#first i have to lose weight and then we have to see about what problems remain after that and the pcos has been so unmanageable
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Oh Baby | part two
part two.
word count: 10.8k
Warnings: wee bit angsty (an argument), mentions of sex + pregnancy
The repercussions of Lewis' birthday night are not as sweet.
You don't remember anything after your life-changing orgasm. You vaguely recall Lewis standing bare and walking into the bathroom. Your eyes were low and droopy, and you could only offer him a loving smile that had his cheeks burning.
"M'gonna clean you up for a second, okay."
You only hum, allowing him to spread you open; this time, it's not sexual at all; it's romantic. Oh god, you thought. You should've known the sex with Lewis would make you go mad.
He swipes the warm cloth between your legs, wiping the glistening remainder of your arousal away.
The sight of his cum oozing from your hole has him taking a harsh gulp. He'd have to remind you to take whatever precautions you found necessary in the morning.
If you weren't so burned out and exhausted, the sight of him walking around in the nude with his golden and tatted-on skin display would've had you jumping his bones again.
You can't help but laugh at yourself as he returns from cleaning himself up.
"What you laughing about?" He grins, hovering over you. You smile, looking at him like he's hung the moon and the stars. "Myself."
The two of you look like two love-sick high schoolers, completely enamored with each other.
Lewis lowers and captures your lips in a kiss, slow and sweet. One peck after the other before his weight is on top of you. He rolls off of you with a groan, turning you so that you're face to-face with him on your side.
His hand falls to your bare waist, pulling you against him.
"We need t'sleep."
He sits up, chuckling as you whine from losing his body heat. With one arm, he gently hoists your legs up enough to pull the comforter from underneath your body. He is back in his place instantly, the cover now offering another layer of warmth.
You're trying your hardest to keep your eyes open and stay in this moment because you'll probably never get to experience Lewis like this again, this loving and intimate.
"Going to be right here in the morning; go to sleep, bunny."
Like he had a spell over you, your eyes close for the final time, and you feel his palm cup your face.
Lewis can't help but watch you fall into slumber. His finger prods against your face, tracing your mouth, eyebrows, and nose. He could already remember every detail of your face. If he were a blind man, he thinks he'd have no problem telling you apart from the rest of the world.
He didn't think it was possible to love you more than he already does, but feeling the way his heart reacts wildly to you laying flush against him naked and comfortable has him ready to read his (prewritten) vows to you in the morning.
He doesn't want to sleep; he wants to stay here and take it all in. He's probably moving too fast, but he can't wait to tell your friends, your guys' family, hell, even the world, that you love him.
Hearing those words from you detonated the lengthiest, most robust orgasm from him that he'd ever experienced. He'd never come so much, so hard in his life.
Hearing you say you love him in your angelic whimpers, tears falling out the corner of your eyes, holding onto him so tight, fuck, he's hard again just thinking about it.
"I love you," he whispers into the night, kissing your forehead before turning off the lights.
-
You awake first in the morning, dazed and confused. You feel a heavy mass weighing you down. You squint, open your eyes, and you see him. Lewis, your best friend, face nuzzled in your neck, his arm thrown over your waist, holding you tight as if you were going to float away from him in your sleep.
"Oh fuck," you groan lowly as last night's events seep back into you like scenes from a movie.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
You gently reach for his arm, carefully lifting it off your body. You pull a pillow from your side, pushing it under his neck as you slide away and gently drop his arm.
You were unsure of how to go about this whole situation. Would he remember it when he woke up? The passionate sex? The beautiful night? You two were off-your-face drunk. Would he laugh at the words you shared? Brush it off. You wouldn't blame him, it'd hurt for you to hear, but logically, it'd make sense; he was in a sex stupor, drunk and horny, and that'd lead to all kinds of words coming out in a daze.
There's no telling how long you stood there like a deer caught in headlights before you began pulling his shirt over your frame. You crept into his closet, thanking God for the array of shoes and clothing of your own filling his space. You tugged on a pair of Nike crew socks and a pair of boyshorts, reaching for the pair of black Ugg Tasmans Lewis had gotten.
You stood in his walk-in closet, staring at yourself in the full mirror, and sighed.
What the fuck were you supposed to do? You were sure you crossed the line this time and abandoned boundaries that were needed in order to keep your feelings at bay. You knew you couldn't keep putting yourself through the same demise.
You didn't know how you would handle the situation when it approached, but in the meantime, you knew you needed to get away from Lewis. You needed to leave his home and be far away from him before you did or said something to ruin your guys' friendship for good.
You creep from the closet quickly, not sparing a glance at the man on the bed; as you grip the handle to his bedroom door, he speaks up from behind you.
He is sat up, back against his headboard, watching you try to leave, "Just going to leave?"
You turn to him awkwardly, hand dropping from the handle, "I-uh, didn't know what you'd want, wasn't sure how to go about-"
"You're not a fucking booty call, Y/n," he says it like you're the most ridiculous person alive like he can't fathom the words coming from your mouth; because he can't.
"Just going to leave me after fucking me? Without a word, while I'm still asleep, that was your plan?"
Your mouth plops open and closed like a fish, searching for the words you stammer out incoherent excuses. Lord, he's got such a dirty mouth.
"Get back in the bed." He cuts you off.
Like a dog to a bone, you stride over to the bed, kicking off your slippers, and you're beside him again.
You're staring at the door, and he is staring at you. The covers hang low over his body, only just covering what had you going crazy last night.
You clear your throat, waiting for him to put you out of your misery. Get it over with, you thought to yourself as you braced for impact.
"Last night was fun," He hummed.
You let out a stifled laugh, finally turning to look at him. His face was still covered in morning haze, and his voice was extra raspy and groggy. He smiles as you, eyes low and droopy.
"I want to address what we-"
You thought you'd be able to take it. You aren't that fucking strong.
"Yeah, no, it's fine." you laugh awkwardly. "I understand. I feel the same way." You don't, but you continue anyway. "We were drunk and in a mad sex stupor, I'm not holding it against you."
"I don't-"
"It was a mistake," you rambled on.
Lewis' mouth plops shut, and he can't tell if his mouth has been dry from his sleep or if the words you're speaking to him have done it.
"You didn't want it?" He question abruptly, putting an end to your nervous break.
"I mean, of course, I wanted it; I initiated it. I was just drunk and turned on; no need to make it a big deal is what I'm saying; we're both off the hook."
Lewis stands from the bed, his bare body on full display. He wants to tell you to shut up and stop downplaying the night he spent with you. He wants you to say to him that you're lying, but you don't, and it's making him angrier as the second goes on.
There are so many sentences he wants to respond to, but he can only grapple with one at a time. You're talking too much, and he's talking too little.
"I was just going to make it easier for you. Usually, you prefer if girls leave, right? That's what you said."
He has said that, but why the fuck would he be talking about you. Why the fuck would other girls include you.
He looks like a wild man, and you look like his blubbering bunny.
"Why do you say shit like that?" He shouts.
His loud tone takes you aback, and your head cranes to watch him incredulously. "What are you talking about?" You fire back.
"You say stupid shit like that all of the time like I'm some kind of fucking manwhore."
You scoff, standing up from the mattress as well. At this point, you are glaring at each other from across the bed.
"You think I don't get enough of it, huh? Do you think I don't get sick of hearing you guys laugh at me? I can't help-"
"I'm not picking at you, Lew, I didn't-"
"But you look at me like that. That's how you feel?"
He wants to know if that is the reason his words went in one ear and out the other.
"Oh please, I've always told you how I feel. If I viewed you as some slut I would've said it." You wave your hand; this had to have been the stupidest argument ever, Lew knew your character, and he knew how much you admired him and his; he'd have to be a fool to think that you'd ever demean him.
"It's not about what you say! It's what you do!"
"Exactly!" you holler back. "I don't fucking laugh at you, Lew! I don't fucking kiki with the rest of the friends when they point out your new fucking flavor of the month! I defend you. You can't control it. You can't help it! You said it yourself it's in your fucking blood to fuck everything with two legs. Like having an itch, you can't scratch. I don't fucking judge you. It's just who you are." You snap. And you hate getting mad because it makes you go on and on.
"Don't even know my character enough to believe I would say some shit about you; supposed to be my best friend, and you can't even properly gauge who I am." It comes out as an angry sneer, and you're right back to slipping on your shoes.
Lewis pulls on a pair of sweats, clamoring over to you; his hand grasps your wrist before you harshly pull it away.
"Last night," he shouts, "I'm not defiling your character; you said it last night."
"Lew, last night." you laugh, you genuinely cackle. "This is because I joked that you ran rabid after leaving Nicole? You did! I was there with you, do you not fucking remember, every night someone new! Just because you slowed down doesn't mean it ever stopped."
"You called me a fucking slut, y/n! Like a fucking bitch, I wouldn't date you, Lew; you're a manwhore." He mocks.
"You called yourself that; I said if the condom fits! You're upset because I said you made it easy for me not to want to be with you? If your ego is bruised, just say that!"
And you're missing the point he is bruised yes, but because he wants you to want him and you don't. Lewis is mad that you don't want to be with him. He is hurt and bothered by the fact that you can brush off the night you spent together like it's nothing.
And you're right; Lewis knows you're right, and he's just trying to find any reason to be mad at you. Of course, you wouldn't return his feelings; when you had them, he gave his affection to other women.
But hearing the person he loves call him out for it doesn't hurt any less. He feels like an idiot now, starting an argument over a situation that wasn't even relevant. He should be telling you he loves you, but now he's gotten you fired up and knows you're hard to diffuse.
You mutter curse words under your breath, frustrated, as your shaking hands keep you from slipping on your shoes. You were never a good angry person, so you'd rather avoid conflict completely. But when your frustrations began ticking inside of you, it was only a matter of time before you finally blew.
"All of this because I answered a fucking question you asked me last night, drunk ass motherfucker! I should've never fucking told you; look where the fuck that's got us, arguing over a relationship that never even happened that we're not even fucking in, so fucking stupid! The fuck do I look like trying to keep a man who doesn't wanna be kept? I'm supposed to wait around and pine after you? No fucking way, I've had my fair share of men like you." You're not saying these words directly to Lewis; he can hear them as you get increasingly frustrated. "Fucking idiot. Calling me out my name because your feelings are hurt; if it was such a fucking issue, you would've addressed it last night. Really you should have fucking addressed everyone else."
Finally, you spin around when the slipper is on, not expecting him to be so close. You jab a finger in his chest, looking up at him. "Yeah, you've pissed me off; this is not because you think I called you a manwhore. You know you sleep around. We all know it; I never said it was a bad thing. What are you really mad at, huh, Lewis? Say it!"
He says nothing, but his brain screams the words over and over: I love you.
You let out a bitter laugh, and you're relatively calm for how fired up you had been seconds ago. "Your anger is misdirected, and I'm not going to take it. So when you figure out what's got you so pissy, talk to me because I'm not here for you to yell at."
You're leaving his room in an instant. He can hear your footfall declining down his stairs and the way you snatch your keys from the hook. You don't slam his door, but from his window, he watches as you angrily march to your car, slamming your door and reversing from his driveway way too fast. It has his heart dropping as you nearly ram into another car.
He sighs as you pull down the street and disappear from his sight. "Fuck!" He roars, his fist shooting into his wall. He lets out a deep breath, his hand coming to rub over his face. Fuck.
He feels choked up and tingly as his eyes water. The two of you had never fought this bad, which says a lot, especially for how long you've been friends. He's never called you out of your name, and today he called you a bitch. You were far from a bitch, you were his sweet bunny.
You just wanted to make sure he was comfortable and that you stayed within the bounds. How were you to know that he didn't want you to leave?
You're a mess as you drive home, tears streaming down your face. Surprised you even made it there safely.
When you're home and starting your shower, you see all of the evidence Lewis left behind on your skin, and it breaks you down into a fit of tears. You wish you had never crossed the lines because you were sure the two of you wouldn't return from this.
-
Lewis has yet to contact you. It's been two weeks since that day. You tried to go about life as normal, but it was hard when you had spent every waking day talking to Lewis. You hadn't seen Roscoe since Lewis' birthday either, and that tore an entirely new part of your heart. Roscoe was like your child; he was with you when Lewis had to be on the road, so essentially, you spent an abundance of time with your four-legged friend.
You could reach out to him, but you'd be dammed if you put your pride to the side to alleviate your best friend's superiority complex.
He yelled at you, calling you out of your name first. Call it childish, but it wasn't your job to apologize first. Of course, you planned on apologizing for your own actions, for calling him an idiot, because you truly regretted it, and it has been hanging heavy over your head ever since then. But he had to give in first.
You haven't gone out with your friends as a group since then either, opting to go on your regular outing with one or two of them at a time. You've seen in Miles' story that Lewis has been out with them many times. You try not to cry as you see Lewis in the background of a video chatting up another girl in Daniel's close friends. After the initial gloom, you felt infuriated.
Here you were giving him grace, withholding time with your friends so as not to make him uncomfortable and to give him time to come to his own senses and the whole time, he's out committing the same crime that made him blow up at you. Here you were suffering because after all of these years, he still didn't show you the same grace he shows others when it comes to communicating. Why does he shut down when it comes to you but is so vocal and mature with his feelings to other people. Two things were obvious, you weren't kids anymore, and he wasn't to be coddled by you anymore. And secondly, you were done making deluded excuses for this man. He'd take accountability when it came to you.
-
Lewis awakes with his head pounding; he is in a random hotel, a random woman atop his chest in deep slumber. He sneaks from the bed, searching for his phone and tugging on his clothes.
He was drunk off his ass and chatting her up because she looked like you, and in the end, when they made it back to her room, he couldn't get hard without thinking about you, and by that time, he was over it, not wanting to do anything with the woman at all. You really fucked him up.
When Lewis arrives home, he is barely sober. He pours food into Roscoe's bowl, rubbing his head.
Roscoe has been feeling the impact of your departure, too. Could Lewis even say you left him? He sighs as Roscoe whines, nudging your walking shoes left by the front door. "I know, boy. I miss her too."
Lewis didn't know why he couldn't just call you and tell you he was sorry. You left the ball in his court, so obviously, you were open to having a mature conversation with him. But as the days went on and he still hadn't called, he began to realize that perhaps he had waited too long, and it was doing more damage than good.
He stumbles up to his room, stripping from his clothes and plopping onto his bead, Roscoe is up and beside him in an instant, snuggling into his side. Like routine, his hand reaches over to his nightstand, rustling through the stack of papers until he finds one of the many letters you'd gifted him for his birthday.
Lewis always kept your letters, especially when he was far away and traveling; nothing made him happier as a kid than his dad arriving with handwritten messages for him when you couldn't make it to his races. Your birthday gift, though, was a collection of unsent letters you'd had for years, dating back to as early as high school. He reread them all, scanning every word like they were the bible. He never told you this, but he kept them in a folder that traveled everywhere with him when he had to be gone for longer periods of time.
The letter he rereads now has been attached to him since the day you left, which was from your second year in high school.
Hello Lewis,
I won't be able to make it to your race next week. Get this, I'm on punishment at sixteen years old! You're always getting me in trouble, and you're not even here :( Do you remember Henry Glasgow? Let's just say he's finally gotten what he deserved. No matter what anyone says, your work is paying off, and you're doing great! I saw you on the TV the other day, and boy, did you look great out there. Mum recorded it for me, so I rewatch it so many times a day like a weirdo. I miss you tons, Lew, but I'm so very happy that you were able to get out of this forsaken city. Don't worry; I'm still defending your honor while you're away; let Henry's nose be proof of that. I've made a friend since you've gone away, her name's Whitney but I call her whit whit just like you're my lewlew; I can't wait for you to meet her. She's very bold and different from what we're used to, but she's a sweetheart. I love her to pieces, but I love you wholly, so she's not really doing much to heal how much I miss you, Lew. This is the longest we've been away from each other, and although we talk on the telly every day, I would like to be with you again. But nevertheless, I am so very proud of you, and I support you full send. I know you can be the greatest you already are if you ask me. But I can't wait until the world knows your name. Just promise you won't leave me behind when it does, yeah? Keep moving fast; Pops likes to brag about you everywhere we go, and I love to hear anyone hype you up like you deserve; plus, I bet twenty bucks on you to win next week, and my allowance is already gone, so make me some money. I can only give you the same words of encouragement you've heard a million times, I am truly my father's daughter. You're a cheetah, Lew: move silently and let your actions do the talking. Make quick decisions, but move even quicker. I know it's hard, but don't ever let what they say get to you; you've got a greater mission to accomplish. There are people out there who admire you and have faith in you. Let me be proof of that. Always remember that what you can't say, I will.
Love you more than you'll ever know, Lew.
p.s tell Nico that unless he wants me to go broke, he needs to push it a little harder.
From Bunny. <3
-
One day of no contact became a week, and a week became a month; soon, he was in the Middle East racing in the first grand prix of the season two months later, and he still hadn't heard from you. He was racing terribly, and he couldn't even blame it on the car. On the track, he wasn't focused; he could only think about you. And that had put him into the wall (literally) more times than he could count. He had let the best person in the world slip from his grasp, and his mind couldn't grasp that.
His friends knew something was up between the two of you and for the first time ever they decided not to meddle, and he appreciated it just as he was sure you did too. That didn't mean that he didn't ask about you.
Every call home to his mum he asks about you. He sits on the phone with your dad listening to updates on your life. They never question anything between you and him so he assumes you haven't disclosed your argument to anyone. But they know, they always know.
He could tell you were taking every step in order to ensure that you wouldn't run into him. When your family came out to see him you were miracously always busy with work. When your friends invited you out you were never feeling well.
He felt bad that you felt you had to sacrifice your enjoyment just to not be around him.
