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sleepw-me · 3 months

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BF HEADCANONS HQ ⊹ ₊ ˚ 𓂃 ⸝⸝ ♡

Haikyuu version SFW

t.kageyama⸝⸝ ♡ Definitely winter is his favorite season, when you are his girlfriend he will definitely want to do some winter activities with you, such as walking around the city with a nice composition of Christmas lights. building a snowman in his yard. Throwing snowballs at each other and taking you to a nice cafe for hot chocolate.

k.tsukishima⸝⸝ ♡ We all know by now that Tsuki likes music, I'm sure he would share his headphones with you so you could listen to music together at school. When you're at his place, you just spend time with him, while he's doing his homework and you're hugging his dinosaur-shaped stuffed animal, and there's some music playing in the background. He made a playlist for you, but at first he was embarrassed to show it to you, there were songs he associated with you.

t.yamaguchi⸝⸝ ♡ During the lesson, when he gets tired of listening to the teacher, he will start drawing cute hearts and flowers in the corners of your notebook with colored pens, and if you let him, he will draw a whole meadow on your hand. You can give him your shoes to decorate them nicely with colorful flowers and drawings.

d.sawamura⸝⸝ ♡ He probably didn't know what princess treatment was before, he was just well brought up and everything he does comes easily to him, he thinks that's how you should treat your ladies. When your shoe is untied, he kneels in front of you and ties it for you. He carries your shopping, your handbags too, but not in his hand, as if he was ashamed that someone would see him with your women's handbag, he literally throws it on his shoulder and walks with it just like you would.

a.azumane⸝⸝ ♡ He has long hair, so he always has a rubber band on his wrist, so if you need it, he will lend it to you and even tie your hair for you.

s.hinata⸝⸝ ♡ This sweet little orange bun remembers the smallest details about you, even if sometimes you feel like he's not listening anymore and you stop talking, he immediately encourages you to continue. He remembers every detail, your favorite number, your favorite and hated color, the name of your first cat and he will even remember the names of your entire family if you mentioned them.

k.kozume⸝⸝ ♡ He found the perfect person to cuddle with, it's you!. Expect that if you have a large sweatshirt, he will stick his head under it and play games. When he plays on the computer, he will invite you to sit on his lap and either watch him play or teach you how to play one of his favorite games, it's funny when she controls the mouse and you control the keyboard, you will definitely hear him chuckle when something goes wrong he will succeed but he is very patient.

t.kuroo⸝⸝ ♡ Sometimes you meet at his place to study for chemistry, then he wears his black glasses that make him look so good. If you don't understand a topic, he will teach you and if you answer correctly, he will give you a juicy kiss. If you need a break, he will bring you something sweet.

r.suna⸝⸝ ♡ He will definitely take a lot of photos of you to keep the memories. You will be his private model, he definitely has one of your photos where you are drooling on the pillow while still sleeping on his wallpaper. On his phone you will find the stupidest photos, for example your 0.5x photo. Until the prettiest ones, the ones where you smile so beautifully at him.

a.miya⸝⸝ ♡ Listen, I imagine Atsumu calling you very early in the morning to go to the beach with him. He will definitely take a few photos of you in your swimsuit, but most of all you will have a great time together, sunbathing or swimming, he will pretend to be a shark that wants to eat you so that you run away from him. When the sun is not so bright anymore, he will play beach volleyball with you, laughing when something goes wrong, but then he will teach you, he promise.

o.miya⸝⸝ ♡ He will invite you to his kitchen so that you can bake or cook something together and have great fun. So what if there's flour everywhere or something spilled on the floor, you'll clean it up later and now Osamu is busy kissing you while you wait for the dough to be made.

k.bokuto⸝⸝ ♡ If you stayed overnight at his place, don't think you'll sleep late if you wake up easily, because he'll start doing his morning stretches, doing push-ups, and encouraging you to sit on his back. He will sometimes ask you to join him, but you have barely woken up, but if you join him and stretch together, you must know that he will slow down on purpose so that you can keep up, he will be very happy.

a.akaashi⸝⸝ ♡ This sweet boy will read books to you but he will also be more than willing to listen to your voice if you read to him. He likes it when you lie on his lap and play a game while he rests the book on your head and you sit in comfortable silence.

k.sakusa⸝⸝ ♡ It's no surprise that this guy takes great care of himself and is glad that you do too. His favorite activity is when you spend the night at his place and do your skin care together, he likes it when you put a mask on his face and massage him gently.

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nouvxllev · 2 months

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Hi, love your writing! I have a request where reader and Jenna are in a long distance relationship and reader decides to surprise Jenna after hearing Jenna’s been having a tough week filming or something. Just something along those lines haha

a flight away

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: ^^ request!!!

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: bittersweet

a/n: first of all,, thank you so much!!!! and second of all, ill try my best! hope this is to ur liking anon

masterlist

You didn't know what you were getting into the first thing in the morning when you checked your phone at exactly 6:34 AM.

Normally, you'd do the routine where you stare at your wallpaper (it was a picture of Jenna) for a good 20 minutes before internally dying inside because of why should she be such a hardworking woman to the point you only get to see her for about 1-2 months before leaving again, but then fall in love with her like it was the first time for that exact reason entirely.

Now, you woke up to Jenna's notifications flooding her digital face, more voicemails and missed calls rather than messages.

Obviously, you panicked out of your fucking mind.

You knew she was safe in Ireland where she was filming season 2 of Wednesday. She has more bodyguards around her than people trying to get her autograph, and she has her co-stars with her at all times.

She was safe. Safe. The word almost sounded like a prayer you repeated in your head as you eyed her messages.

You couldn't open the voicemail for the reasons that you might hear an announcement that Jenna has got into some serious shit and might need to be hospitalized and you absolutely need to be there for her right now.

But after 5 minutes of going through all stages of grief, you pressed play.

You were not expecting Jenna to outright scream at her phone in the middle of the night.

"Y/n. Y/n, I—God, I don't even know where to start with this. I'm just so… so tired. From everything, from everyone. I don't know why, seriously, I don't know why but i just—I just broke down when I came back to my apartment."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I have to message you like this in the middle of the night. I'm doing well in Ireland, but I'm having such a rough fucking time in shooting every scene. It's not like I hate everyone on the set, I love them, I… I don't know."

"I need you, please Y/n. Even if it's just your voice, just please give me a piece of your presence. I need something to hold on, someone to tell me that it's going to be okay and I'll get through this. I know, it's a bit overdramatic but… I just miss you so damn much, and this distance is killing me more than ever. We haven't seen eachother atleast a year now. I'm so tired."

"Please pick up, y/n. It's selfish for me to ask, but I just want to hear you. It feels like I'm losing myself in all of this. I don't want to break down in front of everyone on set tomorrow. But, y/n. Y/n, y/n, y/n, it's so hard."

"I love you. I love you so much. So damn much, it's killing me. I miss New York, I miss our home, I miss you. I wish you were here. I'm sorry for letting you hear me like this over the phone, it's unbecoming. I love you, goodnight."

Your heart sank.

It was all too surreal, all too agonizing, like you feel bile coming up to your throat.

The daunting feeling of Jenna experiencing all of these emotions at once dragged your heart, her voice like a film tape in your mind as if were right there with Jenna in her room.

You heard her cry, you watched her curl herself up on her mattress all while she clung to her phone as if it was your hand she wished she held everyday.

You craved for the warmth of her hand, and you imagine she craves yours as much as you do with hers while you longed to be there with her, for her. To hold her close to you and offer the comfort she needed. The very touch that healed every scar, present and future, was replaced by the lifeless screen of your phone.

You were there, you swear you're there, but you couldn't do anything but listen.

On top of everything, you blamed yourself.

You called her almost everyday, the long-distance relationship being almost a mere label to the both of you.

You texted her every morning and went to bed with her every night. You were there, always. Yet, it felt like you neglected her. Like a piece of you was missing before you even realized it.

Now all you can think about are her restless nights.

The days where Jenna staged a performance with a heavy heart while you smiled with joy, the nights where you slept peacefully in your own bed while Jenna tossed and turned in discomfort in something unfamiliar, sacrificing her rest for your peaceful evenings to remain the same.

You don't know how many days she's been like this, nor do you want to know, the thought was unbearable enough.

And you almost feel bad of booking a plane ticket rather than responding to her. You were just a flight away anyways.

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Shit, her head hurts.

Hammering, actually.

Like someone cracked it open with an axe made out of obsidian right down the middle and served it to her on a silver platter.

She never should've accepted that afterparty invite from Georgie.

If she never got absolutely wasted to shots from bottles of alcohol, maybe Jenna would've had the brain capacity to curse him under her breath for being such a good damn friend.

Worst of all, she was missing someone. Horribly.

You.

Not just you, but everything of you.

Your scent, your warmth, your presence, your heartbeat against hers—a cruel reminder on how she was missing all of these.

She longed to hear the way you laugh as if you heard the funniest joke ever, the way you smile at Jenna as if she was a saint that had done nothing wrong, the way you loved her oh so dearly like she was the only person that made you crawl out of your skin in a good way.

Now it was taken from her. All of it. She felt like she was nothing without her muse, which was actually the case here.

Jenna was supposed to stay for a year with you—a whole fucking year! A whole year was watered down to a pathetic one to two months because of a change in filming schedule that Jenna had, somehow, no right to turn down.

That's not even half of the time Jenna spent miles away from you, and she couldn't even apologize properly in person since she had to depart so early in the morning.

The thought of you expecting Jenna to wake up beside you with a smile and a kiss only to be woken up with a cold bed with a note apologizing a million times made her flight to another country worse.

She would've been happier if the plane crashed then she would be begging to whatever afterlife she was in to bring her back to the living and spend her life with you.

It's gotten to that point where she looked just like Wednesday off-cam if not worse. She even almost snapped at Emma when she tried consoling her.

Now she sits in her trailer, on a chair, not with you, but with... a chair. Along with her script on a table.

Jenna tried a few lines, repeated them, tried a few lines, repeated them, and it all just comes back full circle.

No matter what she does, she still fucking missed you and wished she could just tell everyone she wanted and needed a nap along with her girlfriend by her side until it reaches winter of 2025.

She could take a nap right now, but you weren't with her. The cold surface would make you appear in her dreams like the loving parasite you are to her and she would only yearn more.

She could take a walk right now, but little ice cream shops along the way would only make her reminisce about the times you would take her out on dates every damn day like you had buckets on buckets of gold to spend it all on Jenna. She would only miss you even more.

She could talk to one of her co-stars, but they weren't you. The stupid and fuckass conversations you'd often bring up, they wouldn't do that. Even if they did, it wouldn't have the same effect.

Why did life suddenly become so difficult when she now has the most gorgeous, talented, and loving girlfriend a billion miles away from her!?

