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spotsspeciall · 5 months

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Factory meetings - LN4

vol. 2

Lando Norris x fem!reader

summary: Lando makes a move to Red Bull for 2024 and you work in the Red Bull factory. You meet him, and he’s a dick. But something inside you, needs him.

Notes: Shoutout to @f1goat and the “His teammate” series, for the inspiration!! Fair warning, I'm talking alittle shit about McLaren, but I am a McLaren girly and It’s all lies, I mean nothing by it! I also made up some gibberish about the car, since I don’t know how everything really works haha. This was also longer than I expected, but I can honestly say I'm pretty proud of it.

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. smut, unprotected (wrap it before you tap it folks!) p in v, pet names, language.

word count: 7.3k

masterlist

You had been working at the Red Bull factory in Milton Keynes for 2 years. After getting your degree in mechanical engineering, you grabbed the first opening in Red Bull. And now you had built your way up to your current position.

You were sitting on the chair, staring at the little metal pieces in front of you. Trying to figure out the best way to puzzle them together, and make the most out of the car.

Your job was to plan, and build components in the car. And when you gained your current position at the factory, you helped with the success of the RB19.

Working in the factory, you rarely met the drivers. They were here a lot for the simulator and meetings, but your paths rarely crossed. You didn’t need to have contact with the drivers, so you didn’t. Only seeing them from afar, when the whole factory came together for a meeting.

Monday morning, just over a week since the last race in Abu-dhabi, the RB19 had been a huge success. And you were working hard to finish the last details on the RB20 before the new season, working even harder than you did on the RB19. Trying to make the RB20 even better, as impossible as that sounds.

You had a goodbye party for Checo on Friday, as he was retiring. And Christian Horner had announced that Lando Norris was taking his seat.

You had never met Lando, only seen him when you watched the races. And from what you had heard about him, he was kind of a dick.

You and the other women working for Red Bull had formed a strong bond, you and the Red Bull media girl, Sophie, were basically best friends. And since she was on the track every race weekend, she had some encounters with Lando.

She said he was constantly grumpy. He only cared about racing, and the fact that he hadn’t had a win yet, already being in McLaren for 5 years, it started taking a toll on him.

He used to be a kind and sweet person. Loving to chat to people, and loving the interaction with his fans. He was just an all around loving guy. But when his fist win never came, and

The McLaren car never got faster. He turned mean and angry, and stopped caring about anything other than racing. And when Christian gave him a nice offer to fill Checo’s seat, he jumped on it, no hesitation.

You picked up your tools and started assembling the pieces again, to see if your mind had any ideas.

You had your normal shitty Monday morning, and you didn’t have time to properly get ready. So you were sitting here in the Red Bull work clothes, your hair was up, but it had fallen out of your bun and was falling in your face, and you kept trying to pull it behind your ears. You didn’t have time for either makeup or to put your contacts in, so it was glasses today. But it wasn’t that bad, everyone saw you like this every Monday (and most other days too)

But what you didn’t know was that Lando was visiting the Factory today. To have a tour of the factory, and meet everyone working there. You didn’t hear the door open as you were staring a whole into the piece you just assembled. But you did hear your name being called.

You turned around and met the eyes of Christian, but your eyes quickly looked over at the man standing beside him. You hurried to stand up and rip the gloves off your hands. Stretching out your hand to shake his. It seemed like he hesitated for a bit before shaking it, staring into your eyes the whole time.

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you”

“Lando”

Yeah, he seemed pretty grumpy.

As you pulled your hand away, Christian started explaining who you were, and what your job was. You didn’t know if Lando was even listening because he was still just staring at you.

Christian then turned to you and asked you how the work was going.

“Oh yeah!” You were blocking their view of the piece, so you turned to walk around the table to show them.

You started explaining what the piece was and what your goal for it was, as you put on a new pair of gloves to show them the piece.

Putting it back down, Lando looked back at you. A small smile had made its way to his lips.

“Is that going in my car?”

“Well yeah, it’s going in both cars”

“But, I’ll only drive the car if you’re the one working on it” He was now smirking at you and turned to Christian. “I’m serious” His smirk was gone.

“Don’t worry Lando, I’ll make sure of it” He said with a smile as he patted his shoulder. “We should move on to look at the paint booths”

As they headed towards the door, Lando turned around before he left. His face was unreadable, and he had a look in his eyes you had never seen. You had never been more confused, and it took you a while to get back into the right headspace for you to finally crack the code.

There were only a few days left before Christmas break, and you hadn’t seen Lando since that first time.

Today had been a stressful day as you tried to do as much as you could in the little time you had left. You were standing in front of the computer, looking at the readings from a recent test, and there were a few numbers off. The frustration got to you, and you pulled off your glasses, rubbing the bride of your nose. Before you shoved the keyboard away and buried your face in your arms on the desk as you groaned in frustration.

Lando had one last visit to the simulator before break. And before he left for the day, he decided to see if you were there. He was mesmerized by you when he first saw you. Your hair was falling in your face, and the glasses framed your face perfectly. He noticed that you had no makeup on, but you were absolutely breathtaking. And when you started talking about your work, he saw the passion in your eyes. He felt a small pull in his chest, and felt like his old happy self for just a moment when he looked at you.

But it quickly disappeared, and he realized his new mission. He needed to have you.

When he opened the door, he heard a groan as he saw your face land in your arms on the desk. The desk was quite high, and as you were bent over it, your ass was on display for him.

He had to fight himself to not go right over and touch you. But he still walked over and leaned on the desk beside you.

“Something wrong baby?”

You quickly looked up, shocked that someone was in the room with you, and why were they calling you “baby”?

When you met Lando’s eyes, you rolled your own. You had already made up your mind about him, and you were not surprised he was acting like this.

You heard a low chuckle coming from him as he saw you rolling your eyes.

You leaned closer to him, really close. He could feel your breath.

“Don’t call me baby”

You could see he was a little shocked at the closeness, so you smirked to yourself and stretched your hand out to grab your glasses that had landed beside him.

Leaning back, you put your glasses on. “And if you must know, I didn’t get the result I wanted”

You pointed to the numbers on the screen. His mouth was slightly open as he still looked a little shocked, but he turned his head to look at the numbers.

“I don’t know what any of the numbers mean” He turned to look at you.

You laughed before replying “Yeah, I know”

After closing your front door and throwing yourself on the couch. You pulled up your phone and sent a text to your best friend Sophie.

“Lando came by the Factory today and called me baby…”

She answered right away.

"BRO!"

“No way!”

“He’s probably trying to get in your pants”

“WHAT?”

“NO HE IS NOT”

“He’s probably just trying to get a reaction out of me”

“Why would he want to get in my pants when he has models drooling over him?”

“Stop it Y/N”

“You are literally drop dead gorgeous.”

“Lando wishes he could get you! But don’t let him use you like that!”

“hahahaha”

“You’re the best Sophie”

“But yeah, he will not be getting anywhere near these sexy pants!”

“YEAHHHH GIRL”

“go piss girl”

“hahaha”

Closing your phone, you laughed to yourself. And when you laid down in bed, and closed your eyes. You couldn’t help when your sleepy brain started thinking about him.

You looked down. Seeing your naked body, tits jumping at the movement you were making. You saw your hands spread out on the lower abdomen of the man under you. You saw his hands groping your thighs, hips, tits. And when one of his hands traveled up to grab your jaw, you met his eyes. Lando.

Waking up, you sat up in bed, hand flying to your jaw.

As your breathing calmed down, you realized the dream. Running the images through your head over and over again. And that's when you noticed just how turned on you were. Your panties totally soaked, and you felt hot.

Landing back in bed you groaned.

“Fuck you brain. That was so fucked up”

You rubbed your hands over your face before getting out of bed. Just a few more days of work before break.

Your brain had sneaked in thoughts about Lando all through the break, much to your dismay. And he always showed up when you were close to an orgasm by your own hand. And one time, his name slipped out in a whisper. But you would try to deny yourself that it ever happened.

And when it was time to go back to work, you felt like it had been long enough for you to forget everything, just praying you didn’t have to see him for a while.

And you were lucky for once. The end of January was nearing, and you had yet to see him. But you knew it was not long before you would.

The start of February was when the car was launching. And you had worked your ass off to finish the last bits, and the tests and readings were good, great even.

There would be a reveal of the finished car in the factory, for all employees, before it was going to be a public launch. And you knew reveal day meant Lando. But you would be fine, all of the employees would be there, no way you would have any contact with him.

And when the day finally arrived you were excited. The RB20 was going to be revealed, a car you helped make, and that was all you could focus on.

You and Sophie were standing together up at the front of the crowd, looking at the car covered in a protective sheet. Christian got up beside the car and started his speech, and then he reached the moment where he introduced the two drivers for the team. Max Verstappen, the reigning world champion, and the new Lando Norris.

As he walked up beside the car, he was dressed in the Red Bull racing suit, and you couldn’t help but admire him in it. It wasn’t wrong to think the man looked good, incredibly good. You knew he was still an asshole, but you did have eyes.

Max had his speech, and then it was Lando’s turn. It was a good speech, talking about how he was ready for something new, a more competitive car. He then started thanking the people working on the car, and he locked eyes with you, and held it until he was finished speaking.

Lando and Max then lifted the sheet off the car to reveal it. And the crowd started clapping. You marveled at the car for a minute, feeling proud. But you felt his eyes on you. So you looked back at him, and you saw that stupid smirk on his face, he then had the audacity to give you a wink. You rolled your eyes at him, and when you looked back at him, he had a genuine smile on his face, and a glint in his eyes. And for just a moment, butterflies fluttered in your stomach, before you were interrupted with Christian speaking again.

You were standing in front of the car, looking down at it in admiration. The “party” had been moved to a different room, where food and drinks were served. And when you found a quiet moment, you slipped away to go look at the car.

You were all alone as you squatted down to get a better look at the car, and the details of it. You couldn’t believe you had a hand in building it. This was Max’s car, with the big, red number 1 on it.

Standing back up, you felt a hand slide its way to your lower back. Shocked, you turned to look at the person beside you. Of course. Lando.

He had that typical smirk on his face as he spoke to you in a low tone.

“Hope you did a lot of work on my car too” “I was serious when I said I will only drive it if you have”

You rolled your eyes again, it was something he really brought out of you.

“I have!” You put on some fake excitement in your tone. “I even put a little extra work into your car” You gave him a suggestive wink.

“Oh, so my car might be a little faster?” He said in a hushed tone, like you were sharing a secret.

“Yeah” You nodded at him, and pointed to the car in front of you. “This is your car right?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “No, this is Max’s”

“Oh shit, guess I put it in the wrong car then” You shrugged your shoulders as you couldn’t hold your laughter anymore.

You turned to walk away, leaving the hold he still had on your lower back. The place where his hand had been was burning hot. And when he saw you taking quick steps to get away, he hurried to follow after you.

“Baby, that was not nice” He said with a small pout as he finally caught up with you.

You stopped in your tracks. “I told you to stop calling me that”

“Oh you look cute when you’re angry” His amusement was clear on his face.

If you weren’t angry before, you sure were now. You groaned as you started walking away from him again. And before you entered the door to the party, he shouted to you.

“Can’t wait to see you again soon baby!” You could hear the grin on his face. But you just opened the door and walked inside, hoping to not see him for the rest of the night.

Just a week after, you were back at work, looking over some data on the computer, when you heard a knock at the door, and then it opened and closed.

Turning around, you were met with Christian. “Oh hey Christian!” “Wasn't expecting you to be here!”

He smiled at you, “I am here to ask if you’re free to have a meeting in my office?”

“Right now?”

He looked down at the expensive watch around his wrist. “Yes”

“Um, yeah sure!” “I’m just going to-” You trailed off as you pressed a few buttons on the computer, before turning it off and walking towards Christian. “Shall we?”

Sitting down in the chair opposite his desk, it all started to become a little intimidating. You waited for him to speak as he looked at a few papers, before lifting his head and meeting your eyes.

“Y/N” “First, I want to formally thank you for your work on the RB19. You made the car what it was. Great work” “And I also want to thank you for the work you’ve put into the RB20. I know it will be even better than the 19” He smiled at you, and you smiled back as you nodded, silently thanking him for his words.

He continued, “I have been talking with Lando Norris, and after he had a test in the car, and felt how it worked. And after he also saw how you worked on it, he has asked for you to be his no.1 mechanic.” He paused, waiting for your response.

“No.1 mechanic? as in, at every race, in the garage, being the head mechanic on his car?” You were shocked, confused.

“Yes.” He gave you a warm smile. “When he suggested it, I totally agreed.” “It would be a perfect job for you, and with all the work you have put in, the least I can do for you is to give you a chance to be with the car at every race.” “So, do you want the job?”

You didn’t even think about the fact that Lando was the one to suggest the job for you. You just focused on the fact that you could be the no.1 mechanic.

“Yes” “Yes I do.” A big smile grew on your face.

“Perfect!” Christian clapped his hands together, and picked up the papers he previously looked at. “Take the time you need to read through them before signing”

Taking the papers in your hands, you read through it. And everything looked perfect. So you signed where you needed to. And handed the papers back to Christian.

“Thank you so much for this opportunity!” “I can’t wait to get started” You couldn’t stop smiling.

“Good!” “Can’t wait to see you on the track”

He then told you the plan heading forwards. You had plenty of meetings coming up. You needed to know what to expect in the garage. And you had a few meetings with the people working in the garage. And after all of that was finished, you were headed to the pre-season testing in Bahrain.

Arriving in Bahrain, you felt prepared. And you were even more happy to finally join Sophie at work, as you walked into the garage together.

Testing had been going pretty great so far, you only needed to do a few tweaks on the car to see if the performance was different.

On the other end, Lando had been tolerable. He had his usual flirty, teasing persona around you. But now that you worked together in a small garage, he had toned it down a bit, much to your pleasure.

But when you got a moment alone, he always sneaked up on you and rested his hand on your lower back, called you baby, and did everything to annoy you. Much to your frustration.

You had been single for a few years. And you hadn’t slept with too many people after. But now it had been a really long time since last. Too busy at work to even care, but you were growing more and more pent up and frustrated. And this asshole resting his hand on your lower back was not helping. It was also not helping that he looked drool worthy all the time.

What was helping, was the fact that he was just that, an asshole. But you had no excuse for yourself when you were alone at night, and you just stopped caring. It made you cum fast, and you were happy with that. So you kept thinking about him every time, while whispering his name under your breath.

It was the fourth race of the season, and you were in Japan. The previous races were good to Lando, who had gotten a podium on each one, but no win yet. But he was good in Japan, he knew this could be the one.

It was early on Thursday, and when Lando walked into the garage, he found you working on the car, alone.

You were so focused as you lay bent over the nose of the car, trying to screw something that was in a tricky position. When Lando saw the sight of you like that, bent over, legs spread, he felt his dick twitch.

He quickly turned his head to look around for the sign of any people, seeing no one, he walked up to you, close enough so your feet were almost touching. Looking down at you, he noticed you still didn’t know he was there, so he cleared his throat to get your attention.

When you heard the sound, it spooked you, and you went to stand up from the compromising position you were in. But you didn’t know someone was standing right behind you. So when you lifted yourself off the car, your ass hit something, someone. You felt a pair of strong hands grab onto your hips to stabilize the both of you, as your back was now flush against his chest. When you looked down at his hands, you saw his watch and bracelets and immediately knew who it was.

You heard a low groan coming from him, right by your ear. And you felt a bulge grow right where your ass was resting against his crotch. You panicked, and shoved yourself back to knock his balance off so he would get off you. When he did, you turned around to look at him with anger in your eyes.

“What the fuck was that Norris!?”

You didn’t even let him answer before you turned to storm out. Two reasons why. First, you were flustered and could feel your face heat up, and you did not want him to see that. Second, feeling his hands hold your waist, and the bulge grow in his pants, you were already soaked and horny beyond belief, and you did not want to be around him in a state like that.

Lando stood there, a little shocked, and flustered. He pulled his hoodie down to try and cover up the bulge in his pants, as he headed towards his driver room.

It was time for a car check. And you were picking up the steering wheel to put it in the car. When you turned back around to go over to the car, you saw him.

Lando was standing in his seat, and you watched him lower himself into the seat, holding onto the halo with a tight grip.

You almost dropped the steering wheel in your hand, as your eyes focused on his hands. You had to literally shake your head to get back to the right headspace.

You walked over to the car, and looked down at Lando looking around the cockpit, trying to get in a comfortable position. After he found it, he looked up and his eyes met yours.

His eyes were shining from the lighting on the ceiling. And the feeling that arose was butterflies hidden by anger. Why the fuck was he so breathtaking, but also such a dick. Fuck him.

You clenched your jaw as you kept eye contact with him.

“You gonna hand me the steering wheel love?” There was that stupid smirk again.

You narrowed your eyes at him in anger, and handed him the wheel. He clicked it in place, and looked back up at you and told you something he wanted changed on the car.

Luckily for you, when he started talking about the car, you went straight into work mode. Not a single thought about Lando in your brain. (Only far in the back)

He pointed to show you something that was underneath the steering wheel, right over where his legs rested. And you couldn’t see it. So you stepped farther towards the back of the car, to see it more from his angle. You grabbed a stepping stool that was standing close by, and leaned over the halo. You face resting just beside his.

“What was it again?” You asked him, surprisingly calm, but the working Y/N was in control right now.

He pointed again, and started explaining it. And you stretched a hand out to point to it as well, making sure you understood each other.

Lando didn’t expect you to get that close. And when you stretched your hand out and got even closer, he turned to look at you.

You felt his hot breath on the side of your face, and you could tell in your peripheral that he was looking at you. So you turned to look at him. Your faces so close that your noses almost touched.

But somehow, you kept your cool. “I can fix that for you Lando, you just need to get out of the car.” You smiled innocently at him as you leaned back and stepped away.

When he stepped out, you got your tools ready and lowered yourself into the seat, needing to sit there to get the best access.

As you worked away, Lando stood by the side of the car, arms folded against his chest. There was something going on in his body that he couldn’t recognise. He was still feeling the effects of what happened with the two of you earlier. But there was something different there as well.

