#do you know how hard it was to lie to literally everyone i know. ESPECIALLY TO GIGI. DO YOU. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

missnxthingg · 2 months

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𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Lando Norris x Actress!Reader (Enemies to Lovers & Fake Dating AU) 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - Lando Norris really messed up on the first time meeting one of Hollywood's newest and hottest stars, Y/N L/N. But when his reputation gets too bad, she might be the only one who can save his career from being completely doomed. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 - 2.2K | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - Swearing 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 - My first Lando series! And this time, I promised to finish it all because it's been already mostly written. I was just in need for some cliché shit, and I just threw in some of my favourite tropes together. Hope you have as much fun reading it as I did as writing it!

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𝐎𝐍𝐄 - 𝐌𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄

In a world of celebrities, reputation matters. It doesn’t matter if you’re a singer filling up stadiums, actors earning big awards or a famous race driver, how you are perceived by the public eye is extremely important for your career. Lando Norris knew that. Yet, he continues to fuck things up day after day. The nightclubs, the girls, and the lack of winning on the tracks weren’t doing him any good. It got to the point where it didn’t matter if he did good on the race, climbing from P13 to P2, because, in the end, all everyone talked about was how his personal life was getting in the way of his professional one.

“He’ll never get a win if he continues to party like a teenage boy”, said a comment on one of his Instagram posts.

His PR team wanted to pull their hairs, bending backwards trying to clean off his image and making everyone forget about all of those bad things. As much as Lando tried to keep everything very private, things get leaked when you’re a public person. No secret stays hidden for long, especially if you’re not trying too hard to keep it hidden. But there was an old trick under their sleeves that would probably work, although the McLaren golden boy wouldn’t be very trilled with their drastic decision.

“No fucking way”, he shot once the idea was put on the table during a meeting scheduled at the McLaren Technology Centre, where he was spending the weekend to discuss new strategies for next week’s race. “You realize what you’re asking me?”

“Lando, your reputation is completely fucked. We quite literally have nothing else we could do to clean up the mess”, one of the members of the team said. “And we know lying isn’t easy, but this doesn’t have to last forever. We promise that by the end of the year, you can put off this bullshit silently”.

“It’s not the idea that is bad. Is the person you assigned me to lie with”, he crossed his arms and looked away. The head of his team sighed, knowing it would be too hard to make him break and cave into their idea.

Fake dating has been a good old trick in the celebrity world for a very long time, and it almost always works out. When the team came up with the idea, it looked almost flawless. All he needed was a girlfriend, making him look all fluffy and cute for the media once again, making everyone forget about the life he had before. Of course, it would coast a lot of sacrifices for Lando. It would require quitting the DMs slidings and now his parties would all be accompanied by the same girl. He probably would’ve accepted it in the end. Unfortunately, his team did poorly on the choice of who he would be doing this with.

“We know that you and Y/N aren’t exactly best friends, but her PR agency is close to ours, so it was easy to make an agreement with her. Also, she’s quite literally the sweetest person in the world, and everyone on the internet loves her. She’s everything your reputation needs”.

Y/N Y/L/N is the newest actress to arrive in Hollywood. Last year, she made her debut as a supporting actress on a Netflix movie. But recently, she scored a leading role on an HBO show that had everyone obsessed over her. Everyone except Lando, who already had a bad encounter with her a year prior.

“I can prove them I’m serious on the tracks, doing my own job. I don’t need a girlfriend to do that”, he leaned back into his seat and crossed his arms.

“Lando, you know that your reputation is fucked. Everybody thinks you're childish and unserious about your job. We want to change that”, his manager stepped into the conversation, pulling his attention back.

“But why her? Why the person who hates me the most in this universe?”

“Because she’s the only one who accepted this challenge”.

Y/N was very good at her job, and she most definitely wouldn’t need any relationship to get to new places. But the publicity of dating a Formula 1 driver would be very good, since the sport is doing so good on social media. Hollywood is a game, and she’s just now learning how to play it.

Before he could even ask why she agreed into that idea, Y/N shyly opened the door, opening a small smile to everyone on the table. With his blood already boiling under his skin, Lando chuckled before getting up from the table to exit the room. He passed right through her, shoulder bumping into hers on his way out.

“I guess you already told him”, she sighed, resting her bag over a seat at the meeting table. Y/N looked at his PR agent, who she had a meeting a few days ago, and that shook her head, pointing out the disaster of a meeting they just had. “He didn’t like it at all, did he?”

“He’s not very pleased with the idea”.

“Of course”, she nodded. “I’ll talk to Norris”.

Y/N walked around the entire place, only to find Lando sitting alone in another meeting room, facing a window that had a view to the lake outside. As usual, it was a gray day in England, making the atmosphere even more heavy than he wished for it to be. Without saying a word, she sat next to him and he pretended she wasn’t there by not acknowledging her presence in the room.

“Are you really going to pretend I’m not here?”, Y/N broke the silence and Lando sighed.

“I don’t want to see you right now”, he admitted, making her roll her eyes. Could he be any more childish?

“Norris, I know it seems like the end of the world, but it’s not a big deal. We just have to pretend to be together for a while and have a quiet breakup by the end of the year”, she said, making him finally look at her. “It’s not that hard”.

“But it is, Y/N”, he grunted. “Do you know how does it feel to not be trusted? Not being trusted with your work and, most importantly, not being trusted with your actions as a human. They think that alone I cannot put out the negativity around my name”.

“It’s just for a few months. And after this is done, we won’t ever need to see each other again, you know?”, she said.

“You realize that we’re going to be together almost all the time through an entire year, right? Not to mention that we cannot be seeing with anyone else until this deal is done. It will drive both of us insane.”

“We have to make it work”, she shot, making Lando chuckle.

“Why, Y/N?”, he crossed his arms and frowned. “Why did you accept this propose?”

“The publicity is good”, she admitted. “And you know, acting is my passion, but people need to know my name, so I can climb my way up in this industry. I’ve been trying so hard to be successful, but no new roles are offered to me. If fake dating you is a way to go, then I’m doing it”.

“You hate me”, Lando stated, making Y/N roll her eyes once again.

“We hate each other”.

“No, YOU hate me. You’ve hated me since the very first time we met”, he said, making Y/N’s mouth fall agape.

“Well, I had a pretty damn good reason to hate you, didn’t I?”

The first time they met each other was at a gala event in Monaco. Lando was required to appear by his PR team, thinking that having him appearing looking pretty as all hell would be good publicity for him. The same thing happened for Y/N, who had just come out with her first big film and needed to be seen by the public eye. But unfortunately, their first encounter wasn’t what they would consider to be nice.

Her stylist chose a beautiful white dress designed by Oscar de la Renta, with feathers at the bottom, making the dress have movement and her look absolutely fantastic as she walked through that amazingly fancy party. But just as she was starting to enjoy the party, someone bumped into her, spilling their red whine all over her. Before she could say anything, the person that bumped into her spoke up.

“Watch where you’re going, doll”, he laughed after he collided with her body, passing his hand through his shirt, checking if there were any drops on his clothes. “You nearly spilt wine on my shirt”.

He was clearly very drunk, and anyone could see it in his eyes. But Y/N didn’t care. Her perfect and amazing dress was ruined, and the person who trashed it didn’t even fucking care. It made her want to burst into flames.

“You fucking idiot! Look what you’ve done!” Y/N cried, looking down at her dress, now painted pink with the splash of wine. When she looked up, Lando was laughing, mostly because he was so out of himself, that he just couldn’t filter whatever happened a few seconds ago. “Aren’t you going to apologize?”

“Sorry”, he said, but proceeded to burp right on her face. Then, the man laughed again. Without any power to continue arguing with him, Y/N left the event and went straight home, not wanting to face another second of that event.

But, it seemed like fate was against her. A week later, after spending some marvellous few days in Monaco, Y/N was invited to watch the Formula 1 Grand Prix by her team. And even though her weekend was going amazing so far, the whole thing went down the drain when she met the same man who ruined her dress a few days ago. Only this time, he wasn’t drunk and he was wearing a racing suit, getting all ready to perform at the track later that day.

“You have got to be fucking joking”, Y/N muttered, low enough so no one could listen to it. Soon, she felt an arm around her, making her turn around and meet her agent, Clara.

“I want you to meet Lando Norris. He’s part of our PR agency as well”, she said, making Y/N walk towards the driver, who was listening to music as the mechanics around him worked at the car.

Lando didn’t remember meeting Y/N on the gala. He had been so out of himself that night, with all the bad races he was coming from, that he did everything in his will to get out of that reality. So when a beautiful girl crossed paths with him and shot him an angry look, he didn’t understand what he did wrong to deserve such a hateful glance.

“You don’t remember me?” She frowned once they were introduced again. “Oh, alright. You were so shitfaced that you forgot that you spilt wine over me and didn’t bother to apologize on that gala in Monaco. And then, proceeded to burp right in my face”.

He just couldn’t contain himself, and he laughed once again with the story. “I’m so sorry, baby. But this is actually very funny, sorry”.

Laughing at her face again didn’t do much on making Lando earn points with Y/N. Instead, she proceeded to hate him and make it all crystal clear every time they met on future events. And unfortunately, it happened more times than they enjoyed. After all, having their publicity teams so close to each other, they were often assigned to attend the same events; all of them filled with banters and fights that led them into a lifetime of hatred for each other. Which led them to this very important decision to take.

“Are you actually willing to put everything between us aside for this stunt?”, Lando frowned, not understanding why she would accept that challenge. Y/N took a deep breath and her lips curved into a sad, weak smile.

“I am willing to do anything for my career, Lando. Even pretending to love you”, that was the first time she ever called him Lando since they met. That definitely caught his attention. It definitely made his heart soften.

He knew the feeling of caring so much about your dream to the point of doing anything required to be done in order to achieve it. And for a second, Lando found something that connected Y/N to him: their passion for their jobs. Suddenly, what used to be an angry and confused look, turned soft and understanding just with a few words.

“I’ll do it”, he said, making Y/N breath normally again in relief.

“Okay”, she got up from his seat. But before she could exit the room, Y/N turned around and laughed. “This isn’t going to work, right?”

“Probably not”, Lando laughed too. “But if you feel like this is worthy, I trust you”.

It was one of those rare moments where he would fail on hating Y/N. The moments where his human side spoke louder. And she saw it; this time genuinely smiling to him.

“Let’s do this, Norris”.

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

⤳ 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - @celestialams @lizaschronicles @kapsylia @igotnorrrizz @hiireadstuff @bishhhitsaurion @mrsmaybank13 @bborra @sltwins @riccdannyf1 @kapsylia @67-angelofthelordme-67 @ctrlyomomma @lan4cha16 @alltoomaples @ellen3101 @hellyesjaehyun @tastebaldwin @sweate-r-weathe-r @carmenita122 @m0cha-bunny

crossed means i can't tag you! dm me and maybe we can get it fixed

#lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #lando norris series #lando norris angst #lando norris fake dating #lando norris enemies to lovers #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x actress!reader #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader #f1 #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic

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headkiss · 1 year

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hi!! I have an Eddie request!😊 basically something where the new girl (super shy and nervous cause AH I love it😂) at Hawkins is trying to find a seat at lunch, and decides to go up to Eddie at his table, and he treats her like a literal princess cause no girl has ever willingly wanted to sit with Hellfire

hi ty for the request!!! i hope u like it!!! | 0.6k fluff and shy!reader

Switching schools is scary. Especially during your senior year.

It’s even scarier when you have a hard time talking to new people in the first place. It makes friends hard to find, the adjustment lonely and nerve-wracking.

Lunch is by far the worst part. Every single friendship and clique in one room. Each table is dedicated to a group. Jocks, cheerleaders, or simply friends that so clearly belong together. There’s not one empty table for you to escape to.

You scan the room slowly, standing awkwardly with your tray in hand.

Already, your heart beats faster, your palms clammy. You glance around and the first empty seat you find is at a table with a group of boys in matching shirts. You shake your head and walk over, telling yourself over and over that it’ll be fine.

The closer you get, the less the noise of the room is one big mess. You can make out the voices coming from the table, the laughter.