After putting her arms over her eyes, trying to calm down the impending woe and sadness she was facing, a soft knock on her door interrupted all of it.

"Jenna?" She heard Emma's voice, soft like she was hesitant to talk to her if not for Jenna responding with a hum, "we've been calling you for 5 minutes now. It's our scene."

Her voice was serious, though quiet. Or maybe that was just concern, Jenna has been distant for a while now.

Letting out a sigh, she replied, "Right, I'll be there in a minute."

She pulled herself up from the chair. She didn't really need to return to the makeup team, just thankful she didn't cry herself to death thinking about you.

She turned her back to see Emma standing in front of the door, half opened, peering half of her body, "Jenna, you know you can take a break if you want—"

Jenna only offered a weak smile, her steps matching Emmas as they walked over to set, "It's fine. Don't worry about me too much."

Her thoughts are too different from what she was saying, but it wasn't like she could say she'd rather kill herself before even stepping foot out of her trailer without seeing y/n.

"Jenna!" Tim Burton called her out, his voice calm, stretching out her name like he was going to say something completely off-guard.

The girl in question was already staring him down as he spoke, "We've got a change in script"

The girl in question was already staring him down as he spoke, "We've got a change in script. Nothing too big, just that we've added a new extra that Wednesday needs to interact with on this scene."

Isn't that a slight bit unprofessional?

Jenna could let out the most exhausted and exasperated sigh if not for Tim being the one of the sweetest, yet often odd, directors she ever worked with.

"Yeah, sure, can I atleast meet this person—"

"Sorry, Jenna," He lead her to the place she needed to be, the extra in question being no where near in Jenna's sight, "but this is really a last minute change and we just need you both to improvise."

"Wait, but—!"

Her protests were already too late, looking like it went through one ear and out the other through the audio. She was just grateful she had enough training and years in this industry to immediately get into character.

It was supposed to be her scene with Emma, lurking in the woods, a lantern between her fingers as they approached a silhouette of a figure.

Now it was just Jenna in the scene, lurking in the woods, leaves crunching under her combat boots as she watched the camera move alongside her body, not a lantern but rather a flashlight gripped on her palm.

She was informed that the silhouette in question was one of her co-stars that she had met before hand, a tall figure in the distance that she could immediately distinguish based on the back alone.

Now... it's... not exactly what she was expecting to see when she got in character.

She approached the figure, confused as ever, not because it was in her script to do so, but she was actually so damn confused it wouldn't be a surprise to her if she was imagining things.

Because the silhouette looked exactly like you.

Jenna knew you from the slightest shade of your skin, even when it's so damn dark outside.

She knew you from the way you stood, the way you sometimes would do whatever it is with your hands when idle, the way you'd often slightly tilt your head back when you're suppressing a hard giggle—which you were and failing to do so—the way you, in your own words by the way, aren't a good actress for Jenna to practice her lines on without laughing like a total maniac.

Holy shit.

Jenna's mind raced, all too fast for her liking, her heart pounding in her chest, and her body almost in flames at the thought of you being here. Finally being here.

It couldn't be real, of course it wouldn't, why would you be on set in fucking Ireland? It must be a trick, much so a figment of her imagination and maybe more or less girlfriend deprived of everything you gave her. But as she drew closer, her steps doing all but walking slowly to the silhouette, it because unmistakable who it was.

It was you.

Her best friend ever since she learned how to act in middle school, a friend that stuck with her forever even in times where you could've left her all alone.

Her girlfriend. The girlfriend of almost a few years that she loved and cherished with all her might, even if she were to commit a sin, there would be no greater wrong than Jenna disliking you.

It was her home. At last.

Without a second thought, Jenna abandoned everything, forgetting that she was even supposed to be the character she was and rushed towards her, arms already stretched in a desperate embrace to feel your warmth against her body once again. Your heartbeat against hers. It was all too surreal, all too fucking real.

Jenna threw herself into your arms, wrapping you in a tight hug that almost knock you both off of balance in the dirt. Your body stumbling forwards as your back was faced on her.

You still smelled like New York, mixed with that familiar airpot scent that Jenna always got used to. But now, it felt so new, so new that you were hugging her, touching her like it was the last symphony you'd play in your life.

She hugged you, tight. Her hands gripping your clothes like you'd disappear in a matter of seconds. You can hear her taking deep breaths against your body, gulps, and her hold tightening onto you with each passing moment.

As you turned around, you waited for Jenna to slowly loosen her grip, her eyes searching yours as if she still could hardly believe that you were here, standing in front of her after all this time apart. And now, you couldn't believe devotion was still present in her eyes, that warm of a gaze that you always managed to capture in her eyes.

"You're here. Y/n, you're—" She sniffed, looking up at you as she cupped your cheeks, a stray tear trickling down her eyes that shimmered, "You're really here." She whispered, her voice cracking almost to a fault. Her voice was fragile, it crushed you. "Why, how? What, I don't under—"

You smiled softly, chuckling even, you didn't expect it to go this way. "That's not part of the script, Wednesday." You joked, even if it was a serious moment, you always seemed to have one.

"You're not part of the script, why are you here!?"

You reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from Jenna's fringe as Wednesday, your touch gentle and reassuring like it never changed over the years. It was still there, your love was still there, and you were waiting for your lover to come back once in your arms to show how much you missed her oh so dearly.

"I missed you." You simply said, slightly swaying the both of you back and forth

Jenna couldn't say anything, let alone form a few words, but the way she hugged you yet again after a few seconds of silence with such tenderness and compassion, it said everything that you needed to know.

Everything that you lost and you hold today, nothing mattered. Not even the heart that wouldn't stop beating against your chest, it wouldn't matter if you died, atleast it was in her arms.

"So I don't get to have an I miss you back?"

Jenna pulled back slightly, you can see how her eyes glistened looking if it was something that not even renaissance artists could sclupt.

"You don't know how many nights I've spent crying because of how I missed you." She mumbled, voice below a whisper, her mouth hung open from her slight crying, taking a deep breath as she let herself be in the most vulnerable state with you yet.

"You cried?"

"Without you? Terribly so."

Your heart ached when Jenna started to cry, she looked small. Smaller than ever in your arms when you once held her for the first time when she became a busy actress.

She broke down, almost melting in your presence as you try to hold her up. You knew there were cameras rolling, that there were people on set watching this go down, but you knew that you were the only one witnessing her vulnerable state, no matter how many people would see right through her.

You reached up to gently wipe away the tears that streaked down her cheeks, her freckles being in view, something that you missed so dearly, your touch light and tender as you held her—your world—in your hands.

"I wish I could've been there for you," you regretted, "I wish I was there every night, to wipe away the inevitable tears that would grace your face, to hold you in my arms every night.

Jenna shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips, "all that matters is that you're here with me." She chuckled. "Why are you here?"

"Booking a small plane ticket from New York to here was the smallest price to pay for the chance to hold you in my arms once again."

"You know those are expensive, y/n," she scolded you, yet her tone was playful. "How long are you planning to stay?"

You hummed, a grin curling on your lips, "As long as you want me to be here," you replied, "I can't go back when I don't have a return ticket."

Jenna leaned into your touch, her eyes closing as she savored the warmth of your embrace, she didn't know how much she took advantage of this until now. She was afraid you'll be leaving soon, even with all assurances, everything you'll be giving her wouldn't be enough to ease her fears of you departing from her soul once more.

"I love you, y/n. Too much."

"I love you too, Jenna. You know I was only a flight away."

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Y: i heard your voicemails, by the way. J: i sent voicemails?

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a/n: sorry if this request was so so so late!! i still have more requests in my inbox and they'll probably be delayed for a couple of days or maybe even weeks because of exams. buttt ill try to post as much as i can with requests and super sorry in advance to those who requested! ill be updating future posts in my masterlists

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x female reader #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega

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redroses07 · 1 year

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Meeting His Family//Georgie Cooper

Georgie Cooper x Fem!reader

Summary: Reader and Georgie are dating and she is meeting his family for the first time! this takes place some time around season five.

Content warning: literally nothing...a little spice at the end ig? Use of the word Y/N.

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Okay...so I know this is different from my usual content but there are no good Georgie fics! So, naturally, I had to change that. As always, there's lots of fluff. Hope y'all enjoy, and happy Thanksgiving!! Lots of love 💖

You stared intently at your dresser drawer, it was overflowing with clothes, and yet you still had nothing to wear. Meeting your boyfriend's family was stressful enough, and making a good first impression was mandatory. Should you dress casually? It was just dinner at their home after all, but you didn't want to seem careless.

You looked at the clock, it read 5:10. Your boyfriend, Georgie, was supposed to pick you up at 5:30 so you had to decide quickly.

You sighed and reached for a navy blue flowered sundress with buttons down the front. After changing into the dress you brushed your, and applied natural makeup. You heard your doorbell ring and assumed that your boyfriend had arrived.

You took one last look in the mirror, fixing a few strands of your hair. You slipped your feet into your black converse, and rushed down the stairs.

you quickly opened the door, finding your Georgie leaning against the frame with a smug smile on his face. He was wearing a dark red sweatshirt and baggy jeans. His hair was pushed back and styled perfectly, as always.

"You ready to go sweetheart?" He said with his thick southern accent. He gestured for you to take his hand, and you obliged. He pulled you down the porch steps and led you to his green mustang, his car that he loved almost as much as you. He stopped to open the car door for you.

"Ladies first." Georgie said, winking at you. You felt your cheeks turn red, and butterflies came alive in your stomach.

You jumped in the car and strapped yourself in, Gerogie hopping in the driver's seat a few moments later.

"My god I'm nervous." you say, fidgeting with your hands. Gerogie reached over and intertwined one of his hands with yours, and left the other on the steering wheel.

"Don't worry, they're gonna love you." He assured you, rubbing his thumb across your palm. His hands were warm, a strong contrast to yours which were always freezing cold. They were also rough and calloused, due to the frequent car repairs he did.

"Also...just to give you a heads up my brother Sheldon is a little well...you'll see." Georgie explained.

"Ummm...Okay?" you replied, slightly confused.

Georgie turned onto the street where he lived. You recognized it because you had been to the coopers before, considering Gerogie lived in their garage, but you had always managed to avoid his family. It wasn't until last night when Georgie finally gave in to his parents' demands and let you meet them.

He pulled into the driveway and parked the car. You unfastened your seat belt and exited the car, you were even more nervous than when you left your house.

Georgie took notice of your anxious behavior and turned to face you, taking both of your hands in his.

"Darlin' how many times do I have to tell you there is nothing to be nervous about." he exclaimed.

You smiled at him and looked down at the pavement. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, giving you a quick hug. You pressed your face against his chest and inhaled the scent of freshly chopped wood and cheap cologne.

He squeezed your hand lightly before opening the door to his home.