On Sunday, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror in the public bathroom. It was not long before race start. And you were staring at yourself in the mirror.

You were angry, frustrated and way too fucking horny. Last night, you caved, again. Imagining your fingers were his. You used it as a way of getting the anger out, and it worked.

But your brain was on overdrive and everything was threatening to boil over. Looking at yourself, you took a deep breath and nodded to yourself, heading back out, ready for work, trying to ignore everything and hoping it would be fine.

You were sitting on the pit wall, as you watched them line back up on the grid after the formation lap. And Lando lined his car up on P1. Max lined up in P4, unlucky in Q3.

The race start was good, the top 5 drivers staying as is. Lando keeping the lead until halfway in the race, Lando boxed to get new tires. And when he moved his way back up the grid again, you heard his voice coming on the radio.

“Something is wrong.”

“The gears are not working properly”

You turned to Lando’s race engineer sitting to your right. You nodded at him, and he nodded back, a silent exchange you both understood.

He contacted Lando to tell him he was looking into it, and would update him as fast as possible.

You looked at as much of the data as you could, as fast as you could. And there you found it. Between all the numbers and graphs, there was one thing off.

You contacted the race engineer on the radio, and pointed to the mark on the screen. He saw it, and you both knew the solution. Luckily an easy one, as he only needed to press a few buttons on the steering wheel to change modes.

The race engineer nodded at you again, but this time, in a way that signaled you to tell Lando. So you did.

“Lando, mode 6, and give it 3.8”

“Understood”

“Thanks Y/N”

You felt like you could hear a smile on his face, but probably not. Right?

When you looked back at the data, you saw everything was fine. And not long after, Lando radioed back to say it was good, and he was ready to get back to the chase.

And he did just that, climbing his way back up. Lucky for him, Max had pitted not long after Lando, making Lando ahead of Max in the race.

You were anxious for the last few laps. He had gotten back into P1, and had made a reasonable gap back to the driver behind him.

The screams you heard on the radio as he crossed the line first, almost made you deaf for a minute. And you had a big smile on your face as you celebrated with the crew on the pit wall, proud of the car you helped in making.

You had gotten the car back to the garage after watching the podium. You, and two other mechanics were pulling the protective sheet over the car. You tried to keep your mind focused on the task at hand, but the image of Lando getting champagne poured on him was seared into your brain. But when you were done with everything, thanking the mechanics before you stepped back. You heard someone entering the garage.

In walked Lando, soaked in champagne and still dressed in his racing suit that was hanging around his hips. When he saw you, he actually smiled. And seeing him like that, you couldn’t help the heat settling in your core.

He almost ran over to you and wrapped his arms around your hips. He lifted you with him in a tight hug, your feet far above the ground, you had to grab onto his shoulders for support.

“There’s my no.1 mechanic!”

His voice was muffled as his face was resting directly against your boobs.

And when you squeezed his shoulders in reaction, he looked up at you as he still held you tight. You couldn’t get any words out. But as he looked up at you, he smiled. A genuine, lovely smile. But something else was shining in his eyes, and his pupils dilated.

He felt you started to slip out of his arms, so he readjusted his grip. He got a firm hold on your ass, and when you felt it, everything boiled over.

“Let. Me. The Fuck. Down.” “Now.”

The mechanics stood there in confusion until they heard that. They shared a look, and hurried to leave the garage. Avoiding you screaming at Lando.

Lando heard the threatening tone in your voice, and he immediately lowered you to the ground.

When he stood back to look at you, he opened his mouth to say something. But you were quicker.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME NORRIS? YOU CAN’T JUST LIFT ME UP LIKE THAT! AND NOT TO MENTION WHAT HAPPENED THURSDAY MORNING! YOU’RE MAKING ME GO CRAZY!” You basically screamed at him, with your finger pointing at him in anger. But you weren’t finished.

“You’re the one who wanted me to have this job, and you’re usually rude and mean, but then you’re teasing me and acting all flirty?!” “You’re so fucking confusing!”

Your brain had exploded at his point. Every feeling that had been pent up for so long, finally boiled over. And since everything hit you, you felt yourself grow wetter and wetter by the second. You let out a heavy breath and lifted your hands to hold onto your head in frustration.

Lando had just taken it all, with his eyebrows lifted in shock. He was making you go crazy? His mind was running, what did you mean? He didn’t know what to do, what to say. But then he saw the small movement you made, and the look on your face. A smirk making its way to his face as his eyes got even darker.

While in your frustration, your body just acted for you. And as you were standing there, looking anywhere but at him, your face red and hot, your whole body on fire. Your thighs squeezed together for some desperate neediness for something, anything.

And when that caught Landos eyes, he took two long steps towards you. His arms wrapping around you, the palms of his hands resting on the top of your ass.

When he was suddenly in front of you, so close. You dropped your hands in shock, and just stared into his eyes, then his lips. They were slightly parted, and you saw the quick moment his tongue darted out to lick his lips. Before you quickly looked back into his eyes, cursing yourself for the moment of weakness.

When you locked eyes again, his eyes were dark, looking down at you. Lando had no patience left. He shoved your body hard, into himself. You chests touching, and the grip he had on your ass, where he was holding you tight against him, you felt almost every detail of his already growing bulge through his pants. If you weren’t soaked already, you sure were now.

You had no control when you let out a small moan at the contact, and that was all Lando wanted, and needed to hear, as he leaned down to capture your lips in an aggressive kiss.

It was like he was hungry, starving for you. And Lando had wanted you since he first saw you, and with the months that had passed, it all came crashing down at the same time.

The kiss was messy, teeth clashing and rough. But you loved it, feeling another moan slip out of your throat.

As you moaned, Lando took the chance and slipped his tongue inside your mouth, your own immediately tangling with his. It was harsh, but so full of passion. His hands were guiding your hips in a way that gave him some much needed friction. And when your hands slid up to grab onto the hair at the back of his neck, he let out a low groan.

You couldn’t take it anymore, and you pulled on his hair, so you disconnected. Your breathing was heavy as you looked up at him. He was breathing heavy too, and his lips were wet, and slightly red. His pupils blown wide. God, he looked so fucking good, you almost wanted to go back to being angry at him. just because of how hot he was. But you didn’t, he spoke before you could do anything.

“Shit, I need you.” His eyes darted all across your face, looking for any type of reaction. “Please”

He looked so desperate, and he sounded even more desperate. He was begging you.

Fuck it, you needed this too. “Your driver room” “Now”

He was quick to grab your hand and pull you after him.

When you finally entered his driver room behind him, he turned around and closed the door behind you. And when he turned back around, he took long steps towards you, until your lips met again.

Neither of you could control the sounds coming from the both of you. His hands were everywhere, grabbing onto what he could. You hands found his hair again, grabbing it, earning a sweet sound from him.

He walked the both of you backwards until the backs of your legs hit the small couch. He spun the both of you around, he sat down and pulled you to sit on top of him.

When you sat down, Lando looked down to where your hips met as his grip on your ass moved your hips, grinding yourself onto him. You lifted both of your hands to hold onto the sides of his face, and made him look at you.

When Lando looked at you, you almost took his breath away. Your cheeks were tinted pink, and your lips were open, breathing heavily. Some of your hair had fallen in your face and your eyes were shining as you looked at him, he swore, you were a goddess. His hands slid up to hold on to your waist, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth in a way to try and control himself. But he lost it the second you whispered.

“Just fuck me already”

His hands immediately found the hem of your Red Bull shirt and pulled it over your head. You understood the signal and stood up from his lap and went to pull your pants off, as he pulled the fireproof shirt over his head.

You were standing in front of him in only your underwear as you looked at him hurrying to pull his race suit and the fireproofs of his legs. When he finally did, he looked up at you, and you swore you could see his dick twitch in his gray boxers.

Your confidence grew in you, so you went to take your bra off. When it hit the floor, you could hear him muttering under his heavy breath “Fuck”. Next, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your panties and slowly pulled them down.

It had been awhile since the last time someone saw you naked, but with the reaction Lando was giving you, his eyes looking at you like you were a goddess. It made you feel beautiful, and so powerful. So you stepped forward until you were right in front of him. His eyes kept shifting from your face to your tits.

You sat down in his lap again, your knees resting beside his hips, and your core just barely touching the outline of his dick in his boxers. When you leaned down to capture his lips again, you lowered your hips until you felt his covered dick resting between your folds. And because of the much needed friction you got. You moaned into his mouth.

The kiss was much slower and careful than before, frustration replaced by the need to really taste each other. His hands had found a tight hold on your hips, as he tried to guide them to move.

“Baby, you’re soaked” He said as he looked down at where you were resting above him.

Lifting your hips, you saw that his boxers were absolutely soaked because of you. And you felt your face heat up even more.

“Fuck, I can’t wait anymore” “You reckon you’re ready to take me?”

He looked up at you, and you felt stunned. Just nodding wildly at him, his smirk grew. He looked down again, and pulled his boxers down enough to free his dick. Springing free, it hit his abdomen. You stared down, bewildered. How was he supposed to fit?

His hands found your hips again, and he guided them to rest right above him. One of his hands wrapped around his dick, and he moved his hands up and down a few times, as he looked up at you. You were staring down at his hand wrapped around himself, and you felt your pussy clench, waiting to finally have him inside of you.

He moved his dick so the tip was resting against your hole. Looking up at him, he still had that smirk on his face.

“Think you can handle it?”

You didn’t reply before you dropped your hips down until he bottomed out inside of you. His pelvis hitting your clit. You both moaned simultaneously. The stretch was a lot, he was big, and you hadn’t had a dick in you for ages. But God it felt so good.

Lando swore no one had been able to fit around him so perfectly, and when you took all of him, he felt you clench around him, almost holding him in. He felt another moan slip out of him. His mouth was hanging open in awe as he looked at you. Your head was tipped back, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

“Shit, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted you” He almost whispered.

He slid a hand up to hold on to the side of your face, tipping it down to make you look at him. And his other hand gave your hip a squeeze.

“Please move”

You didn’t have to make him beg for you, he just did on his own. Was he really this weak for you?

A smirk grew on your face as you wanted to know just how weak he was. You just grinded your hips slowly, and you watched his face as his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. You kept your small movements up, but he tried to lift your hips up and down on him. But you were stubborn, and you didn’t budge.

Your hands grabbed onto his shoulders, as the movement was so good for you. Your clit getting friction everytime you moved back and forth. Your breath coming out in whimpers.

You closed your eyes again, but opened them when you felt his hand on your face again. The look on his face was pleading.

“Please baby.” “I need more” His voice was so soft and sweet, and you couldn’t help the smile on your lips.

“Say it again.”

“Please please please please baby”

His hands were running up and down your torso as his eyes were locked on yours.

You gave in and moved your hips up to slam them back down. And the groan that made its way out of lando could’ve made you cum already.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, as you kept up the rhythm, riding him with your hands gripping his shoulders. His hands slid around to your ass and grabbed a hold as he helped you move up and down on his dick, and his hips moved up to meet yours.

You knew the door to the driver room was pretty thin, so you bit your bottom lip to try and hold back some of the sounds threatening to escape. Lando noticed, and snaked a hand around to circle his thumb around your clit. He saw it on your face, the effect it had on you. But he also felt it, as you got even tighter around him. You didn’t moan from it, but he sure did.

You were so focused as you tried to keep quiet, but with the added pleasure it was so difficult, also because of the sounds he was making.

“Come on baby, let me hear you” He said in a low tone, as he was looking up at you.

That broke you. And he got the sounds from you that he desperately needed to hear.

As you looked down at him, you saw his eyebrows scrunched together as he was staring at himself disappearing inside you, and his mouth was hanging open. You lifted one of your hands and ran it through the wet curls on the top of his head, still soaked in champagne and sweat.

You grabbed a hold of them and pulled his head back to make him look at you. All of the feelings you had for him came rising to the surface, just as you felt your climax closing in. The feelings of anger and frustration. So with gritted teeth, you spoke.

“Fuck you.”

He enjoyed that.

“You already are sweetheart.”

You gave in and sped up your rhythm. And his thumb moved faster and his grip on your ass tightened. Your hand slid down to cradle his jaw. You ran your thumb across the facial hair growing on his chin, before you pulled him in for a searing kiss before your climax hit like a brick wall.

You disconnected from the kiss and tipped your head back, eyes screwed shut, as your vision was going white, and you whispered a quiet “Fuck, Lando” as you came.

Lando felt you tighten around him as you came, and he looked up at you, mesmerized, as he saw your face contourting as you came around him. And he followed right after, coming inside you.

You felt him filling you up, and his thumb had slowed down, but was still rubbing soft circles helping you come down from your orgasm. After a few seconds of catching your breath, as he did the same, you opened your eyes to look at him again, and he was already looking at you. The ghost of a gorgeous smile on his face.

His hands rested on your thighs, and his thumb rubbing soft circles again. Neither of you said anything, you just looked at each other.

“You’re going to be the death of me”

He was whipped.

Notes: I realized this could be made into a series or something. So let me know if you want more!! Thank you for reading<3

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #ln4 x reader #ln4 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris smut #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #lando norris x you

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kaiijo · 1 year

Text

CAUGHT IN 4K — ITOSHI RIN

pairing: itoshi rin x fem! reader content: based on prompt 5 on this list, one physical description of reader (dimpled cheek), rin’s a lovable jerk and bad at flirting notes: rin has my entire heart <3

There are many things in life that Rin dislikes. Rainy weather. Clingy people. Overly crowded places. His brother — though, admittedly, his relationship with Sae is much more complicated than any other thing on this long list of “Things Itoshi Rin Dislikes.”

There are a few things on the “Things Itoshi Rin Likes” list, including good running shoes, horror movies, and ochazuke with bream. And, at the top of the list, competing for first place, are soccer and you. If he really had to choose, Rin knows that you eke out soccer, which says something.

And Rin’s unwavering love for you is also the main reason for another item on his dislike list: when people ask how you met and got together.

“Come on!” Bachata grins, throwing an arm around your shoulder, beer bottle in his other hand. “Tell it again! It’s such a good story.”

Rin’s glare is withering. “You were there for it.”

“But I like reliving it through the retelling,” Bachira replies.

Isagi smirks. “I want to hear it again too.”

“Me three!” Reo chimes in, and Rin is regretting letting you talk him into inviting his teammates for a get-together with each passing second.

Rin scowled. “All of you were there.”

“Okay, okay,” you say, leaning against Rin on the couch. He instinctively wraps his arm around you tighter, frowning in a way you always tell him is actually pouting. “I’ll do it.”

Bachira and Isagi always made fun of the fact that the only sort of media interaction Rin was ever willing to do were press conferences about the upcoming seasons. “There’s nothing but soccer in that head, huh?” laughed Bachira, and Isagi joined him with a couple of their other teammates snickering. Rin always sneered back, “As if any of you lukewarm fuckers have room to talk.”

But they weren’t wrong; Rin was notorious for brushing off any questions that were not soccer related, fixing an incredibly cold glare at whatever reporter dared to try. But he was typically focused when it came to these press conferences.

“Underlashes Junior,” Shidou said, kicking Rin under the table. Rin snarled at him and Shidou, unbothered, continued, “they asked you a question.”

Rin turned back to the mass of reporters. “Repeat it.”

“Do you think your approach to your gameplay will be any different this season?”

Rin doesn’t even remember what he said, turning his mic on and rattling off something about how his skills will just be even better than last season, eyes not even on the reporter but to another journalist a few people to the left of them. You were waiting patiently to ask whatever question your bosses drafted for you. At first, Rin’s eyes were drawn to your pretty face and the little dimple in your cheek that deepened when you smiled. And his eyes probably would have stayed staring at your face, if not for the necklace hanging around your neck along with your press pass.

Kunigami took the next question and Isagi leaned over the Rin, asking, “What’s up with you today? You’re pretty distracted.”

Rin glances back at the journalist — you — who he had been staring at and he answered, “That’s the ugliest necklace I’ve ever seen.”

Isagi’s jaw dropped as the rest of the reporters and their own teammates grew silent. All eyes turned to you, the only person wearing a necklace noticeable enough from where the soccer team was sat.

Rin’s eyes widened a little. Fuck, he hadn’t turned his fucking mic off. Shidou, Otoya, and Karasu roared with laughter at his expense as Isagi apologized on Rin’s behalf and, on Rin’s other side, Bachira chimed in, “I like your necklace! Very colorful!” with a little thumbs up.

Rin ventured an (admittedly embarrassed) peek at you as you gave Bachira a thumbs up back before your eyes settled on Rin, expression morphing into something he couldn’t read and he couldn’t understand why it bothered him so much. It wasn’t like he hadn’t said stuff before that had garnered disapproval from everyone for being ‘rude’ and ‘unnecessary,’ and he generally didn’t care. But there was something about this instance that had guilt creeping up in his gut.

“You need to go find her and apologize,” was what Reo said immediately when they finished the press conference.

“Can we go watch?” Shidou asked. “Maybe she’ll slap you.”

Rin glared at him and stalked off ahead of his teammates. He wasn’t about to tell them that he had already planned to do that.

You were finishing the last of your notes, standing just outside the venue that had been in when Rin found you. He stopped a few feet beside you, shifting his weight on his feet and running a hand through his hair. The movement caught your attention and you turned to look at him.

Rin couldn’t help but glance down at that necklace. Hideous. Absolutely, positively ugly — an explosion of mismatched beads and tasseled pieces with dried macaroni. Who in their right mind would wear that?

You and Rin stared at each other for a little, and Rin opened and closed his mouth no less than three times, mind in overdrive. He was supposed to say, “I’m sorry for making such a rude comment about your necklace.”

Instead, what came out of his mouth was, “Why the hell would you wear that?”

Your eyebrows raised again in the same way they had when he first said it but to his surprise, you just looked amused. “You don’t think it suits my outfit?”

Rin looked you up and down quickly. Your pantsuit was a nice, neutral color that complimented your skin tone and was tailored well to your body. The rest of your jewelry was simple and classic. “No,” Rin said.

Your mouth twitched into a smile, that dimple returning, and Rin felt his ears heat up. You just hummed and replied, “Not that I need to justify myself to you but this fine piece was handcrafted by my favorite artist.”