He revels in the glimpses he gets of you on your friends story, chuckles at the constant pictures Daniel posts of you that you obviously wouldn't have agreed to. He knows you probably threatened to kill him everytime. He likes every picture.
He nearly cries as he watches you from a fan account, bouncing Nicholas up and down as he places on podium in one of his own races.
Your dad's birthday was next week, and he knew you weren't going to miss it. He also knew he wasn't going to skip out on your father, so he mentally prepared himself to be a man and get his shit together. There was no way you could avoid him when you were stuck with him for a week.
*
You, Miles, and Nicholas had been out and about all day exploring the town before you finally decided to head back to the villa. When you three initially left, everyone else was bunkering down for a post-flight nap.
When you opened the door, you froze in your tracks as you saw Lewis hugging your dad in greeting. You don't know why you figured he wouldn't show, but when he wasn't on the flight with the rest of you guys, it had your hopes high.
Everyone's head swivels toward the front door as you emerge, he makes eye contact with you and even goes as far to offer you a smile. You don't return it. Nicholas rushes pass you to hug his brother jostling the many bags in your arm as he passes by.
Lewis hugs him, but his eyes once again fleet back to you.
You suck your teeth, looking away from him and waltzing up the stairs and towards the back of the house where you had claimed your room.
You hardly had the time or the energy to worry about Lewis. You were tired, and the Brazilian heat had you going through it. You kick your bedroom door closed and drop your bags onto your bed.
All you had to do was get through a week of being in his presence. You had your friends and family here with you. It wouldn't be too hard to stay away from him. You shower and then get dressed right in time for dinner.
The sun was still out by the time you descended the stairs; everyone had been lounging around in the living room waiting for you to finish.
Lewis feels like a starved bear as the dress sways against your thighs. Like always, you look beautiful.
"And the princess has arrived!" Your cousin shouts, "Girl, hurry your ass up, we've been waiting on you. I'm hungry." The room erupts in laughter as you pause on the stairs and shoot her the middle finger.
"Doesn't the princess deserve a grand entrance?"
Your head immediately turns to Lewis as if you can feel his stare on you. He sits, legs spread open, hands folded in his lap, and looks at you like he had had the night of his birthday. Like he wants to devour you.
You shake the memory from your head as everyone heads out of the door and piles into the three sprinters out front.
"Aw, twins!" Whit coos, pointing between you and Lewis, "So in sync."
You let out the fakest laugh he's ever heard, wiping the smile clean from his face, "Ah ha ha, let's go."
When it's your time to pass through the door, you feel a presence behind you, and you know it's Lewis as his signature cologne wafts through your nostrils. As you descend down the front steps, you feel his hand come up to rest against your lower back.
A part of you wants to tell him to back up and that you don't need his assistance, but the soft spot you'll always have for him has you accepting his graces.
You freeze, watching as two of the three vehicles pull off, fuck.
So much for being able to avoid him.
You can still feel him hot on your trail as you waddle to the last sprinter. You're helped up by the driver, offering him a sweet smile. Ironically enough, the last two seats are side by side in the back row.
You groan internally, slipping into the seat by the window. Lewis follows after you, slipping between you and Miles.
"So what? This is the kid's bus?" You joke, leaning over the seat in front of you to tug on your cousin's braids. "Be happy it is." She grins, pulling a bottle of Clase Azul from the floor. Everyone erupts into cheers as she passes the bottle around. She hands it to you first, but you quickly pass it on to Lewis. You hadn't drunk alcohol since that night, and when you tried, the smell of it physically made you sick. You were convinced that the stress of that night had made your brain repel your favorite pastime.
"Girl." Whitney gasped, "You're not drinking?"
"Hell no, I gag just thinking about that shit."
It's been so long since Lewis last heard your voice and seen you so carefree he wants to shout out his praises as you start a conversation within the van.
Your leg is flush against his, your thigh rubbing against his own with every jostle you take down the bumpy roads.
You don't speak to Lewis throughout the entire ride. When he speaks, you tune into your phone or manage another conversation with those around you. Though it does bring you an unwanted sense of comfort to hear his childlike giggles again. You'd missed them just as much as you missed him.
This time, when the doors open, they are opened on your side, and you cheerfully hop out, wrapping your arms around your girls and skidding to the dock where you can see a great portion of your family and friends already loaded onto the yacht.
You loved celebrating; it was no secret you were the life of the party anywhere you went, which is why you were always so grand when it came to spending time with the people you loved. Life is beautiful, as your father would say; you might as well live like it.
Lewis and the guys exit behind you all, he watches you scamper off with that stunning smile on your face waving to the family members and friends you hadn't saw yet.
An hour goes on of everyone mixing and mingling; your family is technically Lewis' as well, so it's no surprise when he is pulled into hugs and smooches left and right. It makes it easy to avoid him every time you sense him getting closer. You see him catching up with your grandparents, aunt, uncles, and cousins.
He is close to your entire family, which made it even more annoying for you to be asked about Lewis in damn near every conversation. You were never nasty about it because, after all, you two shared the same relationships, so you simply smiled and directed your family toward him with every inquiry. You didn't expect his relationship with your family to end just because you two weren't...you two?
And then another wave of questioning is aiding in your irritated mood, we're the two of you even best friends anymore. Best friends don't go months without speaking to each other.
Lewis can't help but watch your every move. It's obvious to everyone that there is a lingering tension between you two. There has never been a moment where the two of you weren't connected at the hip. So, the safe distance you're keeping between the two of you is making questions arise. He is standing off to the side, his mind running; he's never once felt like an outsider in your life more than now. His feelings were hurt because, for the first time, he was getting updates about you from others rather than being the one dishing the facts out. He's used to knowing everything when it comes to you, and now it feels like he's chapters behind in a book everyone else is close to finishing.
"I know my daughter." Your dad speaks up from behind Lewis as he watches him watch you. Lewis turns his head, catching sight of your father before walking and leaning his back onto the railing beside him. "And I know you just as well; why are you two acting like divorcée?"
"What's happened, my boy?"
Lewis shakes his head, eyes downcast to the glass in his hand. He couldn't tell your father that he'd spent the night of his birthday making love to you and having the most romantic twilight he'd ever experienced. He couldn't tell him that he spewed out his true feelings in the midst of it and fucked shit up the next morning.
"We haven't talked in months," Lewis admits.
Your dad leans away from Lewis, eyes set in disbelief. "Months?"
Lewis only nods, looking straight ahead at you. You're standing with his father infront of a group, his arm thrown over your shoulder, yours wrapped around his waist, his father is obviously a wee bit tipsy as he laughs boisterously, you're supporting his frame throwing in side comments to whatever story his father was telling.
"Do you want to talk to her?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then why are you not?" He inquires like it's all so simple.
"Because it's your daughter," he scoffs. "And when she's mad, she's mad. It's not that easy."
You father laughs, "She is her mother's daughter." He corrects. "You know her, eventually she always puts her pride to the side. She's waiting for you to talk to her first. Have you tried."
"No, sir."
He lets out a boisterous laugh that has a sheepish smile skittering onto Lewis' face.
"You're too old to still be scared of my baby. My best advice is this: you lot know each other better than anyone in the world and love each other more than anyone in the world. If you think she's willing to give that up and vice versa, you're both idiots."
Lewis nods. They stand in contemplative silence as the older man's hand comes up to clap against his shoulder, where he holds onto Lewis as they sip from their glasses.
"You know," Lewis lights up, "that's where she gets that shit from; she called me an idiot when we argued."
"And were you being an idiot?" He queries.
"Well, Yes, sir."
"Okay then." He walks away not sparing so much as another word to Lewis and he is once again left alone.
You were relieved when dinner started, only to approach the table and see name cards posted in front of every seat. Just your luck. Right next to your seat, the postcard next to you reads Sir Lewis.
This time, you physically couldn't control your reaction as you threw your hands on your hips, your eyes searching for someone to switch with. Just as you reached over to swap Lewis' and Anthony's place cards, the group approached, and everyone stared at you with inquisitive eyes as you slowly dropped them back into place.
You smiled, sliding into your designated seat, eyes straight ahead as your father and Lewis slipped into their own.
Lewis side-eyes you as he sees that it was his name you tried to swap. You were always so petty.
You feel his stare on you and give him your back to face as you focus on your father who stands tapping his wine glass with a knife.
Like always your father begins to give a speech. You loved listening to him speak, even if he was lecturing you, he always managed to engrain some life lesson into your memory.
"Welcome, family and friends. I want to first start off by saying I appreciate you all for coming; if you're here today, you're either family or a friend, so in the end, that makes you all family. No matter when or how I met you, you have touched a special place in my heart, and you've made this life of mine beautiful. We've all become connected somewhere along the line, and now, hopefully, we're stuck with each other for the rest of our lives. As each year goes on and I grow older with it, I am reminded of just how meaningful it is to carry relationships on with you from one year to the next. We've done that." He laughs.
"Most of us have been in each other's lives since the beginning, Anthony has been my best friend since we were nine." He chuckled tilting his glass at Lewis' dad. Anthony raises his own right back at him.
"We've done everything together, damn near walked through each part of our lives together. He had a son, and months later, I had my daughter. Bam!" he laughs, and the table laughs with him. You smile at the mention of your father and his best friend; they were truly a pair like no other.
"Our friendship continues on through our children; we pass on our camaraderie; through our kids, we get more kids." He motions around to your friends. "And our family is even bigger. I've got my family, I've got my wife's family, Anthony's family, our children's family, and we're all now family. We've got each other for life! We're proof of that; we stick together and treat each other right, and if we don't, we always find our way back together again and start over because that's what a family does. Every year, you guys show up for me, and I show up for you. And I can't think of a better way to spend my birthday than with you. Life is beautiful and even more beautiful when you're spending it with the right people. So I thank you for being the right people."
There are no dry eyes after his speech. You reach over to hug him when he sits, pressing your lips to his cheek. "I love you, Dad."
Chatter emerges as everyone marvels at your dad's words. To your left, Lewis is quite emotional. His dad's arm comes up to pull his son into his side, and for the first time today, you watch him with no shame. He looks like a kid again in his dad's arms as he gets emotional, and your heart breaks.
It's not in your character to be mean to Lewis. You know this, which is why you haven't even bothered being a bitch to him, even though a part of you desperately craves to hurt his feelings like yours has been for the last two months. You pull your phone from your purse, and before you unlock it, his reflection glares at you from your blank screen. He isn't facing you but staring blankly ahead, and your resolve crumbles slightly.
He looks like little Lew, face set in a frown and tuned out to the world around him. You think back to all of the times he'd get into his own head, bothered about why the other kids didn't talk to him and why they were nasty to him when they did. How many times he's nestled into you the same way when he felt his heart take a hit.
He's always been a softie. Wearing his heart on his sleeve, it was one of the things you admired about him so much. His ability to let people see him fully. You were never good at that. If you were, you could gaurantee that you and Lewis wouldn't even be in this situation to begin with.
You are sure that you can hear your heart beating rapidly as you reach down and grasp onto his hand. You pretend to scroll mindlessly through your phone when you hear his breath hitch. Lewis struggles to keep his resolve as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He could cry again right now.
Your dad was right; he'd always been right. You think back to the times when you were younger when you would tell him why you and Lewis were sitting so far apart.
"Baby," he would lift your head with a gentle smile, "You know how many times Anthony got on my damn nerves or we had a quarrel, even with your mother. Just have to talk it out, right? That's the kind of friendship you don't let slip away, no matter what. And if he's mad at you, you fight for him. If you're mad at him, you fight for him. Don't ever let something ruin it when you could fix it before it gets bad."
When the food comes out, your stomach flips, sushi lines the table, and your insides feel like they're being shaken. You snatch your hand from Lewis' and toss it over your mouth as the fish is placed in front of you.
"Baby, you love sushi." Your dad says, pushing your plate away from you.
"I don't know what-" You don't finish your sentence rushing away from the table in a put together manner, you hurry to the other side of the boat where you make it just in time to empty your stomach. Nothing comes out as you dry heave over the water. A hand comes to rub at your back and your hair is being held back.
"Hey, you okay?" It's Lewis and his tone is full of concern as his hand constanly moves in caring circles.
You jump away from his comforting hands, throwing a glare in his direction.
"What do you want?" you hiss, preparing to step down from the altitude of the railing.
He holds out his hand ready to help you down and you almost reach for it before huffing and turning baack around folding your arms over the railing. If the sushi wasn't going to have you throwing up Lewis prescence surly would. You felt overwhelmed as he speaks up from behind you.
"Wow."
"Wow, what, Lewis?"
"So I'm Lewis now?"
"Is that not your name?" You snap back.
You feel his body heat behind you, this time closer.
"Not to you, you know that though."
"Nicknames are for friends."
"Shut up." He smacks his teeth.
"No!" you argue, turning around your chest bumps into his, "You shut up!"
you both childishly bicker back and forth.
“What are you being mean to me for, huh? Don't say that."
"I've got a right to be mean to you."
"I don't got time for your nasty ass attitude right now." He says.
"Good. The fuck." you ramble, turning around, "nobody asked you to follow me."
"I followed you because you're still my best friend, stubborn ass."
"Couldn't tell." You rebutted.
"See, I'm trying to talk to you, y/n. Why say something like that? Stop acting like-." He groans.
"Like what, like a bitch?" You look at him over your shoulder, watching his face drop. "That's what I thought."
"I wasn't about to call you a bitch."
Yeah, again, you think.
You stand in silence for a while, listening to the sound of the water sloshing against the boat.
"Your dad has a knick for speeches." He announces, "Always targeting us, huh?"
"That's my dad for you."
"I-, you're still my best friend, that will never change. No matter how long we go without talking to each other."
"I know." It comes out as a sigh and you let out a groan, dropping your head into your folded arms.
"Why didn't you call me?" You ask, "I waited for you to call."
"I was scared, I knew I fucked up, and I think us having sex created a weird dynamic with it. I kinda felt like a booty call or something, I don't know; you trying to leave triggered something in me, made me feel like it wasn't..."
He lets out a sigh, and you know he has that hard thinking face on. "meaningful what we did together." He finally concludes.
"I thought that's what you would've wanted, I'm sorry."
"For other people, yes. But not my best friend."
And there are those two words again, like two blades slicing you in half, best friend, that's all you'd ever be.
Lewis was your best friend, nothing less, nothing more. This is all it'd ever be, and that thought alone, although valid, had you knuckling at your eyes.
"You okay, bunny?"
You can't help the sad smile that appears or the way your heart flutters at the nickname; no matter the situation, you'll always be his bunny.
You slump back against his chest as you step back from the railing. "I'm fucking dying," you whine, and he laughs at your dramatics.
"You're not dying, love." He chuckles. He stands flush behind you, one arm coming around to dangle off your shoulder, the other holding your hand at your side. "How are you going to tell me?" You huff, and it seems as if nothing ever happened between you two as he turns you around and holds you close; he throws both of his arms over your shoulder, wrapping you into his tight embrace, and your face is crammed in his neck, breathing in his scent.
And in that moment, you both could've sworn fireworks erupt in the sky as your hearts beat against each other's chest. It feels like the missing piece in your lives from the last two months has been returned, and the machine is running excellently.
"Because I know you, what's wrong, huh? Got a tummy ache." He coos. And his soft, caring tone has your stomach doing flips.
You don't know how long you stand there in his embrace before you finally wrap your arms around his torso.
"I'm still mad at you." You declare.
"I know."
"I still want an apology."
"I'm sorry."
You feel your nausea ease away as you sway to the beat of his heart against your chest.
This is the first moment of relief Lewis has felt in two months, his heart is not in a panicked state and his mind is even better off.
"I'm sorry for calling you an idiot. It's been bothering me since I said it." You announce, "I don't think you're an idiot. I still think you're the smartest person in the world."
Your eyes water as you apologize, and Lewis hears the sniffle you let out. You remember how much it hurt your heart to see Lewis struggle to catch on in school as a kid, the words the teachers would spit at him, and how he'd let it get to him. You never wanted to make him feel the same way.
"I don't want you to think of me like the rest of them."
Lewis grasps your shoulders, inching you away softly, "I'd never look at you that way," he declares. "I was being an idiot, I know how you meant it, bunny. I should be apologizing for what I said to you. I don't think you were being a bitch; I've never in my life thought about you that way or even remotely considered calling you out of your name. I was just mad."
His hands come up to cup your face, and his thumbs swipe away the wetness underneath your eyes. He sighs, pulling you back into him. "I don't ever wanna not talk to you again, fucked me up."
"But you never called me."
"Didn't think you wanted me to, didn't know what to do, you'd never been that mad at me before, was scared." He admitted.
"I thought you were finally done with me."
"Never that."
"Are we okay?" You examine.
"We're always going to be more than okay. It feels right with me still, yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Okay then, we're back like it never happened." He assured.
And he thinks he can stay like this forever, you in his arms as the sunsets on the boat. He can't think of anything more peaceful than watching the sky change colors and the warm hues making your skin glow in the softest way as he revels in the comfort of your warm body and beating heart.
He wants to unleash his feelings right then and there, "I love you."
"I love you more."
You both speak honestly, wishing that the other would return the same affection. Your parents watch on from above.
"Wouldn't know if it hit them over the head." Your mom shakes her head sipping her wine.
"So in their face." Anthony exhales, throwing his hand up, "Mhmm, mhm, mhm."
"Those are our kids, damn idiots." Your dad finishes, but unlike his counterparts, he wears a knowing smile on his face.
-
"There are a few things we need to clarify before we move on from this." You announce before you rejoin your family and friends.
"What's that?"
"That was a one-time thing for the sake of our friendship; no more sex, no more mentioning it; it never happened."
Lewis freezes in his spot, his arm falling from your shoulder as you take another step. You, too, freeze, turning around to take him in.
He is standing, his eyes furrowed like he's in deep thought.