"We're here y'all." Georgie shouted. It was a small, but cute home with floral wallpaper and a cozy living space. The smell of spaghetti, which is what you assumed they were making for dinner, wafted through the house, and was that hot dogs?

A woman wearing a pale pink dress with a warm smile appeared around the corner. You assumed this was Georgie's mom.

"Well hi, you must be Y/N" She said happily. She had the same accent as Georgie.

"It's nice to meet you Mrs. Cooper." You smiled, trying your best to seem polite.

"No need to be so formal, call me Mary." She exclaimed before turning to face Georgie, whose hand was still holding yours.

"Why don't you two go sit over on the couch while I finish making supper." Mary suggested. gesturing towards the living room.

"Fine by me." Georgie said, pulling you away from his mom.

You sat next to Georgie on the couch, and he draped an arm over your shoulders.

"See, not as bad as you thought, is it?" Georgie said softly.

"No," you replied, blushing.

A boy about thirteen years of age entered the room, giving you a look of disgust. He was wearing dress pants, and a button down shirt, and he looked like he wanted to attack you.

"Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?" He said, glaring harshly.

"Hey, I'm-" You began, but Georgie cut you off.

"Don't be rude Sheldon, leave us alone." He snapped, and the boy rolled his eyes before grumpily walking into the kitchen.

"Sorry about him," Georgie said. You laughed, understanding how annoying little siblings can be.

The two of you continued to chat quietly, while waiting for dinner to finish. You rested your head on Georgie's shoulder while he twirled strands of your hair between his fingers.

You were nowhere near as nervous as you had been upon arrival. You hadn't been in Georgie's home long, but there was something oddly welcoming about it.

"Dinner's ready!" You heard Mary call from the kitchen.

You stood up quickly, smoothing your dress as you did so. When you entered the dining room you noticed seven chairs placed around the table. Mary sat next to a younger girl who had to be Gerogie's little sister Missy. Next to Mary, at the head of the table, was Gerogie's father.

If you were being honest, he was the one you were the most nervous about meeting. Of course you had seen him around school before, since he was the football coach, but you had never spoken to him personally. Across from him was an older woman with vibrant painted nails and a fancy hairdo. Sheldon sat on the opposite side of the table, was he wearing mittens?

After everyone was seated, the family joined hands and said grace. Everyone then served themselves a plate full of spaghetti with hot dogs. It was definitely an odd choice of a meal, but you were willing to give it a try.

You sat in the empty chair next to Georgie, and across from Missy. You smiled at her as she eyed you suspiciously.

"I'm Missy, nice to meet you" She greeted.

"Hi-" you began before she interrupted.

"Oh, I know who you are, in fact I know a lot about you, Georgie talks about you a lot." Missy said with a sly smile.

You turned to look at Georgie, whose cheeks had turned a bright shade of scarlet.

"Do you now?" you giggled, looking him up and down.

You saw Missy snickering out of the corner of your eye, which made the situation even funny.

"Now Missy, why don't we let Georgie keep his dignity." Said the older woman.

"I'm Connie, Georgie's grandmother" she said, as she turned to face you.

You proceeded to introduce yourself and continued to talk with Connie, who you had decided was your favorite member of the cooper family. Well, other than Georgie of course.

"Connie, are you going to give me a chance to talk to the girl?" Georgie's father exclaimed.

"She's all yours George." Connie replied, shooting me a look of annoyance.

You turned to the man, who held a half empty beer in his left hand. The two of you introduced yourselves awkwardly and failed to hold a conversation, creating an uncomfortably long silence.

Other than that, dinner went relatively smoothly. The family was extremely kind and genuine, well except for Sheldon. But you were sure you would get used to him.

After eating, you offered to help Mrs, Cooper clean up dinner, but she insisted that she didn't need it.

"Well, this has been nice, but I think we're going to head out to the garage now." Georgie announced.

You made sure to thank everyone before heading out the door, taking a breath of relief as you did.

"So, what do you think?" Georgie said laughing lightly.

He shut the garage door and turned to face you, a small smile spread across his lips.

"They're actually really great...I could get used to being around here more often." you exclaimed.

Georgie stared at you intently, his misty blue eyes pouring into yours.

"What?" you asked, blushing intensely. You felt your heartbeat increase rapidly, it always did when he gave you that look.

Georgie began slowly walking towards you, stopping only when there was less than an inch of space between the two of you. He placed his index finger under your chin and lifted it.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about how lucky I am to be in love with you." He whispered as he cupped your cheek, and leaned in to close the gap between the two of you.

He kissed you roughly, like he had been waiting all night for this moment. Come to think of it, he probably had.

Georgie let out several soft moans as the kiss continued. He began to move forward, slowly backing you up to the bed. Once you reached it, you happily flopped down on the mattress. Georgie relocated his lips to your collarbone, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

He slid his right hand under you, clutching your waist. His left hand still cupped your cheek, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your skin. His touch was ghostly, your skin tingling everywhere he went.

Georgie hovered above you, those beautiful blue eyes admiring you once more.

"Maybe...you should...stay the night." He said between breaths.

Your heart skipped a beat, this was new, but you weren't about to turn the offer down.

"I think...maybe you're right." you replied, before grabbing his face and pulling him into another kiss.

#georgie cooper #georgie cooper imagine #georgie cooper x reader #young sheldon #young sheldon season 6 #young sheldon x reader #montana jordan #the big bang theory #sheldon cooper

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astralnymphh · 5 months

Text

ROBINS EGG BLUE

⤹ . moments with domestic!ellie x pregnant!reader

WC; 1.07k

⤹ . content; fluff, lovey–dovey, may cause baby fever or heartwarmed tears to swell, reader discretion is advised ౨ৎ

pregnancy is infuriating as not being able to comb your hair thoroughly. there is always a fat fucking knot to stem the fluid moment thereof– just as there lies a fat, fleshy boulder fastened to your stomach for a gruelingly long nine months. the bulge of your belly button has witnessed most of three seasons, and you weren't buoyantly idling around for the fourth to appear. this baby– this little devil, needs to get the hell out of dodge.

from the chagrin of a pair of jeans failing to button at the hips, straining the seams as you pull that fly parallel to your mother yanking the poor hairs from your scalp with a paddle brush– to the fleeting aggro nearby popping a blood vessel you feel when arguing with your wife, ellie, about some nonsensical, fruitless or futile dispute about what wallpaper pattern best suits the small dimensions of the nursey– pink and pearl striped with roses or robins egg blue and beige striped with roses, ellie continuously states "they're basically the same baby, i don't see what all the fuss is about." or whether ellie should throw in a batch of dino nuggets or regular nuggets cause the taste totally isn't the same, the shape definitely impacts how salty it is to your tongue, illogical banters.

but ellie will still be your loving, selfless, fond, and doting wife. your number one. apple of your eye. stupid auburn–haired heartthrob. you name it. through thick and thin of your expanding belly, she will always be the first palm to greet your baby in the morning, plastering her blanket–hot hand just beneath your navel and pressing her sweat damp fingerprints dimpling into your stomach, bending her index lightly into the petunia purple stretchmarks that vertically dip into your hips, waiting for minutes in the virgin sun morning for your baby to kick. literally, she has abandoned her old forenoon routine just to feel that first thump on her hand. and when it finally does happen, a little pounce vibrating beneath her palm lines– her fingers twitch lightly and a smile immediately crafts upon her rose lips, purring excitedly upon the fringe of your ear, words that only your snoozing brain with hark, "huh, see? he knows who his mama is– told ya."

but, ahh, stretchmarks.

she adores those little lightning marks lacing your belly– you on the other hand, thought the contrary, to which that husky fry would remind you, "ts' cause y'gotta baby growing in there, yeah? ours." flowing past the pouty berry lips so adamant on plowing kisses to the span of your scruff, ghosting them dry over the fine threadlike hairs with a pitched promise to never let you– or your belly go.

or, goddess, that one time ellie insisted you sit on the couch while she played her acoustic guitar, denting her fingertips with the strings as she plucks, subtly leaning the bay oak instrument closer to your belly so the baby would pick up those hollowed notes vibrating through the air. the fattest smirk would mushroom those cheeks to hug her nose– grooving those nasal lines to encase the thin curve of a smile, deepening at the corners. you even recall the dorkiest shit ever, how it carried to your ears out of the blue and left you pinching brow lines of amusement, "gonna' play this lil' guy guitar everyday– hey, d'ya think if i do that, he'll come out already knowing how to play?" spoken on a smokey chord, glancing up at you through lashes slightly downturned due to her facing the belly, directly. you told her with a sigh, "ellie, that is not how it works." dumbly smirking back, and she replied, "what? c'mon, maybe if i play electric, he'll be born a rockstar!" squeezing her voice with silly enthusiasm. a roll of your head cracks your neck, dangling back to barb, "you are ten times the idiot than you were yesterday." cause, well, she's constantly spewing the dopiest ideas. next thing you knew, she was rasping, "m'your fuckin' idiot." that cheesy motherfucker, slinking her guitar off the round of her thigh and stowing it at the sofa's footing, lurking forward on all fours to tackle your belly with bespattering kisses, moist and fiendish as ever.

infuriating was the task of putting socks on. fucking socks. the effortless effort that would usually clock you under ten seconds, moreso felt like ten eons. "ughh!" you would grunt from the depths of your compact lungs, extending two zombie arms over the blockage of your portly belly, perking the ears of ellie who was just in the abutting room, walls thin enough to bombard with sound. she whips around the door trim, leaning her lank weight away from it and cocking her head, distinguishing the predicament you had landed two feet in. a dry chuckle sounds from yonder the room, trailed by her honeyed resound, "need sum' help babe?" which, to her, falls to strike as a question– au contraire, soft, padded footsteps of feet who already had socks on, lucky them, carries ellie over and at your side, crouching with her knees splayed apart like bird's wings, raising hands to politely creep fingers under yours, prying the cottony ball from your grasp and craning it to her chest, sidling in her squat so that she would be an eyeshot vis–à–vis to you, at your beckon practically.

you remained silent, doused in the soft moment before you, yet a little embarrassed you couldn't do it yourself. a raspy, "here's one.." croaks from her throat prior to a hand cupping the ribbed underside of your ankle, tamping it gently into her chest so she could unfurl the sock and roll it up your foot, hedging your toes first with the linty fabric and laying it up the heel, letting the band snap in place– and her fingertips lingered at the ankle, caressing the nub for only a twinkle in time. "and the second one.." she scoops up the other foot, repeating the same tedious tenderness she gave to your other, gliding her hand from your ankle to your knee as she stood up, plating a pressure to the top of your thigh as she leans in, lips first, uttering, "there you go," smacking a puckered kiss to your stagnant lips, whispering upon them, "m'comin' to the bathroom with you. wanna hold him for a bit."

not even wild wolves could tear ellie from your baby, her baby.

