said, Lucy nodding next to her.
"Oh, Georgie. I didn't know you were here," Y/n looked more nervous now, clearly wanting her brother to say something positive.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
"Yeah. I do. I really do."
"You look beautiful, Y/n/n."
"Thank you, Georgie."
"Definitely look like a goddess," Lucy added.
~~~
"Lockwood, hi!" Y/n hadn't expected to see him today, but he had just entered the small cafe that she worked in.
"Hi, Y/n/n, how're you?" He looked antsy, like he wanted to know something, and was shifting on his feet.
"I'm alright... you okay? You look like you have a rash," she said, starting to make him a tea the way she knew he liked it.
"Uh- what? No, I don't... I don't have a rash, I just, well, I heard that you're coming to the ball with us next week?"
"Oh, yeah. The girls convinced me to go. We went dress shopping for Lucy last week and Holly told me I should go with you all. You don't mind, do you?"
"No! No, of course I don't mind!"
"Good, 'cause I already got a dress when Lucy got hers, and it was expensive and I need a justification for getting it or Mum'll be mad." She poured the hot water in, careful not to spill any over her hands (it had happened more times today than she'd like to admit), turning and finishing the tea off, placing a lid on the top of the take away cup. She pushed it across the counter, shaking her head when Lockwood pulled out his wallet to pay. "On the house, you look like you need it." He smiled at her, making her heart flutter, and pushed a fiver into the tip jar next to her as he ignored her protests.
"Thank you. Are you going to get changed with the rest of us? Or do you want us to pick you up from yours?"
"Oh, I was gonna get changed with Holly and Lucy. I'll probably come over quite early if that's alright with you?"
"Of course, you know I don't mind having you over, love. Thanks for the tea!" he called out as he left, unaware of Y/n's blush.
~~~
"Why do girls take so long getting ready for things?"
Lockwood looked up at George's words as he entered the kitchen, folding his paper and throwing it on the table. "Not sure. I'm relatively sure they plan world domination while they do it."
"Makes sense," George shrugged, flopping into a chair and pulling at his bow tie. "They have been in Lucy's room for hours now though. Do you think we need to be worried?"
"I hear them laughing every now and then, so they're still alive at least," Lockwood replied. George hummed, pushing his glasses back up his nose. All of a sudden the two boys heard footsteps thundering on the stairs, and a moment later Lucy's head poked through the kitchen door.
"Please make your way into the hall!" she half shouted, not caring that she was only a few metres away from them and disappearing again. Lockwood and George shared a look, then slowly pushed themselves out of their chairs and moved into the hallway to stand in front of the stairs. A few minutes passed, with hushed conversation barely audible from the top of the stairs, and eventually Holly said "Oh, I'll go!" and came downstairs. She looked lovely in her dress, gold fabric shimmering as she took the steps and ended up at the bottom, Lucy following closely behind in her deep blue (a staple colour for the girl), also looking gorgeous. Lockwood frowned slightly when he realised that Y/n wasn't with them, and when her head poked over the bannister with a worried expression he started feeling nervous.
"Guys, are you sure?" she asked, biting her lip. Lucy and Holly nodded, and George gave her a thumbs up.
"Wait," Lockwood started. "Has everybody seen her dress but me?"
"Yep," George said, the girls nodding behind him.
"So why are you so nervous, Y/n/n?" he called up, frowning.
"I don't know!"
"Just come downstairs!" A loud honk sounded from outside then, and the four agents turned to look in the direction of the sound.
"That'll be the cab," Lucy piped up, heading over to the door. "We'll wait for you two," she winked, and Lockwood felt his face heat up. How did she know about his feelings for Y/n?
"Please don't break her heart, Lockwood. Or I'll deliberately throw badly the next time we're on a case."
"George, no offence, but you can't aim anyway. Maybe if you deliberately aimed badly you'd throw it the right way."
"I mean it. Remember what we talked about the other week, and don't screw it up, yeah?" George patted Lockwood's shoulder, grabbing his jacket and heading outside after the girls.
"Lockwood?"
"Yeah?"
"They've all left, haven't they?"
"Yeah." Y/n didn't answer, instead letting out a groan that made Lockwood chuckle.
"Just come downstairs, Y/n/n. We're going to be late."
"Promise you'll be nice?"
"Why would I not be nice?"
"I don't know! Just promise?"
"Okay! I promise!" He was trying to stifle his laughter in the hopes that she wouldn't take it the wrong way when Y/n appeared at the top of the landing and took his breath away. She was stunning, the dress fitting perfectly and making her look ethereal.
"Lockwood? I look terrible, don't I? I'll stay here, you guys go without me-"
"No! No, don't... you look... you look- pretty," he settled on, wincing at his awkwardness. "You look really pretty, Y/n." He didn't miss the way her smile grew, or the way his face warmed, and when she muttered a small 'Thanks' under her breath his heart stuttered. "We should, uh," he cleared his throat. "We should probably... go..." he trailed off, still blushing. She had come closer and now he could smell her perfume, and when she brushed past him to open the door he thought he might faint from the brief physical contact. What was wrong with him? He was Anthony bloody Lockwood, so why was he acting so foolishly around this girl?
"Are you coming, then? Or are you gonna keep standing there like a lemon?"
"Uh, yeah, I'm- yep."
They packed themselves into the taxi, Lockwood stubbornly ignoring Lucy's smirk as the last two available seats for him and Y/n were right next to each other (which he was entirely certain had been planned), thighs pressed together, and a few moments later they were on the road, heading for the Fittes building.
~~~
"Holy shit, this is insane, Lucy," Y/n gasped, staring around the room in wonder. "Lucy?" She looked for her friend, wondering why she hadn't said anything in response, when she saw Lucy talking to a girl.
"That's Maya," Holly whispered, taking Y/n's arm and looping it through her own.
"God, she's gorgeous. I can see why Lucy likes her." Holly hummed her agreement, taking the two of them on a lap of the room.
"Did something happen between you and Lockwood before you got in the taxi?" she asked after a pause.
"What? No, why?" Y/n's eyes were wide, heat creeping up her neck at the memory of him calling her pretty.
"He can't stop staring at you. He looks like an idiot, to be completely honest." Now her eyes were wide for a different reason, turning to find Lockwood's body in the crowd. Sure enough, he was already looking their way, and after a few moments he seemed to realise that he'd been caught, blushing and rejoining the conversation he was having with George and some agent from Rotwell.