That would be an easy rule for him to follow if he wasn't struggling as you speak to think about anything other than you every day and how great you felt around him.
"What?" You question.
"I-" he coughs, "I can do that."
"Don't make it weird." You warn, eyeing him.
"Was the best sex I've ever had in my life, though." He admits with a smirk. You push him away as he tries to wrap his arm around you again.
"Goodbye, Lewis." You laughed, walking ahead of him.
He happily stays behind you, watching the way your bottom moves in the dress, and once again, he feels the same burning desire. He could get by without mentioning it if you wanted, but he was absolutely and completely sure you ruined him for anyone else.
Ever since he could remember, his passionate moments never ensued without you flickering through his mind at least once to jump-start him. But actually having you, God he was sure he'd never see another woman again.
As you rejoin everyone else at the front of the boat, you once again see everyone spread out, and you realize just how long you'd been marveling at Lewis' presence as you notice the appearance of the moon.
You gasp as you see a serving bowl full of mango calling your name as you pass by the treat table. You pick it up with ease, stuffing your mouth as you approach your friends who, like always, have banded together in their own little world.
You make eye contact with Whitney, who is looking at you in pure wonder. You shoot her your own look of inquisition. When you take the empty seat beside her, she is still eyeing you like you have two heads.
"Girl, what?" you whisper, your mouth full of mango.
She shakes her head at you, turning and muttering under her breath. You slap her bare thigh, "what?" you whisper shout.
"We'll talk about it later." She declares, throwing back two shots back to back.
"Whit," you whine, "you know I hate when you do that."
"Yeah, but trust me, later is better."
You sigh, turning away from her and getting back to eating your fruit as Lewis approaches the group and takes the seat beside Mori. "Someone’s happy." Miles teases.
You look up at him, and sure enough, there is a shit-eating grin covering his face. "More than happy."
Whit is still mumbling to herself as you stare back at Lewis, when you look at her she is digging through her bag, "No, there's just now way."
-
Sure enough, as soon as you make your way back to the villa, Whitney is dragging you away from the rest of the group and into your bedroom. Lewis shoots you a questioning look as she yanks you from your seat. You can only shrug at him as you trip over your own two feet.
She opens the door to your connecting bathroom, waving her arms for you to enter dramatically after you just stand there and stare at her.
"Ouu, girl." You warn, walking past her, "I need you to start using some words."
When you step foot into the bathroom, she pushes something into your palm.
You angle your head down, realizing that what lies in your hand is a pregnancy test. You throw it at her in shock. "Eww bitch."
"It's not used, dummy." Whit catches it.
You gasp, reaching for her hands, "Oh my god! Are you pregnant?" You whisper shout, excitement seeping through.
"No!" She shouts back in a whisper closing your bathroom door. Your hands are cupped in front of your chest like an exicited child. She turns to face you again only this time she's adorning the most serious look she's ever given you.
"I think you are, though."
Your hands drop down to your sides, one going to your hip that pokes out as you scoff.
"Whit." It's all you say.
"Y/n. Please just take it, ease my mind."
"What even makes you think I could be pregant whit." You huff pulling the stick from her waiting hand.
She sits on the side of the bathtub as you lift your dress and plop down onto the toilet.
"You've been feeling out of it for a while; at first, I thought it was the heat, but you've been having nausea and headaches long before this trip. The smell of alcohol makes you sick, and you're a fucking alcoholic, c'mon now-"
"I am not a fucking alcoholic-"
"The sushi! You fucking love sushi. Out of everything to eat, an entire fucking serving bowl of mangoes, so many fucking mangoes, Y/n!"
As she continues, you begin to feel nerves bubble in your gut as you tinkle onto the test.
Your heart drops to your ass as you put the pieces together.
You haven't had a period in two months, which didn't raise any alarms before; irregularity was common for you. But now that you think about it, you have been unusually sick in the mornings and around certain foods and smells. You have been craving some things more than usual, and your scale shows a tiny bit of weight gain.
Two months ago you had sex with Lewis. With no condom, and he came inside of you. He most definitely fucked his cum back into you. The memory has you clutching your chest with a gasp that made Whit reach out to catch you just in case you toppled over.
"Oh my fucking god." you gasp, pulling the stick from beneath you and tossing it onto the sink. You wipe yourself and then stand to wash your hands.
"Oh fuck." you panic, and your hands are coming up to grasp your head.
"On the bright side, if it's positive, you're a mommy. You've always wanted to be a mom!" Whit cheers softly.
You turn to her with quickness. "Yes, Whit! When I'm fucking married and settled down, not when I fucking-"
The alarm tone from Whit's phone has you shutting up mid-sentence.
"I set the alarm when you peed," she whispered meekly.
She motions for you to pick up the test, and you wanna tell her to get out when you see the excitement covering her face.
You reach behind you, hand tapping blindly against the counter until the stick is in your hand.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose.
When you open your eyes, you see the result clear as day, which has you clutching your pearls.
"I'm going to pass out, I can't breathe."
"Let me see!" Whit all but shouts, jumping up, but you're already reaching for the door handle.
"Where are you going?" She shrieks as you swing the door open, leaving her behind.
"I need to tell Lewis."
"Oh boo," she pouts, "I understand he's your best friend and all, but at least tell me first, I'm the one who brought the test."
You turn to her with watery eyes and a look that tells her all she needs to know.
"Lewis is the baby's father?" She whisper shouts, jumping back like you've thrown cold water in her face.
"What the fuck? When did you sleep with fucking Lewis?" She ponders aloud. "Oh my god, is this why you two haven't been you two?"
"Whit," you groan. "I promise, I don't have the mental capacity to unpack all of this with you right now. There's a fucking baby growing inside of me, my best friend's baby and I don't know what to do with myself."
"Yeah," she nods sympathetically, "I'm sorry, yeah. You talk to Lewis and when you're ready I'll be here for you to lean on." She pulls you into a hig before grasping you by the shoulders.
"Whatever you decide just remeber it's your choice, okay? You call the shots Y/n. You know I'll support you either way, and you know Lewis, he'll understand."
You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with the back of your palm.
"Get yourself together, mama, I'm going to send him in, okay?"
You nod and rush over to your closet. You pull a pair of sweats on and then pull off your dress and toss on an oversized hoodie.
There is a knock on your door before it gently creaks open. Lewis pokes his head through with a gentle smile.
"Hey, everything okay? Whit told me to meet you in here, I didn't know if she wanted to strangle me or hug me, but she said it was urgent."
You shove the pregnancy test into the pocket of your hoodie, stepping out of the closet.
He enters the room, gently closing the door. He approaches you with his arms already open, seeing the teary expression.
"Lewis, can you actually sit down for me. I have to talk to you about something."
He's not sure what he expects to come from your mouth, but it wasn't what he heard.
"I'm pregnant. It's yours."
You surely weren't expecting him to look so relieved. "Why are you looking so-"
"Are you sure?"
You scoff, crossing your arms, "Yes, I'm sure it's yours, you dick. I don't sleep around-"
"What, no! Are you positive that you're pregnant?"
"Oh." You halt, and you pull the test from your hoodie, watching as he approaches you. He takes it from your hands, looking at it with sparkling eyes, "Wow."
"Wow?" You question, "Lewis, I'm pregnant with your child. Freak out a little."
"Why," he asks, "Are you freaking out? How do you feel?" His eyes are no longer on the test in his hands but staring intently into yours.
"Yes, I am freaking out, there is a fetus in my womb."
"Yeah, yeah." He breathes. "Whew, talk to me. What do you want?"
"I- I want to." You shake your head, pushing past him to sit on your bed. He follows after kneeling in front of you and placing the test beside you.
"I am with whatever you want, you know that, right?"
"Yes, but."
"But nothing," Lewis states. "If you want to keep our baby, you keep it. I know you've always wanted a family."
"Exactly," you sigh, "a family."
"Bunny, we're already a family. I'll be there you know I will."
"What about everyone else? What will they say?"
"I don't care about other people or what they have to say. I only care about you and what you want."
"I want to keep it, and I understand if it's not something you want. Won't hold it against you; you didn't ask for-"
"You're losing me. I'm not just going to let you raise our kid on your own. I want people to know it's my child."
"Lewis, they're going to-"
"Once again, I don't care what people think."
"Oh my god, I'm going to be prancing around all jolly and happy carrying your child, and when people ask, I'll just say, oh yeah, Lewis and I had very erotic sex, and now I'm carrying his illegitimate child."
"Don't call my child illegitimate. What the fuck?" He smacks his teeth.
"My child," you state, mushing his head back.
His hands reach up and rest on each of your thighs. "Our child."
"Still illegitimate," you sigh. "What if I find a man who'll marry me pregnant? Does that still-"
"I'm the Dad." Lewis asserts, he knows you're joking, but the idea of another man marrying you, let alone claiming his child, has him ready to kill a man who doesn't even exist. Besides, he would marry you in a heartbeat.
This is all too real for you at the moment, and you find yourself letting out another whine, "My job, I have a job, Lew."
"You and I both know that I make more money than I can spend." He assures you, his hands now rubbing up and down your legs.
He looks like an excited puppy waiting at your feet.
"Lew, that's not realistic."
"Why not?" He scoffs.
"Because what if one day you start hating me and them I'm left alone with-"
"That could never happen, bunny, that'll never happen."
"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous. I've never had a baby before."
He laughs, pulling himself up onto the bed beside you and cupping your hands in his. "We'll figure it out together. Gonna be the best parents in the world."
"Our parents are going to die." You laugh.
"Your mom probably overheard the others chatting about how we'd probably end up having a family one day."
"My dad still thinks we're going to marry each other one day. Ew, he's going to know I had sex with you." You cringe.
"Don't say it like you didn't enjoy it." He feigns offense.
"We know who enjoyed it more, Sir."
"I'm not denying it, don't call me that." His arm reaches back and pulls one of your pillows onto his lap.
"You horny fuck." You cackle, watching the sheepish look blanket his expression.
"I can't help it; you're calling me sir; you're carrying my child. That's two kinks in one."
"Lewis!" you shriek, whacking him with your own pillow.
"You do realize having sex has brought a lot of sexual tension to the surface, or is that just me?"
You could talk about things with Lewis that would make other people uncomfortable without there being any problems at all.
"It was very charged." You agree, looking back at him as he leans back, his elbows holding him up.
"Just charged? I gave you my all, Girl." He flicks your head.
"Don't hit me, I'm with child." You joke, and he lets out a genuine laugh, his head falling back. "If I'm being honest, it was the best sex I've ever had, too."
He smirked at you, shrugging his shoulders like it's no big deal. "Yeah, get told that a lot, so."
You snatch the pillow from his lap launching it at his face as you laugh with him, "I bet. I always thought if we were to have kids they'd be best friends like us, now we're having a kid together."
Lewis always hoped that he had kids with you, so in a way this was a dream come true, he was one step closer to having you in every way he wanted. He had an inkling now that the possibility of the two of you being together was becoming more realistic than it'd ever been.
You were agreeing to bring a life into this world with him, and he knows he's said it a million times, but this time he was absolutely sure, there was nothing and he means nothing that could ever make his love for you fade. He'd never stop loving you, if anything this announcement has made his desires increase tenfold.
And he could only hope it'd possibly open your eyes to your own, there was no way a person could speak to another like that if it wasn't real. There was no way you could be so open to bringing a child into this world with him if you didn't treasure him too.
Case in point, Lewis was done waiting on the sidelines.
I luv luv luv y'all.
so here's part two!
I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
#black reader#L#lewis hamilton#formula 1#formula one#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#lewis ham#lewis hamilton imagine
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WHAT DOES YOUR BODY WANT YOU TO KNOW
This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.
I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I don’t change for these readings and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I got but I pull like 20-30 cards each reading and that just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.
PICK A CARD READING
I asked my spirit guides to tell me what your body wants you to know right now. Pick a pile and find out what they had to say!
Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3
PILE 1
You guys seem to be having issues with your posture out of everything right now, perhaps you are on the taller side and have to lean down, or tilt your head down to see others, or perhaps it’s the complete opposite. I am seeing someone who is struggling with back problems, many of the cards in this spread are holding onto something which is attached to the ground, so you may have a walking stick, or constantly struggle with balance due to pain.
A few of you are sat at your computer for too long, you’re leaning over and messing up your posture. Any of you who are working at computers often, or maybe you’re a streamer or something, make sure to take care of your physical health first, and do hand/wrist exercises, as well as stretches.
Your body is telling you to rest, they’re saying to allow yourself to take a moment off and lean against the wall, or sit down and just let yourself be calmed by the weight of your body being lifted off your shoulders.
There could be a possibility that you need to get something checked out at the doctors, I’m seeing dizzy spells? If you get dizzy when you stand up, I would recommend looking into booking an appointment just to get it checked out, perhaps you will find a cure.
PILE 2
You guys seem to be dealing with a lot physically right now, I’m seeing that your body is begging you to take a break lmao, as if they are trying to tell you that a rest is needed for you to be able to achieve what you want to. I’m seeing a lot of issues, eyes, head, hands, and legs are the main ones for you my pile 2. I see that you are aware of these issues, but you are trying your best to ignore it, as if trying to tell yourself that they are not all so severe and that you are being dramatic, but it seems like you’re not.
I think you’re working hard on something now, and it’s taking a toll on your mental well-being, like if you’re an athlete and in need of working out constantly, it may affect you with the level of pain that you have to deal with due to the aftermath. The back of your legs might be in a lot of pain right now, for this I would recommend allowing yourself to rest up.
Cluster headaches or migraines? Try sitting in a completely blacked out room, only thing to light it will be a red light, and sleep. It’ll help, I promise.
There’s certain sounds that you’re listening to, which are messing with your head, your body is asking you to try some white or brown noise, possibly paired with some theta waves for reparation.
Get yourself outside to enjoy something sporty and fun, I’m heading baseball, basketball, tennis.
PILE 3
You guys are in need of some vitamin D, your body is begging you to get outside and enjoy the sun, you’re nearing summer so I would recommend working out to achieve your summer body goals. Your body is currently rejecting someone, if you constantly feel drained around a certain person, or possibly they’re giving you a headache, or making you sick, that person is who we are talking about. Your body would appreciate if you would let this person go, so you can feel the best once again.
I got the word salad… perhaps eat a salad, whether it’s for health or losing weight, your body is recommending eating better and healthier so you can be the most superior version of you.
Some of you could possibly have a leak or something in your house, there’s a chance that mould could be growing somewhere and it’s making you really tired and fatigued, I would 100% recommend looking into it, even if it’s not a physical thing you can see, it might be growing somewhere unexpected.
Some of you are going through something really rough right now, and you need to allow yourself to mourn this situation, but do not do anything to the point that you are crying yourself until you’re physically drained, make sure to give yourself breaks, and time.
#tarot#tarotblr#tarotcommunity#tarot witch#free tarot#tarot reading#tarot cards#pick a card#pick a pile
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PAC Your Vibe As A Couple!
Hey guys welcome back! I’m back with another quick PAC! This reading can be about anyone, FS, Current partner, even crushes, today we’re going to get a quick idea of how you two will vibe together! Remember this is a GENERAL reading so please take what resonates and let the rest roll off to another thank you! Choose a pic and let’s get those vibes!
🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷
Pile 1
This vibe is kinda slow paced, not even kinda it’s exactly the that way. You guys don’t rush shit, you slowly build and work on making your connection better, I feel that when you guys first start to talk and get to know each other one or both of you guys will be talking to other people and that will cause some insecurity and stress but that’s why I’m seeing you guys take it slow, I’m not sensing anything negative. You guys are very cautious with one another and who you let know about your connection, you don’t want just anyone in your business. Very practical and logical you guys talk and look at shit from a realistic approach, one of you actually may have your head in the clouds and the other may be more planted, very much opposites attract energy as your vibe tbh. There are flaws and some shadow points that I’m seeing will be uncovered and triggered in this connection but again you guys don’t rush anything, I even feel if you’re mad at each other you don’t speak or say anything without thinking about it first, this isn’t an impulsive connection, you guys are so cautious especially when it comes to your emotions both of you, working on building your finances as well, I also feel like the confession took a minute to come too, even to the point where it was a stagnant what are we period. The only thing I’m picking up that nigh be a red flag is that either one or both of you may avoid confrontation or is slow to confront issues within the relationship or even address it’s a issue, they may like to just move forward from things but I’m seeing again very slow progress. This seems like a crush too, a slow build up, friends to lovers, but I’m getting that this is a crush. Also I’m seeing one or both of you likes to get in your head and that’s another thing that can cause some issues and problems but the vibe of you two is slow and steady wins the race for sure! Don’t rush into anything in this connection cos it’ll break apart also it’ll make you lose your mind! stay woke folks! I also am getting that there’s leftover pain from a heartbreak that either you or them are stuck in so again that’s the cautiousness and the slow movement just reiterating itself.
💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽
Pile 2
This couple is so cute 🥰! You guys do so much for each other, I’m getting the vibe that one feels really responsible for the other and they take on all the burdens of their counterpart, now that’s not the cute part in my opinion I think that it’s admirable the love that’s shared between the two of you. You just want to take the pain away from each other. I feel like either one or both of you grew up in poverty or without much so you are workaholics, afraid of failure afraid of going broke, but it makes you have victim mentality, scarcity of resources or money terrifies you or them so they just don’t stop and it can lead to burnouts, it can be you two barely talk or see each other, it’s very hard to find the time. I feel like you guys want to help each other take the weight off each other by putting it on yourself. What I do see as a red flag is the scarcity thinking, because it can lead to you or them or both of you feeling like you’re not enough for this connection no matter what soooooooooooooo watch out for that. This pile is make that song by Evanescence come to me. Give unto me. You two will take each other’s suffering away or you want too, this is the I’ll die for you pile. Very deep, very solid, very intense but again with the scarce mentality and that workaholic spirit the relationship can lead to an early ending. Very sacrificial vibes. Ride or die vibes. I will die for you vibes, you two will do anything for each other, even giving each other the clothes off your back. It’s making me think of a IG reel I saw a while back when she says you ever love a 🥷🏼 so much you give him your whole check? That’s the vibes! You will put yourself in the whole for them or vice versa it can even be both but this love here is very intense and it needs to have balance, you two don’t need to kill yourselves to save each other and that will be a lesson that you two will teach each other if you’re willing to listen and do the work.
👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑
Pile 3
Okay okay okay! So here I’m seeing a very nurturing vibe off the top, but it’s again giving me opposite attract vibes like p1 except this here happens to do with emotion. One here is more emotionally open and available than the other. I’m seeing that one of you has more money and success than the other so I’m seeing one of you spoiling the other materially. Also emotionally. This connection is making that song by destiny’s child come to me, cater 2 u. One def worships the Fucc out the other fashoo, I’m hearing the ground you walk on, they would kiss it. I’m seeing that someone here was hurt so their heart is on ice but this relationship makes them fucking melt like butter and they can’t control it or understand it even so as much as they love it they will push it away out of fear or misunderstanding cos you know that saying we all hate what we don’t understand or what we don’t get. One of you guys is a little bratty, I’m seeing temper tantrums but they’re not toxic they’re actually kind of cute Atleast your person will think so or you’ll think that about them. This vibe is all about one or both of you wanting to create stability and happiness together. You two want this to work and go the distance, be careful of idolization of each other I mean it’s okay too but when those flaws come out it can sour the image in your mind of the person you put so high on a pedestal cos I’m seeing that you two definitely will. Just working on understanding each other’s feelings and emotions and giving each other the nurturing space and understanding to fully understand yourselves and your emotions this connection is actually the best pile!
🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢
Pile 4
Okay alrighty! So this pile I feel the vibe is a bit cold here. Not very romantic, not very loving, I’m seeing that not cos there’s no emotion there, but there’s a lot of trauma with one of you and feeling like you’re worthy of love. There’s a mental connection here tho, very strong one. You two are very critical but communicative I think out of all the piles this one has the best communication! This may be a fling to lovers pile where you two know where you stand in the beginning not really wanting a relationship because it’s not worth your energy or time at that point. I’m seeing that you two have deep conversations about life and other deep topics. Very mercurial relationship, I feel like words of affirmations is the love language here. This connection wants a connection but it’s about feeling worthy I’m feeling overall, I think that there’s some deep hurt here but logically messing around with each other seems like the best thing for you two and I know this seems robotic and cold and unfeeling but I’m seeing that it actually works out better that way, I’m hearing warm up to each other so I feel you two will and start to feel more and more worthy and confident that this connection is the long lasting one. I’m getting this is a FS pile for some of you! This relationship is the big one, you’re worthy of love get out of your head and into your heart you did manifest this beautiful relationship so enjoy it because I feel self sabotogery happening. Pushing each other away or shutting down giving the cold shoulder, ghosting, silent treatment I’m seeing those kinds of bullshit movements and that’s the trauma, commuinicate like you both do so well and you’ll be able to slowly overcome this pain together and enjoy this beautiful relationship, cos the vibe is wholesome and family oriented you two may start a family together. It’s that deep this connection is a long term one but only if you want it to be truthfully.
Thank you guys for tuning in again to the madness! I love you and thank you for keeping up with my crazy ass!
#tarot reading#tarotblr#tarot community#psychic#tarot cards#pick a pile#pick a card#pac reading#free tarot reading#fs pick a pile#tarot#tarot witch#love reading#intuitive readings#thementalshawty#love tarot reading#SoundCloud#Spotify
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you're losing me
'how long can we be a sad song' || tom blyth x reader
part two
a/n: i felt angsty and i love this song so i wanted to write something based off of it
you say, "i don't understand, " and i say, "i know you don't"
we thought a cure would come through in time, now i fear it won't
the fights felt as if they were never ending lately. it hadn't always been this way, but that felt like a lifetime ago. the problems had started when tom began filming for tbosas but they had ceased when filming for it wrapped. but your relationship wasn't the same as it was before. now it was time for promotions and the fights had started up once again.
"i don't understand! why do we keep having to have this fight over and over again!" tom shouted. you scoff in disbelief at his outburst. he didn't know why you felt so insecure and jealous? it wasn't like you had told him at least a dozen times before.
"you know what, just go on your tour alone. i don't want to ruin it with our fighting." you resign, taking your already packed suitcase back into the apartment, away from the door. "you should go, the cab's waiting." you tell him quietly, unable to look up from the ground.
he just sighs, "alright, i'll see you in a few weeks." staring at you, waiting for you to look up at him. " have a safe flight," you look up at him, but refuse to meet his eyes. he just thanks you and heads out the door.
remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light
now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time
do I throw out everything we built or keep it?
you sat in the dark room of your shared apartment with tom. you had picked it because of the view of the city lights, but now it just felt cold and desolate, like nobody lived here. in all honesty, it hadn't been lived in for awhile. with tom gone for movie promotions, you hadn't been able to be here alone, opting to stay with a friend instead.
you don't know where to go from here. should you salvage what remained of your relationship with tom? or should you scrap everything and start new?
the latter choice had been seeming more and more appealing as of late. you hadn't heard from tom in days. at first you chalked it up to him being busy and the time difference, but you saw he posted a new croissant review and realized he was ignoring you. where had it all gone wrong?
i'm getting tired even for a phoenix
always risin' from the ashes
mendin' all her gashes
you might just have dealt the final blow
you had made the mistake of watching one of tom's latest interviews with his costar rachel. you watched it because you'd missed him, but now that you'd watched it, you wished you just stayed missing him. you didn't miss the way they looked at each other. it'd been so long since you'd looked at each other like that. your eyes were always filled with rage or tears whenever you saw him lately.
you were just so tired of it all. you contemplated texting him and breaking things off. it'd be a whole lot easier that way. maybe the weight on your chest would be lifted. but a part of you didn't want to let go of him. he'd been your everything once.
stop, you're losin' me
i can't find a pulse
my heart won't start anymore
for you
'cause you're losin' me
"how are you baby?" tom asks, his voice cutting through the silence, breaking you out of your reverie. he managed to find some time to call you while on his press tour. "huh? oh, i'm fine. how are you? how's press tour going?" you ask absentmindedly, hearing you ask about tour sparked a light in tom's eyes. he started rambling about the antics he and his cast mates had been up to.
you smiled fondly hearing him talk, until he mentioned rachel. she'd been a sore spot in your relationship lately. the mere mention of her name left a sour taste in your mouth. the grin on your face immediately swept off.
"it's getting late, i think i'm gonna go to bed. i hope the rest of your tour goes well," you fake a smile, trying to hurry to end the facetime call. "oh, i guess it is late over there. i love you, sleep well.” he bids you a goodnight. "love you," you reply and end the call. you bury yourself in your blankets, tired of the emotional turmoil that was caused by your relationship lately.
every mornin', i glared at you with storms in my eyes
how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'?
i sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick
my face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick
you'd lost the glow your skin once had. it'd became increasingly noticeable to those around you. your makeup artist had to try harder to make it less noticeable on red carpets and photo shoots. but it was all in vain, everyone noticed how you'd looked sickly lately, everyone but tom.
or, if he did, he didn't mention anything about it. "you look great." he complimented as you two climbed into the car that was to take you to the premiere of his film. it had taken your makeup artist a lot longer than usual to do your makeup, having to cover up the blemishes and gray tone of your skin from the lack of care you'd given yourself lately. you’d been opting to lay around in bed, moping.
"thanks," you mutter as the car begins to move. you picked at your nails, something you'd picked up lately to help deal with your nerves. you no longer could have any type of nails, you'd bit them down to nubs lately. but tom didn't seem to have noticed. he didn't seem to notice anything about you lately.
and the air is thick with loss and indecision
i know my pain is such an imposition
now, you're runnin' down the hallway
and you know what they all say
you don't know what you got until it's gone
"stop! where are you going?" shit. you stop dead in your tracks, tom was home early for once. you'd thought he wouldn't back for another day or two. "did you hear me?" he makes his way in front of you. you try avoiding his gaze, but it was difficult when his icy blue eyes stared into your soul.
you tried to formulate the words to tell him it was over. "i'm leaving." you finally managed to say. his concerned eyes turn frantic at your words. "what?" he whispers out, grabbing your hand. "you're leaving? why?" you take a breath, you tried leaving when he was gone because you couldn't face him. "things haven't been the same lately. i think we need a break. i'm going to stay with a friend. i'll come back for the rest of my things later. i think it's best if we don't talk for awhile." you manage out, finally meeting his eyes.
what a mistake. his previously concerned eyes were now filled with sadness. you tried moving past him to your car. he grabs your hand one more time, "can you at least tell me what's wrong?" you sigh hearing this, "i think you know why, tom." is all you answer, dragging your suitcase behind you.
how long could we be a sad song
'til we were too far gone to bring back to life?
i gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy
and all i did was bleed as i tried to be the bravest soldier
fighting in only your army
frontlines , don't you ignore me
it'd been a few weeks since you'd moved out of your shared apartment with tom. you felt relieved when you had finally walked out of the apartment. it had been feeling less like a home and more like a prison lately. you felt stuck in time in there. everyone around you was moving forward their lives, your friends, family and especially tom, but there you were. stuck waiting around for tom to give you the time of day.
you'd spend too long waiting around for your relationship to go back to how it once was. you'd given that relationship your all but got the bare minimum back in return. you should've called time of death on it months ago, but a big part of you wasn't ready to let go. you had spent your best years with him after all.
and i wouldn't marry me either
a pathological people pleaser
who only wanted you to see her
you and tom used to talk about the future all the time. laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and giggling about your thoughts on what the future had in store. you told him about your dream wedding and he told you about how he wanted a cozy home with a big yard for your future children.
but that seemed so far in the past. you suppose he changed his mind. who'd want to marry a person who'd give every piece of themselves for someone who won't even bat an eye at them? you'd given him your all in the last year of your relationship, but had gotten nothing in return. all in an attempt to bring back what you both once had.
and i'm fadin', thinkin'
"do something, babe, say something"
"lose something, babe, risk something"
"choose something, babe, i got nothing
to believe
unless you're choosin' me"
you laid in the makeshift bed of your friend’s studio apartment waiting for tom to reach out. you were aware of what you had told him, but you wanted to see if he truly did care about your relationship.
it hurt to see him happy on set of billy the kid. you followed his castmates and it hurt to see the snippets of him on their stories. he looked so happy and carefree. the exact opposite of how you were feeling and probably looked.
you hoped he was just respecting your wishes of having no contact for a few weeks, but the small voice in the back of your mind was screaming that he didn't care. that he was happier without you, that he was better off now that you were gone.
you're losin' me
stop, you're losin' me
stop, you're losin' me
i can't find a pulse
my heart won't start anymore
a constant buzzing woke you up from your deep sleep. you blindly search for your phone. when you find it, the clock shows that it's exactly 12 in the morning. you hit answer without looking at the contact. "hello?" you answer, your voice raspy from lack of use.
"love? it's me, tom. it's been exactly 6 weeks like you said. can we finally talk?"
#coriolanus snow#tbosas#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tom blyth#tom blyth imagine#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth x you#coriolanus x reader#tom blyth angst
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Johnny Boy
“Let’s go, let’s go. Get the lead out boys!” Major John Egan ordered as he clapped his hands together.
“Excited to see Harding that much, Major?” Ken Lemmings asked rhetorically, parking his jeep.
“More like a certain lieutenant.” Blakey commented, lighting a cigarette. “All I heard on the flight back was [y/n] this and [y/n] that. Almost as if we weren’t staring down the face of Nazi fighters.”
Coming up behind Blakey, Douglass slapped Blakey on the back. “Don’t be too jealous Blakey, maybe Tatty will forgive you for saying her sister is prettier.”
“It was a joke!”
“Jokes are meant to be funny, Ev.” Crosby deadpanned from his place on the ground.
“Get in the truck, boys! This war ain’t gonna stop because of your romantic problems.” John Egan was not known for being a patient man. And at this moment, his patience was as thin as his fort’s wings, which were currently shot to shit thanks to the Luftwaffe.
“You know all about romance, right Major?”
With an eye roll, the Major squared his shoulders ready to yell at his men. However, his irritated expression softened as he watched two figures coming his way.
Noticing the attentive blue eyed gaze across the field, [y/n] smiled as she drew nearer. She had not planned to visit the airfield today. Despite knowing that the 100th Bomb Group would be out flying, she had intended to stay in her office. But when Johnny asked, with a hopeful request and a sweet smile, she knew she couldn’t say no. She seemed to have soft spots for Johns she mused, as a pair of small hands tightened their grip on her right hand.
“She read me a book and colored with me!”
Bucky’s eyebrows raised at the British voice informing him of how he was losing the battle for [y/n]’s attention. Six year old Johnny Baker was as formidable as the Germans, the blonde had met Lieutenant [full name] on his first day moving to base and imprinted on her like any good duckling would.
“And she said that she’ll watch me play footy!”
However, Major John Egan was a flyboy and they were not so easily defeated. Crouching down to be eye-level with rival, the major crossed his arms. “Well, she told me I’m clever, funny and..." With a dramatic pause, he continued, "and handsome.”
Stomping his foot at his competitor, the blonde took on a tone of conceited immaturity. “Well she told me that I give the best hugs!”
“Well,” John mimicked, “She kissed me.” And with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes, Bucky added in a lyrical voice, “On the lips.”
With a gasp and whine of her name, the blonde buried his face into [y/n]’s stomach as her hands patted his back comfortingly .
“Are you really arguing with a child?” She asked sternly, as John stood up. “Again?” She pressed, restraining the grin trying to surface at his easy smile. The times she had found them competing for her affection were becoming too numerous to count. Just last week, she had to kiss him better when he scraped his knee racing Johnny across the blacktop of the airfield. She was thankful he was kind enough to let her kiss his lips instead of his bloodied knee.
“No, I’m not arguing with a child.” John watched Johnny stick his tongue out at him, “He’s arguing with me.” With a chuckle, he mirrored the action back at Johnny.
Alive and as charming and tenacious as ever she reflected, assessing his wellbeing . The weight of the war had become harder to bear on their shared tree branch as more flyboys left and didn’t come back. She hadn’t realized her breath had been stalled in fear of his safety until she felt herself lose it again by his adoring look.
John ran a hand through his hair, enjoying the evaluating look on her face “So where’s my reason?”
“Where’s my souvenir?” She responded, meeting his unwavering gaze. It had become their greeting, a promise of a gift that kept them both grounded.
Removing his head from her stomach, Johnny looked up. A pout sprouted on his lips as the adults seemingly ignored him, focusing instead on making what his big cousin Susie called “googly eyes”. With a tug to her hand, Johnny whined. “[nickname]!”
John watched as [y/n] turned her attention to the baby duck calling her name. The blonde’s hair had become ruffled as feathers from his fight for her attention and John knew like any mama bird she would fix it. However, she wasn’t a duck, she was a different bird. His bird to be exact so the only hair she would be fixing would be his curls. Therefore, before her raised hand could fix the strays, an Army Air Corps Officer cap covered Johnny's head.
Taking advantage of his enemy’s distraction, John’s hand gripped [y/n]’s face and momentarily brushed his lips against hers. While a moment on the lips, it spoke of tenderness, love and promise for more.
“Hey!” Removing the cap from his head, Johnny glared at the taller male who seemed wholly unperturbed.
“What?” The innocence in his smile and tone betrayed the mischief inside. The bashful smile he sent her all but confirmed [y/n]'s suspicions. That he did always love when she ran her hands through his curls. And that he was jealous, even of a child.
“Interrogation, Egan!”
Bucky sighed theatrically at the commanding voice behind him. Though the sigh was a sign of acknowledgement, he made no move to leave. If anything it made him more resolute.
“Jack,” Facing his fellow major, John motioned toward the pair at his side, “The good lieutenant and this fine soldier need a ride back to the HQ.”
Major Jack Kidd could use many adjectives to describe John Egan, however, since becoming Air Exec the most he would offer was 'a royal pain in my ass'. “Now, John!”
Though Kidd didn’t seem to be moved, John pressed on. “We can’t just leave them, Jack.”
Biting her lip, [y/n] attempted to maintain a neutral expression. His baritone voice was as pleasant as ever, but the tone of pleading reminded her of times when he pleaded for other things. Some which he had no shame in doing in front of other people, like a dance or smile, and some that were reserved for just the two of them, like a kiss and other intimate notions.
Turning towards the gentle tug on his sheepskin’s sleeve, John leaned down.
“Can we ride in the truck?” Johnny whispered poorly, allowing those close enough to hear.
“If you look sad you can.” John replied conspiratorially, enjoying the giggle it elicited from [y/n] who’s attention had been off him for far too long.
“Get in the truck, Egan.” Though Kidd offered John a look of utter lack of amusement, he sighed. One day he’ll learn to not wipe John’s ass, Jack promised himself. “You too,” he finished gesturing toward the pair.
Breaking out into a wide smile, John’s hands wrapped around [y/n] and Johnny’s shoulders. Guiding them to the awaiting truck, John pulled himself into the truck bed first. With his attention on Johnny, John offered instructions where to put his feet and hands to safely enter the truck all the while, his hands gently hovering his smaller body to offer assistance if needed.
Unbeknownst, [y/n]’s expression was soft in a way she only ever let it be around John. War was not the time to think of a future full of little feet and miniature giggles, but John Egan was a man who inspired hope.
“Need help, Lieutenant?” A deep baritone voice interrupted her thoughts. Though capable and confident, [y/n] took the calloused hand that was offered to her. Allowing herself to be pulled into the warmth of the sheepskin, she brushed her lips against the corner of his mouth.