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rustedhearts · 6 months

Text

blue christmas (boxer!steve harrington x fem!librarian reader)

summary: it's christmas time, and your boyfriend's traveling the country kicking ass. will he make it home in time—or will you be spending christmas alone?

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the king of the ring (1989) ✶ christmas carols ✶ main masterlist

tags: christmas!; descriptors for libby's friends but of course, not libby; kinda hurt/comfort (she's just a sad girl!); fluff; alcohol consumption; nothing major.

"i'll have a blue christmas without you. i'll be so blue just thinking about you. decorations of red on a green christmas tree, won't be the same dear, if you're not here with me."

— blue christmas, elvis presley

hawkins, indiana. december 1989.

“I can’t believe you won’t be here.”

The ribboned rubber of the telephone cord curled around your finger. You pouted at the flowered fabric of your bedspread, imagining Steve in a little Christmas sweater he’d never wear—but he’d be here. Cozy, warm, big and bulky under layers of cable-knit.

Christmas was in three days, and your boyfriend wouldn’t even be here.

“I know, angel,” Steve sighed through the phone. “‘m sorry. I wish I could."

And he does. It's your first holiday season together—your first winter full of fluffy white snow, and cold afternoons that make you want to curl up and sleep the days away. It was the season of love and affection; the time of the year meant for nuzzling noses and burying in coats for warmth.

You imagined so many times what the holiday season would look like if Steve were here to stroll through the town square holding your mittened hand. He'd come up for weekends—twice since the beginning of November—but it was never long enough. He'd get in Friday night, and have to leave Sunday morning. You never got to sleep in and feign domestic bliss, tangled in his sheets in the white, early light.

Too many times, Steve kissed your head in a half sleep and whispered his goodbye; a note on his pillow where his head was supposed to be.

Angel,

I'll miss you more than ever.

—Steve

"Me too," you mumbled, pout evident in the huff and puff of your quiet words. You let your chin fall to your arm propped on the edge of your bed, glaring ahead at your wallpaper.

The house fogged with warmth from a home-cooked meal roasting in the oven downstairs. Your mother had a jazzy Christmas tune pipping from the stereo on the counter. Your father—last you checked forty minutes ago—was reading the paper in his armchair beneath the yellow lamplight of the living room. Your brother was somewhere up the street getting into trouble with his friends, driven to boredom without school to keep them busy. You had a Christmas party to attend tomorrow night, and you still hadn't picked an outfit, or wrapped your Secret Santa gift.

"Baby," Steve sighed. "C'mon, don't...don't make me feel bad."

You rolled onto your back. "I'm not, I'm not...I'm sorry."

Commotion clattered behind Steve—hotel doors opening and closing, voices muttering. The bed springs squeaked with his shifting. Your chest ached and squeezed with what you already knew was coming.

"I gotta go, angel...I'll call you later, alright? Be good f' me?"

You pinched your eyes shut, willing the stinging to stop. You nodded without words a moment, and then heard the buzz of his waiting. "Okay...love you."

"Love you too, baby. Bye."

"Blue Christmas" spun on Lisa's turn table in the sunken den of her parent's basement living room. Still stuck in 1975 and decorated by her mother for the sole purpose of hosting cocktail parties, it was the perfect place for Lisa to hold her first "adult" holiday party: pink shag carpet, silver-tinseled Christmas tree, pastel wrapping and perfect bows, and geometric decor of diamonds and stars on the wood-paneled wall.

Lisa, Holly, Tammy (and even yourself) dressed in their best getups, hair and makeup perfected for Polaroids. They already snapped enough to cover the end table, and in every single one, your smile never met your eyes. You were too concerned with ruining Lisa's highly-anticipated party to be a drag, but the lack of Steve really weighed on you.

"Oh, honey," Holly sighed, padding her way over to you. She flopped onto the sofa beside you, arm wrapped around your shoulders. "You miss him real bad, huh?"

You sighed, head falling onto her arm. "That obvious?"

She sipped her (fourth) cocktail—something red and fruity and rimmed with crushed candy cane. "You haven't spoken a word in thirty minutes. It was just a hunch."

"I thought he'd at least...try to be here. I mean, he doesn't have a fight until next week. He could fly back and forth—but maybe that's...not right of me to ask that."

Holly hummed, setting her coupe glass on the Polaroid table. She turned to you, blonde hair neatly curled and pinned on either side, and pursed her glossy mouth.

"It's not too much to ask, hun. If he wanted to be here, he'd be here. He said he loves you, then he wouldn't miss your first Christmas together."

You peered at her, wondering if this were true. From their place near the tree, arranging gifts and flicking through Elvis albums, Lisa and Tammy looked up.

"Oh, that's not true!" Tammy squawked. "He's just busy. They're talkin' about him all the way in New York now."

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, stomach twisting. "They are?"

If Steve were truly gaining popularity across the east coast, you had more than just a missed Christmas to worry about. You sensed its arrival—his fame and popularity. Steve was up and coming, and he had an aggression not many fighters had these days. He had the drive, the passion, the determination. You saw it all in his eyes. You knew he wouldn't stop until he was the best, and he wasn't afraid to make the sacrifices necessary to be just that.

And maybe it was selfish of you to want him all to yourself—but you've never felt this way about anyone before. Steve was everything.

"Oh, Libby," Lisa cooed, hurriedly rushing your way. Tammy followed, and soon they were all surrounding you, perched on the sofa and the coffee table.

"It'll be okay! He loves you, it's so obvious. You just have to realize...maybe his career will always come first. You just have to find a way to be okay with that," Lisa offered meekly.

You nodded, but only because your tongue felt like lead in your mouth. The girls glanced at each other momentarily, and then Holly stood in a flash of sparkly, bubblegum pink and glitter.

"Well, to hell with Steve! Let's get drunk and open presents."

The glasses drained themselves, really. The records spun and scratched, the pretty, gilded wrapping paper shred to pieces, and the girls in the den soon became nothing but giggling messes. When you got bored of the music, you turned to the television, turning the knob until you reached a fuzzy, pixelated picture of It's A Wonderful Life, though the static-y voices fell on deaf ears.

"Oh, it's darling, Libby, really," Holly gushed, holding up the pink satin slip you gifted her for Christmas.

Holly was easiest to shop for—she'd be pleased with anything pink, soft, and fancy.

"I'm glad you—hic!—like it. And I love my book, Tammy. It's so beautiful."

The book, a cloth-bound classic, was wine-colored and gorgeous. It was so pretty you didn't even want to put it on the shelf. It would sit on your dresser for a little while to look at.

Lisa gave Tammy a pair of red Mary Janes, and Holly gave Lisa a new set of hot rollers. The remains of the wrapping paper sat in bits and pieces around you on the carpet, and you had to shoo away Lisa's cocker spaniel, Lady, before she ate it all. She trudged into your lap, shedding soft hair over your dress as you stroked her long, floppy ears, watching the pink-flushed faces of your friends through the glowing white light of the Christmas tree.

Despite Steve's absence, you were happy. You had your friends.

The giggles faded when the doorbell rang through the house. Lisa waved it off, peering up the steps of the den toward the first floor. "Probably just a caroler. Ignore it."

But the doorbell rang again. Lisa huffed, and Tammy and Holly giggled as she fumbled up the steps. In her absence, they turned to you, all gushing over each other's presents and asking after more cocktails. They kissed at Lady in your lap and tossed popcorn at her waiting mouth, and you fell in line with the amusement until Lisa's socked feet came flapping into the room.

"Libby, Steve's here."

You weren't sure you heard her right. The giggles dwindled again, and your hand stilled over Lady's head in a half-stroke. Your heart was in your mouth, pulsing dumbly.

"W-what?"

Lisa, out of breath and wide-eyed, had her hands on her hips with an ecstatic smile. "He's here. Steve, he's here—he's waiting outside."

"Well, for God's sake, Lisa, why didn't you invite him in?" Tammy chimed in.

Lisa shot her a glare. "He said he'd wait outside for her! Probably heard your cackling and got too scared to come in."

Holly soothed your friend's sting with a half-hug around Tammy's shoulders, but you were still numb. You carefully scooped Lady up and placed her on the floor, away from the wrapping paper. You pushed to your feet, smoothing down the skirt of your dress. You put your book on the sofa, and turned to your friends still on the floor.

"Do I...do I look alright?"

"Gorgeous, babe," Holly beamed. "Let me just..."

She stood, reaching up to fix your hair. She fluffed it, poofed it, found your purse on a hook near the door and spritzed your perfume at the crown of your head, and under your ears. She handed you your lipgloss and a mirror, and when you were content with the pink-eyed doeness of your appearance, you stepped toward the stairs.

"Go, go!" Lisa ushered you, giving you a nudge.

You steadied yourself on the wall, steps careful and cautious. Those drinks made you a little woozy, but nothing felt as fuzzy as the thought of Steve waiting for you in the snow. He came all the way here, for you. Your cheeks warmed at the very thought. Your stomach crawled its way up to your throat.

You made your way through the house, taking one last glance in the nearest mirror, before pulling open the door.

A cold rush immediately burst into the house, but any thought of shivering fled your mind at the sight of Steve looming before your eyes. Brown leather coat, black sweater, Levi jeans tight at the hips and loose at the calves. He had his hands cupped around his mouth, blowing hot, white air into his palms—but at the sound of your steps, at the scent of you, he stopped.

All you could do, for just a moment, was stare. Three long weeks since you last saw him—those perfect, round hazel eyes, those high, rosy cheeks. The tip of his nose was wind-nipped pink, the tops of his ears blown red. He smelled like vetiver and leather cologne, and he looked beautiful.

"Oh, Steve."

You crashed into his chest, arms wound tight around his stomach. He enveloped you in his own, holding you as close as he could; and the warmth of him immediately melded with yours. You buried your nose into his chest and hummed, eyes pinched shut just to hold onto this. This moment, this scene, this feeling of him so close after so long apart. You didn't want to let go.

"Merry Christmas, angel," he whispered, and then his mouth sat atop your head, pressing it into a kiss.

When the cold got unbearable, you pulled Steve inside. Fingers intertwined and cheeks sore with grinning, you skipped your way back down to the den where your friends feigned innocence despite their heaving breaths.

"Well look who's here," Holly cooed, watching you tug Steve down the steps.

You giggled, tipping into his side, one foot coming to kick up giddily. You felt like a schoolgirl with her very first crush. That's how love should always be, right?

"Steve, you know everyone. This is Lisa, Holly, and Tammy. Girls, this is Steve."

Your friends waggled their fingers in bashful little waves, and Steve lifted a wide palm in hello. You could smell the Marlboros on his coat, see the outline of a new pack in the front of his pocket. His hands were starting to warm up against your own.

"And this is Lady," you cooed, watching the cocker spaniel sniff at Steve's boots.

