#are my own writings even romantic or just...
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𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝓎 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒱 — 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓉𝑜𝓃
♕ A/N: Yeah so this hiatus has been so criminal. Honestly my “writers block” has just been insecurity. I’ve gotten into this bad habit of comparing my writing styles to others and that is such a viscous and toxic self attack. Long story short, I’m a little dummy who needs to remember why I got into fanfic writing in the first place, to have fun. If you feel like it. Please please please send feedback. There’s one final part left. Maybe some bonus chapters with the new season.
♕ SUMMARY: Oh, the most scandalous season of the year has come to pass. After quite the successful year for the Bridgerton’s the eldest son plans to throw his hat in the ring. Concurrently the Sharma sisters do just the same. One a spinster, the other hopeful romantic, and the middle daughter? What can be said about such a force that is not said when she enters the room. Good luck to all who pursue her.
♕ WORD COUNT: 4.7K
♕ WARNINGS: None
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BLINK. SMILE. NOD. You remind yourself every few seconds. Edwina leads the conversation with a jubilant smile.
Meanwhile, you tally each time Kate’s gaze meets your own as she watches you walk a tightrope, waiting for an inevitable fall. You sit out of place, Kate on your right and your mother on your left. Both rubbing the mustard yellow onto Edwina’s arms, your nose scrunching at the pungent wafts of Haldi. Each time Edwina’s gaze meets your own, you smile. You tilt your head, doing what you do best, offering your unwavering support—no matter how much your chest knots.
“Didi, are you okay? You are so quiet,” Edwina says, leaning forward to capture your gaze. You smile, lying through your teeth, “You are to be wed soon. I shall miss you, is all Bon.”
“You must calm yourself, Bon. Keep still,” Kate smiles down at a jittery Edwina. Her joy practically spills out, her every move indicating pure excitement.
”It is all so strange. I have faced a thousand tomorrows, but they all have been leading to this one,” You pause. Tomorrow. Every laugh, jest, slight—all of it leading to tomorrow. The day you make a fool of yourself—the mark of your first-ever regret. Though your mother speaks, the words do not reach you. The sinking in your chest renders you silent, almost queasy.
”Oh, it has...caused you doubts?” Kate’s cautious tone has your ears perking up, and your absent gaze finds Edwina. Your mother nudges you with a gentle smile, a reminder of her presence.
”Bringing the wedding forward is a sign of genuine feeling, but...well,” Edwina pauses, a sigh leaving her lips as she finds her words. Your heart was banging against your ribcage as Edwina glanced at you. “It has unnerved me. Didi, perhaps you should truly consider Lord Beauregard’s proposal. He’s a wonderful companion to you, and he seems to care. That way, we can navigate all this together.”
”I don’t know, Bon. It’s a lot to consider,” You tilt your head, a tight-lipped smile across your lips, "but right now is not about me or Lord Beauregard. It’s about you and the Viscount.”
“Your sister is right. Rest assured, Edwina, the Viscount adores you. He has devotedly courted you and made his intentions clear from our first arrival. Even going out of his way to procure (Y/n)’s and Kate’s approval. There is no lady better suited for the Viscount,” Your mother’s adoration beams on her prized child, your expression faltering nearly imperceptibly.
“I just—I still wish that when he looks at me, I could be certain that he truly loves me. Like—like—“ Edwina looks around as though the words sit in the room with all of you. Then her gaze finds yours again, “Like how Lord Beauregard looks at (Y/n). His fondness for
her is so evident, written right on his face. I fear, in fact, that the Viscount does not look at me often enough to even tell.”
Your mother and Kate glance at each other with a collective sigh. You lower your gaze, fiddling with the top lace of your peach gown and swallowing the sizzling golf ball in your throat. Kate speaks softly, this time avoiding your direction entirely, “Looks can be powerful, Bon, but also fleeting. Displays of mere passion, perhaps. Nothing more.”
”So the Viscount feels little passion for me?” Edwina exclaims, amusement dancing in her gaze as your mother chuckles. You force a chuckle from your lips, quiet and timid, the antithesis of your very being.
Clearing your throat, forcing a smile to the surface, you grin, “What Kate is failing at saying is that true love is different. It’s complicated and unpredictable. That’s the fun of it. It’s there when you least expect it. You worry now, but fear not, Bon, when it clicks, it clicks.”
“Since when have you become so knowledgeable about love, Miss, avoiding marriage and love?” Your mother teases. Each of your giggles fills the room, and for a moment, only a moment, the dread no longer exists. For a moment you are back in India, in your childhood home.
You cringe at the sudden intrusion, turmeric overwhelming your nostrils as Edwina’s hand gently swipes the mixture across your cheek. Her saccharine giggle contrasted with your wide-eyed stare. She speaks with a whimsical glint in her eyes. One like your own but doe-eyed and hopeful, not calculated and mischievous. “It is said, when spread on an unmarried person, Haldi will help them find a worthy partner that brings the complicated and unpredictable excitement too.”
”Well, Haldi can mind their business,” You tilt your head with a sarcastic smile, earning your mother's pointed stare. Kate chuckles and shakes her. Edwina turns to Kate, who offers a warning stare.
“Now, now. You shall receive it too,” Edwina says, stroking the Haldi across Kate’s cheeks. You fail to ignore the Haldi on your cheeks. It sits like a reminder that tomorrow will come whether you are prepared or not. You shall watch him marry Edwina. Your sister, nieces, and nephews shall be his—but never you.
“Hey!” You exclaim, once again pulled from your thoughts as your mother spreads Haldi across your chest. Reaching into the mixture only takes seconds before the four of you make a mess of it. The giggles are seemingly endless.
Despite the joyous moment, it’s fleeting as the hours seem to fly. Before you know it, you stand in a lavender gown that matches Kate's. You maintain an expression void of emotion, seemingly zoning out—the subtle indicators, near imperceptible. Light sweat coated your brow, and deep sighs left you as though the air was limited. You thank every and any god above for the smokescreen that keeps your beloved family from noticing. Sitting by the window as servants help Edwina prepare, you watch as Kate retrieves the gold bracelet with emeralds dancing across the band.
Edwina stands in front of the full-length mirror. Her eyebrows pinch at the sight she catches in the reflection. Her smile was curious and of awe, “Didi? What are those?”
”I brought them with us from home. I knew this season would be a success,” Kate smiles down at Edwina as she closely inspects them with a warm gaze. You keep your gaze outside the window, willing yourself to ignore every ailment that plagues you. Far too busy pondering potential ways to avoid attending Edwina’s pending nuptials.
Edwina’s head tilts as she searches for familiarity, “they are quite beautiful. How have I never seen them before?”
“They belonged to my mother. Amma wore them on her wedding day and saved them,” Edwina asks if they were saved for Kate. Kate chuckles lightly, “I brought them for you. I insist, beautiful bangles for a beautiful bride.”
”Will you wear them with me?” Edwina asks, but Kate shakes her head, assuring Edwina she will be no bride any time soon. Edwina’s gaze shifts to you, “Well then, Didi, you may very well be a bride soon. Could you wear one with me?”
“Bon—“ You sigh, your gaze meets Kate. The pity in your eyes only furthers the stir in your chest.
“I’m so nervous, but you are the bravest person I know. I don’t know, it may be silly, but wearing this, I shall have a piece of Kate with me up at the altar and knowing you’re wearing it too,” Edwina pauses, her gaze pleading as she holds the bracelet out to you, “It’ll be like we’re in this together. Maybe I can channel some of your courage.”
At the touch of your fingertips, the metal chills against your skin as it soon shackles you to your living nightmare. As Edwina returns to getting ready, you visibly falter for the first time. While your sweet little sister fails to see it, Kate’s quickly at your side. She excuses the both of you slyly, your hands trembling in hers as you both exit the room.
“Bon—“ Kate says, but you offer her a sharp, “don’t.”
You walk with haste to the nearest glass, throwing down a quick shot, ignoring Kate’s advisory against alcohol. Your eyes are misty as your defenses crumble around you. Taking a deep breath, you quickly steel yourself, marching back into the room, rendering Kate unable to console you.
It all passes in a blur as you stare absently out of the window once more. The arriving guests. The bracelets. The wedding gown. Your mother's gushing of Edwina’s beauty in her gown only fuels the fire that slowly burns from the inside out.
“Didi,” you gaze from the window onto your approaching sister. She smiles warmly, taking both your hands. Your heart caught in your throat when she said, “You love him.”
“Wha—I—uh?” You stammer, eyes widening as you try to wrap your brain around her easygoing persona.
“You should not be afraid to tell Lord Beauregard how you feel. You have been nothing like yourself, and I’ve forgotten you have not seen Lord Beauregard in some time now, and you shall see him today. Just tell him,” Edwina says, smiling sweetly. The panic fades into a tremendous relief as your shoulders fall.
“Today is your day. Don’t worry about me, Bon,” You smile, gently squeezing her hands.
“Oh, my beautiful girls,” Your mother says, her gaze moving between you. Her gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, her eyebrow pinching, but the door opening steals her attention away. Concurrently, your body tenses.
“Come. Let us put all the nasty gossip behind us for once and for all,” Your mother stands, taking one of your hands and Edwina’s. Kate joins, taking your own and Edwina’s free hands. She offers you a comforting squeeze. “Let us give the ton a wedding to remember and show them who we truly are.”
Outside the curtains, you stand at Kate's side as if a prisoner were standing before the guillotine. Your corset seemingly constricting as your mind fails to move your legs. You grip Kate’s hand tighter, your ears ringing so loudly you can hardly hear your whisper to her, “I fear I cannot do this, Didi.”
”You are the strongest person I know, Bon. You can. I’m with you all the way. For better or worse,” she whispers. Looking up at her, you blink back tears, and a nervous chuckle leaves you with a final quick whisper: “It sounds as if we are to be wed.”
Kate lets out a soft as she gently pulls you along with her. Servants pull the sheer curtains away as you both pass through. Your gaze finds William in seconds, sitting with Aunt the Queen. His gaze was cold and focused on the groom. You never meet the groom's gaze despite it searing a hole into your head.
You curtsy to the Queen, and William’s gaze remains behind you. As you take your place behind Kate, your gaze meets the grooms for only a second—your breath hitch as you approach the entrance, awaiting the inevitable. A smile takes your face at the sight of your mother and Edwina. Despite everything, your dear little sister always amazes you with her beautiful presence.
Archbishop begins the ceremony, but his words do not reach you. The ringing of your ears grows louder, your right hand soon fiddling at your side. Your smile falters into an absent stare as the bangle on your wrist becomes more noticeable than the gown that covers much of your skin. You let out a shaky exhale, your left hand crushing the stems of your bouquet.
Squaring your shoulders, you take a deep breath and stare forward. A weak smile on your lips as Benedict shoots you a wink—the calm brief as your gaze meets the groom. You refocus on Benedict, but it’s mere seconds, and you both return. The bobbing of his Adams apple, light sweat above his brow, his gaze unfocused, hazy—perhaps you imagine it. You are in Edwina’s place, standing before Anthony, not with a joyous smile but a smug one. A reminder that each day would be a challenge, one you’d both happily accept—a future.
“My lord,” The Archbishop shatters the fantasy with a firmness, tearing your gaze from him; you focus on Kate’s shoulder.
A brief reprieve as the wedding crashes violently with the present reality. Your left hand grips the bouquet stems so tightly it rips beneath the force of your palm as your right hand trembles at your side, the bengal sliding menacingly around your wrist. You tense as your racing heart becomes your only focus, clashing with the loud ringing in your ears.
Anthony looks around the room, and again, his gaze finds you. Edwina’s eyebrows pinch as she follows his gaze. You do not look up from Kate’s shoulder, confident that one wrong move shall bring your end. Even as Edwina turns back, prompting Anthony, his gaze flicks to your unwavering stare on Kate’s shoulder. Your trembling hand matches the pace of your raging heart as you force your tears to remain in your lids.
“I, Lord Anthony Bridgerton,” Archbishop recites, his words ringing loudly in your ears as they hit you head-on. The bengal slips from your wrist, releasing you from its confines. Your eyes close with a sigh of relief as everything quiets. Anthony stands before you when your eyes open, holding the bengal out to you. You glance at Kate, her gaze panicked as she looks between Anthony and yourself.
Lifting your hand, you falter for a second; the moment has lasted far longer than it should. Your gaze locks with his own as you reach out cautiously. His thumb brushes against your own faintly at the touch of the metal. Muttering a thank you and apology, you return to your spot with your gaze low and lips pursed, holding the bengal not placing it back on.
“I need a moment!” Edwina shouts, her voice echoing through the silence. Your eyes widen, and she’s rushing down the aisle from the altar before you can even process. A sea of indiscernible chatter fills the room as you watch your mother rush after Edwina. It all soon returns, the ringing in your ears and your chest constricting. William rises from his seat, his gaze gentle as he stares at you. You look everywhere but at Anthony. Kate grabs your hand, pulling you back down the aisle out of the ceremony.
”—we will call for tea, and once you have something in your stomach, you will be strong enough to go back out there. The Viscount—“ You stand in the doorway, Kate standing a few paces in front of you, your mother a few in front of her. Edwina paces the room, taking deep, haggard breaths. Your mother fumbles to recover the moment, “The Viscount will understand, yes Kate? (Y/n), dear, perhaps you might find that tea—“
“It is not tea that I want; it is the truth!” You freeze in place as Edwina looks at you in a way you have never seen her look at anyone. Though words enter your mind, they do not leave your parted lips. Your mother voices her confusion as you stand as a deer in headlights, teary-eyed and guilty. Edwina continues mercilessly, “Still uncharacteristically quiet, sister, how telling of your deceitful nature!”
“I don’t understand what is happening,” Your mother's gaze bounces between you. Kate sidesteps in a failed attempt to hide you from Edwina’s view, your presence only furthering her rage.