“Think Cros can take him?” He whispered, nodding to the navigator currently being interrogated by the Brit.
With a laugh, she guided John by the hand to his rightful place next to her on the truck's bench. Bumping her nose against his, she whispered, “You certainly weren’t.”
John laughed gently and easily as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders before taking her hand in his again. Pulling her as close as they could, he leaned into her ear. Planning to defend himself, the pilot opened his mouth but stopped when a sudden weight dropped on him.
“Johnny!”
Ignoring the scolding tone, the blonde pushed his body weight against Bucky and wedged himself between the pair. “You forgot your hat, Major.” Johnny mocked, throwing his hat at the elder.
“Why you little….”
A/N: Hope you guys enjoy! I appreciate all the positive feedback from my other works!
#john egan x female reader#john egan imagine#john egan x reader#major john egan x reader#masters of the air imagine#masters of the air x reader#mota drabble#bucky egan x reader#mota fanfic#mota x reader
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Things that make Weirdmageddon a top-tier finale:
Every victory and ally the characters gain is essential to pursuing the next victory.
Dipper needed Wendy to reach the bubble, needed to talk down Gideon to reach Mabel, and needed to reconcile with Mabel to do anything. Then they needed to reach the Shack to get Shacktron, needed Shacktron to reach Ford, needed Ford and all their previous character development to build the Zodiac—oops! not enough character development! REVERSAL! But they still pulled out a win from having all four Pineses in the Fearamid, which wouldn't have been possible except as salvage from their previous victories.
It all builds really nicely—it's easy to get your characters running in circles to fit in enough action and/or screentime (see certain Classic Who serials), but that doesn't happen here.
Personal issues and plot problems were interwoven in a way that genuinely made resolving the former a basic step in resolving the latter.
The big problems at the start of the finale were the rift between Dipper and Mabel, the older, deeper rift between Stan and Ford, and... well, the Rift. And Bill. The finale is able to resolve all of these things together because it is, in fact, crucial that the Pineses all be able to work together; they need each other to defeat Bill. This means that, for instance, Mabel and Dipper's reconciliation is the urgent first step on every level, personal and situational (neither of them will accomplish anything until Mabel's free), and that Stan and Ford's reconciliation is a necessary condition for the last step of beating Bill. It's seamless—no one has to take time out of the plot to talk about their feelings, because the plot can only move if their feelings are being addressed.
Even more, the action works in such a way that Stan and Ford have to show character growth to defeat Bill and the way they defeat Bill then results in healing for both of them (Stan gets to be a hero while Ford gets to let go of his hero complex).
Gave time to addressing the big themes and made them structurally important, too.
This ties in to the point above, but... the fact that Dipper and Mabel's conflict (the manifestation of a much longer-running tension of "is it possible to grow up and still be happy? is it possible to be sure we'll stay in a close and healthy relationship, and not lose each other?") is given its full weight. Dipper and Mabel have the conversation they need to convince themselves, each other, and the audience that this ghost has been expelled from their futures. That's big.
And the themes continue consistently throughout the finale! They answer the questions raised by Stan and Ford's estrangement—first through Dipper and Mabel and then repeatedly through the rest of the cast—with consistent reassurance and hope for the future. It's thematically sound. That's not easy to balance with plot progression in a way that makes sense, but like. The plot can only progress to a happy ending if these themes are tested and found to be true.
Plot development and emotional impacts hinged on information the audience already had.
When the finale revealed new information (the zodiac's function, for instance), it was almost always answering specific questions the show had previously raised for fans (what's that zodiac about??). Not always true—the barrier around the town was not foreshadowed—but a very high percentage of the time.
More, the moments with a big emotional punch hinge on us realizing something at the same time as the characters and sharing their reactions to that thing, rather than reacting to their reactions. That sounds clumsy, but you know what I mean—"Grammar, Stanley." Ford pulling out the memory gun. "Get off me, Waddles!" Ford holding out the picture of the Stan O' War. The finale builds on what we already know so strongly that we can react to good or bad events alongside the characters.
(Well, except for the exact moment revealing the twin switch, I guess. We are not having the same emotional reaction as Bill Cipher there. ;P)
A fully satisfying send-off.
After the plot is resolved, and even after the eucatastrophe moment of Stan getting his memory back, we get to stick around and see for sure that everything's okay. The twins turn thirteen. Stan and Ford plan to go sailing. Soos gets the Mystery Shack. Everyone in Gravity Falls is fine. Everyone gets to say goodbye. We end on repeated reassurances that the thing the story most highlighted as crucial but uncertain will, in fact, happen—that they'll stay a family and they'll all be happy.
I'm not saying every story needs to end with a wrap party, but it was the right move for Gravity Falls, and they nailed it.
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Reborn Into BG3: Chapter 9
You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.
Chapter 9: You lose something, but maybe a certain devil can help you out?
Word count: 2K
A/N: Okay, but should we start to focus on one companion for romance??
Your body is warm as you drift between sleeping and waking. It’s like you’re sitting by a fireplace, wrapped in a soft blanket while a winter storm rages outside. Like sleeping in on a Sunday morning with nowhere to be for the day. You could stay there forever, resisting the pull of the waking world with a grimace.
“You took quite the hit,” a deep voice says, “and for a bear no less.”
Right, you were bleeding, concussed. You should really open your eyes to see what’s happening, but they only flutter shut again. There’s a dim light overhead that disturbs your peaceful warmth, and when you turn away from it you feel the cold stone on your cheek.
Stone. Blood. Bear. Your eyes open—slowly despite the shot of fear that courses through your body. After a few blurry blinks you’re able to make out the vague shape of a person's head, then long brown hair that’s partly tied back and braided, and a smile.
“Welcome back,” Halsin says. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to heal you—we had to get the goblins out of the way first.”
“We?” you repeat.
Another face comes into view, the horns on top of Tav’s head nearly poking out one of Halsin’s eyes. The druid backs off to let your companions fuss over you.
Dried blood has crusted on your forehead and cheek. You wipe at it and it begins to flake away with ease; whatever healing magic Halsin used on you has sealed the wound and dried the blood.
Tav moves behind you and slides his hands under your back, giving you a push upright. Almost your full weight is on him until you’re sitting up, still trying to blink away little spots in your vision.
“What happened?” you ask. “Did I win?”
You’re not even sure what you’re asking.
“Against a rock?” Astarion says. “No. Against the worm in your head…that’s another story.”
You take a deep inhale, surveying the faces around you. There’s worry on almost all of them, but something else. More than concern for your repeated blows to the head. It isn’t until you follow Astarion’s gaze to something to your left that you understand.
You jump away, scurrying back just like when you’d found the boar in your tent. There, lying lifelessly on the stone floor, is a mindflayer tadpole. Your stomach lurches as Tav picks it up between two claws then tosses it behind him.
“The tadpoles leave the host when it dies,” Halsin says. “Though what caused it to leave this time, I’m not sure.”
“How did it—what part of me—where did it leave from?” You stand, head shaking. “No, I don’t want to know. I’ve never been so glad to be knocked unconscious.”
You waver on your feet, world spinning. When you hold your hands out to balance yourself you’re lifted off your feet and into the arms of Tav.
“I can walk,” you say, though you don’t know if that’s true. Besides, there is a lot of blood on Tav that can’t be all goblin—he didn’t have to carry you back to camp.
“I shouldn’t have let you leave,” Tav replies. “I’m sorry.”
“I volunteered.” Your fact does little to lighten his mood, his lips still in a firm line. “Besides, if I hadn’t failed my persuasion roll I probably would have been fine.”
Tav only furrows his brow at your words.
“I’m sorry to leave like this but I must return to the grove,” Halsin announces. He doesn’t even have to step towards you to take your hand in his; he never strayed far after healing you. “Please, speak with me there when you can.”
You watch as Halsin places a gentle kiss on your knuckles, unable to do anything else as your face heats. He adds, “And thank you for what you did.”
You stutter a quiet “No problem” just before he transforms into a rat and dashes off.
“Oof!” Karlach places a hand over her heart dramatically. “He’s a charming one, isn’t he?”
You don’t trust your voice to not come out as a squeak so you say nothing. Your attention returns to the tadpole that disappeared into the shadows of the cell. Should you really leave it there? Was it really dead?
“Did it…did it really leave?” you ask. Are they going to leave you behind now that you’re no longer sharing their affliction? You wet your lips.
“We think that may be why Priestess Gut said the Absolute abandoned you,” Gale explains. He’s standing by Astarion, your staff in hand. He gives it a shake. “Though she was none too impressed to see you with this. But that’s something we can discuss when you haven’t been imprisoned by goblins, hit with large rocks, or—fed upon.”
You think you catch a dirty look from Gale to Astarion but it’s too dark and you’re too woozy to tell.
You want to ask, “what now”, even as you stay held close to Tav. But the words don’t come. You know the answer after all this—they’ll definitely kick you out of the camp because so far you’ve done nothing but suck up all their healing supplies. You have plenty of money to survive after all, and Halsin will probably let you stay in the grove for a while. There’s a lump forming in your throat at the thought of going out on your own but what choice do you have?
Maybe Karlach can tell what you’re thinking, or maybe she’s just tired, too. She says, “I think it’s about time we head back yeah?”
You swallow down the lump, nose starting to run as you hold back tears. Pain is coming back to your body, Halsin’s healing wearing off. It did its job of keeping you alive, and now it is your body that must do the rest of the work. You can feel the bruises along your back, hips and sides where the goblins jabbed you, as well as the forming headache. If the headache is from the rocks striking you or the tadpole you don’t know. Either way, you wish that stupid thing had at least stayed in your head when it died.
When Tav starts to walk you let him carry you without complaint, even resting your head against his shoulder, eyes closed. Whatever happened to the goblins and their leaders remains unknown as he carries you out, but it’s silent in the camp.
The group is silent, too. Maybe they’re letting you rest while you can, you think, or maybe they’re trying to decide who gets to be the one to kick you to the curb. You don’t think about it too long.
When you feel fresh non-bloodstained air on your cheeks you open your eyes. You’re across the bridge and heading towards the blighted village already. Every step they take is a step closer to you being completely alone.
The scent of sulphur wafts towards you before you hear a strange sound, like a campfire being started. Almost a poof, but not quite. The group turns quickly to face the source: Raphael. Tav puts you down as gently as possible, ready to draw his weapon when Raphael starts talking.
“Now, now, I’m not here for a fight…” His speech starts and finishes, and then with a snap of his fingers you’re all inside the House of Hope. The scene progresses, Tav denying the devil every chance he gets until the end and they’re transported back to where you were.
Without you.
Raphael, now in his full cambion form is observing you, a hand to his chin.
“You, uh, you missed one,” you tell him.
He quirks one eyebrow. “Did I?”
Raphael moves towards you and with every step you have to tilt your head further back just to look him in the eye. When he’s an arm's length away you step back until your thighs hit the table and he doesn’t stop until he’s nearly on top of you. Your voice is shaky when you speak. “Y-yep. I don’t even have a tadpole so what good would a deal with me be?”
His smile never drops, never reveals what he’s thinking. “You don’t, not anymore. As fascinating as that is, I’m more interested in procuring something else you have.”
You point to yourself. “Me? What do I have?”
Raphael reaches for your face, and with nowhere to go you stay as still as possible. Those claws feel bigger than Halsin’s in his bear form, but Raphael is gentle as he strokes a knuckle along your cheek.
“You, my dear,” he says, almost wistfully, “have more than you know. But you don’t know anything do you? Just a name and a place; Baldur’s Gate.”
You gulp. Even when he takes his hand away you feel the heat of his skin on your cheek. He doesn’t step back, closing you in with his size and outstretched wings. “I guess it’d be silly to ask how you know that.”
His smile grows, entertained by your question. “I could help with that—your memories, your life here.”
The way he stresses the last word gives you a shock like when Priestess Gut had looked at you.
“No, thank you. Now, if you could just send me back—”
“What will you do when they leave you?”
The question halts your words, your very thoughts. You peer up into Raphael’s red eyes. He continues, “Without the tadpole binding you, you’ve no reason to stay. Where will you go? Gold can take you only so far.”
You don’t answer. You don’t have an answer. You ask, “You know who I am?”
“And then some,” he answers.
You swallow your fear, again, and shake your head. He’s a devil! Evil! Your identity isn’t worth your soul, which you’ve come to learn is real and eternal.
“I’ll be here,” Raphael tells you, “I’m sure you know how to find me.”
In a plume of smoke you’re back on the dirt road that travels between the shrine and the village. You stay stock still as if the predator is still in front of you, eyes on the ground. You hear someone call your name, but it isn’t until Tav shakes your shoulders that you can react. “What?”
“Please tell me you didn’t make a deal,” Karlach begs. If she couldn’t burn your skin off you think it would be her shaking you out of your trance.
“No,” you reply. “No. No! Of course not.”
Each of the companions let out a relieved sigh.
“What did he want with you?” Astarion asks. “Not to be rude but without the tadpole…”
You shake your head, the ache inside growing. Stop shaking your head at everything, you think. “He didn’t say.”
“What did he offer?” Gale steps up, brows pinched together as he carefully watches your expression.
“My memories,” you admit. “But I don’t think my memories are worth my soul.”
Gale’s face relaxes at your answer.
“Now there’s a devil at our door,” Astarion complains. “What next? Will we be attacked by a rabid kobold as icing on the cake?”
“All in good time,” Gale answers.
“I’d give you a hug if it wouldn’t burn your skin off,” Karlach says to you.
You smile at her, but it’s weak. You could really use that hug. Raphael’s words had echoed your own thoughts—what happens when you’re left alone, left behind, by these people? They must mistake your silence for fear, because they each give you a reassurance that as long as you don’t make a deal with a devil you’ll be fine. But you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop and feeling terribly sorry for yourself.
You muster up as much energy as possible and put it into stretching your lips into a smile. “We should probably get back to the grove. I’m sure everyone will be happy to hear the goblins aren’t a threat.”
This time you don’t let Tav pick you up, and start walking on your own two feet. You’ll have to get used to it anyway, injured or not, when they move on to the Underdark.
Taglist:
@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat @jeneralmischief @notsaelty @runaway-17 @aoirohi @tinswhimsy @xxgrimripp3rxx @kemonocat-blog @thetiredtoad0-0 @sleepydang @iwannabealocalcryptid
#reborn into bg3#reborn into baldur's gate 3 with no memory and plenty of money#astarion x reader#gale x reader#raphael has entered the fray#reader insert#x reader#is this angsty?
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Hello I was wondering if you had advice on how to continue writing a story I start writing books but can't seem to finish them
Starting Stories But Not Finishing Them
There are a few reasons why you might be struggling to finish the stories you start. We'll count them down, because the biggest one is the most important one...
#5 - You're Getting Distracted
Writer brains get very excited by new ideas. Even when we're in the middle of a story we love and are excited about, we can lose all of our focus and motivation when the right idea comes along. But there are other things that can distract us, too... anything you like to do for fun or relaxation, other projects, school and work stuff, social stuff... anything you might be thinking about or spending time on that isn't your story can derail your forward motion. And sometimes it can't be helped, so you have to do some prioritizing and see where your mental energy and effort needs to be going. If there's nothing more important than your story going on, get your mind back on your story. And if new ideas pop up, write them down in a notebook or an "idea" file to save for later.
Would Rather Be Doing Other Things
#4 - You're Getting Tripped Up on Quality
The more we write, and the more we read, the more we start to realize that what we're writing isn't quite where we want it to be quality-wise, and that can be really discouraging, especially if you feel like your story has to be perfect in the first draft. But the thing to remember is that quality is the result of two things: polishing and practice. Whatever level your writing is at, no amount of polishing is going to get you above that level. Only practice can do that, and practice means starting and finishing as many stories as you can. But... whatever level you're at, your first draft isn't necessarily going to reflect that level of quality because it's a rough draft. This is why we edit and polish. So, focus on finishing the story, then worry about polishing it up. And don't give yourself a hard time because you're not writing at a higher level than you're at.
Concentrate on Quantity at First, Not Quality
#3 - You've Lost Motivation/Inspiration
Sometimes you just lose the spark of inspiration that made you want to write the story in the first place. Maybe you're just bored. Maybe you've forgotten what first excited you about the story. Maybe you're just not in a writing mood. Sometimes, doing exercises to rekindle your interest in the story can help. Try:
Guide: How to Rekindle Your Motivation to Write
Getting Unstuck: Motivation Beyond Mood Boards & Playlists
#2 - You're stuck on Something That Isn't Working
Stories are like a house of cards in that one misplaced “card” can bring the whole thing crashing down. Sometimes you get stuck because an element or event didn’t quite work, and you can feel in your gut that something’s not right, so the wind completely leaves your sails. It's not that there's a problem with the story, it's just that there's a problem with the path it's on. Try going back through what you've already written and look for the element that isn't pulling its weight. Can you identify the moment where the story loses its fizz? Maybe the addition of a character that's not pulling their weight and is dragging the story down. Maybe a subplot that is cluttering up the story or drawing attention away from the main plot. Or maybe a scene (or several) that don't really add to the story. If you can figure out what's draining your story's energy, you can usually start writing forward again.
#1 - You Don't Know Where Your Story is Going
This is the BIG ONE. This is the one that is the culprit 99% of the time for newer writers, and the reason it happens is because newer writers are less familiar with plot and story structure. Your story's plot is the sequence of events that makes up the narrative, and this sequence of events is driven by a conflict. That conflict could be an external conflict (like having to defeat an evil sorceress... aka plot-driven), an internal conflict (like being conflicted between what you want and what someone else wants for you... aka character-driven), or a combination of both. Your story's structure is the order and placement of your story's events.