You dipped down and scooped her up, bringing her up against your chest to wave a tiny paw at Steve. He cracked a sideways smile, reaching out to scratch at her chin. You let her scamper back over toward the girls by the tree, and turned to Steve with your fingers looped together behind your back.

You could barely contain the giddy glee flooding through your body. Steve noticed. He nicked you under the chin with a gentle knuckle, and another small kiss placed on your sticky mouth.

"You girls been drinkin'?" he gruffed, thumb pressing on your bottom lip.

You shrugged. "A little. It's Christmas, Steve."

He hummed, eyeing the dazzled, feminine setup of the room. A mess of pretty paper, tinsel knocked astray, empty coupe glasses and picked-at pigs-in-a-blanket and bowls of snacks, a dog sniffing around for scraps and attention—harmless, he decided. Maybe even sweet.

As if waiting for his approval, and recognizing the submission, Steve turned back to you with a small smile. "Okay."

You took him by the hand again, tugging him toward the tree. "Come on."

But Steve paused, tugging you with just the resistance of his solid stance, snapping back like a rubber-band.

"Wait, honey..." You turned to him, and he reached into the lining of his coat. "Got somethin' for you."

He pulled out a slim, black velvet box. You pressed your lips into a smile and huddled close.

"But, Steve...yours is at home—"

"—shh. Just open it."

You were acutely aware of your friends craning to see over your shoulder from their place on the floor, petting mindlessly at Lady and munching at shortbread. But in this moment, it was just you and Steve. And he watched you intently once he handed over the box, gnawing at his own lip. God, he wanted a smoke. He just wanted you to love it.

You pushed the box open, hinges snapping back to reveal a navy blue satin lining, and a gorgeous golden locket strung inside. An "S" sat etched on the center of an intricately engraved heart, adorned with swirling roses on a delicate chain.

"Oh, Steve." It was all you seemed to be able to say today.

"D' you like it?" he asked, voice edged with worry.

You fingered at the locket, feeling the cool metal. "I love it, Steve. It's gorgeous."

He exhaled. "Good. Lemme put it on."

With fingers too big for such delicate things, he plucked the necklace from its box and pulled the clasp open. You spun around, moving your hair out of the way for his hands. With your back to him, you could properly convey your excitement to your friends, who mirrored your beaming grin with equal delight.

The locket rested perfectly in the center of your chest, and once clasped, you felt it against your skin with your palm.

"Thank you, Steve. I love it so much."

Steve, hands braced on your shoulders, tipped his head and kissed your cheek. "Anything, angel. It's all yours."

Lisa snapped the head of a gingerbread-man cookie off with her teeth, and Holly cooed. Tammy busied herself with the dog.

But you had a band of butterflies in your stomach and a drum line in your chest, and you turned to look up at Steve with nothing but adoration.

"Look inside." He nudged his nose toward the locket again.

Wedging a nail between the hinges, you popped the heart open. A crudely-cut picture of yourself and Steve—so minuscule it would be difficult to discern from a blob if you hadn't recognized the very moment captured in time—sat in a black and white fashion in the heart.

Another smile at Steve, loving and sweet. "Who knew you were so romantic, Steve Harrington?"

He tucked his bruised fists into his coat pockets and shrugged. "I try."

Steve had hours before he had to leave and a plane ticket burning a hole in his back pocket—but it was Christmas, and he'd do anything, even blow off his coach and a team full of people, if it meant seeing your pretty face.

"Merry Christmas, angel."

The softest of kisses shared between warm mouths. Strawberry-cigarette smooches were what life was all about.

"Merry Christmas, Steve."

#rolly!#boxer!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington au #steve the hair harrington #stranger things fic #stranger things au #steve stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #boxer!steve

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yan-lorkai · 7 months

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Hii, Lorks ~

Had see that your writing for my favorie earl now, have any hcs for older sibling reader and young brother Ciel? Sorry about bad english, is not my first language

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Been busy with uni stuff but nothing couldn't stop me from writing this now that inspiration strikes me and since we're having a new season I began to reread the manga these past few days and wow, I still love this lil dude. Look at his smiled he knows he's adorable. The Green Witch arc remains my favorite <3

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warning: Yandere content, platonic yandere, protectiveness.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ You were a few years older than the twins, but you were very close to them as well as being a constant figure for them as they grew up. You were what they would describe as the best sibling in the world, even though you liked to make fun of them and make jokes that embarrassed them in front of people, like any good old sibling would do.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ When you had free time, you enjoyed teaching them chess and other logic games, loving the way the expressions on their faces were confusing whenever you used a different strategy. These were simple times when the whole family would get together to watch you play while everyone chatted. Times that were lost after the attack, all the joy, all the warmth, that mixed with the sad blue of the wallpaper until it turned the entire mansion into something cold.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ciel came back, lost, deeply hurt, and you were the only person he told what happened. The whole kidnapping and the cult, and it broke your heart, your brilliant little brother was an unresponsive blank as he recounted the facts, as if he didn't want to realize the impact that that event had on him. As if he was still on autopilot and couldn't let his guard down. And things were worse now that he had lost his twin brother, who he was as attached to as you were.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ But you were there to support him every step of the way, holding his hand after a nightmare, wiping the rare tears from his eyes, listening to everything he had to say. Ciel's stubborn and prideful, he never asks for help but he has this serene smile on his face when you go out of your way to help him anyway. You knew he was strong for withstanding all the pressure, for enduring everything he went through and for having the strength necessary to overcome everything, and you reminded him of that in each of his "weak moments". It reminded him that he was loved and that you would always be by his side.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He's still twelve, he's still a child, and you're always telling him stories to sleep and taking him out to take his mind off his trauma. Sometimes you just sit next to him and listen to him express his thoughts.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ciel can be a little overprotective sometimes, which is funny considering you should be the overprotective one due to the age difference. He always sends Sebastian with you on your errands, to protect you from some attack or someone. And you don't complain, his intentions are good and you can understand the anxiety he feels upon knowing that those responsible for the attack are free and alive.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Being a few years older, you know a lot about balls, about every important person and how to negotiate with them. And you teach each of these things to Ciel when he decides to claim the title of Queen's Watchdog, giving advice and sharing your opinion whenever he asks you, being by his side as his left hand.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ And being his left hand means that you and Sebastian interact on a daily basis, protecting Ciel, going on missions together, collecting information and the such.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ In private, when your masks can finally fall, you call him by his real name, hug him lightly and let him know that no matter what, you'll be there for him. Always.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ciel actually told you everything, everything except that he made a contract with a demon. He hopes you can forgive him when the contract is completed, when he and his soul disappear from this world, without any chance of seeing you one last time in the so-called paradise.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Even after your death, Ciel might remember the loving way you sat in the chair next to his bed when he was sick and took care of him. He will remember the silly promises you made, the bad jokes you told him to make him laugh until his stomach hurt, the little adventures to steal cookies on Christmas morning. Things too precious for him.

#yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere black butler #yandere ciel phantomhive #yandere ciel #yandere ciel x reader #yandere ciel phantomhive x reader #platonic yandere #ciel x reader #ciel phantomhive x reader

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starbylers · 8 months

Text

Rambling about things that’ve been said a million times but like…character’s final scenes in each season foreshadow what will be going on with them in the next season right? We’ve seen this. So by that logic we literally know what’s going to happen in s5. (In terms of character’s journeys, not talking about plot). Like we know for certain. They’re barely even theories to me anymore it’s just canon waiting to happen 😭. A huge amount of my Byler confidence comes from this tbh so if you need a little boost maybe this will help.

Dustin’s scene shows he is going to be grieving Eddie (we’ve already had confirmation of this I think so we know the pattern follows for s4 that final scenes are foreshadowing)

Lucas’ scene shows he will obviously be doing everything possible to care for and help Max

El’s scene shows she’s going to be focused on 1) saving Max & defeating Henry and 2) her family and having the support of her dad back

Caleb literally mentioned that Lucas & El’s relationship will be explored and we know Max is the thing that ties them together (the boyfriend and the best friend) so that’s another piece of evidence of s4 final scenes being foreshadowing

So it has to follow that Will & Mike’s scene shows they are definitely going to be working as a team

And if we take symbolism into account…

Their final one-on-one in s3 lingered on a shot of a blue telephone on yellow wallpaper & we know all about their s4 communication issues so yeah we’re absolutely taking symbolism into account

…that red flipped couch? They’re going to be in the upside down. Together. In the season where Will is going to have an emotional arc which will ‘tie the entire series together’. (Although even if the couch stuff was somehow incorrect the team part still stands).

To me the chances of M*leven being endgame in this scenario are so tiny they’re almost nonexistent? If next season was about showing how strong of a couple and how in love they are (which is basically the only place their story could really go atp if the intention was for them to be endgame), they would’ve had their final scene together! El would be sitting in Will’s place on the couch! Mike would be reaching into the light and grabbing El’s shoulder, symbolising that he’s choosing her.

The meaning behind this shot is so clear it’s almost funny like it literally looks like some magical celestial beam of light from heaven is shining down on where they’re connected

They wouldn’t be spending the season with their stories primarily focused on & tied to other people (“other people” being Mike’s literal other love interest!!!) if the show was trying to tell a story of them being this alleged central power couple working together and growing together in a loving, healthy, mature, supportive relationship. It’s completely illogical.

I feel like it’s so obvious that Mike and Will are at least going to be working together next season, and it’s incredibly weird to me that people even try and argue us on that point. Is it denial? Is it the fact that deep down, they are actually aware of how foreshadowing and logical story structure work and they’re scared that if they admit Mike and Will are going to be paired up, they’ll have to admit where the story is inevitably leading…?

#byler #anti mileven #and I’m sure it’s not just the Byler scene that involves symbolism I mean the story Lucas was reading Max is definitely an Easter egg #I haven’t looked into it but someone on here must have #and then there’s the final scene obviously #this isn’t a super thoughtful analysis sorry I have a bunch of stuff in drafts I’m just too tired to work on it atm 😭

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mistydeyes · 10 months

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eyes for the stars

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summary: The 141 boys can't help but feel slightly jealous about your celebrity crush. They can't help but wonder why you're so obsessed with them.

pairing: 141 x civvie! Reader

warnings: swearing, spoilers for Euphoria!

a/n: a little self indulgent because i too have all of these crushes (love my problematic ladies, sydney and phoebe <;3)

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price: pedro pascal

The minute you laid eyes on him you were hooked. From episode 1 of The Last of Us, Pedro became your very apparent celebrity crush. Who doesn’t love a strong parental figure who will do anything for his unconventional child?

Ever the observer, Price noticed how your Instagram stories were filled with reposts of Pedro at award shows, magazine covers, and even behind-the-shoot pictures. He even noticed the growing collection in your shared home of Mandalorian memorabilia. He couldn't help but feel hurt that his partner posted a celebrity more than him.