"You sure nothing happened?" Holly asked again, eyebrow raised.
"...Yep." The other girl just laughed, clearly not believing her, and dragged her further around the room.
~~~
"You alright, Luce?"
"Not really," she said, slumping into the chair next to Y/n. "Maya's talking to some other girl and I couldn't relate to anything they were saying, so I left."
"Aw, Lucy. You have been talking to her for what, an hour already? You're not going to have everything in common," Y/n reassured her friend, offering a soft smile.
"I s'pose you're right," she started. "That's what makes a good relationship, right?" Lucy was perking up with every word, sitting up in her chair and leaning forward.
"Yeah, like Y/n and Lockwood," Holly chimed in.
"Yeah, Holly's right. Wait, like- what?! What do you mean?! We're not- he's not-" Y/n spluttered, trying desperately to gain control of the situation after the slip-up and failing miserably. Lucy and Holly were doubled over laughing, clearly finding the situation hilarious, when all of a sudden Y/n shot her arms out to either side, grabbing hold of her friends. "No, seriously, stop it now. Look," she pointed towards Lockwood, hoping the girls would pick up on what was wrong.
"Is that-?"
"I'm gonna kick her arse into next fucking we-"
"Fucking Stephanie," Y/n spat, not missing the way that she was flirting with Lockwood. She hadn't realised the bitch was here, but now that she had it was incredibly difficult to take her eyes off of the scene. Now it was her turn to be gloomy, and every attempt to talk to Lockwood ended with Steph's friends (minions) pushing her back and acting like incredibly non-threatening bodyguards, but Y/n didn't want to cause a scene in the middle of a party that she wasn't technically invited to by shoving back.
Roughly an hour and a half after first spotting Stephanie with Lockwood, Y/n was stood with her back to a wall as she miserably looked on at the two of them somehow still engaged in conversation. The worst part was, Steph didn't look like she would be ending their chat anytime soon, and didn't appear to want to leave. Whether the girl knew about his affiliation with Y/n or not, she wasn't sure, but it was making Y/n increasingly more irritated as the night went on.
"Here," Lucy said, appearing at Y/n's side. "Take this." She held her hand out, one of her rings that she always wore sat in the centre of her palm, the sapphire shining up at her from its place in the centre of the band of silver.
"Uh, why?" A frown settled on Y/n's face, unsure where Lucy's mind was going.
"Because you're gonna go up to Lockwood, big smile on your face, and ask Steph why she's fondling your husband." Y/n could only stare at her friend, wondering what the actual hell had come over her.
"But... he's not my husband?"
"She doesn't need to know that, does she? You two are practically an old married couple anyway, so what does it matter? Besides, if nothing else it's an opportunity to cuddle up to him," she said the last part with a wink, making Y/n flush as she remembered the last time she had 'cuddled up' to Lockwood.
"Well, George is over there, he's not going to play along, is he?" she attempted to find a way out of this situation that Lucy had put her in, but the agent had a solution to everything, it seemed.
"Oh, I told him about this. He's promised to go with it. There was absolutely no way I was gonna let your brother be oblivious, he's a terrible liar sometimes." Lucy was still standing with her hand out, ring gleaming up at Y/n, and she had half a mind to say no and continue suffering until she heard a loud laugh come from the other side of the room. Both girls looked for the source, and Y/n bristled when she realised that it was Steph laughing, hand placed firmly on Lockwood's arm as she leaned into him. Not thinking twice, Y/n grabbed the ring, shoved it on her finger, and marched over to where her new fake husband stood. She squeezed between Steph and Lockwood (difficult, since the other girl had practically glued herself to him) and wrapped her arms around his waist, trying to steady her heart as she felt his warmth engulf her.
"Hi, love," she smiled up at him, willing him to stop staring at her with his eyes so wide open in shock and hug her back. He stuttered for a moment, going red, and vaguely Y/n registered Steph's outraged expression in the corner of her eye and George's stifled laughter.
"Uh- hi- hello."
"Y/n? I didn't realise you were going to be here," Steph asked through gritted teeth, obviously annoyed at the interruption.
"Oh, Steph! I didn't see you there! Of course I'm here, why wouldn't I be? My husband got invited and so naturally I was his plus one!" It was petty, she knew, but totally worth it for the look on Steph's face when Y/n emphasised the word 'husband' while smiling lovingly up at Lockwood.
"...Husband?" she asked, eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them. Lockwood was still rigid as a pole, although he had brought his arms around Y/n's waist after she pinched him in the side. He leaned in to whisper in her ear.
"I second that. Husband?"
"Oh, did I not tell you?" Lockwood hadn't moved his head away from her ear, instead nuzzling further into her neck, and it was becoming difficult to think straight. "We got married!" She flashed the ring at Steph, delighting in both the pure, unfiltered shock on her face and also the way in which Lockwood had moved his hands to hold her body closer to his.
"Well- I- okay then. But one question, for Lockwood?" He pulled his head up, dopey smile on his face as he nodded for Steph to continue.
"Why would you ever marry someone like her? I mean, you know that she's adopted, right?"
Y/n could practically feel George bristle behind her and get ready to punch Steph's lights out, but Lockwood remained calm, his expression sharpening and spine straightening as he took Steph in.
"I don't see how her not being biologically related to her parents affects how much I love her, do you?"
"It's just that-"
"I married Y/n because of who she is, not because of her family, although having George around is wonderful," Lockwood cast a smile at Y/n's brother before continuing. "She's the most incredible person I have ever met, and she far outshines you in every way and I think you know that, and you're jealous of it. I know that I'm jealous of how incredible you are, darling," he turned to Y/n, using the hand that wasn't around her waist to push back a lock of hair, his fingers lingering for a few moments more than was necessary as he smiled softly at her. "And quite honestly, Steph, if you can't agree with me on that then I don't think we have anything else to talk about, do we?" It was a rhetorical question, Lockwood already turning away and linking his hand with Y/n's as he dragged her to the side of the room, but they could hear Steph spluttering being them as they went.
"So," he started once they were far enough away. "What was that all about?" He hadn't let go of her hand, and his thumb had started softly tracing patterns over their intertwined fingers.
"What?"
"I don't remember marrying you, Y/n, unless it happened when I was really drunk or sleep deprived," he joked, although something in his eyes was searching for any hint of truth to the words in her face.