The type of story you're telling and the way you want to tell it will decide what kind of plot points fill out this framework. The rising action will be kicked off by a catalyst/inciting incident. The climax may be preceded by a dark moment. The denouement may be followed by a final image. It's up to you to plot that out.
Basic Story Structure
Plot Driven vs Character Driven Stories
Understanding Goals and Conflict
Fleshing Out Plot Ideas
Creating a Detailed Story Outline
*** However, if you do choose to plot out your story using a known story structure guide, like Save the Cat! or the Snowflake Method, just remember you don't have to stick to it exactly. Always do what works best for your story.
Also: even accomplished writers who long ago mastered plot and story structure can still struggle with knowing where their story is going. That's because stories can change dramatically as you write them, and sometimes you get to the middle of your story and realize it's not going where you thought it was. That can lead to a "back to square one" moment that can be frustrating for any writer, but sitting down to do a little bit of plotting almost always helps you get back on track.
I hope this helps!
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so, Batman #147… rambling about the difference in how Zdarsky portrays the two current Robins
this is a fantastic run for Tim, and very much written like a return to form of what plenty consider the best dynamic duo, but even more so "the best Robin". once Damian's introduced in this run, Zdarsky really makes sure you still know that lol
1. "We don't need anyone else" VS "I need my family"
#147 clearly exemplifies the contrast, so i'll go through it first. Damian, having fallen for Zurr's lie and accepted him as the real Bruce, goes so far as to say in the very first page "We don't need anyone else." it's cold colors, machinery, and hollow declarations of "father and son" for these two.
towards the ending, Tim has deduced where the real Bruce is hiding and brings him food expecting Bruce's knack for self-neglect. it's all warmth, sunshine, and mutual understanding - also a cute back and forth of "Batman and Robin" between them. on top of this, where Damian isolates Batman & Robin from family, Tim is the one to remind Bruce about "helping each other." Bruce heartily agrees with "I need my family" for a weighty end.
along with this parallel, from #138 Tim makes it clear that even in opposition, he's only ever trying to help Bruce. Damian was still on the wrong side with Zurr-induced-Bruce here at the time too 😭
2. Tim's independence as both a hero and partner
Tim is written as the ideal Robin to Bruce's Batman, and has made Robin its own independent hero on equal footing rather than a sidekick - it's made in statements by both Tim and Bruce, and through the entire narrative. he takes initiative and tries to foresee what would ultimately help Bruce. beyond being great partners, there's many bits showing their emotional connection ("i'm scared of being lost, but i'm more scared of losing you, Bruce" hit me like a bag of bricks). tbh this almost could be a Batman and Robin run lol
added the first panel from #126 of Tim declaring he's his own hero outside of Bruce, proven plenty especially in his backups in #131-134!! the other panels are a few highlights from #128, #130, and #135 of the partnership between Tim and Bruce
granted it's Zurr, but Damian is mostly seen following orders and given pensive looking panels when there's something concerning. While Tim continued to represent Batman's ideals during his own solo quest to find Bruce, Damian doesn't question or take action against "Bruce's" sudden shift in ethics
Batman #134 Backup - Tim showing support toward Toyman VS Batman #146 - Zurr and Damian confront Harley as she pleads about her change of heart
another kiinda parallel in #147 is Bruce acknowledging Tim's hard work to become Robin compared to Damian who's out here going Batman and Robin/Father and Son. i don't think it's an intended parallel but just the state of continuing to show Tim in a better light - Tim put in the effort "to become the second-best Robin" while Damian is Robin because..."son." supposedly less effort on his part too, because LOA.
second pic is from Batman/Catwoman The Gotham War: Scorched Earth, felt fitting to add since Tim mentions needing to "know everything" in both. and the humble brag. which ofc Tim believes Dick is the best!! but also. jic we didn't know Tim is the best current Robin sdfgh
3. Damian's blind loyalty as "Bruce's son"
there's a weight to the Robin title when regarding Tim, whereas Damian's "Robin" role is excess and counterintuitive. he's delegated to desperate sidekick to Bruce, as well as becoming an obstacle to the family. being Robin only seems significant to Damian in how it ties himself to his father, and his single Robin quality is a loyalty that's been written to an extreme fault. the only positive angle i could see this in is Zdarsky aiming to put Damian in a sympathetic light in how far Damian was willing to fall to stay by his father's side, hence, fooled by that nightmare story/confession. the problem with this is that we have not seen a single emotional connection between the two in this run, so why should we care about that relationship.
also, Damian constantly bringing up his position as Bruce's son just makes him look entitled? since Bruce rightfully expressed his claim of having the others as his sons too (with the unfortunate exclusion of his daughter)! so it's like a "lol you're not that special" vibe when looking at it from the outside?? ykw concerning #138, Damian saying "You're the one trying to destroy my father" also could have been in contrast to Tim saying "We'll help our dad" at the end.
Zdarsky seems to believe the only meaningful part of Damian being Robin is he's the son of Bruce, and not a single nod to any noble aspect Damian's achieved beyond that. we're constantly reminded of Tim's greatest hits as Robin, from taking on the mantle to pull Bruce out of darkness (#135, #138), mastermind a whole takedown (Gotham War: Scorched Earth), and always being on the same wavelength with Bruce etc. the entire run sings Tim's praise, and it's deserved!! my problem is how it's in stark contrast to Damian's portrayal of being the other Robin who's only special because he believes he's the greatest son and wants to be at Bruce's side.
so all this to say, if your fav is Tim YOU'RE EATING WELL!! personally as a chronic enjoyer of things, this has been an entertaining run! as a chronic enjoyer of Damian, it's definitely not for many of his fans at this point in time.
i did like this part!! his grin!!
#rambling#i'm not v good explaining things besides yelling about how cute Damian is but hopefully the observations are clear enough#instead of an essay i think i should pull up a conspiracy board of all the panels/lines and post it notes of my points#bc writing this has made me go cross eyed trying to verbalize parallels and differences 😭#like. Tim's Robin moments are stunners!! kickass or emotional scenes with or without Bruce!!#then Damian acts like everyone is beneath him and Bruce...when they've barely had any meaningful dialogue with eo#gave Zdarsky the benefit of doubt that Damian was pulling something similar to Morgan Ducard#but ofc that would mean he actually cared about any of Damian’s comics outside of his intro with Morrison 😭#i don't think Zdarsky hates Damian exactly just that he's a convenient character to use as a parallel since there's two Robins ALTHOUGH#thinking of the Batman sketch by Jorge or Zdarsky?? ITS A BLUR at NYCC and Zdarsky added a word bubble with 'Tim is the Best Robin' or smth#he wants to remind ppl of that every so often. like in the batman run. i wouldn't mind it if he wasn't putting my fav against that#especially when they're sharing the title but alas!#this run could be a great sendoff to Tim's Robin era and gaining a new title... or this is all Zdarsky fanboy lol which is fair#ANYWAY BACK TO WHIMSY!! TO DILLY DALLYING AND SHILLY SHALLYING!!
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Alright, I'll bite. (Sparked by this post) I'm gonna preface this with some context:
First off: I'm Black in case you're unaware
Huxley is my favorite speaker. Full stop. You ask me to choose, it’ll always be him.
Likewise, you ask for my favorite listeners, I will say Starlight and Darlin'. (I'll save my Starlight rant for another day)
My designs for both Huxley and Darlin are Black.
With this in mind, I want to be clear from the jump: I don’t have an inherent problem with these headcanons. If I did, I wouldn’t have chosen then myself. That said, I have noticed that Hux and Darlin are, more often than not, the characters that get headcanoned as POC (specifically Black) in design rosters. In some cases, they are the only POC designs present. Why is that?
Furthermore, the more often I notice this pattern so to speak, the more I sit and think about why those headcanons are so popular. I find my answer when I think about the characters I see headcanoned as white most often. Tell me why it’s "practically canon" for Lasko to be pale with light/white hair. Tell me why white Sam "just makes sense". Why? Because Lasko's a nerdy ball of nerves that stumbles over his words? Because Sam’s a sweet Southern man at heart? Those are not inherently white attributes.
Except they're treated as such. They go virtually unchallenged because they're so widely accepted by fandom. People see these personalities and character details and come up with their vision. So, let's apply that to Huxley and Darlin, shall we?
Huxley: Athlete. Canonically implied to be big, as indicated by statements made by him and other members of the DAMN crew. Classified as a himbo with parallels in Imperium highlighting how some will view him as stupid. Overall chill vibe.
Darlin: Reckless with their safety. Known to lash out/lose control of their emotions when they’re not actively hiding them. Gets injured often because they’re too stubborn to run from trouble. An overall intense demeanor that makes them difficult to approach (at least at first).
Explain to me why this screams Black to so many people. Is it because Huxley's a dumb jock who you imagine gets stoned all the time? Oh, is it perhaps because Darlin is just so aggressive compared to your Golden Retriever-coded Asher, needing to be calmed down by everyone around them? And here's the thing: I can already imagine people saying, "That's not why I made them Black". Then explain why it "just makes sense" for them to Black. Why them out of a sea of characters? Make it make sense.
Now let me make this clear as well: I'm not expecting every headcanon to have elaborate thought behind it. For one, I get that some people take a more casual approach with designs and such. Not every choice has to have a reason or justification behind it. But when literally 95% of the Huxley designs I see are Black and half of y'all don't even know what a fucking durag is? Saying it leaves a bad taste in my mouth is putting it lightly.
You know what I wish I saw more of? Black Huxleys and Darlins with attached nuance.
Give me a Black Darlin who struggles to articulate how they feel with the people in their lives because they haven't been readily given the language to do so. You want to pair a Black Darlin with a White Sam? Why not talk about how POC have an insanely difficult time getting support from the medical system so not only does it explain why Darlin is so resistant to go to healers, but also gives an extra weight to the fact that Sam was their absolute last resort when injured? Give me a Black Darlin who has been taught their entire life that no one will have their back, that they need to learn how to depend on themself alone, and that's the reason why they struggle to feel like the pack would've cared when the Quinn shit went on.
You wanna talk Black Huxleys? Let's touch on how he's learned to control his emotions/anger because he knows how people will take it if it comes from someone who looks like him. Talk about how his moms teaching him not to use violence speaks to a deeper desire for him not to be viewed as a threat because they fear for his life otherwise. In one of his BAs, he mentions how a lot of people used to sleep with him/flirt with him solely because of his body and he could tell. Do you know how often black men are sexualized and fetishized? Why not talk about it through him? I see people explore that concept through Gavin constantly, where's the energy for Huxley? You wanna make him Black so bad, why not actually put some thought behind it? Because right now, it seems like he gets the "luxury" of being the token Black guy in the DAMN friend group at best.
I know a lot of people are probably going to dismiss this post. I am already anticipating that as I write this. But I'm so tired of pretending like this shit doesn't get to me. Because it does. I've got no intentions of leaving this fandom because I have met so many amazing people and adore Erik's content immensely. But what I am going to do is talk about the widespread normalization of attributing certain personality traits to certain racial groups. Because the non-white people in this fandom deserve better than that.
#redacted audio#redacted asmr#This doesn't stop with Hux and Darlin btw /neg#'Cause I could talk about the way y'all handle Gavin Damien and David too#And do not get me started on the vampires#I know to a lot of people this isn't that deep#But as someone who has watched POC creators and designs be overlooked time and time again?#I can't force anyone to do anything#But I can call it like I see it
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Ike/Soren Meta: The Little Things
In (belated) honor of the IkeSoren Week Encore prompt for canon scenes, I wanted to highlight some of my favorite less obvious interactions. These are moments outside their supports/base convos/death quotes/endings that nonetheless feel personal or significant. Some even require variables like other units dying. This isn’t an exhaustive list, but I sure did have a lot of thoughts on it all, so this post is very long.
First up: moments in early PoR that establish their initial dynamic and characterization.
Ch 4
If Shinon is alive (Normal or Easy mode)
Shinon: “All right, Ike. Let’s see how you handle the role of captain. Well? What are your orders, boy? We’ll do what you say, so long as you hurry up and spit it out!”
Ike: “I know, I know! I’m thinking! Give me a moment, will you, Shinon?”
Shinon: “Bah. Useless! We’d be better led with Mist than this soft, untested whelp.”
Ike: “Let’s see…We’re in the middle of the road, and there’s not much cover. Soren and Rhys are vulnerable, so we have to protect them from enemy attacks…Right?”
Soren: “That’s a sound strategy, Ike. I can attack from behind your defenses. Good thinking.”
Ike: “Do you mean that? Um…all right! Let’s do that then.”
This is obviously meant as a hint to new players, but it’s also introducing the team dynamics when Ike is put in charge for the first time. Shinon is clearly derisive, which makes it stand out more that Soren jumps to compliment Ike, especially when he himself is usually more negative. Ike in turn seems surprised and happy to receive a compliment from him. Shortly before this, we saw Ike doubting why his father would put him in charge and not feeling up to the task, and later in the game we’ll see him expressing how much he appreciates Soren’s bluntness and objectivity because it means he can trust his word. So, Soren’s encouragement in this moment clearly has weight.
Plus, it’s just cute that this sets up the idea of Ike as a tank to Soren, since that plays out in both the plot and gameplay.
I also think it’s neat how this changes if only Ike and Soren are in this part:
If Rhys and Shinon are dead (Hard mode)
Soren: “Ike, do you have any ideas on how you want to approach this fight?”
Ike: “Let’s see…We’re in the middle of the road, and there’s not much cover. You’re vulnerable, so I have to be sure you’re protected from enemy attacks, right?”
Soren: “Right. Er…sorry for the trouble…but I appreciate the consideration.”
Ike: “Sure. All right, let’s do that then.”
Soren is the only squishy mage Ike is talking about protecting, making his response more sheepish. Throughout the game, we see Soren worry about being a burden to Ike, so the idea of Ike having to protect him specifically puts him in a different headspace. Meanwhile, Ike doesn’t turn into a puppy here because Soren didn’t compliment him.
If Soren is forced to retreat in this chapter, this happens after the battle:
Soren: “…Forgive me. I was nothing more than a hindrance.”
Ike: “Don’t worry about it. Your health is more important. How bad is the wound?”
Soren: “…”
Ike: “That bad? Well then, from now on, I want you to be an intelligence officer.”
Soren: “What? Are you serious?”
Ike: “Are you so opposed to the idea?”
Soren: “Of course not! I thought…I…I assumed I would be…let go…”
Ike: “Don’t be stupid. An intelligence officer assists with strategy and planning, right? There’s no combat of any kind. There shouldn’t be any problems. I’m sure the commander will approve of the idea.”
Soren: “…Th-thank you. I’ll try to bring honor to the position.”
Speaking of Soren being afraid of being a burden, this is the first chance for the player to see a core element of his character, which is how concerned he is with being useful. This is far before he has learned to trust that he will always have a place at Ike’s side. He joined the company to be with Ike and attain security, so the fact that he expects to lose all of that after being hurt is so sad, but also makes sense given his past and how he’s only been desired for his abilities. Of course, Ike doesn’t realize any of this–he only wants Soren to be safe and stay with him. This is mirrored beautifully in Soren’s Forging Bonds in FEH, where he wonders why his younger self would be summoned when he isn’t useful, and Ike theorizes that it’s more about his younger self’s well-being than his abilities.
Another thing of interest here is that Soren, despite now being referenced constantly as the Greil Mercenaries’ tactician, didn’t actually start out with that job title. At the start of the game, he was their staff officer who was still in training with a different mercenary group. Over the course of the games, especially RD, he grows into his role as a respected strategist (and possibly a legendary one, if Cipher and his other game cameos are to be believed). But here, we see that even in the beginning of PoR, Ike already saw that potential in him.
Ch 8:
Ike: “What about you, Soren?”
Soren: “…Ike. I’m not sure what help I could be to you. What place is there for me in a mercenary company, anyway?”
Ike: “You are so weird…I’ve always depended on you, haven’t I? I need your tactical knowledge. I need your objectivity. You’re not going to leave me, are you, Soren?”
Soren: “Don’t worry. I’ll be here, watching over you.”
I love how crucial this is to establishing their relationship, especially since all of the dialogues I included before this one are optional. This is the first time most players will see Soren doubt his place, Ike express how much he values Soren, and Soren promise to stay and look after him.
It’s also a perfect introduction to the arc Soren has if you do their supports. Throughout their supports, you learn why he feels like an outsider, finally culminating in him shouting “I don’t belong anywhere!” with the expectation that this will disgust Ike, and that Ike will finally reject him. But he doesn’t. That unconditional acceptance finally gets through to Soren, and in his final line in the game, if he has an A support with Ike, he will say his iconic line, “There’s only one place for me to be, Ike…and it’s by your side.” Even the word choice of “place” echoes the dialogue from chapter 8; what place is there for him? By Ike’s side. Asked and answered.
It’s significant that all of Soren’s appearances since then have quoted this sentiment. It’s the culmination of his journey toward acceptance. Without being tied to a specific family, nationality, or many of the other things that shape a person’s identity and understanding of their place in the world, he thought he would never belong anywhere. But Ike’s main philosophy is that a person’s origins don’t need to define them, and his influence allows Soren to accept himself.
Another interesting thing about the above interaction is how much it stands out from the other conversations in this part of the game. PoR gives a lot of early screen time to the Greil Mercs, even though as we’ve seen, it requires a lot of variations to account for permadeath. This leads up to chapters 8-9, where we see them all handle grief differently as they process what Greil’s life and death mean to them. All of this hits hard, but what’s interesting about Soren is that he never says anything about Greil. Instead, we see the above scene where he questions his own right to be there, as well as various scenes in chapter 9 where he hovers around Ike, trying to provide comfort and not knowing how (see below).