You wind up standing a bit behind the head of the table, a head of black curls occupying the seat. You clear your throat to try and get his attention, but you aren’t loud enough over the rest of the room. You take a deep breath and shuffle over until you’re next to the chair.

Silence falls over the group, every pair of eyes lands on you. Shit.

Eddie’s stunned when he sees you standing next to his seat, shuffling on your feet, a nervous look on the prettiest face he’s ever seen. You’re new. He knows that because there’s absolutely no way he wouldn’t have noticed you before if you weren’t.

“Can we help you?” Mike says.

“Sorry, um, I was just wondering if I could sit here?” You fiddle with the fork sitting on your tray. “The other tables seem pretty full.”

“Uh-” Mike starts to reply but Eddie kicks him under the table.

“‘Course you can,” he says. He directs his attention to Mike and Dustin, “move down.”

“What?”

“Move down.”

They do, sending Eddie two annoyed looks as they do.

“There you go,” Eddie gestures for you to sit at the corner next to him.

“Thank you so much. You won’t even know I’m here, promise.”

Eddie finds that hard to believe. He’s known you for about a minute and already he can’t stop looking at you. Nobody ever comes near the Hellfire table, and here you are, all sweet and shy and something out of a dream.

“None of that. What’s your name?” He asks.

You tell him, and he repeats it, testing it out.

“That’s pretty. I’m Eddie, nice to meet you.”

Eddie.

Eddie’s a pretty boy. Like really, really pretty. From the curls framing his face and dangling over his forehead, to the softest brown eyes, to the rings adorning his fingers. As if you weren’t nervous enough already.

The rest of the table is caught up in a new conversation, but Eddie can’t bring himself to care. He’s sure you’re more interesting anyway.

“How you liking Hawkins?” He asks.

“Um, it’s okay.”

“It’s shit, you don’t have to lie.”

“No! It’s just, everyone seems to know each other already, you know?”

“Don’t worry about that. Most of ‘em suck anyway. Besides, you know me now, so that’s something.”

He doesn’t tell you that it’s actually cause for the entire school to tease him about finally having a girl pay attention to him or some shit. Like he said, they suck. You don’t.

“I guess that’s true.”

When lunch comes to a close and you start packing up, Eddie stops you before you get up with a gentle hand on your wrist.

“You can come sit here again tomorrow, if you want to.”

“Thank you, Eddie.”

After meeting him, you think maybe a new school won’t be so bad.

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luvrbug · 1 year

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Honkai Star Rail Men ; where do they lie on the pathetic man scale?

includes ; Sampo, Welt, Jing Yuan

A/N ; sorry everyone ive been playing hsr, and it has COMPLETELY captivated me. i will maybe write about one piece more buuuut I cant be too sure :[ i change like the wind sorry guys. also my first time writing in like Months so apologies if this is poopy

Warnings; literally the smallest amount of spice, no allusion to sex. reader is not the trailblazer, Gender neutral reader with 2nd person pronouns

«────────«⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅»────────»

Sampo Koski

Sampo is such a failboy. it's not even funny. He embodies a pathetic man.

You get word of Sampo scamming someone once again; and to make it even worse, it was the kids that literally saved the entire planet.

So, you sentenced Sampo to a week of sleeping on the couch, which landed you in this unsightly situation.

"Baby, please, you know i didn't really mean to make them do my work," he pleads, grabbing your leg and squishing his face into your stomach. "I had urgent business to attend to somewhere.. else in the mine,"

Sighing, you run your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Sampo begins to rise, hoping that he's swayed your iron heart, until-

"Two Weeks on the couch,"

"Baby!"

«────────«⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅»────────»

Welt Yang

Out of all the men on this list, I'd say Welt is the least pathetic man. He has fatherhood skills and absolutely does his half of the chores.

... But he still is completely whipped for you.

Welt has never forgotten an anniversary. Without fail, he brings the biggest boquet of flowers, plans the best date night, and manages to keep your little troop of mischief makers pacified for the night.

So, when this year's anniversary rolls around, and nothing has happened yet, you begin to worry.

Did he want you to plan the events today? Did you miss some subliminal messaging? Are you losing your spark?? Is he-

"Ah, there you are," Welt's voice alone is enough to completely silence any rebellious thoughts running around.

"I was starting to get worried, i wouldn't want your surprise to get cold," You perk up instantly at the mention of a present, quickly gathering the book on and gold quality black tea you'd bought a few weeks prior.

Welt pulls out.. your favorite dessert from your favorite bakery on your homeworld. That is thousands of lightyears away. "I managed to understand enough about this dessert from your stories, and i managed to make something close to it with my powers and a little help from Himeko,"

You practically launch yourself at him, covering his face with kisses. Best anniversary ever.

«────────«⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅»────────»

Jing Yuan

In the middle of the pathetic scale. Proper, courteous, and flirtatious, but also the most pathetic, clingy man ever when you're alone.

It's Saturday morning, the sun is shining, you have a romantic lunch reservation in an hour, and Jing Yuan is refusing to allow you out of bed.

"Honey, we have to get up or we'll miss our reservation. You know how hard it is to get on their waiting list, especially for the lunchtime rush," You whine, attempting to wriggle out of his hold.

Jing Yuan simply squeezes you tighter, making a muffled "hmmph" into your stomach. "Your cooking is better anyway," he mumbles, stretching and yawning not unlike mimi.

You huff, lying back in bed with your eyebrows scrunched. "I'm not going to cook for a week unless you get up and we make it there on time,"

This finally gets Jing Yuan off the bed and rummaging through his closet. "Well, hurry up, we wouldn't want to be late,"

#honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sampo koski #sampo honkai #sampo x reader #sampo x you #welt yang #welt honkai #welt yang x reader #welt x you #jing yuan #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan honkai

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lavenderlyncis · 8 months

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Join me in reviewing Olivia Rodrigo's album GUTS. I've waited years for this!!

all-american bitch - 9/10, big fan. I love it when she screams because the world is unfair. same girl, same

bad idea right? - 10/10. I know this one is controversial but I LOVE her more punky songs, I think that's when she's best

vampire - 10/10. I'm not always a fan of piano ballads, but the bridge and outro really make it for me. The hurt turning into anger and despair is just so cathartic. And the video is one of my faves of all time

lacy - 1000/10. What the hell. Did not expect to feel this much emotion from that title. Uhhh... yeah, same. I super relate to that. Whether or not lacy is supposed to be a real person or a manifestation of the beauty standard, this hits. Also, idk if I'm making this up but I dig the romantic undertones, they sell it

ballad of a homeschooled girl - "I made it weird, I made it worse"/10. OLIVIA HOW DID YOU KNOW that I lie awake thinking about all the weird things I did and said, Olivia, did you write this for me specifically??? Every day I am alive IS social suicide. I'm sorry, this is my song, actually. "Can't think of a third line", she's so real

making the bed - "I'm playing the victim so well in my head"/10. How. Does. She. Do. It? I could write an entire essay about this song. Maybe THIS is my song?? She's so good at saying exactly how I feel. I already know that this song will play a million times on my phone. Also I love the drivers license references. Big fan of the making the bed metaphor

logical - 9/10. favourite crime vibes. She's good with these songs about bad relationships. Used to be my favourite thing she did, but now I'm more invested in the songs that are about her/other experiences. That being said this song is really fucking good. This is the Olivia I fell in love with and she's still amazing at doing piano ballads

get him back! - 9/10. Olivia having ANOTHER song with speak-singing where she wants to get back with her ex?? Yes, PLEASE. Bad idea right 2.0. Fucking obsessed

love is embarrassing - 10/10. I said it before I'll say it again, angry Olivia is the best. And she's right, love IS embarrassing as hell

the grudges - 10/10. She does the paino ballads SO WELL. I think this is my favourite one on here. Because, wow, yeah, that is how it is

pretty isn't pretty - i can't rate this/10. GOD, I love it when she talks about insecurities. And don't think I don't see that skipping lunch line. It's sp hard to articulate how this song makes me feel. Especially since I've been low key comparing myself to her, even though we have entirely different bodies and faces. It's nice to know she also struggles with this. And she's right, you could do literally anything to change your appearance and you'd still be unhappy

teenage dream - 100000/10. "Is it recording? Of course it is.", the way I gasped. Okay, I love the interpretation of it ending with a child to be about growing up and childhood innocence. But the line she says?? Especially combined with the meaning of the song it feels a lot like it's about taking away youth by recording it and putting it out there just like she was supposed to be everyone's teenage dream as a child actor and young musician. This feels so personal to her while also being relatable to others. I'm 19 too, Olivia and I are born in the same year. And this is exactly how I feel about growing up. I hope it gets better, my teenage years were crap, I'm tired of being young, but it's also the only thing I can hold onto. I'm honestly terrified of turning 20. But hey, Olivia did it, so... it'll get better, right?

#i should probably stop trying to give songs numbers #they're all perfect to me #or2 #olivia rodrigo #guts olivia rodrigo #or

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fallingdownhell · 6 months

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haii may i request the sumeru men with a people pleaser so?

Love this! As a people pleaser myself, I know how hard this can be. Still, hope I did a decent job with this.

Characters Included: Tighnari; Cyno; Kaveh; Alhaitham; Wanderer

Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; some comfort and fluff

Word count: 2k words

Have fun with this<3

Tighnari

he understands you want to help people

he really does... but when it comes at the cost of your own health and well being, that's where he draws a line

Tighnari watches you as you go around doing anything people ask of you, always a smile on your lips

but he sees behind that smile, sees the tired expression you so desperately try to hide

He knows you want to make people happy.. but there's got to be a line. Sometimes, one has to prioritize themselves

But when you remain unwilling to stand up for yourself, he steps in to take over for you. Enough is enough!

When he sees you taking on the work of someone else yet again, he decides to step in

He takes you away from the situation, making up some excuse about needing your help with something before he drags you to his hut by your hand

You protest against him at first, but when he didn't budge at all, you knew to just accept your fate. After all, Tighnari can be quite stubborn if he wants to be..

As you arrive, he instructs you to sit down on the bed, which you oblige to while he goes and makes you a quick snack, since he noticed you haven't really eaten anything all day. You had even skipped his top tier breakfast..

He literally watches you like a hawk, making sure that you eat at least half of the food he made before he tells you to lie down and relax

You try and protest again, but he's firm in his resolve

With a sigh, you comply. And as soon as your head hits the pillow, you notice just how exhausted and drained you truly feel..

Tighnari looks at you with an expression akin to "I knew it". He lied down next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he just held you like this..

"You don't always have to make everyone around you happy. You need to think about yourself and your own well being from time to time as well. You need breaks, just like everyone else needs them. Rest for now, my flower. I'll watch over you.."

Cyno

Cyno's an interesting case...

He wouldn't notice that behaviour in you at all at first. And once he does, he admires it first and foremost..

People were always afraid of him... they were when he was younger still.. and they are now, thanks to his status as General Mahamatra..

He finds it fascinating that people come to you to ask for your help constantly.. he can't even imagine what that would be like for him.. there would definitely be some underlying jealousy from him at the start

But.. overtime.. as the people ask more and more of you and you growing more and more stressed and tired trying to do all of them justice, did he finally see the downside to that kind of life..

Especially when it's affecting such a kindhearted soul like you, who can never turn anyone down for anything

after reaching that point, he starts to keep an eye out for you, making sure that you're not overworking yourself too much. But he wouldn't step in just yet, believing that you'd know your limits yourself

So, he just watches, as people come running to you again and again, asking you to fulfill simple tasks for them that they could have easily done themselves

it's not until much later does he realize that these people are only exploiting you and your kindness. To be fair, he only knows the extreme examples of such behaviour, so he didn't immediately recognise it with such "small" acts

but as time goes on, as he sees just how tired and exhausted you get, he starts to get worried himself

he's constantly asking himself why you wouldn't just turn those people down. He really doesn't understand it

But what he does understand is that you need a break. Urgently.

so without waiting any further, he goes into action. Cyno knows your usual schedule like the back of his hand so he knows that he has some time on hand

he goes to the market and buys all the ingredients for your favourite meal, which he promptly cooks you for dinner. After you've come home and eaten the food, he insists you take a nice, relaxing bath

after that, he gives you a nice and long massage, relaxing all your muscles perfectly. And once that is over, he cuddles you for the rest of the night until you both fall asleep

He's seen how hard you were working these last few days, so he wants you to know that he appreciates you and that he wants to help you unwind from time to time

"I've seen how these people treat you... you and the kindness you show them. Remember that it's okay to say No to them every now and then. You don't and can't always be responsible for everyone. You need to look out for yourself more. But for now, relax, my Lotus. Relax and let me take care of you for tonight."