"I just- she's- I-" Y/n took a breath, trying to figure out how to explain the whole thing to him without him getting mad or laughing at her. "Steph's always hated me, and Lucy knows that-"
"What's Lucy got to do with this?" She huffed at him, small frown appearing on her face.
"If you let me finish then you'd know!"
"Alright! Alright!"
"Yeah, so Lucy knows that Steph hates me, and I hate her, and you two were talking for so long and she was all over you and I couldn't keep watching, so Lucy gave me this ring that I think is actually one of mine that she stole," she frowned down at her hand, going off on a tangent, "and she told me I should go over and say we were married to get rid of Steph."
Lockwood didn't say anything, instead just staring at her with a blank expression, and Y/n looked down at their still linked hands.
"I'm sorry," she whispered after a while.
"Don't be," he whispered back, using his free hand to lift her chin up. "I'm just a little annoyed, to be honest."
"Oh, god, I really am sorry, Lockwood! I didn't mean to make you upset or anything, I just got pissed off with her and-"
"No! No no no, stop right there. I'm not annoyed at you, darling, never you. I'm annoyed at myself for not coming up with that plan earlier. She was really starting to piss me off too, and I kept hoping that George would intervene or something and he never did- I'm going to have to talk to him about that," Lockwood frowned, looking in her brother's direction. "I'm also... I'm annoyed that this is how I tell you that-"
"Here you are! I was wondering where you two had run off to!" George appeared, bright smile on his face, and Y/n couldn't stop the glare that came onto her face. Tell me what? If only George had turned up a few moments later, then she would know what Lockwood wanted to say. "We should probably find the others, party's wrapping up now and I'm craving my bed." Lockwood heaved a sigh, then nodded in agreement, following after George as her brother tried to find Lucy and Holly, casting a slightly pained glance over his shoulder at Y/n.
Tell me what?!
~~~
The journey back to Portland Row was uneventful since everybody was exhausted, although Lucy was practically buzzing in her seat because Maya had passed on her number, telling Lucy to call her.
"This means something, right?" she exclaimed as they piled through the front door. "I have a real chance with her, don't I?"
"Yes, Lucy. Yes you do," Y/n yawned, leaning slightly on Lockwood to take her heels off. Why she'd ever let Holly convince her that heels were needed when she could have worn her trainers instead she wasn't sure, but she breathed a sigh of relief when the first one was finally off. She wobbled for a moment trying to undo the strap on the other one when Lockwood steadied her, crouched down, and took her leg into his hands as his fingers worked the clasp. A few moments later he was done, gently pulling the shoe off of her foot, and although he had only had his hands on her for what couldn't have been more than ten seconds Y/n could feel her cheeks heating up and her heart beating faster.
"Lockwood, what the fuck are you doing?"
"George, they're having a moment, alright? Leave 'em alone," Lucy hissed, taking him by the arm and dragging him upstairs, hushed apologies whispered as he tripped and face planted due to her harsh tugging.
"Good night you two, I'll see you in the morning," Holly said, following after her coworkers and leaving Y/n and Lockwood in the entrance hall alone for the second time in the last twenty-four hours.
"You're not going to bed, are you?" Y/n asked, a knowing smile on her face as she looked at Lockwood. He shrugged, heading towards the library instead of up the stairs.
"I'm not feeling too tired, to be honest," he replied.
"You never feel tired, I swear. Do you ever sleep?" She mock gasped. "Are you a vampire? Is that why you're so pale and are always awake at night?" She broke off into a fit of giggles, exhaustion making her mildly hyper.
"No, I am not a vampire," Lockwood laughed, shaking his head at her antics. "Go on, you should head up. Unlike me you can't run on tea and tea alone."
Y/n nodded, heading for the stairs, but stopped a little way up as she remembered something. "Lockwood?"
He paused in the doorway of the library, turning to face her with one hand still on the handle. "Yeah?"
"What were you gonna tell me before George came over? At the ball? You said you were annoyed that it took you so long to tell me something." A frown had worked its way onto her face, but Lockwood's was filled with a smile.
"Go to bed, darling. I'll see you in the morning." He disappeared into the library, leaving Y/n standing on the staircase staring at the place he had just been.
~~~
The next morning Y/n woke to an empty room, Lucy and Holly nowhere to be seen in the attic. She laid in bed for a little while, soaking in not having to get up and go to work, but eventually the need for food grew too strong and she was forced to start her day.
The kitchen was empty of George, too, and a short investigation led to finding a scribbled note on the thinking cloth that Holly, Lucy and George had gone for a grocery run at the supermarket. That left Lockwood, who was either hiding away in the house or had gone off on his own somewhere. Y/n's question was answered a few minutes later as she was pouring hot water into a mug for tea, and she nearly spilled the liquid all over her hands when Lockwood appeared and asked her to pour a cup for him.
"Shitting hell, Lockwood! Where did you come from?"
"Oh, I was downstairs. Doing a spot of rapier practice. Thanks," he gratefully accepted the mug that Y/n handed him, smiling brightly at her over the edge. She tried desperately to ignore the flush to his skin (and the mental images of Lockwood training), and turned back to her own mug of tea, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment in the hopes that she could go back to thinking normal thoughts. "You alright?"
"Hm? Oh, yes! Yeah, yep. I'm fine," she exclaimed, wincing at how the words came out. Lockwood stifled a snort (unsuccessfully) and took a sip of tea, yelping a moment later.
"Shit, that's hot!"
"Why wouldn't it be? You idiot!" Y/n was laughing fully, not bothering to hide how amusing she found the whole situation, and Lockwood was glaring at her from where he stood fanning his mouth. "You literally watched me pour boiling water into that like, a minute ago!"
"I know! I know! Stop laughing, will you? I feel bullied. I'm being bullied."
He took a glass out of the cupboard, filling it up with cold water from the tap and taking a long drink. They stood in silence for a while after that, Lockwood taking tentative sips of his tea while Y/n took large gulps, trying not to laugh at him when the memory of his reaction came back. They were very rarely alone in the house, with at least one other person somewhere and about to walk in, and Y/n decided that Lockwood had nowhere to go so she might as well corner him.
"Why didn't you answer me last night? When I asked what you wanted to tell me?"
He froze momentarily, the tips of his ears going pink as he hid behind his mug and scratched at the back of his head. "It doesn't matter, Y/n/n. Really."