“I shall tell you what is going on, Mama. Your daughter does not love chaos, as she claims. She loves destruction! Decimation at the tips of her fingers, slowly poisoning all she touches!” You blink through your tears, unable to find the words or even begin an explanation.
“Edwina—“ Kate interjects and appears to be the only intervention that deters from her verbal assault.
“Oh, you cannot deny it now, Kate! You enable her! You always have. The two of you are constantly deceiving me. Together in your deception! You knew! Didn’t you? You knew of her feelings for him, ” Edwina narrows her eyes at Kate, the implication of her words giving your Mother much-needed clarity. Meeting your mother's gaze, your head tilts, all but pleading for comfort without words.
“Alright, that is enough. No good can come from this at present. Let us all take a moment to calm ourselves, shall we,” Your mother says, moving to Edwina’s side. She sits Edwina down, dissolving into a bundle of tears. You try to voice an apology, but your Mother turns to you, speaking sternly, “I said that is enough. You have done enough today.”
”Mama, please. I didn’t want this, please. I’m sorry,” You cry, panting softly as your words spill out. The ringing in your ears returns and grows louder steadily with each passing second. Kate interjects only to receive the same sternness, “And you. You have kept so very much from me.”
”Mama, please,” You cry; reaching out for her, she pulls away and points to the door.
“Anywhere else right now, (Y/n),” She says. Rushing out of the doors, everything splinters into a heap of colors and sounds. You pant as though you have run miles rather than mere steps. When you rush into the first set of doors you find, you rush past several faces you cannot make out. Your breathing choppy and staggered, your hand trembling without pause as you pace vehemently.
“(Y/n),” You cringe at the sound of your name, shaking your head as sobs rattle you to your core. He takes your hands, guiding you to the floor. “Hey, it’s okay.”
“It’s not William. I’ve ruined everything; I’m a terrible sister—a terrible person,” You cry, shaking your head; he places a hand on your cheek, stilling you as he wipes a tear.
“You’re far from a terrible person. Stubborn, sure, but not terrible,” He chuckles, tilting his head down to meet your gaze.
“You don’t understand—“ Panting endlessly, William keeps his gaze locked on you and takes a deep breath in and out. He continues to do so until you follow, and even then, he continues for a few moments.
”I’ve made my intentions with you—my uh, my feelings very clear. And when I realized your impact on Anthony and me, I was angry and jealous. He’s so at ease with you even when you’re annoying him, and you seem to forget anyone else is around when the two of you interact,” William says with a slight smile. Your face falls at his words.
“William, I am so sorry—“ Your voice wavers and William chuckles, shaking his head before you can continue. He nudges your side with a grin.
“No apology needed. I only wish for you to be happy (Y/n) just as I wish for Anthony, and with time, your sister will share this sentiment. Of that, I am sure. I must warn you, though, things will grow far worse before they grow better,” William says, resting your head on his shoulder; he kisses the top of your head. You close your eyes, refocusing on deep breaths.
After a few minutes you clear your throat, “I should go, the last thing I need is another scandal.”
“You’re nothing but trouble, Miss Sharma,” William grins, shaking his head. A giggle leaves you as you wrap your arms around him, squeezing his tight.
”Thank you for this,” You mutter, squeezing a little tighter as he kisses the crown of your head once more. As you head back to the room, you pause as Kate sits outside with her head in her hands. She looks up at the sound of your approaching steps, quickly rising at your sight. Neither of you says a word before silently agreeing you both must face this head-on, accomplices. You knock gently upon the door, and Edwina’s face manages to sink even further at the sight of you.
“What?” She asks coldly; before you can get a word in, Kate inquires about your mother, but Edwina cuts her off, “You seem to know all. How could I possibly offer any insight of my own?”
”Edwina, please. Your anger is with me, not Kate,” You say, earning a huff in response.
“Mother is off, getting some air,” Edwina opens the door wider before moving from it entirely. You take a cautious step inside, still lingering by the door as Kate closes it behind the two of you.
“Edwina, I never wanted to hurt you. By the time I realized, it felt far too late to say something. So, I thought that I would swallow it down to avoid this because I wanted you to
be happy. I know you wanted this badly, but I didn’t realize how deep this ran. But it does not matter; I am unfit to be Viscountess, but you, you’re perfect for it,” Your voice wavers as her teary gaze meets your own. Edwina scoffs, shaking her head.
“He said the same thing. I half expected to discover that the two of you prepared it ahead of time. Perhaps it speaks to your compatibility or your deceitful nature,” Edwina shakes her head at you, her gaze cold as ice.
“Edwina, (Y/n) has always supported. You and I both know she is not deceitful. Misguided, certainly. Stubborn almost all the time. But she’s our sister,” Kate says, eyebrows pinching as her head tilts. Edwina’s gaze bounces between the two of you. Her eyes land on Kate.
“I do not know which pains me more. Both your betrayals or your pity,” Edwina says, her head held high with a conviction you never knew her to be capable of.
“Edwina, we are sisters—“ Kate takes a step toward her, reaching out for her hands but halts at Edwina’s next words, “Half-sister, with the misfortune of having (Y/n) as a sister. I want you both to recognize that I am a grown woman and for the first time in my life, I can make a decision based on what I would like.”
Edwina glances over at you, her at ease presence furthered unraveling your nerves, “I have already imagined the life I would lead with Lord Bridgerton as Viscountess at Aubrey Hall. It lives in my mind and is mine to do with as I like. So, if I choose to marry Anthony, it will be because it pleases me and no one else. I need you both to understand that. If I go through with this wedding, it will have nothing to do with either of you.”
You swallow thickly every version of reality where you have no place in her life evident. Kate's reassurances fall victim to the high pitch. Like nails to a chalkboard in your ears. Your personalized torture.
Kate remains at your side, the silence jarring. Uncertain of an appropriate reaction, you find yourself in a hazy void. You refuse the tears pushing at the edge of your lids, no words in reach to synthesize the depths of the pit in your chest. Time fuses into a distorted blend of unrelenting dread. The footman delivers the summons, the neat handwriting familiar.
Kate hesitates as you ask her to join you. Would it fuel the fire? Further the divide? Perhaps. Even still, you both cross the silks and satins of the entryway—the wedding hall. It's still as breathtaking as you all left it.
”You sent word for me?” Your eyebrows pinch as Anthony's words linger in the air. Kate answers as your lips merely part, and no words leave you. You glance at Kate, who mirrors your visible confusion. Approaching footsteps carrying the answers to each lingering question.
Edwina enters like the calm before a storm. Her hands clasped in front of her, her gait determined, and her mindset. She passes Kate without sparing her a glance, Edwina’s gaze bouncing between you and Anthony, “I have made my decision. I thought it best that you both hear it from me.”
“Edwina, perhaps we should speak privately,” Kate suggests, earning a mirthless chuckle.
“No, and quite frankly, I am giving our sister a courtesy I was not granted,” Edwina keeps her head high, her presence delicate yet commanding. She turns to Anthony, who has not looked away from you. A rare sight of pure vulnerability in your eyes as you look at Edwina. Silently pleading for forgiveness. A soft sigh leaves Edwina as she keeps her eyes on Anthony, not continuing until she has his full attention, “I cannot marry you, Lord Bridgerton. You cannot provide me with what it is I want. What it is that I deserve. What everyone deserves. I may not know exactly what true love feels like, but I certainly know what it is not. It is not deception or, wandering eyes, or a role to be fulfilled. I cannot marry you because I cannot betray myself. You will never meet my eyes in the same manner that you met my sisters on that altar today. You will never...”
Edwina falters, a sigh escaping her as she briefly glances toward you and back to Anthony, “You will never look at me the same way. I would be your Viscountess, your wife, the mother of your children, but I would never be yours because you’ll be hers.”
Your eyes find Anthony as her words seep into your bones. Edwina addresses you and Kate with words of contempt and eyes of sorrow. Her retreating form leaves a heavy silence as Kate rushes after her. Neither of you move, Anthony at the altar and yourself a few paces down the aisle.
“I thought I taught Edwina nothing, but I fear she too shares the ability to scorch the earth in a fit of rage,” You chuckle, the tight-lipped smile dissolving into a huff, “I have ruined everything.”
”You speak as though you did it alone,” Anthony says, meeting your gaze in the same spot where he was meant to recite his vows.
“I should go,” You whisper, watching as he glances off, seemingly pondering something. Clearing your throat, you square your shoulders, “Lord Bridgerton.”
”You should stay,” He says, an odd ease to his demeanor. You can only wonder if he feels the turmoil that rages within you. He tilts his head, “Your sister is braver and wiser than us both. She had the courage to act on what she sensed between us. And here we are, you ready to flee and myself standing perfectly still. We’ve felt it for months.”
You inhale sharply, and the reality is apparent: you cannot escape this. Speaking hardly above a whisper, you fidget with the skirts of your dress, “I’ve lit more than enough fires today. If I were wise, I would go.”
”Then, only for a moment, my pyromaniac, play the fool with me. Humor me in this inevitability, a fate that cannot be. Explore the untenable depths of our desires for this moment only before we face the reality waiting for us out there,” Anthony holds out his hand to you. His smile does not reach his eyes as you stare at his hand before you.
A sigh leaves you as you chew on your bottom lip. You cross your arms, raising your head high, “If I am to play the fool, you will have to address me by my proper honorific, of course.”
”And what’s that?” Anthony’s eyebrows pinch as you turn your head.
“Viscount Bridgerton, of course,” You smirk as the realization slowly dawns upon him. A hearty laugh leaves his lips as you accept his hand with a gentle grin.
“The sky could be falling in, and you would find a way to jest,” Anthony smiles as he shakes his head. You nod, chuckling beneath his gaze, far closer than you were a few seconds prior. Neither of you, aware of when or how you got so close. The warmth brings a merriment that blurs the line between what can and cannot be.
The violins.
The flowers.
The gossip eager Ton.
The bride and groom at an altar without wedding bells. ”I fear I have destroyed my relationship with my sister.”
“And I, with my best friend.”
You give his hands a gentle squeeze on your own, gasping as he pulls you forward. The touch of your lips light at the climax of your shared fantasy. As you both pull apart, the warmth chills. You are not husband and wife; you are a scandal.
A smudge on both of your reputations.
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Hello, I love your writing, can I request Charles Leclerc x singer!reader where they already knew each other back when they were teenagers but the reader moves to LA to pursue her career so they kinda feel off cuz of the long distance, so years later Charles decides to surprise her at one of her concerts and tries to shoot his shoot after all those years they end up together and it's all fluffy and cute.
Sorry if this doesn't make sense english is not my first language, thank you <3
love this!!! tysm <3
birds of a feather ✿
charles leclerc x reader
summary: fem singer!reader reignites an old teenage love with famous driver charles leclerc
songs: birds of a feather by b.eilish, the 1 by t.swift
author’s note: mostly cute and fluffy but had to add a bit of angst oops! inspo from billie’s new album obv bc that’s all i’m listening to rn. also some google translate involved so oops again if it’s wrong :)
word count: 4k
In the luxurious city of Monaco, you and Charles were cruising along the winding roads late at night, a favored pastime for the two of you. The cool breeze tousled your hair as the windows were rolled down, filling the car with the scent of saltwater and adventure. You stole a glance at Charles in the driver's seat, his face adorned with that familiar boyish grin, his eyes sparkling just as they did on the day you met him.
The car zoomed down the winding road, its expensive engine purring like a contented cat. Despite its luxurious interior, Charles had no qualms about letting you put your feet up on the dash. The scarlet sky painted with streaks of orange and pink was the perfect backdrop for this drive at sunset.
One thing different about this drive at sunset was that one of your own songs was playing on the radio. At only 19 years old, your song “Birds of a Feather” was reaching the top of the charts worldwide. At any chance he got, Charles would blast it at full volume whenever the two of you were together. It only made sense considering the song was about him.
You and Charles had been inseparable since childhood, a bond that felt unbreakable and essential to your very existence. Over the years, you both had your fair share of romantic partners, but it seemed like none of them could compare to the connection you shared. Despite any ups and downs in your own love lives, you and Charles always found your way back to each other, like two ships anchored together in the stormy sea of life.
Of course, there were fleeting moments when you wondered if there could be something more between you and Charles. The thought would cross your mind as his hand brushed yours or when he made you laugh until your sides ached. But those thoughts remained just that - fleeting and unspoken. You both cherished your friendship too much to risk changing its dynamic.
But deep down, underneath layers of familiarity and comfort, there was a quiet longing that neither of you acknowledged. A shared understanding that there was something more between you than just being best friends. And although it was left unsaid, it was an unspoken truth that added a layer of depth to your friendship.
The bass of the song throbbed through the car, drowning out Charles' words as he spoke to you. You strained to hear him over the music, but all you could see were his lips moving in time with the beat. "What?!" you shouted comically with a grin, and he reached for the volume knob to turn it down.
"I said, it's only a matter of time before you're touring worldwide," he repeated with a small smile. You shook your head in amusement. Charles always had grand visions for your music career, dreaming of reaching the stars and achieving the highest goals even when you couldn't imagine them yourself.
“You’re only saying that to be nice,” you playfully bantered with him, knowing deep down he truly believed in your talent.
A wistful smile crossed his face as he replied, “I’m serious. Before you know it, you’ll be in L.A., living your dream and making music for the world.” His words had a bittersweet edge to them, causing your own smile to falter. There was truth in his statement - Charles had just signed with Ferrari and would soon be the busiest he's ever been in his career as a Formula One driver. You were endlessly proud of him and all that he had accomplished. It feels like just yesterday when you both were just kids with big dreams, but now here you are, actually making strides towards achieving those dreams. Even with a hit song on the radio and promising opportunities ahead, you still felt like you were ages behind in becoming someone big in the music industry. And the thought of possibly leaving your best friend behind as you pursued your dreams weighed heavily on your heart.