Alhaitham

At some point, you became the unofficial librarian of the house of Daena

Not because you wanted to or applied for the job.. you just spent a lot of time in the library so you know where most of the books are. And people come to you when they need help with literally anything, because you never refuse to help anyone

At first you were happy to be able to help out a few struggling students, glad you were able to guide them in the right direction

But soon, word spread around and people came flooding you every tile they spotted you within the house of Daena

What was once a nice interaction and an exchange of information soon became an overwhelming amount of people bombarding you with questions

And even though it became too much for you very quickly, you didn't have the heart, not the opportunity, to turn them down

Much to the displeasure of someone else, as well

Though your boyfriend loved the House of Daena and to spend time with you here, he didn't appreciate people flooding you like that, taking time away he would usually spend with you and just being generally very loud

And since he knew you would never turn anyone down, he had to do it for you. He did not care what people thought or said about him, his reputation already being not the best. But what's it to him?

And today especially.. people were just so damn pushy and demanding towards you. It didn't sit right with him..

He watched you for a bit as two students were heavily debating something with you, raising their voices slightly. He noticed you growing uncomfortable in the situation yet still not saying anything

Deciding that he had to step in at this point, he walked over to you and simply took your hand, pulling you along with him without uttering a word

The two students were yelling after you, but he didn't pay them any mind. You weren't protesting at all, simply following him along, because you already knew why he did that

After he turned a quiet corner within the Academiya, he turned around and pulled you into his arms, engulfing you in a comforting hug

"I told you so many times.. you need to learn how to turn people down. They'll walk all over you otherwise. Please don't take this the wrong way, I'm just concerned about you. ...How are you? Feeling better?"

Kaveh

Oh boy...

this is quite the difficult situation, because Kaveh is such a big people pleaser himself

You two are constantly looking out for the other, reminding them to take breaks and to take things easy

you are both great at giving actual good, helpful advise. But when it comes to following them yourselves.. both you and Kaveh need to hone that skill much more

you constantly keep an eye out for him, as he does for you. Kaveh knows the telltale signs when you get exhausted and he always tries to gently remove you from the situation to get you to lie down when he sees them... which works for the most part

but he's often away on trips for his work, so he's not constantly around you to keep you safe from your own self destructive behaviour

when that happens and he returns from a trip a few days later, he finds you utterly exhausted and tired, about to collapse while standing up

he quite literally forces you to sit down or lie down while he makes you some simple food, mostly soups and such

and every time, you promise each other to look out better and to take better care of yourselves... only for that promise to be broken a few days later, letting the cycle begin anew.

Kaveh knows that things can't keep on going like this, something has to change. Something has to change, right now!

So he sits you down for an honest talk where he plays with open cards, sharing all his doubts and worries with you

It's an emotional talk, many tears from both you and him flow, but in the end, you both agree that you can't keep going like this, unless you want to destroy yourself completely

it will take a lot of time and effort, but you're sure that you can do this. You can do anything with Kaveh and his support by your side to help you back on your feet when the world tries to push you down again

"I know how hard it is.. you want to he helpful, you feel like that's the only way you can accomplish something in this world. But overworking yourself is not the right way to do this. Listen to me and listen to yourself. You are also important. So please, start treating yourself that way."

Wanderer

Hates it. Absolutely hates it

But not for the reason you might think

well... At first, at least

you see.... his issue in the beginning is how much time it takes away from your shared time together

every time you're out with him, even just for a walk, people come up to you, either engaging in conversation or asking favours of you

at the start, he only scoffs and shoots nasty looks at those people, but he does not interrupt, since he doesn't want to come of as rude to possible friends of yours

but he's still annoyed beyond anything that your attention is taken away from him

after he gets over the inital feelings of annoyance and anger, he begins to notice a pattern every time people approach you with a request in mind

he begins to notice your little hesitance before accepting the request, notices how your shoulders slump just slightly after they walk away without even giving you proper thanks

so, he decides to observe further... and boy, does he not like what he sees

because the longer he watches this unfold, the more rage he feels building up inside him

why were those pesky humans always coming to you for such trivial things? And why aren't you turning them down? In fact, he hasn't seen you turn down a single person so far..

of course, as he keeps on observing you, he notices you growing more and more tired the longer this keeps going

until one day, he just has enough

it happened when you two were out for a nice stroll in the evening and someone was approaching you yet again

something in him just snapped when he saw that familiar expression in their face

he quite rudely and loudly just stated a firm "NO!", taking your hand in his and just pulling you along with him

you did not protest against this, partly because you were surprised and a bit shocked by his strong reaction

he took you out of the city, to an open field where he sat down with you, watching the stars up in the sky

he kept quiet for a long while, and you also kept quiet, not knowing how to best tackle this situation

but as it turns out, you didn't have to do that at all

"Idiot... going around and letting yourself get expoited like that. What would you do if I weren't here to look out for you, huh? Just... be more careful. You don't always have to agree to anything, you can just say No to them. It's not that hard... But if you can't do that.. let me know. I'll do it for you."

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qqueenofhades · 2 months

Note

Do you have any idea why people are so fixated on Biden’s age but not Trumps? I know he’s 81, but Trump isn’t exactly far behind at 77: in fact he’s the second oldest. This keeps stumping me: it’s not a big gap in age

There are a few reasons for this, yes. As you might imagine, all of them are very stupid.

First and most critically is the way Trump's violent extremism has been completely neutered, mainlined, and normalized by the mainstream media. That's why we still have said media largely treating this as a normal presidential election, instead of that of a successful incumbent against literally the most deranged, unfit, treasonous, criminally and civilly liable, already-led-an-attempted-coup, deep-in-hock-to-Russia, adjudicated rapist, 91-felony-counts-indicted career cheater, grifter, and failed businessman who nonetheless appeals to the still-very-powerful isolationist, racist, white supremacist, and Christian nationalist elements in this country. Crucially, he also appeals to the billionaire class that owns the media and who will benefit from Trumpian tax, economic, and labor policies (especially now that Biden used the SOTU to once more call for a minimum 25% corporate/billionaire tax rate). The media also openly wants Trump back in office, as all the shitass insane things he did (and will do) are good for ratings, and allows them to act like the Principled Truth Tellers, instead of shilling so hard for a greasy orange fascist that we may well lose our 250+ year old democratic republic if he, God forbid, is elected again. Profit is more, well, profitable than truthful reporting, so the media has been completely disincentivized to cover this in any accurate way. We presume they will all wake up with shocked Pikachu faces when Trump packs them off to concentration camps with everyone else he hates, as he has openly promised to do.

Because we're also starting from an underlying premise that everything is the Democrats' fault, this means the party should be blamed for running said successful incumbent for reelection, even if he has low poll numbers which have in fact largely been produced by the media's relentlessly stupid and dishonest coverage. I was reading an article in the AP today about how 15 major student/youth groups have endorsed Biden and plan to work for his reelection; even so, the author could.not.stop going on and on about how Zomgz Old Biden was and how supposedly most Americans thought he was mentally unfit for the job (which is a straight-up lie produced by the endless "Zomgz Biden Old!!!!" handwringing have been subjected to without end. Weird how that works). That is also why we have all those idiotic "Biden should step down!!!" opinion pieces by Very Smart Pundits, notwithstanding the fact that a) it would be completely insane, b) it would be completely insane, and c) somehow nobody seems to think that hey, maybe the Republicans shouldn't nominate an openly seditionist generally god-awful fascist shitweasel who has already been the worst thing to happen to American politics in the twenty-first century (I'd say also the twentieth century, but unfortunately that was when we had Reagan).

In other words, Trump is just taken as a given, while the media spends all its time attacking Biden, calling on Biden to step down, amplifying "concerns" about Biden's age, producing idiotic narratives about Biden, distorting or ignoring the things Biden has done, and then writing concern-troll navel-gazing pieces earnestly wondering why people don't like Biden. (Apparently people's opinion of Biden drastically improves when they learn what he's actually accomplished, but the relentless parade of lies somehow makes it difficult for them to learn what those actually are. Again, weird.) Likewise the endless coverage we get of Biden's smallest slips or stumbles, while the media resolutely ignores Trump's full-on recent descent into absolute raving dementia. Hello, double standards!

This is also fueled by a heaping helping of racism and misogyny, because if God forbid Biden does die in office, what happens? The vice president takes over! We have a clear and constitutionally established precedent for this that has happened many times before! Except, oh no scary!!!, Biden's vice president is a brown woman, and that means SHE WOULD BE IN CHARGE!!!! TERRIFYING!!! So all the scaremongering around Biden's age, aside from being generally dishonest and stupid, has as its implicit message that sure, maybe you're fine voting for an old white man, but are you really comfortable doing that if it means a brown woman might also have the chance to be president?? I DON'T THINK YOU SHOULD BE!!!!!

Anyway, yes. It's a complete straw man argument, it's fueled by bad faith and stupidity, and as with most things in the current American media environment, it's geared toward helping Trump win. Because you know. Something something BUT HER EEEEEEEEEEEEMAILS BUT BIDEN WAS OOOOOOOOOOOOLD.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

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aihaitahm · 11 months

Text

pheromones

cw: fem! afab! reader, use of princess, dove, darling. pure nsfw. mndi.

a/n: sorry i interchanged cologne and perfume alot. hope u like it though! :3

character: blade

it has been a week since you’ve been on a mission with silverwolf which meant you havent seen your boyfriend ren. everyone knows how he has an extremely soft and loving side just for you and god fobid if anyone hurt you, he would literally hunt and kill them. but what they didnt expect was how grumpy and extra irritable he was when you were gone. his once nonchalant remarks may turn to snarky, sour ones if they annoyed him enough. he didnt like it when other people bandaged him. he would always find time to call you and actually visibly pout when you were busy. kafka teased him because shes never seen someone like him pout like a school girl waiting for their crush. in which blade mutters her a ‘mind your own goddamn business…’

he was starting to miss your touch and how adorable you were whenever you were under him. youre so confident and cocky when you retort back at his playful jabs but a crying babbling mess when he nibbles on your cute nipples. using his hands to jerk to your used underwear wasnt simply enough. your absence didnt really help in general. he cant sleep very well and he finds peace in your warmth and love while sleeping.

after long dreaded days of texting and calling, you finally arrived. you put on colonge/perfume with intense pheromones you got from one of the small shops during your journey, maybe to tease him and put it to a test. putting some on your nape, between your breasts and your thighs.

he was extremely happy when he saw you. blade couldnt show it outwardly but his aura significantly changes. he was quick to hug your frame and kiss you on the lips and immediately help you with your belongings and what not. jbringing you to your shared apartment while listening to you talk about the mission. he misses your voice and he senses your strong scent of yours and it was driving him internally crazy. he smirks at what your silly little plan was but you know what, it worked.

“bladie, whats so funny-“

he suddenly pulled you into a deep, hungry kiss. leading you to your shared bedroom, as he passionately nibbled at your lips. blade holds the back of your head gently, making sure you fall on the soft mattress properly. his hands all over your body as he explored every ethereal part of you.

you felt so vulnerable compared to him, it got you weak in the knees. trying to catch your breath was hard when all blade did was smother you with his animalistic hunger for you. you moaned through the kiss as you felt his knee go in between your legs, rubbing your thin panties under your short skirt.

“r-ren….!”

“i miss you a lot darling, but you do know teasing me with that new cologne of yours, is like playing with fire? or was that really your plan?” blade whispered in which he felt you clenched, he knows how his voice makes you crazy. he continually grinded his knee on your cloth pussy.