“Who would that be?” Who the fuck would make jewelry that ugly?

“My nephew.”

And suddenly, it made sense and Rin felt himself flush, unsure if it was from shame or from your unfettered attention but he found himself mumbling, “I’m sorry about what I said earlier.”

You crossed your arms across your chest and said, “I don’t know if I can forgive you for insulting his hard work.”

Rin frowned and racked his brain for what else to say. What did his teammates say to pretty women when they got in hot water? “Maybe I can take you out to dinner then?” he asked, cringing a little as the words left his mouth.

You snorted, “Hmm, no thanks.” And Rin’s heart sank. You instead said, “Maybe I’ll consider forgiving you if you stop by at my nephew’s birthday this Saturday.”

“Really?” he asked, tone flat.

“He’s a big fan. You’re his favorite player, which I can’t say I necessarily agree with.”

Rin scowled. “Who’s your favorite then?”

You shrugged. “Yoichi Isagi.”

Rin’s scowl only deepened. You stepped closer to him and Rin could smell your perfume and it made him a little weak in the knees. You added, “If you come, maybe we can grab dinner afterwards.”

“Okay,” left his mouth before he could think and you grinned, reaching into your handbag. You pulled out a business card and a pen, scribbling your cell phone number and an address on the back.

You pressed the card against his chest and Rin grabbed it as someone shouted your name from a car. You turned on your heel and called over your shoulder, “I’ll see you Saturday, Itoshi!”

“I still can’t believe you went on a date with him after all of that,” Kunigami says, and you giggle. Rin grunts in disapproval and you just lean up to kiss the underside of his jaw.

His eyes flicker to Isagi, who’s grinning wide. “I never heard that part where you said I’m your favorite player.”

“Yeah, Rin definitely omits that part,” chimes Reo.

“Shut up,” Rin growled.

“Don’t worry, babe,” you say. “You’re still number one in my heart.” Rin rolls his eyes as his teammates chuckle and you snuggle deeper into him. He watches with an embarrassingly fond gaze as you carry on talking with the others, your eyes lighting up, that dimple appearing in your cheek as you laugh.

He may hate the way he comes off in the story of how you met, but he can safely say that he doesn’t regret a single thing.

#itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock scenarios

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httpsdana · 3 months

Note

Request: 148 Héctor Fort

Only Yours~Héctor Fort

*GIF isn't mine. credits to the owner*

completely devastated after yesterday's match with Pedri and Frenkie injured. We can't seem to get a break unfortunately :( anyways enjoy <3

you can request from my prompt list

this is my master list

players/drivers I write for

148-"I don't fucking care you're supposed to be mine."

This takes place after the barca/villareal match (i died that day)

The disappointing match has finally ended. Barca losing 5-3 to the 15th place Villareal. Hector has played an amazing match, starting with the team and later on being subbed off.

The whole team was devastated, not only them but also the fans were frustrated. y/n knew Hector would be fuming, so she kept a note to herself to measure her words before speaking.

Walking down to the tunnel, she just wanted to check on Hector before he goes to the lockers where the team will probably have a small meeting.

She stood in the tunnel as the players started walking down, greeting politely the ones she knew, before her favorite player (after Hector ofc) appeared. Pedri smiled at slightly, walking to greet her.

"hola hermosa. how are you?" he asked with his usual charming smile, that seemed a bit upset this time.

y/n blushed slightly at the nickname, before waking herself from her trance, and smiling at him.

"I'm good. nice goal out there. shame it didn't end like we wanted" she said, while he nodded sorrow taking over his features

"yeah...not how we wanted it, but we'll come back I'm sure" he gave her an encouraging smile

She nodded, agreeing with his statement. They stood in silence for a while, before Pedri spoke up again.

"waiting for Hector I assume?" he asked, while she nodded and mumbled a small yes, glancing over his shoulder to see if he arrived.

"well I'm gonna go now. it was nice talking to you" he gave her a small hug before he flashed a smile and walked down the tunnel.

As Pedri disappeared, Hector stood on the top of the tunnel, rage taking over his eyes and face. y/n assumed it was because of the match, little did she know Hector had seen every interaction she had wit his teammate, and let the jealousy take over.

"hi amor. you did so good today" she mumbled, wrapping her arms around his neck. Instead of his usual hug, he just put a hand on her back and pulled away.

"I have to go. we have a small meeting" he avoided her eyes and started to walk away

"I'll wait in the car" she said in a high voice.

He didn't say anything and kept walking down the tunnel. She felt something off about him, but brushed it off and started her small walk to where she had parked her car.

After about 15 minutes of waiting, Hector arrived, seemingly taking a shower already. He opened the passenger door and got in his seat, not saying a word. When y/n opened her mouth to say something, he beat her to it.

"Xavi is leaving at the end of the season" he mumbled, crossing his arms around his chest. y/n was left in shock, not expecting it. Xavi means a lot to Hector because of the opportunity he gave to him with the first team. What y/n didn't know was that Hector's anger wasn't because of Xavi.

The drive home was silent, the tension between the two can be cut with a knife. When they arrived home, Hector was quick to leave the car and slam the door behind him. y/n rolled her eyes and followed him inside.

"so what's with your mood swings now?" she stood in front of him with her arms crossed

"you're talking about my mood swings? why don't you talk about your flirting with my teammates huh?" he said angrily, standing up from the couch he was sitting on

"what the fuck are you talking about?" she said back in the same tone

"did you think I didn't see you with Pedri? I saw every interaction between you too, and you were enjoying it way too much" he rambled, his voice loud and angry.

y/n stood for a second taking in what he said, she did nothing wrong with Pedri but knowing Hector he got jealous over anything.

"really Hector? you're jealous of your teammate? me and him are friends and you know it. YOU were the one who introduced us, why so jealous now then huh?" she raised her eyebrow waiting for his answer

"I don't fucking care you're supposed to be mine." he said through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching while he stood close to her, looking down at her frame that seemed shorter than his

"I'm dating you not him Hector. grow the fuck up please. talk to me when you realize how stupid all this was" she said calmly, leaving him in the living room while she left to the bedroom.

After about 10 minutes, Hector made y/n and himself some tea and took their mugs to the room. He knocked on the door with his foot before pushing the door open.

''hey baby...I made you some tea" he said in a low voice, walking to her side of the bed. She was reading a book, so she closed it and took the mug from him.

"thank you" she mumbled

"I'm sorry for the scene I made. I was already fuming after the match and I guess seeing you with Pedri just made me angrier. I didn't mean for it to end like this and I don't wanna sleep knowing you're still mad at me." he said sincerely, reaching over to brush some hair from her face. She smiled at his apology, kissing the hand on her face and reaching over to hug him

"it's okay babe, just don't do it again. I wouldn't leave you for anyone else. I love you too much to do that" she smiled, him smiling wider

He pressed a kiss on her lips and sat next to her enjoying their cup of tea with some chit chats

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daryl-fucking-dixon · 3 months

Text

theres no better way to break in a new blog then posting NSFW ABCs that absolutely nobody asked for

listen to be honest with y'all I have a crazy sex drive and if I'm in the apocalypse with DARYL DIXON, then um! you better believe I want dick 25/8 (AND BEST BELIEVE ILL GET IT)

im really doing this because its almost like I'm decluttering my brain

CREDITS CREDITS CREDITSS!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) ☆- We all know Daryl would clean you up and comfort you after sex, he's not the type to fuck and dump.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) ☆- I just feel like Daryl is a major tit guy. He loves them all. Small, big, saggy, he does not care. If it can fit in his hand and his mouth then there's not a single complaint.

☆- Daryl favors his arms, and he feels like a big strong man when you latch onto his bicep.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) ☆- Like I said once, and will be saying for the rest of my life, Daryl Dixon would love to creampie you.

☆- Facials?? He wants to cum all over your face and then fuck you missionary so he can watch the way his release runs down in your mouth and on your cheeks.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) ☆- Daryl Dixon's dirty little secret is that he keeps a pair of your underwear to jerk off with when he goes on long runs. (The longer you wore them for the absolute better)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) ☆- Before the world ended Daryl didn't exactly have much sex, only a few hook-ups that happened in dark alleys when he was blasted on hard drugs.

☆- Season 1-4 Daryl would be completely lost. A total clutz when he's ripping your shirt off with trembling hands and very sloppily moving his lips against yours, eager yet needy.

☆- Season 5-11 Daryl wouldn't be as clueless after getting older, taking your shirt off first before pulling you closer by the waist, kissing you slowly and much more coordinated.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

☆- Cowgirl. Ride him to your hearts content. He loves loves loves being underneath you, moaning and whimpering as you bounce on his cock.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

☆- He's too gone in pleasure to be funny or sexy

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) ☆- Daryl is definitely hairy, but not too crazy. He's got a dark happy trail leading into thick pubes that rest rest above his base.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

☆- It depends on how clingy Daryl is and how stimulated he is. He likes to wrap his arms around you and bury his face into your neck so he can mark the skin.

☆- Some nights are filled with pure lovemaking, Daryl panting needily against you as he moans in your ear.

"Love ya so fuckin' much, so glad yer mine"

"Prettiest girl I ever seen, wanna make ya feel good"

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

☆- On those nights when he goes on long runs, all by himself with nothing but the song of nature around him, his head fills with all the memories of the softness of your body, inside and out.

☆- He often finds himself holding the fabric of your underwear against his face, whimpering into them as he twist his wrist and tease his tip, thinking about how badly he wanted to be buried deep inside your warm heat.

☆- Once just isn't enough for him. He'll stroke himself completely empty to the thought of you. The sounds of his very needy moans and wet drag of his cum-coated hand overrode the sound of nature.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

☆- DARYL DIXON CERTIFIED BREEDING KINK.

☆- Daryl also has a choking kink that works both ways.

☆- He loves to grip your throat from behind and watch how your face contorts with every thrust, listening to your breathless and choked-off moans.

☆- He also loves to watch the way you bounce on his cock, steadying yourself with your hands tightly around his neck, riding him desperately for your own pleasure.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

☆- Everywhere. If he can put your back against it, he can fuck you against it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

☆- You. No matter what you do, just once long glance and Daryl goes weak in his knees, biting his lips as his cock stirs.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

☆- Don't clown me but threesome. Daryl Dixon does not like to share his woman, friend or foe. He wants no other man to lay his hands, eyes, or dick on you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

☆- We all know that Daryl loves to eat pussy. Not matter how long or how many times he's done it, he will not get tired of the taste of you on his tongue and lingering in his mouth afterwards.

☆- He also loves getting head from you. The way you swirl your tongue around his tip and suck it drives his eyes into the back of his skull, a deep groan coming from his chest. Daryl is honestly an oral lover.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

☆- A pretty good combination of both. Depending on the mood, the night starts sensually with lots of eager kisses and roaming hands, Daryl's hips sloppily and lazily thrusting into you at first.

☆- When eager kisses become slow and deep, that's when lazy thrusts become quick and controlled, his cock sliding deeper into your velvety walls. Sometimes Daryl gets so wrapped up in how good he feels, he can't help how fast his hips start to snap against you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

☆- Only if it's absolutely safe. The first quickie you two ever had was horrifically cut short by a random walker almost biting the bare flesh of Daryl's neck, mid-orgasm at that!

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

☆- He'd be iffy about a few things depending on what they are. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you in bed, but he also never wants to deny you of what you want. (I have no fucking clue what this letter means guys)

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

☆- On the nights where Daryl just needs to not think, he can go for as many rounds as his body can physically handle. He can last for a while during the first round, but it's after the second and third when he starts to struggle. He needily fucks the both of you completely stupid, only being done when a harsh dry orgasm rocks his entire world, gasping and sobbing against you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

☆- When Daryl finds your vibrator hidden behind your pillow, he gets a little curious and tries it on himself, sitting on the bed and taking his cock out, stroking himself a few times before clicking the button, feeling the toy buzz to life.

☆- He bites his lip rough when he presses it to his tip, a loud, choked whimper ripping from his throat.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

☆- Daryl only teases you when you tease him. The way you not so innocently bat your lashes at him and firmly grip his bicep gets him riled up for the day and gets you in a world of trouble for the night.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

☆- Daryl is typically a quiet guy, but he can get pretty loud in bed. A lot of the times he muffles any moans or whimpers into the soft skin of your shoulder.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

☆- Talked about this with one of my mutuals but I think Daryl would be a little bit into knifeplay. Nothing major, he just finds it really hot your life is quite literally in his hands.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

☆- Daryl definitely has a curved dick. It's a good solid eight inches and he's pretty thick. Circumcised as well.

☆- There's a long vein that runs along the underside, and a few more that become more prominent when he's hard.

☆- His tip is a cherry red and quite sensitive due to nerve damage. (from said circumcise)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

☆- Daryl used to barely think about sex, especially in the apocalypse. He'd still jerk off every so often, but not really that often. Only when he had nothing else to do, or really needed to stop thinking, which meant he was gonna jerk off for quite a while.

☆- His sex drive went through the roof after he met you, he simply couldn't get enough. It had only taken a few times before he was completely addicted to your body, and craved it each time he was away. he jerks off much more and much longer now

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

☆- It depends how many times he came. Sometimes he'll literally pass out right on top of you, still inside you.

☆- Most nights however he usually has enough strength to clean you up, and crawl into bed next to you, pulling you closer to his sturdy chest with his arms securely wrapped around you.

#daryl x reader #daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #norman fucking reedus #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl imagines #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #daryl twd #daryl x female reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x you

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celestialcrowley · 8 months

Text

This took 6,000 years to put together.

I need to talk about some things — things that are afoot — before I pop. On my (pick a card, any card, shhh) rewatch, I've picked up on lots of potential Clues and Foreshadowing. Shouts like David Tennant, "I want to be heard!" and waves hands like Detective Azirapalalala.

It starts, as it will end, with a garden. Season 1 indeed began with a Garden. The Garden of Eden. I'm going to leave this here for now, but I'm going to come back to it. Neil never does anything by accident. Everything we saw in Good Omens season 1 and season 2 had a purpose. Have you got your turtlenecks on? Right. Let's go. While season 2 had a heartbreaking ending, their story is not over because —

It starts, as it will end, with a garden. Foreshadowing. There was a lot of it. I'll start with two important lines that were said by Crowley and Maggie. Maggie mirrors Crowley. "I'm coming back. I won't leave you on your own." Crowley had to leave Aziraphale in order to save the humans, but then we got, "I'm not leaving him to face them on his own." Parallels. Similar lines, and, in that moment, Maggie took Crowley's place as Aziraphale's protector. “Would I lie to you?”

Crowley does lie, but he promised Aziraphale that he’d come back to him, and he did. I’ll come to you is something Crowley will never lie about. More on that specific detail later. WAIT AND SEE! Season 1, Episode 5: The Doomsday Option "Look, wherever you are, I'll come to you. Where are you?" Season 2, Episode 5: The Ball "I'm coming back. I won't leave you on your own." There are parallels here too. Both lines are similar, both were spoken by Crowley and both were in the fifth episodes. It might not mean anything, but it could be a Clue, and I've still got my eye on Neil ... and his ominous lighter. Season 2, Episode 6: Every Day "Angels are like bees. Fiercely protective of their hive." This line shouted at me. Anthony "Ji'mNotNice" Crowley, while no longer an angel, has the protective tendencies of a Guardian Angel. He is the bee. Aziraphale is the hive.

In the fifth episode of season one, Crowley had been stuck in a traffic jam and then decided he was going to go 100% feral and drive his Bentley through fire. Nothing was going to stop him from getting to Aziraphale.

In episode 1 of season 2, The Arrival, Crowley losing his temper, I believe, foreshadows his threat to Jimmm “ShortForJammmes” Gabriel —

— which took place in the fifth episode of the second season.

“But I was there, and I do remember very clearly the look on your face, Archangel Gabriel, when you told my only friend to shut his stupid mouth and die.”

Right — ready? I threw these in as well because I have a hunch that they could also count as potential foreshadowing. Let's look at three very specific lines. Season 2, Episode 2: The Clue

I need to talk about that line because it appears to heavily foreshadow the end of season 2 episode 6. Aziraphale went with the Metatron to Heaven despite his bookshop. His love for food. Coffee. The kiss. Crowley. Despite everything he holds dear.

He is going along with Heaven as far as he can. I'm going to talk about the Coffee Shop Theory first, which is going to lead right into the Body Swap Theory, and why I don't stand by them. The Coffee Shop Theory We don't know a lot about the Metatron because we've hardly seen him as anything other than a floating head and his claim to be the Voice of God — at least right up until the end of season 2. There were a lot of red flags floating around just like his head. This conversation to start with... The Metatron: Do people ever ask for death? Nina: What? The Metatron: Well, the name of your establishment. Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death. I assume they always ask for coffee. Nina: They don't ever ask for death, no. The Metatron: No, I don't suppose they do. So predicatable. So predictable.

There was a sinister edge to it, and I didn’t like it. Crowley has asked about the name of the coffee shop, too, but it’s Crowley. He’s harmless. Something about the Metatron doesn’t sit right with me.

1) None of the angels in the bookshop seemed to recognize the Metatron, but at least several of them should have. They did see him as a floating head, so why didn’t they know him while Crowley did?

2) Where exactly has God been?

3) There was definitely something evil about that look the Metatron gave to Crowley in the bookshop. Why didn’t he seem to react to it?

The Metatron appeared to use manipulation tactics and mimicked Aziraphale’s speech patterns as a way of convincing him to accept his proposal. He brought him a coffee — it’s no secret that Aziraphale enjoys coffee and nice meals — complimented him — an angel of your talents — used the phrase jolly good — something Aziraphale has said before — and threw this in.

“As Supreme Archangel, you would get to decide who to work with.”

He’s using Crowley as another manipulative tactic because he knows how deeply Aziraphale cares for him, but —

1) He knows Crowley will not agree to return to Heaven.

2) He wants them separated because they are too powerful together. And nothing will be able to stand in their way if they are not separated.

Performs a wibbly wobbly timey wimey miracle

The Body Swap Theory

Aziraphale is a master of his face. He’s bubbly almost all the time, but when he’s not, it shows. I can’t bring myself to stand by the body swap theory because of two things.