He noticed the solemn expression on your face, his eyes full of understanding and affection. "Ah, come on," he said gently, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You know I mean that in a good way." His voice was warm and sincere."L.A. is a hotbed for the music industry right now," he continued, his excitement palpable. "And haven't you always talked about wanting to go to the States?"
You nodded slowly, unable to contain a small smile at the thought. "Yeah, but...I can't even imagine us being apart for so long," you admitted with a hint of sadness. "We've never been separated for more than a week. And even then, you were blowing up my phone every day." You couldn't help but laugh at the memory.
His own laughter rang out, contagious and genuine. "So now you know that when you're in the U.S., you won't have to worry about us not talking," he reassured you. "Clearly, I can't get enough of you." His words made your heart swell with love and comfort. Despite any ridiculous or anxious thoughts that may cross your mind, you were always reminded that the bond between you two could stretch thousands of miles.
About a week later, you had hired a manager with the help of your parents and were looking at record labels to sign with. Your social media pages were blowing up with new fans anticipating and begging for new music. It was a rightful step for a singer who had just had a song blow up, to make more music.
After many phone calls and contracts, you decided on the best deal to sign with the record label you had always wanted. With a location in Los Angeles, Sony Music Entertainment was your new employer.
As the days passed, the familiar childhood bedroom in Monaco slowly transformed into a maze of boxes and packing materials. The bittersweet scent of nostalgia clung to the air as you said goodbye to the people and places that had shaped you. It was early February, just before the newest Formula One season started, but Charles seemed to be swallowed up by his work, juggling the responsibilities of being their rookie driver. In those fleeting moments between racing events, he squeezed in time for you, knowing that soon you would both be consumed by your separate paths. On the last night together, you took a nostalgic drive around town, savoring every street corner and landmark. As the sun dipped below the horizon, you returned to your house - now empty and cold without all of your belongings. The silence hung heavy in the air as you sat side by side, cherishing these final moments together.
You both sat on your bed as you rested your head on his shoulder and asked, “How did this even happen?”
“Your talent will always drive you towards success, how could it not happen?” He replied and it made your eyes water. You weren’t sure how you were going to adjust with your time apart. You’ll miss his advice and little jokes. You’ll miss your late night drives around Monaco with him, taking in the cool air.
As he turned to face you, his piercing eyes caught the glistening trails of tears streaming down your cheeks. His own expression shifted from concern to sadness as he took in the sight of your heartbroken state. With a heavy sigh, he reached out to gently wipe away a stray tear from your cheek and murmured, "Please don't cry." Your eyes met his with a solemn understanding, but your bottom lip began to quiver despite your efforts.
You couldn't help but notice the glimmer of tears in his own eyes, which only made your own tears flow even more freely. Together, you both sat on the edge of your bed, gripping each other's hands tightly as you cried until it became almost comical at just how much emotion was pouring out of both of you. In between sobs, he managed to let out a small laugh and said, "It's not even an actual goodbye, I'll see you again soon.”
You couldn't help but laugh along with him through your tears. "I know," you replied with a watery smile. "I'll see you before I know it.”
But as the night wore on and the hour grew late, the reality of tomorrow morning's early flight to L.A. began to sink in. Despite wanting to hold onto this moment for as long as possible, you both knew it was time to say goodbye. You stood up and shared one final embrace, his arms enveloping you in a tight hug while yours rested around his neck. The warmth of his body and the familiar scent of his cologne brought a sense of comfort amidst the pain of parting ways.
“Tu vas me manquer mon amour,” he whispered by your ear, which made you squeeze him tighter.
“Tu vas me manquer davantage, Char.” You replied with a raspy voice, your cheeks still wet with tears. He blew you a kiss before walking out the door.
~ 5 years later ~
The electric energy of Los Angeles, California pulsed through the air as you walked towards the venue on the opening night of your highly anticipated second tour. Fresh off the massive success of your second album, fans from all over the world were eagerly awaiting your performance tonight. You could already hear their screams and see their signs, some bearing your name since the very beginning of your career. Your first tour had been small, just a few cities in the U.S., but now with your skyrocketing fame, this tour would take you to stages across the globe. The thought of performing for thousands of people in different countries sent a thrill through your veins. As you approached the entrance, excitement and nerves intertwined within you, ready to take on this new chapter in your music career.
As you nervously waited backstage, dressed in a stunning white gown for your highly anticipated opening night in Los Angeles, your mind couldn't help but wander to a familiar name: Charles. The two of you had been inseparable during your first year in L.A., constantly talking and supporting each other's dreams. But as time went on, his calls and texts became less frequent until they eventually stopped altogether. You found yourself relying on social media to keep up with him and were happy to see that he had found success with Ferrari, but also couldn't shake the feeling of hurt and confusion as to why he had suddenly disappeared from your life. You debated reaching out to congratulate him on his wins, but deep down, you knew it wouldn't make a difference.
The next years after that became hard, and you struggled to make genuine connections with anyone in the industry. You found that often other artists wanted to use you for their fame or publicity. But you had found one genuine person, your boyfriend. The two of you dated for two years, but two weeks before the opening night of your world tour, he broke things off. You were devastated, as he had become someone you loved dearly and could trust with your whole being. His reason was that he realized he couldn’t handle your level of fame and that it was becoming too much for him to handle.
So here you were, backstage, reminiscing on your career up until this point. Your mind ran over the setlist a thousand times. “Birds of a Feather” hadn’t made the cut for this tour, and you stopped performing it all together once Charles had stopped communicating with you. You weren’t sure why he was on your mind so much for your opening night.
As you stepped out onto the stage, a wave of excited nerves washed over you. But with each step and movement, your confidence grew until it radiated off of you like a second skin. The bright lights illuminated your white dress, making it glow against the dark backdrop. You knew this dress well, having spent hours upon hours rehearsing in it, mastering every twirl and flick of the sleeves. And now, as you sang and danced flawlessly, you felt like a true star. Every note was hit perfectly, every movement graceful and deliberate. It was as if you were born to be on that stage, commanding the attention of everyone in the audience. The familiar click of a metronome and the muffled directions from backstage played in your in-ears, guiding you through the performance like a well-oiled machine. You had become a masterful performer, honing your craft to perfection.
You wished you could remember every moment of this night as you went through the setlist. You performed “the 1”, a song from your most recent album. Fans speculated it was about the recent split with your boyfriend, but really in your mind you knew it was about Charles. Your fans mostly were unaware of Charles and the old friendship the two of you had. He rarely talked about you in the media, and you were never asked about him, even though the two of you were individually growing more famous by the day.
As the final song ended, you returned backstage, the sweat dripping down your face and your body heaving with exhaustion. This tour was more physically demanding than your last one, with intricate dance routines and high-energy performances. But it was all worth it as you heard the crowd's roar of approval after each song and saw their hands in the air, singing along to every lyric. The adrenaline rush and satisfaction of a flawless opening night kept you going despite the fatigue setting in.
You got a flood of compliments from your team and the crew backstage as you felt the dewy feeling of sweat on your forehead cool down. Your manager came up to and wrapped you in a big hug, congratulating you and updating you on the next steps for the tour.
“I know you don’t typically meet people after shows, but there’s actually a visitor here for you. He was pretty persistent.” She told you as you stood outside your dressing room.
“Who is it?” You asked tiredly, not wishing for long interactions with people after the show. You were worn out, and typically napped or slept through the night after a long show.
“He said his name is Charles Leclerc. Went on about how you guys were childhood friends. He showed his ID and credentials so we allowed it.” Your manager explained everything and as she was speaking your face became flushed. Charles was here, in L.A? And your management had allowed him to meet with you. You were partly in shock and partly frustrated with how easily he was able to persuade your team.
“Well…where is he?” You asked, and your manager pointed to your dressing room door. “He’s in my dressing room?” You questioned in a surprised voice, lowering your voice in case he could hear you.
“We weren’t sure where else he could’ve waited. He made it seem like he needed to have a serious talk with you.” She explained further and you put your head in your hands. You couldn’t believe the words that had come out of her mouth, and thought that maybe she was joking. You thought that you’d open up your dressing room door and it would be empty, earning a loud laugh from her and a “Got you!”
As you slowly opened your door, still clad in your flowing white dress, your heart caught in your throat as you saw Charles sitting on the plush brown leather couch. The air was thick with surprise and a tinge of nervousness, evidenced by Charles' fidgeting hands rubbing against his pants. You could barely breathe as you managed to utter a breathless greeting, "Hi."
He stood up abruptly, his body language tense and unsure. “Hi,” he replied.
The silence hung between you like a heavy curtain as you asked, "What...um...what are you doing here?" Your fingers instinctively ran through your slightly tangled hair as you waited for his response, feeling both overwhelmed and curious about this unexpected visit.
As he stood before you, he seemed to struggle with his words, his voice catching and pausing as if trying to contain an overwhelming emotion. You gazed at him in awe, taking in every detail of his changed appearance. The dimple in his cheek still deepened when he spoke, the same crystal eyes sparkled with unreadable emotions. But now his shoulders were broader, defined muscles rippling beneath his shirt, and his neck had thickened with strength. It was clear that time had passed, but it had only enhanced his features instead of diminishing them. "I," he finally managed to say, his gaze never leaving yours, "I came here to apologize." You couldn't believe he was standing in front of you after so long. And in this moment, all you could think about was how much you missed him and how different things could have been if he had stayed.
“Apologize?” You repeated, awaiting further clarification.
“I’ve missed you terribly.” He began to pour out, finally getting a grip on his words, “Every day we haven’t been together has haunted me. You’ve plagued my dreams, my every waking thought.” He took a swallow, “I see you online, doing amazing things, and I just feel this guilt that I’m not there with you.”
You could hardly believe the words he was saying. You felt the same, you missed him every morning you woke and every night you went to sleep. Yet you felt a tinge of resentment. He could have been there, he could have responded to your dozens of calls and texts.
“I’m sorry, mon chérie.” He finished his speech.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and your eyes watered with emotion, your face contorted with hurt. Your voice came out breathless as you spoke, "Char, why didn't you call?" Your heart ached with longing and you couldn't understand why he hadn't taken action to bridge the distance between you. The unspoken desire between you was almost tangible, making the current situation even more painful for both of you.
“My ex-girlfriend, once we got together she saw how often we communicated and told me that I couldn’t talk to you anymore. And I thought I loved her so much that I was willing to do whatever it took. But…it turns out…” He paused, looking you in the eyes.
“What?” You questioned, waiting for him to spit it out.
“It turns out as the years went on, that I just loved you.” He said as he stepped closer.
“You don’t mean that,” You denied shaking your head, a single tear running down your cheek.
“But I do,” he grabbed your hand, “I think I’ve always loved you.”
You broke out into a grin while tears still fell, and wrapped your arms around him, burying your head into his chest. “What took you so long?”
“I’m sorry mon amour, I guess I was just too stupid to actually do anything. But I love you, I love you so much.” His arms wrapped around your waist, kissing the top of your head.
You pulled back and placed your hands on his face, admiring his mature features. He took his thumbs to wipe off the tears on your face. “I love you too,” You told him and he grinned. “Will you finally kiss me?”
His lips met yours in a gentle, yet passionate, kiss. As your heart raced and butterflies fluttered in your stomach, you couldn't help but smile as his lips moved against yours. It was your first kiss with the love of your life, a moment that you would never forget.
You had always known deep down that he was the one for you, but you had spent so long convincing yourself that a friendship was all it could ever be. But now, as you felt the warmth of his embrace and the intensity of his kiss, you realized that the love of your life could also be your best friend - the person who knows and understands you better than anyone else in the world. And in that moment, you were grateful for every step that had led you to this perfect moment with him.
Charles had to return to his Formula One season, but the two of you called every day. He made it to shows on your tour when he could, and when you traveled to France to play your home show, he was there for every minute of it.
The crowd knew that this show was special, and fans had picked up on the new romance between you and Charles. Everyone was loving it, and older fans finally put the pieces together on the connection the two of you had. So for your home show, you played “Birds of a Feather” for everyone as a surprise, with Charles in attendance. The song had only changed meaning slightly, as you sang it with more love towards him than you’ve ever had before. Headlines were soon filled with your name along with his.
As the next year rolled around and January came, the two of you were inseparable at award shows, him proudly by your side for every one of your achievements. His smile lit up the room and his hand always found yours in the sea of people. Even when you won your first Grammy, he was there in all of your acceptance speeches, his eyes sparkling with pride.
As the year went on and you took a break from touring, you joined him on the road during his racing season. The roar of engines and smell of burning rubber filled your senses as you watched him race with skill and determination. The paddock quickly became like a second home to you, with fans flocking to meet the both of you. The Ferrari team welcomed you with open arms, treating you like family. It was a dream come true to be able to share this passion with him, and you couldn't imagine a better way to spend your time off.
Charles never dulled your shine; in fact, he basked in its radiance. He was not intimidated by your fame, but rather, he reveled in it. As you both shared stories about past relationships, Charles' understanding became apparent. He may have been known for different reasons, but he knew the highs and lows that came with celebrity status. Together, you formed an unbreakable bond of understanding and support. Life had become akin to heaven with Charles by your side, a constant source of love and grounding amidst the chaos of fame.
Together, you moved into a luxurious apartment in the heart of Monaco. The spacious living room had been transformed into your personal music studio, with instruments and recording equipment scattered about in organized chaos. The walls were adorned with posters from your past tours and handwritten lyrics. Charles stood by the window, looking out at the stunning view of the city below, while you strummed your guitar on the plush couch. The sense of security and stability he brought to your life was palpable - his presence assuring you that he would always be there, no matter where your music took you. As you played him your latest compositions, his fingers effortlessly danced across the keys of the piano, adding depth and richness to the melodies. Together, you created magic in that space - harmonizing not just in music but also in life.
As you laid in bed one night, your head rested on the pillow turned towards him, you caught him staring at you. You grinned, “What?”