“no… i just happened to b-buy it because it smelled good.” you lied. you felt his intense, dark red eyes ready to pounce at his prey. you were grinding back and forth on his knee until he stopped you, looking at you darkly with a smirk.

“i hope you know good girls dont lie and if they do they have to apologize and beg.”

———

minutes passed by and you found yourself a mess, trying to make yourself cum by riding on your lover. he has been denying your orgasm and just sitting there nibbling at your nape. you were stubborn and refused to beg. it drove you crazy when he would refuse to let you cum while he bit hard in the areas you sprayed your cologne at. purple marks all over your thighs, nape and especially your chest.

“come on now… are you that stubborn? i thought you missed me hm? oh your mad because i denied your precious orgasms? maybe if you didnt lie princess, i couldve fucked you like how you liked it.” blade growled as he surprisingly slammed you down on his big cock. he loved the feeling of your hot, cute pussy around him while your wearing that short ass skirt just for him.

“ren… ppewase…”

you moaned a gibberish answer as that strong wave of his thrust was almost enough to make you cum. feeling his cock deep inside you was enough to make your toes curl and arch your back, combined with his sultry voice on your ear. he felt you writhe in his touch as he played with your nipples and nibbling at your ear, talking to you in a such a sweet dirty language.

“im sorry what was that?”

“i said… please… f-fuck me.”

“you know you should beg like you fucking mean it.”

“no…” you whimpered stubbornly, refusing to let him win. you steadied yourself as you tried to hold yourself in place and tried riding his cock. soon enough, you got tired again as you started tearing up. you just wanted to cum all over your sweet hot boyfriend!

“please ren…. i need you please fuck me… dont stop please i apologize im sorry for lying i did want to tease you on purpose, pleaseplease just fuck me and dont stop. please!”

“see that wasnt so hard princess? such a fucking slut, wearing this short skirt and wearing an intense pheromone perfume. dont complain if its too much.”

ren flipped you over as he pounded you into a mating press. sucking on your nipples as he held your knees to your chest while he thrusts in you in a fast, hard pace. hearing your sweet, high piched moans is music to his ears. he felt you tightened up as he continued with his cruel pace.

“ha…hah! cumming! cumming!~ r-ren! ” you screamed. feeling your body twitch as you felt blade hold your hands and not faltering at his pace. continuing to overstimulate you as all you could do was take in his big cock. feeling the wetness of your orgasm fall on your skirt, making a puddle beneath it.

“mmm, youre taking me so fucking good, dove. come on~ keep cumming until you cant princess.” your eyes rolled to the back and you were clawing at whatever your holding, drooling all over your mouth as you babble nonsense. clenching and cumming again and again since his thrusts wont ever stop at the moment. all you could think of is your lover. you pulled him into a kiss and he reciprocated back.

blade enjoyed seeing this sight as it drove him close to his orgasm, growling at your ear as he continously thrust messily into your sweet opening making you cum again and again.

he finally came in your cute pretty cunt. heavy breathing occured in the hot room. the smell of sex and of you was his favorite. he observed his work of art as he kissed you gently all over your body, muttering an i love you and welcome back home.

#honkai star rail #blade x reader #hsr blade #blade hsr #honkai blade #honkai x reader #honkai star rail smut

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chvnnie · 1 year

Note

soft dom cocky Chan? All she wants is to suck him off but he wants more?

this is my favorite genre of chan

SMUT — MINORS DNI

You really didn’t mind when Chan put his hands on your hips, fingers hooking through your belt loop and pulling you closer to him. Standing in between his spread legs, one hand on his chin to keep it still. It was when he started to get a little more handsy, sneaking on behind you to grope your ass that it became a problem. Making you flick his forehead.

“Ouch—“

“Cut it out.”

“Sorry.” He mumbles, but the smile twitching on his plush lips tells you he’s anything but. It’s impossible to be mad at him when he’s looking up at you, brown eyes laced with fondness staring up at you. “Your ass just looks great in these jeans.”

You scoff, moving out of his hold to grab a new brush and eyeshadow platte. “Close your eyes and stop bothering me while I’m trying to work.”

Though the former is no problem, it’s nearly impossible to keep his hands off you. It’s pointless to scold him, to knock his hands away. Chan is going to do whatever he wants to do, and you’re really in no position to complain. Especially when his warm hands start to gently knead your flesh over your jeans. His touch always makes you feel like staticky, almost distracting you from why you were so annoyed with him.

He tried to convince you that everyone is behind schedule, that it isn’t his fault. It’s a bullshit lie; the other members were in and out, barely sitting in your chair for more then twenty minutes. It was Chan that was behind, too caught up on his new project that he lost track of time. He barely got his stage pants on before he was dragged into hair, then pushed in the tiny dressing room you’ve set up shop in.

Then he wanted to kiss you. Tell you how he kept trying to sneak away to visit you, but he just got so busy, baby. Pushes his lips into a pout. Don’t be too upset with him, okay?

Literally, you couldn’t care less about that. You’re frustrated that he’s late, giving you only eleven minutes to get him stage ready. And he keeps trying to waste it by touching you, kissing you. Distracting you from your job.

Six minutes have passed, and your applying color to his lip when there’s a knock on the door. Five minute warning.

“Let me just touch up your eyeliner—“

“It looks fine.”

“No, Chan—“

“We only have five more minutes, baby.” He says in a soft voice, pulling you closer until your knees hit the chair. Forcing you to sit in his lap. “Let’s do something else.”

You sigh, putting your hands on his chest to try and push away. It’s a bad idea; skin so soft against your palm, muscles so broad and firm. Mouth watering, you swallow before shaking your head. “You don’t have time.”

“I can make it.” Chan’s hands slip in your back pockets as his lips brush against yours. Slowly, almost teasing before he lets them connect. “I didn’t get enough of your cunt this morning. Don’t let me go on stage frustrated.”

When you sigh, he knows he’s won you over.

“Fine.” You start to move out of his lap, dropping to your knees between his leg. “But only head.”

Is it because your on a time crunch? Or do you just miss the smile he gives you? The condescending way he says “Sure, baby”? Or are you just too focused on the tent in his tight pants, cock already rock hard from just some heavy petting?

He lips his hips to help you pull his pants down, cock springing out and hitting his defined abdomen heavily. Palm wrapping around the base, you let your hand work freely up and down. A little pressure, a little slow. Exactly how Chan likes it.

“That’s it, baby.” He groans, pulling your hair back in a makeshift pony. “Now spit on it.”

You look up at him with wides eyes, locking in the contact as your spit on the tip of his cock. It makes you start to lose all sense of reality when his lips part, deep moans so prettily filling the small dressing room.

“Good fucking girl.”

You’ve always felt so powerful when you’re kneeled before him. Spit clinging to your bottom lip, you smile up at him. This man, who goes on stage every night, commanding the attention of millions and swooning every being in the stadium—

“Thank you, daddy.”

Crumbles so easily when it comes to you.

Before he can try to control your movements, you’re wrapping your lips around his cock. The weight against your tongue is mind numbing, little thought going into how you take him all in one breath. Nose brushing against his pubic bone, little gags vibrating against him.

“God fucking damn.” His head rolls back against the chair, loudly moaning your name. You want to scold him, warn him how problematic it would be if someone found out about the two of you.

But there’s no time, and you can’t really find it in yourself to care.

Legs pressing together, you start to find the perfect rhythm. Slightly sloppy, very deep down your throat. Just like Chan taught you, tongue flicking over the tip and teeth brushing the shaft. The perfect way to make him fill your mouth, to cum intensely.

With the taste of him is heavy on your tongue, and the gentle way he’s pulling your hair, you’re starting to get more pent up. The static taking over your body, setting it ablaze. Forcing a hand in between your legs, desperately unbuttoning your jeans to force it inside your dampened panties.

Fingers rub tight, quick circles on your clit. Chan’s thighs starting to shake, his moans more broken and whiny. Close. It won’t take long.

“That’s it. Fuck.” He curses. “Such a good little cock slut for—“

The words catch in his throat when he looks down. Sees your eyes shut in bliss, the hand stuffed in your pants. And then he’s pulling you up by the hair, knocking the products off the counter to throw you in it.

You gasp, but he clasps a hand over your mouth before much more noise can be made.

“Do not fucking tell me,” he’s tugging your pants down, not stopping until they’re with the makeup on the floor, “that I don’t have time. Do you really think I fucking care?”

His cock is inside you, spit and slick making it easy to slide all the way in. Hands wrapping around his wrist and nails digging into his skin, you moan into the palm. Head hitting the mirror with a thud.

It wouldn’t be hard to guess what’s happening in this same room. Skin on skin, muffled moans and curses. Hidden relationship be damned; Chan’s sick and tired of not getting to fuck you whenever he fucking wants.

A loud knock. “It’s time, Chan—“

“Two more minutes.” His hips don’t stop, fucking you hard enough to make the flimsy counter creak.

“We don’t—“

“I said.” His head snaps around, voice raised and frustrated. “Two. More. Minutes.”

Each words is emphasized with a hard thrust. Your body is tensing up, stars starting to cloud your field of vision. Chan moves his hand, gripping your cheeks instead. Grabbing your attention.

“You don’t get to tell me no anymore.” He growls, the feral look in his eyes almost frightening. “Got it?”

Quickly nodding, you reach for him. Needing him closer. “Yes, d-daddy—“

“Good. Now fucking kiss me.”

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, slamming your lips against his soft ones. The lip color is rubbing off, melting with each flick of your tongues. He’s starting to get lazy; not moving as roughly, as quickly. As if those two minutes were an eternity.

What were you in such a rush for anyway?

#skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #chvnnie thots

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dodje-melai · 4 months

Text

Can we talk about how fucking sweet Hobie would be in a relationship?

He’d treat you so well every single moment he’s with you. He’d never treat you bad and would always make sure you feel appreciated and wanted.

You guys probably wouldn’t have an official title to your relationship because Hobie “doesn’t believe in labels” (he’s joking when he says that), but everyone who knows you knows that you two are basically dating. However, if it matters to you about putting a label on your relationship with him, he’d be totally cool with doing that. He wouldn’t mind you calling him your partner publicly, and he’d love to do the same with you.

“I don’t mind puttin’ a label on us, luv. Whateva makes ya happy.”

Hobie would treat you almost daily with handmade gifts, or gifts he bought from a small family-owned shop, or something he just stole from a corporate-owned store if it’s something you really really want. He’d also treat you by taking you out, mainly to cool places that he’s found while swinging around. He’d also take you out to concerts by either stealing tickets or sneaking you in.

“‘Ey doll, got us sum tickets to a band ya like.”

“What? Hobie, these tickets are crazy expensive! How the hell did you buy these?”

“I ain’t ever said I bought ‘em.”

And sometimes, if he thinks you’re tough enough for it and you’re willing to go, he’ll take you to riots with him. He’d hold your hand or your hip or just anywhere he can so that he doesn’t lose you in the crowd. He makes sure that nothing bad happens to you, which his spidey sense makes it easier for him to do so. Though if you were to somehow get hurt he’d feel guilty for letting that happen, and he’d patch you up and make sure you heal properly.

“Hobie, I’m fine. I just scraped my knee—“

“I don’t want ya gettin’ an infection, dove. The road’s dirty. Now quit squirmin’, I’m tryna disinfect it.”

Aside from gift giving and quality time, Hobie’s other love language is physical touch. He loves to hold you, kiss you, touch you, anything that involves being close to you. He’ll hold your hand or your hip while walking, and he’ll either hold your waist or slip his hand into your back pocket while you’re standing together. If you’re sitting, he’ll always have his hand on your thigh. Always. Sometimes he’ll even try to sit you on his lap if he wants to be extra close to you.

“Mm… c’mere babes, I wanna be closer to ya.”

“Hobie, I’m literally sitting on top of you. I can’t get any closer.”

“Yes ya can, you’re just not tryin’ hard enough.”

I think a very important aspect of being in a relationship with Hobie would be effective communication. Yes that’s important in all relationships, but it’s extremely important for him especially. He always wants to be aware of what’s too much for you so that he doesn’t cross any boundaries, and if he did, he wants you to feel comfortable enough to tell him what he did. He hates the thought of miscommunication ruining your relationship.