Aziraphale made this face when he had Hell convinced that he was Crowley. This smile —

— closely resembles this smile.

This is Aziraphale, but he’s not the Aziraphale we know. This is an angel who has already put his armor on and is ready for battle. This is an angel who is going to fight for everything he holds dear.

The Metatron may have successfully separated them, but he clearly hasn’t been paying close attention to Crowley or Muriel. He apparently didn’t notice how feral Crowley became when Aziraphale was threatened in any way.

You don’t separate the bee from the hive.

Muriel willingly took our favorite murder hornet bee into Heaven. It’s clear they like Crowley, and he likes them as well. There were no signs that Muriel lost their angelic powers, and that could result in them getting Crowley into Heaven again. I believe they are going to play a key role in season 3.

Performs another wibbly wobbly timey wimey miracle…

“You’re just an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can.”

“Oh, I am, but rescuing me makes him so happy.”

“You came back.”

My point is … m’point is …

Aziraphale will always go along with Heaven as far as he can … until he doesn’t, and I believe we will get to see that in season three. As soon as he was told of the Second Coming, it was clear that he was not pleased.

“You’re so clever. How can somebody as clever as you be so stupid?”

Aziraphale is clever, and dangerously so.

And that set Armageddon his plan into motion.

To wrap things up, here’s the thing regarding more on that specific detail later — Crowley will always be the bee, and he will always be fiercely protective of his hive Aziraphale, and he will either always be waiting for him or always come back to him.

It starts, as it will end, with a garden.

Their Nightingale will sing once more.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #david tennant #aziracrow #michael sheen #ineffable husbands #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens 1 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #ineffable idiots #muriel #the metatron #nina #maggie #ineffable fandom

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still-a-morosexual-help · 1 year

Note

okay so lately I have seen a lot of people claim they hate mammon bc he steals from mc, and like there's nothing wrong with disliking a character lol but I don't recall mammon ever stealing from mc?? like the only thing I can think of is that one time in season 1 I think where he was going through their stuff and said he was looking for something to sell (I think?? it's been a while) and beel straight up calling him a liar lmao l'm just wondered if I missed something? or if this is just newer players who maybe misunderstood that one scene? and I figured if anyone would know it would be you lmao

I got so fucking pissed about this (not at you anon <3) cos this is the third time I got an ask like this, that I scrolled all the way down my 'Obey Me Mammon' tag to June/July 2020 and then slowly scrolled my way up pulling all the receipts I could.....I saw this immediately after you sent it and I just finished now...... turns out it takes 5 straight hours to go through my Mammon tag😶

I have answered this exact same ask twice before and I can only assume it's new people? Like honestly you can't play the game for a long time and still think this (they prove this false within the game in LESSON FOUR)

Not only does Mammon NOT steal from MC, he also:

a.) Gets legitimate/legal jobs whenever he wants to buy MC something (which is pretty frequently)

b.) Shares the money with them when he comes into a large sum of money

But anyway here are the links to the posts talking about all this:

(everything is directly taken from canon or based off canon)

A.) No he doesn't steal from MC

• Full Summary of the Lesson 4 locked chapter where he goes through MC's stuff and a compare and contrast of what we know about Mammon from future lessons, events, devilgrams

• First post talking about this, goes more into detail about him not stealing from them

• Second shorter post about how he doesn't steal from them

• They're literally Partners in Crime

• He straight up refuses the Midas touch (multiple times I believe) after realising it means he won't be able to touch MC anymore

• HEADCANON that maybe he steals/borrows their clothes, with their knowledge, to wear

• In the small introductory manga page they say the thing he likes as much as money is MC

• In S3 he admits to loving MC more than he loves money

B.) He goes out of his way to get MC Presents (which we works actual jobs to earn money for)

• Mammon at the Office Devilgram, where he gets an actual office job so he can buy MC a watch he saw them looking at

• In the Movie Date Devilgram he rents out an entire theatre for the two of them because it was the anniversary of the day they first met

• In the You Always Ride Shotgun Devilgram he rents out a pool for the two of them

• He's always giving MC presents

• Usually he buys matching things for them

• He buys them shoes in their favourite colour

• Mammon's love language

• He wants to share his winnings from a lottery with MC

• He finds a secret second map in the pirate au event and tells only MC so they can share the treasure

C.) It's not just MC, he puts the others before Money too

• In the Presents From Mammon Devilgram he buys presents for everyone

• In The Guardian Demon Devilgram he saves a 9yr old orphaned homeless human girl from a mugger, fosters her and plans to pay for all her needs until she's an adult/can provide for herself - which is why he's always in debt to the three witches who look after her for him, there's also extortion going on from them towards him

• He'd rather lose the entire fortune he won than make Luke upset

• List of times he's put others before money

• He straight up tells Luke he doesn't mind missing out on a reward as long as it means Luke is alright

• Socks for Beel

• He gets a stone for his birthday which can give him whatever he wishes for, he wishes for fortune to come to whoever has the stone and then gives the stone to a student who tried to hurt him

D.) How Mammon works as a character

• Solmare makes you form certain expectations about him and then starts breaking them within the next few lessons and it's amazing to witness

• Friendship, Actions & Reality Vs Calling MC 'Servant'

• Mammon, MC and their Friendship

• Mammon being smart and why he comes off as an idiot

• His thoughts about himself vs MC

• He's actively changing and growing as a character and he knows it

• How Mammon actually views himself

• Why there's a difference in his level of affection in public vs privately

• Jerk with a heart of gold trope but better

• Mammon and how much he cares about consent

• How outsiders see Mammon vs how people from the city see Mammon vs how his close friends and family see him

• Chasing some creep away from MC

• How his relationship with MC changes and grows throughout the season

E.) Other reasons to love him

• Examples of how much he loves MC

• How supportive he & MC are of each other

• Some of his funniest moments

• He's objectively terrifying

• Mammon being a good brother

• He's extremely ride or die for MC

• He waits for MC when they've got to stay late at RAD for other work

• Despite being an ancient being all his best memories consist of the time he's spent with MC

• He created a whole line of toys based around missing MC

• Everything he says about loving MC in his 2022 birthday event

• List of things he's good at

• The amount he loves MC

And this is just a few of my posts about mammon, his character and what there's to love about him

And look it's MORE than okay for people to dislike a character but at least dislike them for something that actually happened?

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misshoneyimhome · 5 months

Note

Idk why but I need some Willy angst…like you met at the end of last season and decided to officially start dating in the off season spending it all together in Europe but once you’re back in Toronto and the season starts you feel like he’s lost interest or is embarrassed by you because he doesn’t want you going out in public with him nor does he introduce you to the team and other WAGs. And Willy does it because he’s worried the public eye and comments will be horrible to you so he wants to keep you away from that and emulate the chiller lifestyle you got to have in Sweden but he can’t communicate his reasoning so you tell him you want to end things because you can’t love someone who doesn’t want to be seen with you and he breaks down, and it’s the first time you see him cry🥲

Well, to be fair we all need a little Willy angst once in a while 😉 I absolutely love the idea bb! And I hope you’ll enjoy reading it, just as much as I did writing it ❤️

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Gonna give it to you, in capital letters | William Nylander 🖋️ 1️⃣5️⃣0️⃣

"We need to talk…"

A message nobody wants to get, and definitely not one William Nylander ever expected to receive. Especially not at this particular moment.

You’d met William last season, just before the playoffs, at a coffee shot downtown and quickly, you’d developed a connection of some sort.

Initially, it was a relaxed and easy-going friendship, kept low-key as you had recently ended a relationship, and casual due to William's hectic schedule.

Nevertheless, it was a strong friendship.

But then, gradually, things started to escalate a bit. You stood by William throughout the playoffs on the sideline, offering support, aa you both simply relished each other's company. Thus, what began as a casual friendship, involving late-night conversations and casual coffee meet-ups, gradually shifted towards something more intimate and physical.

As William faced the highs and lows of the games, dealing with intense stress on good and bad days, you remained a constant source of support for him. Usually, you were his go-to for random talks. However, one night, after a particularly tough loss, he felt a need for more, and made a move on you.

It was subtle, neither too eager nor forceful. He merely became a bit touchier and more sensual in his tone and behaviour, melting you completely under his touch.

Admittedly, William was undeniably attractive. Most people thought so, and you were no exception. However, despite the cheeky banter, friendly flirting, and shared laughter, you both maintained a platonic relationship until that fateful evening.

And it was nothing short of incredible.

The sex had been gentle and sensual at first, before you’d both been eager to explore each other further, and soon it had become rather heated and intense.

Yet, it also resulted in something more.

At first, you reckoned William probably just needed some physical release due to all the ups and downs of the matches. But as it turned out, he longed for much more than that. William seemed to want you around all the time, or at least to swing by late in the evening after games or when he returned from away matches.

It kind of felt like you were his dirty little secret, but honestly, you didn't dwell on it much. His schedule was all over the place, not your typical 9-to-5 routine, so you didn't read too much into it. Well, at least not in the beginning.

And just when you were thinking it might be a good idea to chat about what was going on between you two - not that you were necessarily in need to put a label on it, you just wanted to know if William was still keen on you - he completely surprised you by inviting you to join him in Europe during the off-season.

Initially, you were a bit taken aback and hesitant since you'd only been going out with him for a few months. But William was persistent, and since the idea sounded pretty intriguing, you thought, "Why not?" and decided to go with it.

And boy, were you glad you did.

Your time in Sweden was absolutely amazing. William showed you all around Stockholm, shared his favourite spots and eateries, introduced you to Sweden's hidden gems, and treated you like royalty.

He whisked you away for romantic dinners, really putting on his a-game in the dating department. And before long, he opened up about wanting you to be his. Which in casual-Swedish-27-year-old-guy speak, basically meant you were now dating seriously.

You were over the moon about your time in Scandinavia. You witnessed a different side to the easy-going forward, experienced his more tender side first hand, and had mind-blowing sex for weeks.

And then, just when you thought that was it, he took you to other European places. Places you'd never even heard of and couldn't quite pronounce, making you feel like you were in a fairy tale - so much so that you had to pinch yourself to believe it was all real.

However, despite the pinching, your fairy-tale had to come to an end at some point, and you had to return to reality and everyday life in Toronto.

But returning to Toronto turned out to be way different from what you had expected.

William, the guy you'd just spent over a month with every single day, suddenly kept his distance and limited your interactions to phone calls or late-night chats after training and games.

It felt odd.

You genuinely believed that during the off-season, you both had connected on a deeper, more intimate level, taking your relationship several steps further. But William's actions contradicted those feelings.

He didn't take you out for dinners anymore, nor did he seem interested in meeting up during the day or having you over if there was a chance someone else might be around.

Even when you mentioned being at the arena to support him during a home game, he just told you to head straight to his place instead of waiting for him while he finished showering.

It was like you were suddenly back to being his secret, hidden even from those closest to him: his teammates.

When you were alone, he talked about them incessantly, sharing every little detail about his teammates, the ones he was closest to, and those he felt played best with him. Yet, it felt like he didn't want them to know anything about you.

And before long, you'd had enough.

William was an incredible guy, and your feelings for him ran deep. But this situation was becoming uncomfortable and unpleasant. It felt somewhat absurd that he could be jovial and happy around you at any hour, but as soon as you weren't snug in his condo, you became a stranger to him. Or someone he'd call just to chat.

In a way, you felt ridiculed. And eventually, you decided to take the mature step, safeguarding yourself from potential heartache by ending it.

However, you wanted to handle it properly, so you texted him to arrange a meeting.

"Hey, can we meet up sometime soon? We need to talk…"

Across the city, William felt a pang in his heart as he read your text.

He had just finished today's workout and was about to head for a shower when he saw your message, causing him to gulp in an attempt to remain composed in the locker room.

However, his expression didn't go unnoticed by his teammates.

"Hey, everything okay, Willy?" Auston asked, a hint of concern in his eyes as he observed his Swedish teammate.

"Yeah…" William attempted to reply, but his tone lacked conviction, after reading your text multiple times.

"You're sure?"

And William knew he couldn't hide the truth from his closest friends.

"No… it's y/n…" He let out a deep sigh.

"Is she okay?" the team's captain, John Tavares, chimed in, wearing a slightly concerned, paternal expression.

"I don't know… she just sent me 'the text'…" he spoke softly, trying to conceal any hints of disappointment, though failing when he showed your message to the boys.

"Ooh… that's the worst…" Auston replied, attempting a light hearted comment to lighten the mood. "That can only mean one of two things: either she's dumping you… or she's knocked up."

However, despite Auston's attempt at humour, it did little to alleviate the situation. So instead, Tavares stepped in, offering his support.

"She probably just wants to talk about your relationship," he said, flashing a reassuring, warm smile. "Making sure you're still into each other, you know, communication."

William tried to reciprocate the kind smile and nodded lightly.

"Yeah, that's not exactly my greatest talent…"

"I know, so maybe this is your chance," the elder teammate suggested. And with those comforting words in mind, William agreed to meet you at his condo in 20 minutes. He then quickly wrapped up in the locker room and made his way out.

As William made his way back home, a strange sensation settled in his chest. He had never faced a situation where a girl might be pregnant despite using protection – at least not to his knowledge. Additionally, he couldn't quite comprehend why you suddenly wanted to end things with him.

And this was a new scenario for him. Typically, he would be the one ending things with girls, sending them the text about how things weren't working out. But now, finding himself potentially on the receiving end of a breakup, he couldn't quite wrap his head around it.

So, when you stood in front of him in his living room, tears threatening to spill, William felt another tug at his heart.

"Willy," you spoke softly, attempting to sound confident and self-assured, despite having rehearsed this moment multiple times, knowing you most likely wouldn't be able to remain composed. "I think we need to stop seeing each other…"

You felt the tears welling up but tried to hold them back by controlling your breathing.

"Y/n… I don't understand… I mean, why? I thought we were having a good time," William replied, matching your subdued tone.

"I think we both know why…" You silently hoped he would reach the same conclusion as you, but William's thoughts were far from aligning with yours.

In his mind, William ran through potential reasons you might have: Your schedule is too busy and unpredictable,' You’re away too often,' 'I’ve found someone else,' or 'I just don't have feelings for you.'

However, your actual words were far from what he anticipated.

"I know you're embarrassed about me… and I just can't love someone who doesn't want to be seen with me or introduce me to their closest friends… you're keeping me as a secret, and I know I can't ignore my feelings for you, which only makes it even more hurtful… But I'm tired of feeling ridiculed by this… so, I can't be with you anymore…"

You’d given up on holding back your tears midway through your heartfelt speech, letting them stream down your cheeks as you spoke from the depths of your heart, despite the aching pain in your chest.

William was baffled. Embarrassed? You believed he was embarrassed about you.

His eyes widened, fixed directly on you as his mind scrambled to form comforting words, to assure you that this wasn't the truth. But the words seemed trapped, unable to escape his lips.

"And although it hurts like hell," you continued, briefly looking upwards, trying to gather your tears, and sniffled lightly. "I try to understand. I mean, we had a wonderful time during the off-season when you had plenty of time. But we were away from this normal, everyday life, and you didn't have all those girls around like you do here… so perhaps, you've just lost interest in me since coming back, which is okay – I mean, I can't change the way you feel… I just…" You took in a deep breath, gathering the courage to continue. "I just wish you'd told me, so I wouldn't look like a fool, like I do now…"

Silence enveloped the room after your heartfelt confession, your voice almost cracking near the end of your final words.

But William's mind was in complete disarray. And your words cut deep within him as he realised the weight of his actions.

"Fuck…" he softly mumbled to himself, briefly looking down before meeting your gaze.

Your body seemed to fold into itself, arms wrapped around your chest in a stance of defeat and vulnerability. Your eyes held a soft yet sorrowful expression, and William could tell you were truly hurt.

And as he had admitted to Tavares, William wasn't the greatest at expressing his emotions. But now, he was beginning to realise the extent of the damage caused by his lack of communication. And this was his chance, as the captain had mentioned.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to find the necessary words.

"Y/n… I'm not… I'm not embarrassed about you," William's chest felt heavy, emotions stirring within him. "Shit…" He threw his arms up in frustration, finding it immensely difficult to speak. "It hurts like hell hearing you say that… Why would you think I'm embarrassed about you? Or that I've lost interest in you?"

His words came out sharper than he intended, emotions bubbling to the surface, as he couldn't contain his frustration, realising that he was the cause of your pain.

"Because you don't want to be seen with me anywhere… you only want me around here, in hiding, and you never want me to meet any of your friends and teammates, Willy…" Your voice rose as you cried out, mirroring his frustrations.

"I'm just trying to protect you, y/n!" William almost shouted, surprising you with the intensity of his response. "I just… I want to keep you safe and away from all of that!"

"Protect me from what, Willy? Because from what I can see, you don't want to be seen with me or let anyone know that we're dating," you firmly shouted back, not entirely convinced by his defence.

"That's not at all how it is! You don't get what it's like."

"Then please explain to me what it's like!"

William took a deep breath, struggling to control his emotions from boiling over. You were pushing all the right buttons, and he knew you had every right to do so.

"People can be cruel, y/n… the media, people online… and I don't want you to experience that," he exhaled. "I'm NOT embarrassed about you, GOD, I can't believe you'd think that… I just – I want to shield you from all the awful things people say about me… and other players and their girlfriends… I fucking love being with you, and the last thing I want is for you to be scared away by those who post hurtful comments online or make up lies to stir up drama between us…"

Now, it was William feeling the tears welling up.

"But then why wouldn't you even introduce me to the team? You always talk so much about them, but for some reason, you don't want them to know about me! Don't you see how that makes me feel?"

William sensed himself becoming overwhelmed, realising the depth of the situation, and he couldn't hold back any longer. A tear escaped and trailed down his cheek, as he tried his best to explain.

"I didn't want to drag you into my world, y/n! It can be messed up, and you deserve so much better…" His voice cracked, tears flowing uncontrollably.

And witnessing William cry evoked a wave of emotions within you.

You had never seen him even close to tears. In fact, you had never seen him display anger or hurt, nothing beyond hockey, and even that only extended to minimal frustrations. William was always known for his calm and composed demeanour, never letting his facade crack. Yet tonight, you had cracked him wide open, causing him to spill his thoughts and feelings.