“Nothing, I’ve just never seen someone more beautiful before in my life.” He told you in a low voice, smirking at you. You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing you should’ve expected him to shower you with compliments.
You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, “Je t’aime chéri.”
You both settled into bed, cuddled up next to each other. He kissed your temple, “Je t’aimerai toujours plus.”
#charles leclerc#f1 x reader#formula one#formula one fanfic#formula 1#formula 1 fanfic#f1 fanfic#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x female reader#f1 fic#f1#f1 imagine
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Omg Nika headcannons from you would be AMAZINGGGG she’s so gf
𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐀 𝐌Ü𝐇𝐋 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐂𝐒
꣑୧ — summary | just nika muhl as your girlfriend !!
— warnings | pure fluff !! nsfw @ the bottom , read at your own risk
my master list ㇀♡
a/n : yippeeee I’m finally writing for our croatian baddie !!! tysm for requesting and enjoy ! ◡̈
romantic gestures
we alllll know our girl is a romantic @ heart ! she loves planning candlelit dinners , stargazing dates , and giving you flowers every chance she gets just because !
you mean the world to her so she will always be looking for ways to show her love and appreciation for you 💌
physical activity (?) together
she lovessss being active with you !!! Whether it’s playing basketball (her personal fav) going on runs , or trying out new sports , she loves the bond that comes from shared physical activity ◡̈
heartfelt conversations
I feel like Nika would value deep , meaningful conversations.
she loved staying up late and talking about their dreams , fears , and everything in between.
she believes strong and concise communication is key to have a strong and healthy relationship 💗
affection
she is soooo protective over you !! she always wants to make sure you’re comfortable or safe (even if it means socking someone in the face)
&& our girl ISNT shy about showing affection ! Best believe her hand is always somewhere on your body. Whether your hands are intertwined or her hand is glued to your thigh , she loves having you near her !
random hcs !
she loves surprising you with little gestures like leaving sweet notes in unexpected places , planning surprise dates , or bringing home your favorite food & snacks !
I feel like she’d really enjoy adventurous dates that can range from climbing to hiking , as she loves experiencing new things especially if it’s with you 😋
LOVES cooking with you !! Best believe you’re often spending evenings in the kitchen , experimenting with new recipes , and sharing a glass of wine together. It’s your special time to connect and unwind :)
you both are each others biggest cheerleaders , always their to support your dreams and ambitions.
makes personal playlists for you !! Each playlist is carefully curated to reflect your relationship, filled with songs that remind her of you and your shared experience
she’s 1000% a dom. argue w a wall. I know she just loves the idea of taking care of you , ofc you want to please her as well but your pleasure is her top priority!
is a strap girly 10000% . will use her fingers if necessary but she swears she can feel u w her strap on
rough sex ??? (will be soft if asked / needed)
gets jealous super easily & is lowkey rlly possessive of u
I hc her as a service top , again ur pleasure > anything
overstimulation galoreee
one word ; her hands.
yayaya im so excited to begin writing more for nika ! rest assured , there’s more fics on the way ◡̈ thanks again for reading ◡̈
#wlw#wcbb#wlw imagine#wcbb x reader#my hcs#headcannons#nika mühl#nika muhl#nika muhl x reader#uconn x reader#uconn vs iowa#uconn wbb#uconn women’s basketball#uconn huskies
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It’s all you
my masterlist
+18!!!
pairing: Spencer Reid x male!reader
words: 2k
summary: You and Spencer just came back from your birthday dinner, and your boyfriend loves to quote poetry to you!
warnings: smut, fluff, grinding, no use of y/n (idk what else)
a/n: This was a request! I love the idea! This was my first time writing male!reader! I hope it’s kind of good? The poem Spencer recites is “The Hug” by Thom Gunn. I had fun writing this! I hope y'all like it! If anyone cares I promise I will eventually come back to my spencelle fic (maybe once the semester is over at my uni)!!! <3
The evening had settled into a comfortable quiet as you and Spencer lounged on the couch, the soft hum of the city beyond the window a distant murmur. The gentle light of the room cast warm shadows, adding to the intimacy of the moment.
Spencer sat with his legs tucked neatly under him, a relaxed smile on his face as he looked down at you, your legs draped across his lap. It was just after midnight, and you had both just come back from dinner with friends.
"Tonight was really something," you said, your voice a low murmur. "I think it's been a while since we all let loose like that… Since you let loose like that."
Spencer chuckled, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your calf. "It’s your birthday," he began, his voice soft and contemplative. "I’m happy you're happy."
You smiled, feeling the warmth of his touch. "I’m happy. Very happy."
"Good," Spencer said, then leaned his head back, eyes on the ceiling as he spoke softly.
“It was your birthday, we had drunk and dined
Half of the night with our old friend
Who'd showed us in the end
To a bed I reached in one drunk stride.
Already I lay snug,
And drowsy with the wine dozed on one side.”
You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sudden poetry in his words. "Huh?"
Spencer looked at you, his eyes filled with a tender sincerity. "It's a poem. Made me think of this moment right now."
You felt a shiver run down your spine, both from Spencer's words and the way his hand absentmindedly traced circles on your thigh. There was something about Spencer that captivated you.
Most people wouldn't expect him to quote romantic poems; they saw only the genius profiler, the encyclopedia of facts. But you knew the truth. Beneath his brilliant mind and analytical exterior, Spencer Reid was a romantic through and through.
He was perfect in his own unique way. His tousled hair, always slightly disheveled, and the way his eyes sparkled with excitement whenever he talked about something he loved, made your heart race.
Spencer had a certain charm, an endearing blend of intellect and innocence. He was often clueless about the effect he had on you, and others, for that matter. His gestures of affection were genuine, uncalculated, stemming from pure love and admiration.
He had never harbored ill intentions; his love was pure and unwavering. He was the type to remember the smallest details about you (whether he wanted to or not he would always remember but still it was sweet).
As you lay there, your legs draped over his lap, you couldn't help but feel incredibly lucky. Spencer's hand continued its gentle patterns on your thigh, his touch a soothing reminder of his presence. He looked at you, eyes filled with a tenderness that made your heart swell.
"You know," you began, your voice soft, "most people wouldn't consider you a romantic."
Spencer's brows furrowed slightly, a hint of confusion in his eyes. "Really? I never thought about it…”
You smiled, reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "That's because you don't see yourself the way I do. You have this incredible way of making everything feel... special. Your love, it's like poetry in motion."
A faint blush crept up Spencer's cheeks, and he ducked his head, a shy smile playing on his lips. "I just... I want you to know how much you mean to me. Sometimes words are all I have."
You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "And your words mean the world to me, Spencer. You mean the world to me."
Spencer's eyes softened, his hand still tracing gentle patterns on your thigh. "You mean the worlds to me," he whispered.
You both laughed softly, the warmth of the moment making everything feel even more special.
"Do you remember the rest of that poem?" you asked, a mischievous glint in your eye as you shifted your position, straddling Spencer's lap.
Spencer's smile widened, his hands instinctively moving to your hips. "You know I do," he said, chuckling softly.
Your heart skipped a beat at the way he looked at you, a blend of love and amusement. "Then, tell me. Start over." you urged, leaning in closer until your faces were just inches apart.
Spencer's eyes sparkled with the familiar light of his vast memory, but now there was something more—an awareness of the intimacy of the moment.
"It was your birthday," he began again, his voice low and velvety.
“We had drunk and dined
Half of the night with our old friend
Who’d showed us in the end
To a bed I reached in one drunk stride.
Already I lay snug,
And drowsy with the wine dozed on one side.”
You felt a shiver run down your spine, both from his words and the way his hands gently squeezed your hips. There was something incredibly hot about the way Spencer quoted poetry, the way the words flowed effortlessly from his lips. He had never thought about it that way, but it drove you wild.
“I dozed, I slept. My sleep broke on a hug,
Suddenly, from behind,
In which the full lengths of our bodies pressed:
Your instep to my heel,
My shoulder-blades against your chest.”
"That's so hot," you murmured, unable to resist pressing your lips to his. The kiss started soft and tender, but quickly deepened as the heat between you grew. Spencer suddenly broke it and continued.
“It was not sex, but I could feel
The whole strength of your body set,
Or braced, to mine,
And locking me to you
As if we were still twenty-two”
You couldn't help but be drawn to the soft, now raspier timbre of Spencer's voice. It was like music to your ears, a melody that stirred something deep within you. With each whispered word, each gentle breath, you felt yourself falling further under his spell.
As Spencer's hand continued its soothing motion on your thigh, you leaned in closer, your lips trailing feather-light kisses along his neck. You could feel the heat rising between you, a slow burn of desire that intensified with each passing moment.
His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as you continued your ministrations. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine and igniting a fire within you. You moved your hips in time with your kisses, a silent rhythm of passion and longing.
“When our grand passion had not yet
Become familial.
My quick sleep had deleted all
Of intervening time and place.
I only knew
The stay of your secure firm dry embrace.”
Spencer's breath hitched as your lips found that sweet spot just below his ear, and you reveled in the small gasp that escaped his lips. Lost in the moment, you let yourself be consumed by the heady sensation of being so close to him.
You could feel his heart pounding in his chest, matching the rhythm of your own. He broke the kiss just long enough to look into your eyes, his breath coming in soft pants.
"I never realized poetry could have this effect," he admitted, a hint of wonder in his voice.
You smiled, your hands cupping his face. "It's not just poetry, Spencer. It's you. The way you speak, the way you touch me... It's all you."
Spencer's eyes darkened with desire, and he pulled you into another kiss, more passionate than before. His hands explored your body with a newfound confidence, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through you.
With trembling hands, you began to unbutton Spencer's shirt, your fingers fumbling slightly with each small button. His breath caught in his throat as you peeled away the fabric, revealing the expanse of his chest beneath.
Spencer's touch was gentle yet firm as he helped you remove his shirt, his fingers grazing your skin with an electric intensity that sent shivers down your spine. With each article of clothing shed, the desire between you burned hotter, a relentless flame threatening to consume you both.
When it came time to remove your pants, you reluctantly pulled away from Spencer's embrace, causing him to emit a soft sigh at the loss of contact. You couldn't help but smile at his reaction, the affectionate gesture only fueling your desire further.
Quickly, you shed your own clothes, feeling a rush of exhilaration as you stood before Spencer completely exposed, completely vulnerable.
But there was no fear in that vulnerability, only a deep sense of trust and intimacy that bound you together. With a shared understanding of each other's desires, you quickly helped Spencer shed his pants, eager to feel his skin against yours once more.
As the last barrier between you fell away, you were left completely exposed, your bodies laid bare before each other. But in that moment, there was no room for self-consciousness or doubt, only the raw, unbridled passion that pulsed between you.
With a hunger that bordered on desperation, you lowered yourself back onto Spencer's lap, his hands finding purchase on your hips as he pulled you closer.
The heat of his skin against yours sent sparks flying. And as your bodies came together in a tangle of limbs and desire, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the overwhelming need to be as close to each other as humanly possible.
You started to move your hips, the urgent rhythm of your movements causing your now hard cock to graze against Spencer's. He hissed in response, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through both of you.
“You okay?” you asked, your voice laced with concern as you pressed closer to him.
“Yes, please keep going,” Spencer murmured, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
With a nod, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him tightly against you as you resumed your grinding. His arms enveloped you in a strong embrace, his touch sending waves of heat radiating through your body.
The room seemed to pulse with the rhythm of their desire, the air heavy with the intoxicating scent of your passion. The feel of Spencer's velvet skin against yours sent shivers down your spine, the sensation leaving you breathless and wanting more.
You were so close, the heat of your bodies pressing your cocks against your bellies, the friction sending sparks of pleasure. With each movement, you could hear the wet sounds of your bodies sliding against each other, the slickness of precum adding to the intensity of the moment.
Beads of sweat formed on your skin, glistening in the dim light of the room as you both worked towards release.
Undeterred, you continued to grind against him, the need for release driving you forward. Spencer's gasps and moans filled the room, mingling with your own as you moved together in a frantic rhythm. Your hands roamed over each other's bodies, grasping and pulling, desperate for more of each other.
With each passing moment, the air filled with the scent of sex and sweat, the heady aroma only adding to the overwhelming desire. His hair became matted and messy, sticking to his skin as he lost himself in the heat of the moment.
And then, in a moment of pure ecstasy, you both tasted sweet release, your bodies tensing as you came together in a symphony of bliss. Waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and spent, your bodies still pressed together in a tender embrace.
As you caught your breath, the room seemed to spin around you, the world reduced to nothing but the two of you lost in the aftermath.
There was nothing else in the world but the two of you, locked in a dance of desire and devotion. And as you pressed your lips to his, the world fell away, leaving only the intoxicating warmth of him.
#dr spencer reid#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid smut#criminal minds smut#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x male reader#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfics#mgg smut#reid#male reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x male!reader#male!reader#male!y/n#spencer reid one shot#doctor reid
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Skinny
Pairing: bf!Chris sturniolo x Reader
Wordcount: 700
Summary: you talk to your boyfriend about the internet (literally just the song skinny, by Billie Eilish)
Warnings: really short, angst(?), body image, the internet, hurt/comfort (?), direct quotes, idfk
(Litterally wrote this during a 1h car trip, so it’s rlly short. I was listening to the song while writing this. Hope you guys like it tho <3)
I recently met the triplets in LA. We quickly became friends, but I always felt drawn to Chris the most.
Sure they’re all considerably hot, but there was just something about Chris that made me feel something..
Turns out I wasn’t the only one that felt it, and soon enough Chris confessed to me. Wich meant a lot, considering he has commitment issues, but he was willing to commit… for me?
We dated for a while until I realized,
I fell in love for the first time.
I may only be 20, but those 20 years felt so eternally long. Chris was everything I’d been waiting for all my life, being the hopeless romantic.
I started to go to the gym more often, and eat healthier. Not for any other reason then, I was happy.