“Darlin’, I can tell somethin’ is wrong. Ya can tell me anythin’, ya know that yeah?”

Hobie is undoubtedly a very loyal partner. He would never even think of cheating on you. You’re practically his everything at this point. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he lost you; it doesn’t matter how he loses you, any way would be devastating. In turn, he trusts that you are very loyal too. He knows that you’d never cheat on him or flirt with someone else. Why would he date you if he didn’t trust you?

“Ya know I trust ya mo’ than anyone, yeah?”

Hobie doesn’t get jealous or overly possessive. He knows you’re his, there’s no need to consistently flaunt that. Besides, it’s fun watching you tell people that are flirting with you that you’re not single. But if some bastard wants to keep flirting with you after you’ve made it clear that you’re taken and uninterested, then he’ll step in and put that bastard in their place.

“Oi, fuck off mate. They ain’t interested in you.”

Something important about Hobie is that he’ll never lie to you. He keeps secrets, but if you find out about something and confront him about it, he’ll tell you the truth. Even if the secret you found out is that he’s Spider-Man.

“Hobie, this is a serious question, so I need you to tell me the truth. Are you really, genuinely Spider-Man?”

“Yep, I am. You’re a smart one, dove. How much snoopin’ have you been doin’ lately?”

“…I swear to god if you’re messing with me right now I will punt you.”

“Not jokin’. I’m a hundred percent serious, especially ‘bout ya bein’ very smart.”

Basically I think being his partner would be nice :)

#hobie brown #hobie x reader #across the spiderverse #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x you #hobie headcanons #hobie x y/n #hobie my beloved #hobie brainrot #spiderman atsv #atsv #atsv x reader

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sleepysnk · 7 months

Text

there’s some things i really wanted to talk about especially regarding my account and tumblr as a whole, so i decided to finally make this post as a way to sort of vent out my feelings on some things.

i’m not gonna lie, tumblr has become a very different place from what it was. i started creating content 3 years ago and it’s gone through so many changes (much expected). however, i don’t think tumblr has really changed for the better, especially when it comes to content creators. this used to be a really safe space for me to come on and create works for fandoms that i enjoyed, but recently, that safe space hasn’t felt, well, safe anymore. there is constant discourse everywhere on this platform and i’ve found that many people here are just extremely bitter? it’s almost like it’s become a mean girl center and it makes it difficult to interact with others.

obviously, this doesn’t go for everyone. i’m not trying to come at people specifically or cause issues, but i have seen my fair share of problems with people on here and some of it is just completely ridiculous.

next, i’d like to discuss the elephant in the room and that’s the lack of interaction/support to writers. it is just mind blowing to me that we as creators have to BEG our followers to reblog or even send us asks. obviously, some people are new to tumblr and don’t understand it’s algorithm, but there are people on here who just simply chose not to reblog for some reason?? it’s not only discouraging, but it puts less confidence in writers and then we aren’t motivated to create content. i’ve said this before, but there is no reason why a 2k note fic should have only 100 or so reblogs. likes mean nothing on this platform. it’s not Twitter. i genuinely have gotten so tired of repeating myself that i don’t even say it anymore because i know it won’t be acknowledged.

i understand people have lives, i do too, but it isn’t hard to send an ask to a writer about literally anything. i think the last time i had an anon ask was weeks ago and i genuinely get disappointed when i ask for interactions just to receive nothing? no one is obligated to speak with me or send me asks by any means, but a little “hey! how are you?” goes a long way. i probably sound ridiculous, but it’s just how i feel about the matter.

another thing that bothers me is when a writer doesn’t write smut or suggestive content, they hardly get any interaction. i’ve seen it myself before and i’m not sure why people just ignore greatly written fics?? i understand that smut is the main appeal. trust me, i 100% get it, but fluff writers hardly get any attention and some of the best fics i’ve read weren’t even smut related. i’m not saying every person here has to read fluff or angst fics by any means, but it makes me sad that people write these fics to hardly get any interaction because it isn’t smut content. the least y’all can do is reblog it.

to discuss my account, i honestly don’t really feel the most happy here. i don’t have as much motivation as i used to and i have contemplated removing my account, but i have some great fics i’d rather not have be deleted. i might start a new account for a fresh start, but i’m still not 100% on it.

and if you read this till the end, thank you! i probably sound like a whiny baby but i just wanted to express some of my feelings because it’s been weighing on me a lot recently.

#summer rants #uhhh #yeah!#lowkey needed to speak on this #also emmie thank u for being motivation for this #!!!!

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atlabeth · 11 months

Text

(not so) simple pt3 - anthony bridgerton

pt1 pt2 pt4

summary: coercing lord bridgerton into pretending to court you to avoid the affections of a baron is very simple — that is, until it isn’t.

a/n: so first of all let me apologize for how long it took for this to come out. literally nine months. a whole baby has passed. i lost my bridgerton inspo HARD but like i always want anthony bridgerton even if it's deep within me and that just came through today as i finally pushed through and finished it. hopefully you guys still care about this series because i sure do and the end is in sight, like i literally have most of it written i just have to do the in between parts and connect it all and this horrible wonderful terrible amazing mini series that has killed me will be done. anyways here she is and i hope you enjoy!!

wc: 9.7k

warning(s): historical inaccuracies, fluff, angst, a lil bit of violence/injuries, a cliffhanger that will make you want to kill me. yn is going kind of crazy because she's never felt pleasant emotions before

The next month was akin to a blur. With each day your mother grew more and more excited about your courtship with Anthony, so much so she’d even begun knitting a blanket as a wedding gift to the Bridgertons.

(When she’d first told you about it over dinner, you’d nearly choked. You were beginning to dread telling her the truth more than you dreaded your fake courtship).

That, perhaps, was beginning to become a lie. Dread was not the proper word for how you felt about your courtship.

It was still strange, knowing that everyone around you believed you and Anthony were to be married. Though your secret was still one well-kept, you could hardly contain yourself whenever you overheard snide remarks with you at the center—it seemed they had still not gotten over the fact that their precious opportunity at becoming a Bridgerton had been stolen by you. Perhaps their daughters would get their chance in the next season, once you and Anthony had broken things off.

But that was not enough to hold his image in the same sour view as before.

Anthony was irritating as ever, yes, and but he was no longer the mere rake, the sarcastic older brother who firmly believed you were running out of time, the womanizer Lady Whistledown painted him as.

At least, you did not see him as such. He certainly did not act that way around you anymore.

Anthony Bridgerton was lighter around you—he smiled more, laughed more, joked around with you in a way that Benedict told you he hadn’t seen in years. And of course, he was only able to tell you that because Anthony brought you along on outings with his family.

The Worthings had always been friendly throughout the years with the Bridgertons, especially because of your closeness with Eloise and, more so when you were younger and before her debut, Daphne. You were fond of the rest of the family as well, Benedict and Colin looking on you fondly as that of an annoying younger sister much like Eloise—you were happy to fill the role. Francesca was pleasant when she wasn’t off traveling, and Gregory and Hyacinth were always a delight. Hyacinth seemed more attached to you because of the courtship, and truly looked forward to welcoming you as a sister.

Anthony had always been the older brother that foiled your fun with Eloise, that urged you to take your role more seriously if for no other reason than to influence Eloise down the path as well.

Now you felt closer than ever to him, and though it was merely for your ruse, you couldn’t help but enjoy it.

Stranger yet, though, was how your image of Anthony had changed since that first dance the night you agreed to this ruse. When at first you could only stand his company because of the promise of continuous jabs and protection from suitors, you now found that you actually… enjoyed being around him. You recalled the night out in the Bridgerton gardens with Anthony far more than you should have.

He certainly had no right to keep you awake at such late hours the way he did.

You no longer despaired early wakings to promenade with him, no longer wrinkled your nose at the prospect of dancing with him. Though you still dreaded the glitz and the glamour of the ton all the same, Anthony himself did not spurn the same response.

Of that, you did not know exactly what to think, but you supposed the absence of misery was something to celebrate.

You and the viscount were becoming friends. You enjoyed his presence. You began to look forward to your next outing with him, time spent with him outweighing your dislike of early wakings.

You were a frequent visitor of Bridgerton family outings because of your friendship with Eloise, and you only found yourself more involved with their picnics and promenades through Anthony.

Invitations found their way to your doorstep far more often because of the Bridgerton name attached to yours, and you found you enjoyed them more on Anthony’s arm.

You attended operas together in their private box. He frequently called on you, leading to conversations in your drawing room and promenades all about. You dined with them at least once a week, always sitting next to Anthony and whispering things to each other throughout.

In addition to the time you spent with Eloise, your proximity to the Bridgertons, especially Anthony, was near constant.

And you enjoyed every moment of it.

Truly, there was something very wrong with you.

But perhaps the strangest of all was your newfound fame. If there were ever any hope of keeping your ruse even the slightest bit secret, it was crushed by virtue of Lady Whistledown, who aided you with your most fantastical feat yet—you were mentioned by name in every single edition she’d published since the night you and Anthony partook in your first dance together. The ton knew you well now, far too well, and even when you were not around the viscount you were attuned to the glances and whispers of gossips.

You found it interesting how easily you had become a source of intrigue, simply because it looked as if you were the object of Anthony’s affections—but you also found it largely annoying. You did not much like the attention.

Running off to the country sounded better and better with every passing day.

“I swear,” you muttered as you went through the stack of pamphlets, “news of our relationship makes up half of Whistledown’s repertoire these days. Truly, we should get a cut of her wages for providing so much material for her.”

Anthony’s lips quirked up in a smile. The two of you were sat in your drawing room, chaperoned as usual by Julia, a stack containing each edition of Lady Whistledown during the length of the season set between the two of you. It was past the traditional hours of a caller, but the “advancement” of your “relationship” allowed Anthony leeway. He had brought with him yet another pamphlet of Lady Whistledown, which Eloise had confronted him with after getting her hands on it.

“We do seem to be quite popular,” he agreed. “But at least that will make it easier for the news of our parting to spread.”

“I just wish she did not make it so dramatic,” you huffed, and you picked up the most recent edition that Anthony had brought. You brought up the pitch of your voice and made your accent as haughty as possible as you read the printed words:

“The mystery that is the Viscount Bridgerton and Miss Worthing continues to unravel. The two were sighted together in a box at the newly redecorated Adelphi Theatre, admiring the opening night of Rossini’s Tancredi. I begrudgingly commend them on the taste in opera; I too, am a fan of Voltaire. One can only wonder the sort of activity they commenced in with their privacy.”

Anthony allowed himself a laugh as you shook your head and let out a sigh. “It’s ridiculous. She makes it sound as if we are engaging in the most scandalous behavior there is, when we were merely watching the opera! The only activity we commenced in was discussion.” You set the pamphlet down on the table with a huff. “It was quite intellectual discussion, if I do say so myself.”

“Certainly,” he said with a nod, and he smiled wryly. “Are you saying you are not a fan of all this attention, though? Surely it is your dream for every member of the ton to know of you and your exploits.”

“I am certainly not—” you began, but your attention was drawn to the doors as your mother walked inside.

“Lord Bridgerton!” she exclaimed as a smile tugged at her lips. Though your mother looked happy, you saw through the practiced expression—she held a letter in her hands, turning it over and over as if to calm nervous energy. “How lovely to see you here.”

“It is just as lovely to see you, Lady Worthing,” Anthony greeted, the charm flowing effortlessly through his words. “And may I just say how effervescent you look, even at this late hour?”

Your mother smiled. “You know exactly what to say to get yourself out of trouble, don’t you?”

“It is a virtue,” Anthony joked, and when he stood up you did as well. “I apologize if I have overstayed my welcome—I simply enjoy your daughter’s presence far too much. She is a sure credit to your family.”

“Oh, it is of no mind,” she said, brushing her hand through the air. “I always enjoy having the Bridgertons over. You are no exception.”

“You flatter me so, Lady Worthing, but I must insist I take my leave.” He bowed to her and then turned to you, taking your hand in his and pressing a delicate kiss to the back of your palm. “I bid you a good night, my lady.”