"All I wanted was to keep everything easy going and wonderful between us… just like it was in Sweden. It was so perfect, and when I realised you were the one, I wanted to be with, I guess I just tried to do whatever I could to keep it that way… so you wouldn't leave me."

“Willy,” you softly breathed out. “Why didn’t you tell me all of this? That this was how you felt…”

Your question resonated with the right reason, prompting a timid smile to form on his lips as he let out a sigh.

"Because I'm not good at this… explaining everything and talking… feelings, y/n…" he softly admitted, your eyes locking in a heartfelt moment of deep honesty.

Relaxing your tense posture, a bit, you slowly moved towards him, flashing a soft smile.

“Willy, I want to be with you… I know I don’t fully understand your world, but it’s part of you, and… I want all of you, no matter what,” you reassured him, coming to stand so closely that your bodies gently touched.

William sniffled before managing to form proper sentences, briefly looking downwards as his hands found their way to rest on your hips.

“I’m sorry, y/n… I just thought it was better to keep you away from it, you know…”

“I know, those were your best intentions,” you softly smiled, gently resting your hands on his chest. “But Willy, if you really want me around, in your life, you have to let me in… for better AND for worse…”

“I do, y/n… I do want you in my life… I just don’t want you to be scared away,” he timidly admitted.

“Don’t worry, babe. It takes more than that for me to leave,” you tried to ease the tension, and fortunately it seemed to work.

“Good…” William sighed in relief, his forehead gently meeting yours.

“Just promise me one thing,” you said, looking up at him again.

“Anything.”

“Next time if you have these kinds of thoughts, please just tell me… I can’t read your mind, and I NEED you to let me know what’s going on inside that pretty big brain of yours,” you chuckled lightly. “You have to use your words – in capital letters, please,” you emphasised, prompting a chuckle from William as well.

“I promise I’ll try to do better,” he replied with a smile, before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on your soft lips.

It was a huge relief for him to finally get everything off his chest. Realising that this was mostly due to his not-so-well-thought-out plan, he now saw a great chance of having you in his life for much longer.

“By the way,” William suddenly added as your faces withdrew slightly. “The team does know about you… in fact, they know all about you.”

“What!?”

“Yeah, so really, you haven’t actually been that much of a secret…” he chuckled, seeing your baffled reaction. “But I guess that’s just one less thing for us to check off then.”

“You’re really something special Nylander… did you know that?” you chuckled lightly.

“Yeah, and now I’m yours something special,” you merely replied, before pulling you in for a deeper and more heartfelt kiss this time.

#my asks #william nylander imagine #wn88 imagine #nhl hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine

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justanotherhh · 3 months

Text

alastor aroace semiotics: symbols/metaphors/codes (oh my!)

thinking about some of the aroace subtext, both in terms of what's definitely intentional, and things that one can pick up on within the burgeoning field of "what the heck does aspec (in this case aroace) semiology even look like in (this particular) narrative?"

there's the really obvious one of course "ace in the hole." funny as well, because ace in the hole could also reference Alastor being the card you play as a hidden advantage (potentially hinting that Rosie knows that Alastor has his own agenda and supports that, like she does in the song). Of course "Alastor is ace" is the main point of the joke, because it's a sentence that comes a little out of nowhere, and clearly confuses Alastor, because he doesn't know Stuff

2. secondly, there's the pilot episode's placing Alastor first next to and then on top of the Ace of Spades. tbh if this was an accident, it sure was a serendipitous one, because the Ace of Spades not only refers to being ace, but specifically aroace (with Hearts meaning alloace, Diamonds meaning demiace, and Clubs meaning grey-ace <- t Ace of Diamonds/Clubs are a more open to interpretation, I've seen some also use them for demiromantic and greyromantic)

3. Body language! Alastor's reactions to being propositioned or involved in a sex joke, or having to listen to romance talk ranges from discomfort (glitching), to blunt refusal/shutting down of the conversation, to boredom/distraction. I haven't made a study of Alastor's body language in detail, but I'd be interested in how his smiles potentially shift when around very sexual and/or romantic discussion, regardless of whether he's the centre of that (but probably moreso if he is). I think this would come more to the fore in future seasons if there were examples beyond Angel Dust, who also made Husk uncomfortable in the first half of s1, but Alastor -- especially in the pilot -- had very visceral reactions to Angel's "flirting/joking," moreso than anyone else, until Angel had really gone too far with Husk in ep4 (and he come onto Alastor as strongly/invasively as he did with Husk)

4. Speaking of Angel... Alastor not being present outside of a flashback in all of episode 4, and not in episode 6 either. Both episodes featured sex heavily, including Angel showing off one of his pornos, and the gang going to a sex club. Also, Valentino was in both of them (makes sense, seeing as they were Angel-centric). I wonder what Alastor feels about Valentino's whole... existence. He's also the only main s1 hotel character to not be involved in the trust exercises that lead them to the bondage/SM club. this has nothing necessarily to do with the character, but he's very much placed outside of sexual scenarios and places by the writing/plot, which is fun to notice, especially in the first two examples, as his not being in the episodes isn't actually explained. No Alastor in the sex episodes, because his fourth wall sex repulsed senses were tingling?

5. boundaries and power fantasies. that is, Alastor is a character who has very clear boundaries and ways of enforcing them. from blowing up Sir Pentious when he grabs his coat, to noping out of any space he wants to, to seizing the narrative from Vox and telling the story on his terms, to shadow tentacles (ironic), nobody touches him emotionally/physically unless they're allowed. Niffty, Rosie, and Mimzy so far appear to be the ones who have crossed into that "allowed" space the most, but considering he lets everyone (barring Lucifer and Husk, who don't want to) hug him in the finale, some of those barriers are coming down, which is another interesting analysis to make at some point

these boundaries aren't all entirely healthy either -- the way he lashes out at Husk who seems to actually be trying to look out for him (which suggests that Husk is emotionally close-ish to him, enough that he didn't realise he was overstepping), and the way he breaks down in the finale, shows that his inability to be vulnerable in front of others is... not actually a good thing. I wrote a whole bunch about how this part of Alastor's writing play into a very aroace-in-feel narrative for him, but suffice to say... a story about someone with boundaries that seems to be completely absent of "romance/sex will fix you" is refreshing. and very aroace coded

there's also a power fantasy in the idea that one can simply bend the space to avoid ones boundaries being trampled over. to be able to either nope out of a room or to make oneself so terrifying that nobody would want to try to get up in your space... it's got a little smthinsmthin of a "wish it were me" in there. being repulsed means an often constant erosion and invasion of boundaries, from people making your disgust and/or obliviousness the centre of their sex jokes, to being hyper-scrutinised and challenged every time you do or don't let someone into your space in whatever way, or challenge their notions of what's "allowed" as an aroace person. sometimes you just want to say "Demonic Powers Be Upon Ye" and be done with it

6. An Absence. most often aspec narrative is defined by an absence of allo-narrative. that is, Angel Dust, Husk, Charlie, Vaggie, Cherri, Sir Pentious, Lucifer, are set up as allo-figures with romance and sex featuring more or less in all of their stories. the only hotel residents so far who don't have that going on are Alastor and Niffty, and Niffty's story has yet to have the foundations laid out for beyond the very bare bones, and she flirts with others (her "bad boy" preference). whatever Alastor's journey is, it's not coded as alloromantic or allosexual in any way, whether through casual jokes/flirting, or a longform romantic and sexual relationship exploration, with the possible exception of...

7. Vox. the characters that Alastor seems closest to in this story are Rosie, Mimzy, Niffty, Charlie, and Husk (with the mysterious figure that owns his soul looming in the back as well). out of them, none of them are coded as anyone he's sexually or romantically involve with or heading in that direction. the last figure in Alastor's life that's very heavily figured so far is Vox. And Vox is obsessed with Alastor in a way that absolutely can be read as a bad one-sided break-up/jilted stalker type framing, with Alastor gleefully recounting his "no" when talking about their past, and otherwise putting Vox out of his mind, while almost all of Vox' big character moments revolve around how much real estate Alastor takes up in his mind (literally, considering his error message is all Alastor messaging)

Vox being a figure who is symbolically the trampler of aroace boundaries is a very good way of showing Alastor's total disinterest and even disgust (depending on whether or not he knows that Vox was/is into him), and can act as a future potential interesting barometer for other characters to be "less" invasive, but still not quite getting it to begin with (see, Angel Dust's casual flirting, Charlie's tendency to see everything from her perspective, who knows how Cherri and Lucifer might fit into this equation, and generally the sex-and-romance framing of a lot of the other narratives)

8. I talked about aroaceness being a humanising factor to Alastor in my other big ol' post I did, just want to mention it here as well. so far it exists somewhat as a Potential, in the sense that we're firmly in s1 and there's still a lot of ways this could all go, but I think it's worth mentioning as a form of foundational signposting work that's been done for his character

he's more on the dark grey end of the grey scale of all of these characters, he's manipulative, sadistic, cruel when he wants to be, petty, selfish, likes being the centre of attention + is easily rankled when he's not, and presumably he went to hell because he killed people for kicks <- these traits are not unique to him, considering the setting, but what is is the beginnings of a storyline exploring his particular relationship to vulnerability and power and why those things are a part of him in the way they are. this from the perspective of someone who is aroace (and possibly repulsed) instantly adds a potential sympathetic nuance to who he's become, similar to the layer of power fantasy mentioned above. both of these turn his narrative from a cautionary tale or a villain-played-straight (haha) trope into something much more interesting

with the semiotics of aroaceness already in place, these affect how we read the foundations for the rest of his narrative and where it's going. quite simply, it's one of the biggest factors right now that make all his other story beats more resonant and interesting, depending of course on where they take it...

9. his smile. since we've gotten deep enough into meta territory now that we're in hc/future theorising country -- the smile is of course a mask, that's known to everyone. there's a lot of future opportunities for how to utilise that alongside aroaceness-as-theme-for-him. aroaceness, or just "someone where there is a noticeable lack of romantic (and hinted at sexual) interest," is usually coded through a certain shallowness. a pathologisation of behaviours -- which is another deeper analysis post to make at some point (jeez there's so many). Alastor is off-putting, yes, but he's also very confident and charming when he wants to be, he can put people at ease despite themselves (see, Charlie). It's a very interesting mask to give someone who's aroace, because it makes him complicated, rather than a simple ableist "point at the weirdo with no friends, that's our Outsider/killer."

(it also hearkens back to the humanising factor, in that his shallowness isn't because he's aroace, it's because he doesn't know how to be vulnerable with people as the person he is in a world that is incredibly amatonormative and focused on sex)

His smile can be unnerving, but it can also be disarming, give others the illusion that he's in control, make it impossible to guess his emotions (etc. basically what he said to Charlie)

so quite simply, his smile as a twisted distortion of society's demands upon people. he's not being abrupt, aloof, asocial, unkempt, or all the things aroaceness is often stereotyped as. he's performing the most acceptable normative person you can imagine. his surface is unscratcheable because of normative ideals

it's a very fun, unique-to-this-story way of potentially telling an aroace narrative. I'd be interested in what it takes to make him drop it (if he can, or if the story takes the route of accepting that he can't -- the man who laughs kinda vibes) and whether that will tie into a piece of his story that itself takes on aroace proportions (perhaps related to worrying for others in a non-romantic way, perhaps in relation to being able to or being forced to be vulnerable in a non-romantic/non-sexual way, etcetc).

Potentials:

we haven't seen him around the aro/ace aroace colours yet as far as I can remember, which is a fun, easy way to signpost (see, Vox flashing the bisexual flag on his screen)

since we've had an "ace in the hole" joke, I think we could have an aro/arrow-based pun in there as well, maybe even as a deconstruction of when they're used in romantic ways -- (no aro going through his heart, too aro for cupid's arrow, idk I'm spitballing here) or as literal arrows in some way. also someone's gotta call him aces at one point, right? just cos? I feel like the "<2" emoji might be too niche (heck, maybe all of this is, but that's part of the point -- all of this should be ways we're able to signpost aro and ace and aroace characters), but there's characters who know modern emoji and online lingo

other asexual symbols I know of include stating a preference for cake or pizza over sex and/or dating and the black and white rings (worn respectively on right an left middle fingers, although since they only have four fingers in this world...)

I've really enjoyed "clueless cannibal about modern lingo" Alastor comics, including the one about serving cunt and the one about eating ass both by @nouverx. it goes nicely on from his being confused about "ace in the hole," with that HH style sexual comedy. there's a whole bunch of that one could play with

speaking of slang, confirmed bachelor has often meant gay, but the aro/ace community and the gay community has overlapped as long as anyone has been non-conforming. @creepysora suggested a gentleman never kisses and tells, either as Alastor being unaware that it's actually about sex, or as an aware deconstruction of the phrase that gives him the space (similar to confirmed bachelor) to sneakily go, "go mind your own fucking business 😊!" I'm sure there are others that could fulfill a similar purpose of allowing Alastor a certain kind of old-timey buffer

similar to the episode of Bojack Horseman that had Todd visit his girlfriend's parents (both Todd and his GF are asexual and not out to her parents), which depicted allosexuality from the perspective of asexuality as something nonsensical and Other, perhaps having something from Alastor's POV in which he's the observer of the rites of romance and/or sex in a way that shows their strangeness when one sits outside of their tenets

would kind of like to see him killing/hurting people for being pushy, either when alive or dead. I already see a lot of potentials for his past as a serial killer to be framed from an aroace POV, but I especially like this idea, similar to how Hannibal often targets people for being "rude."

more on what I was saying about aroaceness as a humanising trait -- more on how this affected him in life, how he feels about Vox's consistent obsessive behaviour, how it potentially makes it harder to imagine his place in a group setting like the hotel (which is rapidly being paired off into romantic couples -- often a nightmare scenario for aromantics), more on how potentially learning these words or something better to describe himself can make it possible for him to assert boundaries without shutting everyone out to a large extent, and also, tbh, to put Big Expectations onto a story that's barely even started, I hope that none of this takes away his less savoury traits necessarily. I hope he's still kind of an asshole, but simply that he is grounded in himself enough to be able to really believe in Charlie's work/aims and support her in them for more reasons than his own ends, and can admit to really caring for something

reiterating: I am interested in how his smile-as-mask will play into all of this

Any symbolism, metaphor, coding, and straight-up telling I've missed in the show itself? Any you'd want to see in upcoming seasons?

#alastor #aroace alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel meta #i keep saying *there's another analysis here* let's see if I ever do

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eddo-tensei · 11 months

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The Power of Love according to Season 5 of Miraculous

Something disturbing dawned on me concerning...a lot of the development in Season 5 and it comes down to one thing: Love.

At first, Andre and Felix getting redeemed while Chloe gets sent off to the worst fate the show would allow didn't make a lot of sense. The only thing I could get from the writers was just that "Chloe bad, so everyone else good." It was stupid, but it wasn't insidious. At least, not that insidious at first. And then the finale with Gabriel happened and while it took me a while to process my frustrations with this, something finally clicked. Not only concerning that, but some of the other developments I've seen.

Felix getting another chance to the point of JOINING the heroes in the new universe seemed like nonsense until you look at what happened before that. He was someone who Astruc went out of his way to bury in the narrative and was exclusively causing trouble for everyone up to and including GENOCIDE...until he showed his love to Kagami. Suddenly, his actions are seen as righteous and his backstory of being abused by his father was justification for his actions. You see, he loved Kagami and he also apparently loved Adrien too because they were "the same."

Andre was basically just some corrupt politician who was also a pathetic snob. Then when Zoe came in, we suddenly get all of these humanizing bits about how Chloe totally mistreated him (because apparently, not having the guts to say no to your daughter is mistreatment) and when he divorced Audrey, he gets Zoe because he's someone he could be happy with. A true familial love unlike the one he had with Chloe.

Chloe, meanwhile, doesn't love anyone as far as the writers are concerned. Any genuine connection she might have in either the platonic, familial, or the romantic sense, whether it'd be to Adrien, Sabrina, Zoe or Ladybug, are shown to be either fake or so utterly shallow, it doesn't count as "love." With that, everything she does is absolutely reprehensible and doesn't deserve a shred of forgiveness even if it's clear she's a neglected child who needed help. BUT, because she "doesn't love anyone", she doesn't get redemption and deserves to be sent away with a parent who doesn't love her either. Same with Lila, she doesn't love anyone at all and in fact, just jumps from family to family purely to keep up her manipulations.

Finally, we have Gabriel, who had done nothing but sheltered, belittled, and outright ABUSED Adrien as well as commit a multitude of horrid crimes throughout the series. His actions constantly escalated in awfulness throughout the series, even showing that he doesn't care if he destroys the universe to get what he wants. Yet there was always this trait he possessed. His love for Emilie and that ended up coming to the forefront in the finale. Marinette, who had Gabriel dead to rights, decided at the last moment to try and appeal to his humanity because she knows he loved Emilie and in her mind, that love is enough grounds for her to offer him one chance to step up and help. Then when Gabriel opts to betray Marinette and starts the wish, he tells her at the last moment to try and help Adrien remember all of the times he "tried to be a good father," which is apparently an indicator that he actually LOVED Adrien too. THAT ended up being why Marinette decided to lie about Gabriel by saying he died fighting Monarch and went as far as to try and tell Adrien to remember him as a good man. All because she knew Gabriel "loved" him.

This tells me something distressing. Now, the concept of "Love Redeems" is something I'm not at all against and is in fact common in a lot of stories I like. However, it's what Miraculous does with this concept in Season 5 that angers me. The message of Miraculous ends up giving in its grand finale for the Agreste arc isn't that love can help people find the way to kindness. It's that anything you do can be justified as long as you do it for "love." It doesn't matter if you purposely get a cab driver in trouble, attempt to sabotage a date that your crush is in, put together a project that tries to commercialize air, betray someone to help a terrorist, commit genocide, cause untold amounts of damage to your town and beyond, or even destroy the universe! As long as you love someone, everything you do can be justified. Except when we decide that you don't love ANYONE, then we'll do everything in our power to show that all of your connections don't count as love so you can have the worst punishment we could possibly muster. Regardless of intent, that's how the writers ended up describing the Power of Love in Season Five of Miraculous and that's wretched to me.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #mlb #ml writers salt #ml salt #chloe bourgeois #gabriel agreste #felix fathom #felix graham de vanily #ml argos #kagami tsuguri #emilie graham de vanily #emilie agreste #andre bourgeois #zoe lee #lila rossi #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste

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carefulfears · 1 year

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so i really love whenever you call mulder & scully best friends. wanna talk about your top 5 favorite moments of their friendship?