As Gaz looked over his shoulder he commented, "Looks like a more handsome version of you, Sir." "Get back to work, Sergeant" Price commanded, before shoving his phone back in his pocket. He couldn't believe that this was getting to him.

“You have a type, love,” Price said as you sat watching another episode of Narcos. It was your turn to pick a show to binge and of course, you picked this one. Price secretly wished you spent his leave watching anything else. You were glued to the screen as you sat in your boyfriend’s arms. “I do not,” you argued, “you and he are so different.” You rolled your eyes and he let out a small chuckle.

“He’s an older man who is surprisingly resourceful and doesn’t let many people in until he’s given someone to protect with his life,” he began and you realized the similarities, “Plus, look at him. I might start shaving my beard and only having a mustache for you.”

As the realization hit you, you couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed at his observations. You paused the episode and held his face gently. "I'd much rather have this mustached face here with me than him," you said and shared a loving kiss.

Price was later happy to say that your stories of the man were significantly less than before. Good thing he didn't see your phone wallpaper was of the very famous Pedro Pascal edit (yk the one).

soap: sydney sweeney

You both were unapologetic about your love for the problematic blonde on Euphoria. Although you couldn't condone her rumors about Glen Powell, you couldn't help but obsess over the gorgeous woman. A new Syd’s garage TikTok? Queue you running around your house to find your boyfriend. You both religiously watched her in episodes of The Handmaid’s Tale and White Lotus. Don’t even get me started on when she appeared on the red carpet, your texts were flooded with pictures and emojis.

There was always one rule between you and Soap: don't watch any Sydney Sweeney movies or shows without the other. He instituted that rule once the new Euphoria season was predicted to come out. As he left for another mission for the 141, he kissed you and said, "No Sydney without me, promise?" As you gave him your pinky, you wouldn't realize you would be breaking that rule later on that year.

To be fair, no one could have predicted that their mission would have taken until the end of November. Also, it was technically Soap's fault for not binging the show before he was deployed. However, since the call to duty was ever present, he didn't want to start a show without knowing he could finish it. You waited until August to finally start it. You had been dying since the season ended in February and had blocked all spoilers.

The minute the show started, you knew you couldn't stop. The plot line between Nate and Cassie was just TOO GOOD. Hours later, you had finished and were ashamed of yourself. You just had to know how the drama between Maddy and Cassie ended. Logging out of your account, you tried to hide all the evidence before your boyfriend inevitably came home.

It was December when Soap returned, excited to be home with you and even more excited to start Season 2 of Euphoria. As you made you both some popcorn, you heard an ear-piercing scream from the living room. You rushed over to see what happened but Soap stood there with a shocked face. "Bonnie, why does HBO say you finished all the episodes?" he accused and you knew you were done for. "I-" you started before he interrupted. "You betrayed me, worse than Graves," he said almost as if he was crying. As you looked at him sheepishly he said in a soft voice, "Please tell me that the rumors about Cassie and Nate aren't true."

gaz: henry cavill

Who could compete with Superman? Certainly not Gaz, in fact, he would get a little jealous when you mentioned your little crush. You loved Henry Cavill specifically the DC Comic version of him, not The Witcher. Gaz regretted ever letting Soap get you into the new films.

For the past year, your boyfriend would not hear the end of your pining for the dark-haired beauty. You were non-stop, always talking about his latest interviews and always having his films on repeat. Gaz even had to stop you from putting a framed picture of Henry on your fireplace mantle. You finally agreed that Henry belonged on screen, not in a frame along with your loved ones and your boyfriend.

Gaz miraculously was home for Halloween, a first! You had been invited to a party by your friends and decided on a Cat Woman costume. Oddly enough, when you asked Gaz what he was wearing, he said he already had it covered. This was his chance to show you who the real hero was. You tried to find out the best you could (even looking through his search history) but you could not find what it was.

"Babe, can you at least tell me you're on theme?" you asked over the phone, it was a few weeks before his return and you were anxious to know his secret costume. "Trust me, love, you'll be pleasantly surprised" he answered and you audibly groaned at his mysterious tone.

“Kyle, are you ready?” you called, dressed in your Cat Woman costume. You loved Lois Lane but something about the powerful energy Selena Kyle had plus her sexy attire made you pick this instead. As you adjusted your all-black outfit in the mirror, you heard your boyfriend descend the stairs. You turned around to see him dressed in Superman’s signature costume. The costume was of surprising quality, perfectly defining your boyfriend's physique and making his butt look great.

“I heard there’s someone who needs a superhero,” he triumphantly said as he struck a pose. You smiled widely and took many pictures. “You look amazing, babe! This is just like the movies,” you said excitedly as you kissed him on the cheek. “Bought it just for you” he winked, “Gotta let you know who the real hero is.” You laughed and punched his arm lightly. “Let’s go my Lois Lane,” he said and you grabbed his hand, getting ready to face the world with your hero.

ghost: phoebe bridgers

Now Ghost isn't like the rest of the 141 boys, he won't let his jealousy get the better of him. BUT COME ON, you were in love with Phoebe Bridgers, the haunting singer of Boygenius whose grey hair glistened in the moonlight. You owned every single record of hers and constantly pined over the TikTok videos of her on Taylor Swift's tour. You even bought you and Ghost her matching sweatpants with bones on the front and her name on the butt. He wouldn't admit it but he did love her style. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little twinge of jealousy whenever Kyoto came on the radio.

While on duty, Ghost could feel his phone ring. He answered immediately, knowing you only called for emergencies. He was greeted by you screaming. "BOYGENIUS IS COMING TO LONDON WE HAVE TO GO!!" you yelled excitedly. Ghost mentally slapped himself, he would have to remind you that this line was only for major injuries or death. "Love, Boygenius is not an emergency," he said sternly before you responded, "SIMON, PHOEBE FUCKING BRIDGERS WILL BE SHARING THE SAME AIR AS US," you yelled back. Ghost was glad no one was around because he would never hear the end of it. "Calm down, I'll see what I can do," he said before reiterating his love for you and hanging up.

When Ghost returned home, you were in a deep depression. You opened the door and looked sadder than he had ever seen you. "What's wrong?" he asked, closing the door behind him and taking you into his arms. You let out a few tears as you sat on the couch together. He noted you were all decked out in one of your many Phoebe hoodies and shorts. "I wasn't able to get tickets," you sniffled, "they sold out immediately." You knew it was stupid but your heart was crushed. You would never get to see her live.

"Well good thing I know a thing or two about computers," he said before pulling out his phone to show you a confirmation email. Your eyes widened when you saw he had secured VIP tickets to meet the band and watch from the pit. "Happy anniversary, my love," he said and you were speechless for a moment. "Simon, I think I could marry you," you whispered as you hugged him tightly. "Anything for you darling," he said and kissed you. As you excitedly confirmed all the details and peeked at the set list, Ghost felt the need to poke fun at you. "Do you love her because she has a thing for skeletons too?" That earned him a light slap to the chest.

The day of the concert, you could've fainted upon meeting the band. They were all so much cooler than you could have ever imagined. As you talked Julien's and Lucy's ears off, Phoebe walked up to Ghost. "Sick mask dude, gotta get me one of those," she said in her deep, chill voice. Moments later, Ghost almost had to subdue you as you tried to force the mask off his face to give it to her.

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12-seconds-to-live · 9 months

Text

Laniel.jpg and Charlotte

Pairing: DR3 x LN4 x F1 female driver

Warnings: none, just my happiness with Daniel and Lando

NICE AIRPORT - TERMINAL 1 @15:20

"You look cute today" I stop looking to my phone to look at Lando. Well, that's new

"You say it like it's weird of me using a dress"

"It is" He smiled

"I'm gonna ignore you from now on"

"It's not common, even when we go to parties you use jeans, so, I have a point"

"The real point here is that we are in the middle of the summer and if I put a raw egg on the floor it will cook"

"But what about the jet? It's going to be cold in there"

"I have my enchanté sweater" Lando made a loud gasp "It has cute peaches and it's purple"

"I sent you a full box of my merch last month, mean"

"Cry about it, Daniel thinks that I have a pretty face so everybody is going to see me in the new enchanté collection"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I asked him months ago, even I helped with the design of one of the pieces"

"Well, congratulations. You should look who's coming" I turn my head and a very smiley Daniel Ricciardo was walking to our direction

"You knew?"

"I invited him to flight with us, I know how important you were for him these moths away from racing so I..." I interrupted him with a hug and a kiss in the cheek

"You're the best, Norris" Lando didn't expect that reaction, now he can feel his cheeks burning

I got up and run to Daniel. After Silverstone, I decided to wait for Danny's test with Pirelli. After he finished a call from Helmut Marko was all we need to know that he got the seat for the rest of the season. Even if I have a good relationship with the australian, I organized a few days off with Lando, Max, Nyck, some frineds and myself to let Nyck know that we're his friends and friends support each other.

"It's been only a week, you know?" He said laughing

"I don't care, I'm happy. These past 7 months had been like going on a rollercoaster over and over again so, you know. Even if it's AlphaTauri, you have your way back home, you never left, you just have to travel the world over in search of what you need and then return to find it"

"I know Char and thank you for everything" His eyes got glossy so I hug him "Do you like my design?" He said ponting to his sweater

"No, it is..." I gasp

"Yes, kiddo. Tommorrow a million boys are going to see you wearing the new collection"

"Ha ha, funny, you know that I have my eyes on someone"

"Someone a bit brainless. Hey Lando, I guess you were waiting for me"

"Yeah, let's go"

Once in the airplane

"I have to say that this is a very important moment and pretty faces like yours should be able to broke the internet" I said taking Lando's camera and pinting to them "New wallpapers for your fans"

They looked at each other and start with their goofiness and well... I guess they really missed each other. Maybe Carlos and I have competition.

"We are pretty good looking guys, you know?" Daniel said with a smile on his face

"Even you could use us as your wallpaper" said Lando

"Good offer but nothing can beat my photo with Tom Holland" I said with a side smile and ready to take a nap before we arrive in Budapest

"When are you gonna tell her how you feel?" asked Daniel looking at Lando

"I don't know what are you talking about" he answer looking at the mirror

"Kids, always scared of love"

DRIVE TO SURVIVE EP.4 S.6 NICE GUYS ALWAYS COME BACK

"Hello Charlotte"

"Hi Netflix, can I have some tea? I been walking around doing interviews and stuff and I couldn't finish my lunch"

"Sure, mint?"

"Yes, please" I smile to the interviewer "We can't start, I'll wait for the tea"

"Ok, what were you doing when the news drop?"

"Oh, ha ha, I was with the main character. I can do anything, even work as emotional supporter, PR, car mechanic, you know" one member of the staff approached me with the cup of tea "Thank you"

"How do you feel about this?"