You suppressed the flutter in your chest at his touch. Your hands were typically gloved whenever you held hands during dances or promenades, but not at this hour. His lips against your bare skin made your breath catch for a moment, even for such a slight occurrence.

“I can escort you to the door,” you said, smiling through the uncertainty in your chest.

Anthony nodded, a small smile on his lips as well. “I welcome your company, my lady.”

Anthony offered his arm and you took it, and you could sense the excitement from your mother even from afar.

“Do not stay out too long, you two!” she called with a grin as you strolled out the door, and you had to stifle your laugh.

“You are going to be the death of me, Miss Worthing,” Anthony murmured in your ear as you walked out, his breath tickling your skin.

“Not if you get to me first,” you countered.

“I think the opposite is far more likely,” he said.

“How so?” you said, feigning disbelief. “You are the one keeping me up past natural hours with your presence. You are the one dragging me with you into Whistledown infamy.”

“But you are the one who got me into this in the first place.” Anthony glanced at you. “Quite the predicament, I might say.”

“Oh, do not act as if you are not enjoying it by now,” you said. “We are friends at this point, yes?”

A small smile quirked on his lips. “I suppose so.”

Again, that warmth in your chest. If Anthony knew, he would surely understand that he was far more likely to be your undoing than the other way around.

You reached the doors, and when you opened one and peeked outside, there was a notable absence of a carriage.

“My deepest apologies Viscount Bridgerton.” You turned around to see your head maid hurrying across the floor, slightly out of breath. “There has been a miscommunication between our two estates—your carriage will arrive, but it will be delayed. It should not be too long a wait, albeit, but—”

“It is of no worry,” Anthony interrupted, bowing his head. “I thank you for your dedication. Please, enjoy the rest of your night.”

She looked to you for confirmation and you nodded. “Thank you, Emma. You can retire for the night.”

She smiled gratefully. “I appreciate your kindness, my lady. It shall be here soon.”

You let go of Anthony’s arm as she began walking to the servant’s quarters and you pushed the door open again.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“We have time to waste,” you said, looking back at him mischievously. “Do you trust me?”

“…You make it seem as if I shouldn’t,” Anthony said.

“Oh, relax. We have some time to ourselves and a night sky above us. Surely you can indulge me once.”

“I believe I have indulged you far more than once,” Anthony said, but he followed you anyway. He planted his hand against the door, taking the weight off of yours, and for some reason even that act made you take a deep breath.

Thank God for the cool air, you thought hastily as you stepped outside, because your cheeks were burning for no good reason.

“I apologize on Emma’s behalf for the delay,” you said, thankful that he was following slightly behind you. “The Worthing estate has been in a state of disarray lately. I try to help around, but my mother insists it’s not my place.”

“I already said it was a nonissue,” Anthony said, and you bit your lip as he took a step closer and put you on equal ground. You’d no idea what was wrong with you.

“And I thank you for your continued grace, but I still feel as if I must apologize anyway,” you said. “You likely know of our… monetary issues.”

His brows knit together. “Of course, but that means nothing. Of your status, I mean.”

You smiled a bit. “To you, perhaps. But my mother is so ashamed of our lack of staff, she hardly ever has her friends over for tea anymore. We’ve never been able to afford much, but we had to let many of our staff go over the past summer.”

“It is noticeable. You’ve no doormen, few maids and servants,” Anthony said. “But it shouldn’t matter to any true gentleman.”

“I suppose that makes you a true gentleman, doesn’t it?” you said playfully.

Anthony chuckled. “After all the years my mother has spent trying to turn me into one, she would certainly hope so.”

“That is why this is all such a problem.” You glanced at him. “Why my mother is so delighted of our courtship. She believes you will be my— our entire family’s— saving grace upon marriage.”

“Quite the burden upon us,” he said dryly, though his words did not hold the usual humor. There was a certain solemnity about him.

“Indeed.” You sighed. “Our ruse frees me from the hand of other men for this season, but there is still the problem of… of what awaits.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, the night chill beginning to get to you along with something else. “I am certain I will think of a plan eventually, but still I worry more each day of what I will do when it is all over.”

Anthony didn’t say anything, and you didn’t fill the silence though you felt his gaze upon you. Suddenly, though, you felt the heaviness of fabric over your arms.

Anthony’s jacket, you realized when you looked at him. Your lips parted, words stuck in your throat, but he didn’t give you the chance to get them out.

“You were cold,” he shrugged, answering your question before you could ask it. “It would be unfathomably rude to force my dearest betrothed to freeze.”

“You noticed,” you said.

“Always,” Anthony said.

You care.

You could not help but stare at him, if not just for a moment, because— because God, the man was beautiful. There lay no use in denying it. There was a reason that, despite being the ton’s most infamous rake, he was still so desired by countless ladies.

His eyes almost as dark as the night around you holding a kindness he didn’t share with many, his white undershirt with slightly-rolled sleeves in stark contrast to it all, the curve of his jaw and the slope of his nose and the barest coif of his chestnut hair.

He was beautiful, and he was the one thing you could not have.

“Miss Worthing?”

Which did not matter, because you did not want him.

“My apologies.” You blinked and cleared your throat, Anthony breaking you out of your spell, and you gestured with your head as you continued along your way. Heat burned inside of you, all the way from the tips of your ears to the soles of your feet, and you could hardly stand it.

“You seem… distracted,” he said.

That was one way to describe it.

“Apologies,” you repeated with the slightest of smiles. “I’m merely… in my head, is all.”

This was all fake. You had to remember that, even if you had to bash it into your head for it to stick. The charm practically oozed off of him, and though you’d been near immune to it when you were able to despise Anthony, it was much more difficult not to fall victim to it now that you considered each other… friends.

You are a lady, and he is a gentleman, you could picture your mother saying. It is nature’s oldest tale. There is no shame in it.

He is my brother, and you hate him, you heard Eloise scoffing in the same vein. The thought made you smile.

“Where are you taking me, Miss Worthing?” Anthony’s coy voice brought you out of your stupor once again, and you blinked.

As you looked around, you realized you’d already made it there. You turned to Anthony with a smile, your hands out as you gestured at the open field of grass behind your estate.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you asked. “I’ve brought you here to stargaze.”

“Stargazing,” he repeated, and he laughed a bit. “I’ve never…”

“You’ve never stargazed?” you finished, and he nodded. “It makes sense. A serious viscount such as yourself cannot be bothered with such frivolities.”

Anthony shrugged. “If you enjoy it, I would love to try.”

“It isn’t something you try so much as you just do,” you said as you sat down on the ground. You smoothed out your skirts and then looked up at Anthony, amused by the expression on his face.

“It’s alright, my lord,” you said. “I promise, the grass will not hurt you. My maids have worked out many a stain in my youth, so I assure you that will be alright as well.”

“I have a carriage coming,” he said.

“They can wait,” you said. “Can they not?”

He hesitated for a moment, and then his lips quirked into the slightest smile as he took a seat next to you. You took his hand, ignoring the skip of your heart, and you pulled him back so you were both lying down.

“How do you feel?” you asked. “Have you fallen ill yet?”

“Very funny,” Anthony said wryly. “I am just fine. Your worries are much appreciated.”

“I would never worry about the great Viscount Bridgerton,” you said haughtily. “He has everything handled at all times.”

“Hardly,” he countered, and he let out a sigh. “Lately it seems as if I’ve got nothing handled at all.”

You made a noncommittal noise. “Then you are quite the actor, my lord. You’re very good at looking perfect.”

“You think I look perfect?”

You turned your head to see Anthony looked at you, a sly smile on his lips, and though your rolled your eyes you could not hold back your amusement.

“Yes, Viscount Bridgerton,” you said playfully. “Quite perfect.”

“It is good to know that my betrothed no longer hates me.” Anthony allowed one of his hands to rest in the grass, and you could feel his eyes on you.

“Oh, we are not betrothed yet,” you said offhandedly. “The way my mother acts, though, you would certainly think so.”

“Well, then,” Anthony said, “would you further prove your devotion by showing me some of your constellations?”

You chuckled. “Of course.”

Your gaze turned to the sky, squinting slightly as you searched for your favorite. When you did, you made a sound of triumph and you sat up on your elbows. “There— do you see those?

He frowned as he pushed himself up as well, and in his focus he unconsciously leaned closer to you. “I do not see anything,” Anthony said, and you laughed.

“Right…” you shifted closer to him, and you took his hand in yours as you held it up to the sky. “There.” You traced the outline with his finger, and you glanced at him. “Do you see it now?”

“I do, but…” Anthony’s lips twitched into a smile for a moment. “It is just… lines. A triangle with lines.”

You laughed, full and bright. “It is, that much is true. But it is the constellation of Libra, in relation to astrology.”

“I did not know you were educated on astrology.”

“Oh, I am certainly not,” you said. “But it is the sign of my mother’s birth month, and it was the first constellation she taught me to find. Now, it is always the first one I seek out on nights such as these.”

His eyebrows rose ever so slightly. “You used to stargaze with your mother?”

You hadn’t truly realized the implications of what you’d said until his words, and you paused for a moment before you took your hand away from his and laid back down.

“It is alright if you do not want to talk about it,” Anthony said softly.

“It is not that,” you said, and you sighed. “It is just… that the relationship I have with my mother is a complicated one.”

You felt Anthony’s eyes on you still, and you bit your lip.

“I have always felt so small whenever I look to the stars,” you murmured. “I think it is part of the reason I still do it— for the perspective. To remind myself of how minuscule I am in the broad scheme of things.”

“I… think I feel the opposite, funnily enough,” Anthony said. “I do not stargaze, obviously, but I have always viewed an individual’s contribution as meaning far more than I can even imagine. Each and every person who has walked through my life has made some sort of impact— you have been, and still are, one of those.” He looked over at you with a surprisingly earnest expression. “You are certainly not minuscule. Not by any sort of margin.”

You found your cheeks heating up from his words, and you could not hold back your smile. “Why, Lord Bridgerton, that was quite a compliment. Are you sure you are feeling well?”

“I feel wonderful,” he said, his eyes still not leaving yours. You felt your cheeks heat and you had to look away.

“I know my mother only wants what is best for me. She pushes me so because there is no other choice, and she truly believes that it will just… click for me someday.” You pulled Anthony’s jacket tighter around your arms, but it was of no aid when the chills came from within. “And I feel as if I am failing my entire family by not being able to accept it.”

“I understand what it is like to have the weight of your bloodline on your shoulders,” Anthony said after a moment’s hesitation. “It is my job to ensure that my family stays afloat, that our finances are handled, that my siblings are provided for, that everything runs smoothly without a hitch. It is…” he huffed a small laugh. “It is overwhelming, I cannot lie. But it is my responsibility as the head of house, and so I take it on.”

“You are saying that I should pursue a real courtship,” you said dryly.

“That is not what I am saying,” Anthony countered with a glance at you. “You were correct when you said that I could leave at any time if I so desired. I do not, but if I wanted to, I could. I am pushed on through even the most difficult moments because of my love for my family. Everything I do is for them.”

“I still am not following.”

“If you want to be happy, then you must find your motivations,” Anthony finally said, “and you must follow where they lead you. No matter where that is.”

“So you are supporting my ill-advised rebellion.” You sat up, looking down at him with the beginnings of a smile. “Is that it?”

“I thought that quite obvious the moment I agreed to this ruse,” he responded wryly. “You are a bad influence, Miss Worthing. I am a man of honor.”

“Of course.” Your words were laced with mock austerity, and you sighed. “I just do not understand why I was born the sole daughter of a struggling family. It seems a cruel joke when there is none I despise more than marriage.”

“We are quite similar, you know,” Anthony said offhandedly. “We both have the fate of our families on our shoulders, and we both know what we must do for our name. It should be woefully easy, but… it isn’t.”

You shook your head. “We are not similar, my lord. Perhaps in structure, but not in much else.”

He raised his eyebrows, silently urging you to go forward.

“You are a man,” you said simply, “and you have everything because of it. You can have whatever life you please. It is not required of you to marry, though your mother might like it to have an heir from the first son. But I have nothing— I am nothing— without a man. The life that I so desperately want is one that I will never be able to have, not without giving up everything I hold dear.”