I also started to notice that Chris’ Pepsi habits got better, and he started to eat healthier as well.
We were talking one day, both of us sitting on opposite sides of Chris’ bed.
“People say I look happy, just because I got skinny.” I sigh.
The only reason why I look happier is because I have a working healthy relationship, because I’m in love. Not because my body changed.
Chris tilts his head to the side his eyes slightly furrowed as if asking me if I’m serious.
But the ‘old’ me was still me. Maybe even the real me, my actual personality when I’m on my own, And I think she is pretty.
I never really had body image issues. I never struggled with eating.
I got famous pretty young, like 17 or so. And back then I was a kid, of corse I liked to eat. I wasn’t even that big really. I was just a kid, I didn’t care about it too much.
I’m not magically happier than I was before. I still cry.
“People say I’m acting my age now.” I sigh. “Am I already on the way out, am I ‘falling off’?”
Chris tilts his head not saying anything just trying to process my words. As if my words are outlandish to him.
“I feel like a bird in a cage, you know. With all these expectations and rumors.” I sigh softly. All these things have been bugging me for a while.
“I’m sorry.” He looks at me with not pitty but understanding. “You were my secret,” when we started dating we hadn’t told the internet. “- and I didn’t get to keep it”
But like couples do we would go out on dates. With both of us being touchy people, PDA was big. But a random fan took a picture of us kissing and it spread like wildfire.
I sigh heavily at the memories. How betrayed I had felt by those so called fans looking into my business.
“The internet is hungry for the meanest kind of funny, and somebody’s gotta feed it.” I purse my lips closing my eyes briefly.
“I suppose that’s true” Chris breaths out his eyes locked on mine.
“People really think suddenly all my problems are gone and I’m all happy, not because I’m in a healthy and stable relationship but because i got skinny.” I huff working myself up, and getting angrier and angrier at something that seems like nothing.
“Do you still cry?” I ask rhetorically, my previous breathy and small voice now loud and clear. “I mean I do.” I reply to my own question.
I look at my boyfriend and the way he looks back at me with such understanding.
We look at each other in silence. “I love you. And I’ve loved you for so long. And that’s not going to change.”
Chris says firmly a small gentle smile forming on his lips. Chris opens his arms waiting for me to come to him.
I’m not upset per se, it’s just annoying seeing people comment on my body and happiness and whatnot. It’s none of their business.
I’m a content creator. I didn’t ask for them to criticize me.
I sit up shuffling over to Chris. I let myself fall into his embrace.
But in Chris’, the love of my life’s arms, like this, it doesn’t matter anyway.
Masterlist
A/N: hope you guys like this style of writing. If h goys want to be on the taglist comment. Asks & requests are open 💕
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life , @h3arts4harry , @whosthislyssbitch , @jamiesturniolo , @sturniololover-09 , @zayyluvz , @sturnzsblog
#Spotify#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x y/n#chris sturniolo x you#chris x reader#christopher sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo smut#sturniolo fluff#sturniolo angst#matthew sturniolo x reader#sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#christopher sturniolo x reader smut#matt sturniolo x you#sturniolo fanfic#billie eilish
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STURNIOLO TRIPLETS AT HOGWARTS HEADCANONS
a/n - this is all my opinion!! I would love to hear what y'all think about this if you fuck with harry potter
this is an au where the plot of voldemort does not exist btw**
____________________________________________
NICK
probably balled his eyes out when the Hogwarts acceptance letter came (even though it was expected) mary lou definitely hung it up on the wall
definitely got into slytherin (he's so cunt and ambitions)
would be great friends with pansy, they would spend time people watching and making hilarious commentary
would think draco is the most insufferable loser to ever exist and would constantly laugh at him when he's being whiney and dramatic over something stupid
probably the photographer for the school
also at every hufflepuff and gryffindor quidditch game cheering for his brothers even if they're facing his own house
probably has his own side business making herbal salves, etc.
would fucking love astronomy and herbology
would threaten to cast a spell on Chris all the time that would silence him (wouldn't be surprising if he actually did)
constantly taking pictures of his friends and his brothers and making cute little photo albums to commemorate his experiences
definitely attaching cute lil trinkets and pins to his robes and his bags
CHRIS
got into gryffindor (no one's surprised)
expressed how proud he is of his brothers for the house they got into (even though he's really sad they aren't all going to room together)
sneaks out of his dorms occasionally to take turns sleeping in his brothers' dorms
100% on the quidditch team as a chaser
definitely hangouts with fred and george causing mayhem
has the girls at hogwarts wrapped around his fucking fingers but actively avoids any type of romantic situation
probably be a part of the dueling club
would love going to hogsmeade for shopping and for the pubs
would absolutely hex himself by accident, multiple times in fact
absolutely getting caught on many occasions sneaking into the kitchens for sweet treats
probably has a butterbeer addiction
would use any excuse he can to not wear his robes (they're too thick and heavy)
asks the most wild outlandish questions in class leaving the profs too stunned to speak
MATT
obviously in hufflepuff even though he was sure he'd get into gryffindor with chris
also on his house's quidditch team but as the keeper (we already know he has goalie skills)
when he isn't with his brothers or in class he spends his time reading with hermione at the library or with luna and neville at the lake journaling
if there was a hogwarts student paper he would definitely be in charge of the anonymous advice section
would spend his weekends trapping himself in his dorms until someone literally drags him away from his bed
would adore mythical creatures classes
his pet of choice is most definitely a cat
probably going to hagrids daily to help him with his animals and listen to his stories
closest to luna and neville because he will be content just sitting there listening to them ramble on about creatures and magical plants
best flyer (neck and neck with harry)
goes on late night broom rides with harry
you can probably find him at the top of the astronomy tower or at the edge of the black lake in the middle of the night just enjoying some peace and quiet
would get extremely homesick while at hogwarts and he counts down to post days so he can receive letters from his friends and family back home (even though he rarely writes them back)
__________________________________________
tell me some of your headcanons for the triplets at hogwarts!!
#sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#hogwarts#harry potter#harry potter au#headcanon
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Four eps in, The Midnight Romance in Hagwon is absolutely fascinating me. It's very understated and restrained compared to almost anything else I've watched lately, the night shots (especially in the office and the leads' houses) are lit realistically which gives it a very intimate mood, and the scenes linger in a way that makes me feel a little uncomfortable, like I'm intruding on these people's real lives and am just on the verge of overstaying my welcome. It's the perfect match for the uncertainty that underlies the plot.
Another thing I love is that so many of the characters' feelings are shown instead of told and yet they're also impossible to miss, the actors' body language and the framing of the shots makes the truth evident even when the characters are trying to deny it. I feel like I'm being invited to draw my own conclusions as an intelligent viewer, while at the same time never feeling left behind by the director and scriptwriter trying to show off their own cleverness at my expense.
I also read a long Reddit comment this week by someone familiar with the politics and cultural tensions involved in the school and hagwon system in Korea, and it was exciting to realize that many of the subtleties she was pointing out were ones I'd already inferred from context, even though that system is unfamiliar to me as a North American viewer. The direction and writing is just that good.
I'm starting to think the title of this drama might be as misleading as Crash Course in Romance was, in that yes there is romance but it's definitely not the main focus of the plot. At least so far, it's been much more of a slice of life drama with romantic undertones (mostly consisting of Wi Ha Joon being an absolutely lethal flirt, bless). But I'm not mad about it. It's reminding me of My Liberation Notes in all the best ways, and if the quality stays consistent throughout it may end up becoming one of my favourite dramas.
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To @auroraesmeraldarose - I said I would write something romantic for you so here it is. With only a sprinkling of angst (because I just can't help it) - I present to you:
The List.
Romance/Angst/Mostly comfort (I hope) - 1397 words Gale x Tav (They/Them no description) - SFW
Gale had watched for some time how Tav had scribbled on the notepad before gazing into the campfire as if searching for the answers buried in the ashes. Their head would lift only to fall again, a word being written, then erased. It reminded him of his own days with a mostly drunk glass of red wine and a quill in hand, trying to come up with the next line of poetry that cause the lover to fall to their knees for him.
He slowly approached, his heart increasing its pace with the apprehension of what was to come. He enjoyed Tav’s company, always feeling he was learning something new. Being seen for who I am. Tav was a good person, one that had helped, listened to everyone, cared more than anyone he had ever met before, and despite the more pronounced ache he felt whenever he was near them, he fought through it for the quiet moments alone with them. He remembered the night channelling the weave, the way their hands had brushed up against one another, the way he had felt their longing, and the image of a tender kiss placed on his lips. Is this love? No, not for me. It can’t be.
He swallowed nervously before he spoke. “My friend, may I ask what it is you are writing?”
Tav jumped a little, surprised by Gale’s sudden words, and placed the paper face down onto their lap. “This? Nothing… nothing at all.”
Gale nodded his head and took a small step back, trying not to acknowledge the feeling of rejection that was surfacing beneath his pleasant expression. “Ah, my apologies then. I will leave you to your thoughts.” He turned to go back to his tent as he heard the hesitant voice behind him.
“No…” Tav pushed their hair back and relaxed their shoulders. “Join me, please.”
Gale tried to hide his enthusiasm at this simple gesture. He was aware his year alone had made him too eager for basic conversation and he’d now got into a habit of remaining distant with people. Part of him was aware his social skills had diminished, and another part didn’t want him to form connections based on his own dwindling condition. He placed himself next to Tav, keeping a respectable distance and ignoring the dull thrum of the orb excited at the prospects.
Tav lowered their head, a soft smile masked by the focus of turning over the pages and looking at the cluttered mess on the paper. “I don’t think you would want to help me so much if you knew what it was I was writing.”
Gale placed a comforting hand on Tav’s arm, feeling the delicate cotton of the shirt under his palm. Warmth rose in his cheeks, and he silently cursed his body for betraying him. A glade of calm and tranquillity. “Well, let me be the one to decide upon that. As you know, I’m quite the connoisseur of the literary arts. Even Volo’s poetry has not turned me away from reading or writing.”
Tav chuckled at his response. “You know how tomorrow we are going to the Goblin Camp? There’s a real chance we might not…” They danced around the words, trying not to appear insensitive but ultimately giving up. “We might die.”
“Hm.” Gale understood perfectly why Tav was struggling and why they hadn’t initially wanted to discuss this with him. Talking about potential death with someone destined to die was not the easiest of conversations to have. How could they even relate to his situation? “So, you are writing your last wishes, I assume?”
Tav wordlessly handed over the paper and Gale held it towards the firelight, trying to make out the scrawl in front of him. The handwriting was unique to say the least, but the out of context words made it all even more peculiar. Stars…. Hollyphant…. Falling… “Tav, I may be able to decipher some of the most ancient of texts, but I must say, this has me baffled.”
Their voice was quiet as they replied, embarrassed by the list that lay between them. “It’s a bucket list.”
“But my dear, I have little doubt that you will survive the days to come. Why create something like this?” A small part of him felt heartbroken to even think of Tav’s death as imminent and yet a part of him was curious. What dreams lay in his friend’s mind? Could any of them ever hold a small place for me?
“I wish I had your optimism. No, I’m making it because all this-“ They gestured to their head, the tadpole writhing within. “-It just reminds me that life isn’t as long as it was before. That each day moments go by that I should have seized. From the big things, like travelling and love…” They looked over at him with a softness in their eyes that made him wish he could just kiss them there and then. “…To the little things, like watching the stars at night, or giving a gift to a friend.”
Gale looked curiously at the list, trying to make out more of the words. Falling in… “You’ve done none of these things before?”
Tav shook their head. “Time just seems to escape me. We have so few stars in the city and if I’m honest, I’ve never had many friends.”
“Hm, that I can unfortunately relate to. Might I offer a suggestion, though?” He moved closer to them, his heart thumping, his mind rushing through various scenarios over various outcomes. Kiss them. It’s too soon. Wind your fingers in between theirs. Hold them and never let go. Love them. Falling in love…
“And what might that be? Compare notes? I can assure you; my list will be longer and more pathetic.”
He placed his hand over theirs, trying to act casual and not bring attention to the vulnerable state he was putting his body in at this moment; the orb screaming into his system at the proximity of another person after so long. “No, my dear, let me have the list. Think of it as a gift, a puzzle that I can work on during the long nights. And from there, maybe I can assist you with the rest of your wishes.”
Tav smiled, scratching off a line from the paper. “I guess that makes it one wish fulfilled, then.”
Gazing at each other, they both seemed to become lost in one another’s eyes, an unknown energy pulling them together that neither wanted to fight against. Tav brought their hand to Gale’s face, both coming together wishing to make the previously imagined kiss a reality. He could feel the heat of Tav’s breath upon his lips, smell the earth and pine from their clothes, and in that moment, he wanted them. He wanted nothing more than to feel those lips upon his and lose himself in them.
It started with a pinching in his hand but slowly grew; the orb letting both be aware of its presence and Gale was forced to pull himself back, attempting to make his body relax from the tension. He looked at Tav, his deep brown eyes apologetic, a feeling as if he had been misleading them. I’m sorry for what I am.
Tav brought their hand away as Gale had flinched backwards in clear pain. “Are you okay?”
“Do not concern yourself with me. It’s just with my condition…” He sighed deeply, wishing it didn’t have to be this way.
“I understand.”
Tav pulled themselves close to him, so they were sitting shoulder to shoulder, still touching, but no longer as intimately. He gazed at them as they looked up towards the sky, and he traced the line of their neck up to their jaw, imagining gentle kisses being placed and their hair draped over his face as he nuzzled into them.
“I suppose this is another I can cross off already.”
Gale drew his attention from his friend, instead following their line-of-sight upwards. The sky was clear of clouds, allowing the stars to shine down on them brightly and they sat for some time in silence, enjoying the quiet moment together.
Eventually, sleep beckoned and Tav retired to their tent, leaving Gale alone under the night sky with his thoughts. I could create stars like this for you… I would become a star for you.