"Well it matters to me, Lockwood. If nothing else the not knowing is killing me. Also I had just dragged you into a marriage with me, and while I do feel bad about that I also feel that you owe me this as well."
"You didn't drag me into a marriage, you surprised me with one," he joked, clearly stalling.
"Okay, fine, but seriously what were you going to say before my idiot brother came over?"
"I was just... going to say that..." he mumbled the last part, all the words smushed together and said quietly so that Y/n had trouble picking them out.
"Sorry, I genuinely could not hear you for the life of me Lockwood," her expression was apologetic, and he sighed through his nose as he looked up at the ceiling, closing his eyes before making a decision.
"I was going to say that I was annoyed that it took me so long to tell you that I love you."
"I love you too, Lockwood," Y/n frowned, wondering why he looked so beaten up about it. The five of them often told each other that they loved them, the words thrown around casually all the time.
"No, I mean- I love you, Y/n. To the point that George punches me in the arm sometimes because I won't shut up about how amazing or funny or kind or smart you are."
"Oh."
"Yeah." He hesitated for a few seconds, then spoke up again. "If you don't... I don't want this to ruin our friendship if you don't feel the same way though."
"Why wouldn't I feel the same?"
"You haven't said anything and it's- it's freaking me out!"
"Well I do feel the same! I'm just also freaking out because you love me too!"
"We're a mess, aren't we?" Lockwood laughed.
"Absolutely."
"So- So if I asked you on a date... would you-"
"Yes. Sorry, I- you can finish."
"I mean I think I got my answer, to be honest." He smiled softly at Y/n, placing his mug down and slowly coming over to where she leaned against the countertop. She reached her arms up and draped them around his neck, bringing him into a hug, and his own hands found their way to her waist. His eyes flicked between hers and her lips, and then he was whispering "Can I kiss you?" and leaning in when she nodded, pressing his lips to hers gently. They didn't rush, taking their time as they kissed softly, Lockwood's fingers brushing the skin just under her jumper and Y/n's fingers tangling in his hair, and when they pulled away for air they stayed close, foreheads bumping against each other.
~~~
When Holly, Lucy and George got home just over an hour later, arms laden with shopping bags, the silence was deafening.
"I really hope they haven't killed each other," Holly frowned, peering up the stairs as if doing so would help her find their missing friends.
"Maybe they've finally got together and are on a date," Lucy exclaimed, poking George in the side when he wouldn't move out of the way of the cupboard that she needed to open.
"Ow! I'm torn about that. On the one hand if they do get together I'll be glad they've stopped pining, on the other they'll be insufferable. You know what Lockwood's like, all lovey-dovey and attention giving, and Y/n will soak it up like a dry sponge."
"Oh, I found them!" Holly poked her head through the kitchen door, neither Lucy or George having noticed her leave. She lead them to the library, motioning for quiet as she pushed the door open. "They must have been reading and got tired. They totally confessed, just look at them!"
Lockwood and Y/n were curled up (somehow) on the larger of the two armchairs in the library, limbs entangled and hanging off of the arms and a book dangled in Lockwood's free hand, the other wrapped around Y/n keeping her safely tucked into his chest as the two of them slept. George looked like he was trying to be upset, but Lucy could see the smile he was holding off at the sight in front of them.
"We should leave them to it, I s'pose," Lucy murmured, pulling the door shut softly with a small click. "You alright, George?"
"Just thinking about how horrible things will be with them finally together," he replied, rolling his eyes and heading back into the kitchen to start dinner.
"He's not really upset, is he," Holly said, more stating it as a fact than posing a question.
"Nope. He's gonna be singing while he cooks, I can guarantee it."
Sure enough, barely five seconds after Lucy said the words, singing could be heard from behind the closed kitchen door alongside the clash of pots and pans.
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jaeyunsz · 1 year
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a writer’s main character - lee heeseung
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pairing: heeseung x fem!reader (she/her)
genre: college!au, writer!heeseung, ill!reader, ANGST
expected word count: 25k+
warnings: mentions of death and sickness, unrequited love, cursing, smut (more will be added when it is finalized)
summary:  in your whole life, you have never fallen in love. love was a feeling that you wanted to experience and after finding out that you have just a little more than a year to live, you become more desperate to fall in love with someone. lucky for you, the head editor of your university’s newspaper is determined find a muse for their best writer, lee heeseung, for him to finish up his last article before he graduates. you only accept in one condition; heeseung would help you fall in love.
a/n: reposting this bc i decided to finish it and hope to post it in the upcoming weeks!
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It was already April and Heeseung still had zero idea what to write about. He had recently turned in his latest article. He wanted to start writing his last article for the year immediately so it wouldn’t bother him when he gets busy with graduation. He didn’t expect to be out of ideas since his mind was always clouded with new stuff to type on his laptop. Well, there was a first time for everything, right? He just wanted his last article to be big and original, never been done before. He wanted to leave an impact.
Being a literature major, Heeseung had always liked to read books and write in his dusty notebook. His dream was to publish a book and he would do everything to make his dream come true. He was still young and had a lot to learn. Throughout the years, he worked next to different writers and publishers.
Heeseung had been writing for the university’s newspaper since the freshmen year. People barely got the chance to publish their own writings in the newspaper so it came as a surprise when Heeseung’s article was seen on the first page as a first year student. He was on cloud nine to see that he had given a chance to prove himself as a writer.
But now, he was on writer’s block and the head editor was getting on his nerves.
‘’Have you thought about what you’re going to write about Heeseung?’’ Yeonjun asked during a meeting, making Heeseung bite the inside of his cheek.
‘’I’m stuck.’’ Heeseung replied, not taking his eyes off from his phone as he scrolled through empty apps. Yeonjun eyed him up and down, watching the writer closely.
‘’I can see that you’re stressed about it. Don’t you seriously have nothing to write about? It’s just- I’ve never seen you like this before. You always have something up your sleeve.’’ The older boy confronted him.
Yeonjun was also surprised by this outcome since Heeseung always had magnificent ideas. Heeseung locked his phone and put it on the table in front of him. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh before looking at Yeonjun again.
‘’I know you don’t like to ask about others for ideas but listen to me for a second before you try to punch me. I think I have certain person in my mind that you might want to write about.’’ Yeonjun continued, his words making Heeseung sit straight up.
‘’I’m desperate at this point. I’m all ears.’’