DO I EVER

1/ little green men

they have a secret code. they have their own language.

when mulder gets to his desk that morning, the photo of samantha is tipped over, and he knows that this means to meet scully at the watergate. which, first of all, is unbelievably dorky. these two work in the same building. these two have cell phones.

but they have been split up and reassigned and it is not a phase you guys it is the end of the world!!!!

when he arrives in the parking garage, he asks what she wants, and she responds, "to know that you're alright."

they have a secret code and their own language and for nothing more than to check in.

(shoutout to the depression hair era, they are so funny for both getting bangs the moment they were separated. that's how you know things are really bad for the girlies.)

when he sinks down to the floor and tells her the george hale story, she crouches down next to him, listens, tells him not to give up.

you can tell that it makes her uneasy to see him defeated, to see him doubting himself and what he believes in. she's almost trying to convince him of aliens in that moment, telling him that he's seen so much and reminding him of samantha. trying to spark something in him.

they have a secret code, they have their own language, and when he leaves town, he buys the plane ticket under a name that only she will recognize. she cracks his computer password in three tries.

earlier, after skinner questions scully, he tells CSM that she's telling the truth, she really doesn't know where mulder is. "because if she knew, she wouldn't be so worried about him."

they aren't as hard to decipher as they want to believe.

PAUSE!!!!! this is the cuntiest thing he's ever done. the sunglasses, the denim, the boots, the dangerous lack of exit strategy...anyway

she interprets his clues, she follows without obligation, they go back together. hand in his hair, not giving up, just like she started the episode.

in the end, they have nothing. the hail mary trip resulted in empty tables and silent tape recordings.

one thing i didn't notice until i rewatched this one the other day is that it's not when he says "i still have you" that she takes his hand.

it's when he switches the tape from the record of his failed excursion to his actual assignment, hours of listening to slimy men talk about strippers.

she listens with him for a moment before shaking her head, and squeezing his hand. she does understand that this isn't what he wants to be doing, and that it's disheartening.

2/ tooms

i could list every season one episode here. i could do a whole other post just about season one. i could do a whole other post just about season one, and include every episode. but i guess i will settle for this one.

this is my favorite season, and this is my favorite MSR.

him waving the pine tree air freshener in her face when she said he smells 😭😭😭

squeeze was all about the choice between climbing the ladder and the "out there" but "good" work of the basement, with all of the ridicule and consequence that come with it.

its sequel episode is about the aftermath of that decision, what it means to choose the side of the victim, to stop reaching for personal success.

(this shot is so beautiful, her face through CSM's smoke)

tooms opens with scully in a negative performance review, skinner (in his very first scene!! we love you skinman) going over her reports, CSM lurking in the corner.

the two share a look, then warn scully against having too much of an open mind, telling her that it is her "responsibility to see that these cases are by the book"

"by the book" becomes the theme of the episode, with the phrase repeating multiple times throughout.

this isn't the first time that the show has explored this topic, with young at heart also centering a debate of “by the book” protocol, what it really means, and who it really serves. ending with this final dialogue:

SCULLY: Mulder, I know what you did wasn't by the book.

MULDER: Tells you a lot about the book, doesn't it?

“by the book” isn’t an easy order to follow when you have a partner who doesn’t believe in it, and you aren’t sure you do either.

it’s not an easy order to follow, for the navy captain’s daughter who worships authority.

she does try though, and she's initially frustrated with mulder's behavior in the case. she tells him that he "sounded so....." at the trial, and she's reluctant to pursue his methods without approval from the bureau.

ultimately, when she comes to bring mulder something to eat on his unauthorized stakeout, she tells him that what he's doing is not proper surveillance protocol, and he good-naturedly accuses her of peddling "the book."

she responds, "this is not about doing it by the book, this is about you not having slept for three days." and tells him that he is inevitably going to get hurt.

to her, it's not about following the rules or pressure from the bureau or respecting authority, it's about making sure he's okay.

when she tells him to go home, that she'll take over the stakeout, he smiles and shakes his head (it's almost the same look that he gives her years later in redux ii, when she tells him to lay it all on her. just less tears.)

and i know that we tend to focus on the next part of this scene, but this line stands out to me too, as he declines because he doesn't want her to get "in trouble."

he doesn't want her to break the rules or disobey authority, and he still believes she'll be head of the bureau someday.

it kinda makes me teary, this stupefied look on his face at her response. when she looks at him unflinching and says, "mulder, i wouldn't put myself on the line for anybody but you."

they are so kind to each other. they really don't care about official reprimands in files or welfare protocols; they each just want the other to get some rest, to have a bright future.

he relents, allows her to take over, on the condition that she calls "if anything happens. immediately. i'll be here." and suggests she catch the sports talk radio show

she bends down to give him one last smile and eye roll as she exits the car

and makes a joke to herself while walking back to her own. best best best friends.

3/ tempus fugit

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR SPECIALAGENTDANAKATHERINESCULLYYYYY

what better way to celebrate life than annoying the hell out of your best friend on her birthday?

the way he clearly gave the waiters her name and this snowball and sparkler and sang "special agent dana katherine scully" while they all sang "happy birthday dana" is one of his most embarrassingly extra moments and it never fails to make me laugh

she rolls her eyes at him, but the way she stares when he's not looking says so much. they both know why this year gets sparklers and song when last year didn't. they both know there might not be a next year.

he's literally never been more irritatingly overjoyed lmao. and he brought presents! ("oh, you've got to be kidding me" "just something that reminded me of you")

he said "i didn't know it was your birthday, scully!" with a wrapped gift in his pocket, always prepared with a smile and a cover story

he does this same thing in memento mori, after getting the call to come to the hospital, when his first words of the episode are "i stole these from some guy with a broken leg down the hall. he won't be able to catch me." about the flowers we watched him come through the front doors holding

he clearly puts thought into these gestures, but everything is so fragile. neither of them are comfortable with what too much sincerity would mean, how limited it all is.

but they find little ways to give to each other anyway, they hang out in bars and roll their eyes and discuss the meaning behind a keychain.

if this is the last birthday, maybe it's worth a little vulnerability (and annoying song and dance), that he did it up right.

4/ one breath

another Mulder Gift™️ entry. god, the sweetness here is just overwhelming. he is so strange and tries so hard.

this whole scene is one of my favorites of the series, but i love this little moment so much.

it's so inadequate, in the end. to see someone that you thought you'd lost, your most important person, who was gone for so long, and have nothing more to give them than a shitty VHS sports tape.

but what else can you do? he's so quiet and self-conscious in this moment. he raced to the top of mountains and stood on broken cable cars and choked a man and wore her necklace around his neck for months and wept on the floor. he had the strength of her beliefs, and he prayed. he held her hand by her bedside after they pulled the plug.

so much goes unsaid between them, because how can you say it in words? how can you do anything but smile and buy something stupid at the gift shop?

she makes a joke while he smiles at the floor, but it's not a joke, not really. he's there and he's giving her whatever he can and he's cracking jokes, and she knew there was a reason to live. that's it right there.

5/ detour

GO, GIRL!

this is a best friends episode. this is a "we survived that hospital and we refuse to spend our one wild and precious life at the annual FBI teamwork seminar, if you need us, we'll be lost in the forest" episode.

look at her trying not to laugh while he's making sarcastic comments at her in the backseat. can you imagine carpooling with these two? they are forever passing notes and whispering behind backs.

she is not making it to the teamwork seminar. she is not getting her wine and cheese, either. she is looking for mothmen in western florida.

they think they're so much better than that communication exercise, just to make vague innuendo in a motel room.

they tell each other all about native species and how ticks can halt their metabolism and the livestock that was killed in a town 30 years ago. she teases him about his filing system.

neither of them tire of bashing the hell out of that teamwork seminar.

they talk about death. about searching for meaning in life. about which flintstones character they relate to the most. they swap dirty jokes.

she fusses over his grave injury (a dislocated shoulder) and holds him. sings to him so that he'll know she's still there.

a few years down the road, she'll sing that same song to their baby, on one of her last days with him. she'll sing to him about this night, about his dad, about her favorite memories.

sitting there together in that forest in florida, they have already started to carry the weight of near-misses. of lost time, of almosts, of purposeful disease.

they have come a long way and taken on a lot, in the years since the parked car outside tooms' house and the garage at the watergate.

but they have yet to be separated longer than 90 days. they have yet to lose a child. they have yet to plan funerals and prison breaks.

there's something about that time, that ability to just sit in the woods and talk about everything, looking for mothmen, that is so precious and so special.

and when she tells him that night that she had struggled to find meaning, that's where it is.

#thank you for this #dream assignment #they ARE best friends #and it's my favorite #msr #asks #little green men #tooms #tempus fugit #one breath #detour #kae meta

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misc-obeyme · 4 months

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Hi CC! Hope you’re doing good. 🐚🦀 here!

These past few months I can’t help but ponder the demon brothers’ sock-wearing habits, especially for sleep. So here are some of my notes!

Lucifer: Old man vibes old man socks, through all seasons except summer because it might get too hot.

Mammon: One that changes depending on the temperature, cold means sock and vice versa. Although I do think that he’d get those really thick and fluffy ones to match his hair.

Levi: Going with the entire “reptiles are cold-blooded” thing, socks. All day everyday and season, he needs all the warmth he can get. Probably gets ones with his favorite characters on it but never wears them for preservation purposes.

Satan: No socks all year round but is someone (you/mc) gifts him a fair of cat ones he’s either going to try and preserve them or wear them until they have holes.

Asmodeus: Given that his preferred outfit for sleep is just… nude I’d say no socks. Unless if he wants to tease a shy mc, maybe something along the lines of: “Oh don’t be so shy mc, darling. I’m not completely naked now am I?~”

Belphie: I’d say that Belphie really doesn’t have much of a preference. He’s the demon of sloth and he is a professional in every aspect. Although I do imagine him sleeping with inly one sock to get a better temperature range when sleeping.

Beel: I can see him wear really fluffy socks like Mammon but otherwise nothing out of the ordinary. Will try to eat the socks with food patterns.

I’m not too sure about the dateables but Solomon’s definitely giving old man vibes and I dan see him getting socks with funny patterns. Maybe Luke also wears them because he’s scared of the monsters under his bed nipping at his feet.

Hope this was a fun read, what do you think? Would love to compare notes, and have a great day!

Well hello, 🐚🦀 anon! It's been a minute since I've seen you in my ask box! I hope you're doing well!

I am staunchly against wearing socks to bed... I like to be FREE lol. (To this end, I also don't wear pants. It's all oversized t-shirts for me.)

Anyway, I totally see Lucifer as a sock wearer. I mean, we had that whole saga in the daily chats about his missing socks. You can't tell me that old man doesn't cherish his socks. So I fully agree with you on that one lol.

I was under the impression that Mammon also sleeps in the nude? I think there was a daily chat where he said he only wears Devilish No 5 to bed which is a freakin' perfume. He's such a dork but for some reason that makes me love him more. But I also think that Mammon likes to be comfortable, so I think he'd wear socks (and possibly other pjs) if it was cold. Also you know I don't think he could handle sleeping nude with MC (at least not at first) and I also think he often sneaks into MC's bed. So therefore I tend to imagine him as being one of those pajama pants and tank top types. So I think he would absolutely wear socks if it was cold.

YES to cold blooded Levi always!! If they had animal forms and Levi could become a lil snake I think it'd be SO CUTE if he just curled up inside a sock. I'd carry him around in his little sock in my pocket all day tee hee~ But anyway, I very much think that he's always cold and needs socks all the time. If he's in demon form, he should have a tail sock too.

Satan can't resist the cat socks. I don't know why but I agree with you that he wouldn't wear socks to bed. He would probably find them irritating lol. He should still get a tail sock though just because that's adorable, but his is like... I mean I know we all kinda headcanon it as bone now, but it looks like metal. That thing would probably shred a sock.

Oh, Asmo. Definitely only wearing socks in order to tease MC, I agree with that 1000%. I mean you could wear socks if you sleep nude I suppose, but I think Asmo would prefer to go sockless in such an instance.

Oh yeah I think Belphie could sleep no matter what anyway. It's probably just whatever's most convenient at the moment.

I don't know why, but I kinda headcanon Beel as being naturally very warm. Just absolute furnace. So I see him not really wearing socks to bed. Though I like the idea of him wearing fluffy ones because that is super cute lol.

Diavolo wears Lucifer's socks to bed. Nobody can convince me otherwise.

Barbatos for some reason strikes me as a no socks type. I don't know why. But he also needs a tail sock because wow that would be so adorable I think I'd combust. He would only wear something like that if MC got it for him, though, I think.

I think it could go either way with Simeon. I think he's probably one of those who wears socks depending on the weather. If he's cold, he puts some on. If he's not, he doesn't. It just makes sense.

I agree about Solomon and the patterned socks. I think he'd find that amusing. I would try to find him socks that have pact mark patterns on them because I personally would find that absolutely hilarious. This is because I have a terrible sense of humor, but I think he'd indulge me and wear them lol.

Ahhh Luke wearing socks to protect his little toes from getting snatched is so cute! Headcanon accepted.

This was a fun read, thank you for bringing it to me! It was fun to think about this! I hope you also have a lovely day!

#I myself have quite a collection of socks #mostly because my mom keeps gifting me funny ones #I'm not complaining they make me laugh #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #🐚🦀 anon #misc answers

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lewkwoodnco · 6 months

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Now That We Don't Talk - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: very very brief suicidal mention, sooooo much writer's block hhhh (the seasonal depression is depressing), (angst but diluted if that makes sense) add/remove yourself from my taglist in the link beloooow ALSO

🎄Special Announcement! I'll be doing a twelve days of Christmas fic series (1 songfic fic a day leading up to Christmas) BUT I will also be accepting extra holiday-themed requests (if any)!🎄

(speaking of the holidays, thinking of switching to a santa-themed george icon soon hmmm), wc 3.1k

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 3.5 | Ch 4 | Ch 5

TAGLIST | MATERLIST

Moving had been a surprisingly smooth process that she remembered little of. She had to take care to not think too much about the ornaments she was packing or the boxes she was taping shut or the lonely town she was numbly driving towards, lest the rest of her catch up to the grief weighing her down. Her supervisor had looked plenty confused when she explained where she was transferring to, and muttered something about not knowing if there were any visitors there.

As steep as the change was from working in central London to a significantly sleepier town, she seemed to be adjusting fine. In fact, she was liking the peace and quiet. Or at least, she would, soon enough. She'd learn the right habits, like finding contentment in the stagnant void that descended on her windows far too quickly every evening, the same way she'd unlearn bad habits, like him. So no, her biggest problem was hardly the early sunsets here, but was actually what everyone wanted to talk to her about when she called. The one thing everyone - her old teammates, colleagues, friends - wanted to make sure she knew.

"The gala was fantastic this year - though not as fun without you, of course -"

"You'll never believe who showed up."

"He looked very sharp in his suit. He cleans up nice, I suppose - Anthony Lockwood, I mean."

"They've become quite the celebrities, that Lockwood & Co., though the other two don't seem to tolerate the cameras like he does."

"Oh, you should have seen it. Say what you will about Lockwood but does he know how to make an entrance!"

"Were you at the gala this year?"

She sighed for what must have been the fifth time that day. "No, Ted, I was not. You were at my farewell party, remember?"

"Tha' was for you?"

"Goodbye, Ted."

"Wait! You've seen the pictures, haven't you?"

"No, I haven't, because contrary to popular belief, I am not obsessed with evrything that goes on at Fittes."

"Well, we had a tiptop chocolate fountain this year. Didn't get clogged once and looked absolutely gorgeous. Anywho, I've recently stumbled upon this smashing business opportunity involving chocolate fountains - they're selling like hot cakes, I tell you! - and I'd love to spread the wealth."

"Theodore, you haven't joined another MLM, have you?"

"What is an MLM, other than an opportunity to invest in yourself?"

"Don't make me phone your mother."

The call ended rather abruptly after that. Only Lucy, as always, was an angel.

"I take it you've heard plenty about him?"

"Who? Oh, him. Yes, more than plenty."

"I thought you might. He has...quite the presence, so the papers wanted to interview him, and he agreed - "

" - obviously - "

"And I think they asked him about you at some point."

Her mouth dried. She struggled to find her voice, forcing it to stay casually disinterested. "Hm? What did he say?"

"Absolutely nothing. First and probably last time I've seen him stunned speechless. Naturally, it's all anyone can talk about."

"Mhm."

"He hasn't talked about you, if you're wondering. Sees it coming from a mile away every time George and I try to bring it up. It's so stupid; we know it, he knows it, and he's always in a foul mood. He keeps thinking, these days...Y/N?"

"I don't care."

"No one would blame you if you did."

"I don't."

"So how are you holding up?"

"Well, Luce, I felt happiness outside of external validation for the first time in...ever, then three months later I'm crying in my bathtub wishing I would die, and now I'm miles away from everyone I ever knew and it's always dark outside and I'm always miserable. I'm doing great."

She could hear the exhaustion in the crackling static of the telephone. It occurred to her that she wasn't much acting all that cheerful either.

"If it makes you feel any better, I think he half-expected to see you there."

She inhaled sharply and sat up in her armchair so fast she could feel a cramp curling in her neck. She didn't dare believe Lucy's words. "Really?" she wanted to breathe into the telephone, and revel in dormant delusions, if only for a moment. Instead, she gingerly sank back into the chair, continuing in a flat voice.

"Well, I don't care about any of that now. Oh, I'm sick of it. All of it. If I never hear his name again for as long as I live, it'll be still be too soon. How's George doing?"

After she hung up, she laid in her chair, watching the shadows from her shutters stretch and fold over her furniture as the sun set. She was thinking about the last party she had been to, a yacht party where some of Fittes' and Rotwell's biggest investors were in attendance. How Lockwood had managed to score an invite was beyond her, but what intrigued her more was the cab ride they shared back to Portland Row.