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#bg3 gale#gale of waterdeep#gale dekarios#gale bg3#bg3 fanfiction#galemance#im sorry if there is angst#i tried#really i did
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ℂ𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕫𝕖
Pairing: Xavier x Fem!Reader
Words: ~3.2k
Genre: Angst, Hurt/No Comfort
Notice: Mentions of infidelity, blood, and wound, Y/N is not MC
A/N: @brailsthesmolgurl requested angst, I hope this one is painful enough 💔 May or may not consider writing a part 2.
Clang!
The sound of the thrown stick echoed across the training room. A pair of cerulean orbs locked with yours, amazement reflected in their depths.
“That’s a lot of pent-up…energy,” your partner—professionally and romantically—fixed his attention on the wooden stick grazing his Adam's apple as he spoke.
If it was your hunter scythe, his skin would be sliced open.
You lowered it down, the adrenaline rush fading as the throbbing sensation in your knee took over. A sharp stab of pain that left your whole leg numb.
Ungracefully, you collapsed to the floor. Xavier’s hand was on your side in an instant, seeing how your face had crumpled in agony.
“You have a lot on your mind.” He felt you tensed, yet didn’t stop massaging your knee. His touch continued to work its magic, sending ripples of relief through you.
“I’m losing my touch, this desk duty is weakening me.”
“You just literally disarmed me,” he reminded, “Does this have to do with the team assignment?”
Whenever a new batch arrived, they were divided into groups with senior hunters overseeing their missions initially.
Xavier's involvement was to be expected, much like your own participation before the injury.
“Do you have anything against a particular recruit?” he treaded carefully.
You had nothing against the woman—whom you later discovered was Dr. Zayne's childhood friend and suspected the stoic doctor had a soft spot for—when you saw them together in a café a few times. In fact, she was quite a lovely woman.
What unsettled you was Xavier's uncharacteristic ease in opening up to her, despite his usual reservations with strangers.
“No,” you answered genuinely, “but do you have anything you’d like to tell me?”
Xavier’s fingers paused. “What do you mean by that?”
“I don’t know, Xav, you seem distracted lately.”
How could you miss the way his eyes sought out the junior hunter every morning when she arrived, even when you both were engaged in a conversation?
Or how could you miss his unmistakable comfortable stance as he interacted with the hunter, when the ring of her laughter filled up the bullpen?
His eyes slid sideways. “I need to focus on supervising the recruits, Captain Jenna's counting on me.”
Drawing closer, Xavier reached out, hand tenderly cupping your cheek. “I’m sorry if I’ve been distant.”
He noticed you biting down on your lips, wearing them out. It was the first time he had seen you visibly unsettled.
“If this is truly affecting you, I can ask someone else to take over my place.”
“No, it’s fine.”
You wouldn't allow yourself to be the reason he stepped back from his responsibilities, even if it meant sacrificing your own peace of mind.
“Just... please, talk to me if there's ever something on your mind,” you urged softly.
Xavier pressed his lips gently against your forehead. Even as the warmth of his kiss enveloped you, it couldn't dispel the pang of unease gnawing at the edges of your thoughts like it normally did.
The gnawing uneasiness, though, was justified.
With each passing day, his subtle mentions and veiled references of her painted your conversations.
It became even more apparent as your keen eyes caught glimpses of the growing sparkle in his gaze, the way his eyes slightly lingered on her, speaking volumes.
It might have gone unnoticed by others, but not you.
Not when you had once recognised the same tender looks directed towards you, before the two of you became a couple.
“Will you, for once, stop bringing her up?”
The room plunged into a tense silence, even the rhythmic tick-tick-tick of Jeremiah's fingers typing came to a sudden halt.
“Uh I’ll step out—”
“Jeremiah, sit down,” your tone was firm, leaving no room for refusal.
Jeremiah, halfway rising from his seat, abruptly sat back down with a plop! onto the chair beneath him.
Perched at the edge of Jeremiah's desk, you faced Xavier across the wooden table, the recent activity on the No-Hunt Zone forgotten as he got startled by your harsh remarks. Mouth slightly hanging open as he didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.
“Tell me, Jeremiah, did he or did he not have been casually mentioning her for the past fifteen minutes?”
The poor guy had his eyes ping-ponged between the two of you. Torn between defending his longtime friend or you—the second person he would trust his life with.
“He did,” Jeremiah eventually admitted in a tiny voice, sinking even lower into his seat upon receiving a look of exasperation from Xavier.
In a way, you felt relieved knowing that the creeping vines of jealousy within your heart didn't merely blind you to making things up.
Grateful, that someone else had also come to realise it, validating your feelings.
You watched as Xavier's eyes finally bore into yours, uncertainty swimming in their depths.
Whatever emotion reflected in your eyes caused his breath to falter, finally making him aware of the jagged rift that had gradually formed between you.
“It’s been a couple of months now. You sure there’s nothing you’d like to tell me?”
Despite the cool front, you were aware of the pain piercing your heart.
The weight of embarrassment from having Jeremiah witness the unraveling of something that had once felt solid, so unbreakable.
Xavier took a daring step, as if to bridge the gap. “Y/N, I—”
Before he could finish, yours and his hunter watches lit up red, signaling an urgent notification. A warning voice thundered not a second later.
「All available senior hunters are to report back to UNICORNS
Massive Metaflux fluctuations detected at Stormcrown Summit」
With a quick "Catch you later" tossed back to Jeremiah, you were already on the move the moment the first words reached your ears.
Xavier stepped in front of your 310HM, a dangerous move as you were mere seconds away from twisting the throttle. “Please, your knee can't handle it. You'll only end up hurting yourself.”
“Now is not the time to suddenly show concern for me again,” you retorted sharply.
As you revved up the engine, he stepped back, his face troubled. And you left him behind, knowing fully well he would make it back before you either way.
The bustling HQ buzzed with urgency as hunters within a 25km radius received the emergency alert. Frantic voices and swift footsteps filling up the walls.
Walking straight to Captain Jenna, you were greeted with an all-too-familiar grimace; the same expression she had worn when she caught you in the training room instead of attending physical therapy for your injury.
“Senior hunter Y/N, reporting for duty.” Your gaze met hers head-on.
The captain sighed, slightly shaking her head as if to clear the mounting stress. “We are in dire need of all hands on deck. Some senior hunters are away on missions far from Linkon, and we’ve resorted to sending some of the best recruits.”
Despite having earned her approval, she still gave you a warning look.
“You head back when your knee starts hurting, and”—her stern gaze warned you that there would be consequences if you ever considered defying her command—“you are not to wander alone without a partner.”
Your hand instantly reached out to one of the passing hunters, luckily snatching someone you had worked together with in previous missions occasionally, noting their above-average skills.
The fluttered brows of Captain Jenna didn’t go amiss. A look of confusion passed between her and the hunter, questioning your choice of a different partner than the usual one.
Towering trees at the Stormcrown Summit were shrouded in mist, casting an aura of unpredictability over the landscape. The occasional rustle of leaves heightened your senses further, escalating the tension of the unknown lurking within.
A very much missed surge of adrenaline fueled your body as you ventured deeper into the dense forest.
“I’m surprised that you did not choose Xavier as your partner,” your companion—Adrian—initiated a conversation after the two of you eliminated some roaming Mist Knaves.
“He is busy supervising the newer guys.”
"Seems to be warming up faster than he normally would, isn’t he?"
Damn it, you forgot how one of his best skills included perceptiveness.
A short distance away, Xavier’s group made their way towards the clearing. The worried glances cast in your direction didn’t go unnoticed before the gigantic trees obscure your view.
“It’s very unexpected of him,” Adrian commented, watching the exchange between you both.
“People change,” you bit out, fully aware that you had fallen into the trap, indirectly confirming that something had indeed happened between you and Xavier.
The conversation was cut off when several Velox Venators leaped out from behind the thick foliage.
Their agility presented a challenge after spending time confined to the desk.
“As much as I love having you back on the team”—your partner’s voice rang out as he leaped back, avoiding the swing of your obsidian scythe cutting through the last beast’s tough silver hide—“it would be a shame to see you permanently sitting behind a desk after this.”
The sudden pouring thunderstorm had made the ground mushy, amplifying the pressure on your knee. Concealing the grimace of discomfort became futile at this point.
You followed his instruction to rest once the danger was cleared up, welcoming the temporary bliss of taking the pressure off your knee.
Just as you were about to truly relax, the urgent shouting of one of the hunters crackled through both of your hunter's watches, jolting you back to attention.
「Requesting backup at coordinates 45.6789° N, 87.6543° W
2 injured hunters, surrounded by Elite Wanderers, recruits extraction needed」
Profanities escaped Adrian’s mouth as he followed your leading figure closely behind, navigating through the woods with the programmed coordinates in the watch.
As you reached the clearing, you took in the scene before you. Several senior hunters had come to aid, engaged in a battle against a handful of Thunderoars.
That explained the abnormal thunderstorm.
However, a movement in your peripheral vision caught your attention, drawing your focus to a lone female hunter facing a feline predator. Its build was unusually large compared to the ones you typically encountered.
The beast had curled its tail, its sharp edge gleaming with an ominous sheen, poised to strike.
“Shit!” You sprinted forward as you watched her moment of hesitation. A hesitation that could kill her.
White, blinding pain shot up your leg as you lunged forward, pushing the recruit from the line of attack.
The searing pain in your abdomen came next, stealing the air from your lungs.
There wasn't enough time to dodge the razor-sharp tail as you staggered both from the momentum and the uneven, soft terrain.
The ground rumbled as thorny vines quickly encircled each of the Spurtail’s legs, ensnaring it in a tight grip.
Even amidst the haze of agonizing pain, your Evol reacted, defending its owner.
You pushed through the pain, striking the Wanderer’s broken protocore shield as it trashed against the barbed tendrils that had nearly swallowed its form.
A wave of exhaustion washed over you as the Spurtail deteriorated. The earth tilted and your knees buckled, scythe slipping from your grasp, clattering to the ground.
When the tell-tale sign of darkness crept into your vision, a glimmer of light danced off a familiar light-ash blonde.
His long legs raced towards you. Running, running, and running…
Past you.
“Y/N, Y/N! Are you still with me?”
Captain Jenna’s face appeared in your line of vision, lips set into a grim line.
When was your back lowered to the ground?
The sky above had cleared up, you realised. A stark difference from the gloom descending upon your heart like a heavy rain.
“Come on, Y/N, you gotta stay with us. You're stronger than you thought.”
The agony intensified as you registered a pair of hands pressing down on your abdomen. A guttural groan ripping out of your throat.
Pearl-red blood, your blood, stained her hands as she tapped your cheeks, desperate to have your focus on her.
“Hey, you can’t leave us, do you hear me?!”
The darkness was almost overwhelming at this point, the words that Captain Jenna shouted becoming incoherent in your ears.
For the first time, you witnessed a look of terror overtaking her eyes as they briefly flickered down to your abdomen once again.
It was unsettling. The mature woman was not one to show such raw emotion frequently.
As your head drooped to the side, you caught a glimpse of his outline crouching beside the female hunter you had pushed away.
Close in proximity, yet intolerably distant.
There was a longing for those blue orbs to be the last thing you looked at before the darkness consumed everything.
Even with the soothing hum of the medical equipment in the backdrop, a sense of alarm began to creep in as you felt the shift in the air.
“Didn’t the nurse say no visits?”
It only took one air evacuation, just like in those action movies and medical dramas, for people to flock to your bedside once you were out of the ICU.
On the third day, you asked the nurses to refuse any visitors, craving solitude.
“I… may have walked past them.”
By “walked”, it meant that he had teleported to the room. There wasn't a sound of the door opening and closing.
Adrian’s self-blame was predictable, given that he was supposed to stick with you during the mission.
Captain Jenna’s shift from relief to light scolding didn't come as a surprise either.
Even the junior hunter’s profuse apologies were manageable.
Seeing Xavier’s guilt-stricken face several steps away from your bed, however, unleashed a whirlwind of emotion you weren’t sure you were ready to cope with.
“I should have been the one in that bed, not you.”
Your laugh was devoid of humour. “Why? So you can be her hero instead?”
“No!” Distress was evident in his voice and posture as he rushed towards you. “You shouldn't have to endure this. You shouldn't even have joined the mission.”
“We get hurt, it’s part of the job.”
“You almost died!” voice cracking, he collapsed into the seat beside your bed, head buried in hands.
Years of knowing Xavier and that was the first time you had seen him crumble. Gone was his usual calm exterior, replaced by a broken man, drowning in regret.
Even then, your battered heart couldn’t stop the trembling remark, heavy with disappointment and anguish, from escaping your lips, “Yet you ran past me.”
Doe eyes, bright with unshed tears, snapped to yours.
People had said that traumatic events may lead to memory loss, but that day was etched vividly in your mind, each detail imprinted like a nightmare festering in your brain.
“Y/N—”
“Anything you say will not change the fact that things will never be the same between us.”
His face fell, mouth opening and closing, but no words came out.
Finally, he settled on a meek plea, “Please forgive me.”
You breathed out, slowly adjusting your position on the bed. Face laced in discomfort as you felt the stitches being tugged.
You were lucky, so to speak, as the Spurtail’s strike narrowly avoided any internal organs. But, the gash was pretty deep, resulting in a significant amount of blood loss.
“Did you know that you used to look at me the same way?” the words tumbled out, a rhetorical question that had been lingering on the tip of your tongue for far too long.
He couldn't refute anything.
A sad smile painted your lips. “That should’ve been my only warning, yet I still hopelessly had faith in you.”
If it was possible, the guilt etched on his face deepened. He couldn’t miss the shift to past tense in your words, a bold declaration of the trust he had shattered.
“Whether you realised it or not, you’ve made your choice, Xavier. It’s time to put an end to this—to us.”