Yeonjun let released a relieved sigh, a tiny smile replacing the frown on his face. ‘’Have you ever met Beomgyu’s friend, Y/N?’’
‘’Not in person but I think I’ve seen her around.’’
‘’Heeseung, she is dying-‘’
‘’What do you mean she is dying?’’ Heeseung said with a serious expression.
‘’Heeseung, she is literally dying. Beomgyu mentioned that she had a heart condition. It does not look good and her doctor says that she only has around a year before… you know. The interesting part is; after she found all about that she told Beomyu that she wanted to fall in love so why don’t you write about her? Follow her around for a couple months until she finds somebody. Your article will be ready by then. Also the story will stay as a memory in her honor. So what do you say?’’
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gabigabigabby · 10 months
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headcanons | england national team
3lions x fem!reader
headcanons of other countries; brazil, portugal and argentina
a/n: act three; england! this took longer than i expected, my bad ab that! as usual, lmk if u want specific players! i also added emile smith rowe in this bc it's ab time gareth southgate advances him to first team again why not. enjoy 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿!
synopsis: headcanons of the 3lions during the world cup 🏆
jack grealish
u and jack get along so well
when u first met him, u initially thought otherwise
he likes to party
u like to party
it's just a match made in heaven basically
sometimes jack's brummie accent is a little bit hard to understand
but ur grateful that even when u tell him that
he would simplify his accent to make it more understandable for u
besides checking on his gf hours before the game
he'd check on u as well
he'd always ask if ur feeling comfortable
always offers bottles of water bc they were given a huge carton to deal w
this man is such a sweetheart
phil foden
i wanna say foden is ur best friend in the 3lions
but i dont wanna jinx it
u and ronnie actually get along so well
and u were one of the first people (besides all the man city guys) to meet his newest daughter, true
"true foden... that's what she is" u once told phil w tears in ur eyes
damn u and ur baby fever
when phil scored his first world cup goal
u would be lying if there weren't tears in ur eyes
this man...
he loves his country so much
and u know exactly how much
so for him to be able to score that goal
was such a magical experience
not only for phil, but for u as well
funny guy, man
john stones
what can i truly say ab our barnsley beckenbauer
HE IS THE COOLEST FRIEND U CAN EVER FIND
he'd be down to do anything w u
and by anything
i mean ANYTHING
whether it be get drunk
try to score the lottery
get a tattoo/piercing
expect johnny stones to say yes to that
i honestly think it'd be really fun to be friends w john
bukayo saka
trust me when i say
u were one of the first people that b approached
for saka's spelling school
he told you to spell 'veterinarian' and u aced it
trent, jack and emile were nothing short of SHELLSHOCKED when u spelled it correctly
"i can't believe u aced that!"
"do u guys really think i'm that stupid?!"
and jack goes "YES! that's why ur friends w us!"
to u, b is hilarious
u love when he laughs
he just has that serotonin-inducing laugh
harry kane
like he is to the rest of the boys
harry is like a father figure to u
u have a problem w something
go to harry
exams bothering u
talk to harry
ur just bored and wanna stock up some dad jokes for the future
harry has them
harry's just
that guy
that dad guy
there is absolutely nothing else i can say
jude bellingham
hailing from birmingham
i could only assume this guy's got a lot of town inside jokes
u don't understand ANY of them
him and trent are the duo around here
so sometimes whenever he'd invite u for dinner
he'd invite trent along so it doesn't feel like a date
although u could easily go on a date w him and he wouldn't say anything
u and jude would have some nights where u would switch snacks w each other
u got to try jude's childhood snacks and he got to try ur childhood snacks
u and jude just loved having bonding sessions
it's a staple everytime u both hang out together
declan rice
RICE RICE BABY~~
u would be lying if u told me that song isn't stuck in ur head 24/7
but trust me, it'd be stuck in dec's head too
it would be u, mason and declan running around hopping bars all the time
to the point where some of the guys would get a little jealous bc of how close u, mase and dec got throughout the world cup
best believe rice rice baby is playing in the background everytime the three of u hang out together
"this is our song now" dec once said
dec loves to laugh
and u love making him laugh
match made in heaven
mason mount
u spend so much time w dec that sometimes mase gets a little bit jealous
so now u spend 3 days w mase
3 days w dec
and 1 day w the both of them
mason's a fast food enthusiast
and since u are always travelling w the england squad
u and mase would explore the cities and look for fast food outlets on his off days
mase would usually scarf down a burger
u also would if ur feeling extra hungry
why are u guys just the ultimate duo ever! i'm jealous...
emile smith rowe
i just know emile's personality is somewhat similar to mase
they vibe so damn well together
but if u were there, emile would go 10x crazier that he usually is
leos are supposed to be very difficult people
but emile is the most outgoing, easy person to be around and be friends w
he'd say yes to literally anything
trust when i say anything
i mean anything
he's the type to invite u to a game at the emirates
and then when he sees u run up to him after the game
he'd act all surprised
"omg you came?!! you love me so much!"
"omg shut up, you literally asked me to come!"
i love this guy sm
underrated player and what a lad
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paganimagevault · 2 years
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Siberian snow goggles from the Khanty, Nganasan, & Sakha
Toying with an idea here. The concept of the one-eyed Arimaspians has me curious if this was a nickname for people from the north who lived in places where snow goggles may have given the appearance of having a single eye. Given a far enough physical distance and passing through the gossip of enough different languages, by the time this info made it to the Greeks what began as a nickname may have sounded like these people were literal cyclopes. Just a thought. I assume people back then used eye protection from the snow, in some manner, just like people do today. Some of the snow goggles (both modern and historical) do give the appearance of a single giant eye, while others have two eye spots. I wasn't able to find much on this as far as historical info goes, and unfortunately I couldn't find images of the ancient grave finds the article talked about. The oldest of the discovered snow goggles being 2,000 years old from northeast Asia. I'm not sure if the initial black and white sketch is of the ancient goggles or not, the post didn't explicitly say. Below is whatever info I could find on historical snow glasses in Eurasia: 
"In ancient times, like today, these goggles were made by skilled masters to combine effectiveness in blotting out the blinding light in some cases looking amazing.
Different ethnic groups across polar regions evolved their own distinctive style in snow goggles.
The most ancient known eyewear belong to the Old Bering Sea culture, the sites of which are located on the both sides of Bering Strait.
The oldest date for the culture - around 400 years BC - was obtained on Russian side, at Ekven graveyard, in Chukotka.