I made a pause thinking and trying not to burn my lips "I think that this a great moment to tell you what happen after Abu Dabi. Well, I sign my contract with McLaren, I was feeling bad about the decision, just for Danny and I spent the night with him and his girlfriend just talking and at some point we got more serious and I just told him and without knowing about Red Bull: What is a home if not the first place you learn yo run from?"

I smiled to the camera "Then he told me about the third driver offer and I felt different, by the time he leave in 2018 I guess that he felt that he was destroying everything and he just needed to slip quietly to the back door without causing to much noise and then not stop running. And maybe that was he needed more than what he really wanted, let go the feeling of wanted to go back and remember what you once had and what you once where "

"But then I told him that it's funny that the feeling of leave home and being far away make us wander our choices but for Danny is something else. He's back home and ready to no longer remember which tale of his past is true and which is an invention. Outside he's the same on the inside he's the same kid that leave Australia looking for a dream"

"I guess he's your favourite person between the drivers" asked the producer

"No, Daniel is my brother and I know he feels the same about me"

📍Budapest

Liked by charlotterjones, daniel3.jpg and 943.501 others

landonorris We’re photographers. We’re back.

📸: @charlotterjones

user1 ARE YOU KIDDING ME. STOP THIS CUTENESS

f1mia need a landan.jpg account plz

charlotterjones This is a piece of art ❤️

landonorris including the photographer danielricciardo our favourite girl

user2 "dude we’re getting the band back together״

user3 we missed daniel button --->

I got inspired! This little story is linked with my current story called (Un)Lost

Hope you like it!

Taglist: @evans-dejong @omgsuperstarg @bibissparkles @hoely-maria @mochimommy2002 @noope306 @eugene-emt-roe @80sloverry @rens-daylight @summerslike11 @matildrry

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nayziiz · 3 months

Text

Team Dynamics | LN4

Summary: To celebrate the launch of their 2024 car for the upcoming F1 season, McLaren hosts a masquerade gala event that sees two souls connect and lead to a whirlwind romance. Unfortunately, the pair realise soon after that they are to work together quite closely after they agreed it would only be a one-night thing.

Warnings: Smut, alcohol, one night stand, unprotected sex

Pairing: Gemma (I don't like writing with Y/N or reader) x Lando Norris

Series Masterlist

PART 1

Gemma, with a noticeable waddle in her step, turns a corner, seeking refuge from the lively atmosphere that surrounds her. As she enters the quiet corridor, a sense of relief washes over her, and she releases a heartfelt sigh. The toll of the night is evident in her tired feet, which ache from hours of navigating the bustling venue, and her head throbs with the echoes of the lively event.

In the serenity of the corridor, Gemma's gaze is drawn to a lone figure at the far end. The dimly lit hallway casts a subtle glow on the scene, and she cautiously approaches the person who seems to be in a similar pursuit of solace. A young man, casually sipping from his glass of champagne, leans against the wall with a relaxed demeanour. One of his legs is pulled up to his chest, adding a nonchalant touch to his posture.

As Gemma draws closer, her footsteps echoing softly in the stillness, she notices the man's gaze lifting from his drink to meet her eyes. Despite the masks concealing their faces, a silent connection is forged as their eyes lock in mutual recognition. A subtle smile graces the young man's lips, a spontaneous reaction to Gemma's presence. However, he momentarily forgets that his mask obscures the brightness of his smile.

“You know, it bothers me too sometimes.” Gemma comments, out-of-the-blue.

“What?” Lando responds, confused by her statement.

“If you’re not supposed to eat at night, why would the refrigerator have a light in it?” Gemma explains, attempting a joke to ease the man’s tension.

“That’s, uhm, that’s going to haunt me now, thank you for that.” Lando laughs as he beckons for her to sit down next to him.

“I can’t be the only one who has sleepless nights over it.” Gemma continues to joke as she leans against the wall beside him.

Lando continues to chuckle at her half-hearted attempt to lighten his dark mood. But, it worked and he was feeling lighter by just laughing.

“So, why are you hiding down a mysterious hallway?” Lando wonders as he looks up and down the hallway.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Gemma counters.

“People.” Lando sighs. “Too many people.”

“Hmm. Yeah, same.” Gemma laughs. “But, moreso my shoes.”

Lando peers down and spots a pair of high heels on her red and swollen feet.

“Yeah, those don’t look very comfortable.” Lando agrees, his eyes drifting up from her feet all the way back to her eyes.

“You’re welcome to give them a try.” Gemma suggests, a smile forming on her lips as she continues to tease him.

“I’ll leave that to the professional.” Lando counters with a chuckle.

The two sit in silence for a minute or two as they stare at the Victorian wallpaper on the wall across from them. Gemma turns her head slightly towards Lando.

“You know what else is quite weird.” Gemma starts.

“Tell me.” Lando implores, curious to see what else leaves her lips.

“That you’re overwhelmed by all these people and instead of leaving, you choose to sit in this hallway.” Gemma states.

“I can’t really leave, to be honest with you.” Lando shrugs. “I can say the same about you, considering how painful your feet look.”

“Hey, beauty is pain they say.” Gemma argues, mocking him. “So, what? Is your date inside talking to all the rich folk, is that why you can’t leave?”

“Nice way to ask if I’m single.” Lando chuckles again.

“Not asking, dear. I’m just looking for some drama to spice up the night a bit.” Gemma counters, almost pouting as she looks at him.

“There’s no date. Or girlfriend, for that matter.” Lando explains. “Just lost hopes and dreams.”

“That’s depressing.” Gemma sighs and leans her head against the wall behind her.

“Now your turn.” Lando beckons, waiting to hear her explanation as to why she was in the hallway too.

“Just like you, I cannot leave. I’m here for work purposes, so I’ll stick around and enjoy the open bar until they ask me to leave.” Gemma explains, holding up her glass of wine in the air.

“I see, so you work for McLaren?” Lando wonders, taking another sip of champagne.

“You guessed correctly.” Gemma nods.

“And, what is it that you do?” Lando continues.

“I’m a data analyst in the simulator department.” Gemma explains.

“So, you have an indirect influence on how the season will turn out?” Lando asks.

“I guess you could say so. I use the data from the driver’s simulators so the mechanics can change what’s necessary on the car, so yeah, maybe a little.” Gemma responds.

“That’s pretty cool.” Lando breathes, a smile teasing his lips.

“And, you? I assume you work for McLaren too since you can’t just up and leave?” Gemma queries.

Lando turns to her and smiles, a chuckle escaping his lips. He realised that she didn’t know who he was, or at least didn’t recognize him with his mask on. He quickly removes his mask to reveal his sweet smile, completely taking Gemma by surprise.

“Lando. I’m one of the drivers. Nice to meet you.” Lando states.

“Obviously, you’re one of the drivers.” Gemma counters with a joking eye roll before removing her own mask too. She’s beautiful with green pools for eyes and full lips.“Gemma. Nice to meet you, Lando.”

“At some point we’ll have to go back inside.” Lando mumbles.

“Only to return to this hallway again.” Gemma adds. Lando stands up and helps Gemma to her feet. “Not just a great driver, but also a gentleman.”

“A guy can have more than one talent.” Lando teases as they walk back towards the main hall pulling on their masks once again.

Gemma sighs as she looks at the crowded hall. Lando peers down at her and smiles once more. She’s so beautiful, he thinks. Gemma’s eyes land on the bar which is relatively quiet. Her glass is empty and it’s time for a refill.

“Another wine?” Lando asks as he guides her towards the bar.

“What’re you having?” She asks him.

“I think it’s time for something stronger. Maybe a vodka soda.” Lando suggests.

“I’ll have the same.” Gemma agrees.

Lando places the order for the vodka sodas and hands her hers. They turn to face the crowd while sipping on their drinks.

“I think you’re the first person not to ask me how I feel about the season.” Lando comments, almost shouting over the blaring music.

“I assumed you were bombarded with that question enough.” Gemma responds.

“You said you were happy to abuse the open bar all night. Any reason why?” Lando asks, changing the topic.

“Just got out of a three-year relationship with a guy who hated seeing me drink.” Gemma bluntly answers. “He thought I would get too comfortable with other guys when I drank.”

“So, that’s why you came and sat down next to a stranger in a deserted hallway.” Lando jokes.

“Yeah, well, not all strangers are scary or have bad intentions.” Gemma shrugged.

The minutes pass in a whirlwind of laughter and shared stories as Gemma and Lando engage in a lively conversation, their connection deepening with each passing moment. The ambient hum of the music becomes a backdrop to their animated exchange, the rhythm of the beats creating a vibrant atmosphere around them. The alcohol coursing through their veins acts as a liberating force, allowing them to shed inhibitions and fully immerse themselves in the moment.

Feeling the pull of the music, Lando, with an infectious grin, seizes Gemma's hand, leading her towards the pulsating dancefloor. As they join the rhythmic sway of the crowd, the boundary between them blurs, and the dance becomes a fluid expression of joy and freedom. The cares of the outside world dissipate as they lose themselves in the infectious energy of the music.

Amidst the revelry, the pair remains blissfully unnoticed, the anonymity afforded by the vibrant crowd shielding Lando from the prying eyes of admirers or fans. The freedom to simply be in the moment intensifies their enjoyment as they twirl and move in synchrony, the connection between them growing stronger with each beat.

In a lighthearted moment, Lando, fueled by a mixture of boldness and the euphoria of the night, interrupts Gemma's laughter with a spontaneous and somewhat sloppy kiss. The surprise lingers in the air for a heartbeat before he pulls away, his gaze fixed on her eyes, searching for any signs of reciprocation. The people around them, lost in their own revelry, remain oblivious to this intimate exchange, allowing Gemma and Lando to exist in a world of their own creation.

The ambient lights cast a soft glow on Gemma's face as she meets Lando's gaze, her eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and intrigue. The air between them crackles with a newfound tension, and the sounds of the bustling party fade into the background as they share a moment suspended in time, shielded by the dancefloor's anonymity. The world around them may be alive with energy, but in that moment, it's just the two of them, caught in the enchantment of the music and the unspoken connection they've discovered on the dancefloor.

The pulsating rhythm of the music fades into the background as Gemma, emboldened by the electrifying connection between them, leans in and breathes a whispered request, "Kiss me again." Her voice, a soft and inviting murmur, carries the weight of anticipation as she pulls Lando closer by the nape of his neck.

Lando, captivated by the magnetic pull of the moment, readily complies. Their lips meet once more in a tender collision, a fusion of desire and passion. His arms instinctively snake around her waist, pulling her irresistibly closer, as if unwilling to let go of the enchanting spell they've cast upon each other. The sensation of her body against his intensifies the intimacy of the kiss, creating a cocoon of warmth and connection in the midst of the lively celebration surrounding them.