In this scene, the other characters are reacting to the idea of Ike taking command. Their loyalty to Greil is being tested as they have to decide whether to follow his inexperienced son. For instance, we learn in this section how much the three brothers owe to Greil for taking them in. But Soren, though Greil also took him in and he seemed to have some basic respect for Greil’s command, didn’t join the group for Greil. He joined it for Ike. So as he says, “We all knew that Ike was going to inherit command of the company, didn’t we? It just happened sooner than we wanted.” It was already a foregone conclusion that he would one day follow Ike–but to him, it’s not a foregone conclusion that he’ll be allowed to, or has a right to. So in the above script, when everyone is chiming in to express their support of Ike’s leadership, Soren instead vents his own insecurities.
Ch 9:
Much has already been said about Soren’s personal journey and how Ike supports him, but I am also very interested in the reverse. Ike is increasingly being forced to take on roles that he doesn’t feel ready for at the same time as having to swallow his sudden grief. PoR is at heart a coming-of-age story, where Ike is coming into his own while struggling to understand the world around him, all while getting a crash course in topics like war and politics. Soren, as someone who is very caring toward Ike but is otherwise cold and pragmatic due to his own traumatic experiences, and who is knowledgeable about many of the topics that Ike is ignorant of, is a key part of this growth process.
As said, chapter 9 especially has several parts where Soren clearly wishes to comfort Ike in the wake of Greil’s death, but has no idea how. Their C support is an example of this, as is their base conversation, which I’ve always thought was incredibly sweet—especially given that Soren’s intent clearly comes through, and Ike is able to find comfort in his presence while reassuring Soren that he’ll be all right. It demonstrates the care and understanding between them.
Another example though, which you might not necessarily see, happens after Soren’s first report if there was a casualty in the previous chapter:
Soren: “And that’s it.”
Ike: “Ugh…”
Soren: “Ike? Is something wrong?”
Ike: “Even though I was aware of the numbers, hearing it in a report like this is…hard.”
Soren: “Do you mean the casualties and refugees?”
Ike: “Death and destruction are all part of war. My father said that a lot. ‘The first casualties of war are those without strength and those without luck. And there’s nothing you can do about it. Live with bravery, be daring and fearless. Live for those who have died.’ And yet…I can’t help but think if I were more powerful…I could save more people. Couldn’t I?”
Soren: “Ike…”
Ike: “…Blast!”
Soren: “Indeed.”
Ike: “Forgive me. I got carried away.”
Soren: “No, not at all… Um, perhaps I should…”
Ike: “Thank you for the report. I will need more of the same from here on. Keep up the good work.”
Soren: “Thank you, Commander. I will do my best. But if I have your leave, I must be going.”
First of all: Can we all just appreciate how funny “...Blast!” “Indeed.” is? It reads like a shitpost comic, but they really just said that.
Anyway, the idea that people can die in Ike’s very first battle as commander, right after he could do nothing to save his father, hits hard here. FE in general, with its permadeath feature and plots, focuses a lot on the weight of individual deaths in war. Given Greil’s past, it’s unsurprising that he gave Ike the advice he did. But it’s equally unsurprising that Ike would find this hard to accept.
As said before, Soren truly does not know how to offer comfort, but his sympathy for Ike is clear. All he can really do is support him with his tactics and objectivity like Ike asked. So it seems significant that this is one of the only times Soren ever addresses Ike formally. Ike is always just Ike to him, even later on when Ike has been named a lord and general. So to me, the fact that he calls him “Commander” here feels deliberate. All this time, Ike has been doubting his ability to lead, and Soren can’t offer personal comfort–so acknowledging Ike’s role as his leader, and Soren’s commitment to supporting him in that role, is the best assurance he can provide.
Next, I want to talk about the middle section of the game, particularly moments that reference the Ike/Soren supports.
Ch 12:
Nasir: I am uncomfortable around dragons. I thought it would be better if I stayed below in my cabin. My apologies.
Ike: Now that you mention it, Soren seems to have disappeared as well. Have you seen him?
Nasir: Perhaps he's feeling nauseated. For one unaccustomed to sea travel, it's not uncommon.
Ike: Right...I think I'll check up on him later.
I’m including this for being early foreshadowing re: Soren’s origins, as well as one of the many times that Ike checks on him throughout the game. Actually, this is an example of something that happens a LOT, which is the game pointing people toward the Ike/Soren supports. Given how important they are to Soren’s arc and that they’re even a requirement for some scenes in RD, that isn’t surprising. It is pretty unusual in an FE game, however, which makes it notable. Sometimes it feels like every other chapter is putting neon signs around Soren saying “This guy has Stuff, and Ike wants to know what, btw.” This specific example is even one that foreshadows RD, rather than anything that is followed up on directly in this game.
Ch 13:
Ike: Soren...About what I said this morning...
Soren: Yes?
Ike: About the way you phrase things.
Soren: I...I ought to apologize for that.
Ike: No, don't apologize. I know you. I know it's been bothering you, hasn't it?
Soren: No. Well...
Ike: Don't take it personally. I'm no better, you know. Your ability to speak plainly the things others won't is part of what makes you brilliant. Others are too bound by courtesy...With you, I trust that what you say is exactly what you think.
Soren: Well...yes... Thank you, Ike.
I don’t have anything new to say here re: the things Ike understands and appreciates about Soren and how Ike expresses this. I just love this scene. <3
Ch 15:
Ike: Tell me, Soren, are you all right?
Soren: Hm?
Ike: Recently--ever since we reached Begnion, in fact--you've seemed depressed.
Soren: Is...is that so? How odd. Well, I can think of nothing specific that's bothering me.
Ike: Well, if you say so.
Ike: So, it's time for the desert! Which is the best direction to enter from?
Soren: ...
Ike: Soren?
Soren: ...Eh? Yes, what is it?
Ike: All right, I know there's something going on!
Soren: I'm... I'm sorry... I was...thinking. What is it you wanted?
Ike: Well, I was going to ask you for directions, but it's no longer necessary. It looks like we're being met.
This is one of the most blatant examples of their supports being integrated into the plot. It follows up on Ike telling Sigrun that Soren’s been depressed, and leads directly into their B support, plus foreshadows their A support by establishing Soren’s reaction to finding out that he’s branded.
Ch 17:
Ike: Hm? Is that you, Soren? You're up early.
Soren: Actually, I'm always awake at this time.
Ike: Really?
Soren: Yes. You're the one who's up earlier than normal.
Ike: I want to finish our mission today. I think my nervous energy woke me up.
Soren: I understand... The last two days spent searching Serenes Forest for that heron have been frustrating and fruitless. I'm sure he's in there somewhere, but…
Ike: I agree. And Duke Tanas's men are still hunting away. They must think the heron is there as well.
Soren: The only place left is the forest's heart. That's where we should go today. With luck, we may finally locate our target.
Ike: I get the feeling it's going to be a long day.
This, meanwhile, happens after the B support has already been available. This is mostly plot exposition, but what’s significant is that the tone and dynamic are very different than just a couple chapters ago. You can’t tell in text, but they’re smiling in the lines about their sleep schedules, making the vibe very casual and domestic. This is a far cry from just a little while ago, when Soren couldn’t hold a conversation with Ike even while doing his job. This suggests that Soren is feeling somewhat better, and has regained his usual dynamic with Ike–which only really makes sense when you’ve just gotten their B support, and Soren has gotten a lot off of his chest while deciding to keep the rest to himself for now.
Another sweet thing here is Soren’s understanding and sympathetic replies to Ike, which as we saw earlier in the game, he was struggling to provide on a basic level. They’re truly learning and growing together even in little ways.
Immediately after that, we transition into this:
Soren: I believe this is the place where we ended our search yesterday.
Ike: I realized something a couple of days ago...Even in this forest, you always know exactly where you are, don't you?
Soren: Hm?
Ike: How do you do that? I think it's the lack of color, but these woods are starting to look the same to me.
Soren: Yes, that's a problem...
This is again foreshadowing lore from their supports by hinting that Soren has better senses than a beorc (personally, I theorize that due to his dragon blood, Soren has above-average spatial awareness and other abilities that help him with navigation–handy for a tactician!) and setting up the reveal that he managed to navigate a forest on his own as a child.
And finally, one late-game scene:
Ch 27:
Ike: The one I seek is behind these doors. Don't follow me. I'm going in alone.
Soren: Ike! Wait! I'm going with–
Titania: No, Soren. We have to let Ike go alone. The Black Knight is his. Defeating him is a crucial step that Ike must take in order to truly get over the death of his father.
Soren: Idiocy! I'll hear no more of this naive nonsense! What if something happens to him? What then?
Titania: I think Ike has gained the composure to keep calm and judge whether or not he can match an opponent. If, in fact, he can't...it means he's reached his full potential, and that's all there is to him. We just have to accept that. But I believe in Ike. I trust him. His life is not his alone any longer. I don't believe he's so irresponsible as to leave his companions behind by choosing to engage in a contest he cannot win. Please, Soren, you must feel the same way. Don't you?
Soren: ...I don't like it. Sometimes, bravery and good judgment aren't enough.
Titania: Commander Greil... Watch over your son.
I don’t have a lot to say that’s relevant to my other points, I just love this scene for how it establishes both Soren and Titania’s dedication to Ike, and what that means to each of them. Shoutout to the Tellius audio CD for showing us what it would be like for them to support Ike in a fight against the BK! (And shoutout to it in general for having some incredible Ike/Soren content, including some adorable casual banter as well as more dramatic moments.)
Radiant Dawn
Honestly, for understandable reasons of scope, RD doesn’t have as much in the category of ‘Ike/Soren moments that are personal but not in supports/base convos/death quotes/epilogues/etc.’ There are a few fave moments I want to highlight though, as well as just a general appreciation for how Soren is constantly referenced as being at Ike’s side, considering what I’ve already said about what that means re: his arc.
Also, shout-out to their intro cutscene where Soren pays no attention to his surroundings as he hurls magic at the enemies surrounding Ike.
Ch 3-3 (base convo)
Ranulf: Soren has even answered some of Skrimir’s more insane requests. He doesn’t listen to a word I say, but when Soren talks strategy, he’s all ears.
Ike: Is that why he hasn’t been complaining during the briefings?
Ranulf: He says he looks forward to what the little strategist will say next. It looks to me like Soren’s charmed his way into the most powerful position in this army.
Titania: I’m glad to hear it. He’s changed, hasn’t he?
Ranulf: Yeah, I think so. He still doesn’t say much, but he’s a lot more at ease these days. He used to be completely closed off, rejecting anyone who tried to get close. Like he’d lock himself away, all alone in his own little world.
Ike: We all lost and gained something during the Mad King’s War. Maybe it wasn’t a complete waste, after all.
Ranulf’s commentary on Soren’s growth here is great, and of course we have seen how Ike’s support enabled it. It also just says so much that Ike thinks the war wasn’t a complete waste, after all he himself lost and all the horrors he witnessed, just because Soren is more at ease. Especially if you pursue their supports in PoR, Ike spends considerable energy trying to help Soren feel better, so it makes sense that this is still a priority for him.
Ch 3-7
Micaiah: You are so… cold. It’s like you’re cloaked in frost. Is there even blood in your veins?
Soren: There is. Blood very similar to yours, in fact. Blood that teaches us what it means to be rejected and alone.
Micaiah: Your heart is frozen, but I feel a warm core trying to melt through that ice. I see… You have someone you cherish very much. Someone you rely on.
3-13
Micaiah: Yes, and you would know. There’s something very different about you, too. Your energy feels so…ancient. You and I seem to have so much in common.
Soren: That doesn’t matter in the slightest. The only thing that does matter is that you are a dangerous adversary. You are also in Ike’s path, so it falls to me to remove you. It’s almost a shame. Farewell, Maiden of Dawn.
Micaiah: So, you fight for someone, as well. So very much alike… But I will defeat you. I will protect the ones I love!
The parallels between Soren and Micaiah and their relationships, as well as other characters (Hi, Zelgius), are their own fascinating topic. The whole convos between them are great, but I’ll just highlight that it says a lot that Micaiah can read Soren’s heart and sense Ike’s impact on him. Especially when you combine it with Ranulf’s observation, it brings home the influence Ike has on Soren. His first reaction to recognizing Micaiah as a kindred spirit is to focus on the idea that they’re both alone, but she immediately calls out that this isn’t entirely true. Given how determined Micaiah is to protect her loved ones, stemming in part from her own experiences with being branded, the fact that she can recognize that in Soren also speaks volumes.
Ch 3-8
Soren: Our options are profoundly limited, Ike. It appears our only other choice is those caves up ahead.
Ranulf: Caves? Oh...yeah, those are the Kauku Caves. We don't want to go there. It's a complex maze, full of lava and ash. Not exactly a place you'd want to rest. The legends say that, through the caves, there's one exit that leads to Gallia, and another exit that leads to Goldoa. Whatever the legends say, though, the fact is that it's suicide to go in there. We don't even have a map!
Ulki: However, the more you hens carry on, the closer the enemy advances on us. They're now less than a day away.
Soren: If the enemy catches up to us in this forest, we will certainly die. The caves are known to be dangerous, so Begnion may not pursue. Even the most formidable natural hazard isn't as deadly as an intelligent, living enemy. We must go to the caves. Now.
Ike: All right, Soren. I trust you. Let's move out for the caves.
Here’s where my analysis ends. I just…Ike hears how deadly this volcano is, hears Soren say that’s the safest place to be, and then immediately orders the large group of people he’s responsible for to enter it because if Soren says he’ll be safe in the volcano, then he’ll be safe in the volcano.
;_; “The Devoted” indeed.
(If you read this ~2k of script and ~2k of analysis, thank you and I hope you enjoyed! Happy IkeSoren Week Encore, everyone.)
#ikesoren#ikesoren week encore#aisene#ike fire emblem#soren fire emblem#soren#tellius#long post#ikesorenweekencore
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Moments That I Want Tattooed On My Forehead From S-Classes That I Raised Chapters 50-70
As always, BEWARE OF SPOILERS!!! Future chapters may be referenced!!!
The insane amount of lore dropped in these chapters wow
Chapters 50-60
help its genuinely still so funny to see yoojin in the early chapters going: “all i have to do is complete this one (1) task and then i can live like a slacker” before he gives up (cries in cale henituse)
everyone referring to yoojin as “monster daddy” and asking him to raise their children is amazing. no notes
ARRIVAL OF THE KING SUNG HYUNJAE!!! He's a bastard he's amazing he's always on my mind
"...no matter how amazing Sung Hyunjae might be, he wouldn't be able to notice it easily. He wouldn't press his nose against my body and smell me, like my idiot brother had, would he" um. ok??? yoojin's completely normal though process
sung hyunjae essentially telling yoojin “aren’t you tired of being nice? don’t you want to go apeshit” within 5 minutes of their first real conversation
i forgot shj gives him a pair of earrings!! (and a bone for Peace)
yoojin’s disguise to get to the f rank dungeon being a fucking sun protection hat…it’s giving marvel baseball cap and sunglasses…and he has this because he used to stage one man protests??? sir what were you protesting against
oh that’s right the dungeons will appear at a faster rate because “time was only reversed for yoojin” oops
Chirpie makes its debut!!
yoojin trying to hide where he got chirpie from “i found it in the hallway”. king if yoohyun wasn’t suspicious of you already that would do it
yoohyun yeeting Peace and mama yoojin scolding him
chef myungwoo :))
bleh bug dungeon. i’m with you yoojin that was disgusting
yoojin not wanting to use Last Repayment :((
Riette makes an entrance! do you think riette demonstrated girl power when she abused her brother until he became an s rank
yoojin thinking about how he had raised yoohyun and was so happy about sending him to college…saving money for his tuition…and just losing interest in riette :((
yoojin saves bak hayool!!
this is where we see peak yoojin mafia behavior. unhinged. but justified revenge?? this is why i don’t understand fan interpretations where he’s like a wallflower like this man has murdered multiple people quite violently
chapter 60 is just so much. like. i cant even describe. yoojin you need so much therapy
the way he sees people’s last memories before they die ugh…
yoojin playing 3D chess while everyone else is playing checkers fr
him calling his friend who doesn’t remember him bc of the regression and telling them to live a happy life always gets me ufffff i wish we got to meet this character
Chapters 60-70
Yoojin and the Awakening center — a tragedy in the making. Pre-regression trauma galore
The Association rears its ugly head!!! Yoojin has an authority figure problem (but it’s completely justified)
love how chill Yoojin is about Chirpie. random F rank monster that’s cute as hell that’s eating Peace's weight in magic stones and was born from an error in the system??? ehh no big deal it’s my pet now and i’ll kill for it
love the absolutely random detail about seok hayan’s pineapple earrings. thank you geunseo you know what the people want
yoojin funding public research!! hero of the people and my heart
yerim refusing to praise yoohyun and myeongwoo to their faces hahahaha. all of them petty as hell
MYUNGWOO GETS HIS SS RANK SKILL BABYYYY
yoojin still trying to protect myungwoo i love them
yoojin: *is keeping secrets from yoohyun and putting himself in danger*
also yoojin: why is yoohyun being cold with me
everyone’s giving yoojin flowers today lmfao
sung hyunjae you’re everything to me. you’re so bizzare. the bouquet??? showing up in a 2-seater car?? bullying seok simyeong??