The blooms that Jeremiah had placed on the windowsill the day before suddenly lost their luster, mirroring the drastic change in emotion happening within you.
Xavier’s eyes flickered to the pot, helplessly watching the wilted petals droop, surrendering to the vines creeping up from the soil and entangling them with their thorny embrace.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” his words hang heavily in the air.
You didn’t tell him that he was wrong. No, the deep wound he had inflicted could never be healed by words alone.
Eyes fluttering closed, you were determined to keep the tears at bay. “Please close the door on your way out.”
After a few weeks that felt excessively long, you eventually received the green light to return to work.
The desk will be your friend longer, unfortunately, until you fully complete the knee therapy and succeed the reevaluation exam, as per Captain Jenna’s order.
Adrian, still feeling at fault, was determined to fill you in with what had happened while you were gone. Including the gossip.
You were the least surprised to hear about the relationship between Dr. Zayne and the recruit.
If the doctor’s visits during your hospital stay—expressing multiple gratitudes for saving his childhood friend and making sure you had the best care—weren’t any indicator, then you might as well be dense.
“He’s been very closed off,” Adrian remarked as your eyes strayed towards Xavier.
The lone hunter was back to distancing himself from everyone, taking solo missions and not talking unless prompted to.
He was just doing what he did best: tracking down Wanderers and not socializing.
But, you noticed the freshly brewed coffee every morning on your desk, made just the way you liked it.
You noticed the hot packs appearing whenever your face pulled in discomfort from the stiffness of your knee.
Noticed that he never left before you, even when he had the rest of the day off after returning early from a mission.
Noticed, the stolen glances he sent your way.
Was it because he felt consumed by guilt? Or was it because he had to swallow his own bitter pill, watching someone he cared about chose another person?
“They still have your favourite egg tarts.”
Startled, you looked up from the monitor to see Xavier setting two food bags on your desk.
It was the first time he had spoken directly since your return.
When you saw him leave earlier, you thought that he had finally given up and gone home, as you persisted in gathering information about the threatening Elite Wanderer well past working hours.
Even Captain Jenna left first, leaving you alone in the bullpen as the night shift went to grab dinner.
“Thank you,” you murmured gratefully. You opened the bags to reveal a sandwich in one and the egg tarts you used to enjoy together in the other.
Without hesitation, you handed him one of the pastries before he could step away. His eyes widened slightly before accepting it with a faint smile, a sight you hadn't seen in so long.
In the dimly lit room, Xavier’s eyes gleamed like the depths of the night sky, each gaze resembling a twinkling star in a vast galaxy.
It would have been easy to give in to those eyes, to his profound concerns.
But the scar left a permanent mark.
And you were still not able to distinguish whether its sight reopened an old wound or if it proved that you had truly healed.
#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook#love and deepspace#lads#l&ds#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace x y/n#love and deepspace x you#xavier#xavier x reader#xavier x y/n#xavier x you#angst#hurt/no comfort
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idk if someone else asked you this but: what's your fav interpretation of snily? platonic or romantic? (my fav is platonic, but tbh i love any version of them that still respecting their tragedy)
ok lads, here we, here we, here we fucking go...
i like snily a lot - as both a platonic and a romantic pairing - because i think it has so much potential to be really interesting - and, above all, that it's interesting because it's a great relationship for an author to use to directly undercut a lot of tropes about love [romantic or otherwise] which both the canon series and vast amounts of fanfiction use uncritically.
by which i mean, it's not a big, epic, written-in-the-stars love story. it's not inevitable - it's not ginny "never giving up" on harry - and it's not romcom-happy-ending-perfect - the way james and lily's relationship is described by everyone who ever speaks about them - and it's not a perfect blending of two halves of the same soul - there's no timeline in which we could hear mcgonagall saying "you never saw one without the other", as she does about james and sirius - and it never could be.
but what it can be - much like remadora, which i think is genuinely one of snily's closest parallels - is evidence that love which is none of these things has the capacity to be just as transformative, just as meaningful, as just as worth an author's time.
and - of course - has the capacity to be possible. i'm not going to bother with the argument that snily is impossible to write in a canon-coherent way [or impossible to write without it being abusive] - and i'm especially not going to bother with the argument that it's immoral to see as a plausible pairing. thinking this is a skill issue - a refusal to grapple with several of the fundamental truths about being human: that redemption is possible; that forgiveness - even of the gravest sins - is possible too; that love is strange and unpredictable; and that there is nobody - not a single soul - on earth who is unworthy of it.
which is why - of course - my favourite flavour of snily is one in which james dies in 1981 [maybe he's the one who won't stand aside, maybe the magic which causes the killing curse to rebound doesn't need to hinge on choice, and so on] but she and harry live, and that - in order to try and ground herself in the face of her shattering grief - she returns to cokeworth, seeking a reminder of the certainty of childhood which she can cling to at a time when everything else is out of control.
that snape would be lurking about is unsurprising - the man clings to the certainties of his childhood [even if these certainties are much less happy than lily's] like a limpet. he's still living at spinner's end, seething about james and sirius - stuck in the past and unwilling to move on to the future.
and not only stuck in the past, but stuck on a fantasy.
it's clear in canon that snape and lily's major issue - prior to the break in their friendship which we see in snape's worst memory - is that neither of them ever takes the other as they actually are. the lily of snape's head is a construct - especially after her death - and the snape of lily's head is the same.
lily - even in the few pages of her we see in canon - seems to be stuck viewing snape as the child, devoted exclusively to her, whose role was to teach her about the wonderful world of magic, and who acted primarily as a tool of her own self-actualisation.
this is why she can’t understand why snape is so embarrassed by the way his poverty makes him stand out at hogwarts, and why this would make him want to fit in with the sort of purebloods she clearly thinks are awful. it's why she doesn't understand his need for reassurance when it comes to whether his [platonic] affection for her is reciprocated. it's why she doesn't take what happens to him at the marauders' hand seriously until she's made an explicit part of it by james. and it's also why she doesn't engage with snape's radicalisation until she literally can't ignore it anymore. mulciber and avery can be figures she loathes - and figures she recognises as potential death eaters - because she regards them as having the agency to be bad people if they so desire. but snape isn't someone she sees as existing for himself or having a life of his own, until his behaviour is so egregious that it forces the scales to fall from her eyes. he exists for her.
and snape is the same. he sees himself as the person who gave lily the wizarding world and, therefore, as the person who gets to dictate how she understands it.
this is why he can't understand what it is about mulciber's use of dark magic which appalls her [as a teenager, he, like voldemort, clearly thinks that applying boundaries to which sort of magic can or should be practised is nanny-state gatekeeping]. it's why he doesn't understand why it upsets her when he's rude to petunia and why he fails to grasp that she can simultaneously have a difficult relationship with her sister and love and value her. it's why he dislikes her forming her own views on the marauders, instead of agreeing with his. and it's why he thinks lily's hatred of the death eaters is stupid - he believes [undoubtedly correctly, given voldemort's relationship with him] that joining the organisation will allow him to transcend the restrictions imposed upon him by his muggle father and social class, and he is incapable of seeing how this wouldn't be the case for lily. she exists for him.
teen snily exists within this context - and i think there's something sincerely interesting which can be done with an exploration of their friendship [including that friendship turning into a romantic relationship] which takes the fact that the two people involved have to confront their mutual insistence on loving an imagined version of the other into account. maybe it crashes and burns - as it does in canon, when snape and lily see each other clearly for the first time when he calls her a mudblood - or maybe they start trying to do the work.
and adult snily exists within this context magnified to a hundred. i think there's just something so compelling about the idea of them running into each other in cokeworth. and lily being torn between seeing snape clearly - knowing exactly who he is and what he's done - and still wanting to pretend that he's the best friend of her childhood, so she can have five minutes of respite from the immensity of james' death. and snape being torn between wanting to confess his role in the prophecy debacle to her - to take responsibility and commit to atonement, safe in the knowledge that this would mean losing her forever - and still wanting to pretend that everything is as it was again, and lily will listen to him, and be what he wants [and needs] her to be.
and this gives us the potential for mess - and mess which is very sad, which is the best kind.
maybe they reestablish their friendship [or even transform it into a relationship] while clinging to that childhood fantasy, and are then forced to acknowledge who the other really is and fall apart. maybe they don't ever acknowledge this, and remain stuck in a mire of toxic codependency which hangs on never being honest with themselves and each other.
maybe snape stubbornly refuses to move on from his hatred of james [just imagine...] even once he has what he's always claimed to have wanted. maybe lily can't move past the mudblood incident. maybe the revelation of the prophecy and snape's role within it is something lily - entirely, entirely understandably - would never be able to move past.
and yet...
maybe - gradually, and with lots of setbacks - they each learn how to be satisfied with the other as a real person. maybe they learn how to listen to each other, how to talk to each other, how to value each other. maybe they let go of childish resentments - maybe lily says "yeah, james was a dick to you and i could have been more sympathetic to that" and snape says "thanks, now i can work on moving on from this so i'm not the sort of person who's still obsessed with school beef when i'm nearly forty". maybe they work through bigger, more justified resentments - maybe snape shows that he is sincerely sorry about calling lily a mudblood, and demonstrates this, and she feels able to accept his apology.
and maybe snape looks her in the eye and tells her what he did, and lily still manages to find some small glimmer of hope in the midst of her fury that she thinks is worth clinging to.
[the fact that switching sides and putting yourself into mortal danger in an attempt to destroy voldemort means that you have a pretty good claim for your wish to atone for your sins to be genuine, for instance...]
perhaps the two of them find themselves in a state of fragile cordiality - polite hellos in shops, a quick drink at christmas. perhaps they bury the hatchet but then lose touch, and forgiving snape and being forgiven by lily helps them each let the other go. perhaps they have a relationship which doesn't last, but which is no less significant to either of them for it. perhaps they share a drunken kiss and laugh about it the next day. perhaps they work out how to be friends properly - and they're yapping away over a roast dinner as we speak. and perhaps they work out how to be more than that.
stranger things have happened, and they always will. isn't it fun to come up stories which think about how?
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kb/ms is truly transcendental yaoi, spectacular, amazing, 10/10, no notes ... from the perspective of a mithrun enjoyer
as a kabru enjoyer, however...
I'll start off by saying that of course Kabru doesn't want or need a romantic relationship to be fulfilled, especially not with a white man, none of them do, it's all non-canon, Dungeon Meshi isn't about romance or shipping, yes yes yes, but none of us are here for that right now!! We're here to fruitlessly argue why my blorbos kissing makes more sense than your blorbos kissing!! You know it, I know it, none of us are free of cringe!! Clown on clown violence!!
That being said ... 🤡
I just don't see what Kabru gets out of kb/ms. With Mithrun, it makes sense; Kabru has a huge impact on him and ultimately helps him reaffirm his will to live. That's very exquisite drama and excellent character writing. But with Kabru, I just don't feel that Mithrun's character interacts with his personal flaws and would instigate his growth anywhere close to the same degree. I have to imagine most fics involving them focus more on Mithrun's baggage and how Kabru helps him heal from that ... because that's mostly all that happens between them in the main story, lol!
And like, that makes sense, because ultimately chapters 61-62 aren't about Kabru and Mithrun; they're about Kabru working through his conflicted feelings in helping Laios conquer the dungeon. I think it's ironic seeing people complain about kb/ms having Kabru be Mithrun's accessory when, if anything, Mithrun's main narrative purpose, outside of illustrating the danger of the Winged Lion, is to serve as Kabru's obstacle. I'd even argue Mithrun represents Kabru's personal bad ending; Mithrun wants him to kill Laios and surrender the dungeon to the canaries, preventing the short-lived races from ever understanding how dungeons function and returning to the status quo that had gotten Utaya destroyed. It's only when Laios practically forces Kabru, straight up puts his thumbs to the screws, to work past his reticence and be emotionally vulnerable that Kabru finally puts himself on the right path to achieve his goals (it's, uh, still a bit of a bumpy ride, but they get there in the end, lol!). If he'd been this way with Laios from the beginning, he might have understood Laios' intentions from the start and saved himself a lot of pain, but it's only because of Laios' influence that Kabru is able to grow as a character and get his happy ending.
(And even if one were a Mithrun enjoyer, ultimately the main source of Mithrun's life affirmation comes from the canaries. In that final scene, Kabru gets the ball rolling because he's outside of the canary hierarchy, but the scene ends with Mithrun being embraced by the canaries and as far as I'm aware the two don't interact with or reference each other post canon at all. Hell, it's Senshi who really drives the point home. Not that it matters when we're all wearing shipping goggles here, but it felt remiss not to mention it.)