The peak of the culture is considered to be in second and third centuries AD. 
At Ekven and also Uelen graveyards snow goggles made of bone were found, dating from the first to the fifth centuries AD.
Some were decorated with carvings, some not, and examples are shown here in these drawings.
Later the snow goggle tradition by Eskimos, for example the Inuits and Yupik, and the Chukchi people.
While there was an obvious practical use for the goggles, a variant of these ‘spectacles’ xxxx is believed to have been used by traditional shamans; for example a pair of goggles without holes of slips was found at Ekve
The Event and Dolgans people turned to metal in making the eyewear with copper or tin or silver goggles inserted into a half-mask made of reindeer skin or other pelt, or, later, cloth obtained from Russian incomers. Decorations with beads was also a feature.
The same type of goggles was also used by other Arctic people such as the  Nganasan or Khanty. The British Museum even has some examples.
The tradition continues to this day and is thriving in Yakutia - also known as Sakha Republic, the largest region in the Russian Federation. 
Going back in time, the Yakut people used a wide range of materials to make goggles - metal, birch bark, wood, bone, skin, and horsehair. 
The goggles created from horsehair comprised strips of intricate net. A surviving 19th century example comes not from Yakutia but Tuva, the mountainous region in southern Siberia, now in a collection in the Irkutsk Museum of Local History. 
Most of the metal goggles in Yakut collections are dated from between the 18th and early 20th centuries. 
Again, some definitely had ritualistic uses: they were deployed by shamans, and not in everyday day life for use in snow.
Many Yakuts recall that their grandfathers had very simple goggles made of birch bark. 
Local historian Prokopy Nagovitsyn said: 'The round shaped silver goggles began to make an appearance in 19th century, when there appeared many rich people. 
‘The shape had a symbolic meaning - cross in the circle had been the symbol of the sun since neolithic times. 
‘Yet the cross-shaped cuts are convenient not when you are in tundra, but when you, for example, climb steps.’
Most of the older goggles look rather simple - for example a metal strip with the small deepening for the nose and slots for sight. Others have  two round metal discs with a slit to see through while blotting out most of the glare; these were fixed into a the mask of skin or fur."
-taken from SiberianTimes
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fluffypotatey · 5 months
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i haven’t seen a lot of mechanic!SWK au’s going around *sighs* have to do everything around here 😤
In Sun Wukong’s 500 year retirement he found many hobbies to occupy himself with
art and animation and game design were a huge hit to help get those brain juices flowing
however, they don’t do much help in actually silencing the racing thoughts in his head (and boy does he have a lot of them! not to mention that he can’t help but notice everything and everyone and yeah sure, being given the title of Bodhisattva is great and awesome but the omniscience part is a little taxing 😅)
anyway, enter cars
more specifically car engines, the machine behind the wheel, the things that actually make these automobiles move and function
those things
yeah so Wukong starts to pick up on a new hobby and it is……car mechanics!!!
Wukong being able to just open up the hood or roll under the car to observe whatever the problem is, to be able to examine and hone in on all the little details that go into making vehicles and it just silences that part of his racing mind
it’s a little similar to how fighting used to do it. where he didn’t need to think of much besides the person in front of him and how to take them down
it was similar. so similar
except, you know, no violence
also, instead of coming home covered in blood, it’s motor oil this time 👍
anyway,
in this AU, Sun Wukong opens up a mechanic shop. it grows very popular for obvious reasons (or not bc maybe Wukong just disguised himself as a human to avoid suspicions and “yeah no, Monkey King Mechanics is in no way related to the Monkey King because….that guy is just sO cool he inspired this name….yeah”) and soon has franchises all over the city
and Wukong is having a grand old time, retirement is going well, until one day an old broken down kart is pulled into his shop and the driver is begging him to fix whatever is wrong and “just please don’t tell my boss! Dads-I mean, Pigsy will freak if he leans what Mei and I were doing—”
so he agrees to help out the kid (“I’m actually 23…?”), free of charge. however! only if he promises Wukong will get free noodles for a week
they shake on it
Wukong thinks nothing of this encounter until the end of the week (his last free bowl of noodles) and MK ashamedly admits that actually his friend Mei is also a mechanic but he denied her help this time because his boss/pseudo-dad has been able to pick up on her magical signature (because she has a knack for adding fun additional touches like a glider button for the steeper roads) and would find out very quickly that MK got himself into some mischief (again) and MK just didn’t want to be nagged again
which leads to Wukong offering to help teach MK on how to fix his own delivery kart bc 1) he’ll avoid another confrontation about responsibility from Dads- i mean, Pigsy 2) it was just good to know what goes on in your own vehicle “not to mention being able to sniff out the load of bs that some mechanics can give you, making everything overpriced!” and 3) MK was starting to rub off on the guy and Wukong would miss him (maybe. a little. a bit. a lot)
AND THUS brings us to our beloved sunburst duo hanging out as mentor and student once more!!!
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More Than 7 Minutes in Heaven Part 2 - Rafe Cameron x Reader Smut
Part 1
NOT PROOFED
The people have spoken, so here is part 2.
Summary: Rafe talks you through the real deal. READER IS ON BC!! USE PROTECTION PLEASE!
Warnings: language, smut, mild praise and degrading, reader gets called princess, RAFE IS A CONSENT KING IN THIS!!!!
Yall, I think this may be my best fucking work ngl.
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After your escapades in the bathroom, which lasted wayyyyy longer than seven minutes, you and Rafe decided to get out of the party and back to Tannyhill.
You paid no mind to the whoops and hollers from Rafe's friends as the two of you walked by, thoughts solely focused on your boyfriend and what he had just given you. And what he was going to give you again.
He unlocked his truck and helped you inside. The anticipation of what was to come was eating away at the both of you. You could tell Rafe was antsy, his tight grip on the steering wheel was proof of that.
The two of you were silent, which added to the desperation in the air. Through your stolen glances at your boyfriend, you could see that he was nervous. You had seen Rafe nervous about many things, his family, Cameron Development, and everything that went down with Barry last year, but you had never seen him nervous around you. It calmed you down in a way, that he was as anxious as you.
Rafe seemed to get his act together and glanced at you, fingers drumming on your thighs, the thighs he was between not 15 minutes ago, the thighs he needed to be in between again... His right hand reached over the console to grab yours. You met his eyes at the sudden contact and he gave you his signature Rafe Cameron smirk, sending all of the things you were feeling in the bathroom right back down to...