You swallowed thickly in your throat, turning away from Anthony to not give him a view of your imminent tears. “I either have to marry a man I will never love or abandon my family and become a disgrace, but I do not want either. It is as Eloise has always said — I just want so desperately to fly. Unfortunately, my wings are doomed to be clipped.”

“Miss Worthing…” Anthony started, but he trailed off just as quickly. He could not seem to find the right words to quell your worries, and it infuriated him beyond any sort of reason. He did not have a way with words like Eloise, he did not have the effortless charm of Colin nor the presence of Benedict, and he most certainly was not able to comfort others like Daphne — and yet the need to fix problems he himself was incapable of fixing washed over him so suddenly and so intensely he could hardly bear it.

“I am truly sorry.” It took him far too long to break the silence that hung in the air, only punctured once by your sharp intake of breath in an attempt to hold back tears. “I wish there was more I could do for you. There should be more I could do for you as a viscount, but…”

Sure that you would be able to hold back any tears should they decide to pester you once more, you turned to face Anthony with what you hoped was a convincing smile. “You need not apologize, my lord. You have already done far more for me than any rational man should have in your position.”

“One could argue it is because of you I’ve done all this,” he said. “You have a way about you that makes a rational man want nothing more than irrationality.”

That brought a genuine smile to your face, thankfully able to avoid the tears you thought were sure to come.

“You flatter me, Lord Bridgerton,” you said wryly.

“Anthony,” he said, and you blinked.

“Pardon?”

“I believe we are far past Lord Bridgerton,” he explained with a slight smile. “What, with how many times you have bared your soul to me this season, I should think Anthony is perfectly acceptable.”

You felt your cheeks heat up under his warm gaze as you nodded. “Then Anthony it shall be.”

Trying to recover from the embarrassingly soft moment, you cleared your throat and turned away once more. “Of course, your permission is not needed to refer to you as your name rather than a title, but I suppose it cannot hurt.”

This time, the smile was nearly palpable in his words. “Of course, Miss Worthing.”

You shook your head as you said your name. “If I am to call you Anthony, you shall call me by my given name as well. It is only fair.”

He raised his eyebrows. “When has fairness ever been a concern of yours in regards to me?”

“Anthony,” you said, though not without slight mirth, “will you do it?”

“If it is what you desire.” Anthony then said your name, and you could not deny how your chest spurned in such a way at the sound.

There was so much you yearned to say, so much on the tip of your tongue, nearly all of it relating to the man in front of you. How could there be so much of him on your mind, when just a mere fortnight ago you were joking with him about how much you could not stand him?

After ensuring none of your inner emotions were visible on your face, you turned back to him and offered a small smile. “It certainly is.”

But as he smiled back at you, that slight quirk of his lips that softened his features and brought out the light in his eyes that you had grown to appreciate but he did not have nearly enough…

You feared you were beginning to desire much more.

You looked at the sky above, and the stars twinkling back at you suddenly made you remember as you turned back to Anthony.

“We should get back,” you said. “It would be woefully inappropriate for a man of honor to miss his carriage.”

His lips twitched at your words. “You end our outing so soon?”

“You were against it in the first place,” you pointed out. “And I believe this has lasted far longer than I initially planned.”

“I was also against your ruse,” Anthony said, and when he stood up, he offered his hand. “But you seem to be quite skilled at changing my mind.”

It was so different from all the others, when he offered his arm for a promenade or took you to the dance floor, and it was why you hesitated. But you pushed the thought aside as you took it, and Anthony pulled you up from the ground.

“I suppose I am,” you joked.

“Thank you for this.” He brushed off his clothes, a smile as genuine as the others pulling at his lips. “It was enjoyable.”

“Just enjoyable?” you asked playfully.

“My apologies,” Anthony said. “This was fantastic. Incredible. Is life-changing satisfactory?”

You nodded, biting back your smile. “I believe so. Nothing with me is anything less than life-changing.”

“That is certain,” he agreed.

Anthony offered his arm and the two of you began walking back to the front of your estate. The silence was comfortable as it lingered in the air, only broken once you stopped in front of the carriage that he was indeed late for.

“I do mean it,” Anthony said, “my thanks for this. Sincerely so.”

“Of course,” you said. “If you ever find you are in need of some stars, my yard is always open.”

His lips quirked into a slight smile. “The stars do not have much meaning without you beside me to give them one.”

You huffed a slight laugh as your gaze turned upwards again. “Well, that is Cassiopeia,” you said with a gesture at the sky, and you managed a wry smile. “Though you will probably just see more lines.”

“If you tell me they are more than lines, then they are more than lines,” Anthony said. “That much, I know.”

You felt the warmth rise to your cheeks, and you curtsied to him. “I will see you tomorrow, Lord Bridgerton.”

“I will see you tomorrow.” Anthony hesitated, gazing into your eyes with abandon. He lifted your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to it, murmuring your name before he let it go.

And then he entered the carriage, though there was some form of reluctance in his movements. You waited until his departure, even longer after until he and his men were nothing but a speck in the distance, and it wasn’t until then that you could breathe freely.

“My lady?”

Your focus was broken at the sound of your lady’s maid’s voice, and you blinked a multitude of times as you turned around.

“Julia,” you said. “What brings you here?”

“You, my lady,” she said with a slight laugh. “You’ve just been… standing out here. Alone. Doing nothing.”

“My apologies,” you said with a practiced smile, though you wrought your hands together. “I appear to be in my head tonight. You needn’t come out here for me.”

“I wanted to make sure you were alright,” Julia said. “Is the viscount gone?”

“He is. I saw him off.” The skin where his lips touched still burned, and you felt a swell of something inside of you. “I— I should be settling in for the night.”

You began walking in at a hasty pace, but Julia easily matched it. “Of course. I will help you get ready.”

You shook your head, and you couldn’t help but cast one last glance out the door before it closed. You cleared your throat and looked back at Julia. “All I request is that you help me into my dressing gown, and then you can retire. I would like some solitude tonight.”

She nodded. “Of course, my lady.”

“Is my mother still awake?” you asked as the two of you walked up the stairs together.

“No,” Julia said. “She retired shortly after you and the viscount took your leave.”

“Good,” you murmured. You did not think you could deal with her much tonight. Not after… whatever it was that went on between you and him.

Julia did as asked, helping you out of your layers and into your nightgown before she took her leave.

Lying in bed alone, you found yourself staring at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep.

All you could think of was Anthony. His eyes boring into yours, the heat of his lips against your bare hand, his willingness to do something he likely saw as ridiculous merely because it made you happy. The weight of his jacket against your shoulders, the attentiveness he had towards you for him to have realized.

The softness with which he said your name, every syllable a symphony in your ears, more beautiful than anything simply because Anthony spoke it.

Oh.

Your heart hammered in your chest as the realization struck.

Oh.

You were doomed.

Split down the middle. It was an apt designation for how you felt in the coming days and weeks.

One part of you—the idiot, lovesick part—wanted nothing but to spend more time with Anthony Bridgerton. A singing heart every time Julia told you he awaited you in the drawing room, weakened knees when he offered his hand to pull you onto the dance floor, an unavoidable smile throughout any of your conversations. You finally realized what all those ladies saw in the Viscount Bridgerton.

The other part—the intelligent part that knew this was the one thing that could absolutely not happen—wanted nothing more than to ignore his every call. To stay silent during promenades, to refuse his dance offers, to stay shut in your room when he called on you. To be able to avoid him in every possible way because you could not encourage your feelings further.

It was terrible. Awful. Horrendous. You were quite sure that you loved Anthony Bridgerton, and the one thing you were meant to do was not love Anthony Bridgerton.

The more time you spent around him, the more you thought about him, the more you felt for him, and there was not a single way to avoid it because his courtship was the only thing keeping you above water.

You really were doomed.

“Are you even listening to me?”

You blinked as Eloise said your name, and you looked over at her. “I apologize. I was in my head.”

“You’ve been in your head quite frequently as of late,” Eloise said, and she huffed a sigh as she flopped onto the couch next to you. “I can only assume my brother is to blame.”

You felt your cheeks heat. If only she knew how true that was.

“He is part of it,” you admitted, turning your head slightly so she could not see any visible embarrassment. “It may not be easy to be a Bridgerton, but it’s by no means easy to be courted by one, either.”

“I can imagine,” she said with another sigh. “For how serious Anthony always is, he certainly is dramatic.” Eloise eyed you. “Would you like me to speak plainly?”

Your brows creased slightly, though you still didn’t look at her. “Always.”

“I honestly think he may be enjoying this,” she said. “Anthony has never been much for… anything, really. Anything besides duty. He’s pleasant around us for the most part, and I love him with all my heart, but he’s always so serious.” She shrugged. “It appears that you’ve brought out another side of him.”

Your breath caught in your chest for a moment. You still could not bring yourself to meet her eyes. “Truly?”

“Truly,” Eloise nodded. “When you end this, I believe he’ll come out the other side a better man. So I suppose I should thank you for this whole ruse.”

A smile played on your lips for a moment, but it fell just as quickly. You’d always known it was going to end—the ruse was your idea in the first place—and yet you were the one fighting against her impossible feelings. You were a damn doomed fool.

You had to fight the urge to hit your head against the back of the couch. You felt as if you were going insane, but you could not reveal the whirlwind inside your mind to anyone.

“There is no need to thank me,” you finally said. “It’s been a pleasure.”

“A pleasure,” Eloise said dryly. “Really?”

You nodded, finally sitting up and looking at her. “Yes. Anthony was a bit of a nuisance at first, but…” you smiled just at the thought of him. “We’ve become friends after all this time. Quite close friends.”

Eloise’s nose wrinkled, and then she sighed yet again. “I suppose it is a good thing if you two are getting along. As long as you will still trade barbs with me about him.”

You chuckled. “Always.”

You couldn’t tell her. You wouldn’t tell her, because there was no use in creating such a problem for no reason.

You loved Anthony, you were sure of that by now, though you had not previously thought it at all possible. And none of it mattered, because by the end of the season, your courtship would be a distant memory.

You and Eloise continued your idle chatter, but your heart was not in it. How could it be, when you could only think of Anthony? You could only think of Anthony, the one man you never thought you would want and now the one man you can never have.

It was ridiculous. He turned you into a ridiculous woman and you would never forgive him for it.

You’d always wondered how you would end your ruse when your mothers had grown so attached to the courtship, the idea of you as a Bridgerton.

Your mothers were no longer the problem.

The middle of the season came and went, your feelings for Anthony growing ever stronger—your disdain for those feelings grew alongside them.

Your parents were working harder than ever as the peak of the season approached—your father spent most nights bent over documents and papers regarding the finances, pushing pennies so that you would be able to afford the frivolities of the ton and appearing on the arm of a Bridgerton.

Your mother had a job of equal difficulty—she had to maintain the Worthing image and name. It had never been the best to begin with as one of the poorer families of the ton, but Anthony’s courtship had pushed you through the ranks. Your mother was determined to keep you there.

The pairing between you and Anthony should have remained the same stagnant charade, but it was difficult to act the same as always with your feelings evolving ever so. It did not help that both your mother and Lady Bridgerton were convinced a proposal was to be just around the corner when nothing could be further from the truth.

And it was not as if they were wrong for holding that belief. Were this a traditional courting, Anthony would likely be preparing to get down on one knee—instead, your promenades consisted of discussions on how best to end your situation.

(“Perhaps you could have a meltdown,” Anthony had suggested once. “It would certainly not come as a surprise to the ton—they would merely see it as what has been coming all along.”

“Your faith in me is truly astounding, Anthony,” you said dryly. “It is sure to be a mystery on how we did not work out.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I am only trying to work with you. Must I remind you that it was you that started this, all because you did not want to get married? This would simply be an extension—you’ve never wanted to marry a man before, what is one more to add to the list?”

“Yes, but…” you shook your head and sighed. “I fear we may have performed our act too well. At this point, it feels as if any means of our splitting will hurt our mothers and cause a riot in the ton, no matter how we do it.”