At most, I can see how taking care of Mithrun would force Kabru to reexamine how poorly he takes care of his own body and that could make for some good drama. But even then, that change is ultimately instigated by Laios' influence on him, an extension of how Kabru wants to understand how Laios can see the value in monsters in an attempt to better understand his own trauma. If a person were to get into Dungeon Meshi specifically for Kabru and wanted to ship him with someone in a way that's most interesting for him, I'd be hard-pressed to argue there's a better choice than Laios (although who'd be cringe enough to do something like that haha right guys ... [sweating])
(Side note, though, I really don't vibe with the argument that kb/ms "reduces Kabru to a caretaker role" and that's why it's bad. There's plenty of instances where Kabru shoulders his friends' burdens (helps Kuro learn common tongue, listens to Daya's fiance about his relationship troubles, etc) and, more importantly, is seemingly happy to do so. I think Kabru genuinely enjoys looking after his friends and in the story seems to find plenty of personal satisfaction getting Mithrun to eat. I understand it has the potential to be more troubling considering Kabru is a brown man and Mithrun is a white man, but idk, it just feels on the same level as people trying to discount labru by saying Laios wouldn't take enough of an interest in people to want to start a romantic relationship, when his whole thing is that he does want to connect with people and just feels like he can't. It's not a bone I feel like picking, haha)
I honesty don't mind characters being "mischaracterized" in fandom or fic even to a large degree, I know it bugs a lot of people but I respect that ultimately fandom is little more than picking up the vague outline of a doll and playing with it and mashing their faces together. Besides, if I'm really worked up about it I can just write a fic and set the record straight myself, haha. This post is merely inspired by the supremely annoying subsection of twitter that acts like labru is the ship where it's just two dudes sitting in a room together. I'm just saying, Kabru ends the series whispering into the ear of another man as his day job and it's not Mithrun lmao
#dungeon meshi#dunmesh spoilers#labru#fandom wank#wank wanky fandom wank#thought you'd cringed at the last of me didn't you#sorry im a hater lmao#idk yall remember my opening note in 'nourish'#where i talked about how sometimes ships are your blorbo and the character they're closest to in canon#that was me throwing shade haha#stone-shaped shade in my delicate glass house#but shade nonetheless lmao#can't relate to people who are like 'nooooo don't fight about ships you guysss' like NO i wanna fight actually i think it's funny#kabru DOES only have one hand actually and the other one's holding the castle itinerary 😤#but only through absurd shitposts or overly long essays on your own blog like you still need to follow etiquette#people who send hate are losers who can't write or draw to cope#meanwhile i ship and write fics like it's a competitive sport i can win lol
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My favorite part about dungeon meshi is just how...real it feels if that makes sense?
there are suprisingly complicated issues and views between people in the world (such as things like long lived races being romantic with short lived races, views on orcs and ogres, thoughts from the long lives races about short lived ones and vice versa). this being something we actually see people arguing about, things like age of maturity and whether things are right or not.
It really feels like a fleshed out world filled with real people, Even the main cast are flawed and have issues in realistic ways.
The various characters have biases and even some racial biases. we see this with marcille and senshi viewing chilchuck and in senshis case laios as being children. From senshis journal we see this bit of writing. We see he thinks that chilchuck is a child and thinks he is some kind of orphan or something, thinking that laios and marcille and forcing a child to do these dangerous things.
Senshi realizes that chilchuck is in fact NOT a child and is in fact a grown ass man with children. After experiencing the changelings he also points out his own racist comments towards elves and realizes how hurtful it is and he realizes his mistakes.
We see dialogue from the extra stuff kui does that laios and falin have ignorant/racist views towards "mountain people"
They view these nomadic people as savages unable to speak and are to be killed on sight. This feels like such a realistic view for people from an isolated farming village like the one they came from in time periods like this. But here we also see Kabru's racial biases, that he thinks all kobolds are violent savages just like the touden siblings view the mountain people
Of course we have seen chilchucks racist remarks about beast people and izutsumis racist remarks about half foots.
Thats the beautiful thing about dungeon meshi, all the characters feel like real people with there own thoughts and biases and views that are things a real world person would have in there situations and life styles.
idk it just feels refreshing to see a fictional world SO fleshed out and deep that it even has issues one would see in the real world in a realistic way. the dungeon meshi world feels like a living BREATHING world with flaws and issues and good and bad and things that arnt so easy to put in one side or the other.
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In my head I think Sophie and Benedict have wildly different reactions to Eloise running off to sir phillip.
I think Sophie would recognize the Romantic in Eloise but Benedict would be affronted. Why would she refuse all these men on the marriage mart but keep this Man she is interested from them (and particular him)
Anyways my prompt request is a conversation between Sophie and Benedict before he travels with the brothers to "rescue" Eloise.
Something Stupid
Sophie and Benedict had only been back at My Cottage for two days when an express messenger arrived with a note for Benedict from Anthony stating that Eloise had “run away” and was at a place supposedly close to My Cottage and that he and Colin would be behind the messenger as they were going to rescue Eloise, or make her marry the man that she’d ran off to.
Benedict’s mouth had fallen open as he read the letter from his brother, so shocked that the paper fell from his hands and he was frozen in space and time as he tried to comprehend what had occurred.
Sophie had read the note and frowned “this is very strange” she said.
“I… I know, why… why would she not tell someone… why would she not tell me of all people. I get not telling Anthony… but me!?” Benedict said
Sophie sighed and placed her hands on her husband’s shoulders. “Eloise has always been one who valued her privacy, whilst she might not comprehend it when it comes to the rest of you, she does keep her own council most of the time” Sophie explained
“I know that but… running away… she’s had proposals in town, men who had offered for her… and she refused them all! Even an Earl?! And she’s run off to a baron?!” Benedict mused
“Ben, those men in town where not suitable for Eloise, they wanted the surname, or her dowry… if this Sir Phillip has offered to court her, mentioned marriage… it’s possible that Eloise may have fallen in love during her letter writing… that is something that I can see as being very Eloise”
“But running away?!”
“Your sister is very much like the rest of you, she’s impulsive… something will have happened, Penelope, her best friend, just married your brother… Francesca has returned to Scotland unexpectedly… she could very well be feeling lonely and sought out someone or something she felt would give her comfort and purpose… you surely remember what that is like?” Sophie said
Benedict nodded “i know that but still, Soph, she tells me everything. She always has, we’ve never had secrets…”
“That’s rubbish and you know it… you kept your fair share of things from her… she will have her reasons.”
“But what if this man is in his 60s!?”
“Ben darling, if that was the case she’d have turned up here, she knew we were returning after Daphne’s ball, if she didn’t feel safe, if she didn’t like the man… she would have come here, regardless of how embarrassed she would have been”
“What if she couldn’t… or can’t”
“Ben. She is like you, she’s practically part cat. She’d have found a way out, and she’s the best shot in your family… she’d have gotten out.”
“But…”
“Ben, my love, you will make yourself dizzy and sick by going over the buts and the what-if’s… Anthony and Colin will likely be here in an hour. Get dressed, say goodbye to the boys and in the meantime I shall ask Mrs Crabtree if she knows any of the staff over at Romney Hall and if they know anything about this Sir Phillip but i have every faith that all will be okay” she soothed.
“I guess… but…”
“Ben, if you But once more, i am going to have to slap you. I am trusting you, as I am sure Kate will be trusting you not to do something stupid… and control Anthony… if he nearly dualed Simon over Daphne, I can only imagine what he will do to either your sister or this Sir Phillip…”
“Oh Anthony won’t be the issue…”
“Benedict I swear to God you better get those ideas out of your head… I am pregnant with our fourth child… according to you, the daughter you’ve dreamed off… You have to be responsible. You have to come back to me in one piece. I am not raising four children on my own and if you do something stupid like challenge him to a duel, or get yourself killed then I will drag you back from the afterlife just to kill you myself… or you’ll be banned from my bed from now until the day either of us die…”
Benedict looked scandalised. “You wouldn’t do that?!”
“I will if you do something stupid! I want you to be on your best behaviour!” Sophie scolded.
“I… I can’t promise that”
“Well then you best get used to sleeping alone” Sophie said moving away from her husband, arms crossed over her chest looking furious.
“But… but… you… fine” he sighed “I will do my best… I promise not to do anything stupid… but I am not promising not to hurt this man if he has hurt Eloise…” he said
“That is fair… if he has hurt Eloise in anyway, you better leave a piece for me…” she said seriously
Benedict laughed, “that is fair enough I can promise that”
“Good, now go get ready and I'll go speak to our housekeeper” she said pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Benedict nodded and departed to get himself ready and Sophie had to admit, out of everything that went through her brain as she waved off her husband and three brothers-in-law, she had not expected them to turn back up, drunk as skunks, falling out of the carriage with Eloise in tow, who was sporting a black eye looking furious with her brother’s and filling Sophie in on what happened and as she climbed into bed with her husband who was passed out from the excess alcohol she sighed “so much for not doing anything stupid…”
#bridgerton#ask ash#sophie beckett#benedict bridgerton#benophie#benedict x sophie#anthony bridgerton#eloise bridgerton#sir phillip crane
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AT Boys trapped in a small space with their crush? I cackle. 💝 thank you either way.
Alpheratz: This man stays idle, so you can make yourself comfortable first. And then you better start brainstorming together, because he does not like being cramped like this. He sees this as a problem to get out from immediately, without emotions getting involved.
Arcturus: He assures you that everything is fine, while clinging to you so tightly, that you may have trouble breathing. Of course he will promise to get you out, but he does not know how to begin this process. Keeps apologizing, and mentions how hard he thinks about a way, but his thoughts are just spiralling. When you begin to cry or show any sign of being upset or anxious, his thoughts clear immediately, making it easier for him to get you out!
Pollux: Have you ever tried bathing a cat that does not like baths? That is him with small spaces, he will kick and move in an attempt to get out, and although he will apologize for accidentally hurting you in the process, this will not prevent him. Gets an extreme case of a panic attack and will have trouble breathing. It is up to you to save yourself (and him). You are free to glare at him, when he says "That was not so bad" after this event.
Sirius: Turns into a dog, because it is more comfortable. And although it is his heart that beats out of his chest, he will ask you why you are being so nervous and breathe so heavily. Is it possibly that it excites you to be alone with him? Out of everyone else's sight? But with the possibility of others hearing everything you say? He will simply tease you until you either confess or break out of the place. When you confess, he has the audacity to say that "This barely is a romantic scenario, how about you take me out to eat and say it again?"
Spica: First of all, he needs you to calm down. Even if you already are calm, he wants to make sure that you will not have a panic attack in such narrow places. And his second act will be to have at least one arm around you, extremely accidentally of course. He will keep your mind from discomfort by whispering you all his ideas on how to break out, while actively doing those things. If he needs your help in one of those attempts, he will keep telling you that you are doing great and that you can take your time.
Vega: Although he should concentrate on GETTING OUT, he only thinks about taking you out. On a date. In that evening. Which makes it very difficult for him to find a solution, if he even seeks one until you speak up about it. Really, if this was anyone else, he would hate it, but he does not mind it with you. You are cute, no matter how far away he is or how close. Thanks to the lack of concentration, he may slip hints of a confession into this situation. When you say that you have an idea to get out, he asks if it involves a kiss, like in a fairytale. Whether this is romantic or sarcastic he decides on your reaction.
#alpheratz disappoints me#like??? wheres the kissing?#WHERE IS THE ROMANCE#are my own writings even romantic or just...#idk#arcana twilight#arcturus#pollux#vega#sirius#alpheratz#otome game#request#romantic arcana#spica#claustrophobia
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author x barista cafe au (sanji is competing against himself)
#WHY ARE THEY SO STUPID#ok so basically usopp is writing a story based on his own life and since he began frequenting the cafe a love interest (sanji) was introduc#and he lets sanji read it hoping he'll get the message (also cuz they both love stories) and it completely flies over his head#op#one piece#sanuso#usosan#usopp#sanji#black leg sanji#cafe au#comic#mintart#my art#i just love how oblivious sanji is in canon too#like you'd expect the hopeless romantic to notice when a girl likes him and then he just . doesnt IT'S SO FUNNY#poor osome lol (viola and pudding too cuz he didnt realize when they got a lil crush on him#not that i ship them with any of those characters but they DID like him canonically at some point and he DIDNT EVEN KNOW is he stupid (yea)#and usopp being so roundabout about his feelings and NOT DIRECT AT ALL. hello be normal please#he's just like me fr#bonus page is inspired by that wano scene where usopp eats sanji's soba and is like#it's so nice to eat ur food again sanji :D so glad u came back safe<3#WHY IS HE SO CUTE......... IM GONNA CRY#ok im just yapping now sorry bye#also i made this au with my friend and we have a lil inside joke that the other barista exists and it's him LOL#i have doodles of that too
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i don’t get the appeal of an incest ship if you’re only ever going to focus on the good romantic feelings and not the icky negative ones. the resentment the feeling of being trapped shackled wanting out and away from the person who knows so much too much about you since before you even knew to not allow it but at the same time you can’t imagine living in a world without them being away is like tearing a limb a piece of your soul you will never again be complete without them. no one else will ever understand you the way they do no one else will ever get so deep under your skin and you may hate it but you hate the thought of them not being there even more you can’t stand to see anyone else get to a part of them you didn’t and even worse when they get it before you. you push and you push and you push but when they let go it’s like you’re free falling and it doesn’t matter how far away you run you will never be far enough away because you carry them inside you everywhere you go. you tell yourself you want nothing more than to get away but they’re the only home you will ever have and you won’t ever let anyone get that close you’re already moulded to only fit in perfectly with them and you didn’t have a choice but this is who you are. there’s nothing you could do to make them let you go but there’s nothing you could do to make them let you go. you want to be so close to them you want to merge your bodies into one you hate how crowded you feel when they’re in the same room like they’re sucking in all the air and there isn’t any left for you and you want to get away so you can just breathe but you don’t even want to breathe in the air that hasn’t passed through their lungs first you hate that you feel this way you wish you could claw it out of your veins but then who would you be without it without them you want so much and it’s so ugly and you’re ashamed of how raw that need is how you want every part the good the bad the human you wish none of this had ever happened you feel dirty you never even had a chance to find something else be something else but then you look over and you love them so much so much and when it comes down to it nothing else was ever going to be enough for you anyway.
#and this is all still just one type of the different dynamics possible#and even then i haven’t covered everything#it’s all just one tight hot mess of feelings. and it’s so good#there is still much much more and i wanted to write it but it was just getting so long#this isn’t targeted at anyone person or fandom but i have recently noticed an increasing trend of (that is probably just my dash tho)#treating incest ships as primarily romantic and. that just takes away everything that makes them so engaging in the first place#to each their own i don’t believe in telling people how to enjoy their fiction but i just don’t understand it is all#you do you i’m not judging or huffy about it or anything. and obviously i’m not talking about#making fluffy feel good posts/art/stories etc about your ships#but treating these ships the same way and looking at them mainly through the lens of romantic relationships#will just leave you with a huge part of them missing#and you can’t really understand their dynamics and their interactions without that very important context (they were family first)#which is also the foundation of their relationship#.txt
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