His hand squeezes yours, bringing you back to reality. You've arrived at Tannyhill and Rafe is desperate to get you out of the car and into his room, desperate to get back between your thighs. His other hand brushes your cheek, turning your face to his. He leans in as if to kiss you but pauses, centimeters from your face, teasing you.
“So, what do you wanna do, princess?” Your breath catches. You had thought he was going to kiss you. Rafe's hand brushes your cheek, down your neck, and continues further, until it rests on your thigh.
"Rafe..."
He grins.
"What, baby?" He's surprised by his own self-control, as it is taking all of it to not fuck you in his truck. But you deserve the best, and that's what he'll give you, even if it means pushing his self-control to its limit.
Instead of responding, you lean forward to press your lips against his. His hands immediately pull your body over the center console and onto his lap. Rafe pulls away from you.
"Impatient, are we? C'mon princess, let's get you inside so I can take care of you." Something rushed through your veins at his words, sending anticipation coursing through your body. With that, he reconnects your lips.
Through the kissing, Rafe manages to get the two of you out of his truck and into Tannyhill. Once upstairs in the privacy of his bedroom, though no one else is home, he turns so your back is against his closed door. Rafe's mouth places hot kisses down your jaw and neck. Your hips roll into his and he backs away.
"Rafe!"
"M'so sorry, baby. Soon. I just have to taste you again." He mumbles into your neck before sinking back onto his knees.
Your heart picks up speed as you watch him below you, his hands gently lifting your leg to position it over his shoulder. His gaze catches yours and he grins before delving into your heat.
He keeps eye contact as he eats you out, which is the sexiest thing you've ever seen. You didn't dare break his gaze. But then,
Your head slams back against the door as his lips wrap around your clit, pulling at it. The moan that leaves your throat is strangled, his talented tongue overwhelming your senses.
Your hands grasp his head, forcing him further into you, his nose bumping your clit. He grins into your cunt at the release of your moan.
"Mmph vmm gmm." The vibrations of Rafe's muffled words bring you over the edge and he drinks up every last bit.
He rises from the floor, hands settling on your waist. His smile is wide and his face is wet with your release.
"What did-" You pause to catch your breath. "What did you say?" Rafe licks his lips.
"I said that you taste good." Your face flushes as you are suddenly very aware of what just happened. Shivers race through your body as you think about the sight of Rafe in between your legs, how'd it feel to feel him push into you, stretching your tight cunt out...
"Babe?" His hands are now placed on the door next to your head. "Whatcha thinkin' bout?" The amusement is evident on his face and you look away in embarrassment. "Princess, what were you thinking about just now?" He leans in closer, sending your heart racing.
"Nothing..." Your voice is in a low whisper which makes Rafe chuckle.
His hand moves to brush against your cheek.
"Is my sweet girl thinking about how she wants to be fucked?" It's odd, the sickly sweet way he's speaking the vulgar words, but it's so fucking hot coming out of his mouth. "You're just so needy, aren't you?" Your body spasms when his fingers brush your sopping cunt, toying with the sensitive skin before rolling your clit between his fingers.
You bring your bottom lip between your teeth to stop the moans threatening to escape.
Rafe, however, is clearly enjoying himself. He loves the sight of you backed against his door, face flushed and body sweaty and hot, from just his fingers and mouth? He loved how responsive your body was to his touch, memorizing the way your eyes rolled back when he pinched your clit lightly.
"Tell me, princess." Your hips act on their own accord, rolling into his hand at the nickname.
Of course, Rafe catches this.
"Oh you like that, don't you?" You feel yourself getting closer to your third orgasm of the night, completely mesmerized by his wrist under your dress. But then, he stops. Your hand immediately grasps his, urging him to continue. "C'mon princess..." He uses the nickname against you and you whimper pathetically. His head dips to your collarbones, kissing them before saying, "Tell me how you want me to fuck you. My bed or against the door. Your decision, baby."
His head raises up and you finally look into his eyes. His fingers pinch your clit once again, a loud moan leaving your throat that goes straight to his dick.
"The bed, Rafe." He grins.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" He doesn't wait for your reply.
He captures you in a kiss before lifting you up and the next thing you know, you are lying down at the edge of his gigantic bed, legs spread, giving him the perfect view of you. He pulls away and runs his tongue over his lips while he looks at you. Watching him sends another wave of heat to your core, something Rafe doesn't miss.
You watch in earnest as Rafe takes his t-shirt off, revealing his glorious body to you. As his hands reach for his belt, you sit up to stop him.
"Can I do it?" The question shocks Rafe but it only adds to his endearment of you.
'Always so eager to please me, aren't ya? Even when I'm takin' care of you." He leans down to kiss your forehead, out of place but it calms you down.
Your hands replace his and unbuckle his belt, pulling the leather out of the belt loops of his pants. You try not to look at the tent in his khakis but it is hard not to miss.
Fuck, he must be huge! You think.
Your hands begin to shake as you unbutton his pants and he stops you.
"Remember, tonight is all about you." His hands find the hem of your dress and he breaks the kiss. "Can I take this off of you?" You nod. "No, I need you to say it, hon."
"Yes, Rafe." It comes out quieter than you had hoped it would. He presses another kiss to your forehead.
Rafe begins to pull the dress up, revealing your body to him and he swears, he almost comes then and there. You just look so goddamn innocent but also so sexy, a fuckin' hell of a combo.
"Can I touch you?" He's taking you in, not wanting to miss a single fucking detail about your naked form. Somehow, you don't feel shy. Rafe is making you feel so safe and special, giving you no reason to hide from him.
"Please..." His eyes briefly flash to yours before he proceeds. His large hands slide over your smooth skin, committing everything about you to memory. His mouth is hot as it kisses down your front, goosebumps erupting in his wake. His hands slide up, tracing under your breasts. He takes them into his hands, careful to not touch your nipples, teasing you the slightest bit.
Your hands rest on his hard shoulders and it urges him on more.
Finally, his lips wrap around your nipple, his fingers rolling the other between them. Your back arches off the bed, hips pressing into his and Rafe's eyes roll. He pulls away.
"If you want this to last you can't go on doing that." You blush. "I want this to be good for you." But you can't take it anymore. You are practically dripping onto the sheets below you.
You pull Rafe in for a kiss.