Gemma's hands cup Lando's face, her touch both gentle and reassuring, as if savouring the reality of the shared moment. The world around them disappears, and they willingly succumb to the allure of the kiss, allowing the currents of emotion to wash over them. Gemma, yielding to the intoxicating dance of lips, willingly falls against him, surrendering to the magnetic force that binds them together.

In this stolen moment, the dance floor becomes their private sanctuary, and the outside world ceases to exist. The whispers of the music, the soft glow of the lights, and the warmth of their embrace form a backdrop to a shared intimacy that transcends the chaos of the celebration. Gemma and Lando, lost in the timeless embrace, create a moment that lingers in the air—a memory woven into the fabric of the night, a secret shared between two souls entwined in the alchemy of a single, exquisite kiss.

“Let’s leave.” Lando suggests when he pulls away from their messy kiss, some of her lipstick plastered on his lips.

“What if you’re a serial killer?” Gemma argues, her lips pouting.

“Oh, now you’re worried about stranger danger.” Lando chuckles, jokingly rolling his eyes.

“Where shall we go?” Gemma wonders.

“My apartment?” Lando suggests, but he poses it more as a question for her to agree to.

“Let’s go then.” Gemma agrees.

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princessbrunette · 4 months

Note

Heyyyythis one is pretty bad and you can totally ignore this no pressure<3

But imagine season 2 Rafe meeting Carla Lambreys daughter, she’s been sheltered all her life so she’s so kind and innocent, showing up in her cute little skirts to obx accompanying her mom to look for the cross he’s instantly obsessed

omfg i love this idea, especially as it works for biological or adopted daughter. tw: reader is a devout christian and rafes a tiny bit of a silly guy about it

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

limbreys kept you locked away with her for your whole life, for as long as you remember you’ve been by her side— helping her as her health declines. instead of partying and socialising like the other people your age you were bound to her side, her sweet but very much unappreciated angel.

rafe almost laughs the first time he sees you because you’re just a walking contradiction— skirt definitely shorter than where your fingertips hang and yet a big cross hanging from your neck and a holier than thou attitude. you’re quiet, only speaking when spoken to and try your best to stay out of the way, only really there to help your mother as she stumbles about weakly.

and you address him with so much respect it makes his dick jump in his pants— approaching him so shyly at tannyhill when limbrey is tearing off wallpaper from the island room. “excuse me, sir?” you tap his shoulder and he turns around, lip tugging upwards at ‘sir’, trying to hold back the smirk.

“yes?”

“do you think you could point me towards the kitchen? my mother needs water to take her meds with.”

he blinks, tongue in cheek as he stares over your head at your mother and her brother, before turning back to you. “why don’t you follow me?” he guides you by the lower back, walking with you to the kitchen.

he uses the time to slowly corner you in the kitchen, asking questions about you and your devotion for his own amusement, entertained by the fact you truly believe the shroud will save your mother.

“you really believe that?” he drawls, lips pulling up lazily as he stares you down. you nod, attempting to do so with pride but the way he was looking at you made you feel silly.

“i do.”

he slowly reaches out, taking the cross necklace between his fingers, running them along the chain down to the pendant. you shiver at the feeling of his fingers brushing your chest— never having been in such close contact with a boy before.

“n’did jesus tell you that, hm?” he teases, which even you can recognise and you gently push his hand away.

“i just know it in my heart.” you politely explain, hoping he doesn’t push any further. he steps back, chuckling and rubbing a hand over his chin.

“oh okay, you know it in your heart.” he repeats, and this time you don’t sense the slight mockery.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

#anon #i’d love to hear more about them !#rafe cameron prompt

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harveyguillensource · 5 months

Text

Harvey's full feature and photoshoot with Robert Ascroft for IRK Magazine has been published, including a fantastic interview ranging from fashion to Shadows to 'letting in' and wishes come true. Some excerpts below:

On Letting In and identity as a home:

Remember that there's no ticking time bomb. Especially with what's been happening lately where a lot of actors who are portraying certain characters and their sexuality might be questioned, and they are outed, or they are forced to come out before, um, they are comfortable doing so. Everyone's sexuality, actors, everyone included, is their business. It's no one's business. It's their business. For people to want to know or to negate us, why don't you tell us? Why are you not telling us? Why are you hiding it? Why can't you just tell us? Tell us right now.

Forcing someone to come out... And I hate that term, too, COMING OUT. Because we know what we are, it's not the first thing they woke up that day and realized, oh, my gosh, I'm gonna tell everyone today. Everyone who knows that they are gay or that they are queer has been thinking about it. Believe me, it has been on their mind. They have thought about it. They have talked about it to themselves in the mirror. It is not new to them. And so for the idea for someone to come out is always kind of, kind of, uh, a little upsetting to me. I don't think it should be coming out. It should be called LETTING YOU IN. Because I already know who I am at that point when I share this information. They already know who they are when they share this information with you. Coming out is never really for the person. It's for the people who are surrounding them. Coming out is always for the person who wants to know. [...]

Coming out is always for the parent who is questioning you and just wants to have peace of mind. Coming out was for you to feel that you are still loved in this phase of your life or this new revelation. And it should not be called coming out. It should be called letting you in. And what you do with that information is up to the par- eh, the person who just discovered. That they let you in, and what you do once... It's like welcoming someone to someone's home: please don't destroy my home. I opened the door, and I stepped right, and you stepped right in. And it's up to the person who's my guest to either wipe their shoes, be cautious of the frames, or be careful of the furniture. Please don't, you know, jump around and destroy the home I had made. It's usually... What happens is you may let people into your homes that they trusted, and it turns out these people have no respect for your home, and they make a mess out of it.

[...] I knew that I was different and that people knew I was different. But also, as a child, that makes you go back in. It goes back into your home, closing that door and looking out the window. Cautiously, I look through the curtain, ensuring no one notices the vibrant colors inside. And no one's seeing that you put up wallpaper and that you're considering changing the tapestry, but always looking out the window. Cautiously looking out the window, ensuring no one's ever too close to the door. Eventually, you get comfortable enough to open that door and let people in.

On the evolution of Guillermo's fashion:

I do fall into the character when I am dressed for the part of Guillermo. Our fantastic costume designer, Laura Montgomery, who won the Emmy for our show's costume design, is incredible at her job. We sit down and talk about the season's arc and where we want this character to go. Guillermo wears these 1980s oversized sweaters that you can find at a thrift store. But the character is obviously more layered than that. The detail in the costume is so specific. Have you noticed his outfits from season one, where his collared shirt is buttoned up to the top, and then he puts a sweater over, and it's a long sleeve? [...]

He started off not showing any skin. Dressed a little bit frumpy and a little bit oversized on him. He wears khaki pants or brown pants and comfortable shoes. He does his hair to a specific look that he's trying to emulate because he thinks that's what a person of his position should look like. It's always what he thinks people expect from him. And it's not until he finds his own inner self of who he really is, so the essence of who Guillermo is, where he finds out that Van Helsing blood runs through his veins, that he starts getting a little comfortable in his skin, and we start seeing a little more of a fitted look. We see him with the fitted blue vest when he finds that out. He wears a thin, pinstriped white shirt that he unbuttons the top, so the collars are a little looser. He rolls up the sleeves, but he wears some brown gloves for grip to get those wooden stakes quickly.

So all those things are thought out, even the tucking in of the green cargo pants into his boots to make it easier and not to get tangled in anything in a quick escape. That trench coat that flares out so beautifully, we talked to Laura about that, that he needs to feel that he could easily take several weapons out of there without anyone questioning it because you never see it. The coat flares out with an excellent movement to it. You'll see it in the "The Night Market" episode where he fights other familiars. His coat is beautifully flared out, making him such a badass. Then, when he finally takes that off, he's a badass himself. That look was more fitted to my body, making the character look more fit and in shape. In some ways, whatever size you are, fitted clothes always look better on everyone. [...]

In season four, we see Guillermo be the best man to Nandor and help him choose wives that come back to life as the right wife for him to marry and stick to her. And after doing that and being the best man at his wedding, he wears a different outfit than we usually see him. He wears, like, this cream turtleneck with a moss green tailored suit, uh, that's really nice and compliments my skin tone. And that was Laura and I talking and looking at sketches and the materials and what's soft on Guillermo and what would be another, wink of wow, he has a little bit of fashion sense there. It's just that he's never felt comfortable in his own skin.

Sometimes, I think people are too scared and timid to risk wearing something that they might say, "I liked wearing that." But they don't take the risk, and so they're like, "Nah, that's fine. I'll just stick to the norm everyone knows me to wear." It's great for people to experiment with fashion.

On fashion, accessibility, and taking risks:

[...] I mean, for so long, you know, people always ask me, "Who's your stylist?" Or "Who dresses you?" For the longest time, for a majority of events and stuff, I dress myself. Uh, because for a long time, nobody wanted to, or not that they didn't want to. I feel they didn't know where to start to dress a person of size. Designers carry sample sizes.

For people of size, it's easy to feel that fashion is not for them, but that's not true, fashion is for everyone. It should be made and accessible to everyone. Especially when you look at the body and shape and sizes of most people worldwide, specifically in America, it makes sense to be represented in Fashion Week. And when it's not, it's a little upsetting because it's like they're no different than someone who is a size zero, size four, size... It doesn't matter. They're the same. You know, the same money. The same person who likes fashion could be of any size. [...]

I don't think anyone's gonna be on their deathbed saying, "You know what I wish? I wish I would have taken less risk in this life." Said no one ever. You know (laughs)?

I'd instead look back and say, "Oh, my gosh. Do you believe I wore that?" You know what? Yeah, I do. Sometimes, we're amazed at the things that have happened in fashion. It becomes part of history. And so when you look at stuff, it's not the embarrassment of a fashion faux pas that maybe you have done. But for the most part, you were in a time, and it was captured. That is everything down from your hair to your shoes, outfit, or even makeup if you're wearing makeup. It was like a time capsule, and it was captured in that moment. And so if you don't take a risk, you're not living in the moment. You're trying to fit into a time that has already passed or is already lived by someone else. So why not live in the moment so it's captured as a capsule for yourself and a moment in time.

On channeling his success into charity:

[...] In high school, I was looking for all these grants and scholarships for low-income Latino students in the arts and whatnot. I've been creating something where we can be of help to lower-income communities with kids who have an interest in the arts. Because that's the first thing we know: when budgets get cut in schools, especially in public schools, the first thing that gets cut is the art (not sports) but the arts. These kids have no other outlets. So there needs to be an outlet then how is there a possibility for a career or a life in the entertainment industry. Even if it's, you know, the first-ever scholarship, or like the Harvey Guillén-like scholarship, for young up-and-coming artists. Something that would help because I know that going through college was such a burden of thinking, "I don't have a trust fund.

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