“I think you may be right,” Anthony said, and he frowned. “I do not know whether I want Hyacinth to find out you will not be her sister through Whistledown or through me—I know I could not handle the look on her face, but to let her discover it through gossip seems even worse.”

You could not help a sly smile at that. “Are you telling me I have charmed your family even more than I had before?”

He offered a smile of his own. “I believe I have charmed your family just as much, if not more. Your mother adores me more than ever.”)

No, it did not help that your mother adored him, and it did not help that Hyacinth and Gregory adored you. Every second spent around Anthony and his family pushed you further to your doom, and what a lovely doom it was.

Seeing Anthony dressed up at every ball was also not of aid, and you could not help but smile when your eyes met at the latest ball. You knew of your mother’s watchful eye over both of you, but you found you didn’t care when he offered his hand.

“You look beautiful,” Anthony murmured so only you could hear it as he led you out to the dance floor. You took up your positions and started the waltz—you had Anthony to thank for the increase in your skill, for the amount of dancing you did these days made it impossible for your ability to remain stagnant.

You chuckled a bit. “Thank you, Anthony, but nobody can hear us. You do not need to keep up appearances.”

The smile remained on his lips for just a moment too long before he blinked and nodded. “You are correct. I suppose it is just becoming a habit.”

Butterflies erupted in your chest, and in your flustered state, you fell out of the rhythm and missed your next step. If it hadn’t been for Anthony leading so well, you would’ve fallen.

How could he just say those things? How could he just say those frustratingly charming things without blinking an eye, words that made you trip over your feet and spurned warmth in your core and drove you insane?

Did Anthony even know what he did to you?

“Are you alright?” he questioned, and for a moment all you were able to do was stare into his eyes. They were beautiful.

“Yes,” you finally managed, clearing your throat as you glanced away for a moment.

It is just becoming a habit, he said, words that near perfectly echoed your own situation.

Each time you slipped your arm around Anthony’s, each time he was a caller in your drawing room for an early morning—early mornings which you were becoming all the fonder of with each outing—each time he smiled at you in that way of his, each time you looked into those warm brown eyes, each time he was just the slightest bit too close and you were able to feel your heart speed up and your breath hitch.

Being around Anthony Bridgerton was becoming a habit for you, you realized, a habit you did not want to let go of.

You did not realize Anthony was speaking to you until he said your name again and you snapped out of your thoughts, staring at him for a moment before you nodded.

“Apologies,” you covered up, “it seems I am very in my head tonight.”

“It is alright,” he said, smiling softly. “I was merely asking if your outing with your parents the other night went well.”

“Yes,” you breathed, “yes, it was quite pleasant.”

Though you answered, you could still hardly focus. And it was all because of the man you were dancing with, because of the delicate yet sure grip he had on your hands, because of the sweetest eyes you’d ever known gazing at you with reassurance.

You were horribly in love with Anthony Bridgerton, and there was nothing you could do about it.

“…So,” Anthony said as the two of you trailed through the streets, “remind me what you have roped me into?”

“I have not roped you into anything,” you said. “I am taking you to a rally; one for the advancement of women. I believe it would do you some good to see what your myriad of sisters put up with because of men like you.”

“Men like me?” he repeated, having the gall to sound slightly offended.

“Yes, men like you,” you agreed. “Men who do not even question why they are so deserving of their position so high above us, and do not even think to change things because society solely benefits them.”

“Do you ever get tired of your constant bitterness?” he asked dryly.

“No,” you responded cheerfully, “I only get tired of you.”

“Ah,” he said with a nod. “That is why you have not only decided to be my fake courtee for an entire season, but to willingly bring me along on one of your weekend escapades.”

“I put up with you so I will not have to put up with those even more irritating,” you reminded him.

“And that is why you always smile at me with the strength of a thousand suns while we dance?” he asked. “Why you continue to promenade with me and indulge my conversational whims and accept me without complaint as a constant caller?”

You shrugged, and you hoped the heat rushing to your cheeks was not visible. Perhaps he could read you better than you thought. “As I said, it is so I will not have to put up with those more irritating. I have come to appreciate you.”

“Times like these, I wonder if we are truly faking it,” Anthony said. “We already bicker as much as a married couple — perhaps we have somehow skipped the engagement and the wedding and gone right into the arguments.”

“I believe that is simply called friendship, Anthony.”

He raised his eyebrows, a smile tugging at his lips as he said your name. “You see me as a friend?”

“And now I regret saying it,” you laughed.

“Oh, do not lie,” Anthony said wryly. “Why have you brought me here, if not to argue on the way?”

“It is simply a learning experience for you,” you scoffed. “It is actually quite enriching, Anthony. You may want to take your leave now though, lest you end up learning something.”

“You are truly hilarious,” he said, devoid of emotion. He glanced down at the basket you carried in your hands before looking back to you. “And what is in there?”

“Any goods I can spare,” you said. “I am one of the poorer ladies in the ton, but I am still more fortunate than many of the women that attend these rallies. They are often working mothers and sisters trying their best to support their families, but it is hardly ever enough. I do what I can to make it even the slightest bit easier for them.”

Anthony went silent, and when you glanced at him he had an odd look on his face, his gaze set on you.

“What?” you asked, and he offered the smallest smile.

“That is quite a gesture,” he finally said. “Most families in society tend to ignore anyone beneath them. They would not be caught dead in a place like this.”

“They are not beneath me,” you corrected. “They are not beneath any of us. None of them have chosen the lives they lead; wealth begets wealth, and poverty the same. It is a vicious cycle that hardly anyone is able to break out of. I see no reason why I should not use my privilege to make anyone’s life even the slightest bit easier.”

“Besides,” you said with a raise of your brow, “you are here with me, are you not?”

Anthony nodded after a moment. “I suppose you are rubbing off on me.”

You smiled. “I am glad to have gotten through to you on at least one thing. Helping others with your wealth is perhaps the best thing for you to pick up from me, I think.”

“You are quite good at ruining the moment, are you aware?”

“Oh,” you said with a cheeky smile, “I absolutely am.”

You soon made it to the opening where the rally was being held. Though some were underground in the metaphorical sense, this one was rather out in the open. It was in a darker corner of the city, so you supposed the organizers did not think they would be disturbed.

You wandered around with Anthony for a bit as you emptied your basket to a variety of women and youths, and by the time the first speaker had begun, you had handed out everything you’d brought.

You took Anthony’s hand and pulled him behind you as you moved through the crowd to get closer, and when you tried to let go of his hand, he wouldn’t let you. You smiled up at him, and it seemed as if he’d only realized what he’d done in that moment.

“I do not trust this part of town,” he whispered to you. “It is for your protection.”

“Of course,” you whispered back, though you could not hide your mirth as you turned back to the speaker.

It was wonderful. She spoke of all sorts of things relating to women and the betterment of your sex, how they deserved a place in Parliament and a voice and respect for more than motherly duties, how—

“This is unseemingly,” Anthony huffed.

You frowned. “How?”

“This is hardly a proper place for anyone.” His eyes darted around.

“This is where I am to end up if I do not figure out a better way out of the ton,” you said. “This is how a majority of London lives.”

“I am aware of that,” he muttered. “Do not think me so naive that I do not understand my privilege. I just…” Anthony shook his head and sighed. “No matter. How many of these have you been to?”

“Five, I believe.” You frowned. “Six, actually. There was the time I told my parents I was ill and snuck out.”

“It is a miracle you are still alive,” Anthony marveled.

You shrugged. “I never said I was intelligent. Merely smart.”

He laughed, genuine and full, and you found yourself smiling.

And then there was yelling.

Your brows creased again as you looked to the front, only to see a man. His burly and unkempt appearance weren’t the only off-putting things about him. He spat rhetoric against everything the rally stood for, and the look in his eye was chilling.

You’d heard of this happening before, of men from the city who indulged their baser instincts and liked the world just the way it was now, invading rallies and meetings held by women just to create problems and spread fear.

Some cries ran out around the crowd, and your head whirled around to see other men like the one yelling pushing through the sea of people, intimidating and snapping their way through. You went to take a step back, but Anthony was already ahead of you as his grip on your hand tightened.

It appeared that this was one of those times.

“Ah,” you said, beginning to back up alongside Anthony. “I forgot to mention one thing to you.”

“And that is?” he asked, annoyance coloring his words.

“This gathering is not exactly legal.” You winced as a pairing shouldered past you, but you held fast onto Anthony’s hand. “I’d say it’s quite illegal, actually. Which is why it can be interrupted in this fashion.”

“Wonderful,” he breathed. “I’d say that it is time to take our leave. Would you agree?”

“Yes,” you said, “I would.”

The glint of a knife caught your eye even from afar, gripped in the hand of one of the men, and a lady’s scream pierced the air.

And then full-on chaos broke out.

Everything after that was mostly a blur. Something triggered inside of Anthony, clear in the wild look in his eye, and his only thought was seemingly to get you out unharmed. It worked for the most part, to his credit, though you didn’t get away completely unscathed.

You also did not get away together. Somewhere in the middle, someone had barreled between the two of you and broken your link. Anthony had lost you in the rush, and he felt as if he was going insane.

This may have been your idea, illegal as it was, but he was not going to allow anything to happen to you. He couldn’t allow anything to happen to you— he couldn’t.

He shouted your name, once, twice, three times, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried his best to navigate through the insanity. This was no longer a rally, this was a riot, and with you missing Anthony truly feared the worst. His stomach twisted into knots just thinking about it.

He’d just passed an alleyway when a hand darted out of nowhere and pulled him to the side; though his first instinct was to break away, the weight of his anxieties disappeared when he saw who had dragged him over.

Anthony said your name with complete relief, his shoulders dropping as the tension faded away. “I couldn’t find you, and I thought the worst— thank God you’re safe.”

“Thank God you are safe,” you murmured, and he chuckled as he shook his head. Somehow, in this situation, you were worried about him.

“I still cannot believe you are here,” Anthony huffed. He moved to the edge of the alleyway to watch, waiting for the chaos to clear out. “Is this truly what you are engaging in every weekend? Barbaric riots where its attendees are lucky to make it out alive?”

“I promise,” you said through a shaky exhale, pressing your aching fingers to your chest as you held your good hand against your bleeding nose, “they are never like this.”

His eyes darted back over to you, and that was when he noticed the injury. “God, what happened to you?”

You opened your mouth to diminish it, but Anthony moved over and began examining you for worse injuries. You let out a breathy laugh and shook your head. “I am fine, Anthony, trust me. Men in these parts believe in one vein of equality, at least, seeing as I was punched in the face.”

His eyes widened and it only made you smile more. “Do not worry. I punched him back.” You held up your hand, bunching it into a fist. “I believe my knuckles will bruise something fierce later, though.”

Anthony shook his head, another breathless laugh taking him. “You are truly something else.”

“And I am fine,” you assured, though the slight strain of your voice said something different. Anthony did not notice, though, and he moved back to his spot on the edge watching for clearings.

“You said you have been to six of these before,” Anthony said. “And they have never been like this?”

“Never.”

“Then I assume this riot was something special they planned just for me.”

“You jest, but you may not be far from the truth.” You chuckled but immediately winced. “You are bad luck, Anthony.”

“I am bad luck?“ He turned and fixed you with a pointed look. “You are the one who threw herself into the middle of a fight; it is fortunate you got away with so few injuries.”

You huffed a laugh but a sharp pain once again shot through your chest, far more extreme than the last, and you barely managed to stifle your gasp of pain. You took your hand away from your nose and pressed it against your side, but all it caused was an even greater ripple of pain throughout your entire body.

When you took your hand away, every part that had been against your dress was coated in a shimmering layer of blood, a small drop falling from your finger and splattering to the ground below. Your heart caught in your throat as you weakly pulled at the hem, crimson red seeping through the laceration in the fabric as a confirmation of the injury below.

So it seemed you had not been lucky enough to get away with only a bloody nose and bruised knuckles.

“...Anthony?” you managed weakly, your limbs growing heavy as your vision began to blur. “I… it…”

Anthony’s head whipped around. His eyes were the last thing you saw, wide with fear and lips moving in silent panic as he lunged towards you.

And then the world around you faded into darkness.

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