"Rafe." His face is in between your hands, eyes wide as he looks into your eyes. He looks adorable with his cheeks squished and it makes your heart soar. "This has been good for me, so so good. But if you don't fuck me within the next few minutes..." Rafe is quick to oblige, hands rushing to pull off his pants, all while kissing you senseless.
As Rafe tugs off his boxers, he pulls away. Your breath catches in your throat at the sheer size of him. He's hovering over you before you can blink, kissing right below your ear before whispering,
"Princess..." You can tell he's struggling to contain himself. "Are you sure? Like completely sure?" He moves to look into your eyes, searching for any uncertainty. Your hand pushes his hair away from his face.
"I'm ready." You pull him in for a kiss but he is reluctant. "I promise, Rafe." You murmur against his lips.
You hold your breath as Rafe lines himself up to your entrance and his head drops to your neck as he pushes into you slowly.
Your hands find his shoulders again, nails digging into his tanned skin. Rafe doesn't mind at all, anything to help you through the worst part. He continues pushing into you, eyes screwing shut at how fucking tight you are. Once he bottoms out, he remains still, muscles straining, his grip on your waist tight.
You let the pain settle, trying to keep still as you adjust to the intrusion.
Finally,
"Rafe, you can move." He nods into your neck and begins to pull out, the pleasure that courses through your body is insane. Rafe smiles at your reaction and rolls his hips into yours.
"Fuck, baby." You feel so good around him, your tight cunt pulsating around his thick cock. Your hips involuntarily roll into his and you moan at the feeling.
Pride swells in Rafe's chest. He is making you feel this way. He's the only one who has made you feel this way...
The only one who ever will.
He continues his movements, moving slowly in and out of you.
"Rafey..." You're practically breathless and Rafe wants the sound imprinted in his mind forever. "Faster."
"Faster, huh?" His thumbs are rubbing circles on your hips. "Fuck you're so perfect." Rafe tugs your hips closer to the bottom of the bed and pushes your legs further apart. "My Princess wants it faster?" It's a rhetorical question but you nod anyways. "Then she'll get it faster."
Rafe's hips snap into yours and it's a feeling like no other. His mouth clamps over yours, swallowing all of your moans. Rafe continues his pace, all while kissing the hell out of you.
You feel yourself nearing your climax, spurred on by his thumb making its way to your clit and pressing down on it. You moan into his mouth and he grins in return.
"C'mon, Princess. I know you're close." You writhe beneath him, his words adding to the fire. "So needy for me, huh?" He rolls your clit between his fingers and your body spasms. "Go on, Princess. Come."
As if on command, you come around him. Rafe isn't far after, how could he be with how fucking amazing your warm cunt feels around him?
He rests on his forearms above your head and kisses you again, calming your body down from the high.
"Are you ok?" You smile into the kiss, cupping his face to bring him closer to you.
"It was amazing, Rafey." Rafe blushes at the nickname... Or the praise... Probably both. He kisses you in response.
"So, you like it when I call you Princess?" His Rafe Cameron smirk is back, his usual cockiness returning with it.
The blush across your cheeks is enough of a reply.
ENJOY!
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yesloulou · 2 months
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Hi friend.
Actually just today, my friend and I was talking about Daniel after the race. He’s been watching F1 for way longer then me. I expressed my concern over the last two weeks even though this is only the beginning of the szn. He said and I summerised, currently DR can only be in midfield teams is cus while he dose have the skills, he’s too unserious for like SF or MER, but his unseriousness brings great publicity for midfield teams.
I think in some aspects this may be true. But It’s just, like, idk, thought of this hits me. I know this jester aura (?) often surrounded him and people saying it’s great for marketing and stuff, but isn’t that a bit unfair tho? Maybe DR is always DR, way before F1 he is DR, and now all of a sudden his a publicity stun.
(feel sad for millionaires)
Idk what will happen after this szn but I really hope he keeps racing.
You know when you look at someone and look at what they do, you just go like, yeah for sure that’s what they do? I look at Daniel and I have this feeling. He’s a racer, always have been and always will, maybe he’ll go to Indy or some other competitions if this doesn’t work out, but in heart he’s a racer, he belongs to the track and the speed.
That’s just how I feel, and don’t really know who I can say this to, so thank you for letting me vent.
Wish him all the best for home race.
this is so sweet (the way you worry for daniel's prospects) and '(feel sad for millionaires)' got me irl lol 😭 your friend sounds like he's watched f1 for a long time but i would disagree with his conclusion. i provide that:
allegedly ferrari decided to not go for daniel after seeing him dance with daniil kvyat in the pit lane to entertain fans during rain delay at usgp 2015. the situation first of all was fortunately and unfortunately more nuanced than daniel being "unserious". the ferrari at the time was also run by arrivabene during bernie ecclestone's f1 reign. the ferrari today, two team principles later and after liberty media's f1 takeover, has changed in many ways. for example, in 2022 they had charles and carlos do this tiktok trend which definitely, definitely flirted with "the boundaries" (whatever that means) way more. so no, even tho daniel doesn't drive for ferrari, i wouldn't say he is "too unserious" for them.
merc is considered a more "corporate" environment in f1, example is valtteri's change in public image after leaving mercedes. however given that at the end of 2022 toto went as far as literally wearing daniel's merch in an attempt to reserve him for mercedes, i'd say obviously they don't consider daniel "too unserious" either.
publicity in f1 just generally cannot be a bad thing. more people interested in watching a driver means more sponsors willing to pay $$$$ to put their names and logos onto their livery. and more $$$$ means better chances at making a faster car, which is a goal of every team's. one can argue that a successful and financially secure team like red bull or ferrari might not be attracted to the benefit of a driver's popularity as much. but again, sports rely on viewership to sell broadcasting rights and ad spots, and publicity just generally can't be a bad thing.
i know the first two races were not great but this season literally just started. nothing is real yet. and daniel at least ended this week on a positive note so even more reasons to look ahead. the thing about f1 is that there is one winner and nineteen others. so as long as you're watching you're basically guaranteed more bad days than good ones. we can't all be watching bc we all believe our blorbos will be wdc, right? we watch and hope that something good might just happen. like if you think about it even though daniel has been out here causing us stress all these years he still manages to pull off minor to major miracles every year or two. this hopefulness is very precious so i say we watch it for that.
anyways. i hope this made you feel better and more excited about the season ❤️❤️❤️
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