She had been half-dozing off when she felt a hand cover hers. As she blinked at him blearily, she noticed the rigid tension in his spine, as if poised and waiting for an attack. He was clutching her hand purposefully, as if holding off on warning her about something malevolent that was consuming him. She couldn't see his face, which began to feel no different from the cold, hard window pane it was peering out of.

She stirred, distantly unnerved by his impersonality. He glanced at her, apologetically retracting his hand with a sheepish smile. But that look of consternation remained on his face as he turned back to the window with a furrowed brow, with the air of waiting for something. He visibly relaxed as they approached Portland Row, but she couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling even by the time they reached the doorstep.

"You all right?" she was asking, while Lockwood fumbled with their keys.

"'Course. Why wouldn't I be?"

She didn't respond, and the two of them watched him wrench at the key in the lock, trying to steady his mildly trembling fingers.

"Key turns the other way."

He paused his efforts, and after a second or two turned the key the other way. The door slid open smoothly with a click. He held it open, but she just looked at him expectantly. He sighed.

"I'm fine, I promise. I just...get a little nervous around some parts of London."

"Which parts?"

"Some."

"Scared of what?"

"A few things."

"Why?"

"For fun. Look, I'm freezing out here. Can we just drop this?"

That was more than a mild exaggeration; the sun had only just set and the air was still pleasantly balmy. But he looked so beseechingly, and it didn't take much for her to relent when it came to Lockwood, so they stepped inside and shrugged their coats off in silence.

"I'll tell you some day. I'm sure I will."

That was some day too far away. Now she'll never know if, or why he ever felt like that. Or rather, she wouldn't know when he would feel like that. But it was no matter. It was none of her business then, and it was even less of her business now.

She had mostly forgotten about her conversation with Lucy by the following week, which was why her parcel came as a bit of a surprise, especially since she'd mentioned being swamped by a mountain of upcoming cases.

Y/N -

I was thinking about our call the other day. On a completely unrelated note, here's about every gossip rag from the past month I could find at Arif's.

Love, Lucy.

She was beginning to see what was so appealing about these magazines. As ruthless as they could be, they sure knew how to sell a pipe dream to common folk with less exciting lives. The gala was clearly as glitzy and glamorous as it was every year, and the articles held an air of intrigue now that she was quite separate from Fittes. But that quivering excitement became somewhat muffled as she flipped through the glossy pages.

The Anthony Lockwood she saw now looked worlds apart from the Lockwood she left behind. His well-fitting suit, megawatt smile and carefully styled hair made him look expensive in a way that destabilised her. She flipped through photograph after photograph of him looking jarringly luxurious besides walls of text effusing about the success of their latest case, and what an honour it must have been to be personally invited by Marissa Fittes herself. It weighed at the pit in her stomach to see this unfamiliar silhouette of a friend who was become increasingly unattainable, speeding along roads to prosperity faster than she could ever keep up with.

She sifted through the other rags. The most extensive feature was a few pages long, and was centered more on the exciting, up-and-coming agency that was Lockwood & Co. rather than a specific case. There were pictures from their most recent cases, and in each one he looked unnaturally distinct from the last, but in every single one he oozed an appealingly languid charisma. It was good to see him doing so well. She was happy for him. Or she would be, tomorrow, when she had the strength for it. Lockwood was unbearable in a way that made him perfect for a life in the public eye, a life for which she was somehow always deficient. She traced a too-long strand of hair flopped on his forehead in one of the photographs, as if she could magically straighten it out.

She could see him now, thumbing through the pages with an approving tilt to his head, limbs folded uncomfortably in the armchair he always insisted on sharing with her. "No such thing as bad press," he'd claim absent-mindedly, his too-long hair flopping impractically. And she'd watch him with bruised eyes like she always did, wishing for nothing more in that moment shared with him. In other words, wishing for nothing short of what she could never have.

Maybe it was some lingering wish to break herself before he beat her to it. Because that was all it was; dodging blows, lying through pretty teeth, racing ahead to pull one over on him, cursing the feel of his breath on her. There was simply no calm, no respite, only the all-consuming experience of becoming wrapped up in him and losing bits and pieces of herself which would never again be truly hers.

She picked up the telephone again. It felt too heavy in her hand. Numbly, she spun the dial as if on autopilot, keying in her mother's phone number. The dial tone comforted her in some twisted yet cathartic acknowledgement of the emptiness inside of her.

Looking at it now she could see the distinct air of mystery that engulfed Lockwood and clouded her vision. He was never quite fully present; a part of him was always tucked away to be kept secret in some dark corner, and her mind was only too happy to extrapolate, to construct this most desirable yet entirely mythical figment. She felt ragged, winded and worn from battling reality day after day, all alone. And most of all, she felt so very stupid.

Her mother was saying that she had made the right decision. Not that she needed any reminding. Of course her life had taken an upward swing ever since; she'd be a fool to think otherwise. She was positively paralysed with liberty, bedridden with joy, simply immobile with ecstasy!

She was slowly but surely going very insane. Now making eyes at each other, now disconnect, now love, now heartache, now this, now that, but never any peace. Maybe it was some lingering wish to shatter and let the pent up misery dissipate.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Months passed. The holiday season arrived, and she choked through the November blues with shivering bones and clammy hands. Even with the slight uptick in visitors, as was expected in the colder months, her life provided little to distract her from her own ghosts under the floorboards. So when she received a consultancy request from Fittes one morning, she had written back and mailed her response all while still holding the jam knife.

The train was crowded and noisy with the bustle of the holidays, but as it chugged along through the fields of snow, she couldn't help but perk up ever so slightly at every sigh and creak of its wheels. There was a spring in her step all the way to Fittes headquarters, where she was supposed to collect her apartment key.

A tall, indistinct figure was walking out of the revolving doors as she approached. She flinched when she realised who it was - Lockwood, who didn't seem much happier to see her either. He looked mostly well, though the corners of his mouth were a little strained, his face flushed in the cold.

"...Y/N?"

"Lockwood."

"You're...home?"

"Yeah. Um, how have you been?"

"Good...good. Busy. As busy as winter gets."

He was wearing a different coat. It was quite similar to his old one, but this one was thicker and more structured, and looked like it was at least somewhat effective in keeping the brisk winter wind out. He looked foreign and unfamiliar in a way he hadn't since...since the Investors Party.

It had taken her a while to pick his face out of the pretentious crowd, given how preoccupied she was with weaving through the thicket of people. It had taken her a eyes minute to adjust to the almost nauseatingly charismatic silhouette of an especially-chuffed Lockwood in a newly tailored but otherwise identical suit. She tried to give him a reproaching look, but there was something infectious in his smooth ease as he larked about in his prime which made her lips twitch despite herself as he waded through the crowds.

"You really shouldn't be here."

"You're clearly not drunk enough yet."

"How did you even get in? This is invitation-only."

"Had an invite, didn't I?"

She pursed her lips, shaking her head slightly. He was hopelessly incorrigible in an oddly fascinating way. Her voice dropped to a murmur as she felt herself begin to relent.

"I ought to...tell someone about you."

"That you're secretly in love with me?"

"That we have an illegal stowaway."

"You're not going to rat me out, are you?"

The pleading look on his face was enough to give her pause. She was already beginning to regret her decision, but he looked so vivacious it was difficult to stay disapproving for long.

"Excellent. Now, would you be so good as to point me in the direction of the bigger spenders?"

They spend the next few hours laughing and entertaining the many important men on the boat and their great deal of important thoughts. She'd excuse herself towards the end of every conversation to leave Lockwood and the glimmer in his eye to close a deal. For someone so adept at climbing the corporate ladder, she was surprisingly poor at fulfilling these adjacent duties.

She hated every second of it, and she drank as much as she could without raising eyebrows to make it all halfway palatable, but it was all worth it then. He had wanted to stay for as long as it would have been polite, so when they finally left, long after the media had made their rounds at the event, his jacket was folded over his left arm and his hand was delicately holding hers.

When she was stuck in her drafty cottage on the edge of nowhere, she'd think about the feel of his fingers curling around her palm more than it was appropriate, and wonder how she ever thought she was somehow better off here.

But that evening's sense of camraderie was long gone. Now, she regarded him coolly, holding him at arm's length. They may have had a rough falling out, but that didn't mean they couldn't still be friends. Just friends. Nothing more. But the vaguely intimate look in Lockwood's eye told her he was in no mood to entertain any kind of platonic notions.

"I didn't know you were back."

She relented. It was the season of giving, after all.

"Only for a while. Fittes hired me as a consultant for a few months."

He blinked at her. "You could have called."

"I didn't think you'd be interested."

"Of course I'd be interested. I'm always interested when it comes to you."

She sighed sharply. It was so easy to get swept up and believe him when he said things like that, that she wondered how she found the strength to leave. He was a bastard, a ne'er-do-well who only knew how to break her heart after promising sweet, simple luxuries in whispers over expanses of skin. She made her lips tremble, her pulse quicken, her heart shake in all the worst ways.

But underneath all that, love was there. Love was there...still.

"Ready to go?"

They turned in unison towards a strikingly beautiful girl with glossy raven curls walking out of the revolving doors. The girl's smile only slipped a fraction as she shook her hand, and she was distantly aware of making some kind of clumsy introduction. They stuttered through some stunted small talk, during which all she was aware of was the blood roaring in her ears that gave the whole scene a distantly muffled feel. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Well, this was...lovely. Shall we go, then?"

The girl turned to leave, but some semblance of hesitation prevented her from pulling Lockwood along with her.. His face still had that same confused look.

"You could have called," he repeated tonelessly, like a broken record. The girl's presence made the back of her neck smart and prickle uncomfortably.

"I might, later."

"Bye. Nice meeting you."

"Nice meeting you too."

"We're home all day."

The last one was from Lockwood.

"Just...if you want to drop by. So that Luce and George don't have my head on a platter by supper."

"Goodbye, Lockwood."

He was captivating in a way that made her want to keep him all to herself. No one needed to intrude on this tantalising secret they shared. It was at that moment that she made the very unfortunate realisation that she didn't need to say it out loud to make what she had been screaming from the rooftops of her heart any more real - him and her would forever be unfinished business.

And nothing she could do could make the palpitations of her heart any less real either.

As the life she once dreamed of walked away from her, all she was acutely aware of was that it was a lingering wish, some half-thought dream, to sit opposite him in a chilly kitchen on blustery mornings, watching him drink his tea while she got drunk on him.

TAGLIST: @novelizt @avdiobliss @dangelnleif @mischivana @mitskiswift99 @houseoftwistedspirits

#lockwood & co #fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood imagine #fanfic #lockwood x y/n #taylor swift #1989 vault tracks #taylor swift 1989 #1989 tv #1989 #1989 taylor's version #now that we don't talk

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dwonfilm · 2 months

Text

Come hell or high water. | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Looming over the Winchesters and [Y/N] is the war between heaven and hell. Dean will ultimately be faced with a choice he’d never be able to make. What will happen?

This will be a multi-part story, not necessarily set in a specific season but around 4-5 would be the best fit.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Mentions: Sam Winchester, Lucifer, John Winchester

Warnings: Lots of angst, sadness, etc, supernatural level violence mentioned, injuries

Here’s Part III if you haven’t read.

Flashbacks are in bold.

Part IV:

“I’m here to inform you, Dean Winchester, that you’ve got an incredible choice on your hands. One that will alter everything you stand for and everything you believe in—a choice that will tear you apart inside until you’re asking to be Michael’s meat suit.” [Y/N]’s stomach dropped hearing this, because that meant it was something bigger than even her intuition could’ve imagined. “Yeah? What’s this ‘important choice’ then huh?” Dean asked, Sam watching from the other side. He had just as bad a feeling about this as [Y/N] did—neither had any chance to speak up though, Lucifer answering immediately. “It’s simple really. You, oh you’ve got the choice of who gets a one way ticket to pain and suffering. Dean Winchester, it’s your decision who gets sent to hell here today. Little Sammy-boy..” he paused, gesturing towards the younger of the Winchester brothers. “or..” Dean’s heart was racing, knowing exactly what was coming but dreading having to hear it said aloud. “..your beautiful, so very beautiful, girlfriend [Y/N].”

It had been several minutes since Lucifer dropped the biggest bombshell imaginable on the three hunters. Dean’s ears were ringing, the only other sound in them was the rapid beating of his heart. Silence had befallen the room and to the devil? This was hilarious. It made it better that despite any worries, truly none of them could’ve seen it coming. Eventually the silence became too much and he couldn’t contain the humor he found in one of the worst situations Dean had ever been put into—bursting out laughing to break the silence. [Y/N]’s heart felt like it was beating once per minute, much like she was dying a slow and agonizing death, when it fact it was racing so fast it would alarm anyone. Sam’s eyes held a mixture between anger and pain, knowing that even asking this question was damning enough.. but all three knew that Lucifer meant it. No, this wasn’t a sick theoretical scenario to throw off the hunters. It wasn’t a bluff, this was a very real situation that none of them could’ve expected. It wasn’t something that even crossed their minds to happen today, or ever if honesty was in question. “Oh c’mon, why the long faces?! I mean, at least one of you will always be nice and toasty warm!” Lucifer was having a blast, finding even more humor in the reactions of the humans standing before him. Sam was the first to react, the anger taking the forefront. “What even is the endgame here Lucifer? Why would this need to happen?” He asked, eyes glancing towards his older brother and his sister-in-law by principle. He felt his heart breaking for all of them, himself included. Again this had Lucifer tilting his head back in laughter.

“I already told you, Sammy-boy. You two are far too resistant to your true purpose. A lot of your brother’s resistance is found in that beautiful [Y/H/C] haired girl standing next to him, so, I offered the choice to cut one of those lifelines because I am insanely generous.” Dean instinctively moved to stand in front of her when she was referenced by the fallen angel, not wanting Lucifer to even glance at [Y/N]. She grabbed the back of Dean’s suit jacket to steady herself and also as a way to confirm this wasn’t a nightmare. Which, unfortunately, wasn’t happening because when she grabbed the fabric nothing around her shifted. Squeezing her eyelids closed trying to hold the emotion inside, she didn’t need Lucifer seeing any kind of breakage. “I’ll go.” Dean said, almost quietly. Sam and [Y/N] opened their eyes widely at this and a silence hung in the air again for a moment. “Mmm.. no. See we’ve already had you Deany, and since your little angel on speed dial busted you free.. we don’t want you. You also can’t say yes to my idiot of a brother if you’re in the cage.” Lucifer explained. “And I can?” Sam instantly fired back, venom dripping from his words. “I mean.. you could because I would be oh-so close. Torturing you until your mind broke and you finally gave into the truth—you need to say yes and so does Dean.” Now the devil was getting irritated, eyes dancing along the three hunters in front of him. “I’m not doing this shit, this is bullshit.” Dean said, getting a little louder probably due to the irritation levels rising within him. “Oh but you have to, see this isn’t just a theoretic questionnaire. If you don’t choose, I will.” Lucifer replied, staring directly into the eldest Winchester’s eyes.

Silence again fell over the room, tension and emotion threatening to spill at any second. “Tick Tock, Winchester. I don’t have all day.” It was clear despite any form of annoyance that Lucifer was loving this entire situation. [Y/N] grips his jacket still, so tightly that her knuckles are turning white. Every bit of her is willing this to be someone kind of dream. Whether she’s asleep, whether they’ve been captured, she just needs this to be anything but reality. “You can’t just sling these kinds of things around Lucifer.” Sam thought aloud, which drew a dry laugh from the fallen angel’s lips. “I can’t? Who exactly is gonna stop me? You three?” He replied, wearing a shit-eating grin because all three hunters knew that they couldn’t stop this. No one could. It was the biggest abuse of power in a world where god couldn’t care less about what happened. “You really want to go to war with your brother that badly?” Sam pushed, taking a step towards the devil himself. “Why? What is that war gonna change? Even if you win, you really think the rest of the angels are gonna let you walk out freely?” Sam continued, emotion in every piece of his tone. Almost pleading to the humanity in Lucifer that he knew probably didn’t exist but he needed to try something. Dean couldn’t do this, it would tear him apart from the inside just like Lucifer wanted it to do.

“It’s the fate of the world and it’s the fate of the both of you—you think bargaining with the fucking devil is gonna change anything? You think that’s gonna work? Whether the three of you like it or not, this is exactly how the world works. There’s no fighting against the machine. There’s no changing fate—there’s simply delaying it and the more you delay it the more it’s gonna hurt when you lose everything and everyone that you’ve ever loved.” Lucifer had taken a step closer to Sam and they were practically face-to-face. “We don’t believe that! You can’t deny we’ve changed outcomes already, you think we’re gonna just stop there and submit to you?! Submit to this bullshit fate that you stand here preaching?!” Sam’s emotional side was spilling over into the angry side and he felt the tears welling up in his eyes. Lucifer had anger dancing in his own, staring a hole into Sam’s face when all of a sudden.. breaking the tension he.. laughed? “I see what you’re doing Sammy-boy, ah, you almost got me.” He laughed harder and shook his head. “No more distractions, no more dragging it out.” Lucifer now shifted his attention back onto Dean. “Now, back to the task at hand. Spotlight is on you Deany! Make your selection.” He teased, the enjoyment now finding its way back to the fallen angel’s facial features.

There was that uncomfortable silence again, settling over the musty room. Dean’s heart hadn’t stopped its heavy beating since Lucifer’s plan had been revealed to them. Now his palms felt a little sweaty, knowing that this was something that likely was happening. None of them seemed to have any kind of plan to weasel outta this one—which only meant one thing: someone was going to hell alongside Lucifer. Dean swallowed harshly, slowly looking between his brother and the love of his life. How was he supposed to make a decision between the two people who meant the most to him? Choose one of the two people that kept him going to face the torture, pain and suffering that he’d endured not too long ago? Said pain and suffering that he hadn’t even fully processed yet. Subtly his gaze moved between Sam and [Y/N], sighing as his brain was trying to compute having to make such a choice. He knew that’s why Lucifer had chosen this, because there was no way this kind of decision would be anything other than cataclysmic to his psyche. [Y/N] turned towards her boyfriend and saw the pain in his eyes—that one glance into his green hues and she was feeling every bit of agony that was swimming between his ears.

No matter the wits that the trio shared, it didn’t appear that they’d find a way out of this sick game Lucifer was playing. All of them were stressed and frustrated to levels that they’d likely never been before now. Maybe ones they’d never reach again. “I’m waaaaaaaaaaaaaiting.” Lucifer sang out to them. All three glared towards the fallen angel but that only made him chuckle more. “Ooooh so scary! Whatever will the Devil do?!” He spoke, tone mocking them and their situation. “Dude, shut up.” Sam spoke, exhausted. [Y/N]’s eyes had moved back to her boyfriend rather quickly after leaving Lucifer and they’d stayed there. Minutes had passed by and once again the dark, musty room had fallen into silence. Of course she couldn’t read minds but it wasn’t difficult for her to tell just how much pain this thought process was causing Dean. She knew he couldn’t make this call, he couldn’t choose between her and Sam. Nor should he have to choose. So, sighing, she knew exactly what she had to do. It wasn’t going to be easy, it was going to quite literally take everything she had.. but for Dean she would give it all twenty times over.

“I’ll go.” Her voice was quiet but the words echoed in Dean’s mind like they’d been blasted through surround sound. “What?” Sam asked, pain in his voice as he turned toward [Y/N]. Dean’s heart was beating even louder and he didn’t think that was possible. “Baby..” he finally spoke, his voice barely audible. Dean wasn’t even sure if he said it out loud until she met his gaze with an utterly broken look reflecting within her eyes. [Y/N] took the steps necessary to close all space between she and Dean, tears spilling from her eyes. Cupping his face within her hands and just staring deeply into the beauty of his green eyes that she always loved so much. [Y/N] wished that she could take all of his pain away in this moment, but she knew she couldn’t. No matter what went down today things would be altered for Dean for the rest of his life. “You can’t..” He spoke, hands clutching her blazer so hard that his knuckles were turning white. Now tears had begun slipping from his own eyes as he gazed at the woman he loved. [Y/N] wished there was something she could say to fix this, her heart being ripped from her chest would feel less painful than seeing this look in Dean’s eyes.

“Dean.. I’m not gonna let you make a choice between me and your brother. You’ve spent your entire life protecting Sam, you raised Sam, I know you wouldn’t send him to hell and I’m not mad at that. It’s one of the reasons I fell so hard for you.” She spoke, brushing her thumbs underneath of Dean’s eyes to wipe the tears away. “I love you, more than I have ever loved anyone on this earth. I know this isn’t what we wanted..” She sighed, trying to shake how utterly broken she was away from her voice. “I don’t want you to go..” Dean cried out, somehow gripping the fabric of [Y/N]’s top harder than he was before. “I know, my love.. I know. I don’t wanna go either but there’s no other way out of this.” She cooed, tears streaming down her face. “Please don’t forget me. Think of me and how much I love you every day. I’ll always be in your heart, okay? They can never take that away from you. I know this is gonna hurt baby, but you’ve gotta keep pushing for me too. Hey..” she cried, leaning her forehead directly against her boyfriend’s. “I believe in you, I have always believed in you. I will never stop believing in you, Dean Winchester.” She sobbed, the eldest Winchester’s hands finally releasing their grip upon the fabric of her blazer and coming upward to cup her face now. “Promise me you won’t give up. Promise me you and Sam will keep fighting this, keep saying no to this bullshit.”

“I promise.” He sobbed, keeping his eyes on her and not moving them for a second. [Y/N] immediately crashed her lips into his, the rest of the world melting away. Nothing surrounding them but empty space and their love. Each of them clinging to the closeness they shared, hands on their lover’s face and keeping them for the longest time they could. “Alright, let’s go. I’m bored.” Lucifer spoke up with annoyance in his tone and that broke the magic of their kiss. Heaviness was surrounding the group now, Sam approaching the two of them. “Love you, Sammy. Please take care of him.” [Y/N] sobbed out, reaching one hand towards her brother-in-law’s face. “I promise I will, [Y/N/N.] Love you too.” Sadness was seeping through the younger Winchester’s voice too. Tears slowly running down his cheeks. “I said hurry up.” Lucifer ordered to which she snapped. “You’re dragging me to hell for no good fucking reason, I’m going willingly so shut the fuck up and let me say goodbye.” Dean sobbed and hearing that word. Sam backed up again, letting his brother and [Y/N] have their final moment. “I love you, Dean Winchester.” She spoke, looking directly into his pained emerald eyes. “I love you more, [Y/N] [L/N].” He cried out, knowing this was the end. Slowly they let each other go. She turned towards Lucifer with a scowl and took one step, but immediately turned back to Dean. Quickly her hand flicked to the back of her neck and she unclasped the necklace that Dean had given her for their three year anniversary. Inside the locket attached to the chain were two photographs. One was the first photo they’d ever taken together, which was inside when he’d gifted it to her—the second was one they added not too long ago. It was after Dean had come back from hell and they’d begun cherishing every moment more than they already had. No one could’ve predicted that such a short time later, they’d be here. That they’d have to be saying another forced goodbye. Slowly [Y/N] slipped it into his hand and closed it into a fist so he wouldn’t drop it.

Sam had taken a couple steps to his brother and placed his own hand on his shoulder, squeezing in an attempt to ground him. He wasn’t sure that would even help, but he needed to try and do something. He needed to make sure that Dean knew he was there for him, which of course he would, but in the moment things were going to get ugly. Emotions would fly and Sam needed Dean to know that he wasn’t alone. Lucifer grabbed [Y/N] by the wrist and within the blink of an eye they were both gone. Dean clutched that locket tight and fell to his knees, screaming and crying out the most heart wrenching noises that Sam had ever heard. It was very similar to when Sam had died in his arms, but of course, the younger Winchester didn’t witness that.. [Y/N] did. Slowly, Sam lowered himself to the ground and got on his knees too, pulling Dean into a hug while all the elder of the two could do was sob violently. They stayed there for what felt like years, until Dean couldn’t physically sob anymore. Now? He was just silent. Sam had managed to drag his brother out of the building, they walked a little ways and finally Castiel could get to them. Naturally the angel was confused when there was only two, Sam having to explain what had happened. Cas just looked at Dean with sadness, but Dean’s gaze hadn’t left the ground. After figuring out where they’d been, Cas zapped the brothers and the impala back to the motel.

Sam had entered the room first, just wanting to lay down but his heart sunk again. There, just where they’d been left, sitting all across the room were [Y/N]’s things. Dean, who’d been quiet the whole time, began sobbing again seeing the remnants of their life before Lucifer had torn it apart. He didn’t care about what he was wearing or how long he’d been in it, he just crawled into the bed and grabbed his favorite flannel—well his second favorite. [Y/N] had stolen this one and wore it all the time so he needed to find a new favorite but god, it smelled just like her and he needed it right now. Laying down and putting it between his arms, he began silently crying and thinking about the day he met her.

“Hi, I’m Detective Bonham. Can I ask you a couple questions?” He’d approached the victims daughter. “Son that’s not necessary.” John spoke, which caused the young woman to turn around. “John?” She asked, clearly distraught since it was her father that had been the victim of murder. “Hey kiddo. I’m sorry about your dad.” He replied, approaching the young lady and giving her a gentle hug. “Thanks..” her voice was soft and emotional. John pulled away and Dean’s heart stopped then and there. His eyes finally saw the young woman and she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “This is your son?” She asked, he nodded and blinked a couple of times before snapping out of it. “Oh, yeah, hi.. I’m Dean.” He smiled, which made her smile too. Dean had extended his hand toward her and she took it, shaking it firmly enough. “I’m [Y/N].” John coughed, which worked to snap his son out of the daze he’d clearly been in since laying eyes on the woman. “I met her dad on a hunt years back. We weren’t overly close, most people in this life aren’t. However, whenever I’d have to come out to Arizona.. [Y/F/N] would help me out. I was always thankful, so when I heard what happened..” John trailed off, not needing to rehash the details. Dean’s face fell. “I’m sorry about your dad.” He’d said, gazing into her eyes with a softness reflecting in his own. “I appreciate it.” She replied and while she was obviously sad, there was a softness in her eyes too. John himself could tell that they’d felt their hearts sing that day, smiling just a little at how they were lost in each other.

Dean had known from the day he laid eyes on [Y/N] that he was in love. Sure, he’d fought it for a little while, mostly because he didn’t think he was worthy of anyone’s love and partly because he was young, dumb and needed to explore—least that was what he told himself. However that all changed when they’d been working a case without his dad and it had gone wrong.

“[Y/N]!! [Y/N] where are you?!” Dean yelled. He’d just successfully salted and burned the bones of a ghost that was killing people with family secrets, but not before it had launched [Y/N] against the wall. However she wasn’t where she’d hit, or where he thought she’d hit the wall, so he was frantically trying to find her. “[Y/N] I’m serious where the hell are you?!” He called after her, worried that it was the worst case scenario. “D-Dean.. I’m here.” She croaked out, holding her ribcage. Dean would’ve felt relief if he hadn’t noticed blood on her hand. “What happened?!” He asked, rushing to her side and kneeling in the grass. Dean gently pulled her hand away from her side so he could get a better look, immediately noticing the gash in her side that was bleeding. “Must’ve hit a part of the wall with some shit sticking out or something.” She replied, Dean ripping one of his extra shirts and quickly tying it around [Y/N]’s ribs. Without saying anything else, he picked her up bridal style and began walking towards the impala. “I’ve got you, babe.” He froze internally for a moment when he realized what he said, but instead of reacting negatively, she managed a smile. “I know you do.” [Y/N] replied.

Dean had stayed with her the entire time she was at the hospital, which had been a couple of days. After that? They were inseparable. At first there was no official label but soon enough, after that fight about him flirting with people for information, they’d been as official as official gets. Now he was alone in the romantic sense and it was already killing him. Sam just watched over his older brother, sadness written in every bit of his facial expression. He wanted to say something, anything to help his brother but he knew there was nothing that he could say. Right now, Dean needed to wallow and feel all of his sadness. It was something that broke Sam’s heart, both because of his personal relationship with [Y/N] and obviously for his brother. Mourning the person he loved more than anything in the world, he never expected he’d have to leave her side again.. or vice versa. When Dean was ready? They’d start looking for a way to bring [Y/N] back.

• —– ٠ tag list: @roseblue373 ✤ ٠ —– • ·

#dean winchester #dean x reader #fanfic #supernatural #dean winchester imagines #spn #spn imagines #dean winchester x reader #fanfics #dean winchester x female!reader

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triflesandparsnips · 1 year

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I'm not seeing enough deep-dive nonsense about the new Good Omens season 2 poster drop on my dash, and by god that means I must be the one to deliver it.

For those who haven't seen it yet, behold:

...there's a lot in here to go a wee bit feral over, if one was so inclined, and lord knows I love an inclination.

The Obvious Stuff

1. There Was Only One Bed Chair

This is the bulk of the commentary I've seen, and tbh, it's pretty great. "I am bored/busy and ignoring you but also what is personal space, never heard of her, we will not be taking questions at this time."

Notably, however, this is the second time we've seen them back to back-- the majority of the poster art we saw for the first season had them side by side. In both cases they're in a position to face some third thing together-- the difference, perhaps, is that side by side might imply equality of situation, while back to back implies implicit trust that the other won't stab you there.

2. The bookshop

Aw, look at them. Look at it. What a glorious little mess. This is them in London. Arizaphale looks pleased with the situation; Crowley looks bored af but he's also squished up on that one dang chair, so there's a "cat sitting next to you because parallel play and mirroring are the Best Interactions" feel to it.

3. Tea and wine

Arizaphale's got a teacup, Crowley's got a wine glass, this is very Them and indicative of their Vibes. Tbh, I think this is just a nice bit of design work, but it's worth calling out.

4. The outside street

The shop across the way is using a Gothic and reads "GIVE ME" before being cut off. No clue what it means, but it probably means something.

5. The tagline

The previous tagline we got was "Something's going down in the Up" (with that grey feather falling between their black and white wings)-- this tagline reads "Everyday it's a-getting closer."

Easiest interpretation is, oho, we're getting closer to the second season, and gosh there will be some Plot in it. And sure, yes, it works for that too, huzzah. But leaving aside the "it" and what that may mean-- "a-getting" is a fascinating word choice. It evokes similar constructions like, say, the somewhat obscure "Sumer is icumen in" (a song about the changing of the seasons and also encouraging a cuckoo to go lay some eggs in other birds nests if u no wat im sayin eyyyyy)-- and the significantly less obscure protest song "The Times They Are A-Changin'", whose ending stanza is:

The line it is drawn

The curse it is cast

The slow one now

Will later be fast

As the present now

Will later be past

The order is rapidly fadin'

And the first one now

Will later be last

For the times they are a-changin'

Gosh.

Now the Real Fun Starts

This poster is a composite image (as so many ads are), composed of different bits and pieces to form a whole impression -- based on fun stuff like relative pixelation and whatnot, you can often tell what portions of an image were there to start with, and what were specifically added in after the fact. How packed this poster is in tiny details -- which is exactly where I would hide fun hints to things -- is generally a cue for me to take a closer look, and I have been, I think, rewarded.

1. The books with legible titles

Zoom in on Aziraphale's book-- he's reading Charles Dickens's A Tale of Two Cities. The "two cities" in play are Paris and London, and the book is set before and during the French Revolution.

It's the story of a man who had been previously imprisoned in the Bastille for 18 years, and then was released to go live with his daughter -- who he has never met, what with the whole "imprisoned" thing -- in London.

The opening paragraph is:

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

The pile of books in the foreground have two visible titles: the topmost one is Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice (a "novel of manners" that's considered a heavy-hitting romantic classic, and also yes the leads are both prideful and prejudiced and it takes an entire book for them to clear that up) and Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure Island (a young adult coming-of-age adventure story about a kid who finds himself on an adventure with a bunch of pirates to discover buried treasure).

Of note: A Tale of Two Cities, Pride and Prejudice, and Treasure Island also all have note tabs sticking out of them, and are the only books that have them. This is reminiscent of how Arizaphale studied and referenced Agnes Nutter's prophecies.

Some of the books beneath the window technically have titles, but they appear to be about as pixelated as the rest of that section, and so I suspect they're just part of the scenery.

Similarly, most of the books on the background shelves are like that as well, except:

Joseph Heller's Catch-22 (A satirical novel set in World War II; Wikipedia briefly explains that "the novel examines the absurdity of war and military life through the experiences of Yossarian and his cohorts, who attempt to maintain their sanity while fulfilling their service requirements so that they may return home." The book also coined the phrase "catch-22," which is a situation someone can't escape because of paradoxical rules-- in the case of the book, you can't ask to be evaluated for insanity so that you can be exempt from flying dangerous missions, because "anyone who wants to get out of combat duty isn't really crazy.")

Iain Banks's The Crow Road (and a first edition, perhaps? I haven't read it, but apparently it's a Scottish family drama about a perfect murder against the backdrop of the 1990s Gulf War. Its opening line is "It was the day my grandmother exploded." The phrase "the crow road" is a euphemism, in the book, for death.)

Joseph Conrad's Lord Jim (Sparknotes says it's "the story of a man named Marlow's struggle to tell and to understand the life story of a man named Jim" -- a young man who goes to sea, makes a terrible and cowardly decision while following his leaders, and then spends the rest of his life haunted by it.)

There's at least one extra, partially obscured title:

It appears to read "THE BODY ------ and ------", which makes me wonder if it's an anthology of murder mystery short stories.

Leaving aside the uncertain book, commonalities between many of these books include:

soldiers, war, and the horrors/absurdities thereof

doubles and parallels

death and murder

a young/inexperienced protagonist thrown in with more experienced/weirder folk

fragmented and out of order narratives, sometimes having to be pieced together from multiple viewpoints

...pirates

2. The strange but noticeable inserts

There are several images that have been inserted into the poster that -- unlike the teacup and wine glass mentioned above -- don't seem to make a lot of contextual sense and are therefore, perhaps, extra information. These include:

a. the three lizard boys

b. the broken smartphone

c. the matchbox with the quote on the side

d. the camera

e. this statuette that seems suspicious

f. this record and scroll that seem out of place

g. the clockface with the missing hand (which may be just for the Aesthetic, but whatever, I'm including it)

What do they mean? No clue. I suspect it will become apparent as we get trailers and/or the actual show.

In Conclusion

Uh.

Look. Design teams can do all sorts of things for all sorts of reasons. All of this could mean absolutely nothing.

But.

Using my magical powers of bullshit deduction, I might look at all this, and that grey feather falling from the earlier poster, and say... well... the war's still ongoing, yeah? So maybe... maybe there needs to be a new angel keeping an eye on things on Earth. Or an eye specifically on Aziraphale and Crowley.

And that would look SUSPICIOUS, right? So this is an angel who's maybe... a little bit Fallen. For the sake of the Mission. Like, they've agreed to sin just a lil bit, just enough to justify being thrown out of Heaven, and they're not actively in Hell because they're, oh, just stopping off, or maybe just going really slowly, or maybe they were sent back up from Hell because they were still "too good" and all that Pureness of Spirit was stinking up the place--

Whatever. Point is, they're on Earth, they're very confused, it sure would be nice if these very Established metaphysical elders could give them a few hints about how to get on. We'd then get to enjoy a Guide to Living a Totally Normal Human Life given by these two disaster dorks, plus whatever nonsense is derived from, idk, various extraneous plot shenanigans, probably involving a Murder and maybe a MacGuffin Maltese Falcon.

And most importantly: this new angel? Wow no they couldn't possibly be a spy because again WOW, what kind of angel would deliberately Fall? Wouldn't that require doing the wrong thing to do a right thing? ...okay maybe, but can it really be wrong if it was done by command? ...well, wait, it surely must be wrong because otherwise the mechanism wouldn't have worked-- but then, wait, which thing was the wrong thing--

And Aziraphale and Crowley would watch this bouncing volley of cognitive dissonance with great interest, also possibly while holding hands.

#good omens #season 2 #good omens season 2 rampant speculation

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