Shj reminding Yoojin to wear his seatbelt because he's an F rank HDJEKXIDKD
oh yoojin. “who’d want to place themselves through hardships on purpose” like SIR are u that un self aware
yerim listening to this bullshit, eyes falling out of her head: i’m literally going to crazy murder you with yoohyun
the dungeon ppl have the actual worst timing. yoohyun is going to McFreaking lose it
yoojin and yoohyun finally work things out we love to see it :))
chapter 65 starts the explanation of the 50 s ranks requirement!!! water droplet is going through it
so much is just casually dropped in this chapter like. yoohyun is a born s rank! the dungeon ppl are manually inputting things for yoojin! the world might end! anyways!
yoojin having such strong mom energy that the dungeon people forgot he was a dude
one of the moments ever when yoohyun and Peace burn down the dungeon in worry and yoojin’s just there like. ah. shit. my bad i fucked up there a little
grown up Peace my beloved
chapter 67 yoohyun my beloved. you are so crazy. “hold still while i chop off your arm and fake your dear so i can keep you safe”
the han brothers finally having a real conversation. yoojin i love you but you really needed to do this sooner
PEACE STAYING SMALL JUST SO YOOJIN CAN PICK HIM UP UWAHHHH MY HEART
Newcomer joins the battle
Chirpie turnin on the TV by itself and yoojin praising it like every proud parent ever
more monsters!!!
unicorns (white + black bc yoojin is terrible at naming) + gryphon (named Blue)
yoojin’s training method of using himself as a human chew toy is traumatizing for everyone around him.
same hyuna i would also be taking 10939392 photos
Peace and Blue WWE match. flex on em Peace
nobody:
yoojin: wow myeongwoo is hot now
BLUE LEARNING HOW TO OPEN THE FRIDGE
i love the monster shenanigans
#losttalks#han yoojin#s class#s classes that i raised#sctir#the s classes that i raised#the s ranks that i raised
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direction -
pairing: matty healy x f!reader
content: fingering, unprotected sex, matty can't shut the fuck up™, overstim
wordcount: 3743
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a/n: the people have spoken
your motto has always been "fake it till you make it". what started as something you'd say to yourself to get over anxieties slowly bled into other areas of your life, relationships included.
fake confidence until you have it. fake experience until you get some.
easy, right?
well, over time, you've become a pro faker. people rarely approach you cause they think you're arrogant.
and that suits you. who has time for superficial relationships anyways?
but then you met matty, who's gentle, kind, funny, smart. he never gave up on you, even if you sometimes came off as stand-offish, even if you acted like you were too good for him and men in general, even if you fought him every step of the way, surprised by his determination.
in the beginning, you played along. you let him try to woo you, let him compliment you and take you out. you responded to all of his texts, even if you are both too old to be texting like high schoolers. slowly but surely, he made you drop the façade, at least around him, which is when your relationship became more than just teasing glances and flirty texts.
everything led up to where you are now: in matty's stupidly comfortable bed, wearing his stupidly warm sweater, kissing his stupidly pretty face.
the movie he had put on was some cheesy horror flick: lots of fake blood, shitty special effects, and a naive main character. it's long forgotten though, mediocre soundtrack serving as background noise to a much more exciting activity.
you've always prided yourself on how strong you were, not being easily swayed by your sexual urges. fake it until you make it - but what then?
what if matty expects you to rock his world tonight? what if he thinks you'll take the lead, with the same (fake) confidence you do everything else?
technically, you know how it should all work, but you have no first-hand experience. your sexual endeavours end pretty fast, either with you giving up on the guy or them thinking you're too demanding for someone who isn't putting out. either way, it’s good riddance, and you’ve never had regrets about not having sex before.
once, during your intense college years, you had to present your research in front of all your peers. the stress caused you to lose sleep, and you replaced eating with frantic rewriting. by the time the due date rolled around, your brain was scrambled, and you were positive you were going to puke all over the front row of desks.
now, underneath the warm weight of your boyfriend, you’re feeling exactly the same way. what if you manage to do something so revoltingly off-putting he can never look at you again?
"hey."
matty's soft voice shocks you out of your quickly spiralling head. he's looking down at you with gentle, but confused, eyes.
"you've gone all stiff on me, love. you feelin' okay?"
you should've known he'd see through your wall of false confidence.
"y'know we don't have to do anything, right? you look like you're about to cry."
you refuse to dignify that with a response as heat floods your face and, mortifyingly, prickles in your sinuses. he sighs, rolling off of you and laying on his side, facing you.
“that was meant to make you laugh.”
you try to smile at him and feel your lips wobble instead.
“hey. i'm being serious, what’s going on in there?” he brings his hand up, stroking his fingers through your hair.
“i don’t want to repulse you,” you whisper.
he frowns. "you've got a horrific confidence problem. there is nothing, and i mean nothing, repulsive about you. and besides, i've already seen you at your grossest. remember when you got mono and your neck was all swollen?"
you glower at him. “yeah, and i caught it from you! that makes me feel so much better.”
shaking his head, his next words are insistent.
“i mean it. did you know, that every time we go out, someone tells me how lucky i am? c'mon, darling, you know i wouldn't be saying this shit if it wasn't true.”
“i know, and i want to, but fuck, matty it's going to be so bad.”
“well yeah, with that attitude it will. we’re gonna figure out what you like, but only if you want to.”
his eyes are soft, looking down at you with unguarded warmth.
clearing your throat, you fidget nervously with the edge of your (his) sweater.
“so. how - um - how do you want to...?”
he grins crookedly. “move to the middle of the bed.”
swallowing hard, you follow his instructions, legs splayed flat out in front of you as you lean back on your elbows, staring at him expectantly.
“this is about you, okay? whatever you want to do, we can do. including nothing, if it doesn’t feel right.”
your voice is barely more than a whisper. “want you to touch me.”
you could swear you hear a little hitch in his breath, and mustering all the courage you have, you meet his gaze. his mouth is slightly open, the curved bow of his upper lip revealing the edges of his white teeth, and you watch as he presses his lips closed, nodding.
"okay. you gotta talk to me, yeah? tell me if you want me to stop, if something feels good, or if you want more. deal?”
“deal,” you breathe back.
he moves, bending his head to press his mouth on the side of your neck. something splinters hot down the centre of your body, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s desire, pure and hard, crystalline. you can already feel slick warmth in your underwear, and you haven’t even started.
“oh,” you gasp, the round syllable small in your mouth, and he lowers his hand, smoothing down the bunched fabric of your (his) sweater, following the swell of your hip, moving slowly so you have time to breathe.
“good?” he murmurs, and you nod dumbly.
he inches lower, hand flat on your leg, fingers resting just a hairsbreadth from your centre. matty drags his hand lightly along the inside of your thigh, opening his mouth on your neck, tongue hot as he presses it to the softness of your skin.
“how ‘bout now?”
“mhm,” you manage.
unbearably careful, he brushes the tip of his index finger along the seam of your pants, the pressure light, but precise, right against the place you’re most sensitive. your left leg jerks as though you’ve been shocked, and he freezes his hand there, lips sealing around your neck, holding you until you stop twitching with alarm.
you can already feel a steady pooling in your underwear, and you shift uncomfortably against him, unsure if you’re doing it to relieve the ache between your legs or to increase the friction against you.
still moving with absolute restraint, he presses down, a slow, controlled line directly down the centre of your cunt. the tension in every single joint is making you shake, muscles burning with the effort of holding still, and you swear you feel something crack as he eases his touch up to rest at the waistband of your pants, before sliding his hand underneath.
“you still with me?" he murmurs and you can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe.
his callused fingers are resting just above your pussy, palm lightly pressed to the rise of your mound, and he lifts his lips to graze your ear.
“you gotta talk to me,” he reminds you.
you shudder, releasing your held breath, shoulders sore from the stiffness of your body.
“yes. yes, i’m - it’s good, please don’t stop.”
he opens his hand, letting his middle finger drag slowly between your folds, and you feel it at the same moment he does; you’re soaked.
so unbelievably wet it feels like something’s gone wrong and you want to shut your legs and crawl away from him. your skin is prickling with heat as you feel a slow line of sweat roll down the back of your leg, making you squirm, desperate to shuck your skin.
“oh, baby..." he breathes, the edges of his teeth scraping your earlobe. “you’re soaked.”
clenching your eyes shut, your is voice petulant as you murmur back to him.
“i can’t help it, i don’t know why, it’s not my fault. i -"
“shush. it’s so fucking hot. you’re so reactive,” he says, voice gravelly. he slides a second finger to join the first, parting them and spreading your folds. even through the fabric of your pants, you can both hear the slick sound and you want to die; burrow into a hole somewhere and never come out. as though sensing your squirming agony, he chooses that moment to ease both fingers inside you, and your heart stops in your chest at the slow stretch.
this is matty. your matty. and right now his fingers are inside you, stretching you open.
the thought alone is enough to make your entire body throb with a sudden, overpowering pulse and you feel yourself clench around him unconsciously. he groans into your ear.
“you’re so tight. shit, you feel perfect. does that feel good?”
you can’t speak, nodding helplessly against him. he withdraws a couple of centimetres, easing back inside slower but deeper than before, hooking his fingers slightly inside you. your hips flex against his touch, trying to encourage him to keep moving as he rolls his thumb over your clit, and you see stars.
matty's touch feels as confident as the way he performs; like he was born to do this; like he could do it in his sleep.
he drags his fingers inside you, and your pelvis lifts unconsciously to follow his movements, trying to chase the feeling.
“you’re doing so good, baby. you're so pretty, so fucking hot. y'gonna come for me, love?”
despite the intensity of the sensations between your legs, it’s his words that tip you over the edge. you bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying to contain the high-pitched groan as your muscles clamp around his fingers, cunt fluttering. You feel your warmth coating his fingers, and he rides you through it, his movements only easing to a stop once your body has relaxed into a melted heap draped over him.
slowly, he withdraws his fingers from your pants, sliding out from underneath you and lowering your malleable, floppy limbs onto the bed. you watch him drunkenly as he sits up in front of you on his knees, gaze snagging on his hand.
you’re mortified at the sight of the clear viscous fluid stretching between his parted fingers, and you just about die of embarrassment as he brings his hand to his lips, sliding them into his mouth and sucking them clean.
“perfect. you’re perfect,” he tells you, and you want to cover your face, but you’re pinned there, watching. his pants are tented tellingly in the front, and you’re trying not to make it obvious but you can’t tear your gaze away.
“told you. nothing wrong with you,” he informs you, grinning.
“i’m gonna take your pants off,” he says, and you lift your hips helpfully, earning a little twist from his lips at your enthusiasm. sliding your legs free, he settles on his knees. your eyes are drawn back helplessly to the bulge in his pants, and he catches you looking.
“matty, i want - want you to...”
“what, love? c'mon, talk to me.” he crawls up over you, braced on his hands and knees, leaning down.
“fuck me.”
he raises an eyebrow. “you need a break first?”
in response, you lift your hips to press against the hard outline of his straining cock. he ducks his head, leaning his weight up on one arm as he kicks his pants down and you watch the muscles in his shoulder work through the thin fabric of his shirt.
“i’m gonna fuck you so good, baby. you want that?”
“yeah,” you whisper. “yes, do it, please.”
“do what?” matty asks with a wry smile. he’s propped up on one elbow now, gazing down into your raw, open face. “c’mon, you've got to say it for me, angel.”
you let out a shaky sigh, a hand sliding down to the back of matty's neck. you pull him close, so your lips brush. “please fuck me. need you so bad.”
matty's eyes flutter closed for a moment. he breathes out hard, then leans away, and sits up. he's struggling with getting his pants all the way off, so you help the best you can, feeling fluttery and strange, in a feverish trance of pleasure, dumb with anticipation for more.
“please,” you mutter, “please, come on, i want it-”
“fuck, fuck, okay…” matty says, chuckling. “you gotta take it easy with the begging, sweetheart. i’m already putting everything i have into not coming the second i get inside you.”
flushing, you brush the stray curls from matty's face. "you said you'd make it good. so shut up, and fuck me already."
"there’s my favourite brat,” matty says with a grin, then he’s holding himself at your entrance, easing in slowly, a hand on your waist.
he’s big. you have a moment of panic at the stretch, and you gasp, hands flying up to grasp at his forearms as though you could somehow control the movement of his hips that way.
his teeth are pressed to his lip, eyes shut, and you wonder exactly how tight it is for him as he shudders through an exhalation. he forces his eyes open to look down at you, concern evident, checking up on you even as his arms shake with the effort of holding still.
“oh, sh - shit. you good?”
nodding, you release your own held breath with a shudder, your entire body trembling violently underneath him, thighs aching from how tightly wound your muscles are. he sinks down another inch and you both hiss in synchrony, your fingers tightening around his arms just as his tighten around your waist.
“you’re doing so good baby, you’re taking me so well, you feel perfect,” he’s breathing, the fullness unbearable. you arch your neck to look down at where you’re split open around him, the sight enough to make your breath hitch in your chest. he looks down in time to see your eyes widen, and he follows your gaze, his strangled intake of breath following.
“you see that? see how perfect you are? fuck, you’re so beautiful, you’re so tight, you feel incredible...”
you press your lips to his, stopping his unhinged babbling. you’re trying your hardest just to concentrate on taking his thick cock, breathing through the desperate ache as he slowly forces you open. he parts his lips against yours and you press your tongue against him, seeking more. his groaning response makes him slip, losing control for one second, just long enough to let him sink the rest of the way inside you. he’s trying to break from your lips, but you don’t want to listen to whatever it is he’s about to say, so you gently bite down on his lower lip, holding him captive. his hips flex helplessly into you as he tries to talk again, and despite your breathlessness, you could almost laugh at the fact that even now, typically; matty healy just cannot shut the fuck up.
the agonizing, all-encompassing stretch is slowly easing into something else; something bright and hard, sending skittering shockwaves up through your stomach. experimentally you flatten your feet on the bed under you, using the leverage to push your hips up and—shit, it’s too much, too full, you can’t possibly take any more of him but then right there, the angle shifts, and something snaps in your brain.
you wrench your head back, keening as you try to grind up into that spot, that fucking spot. matty's eyes are unfocused, his expression pained.
“baby, wait, wait a sec,” and you can’t help but roll yourself against him again, making him choke.
“what’s wrong?” you breathe back, unable to keep still, your legs trembling with the effort of holding yourself up against him.
“is this...not good?” you ask, suddenly small.
he doesn’t answer right away, and you watch as sweat beads on his upper lip, his eyes still squeezed shut.
“matty?” you try again and he makes a strangled sound, eyes snapping open to pin you down.
“say my name again,” and you barely shape your lips around it before he’s hissing, driving his hips down to smack hard into yours, knocking the breath from your lungs.
“d’yknow how - how many times i’ve thought about this? About being inside you like this?” he punctuates his words with short, hard thrusts. “you’re fucking perfect. your pussy's, fuck - fucking perfect.”
your face erupts with heat at his words. he catches you flinching and his eyes light, grinning even as you watch the muscles in his shoulders shake with the effort of controlling himself.
“why’s that make you shy? don’t like me talking about your pussy? you wanna know how good you feel, baby? you’re—shit,” another shallow thrust, his brows pinching together, “so tight and, fuck, taking me so well…” his rambling trails out into nonsensical murmurs.
he’s slowly working into a rhythm, flexing his hips backwards, still short and shallow but he’s angling himself so precisely, right against the place where you can’t stand, and it’s too much. you squirm back into the mattress, trying to escape, but there’s nowhere to go as the sensation swells to a crest. you tighten around him, your legs falling limp, your fingers creeping up into his hair, needing something to brace yourself against as the growing reverberations between your legs throb outwards, filling your stomach with heat.
you can almost see your orgasm rocketing up through you, your vision cutting out right as you shatter with a pathetic moan of his name. your cunt clamps down on him hard, again and again, rippling around him. he watches you fall apart, his breathing steady despite the tremor in his limbs. he barely gives you a minute to recover before he’s moving again, deepening his thrusts, expression one of absolute focus. the sheer concentration in his eyes scares the shit out of you; you know that look. it’s the one he gets whenever someone tells him no to an idea in the studio, when someone says that he shouldn't put out another black and white music video, when his bullish stubbornness completely takes over.
matty leans back, raising himself onto his knees between your spread legs. he brings a hand under each of your knees, crooking your legs up around his waist as he works in and out of you, the wet squelch of your cunt loud over the muffled sounds of the forgotten movie as he begins to fuck you in earnest. you can’t breathe, incapacitated by the shuddering of your legs, your stomach muscles clenching as your body desperately tries to keep up with your frantic gasping. your back is arched, your shoulders forced down into the bed with the force of each thrust as he reaches down between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit as easily as though your body is laid out the same as his guitars or keyboards, practised and nimble.
sweat prickles your skin anew as his fingers drag you higher and incomprehensibly higher and you wail, slapping a hand over your mouth to still the sound. he leans over you, the triangle of bare skin at his chest gleaming with sweat, fine silver chain glinting under the edge of his shirt. he grabs your wrist and moves your hand aside, pinning it to the bed beside your head.
"hey, hey. c'mon babe, let me hear you." he times a perfectly-aligned thrust with a firm stroke over your clit and, unable to stop yourself, you let out a breathless moan. he grins, chuckling breathily.
"god, you sound so good. prettiest fuckin' thing ive ever heard," he murmurs, voice ragged. he rips the sound from you again, and again, watching greedily. it’s too much, way too much and you’re already over the edge of another orgasm before you realize what’s happening, eyes rolling back in your head, mouth open in wordless pleasure.
this time he doesn’t slow down, instead increasing the pressure on your clit, fucking you deeper. his cock hits something sharp high up in your guts and you sob as another orgasm rolls up from your stomach, washing over the last climax. your hips twitch helplessly against his grip as he fucks you through each wave of pleasure, and you think you’re coming again, or still coming, you can’t tell anymore, time losing all meaning as your cunt sucks wet at his cock, bearing down on him vice-tight.
some impossible time later, you realize his breaths have shortened into gasps. his hips stutter and he leans back down over you, arms braced on either side of your head as his pace falls out of its steady rhythm. you manage to regain control of yourself long enough to reach a hand up to the back of his neck, feeling the hem of his shirt under your fingers. he looks down at you, and his mouth drops open, eyes dropping shut as he groans your name, low and rough, and as he plunges in deep you actually feel him coming before he does. his back curves over you, his forehead pressed to yours as his hips shudder, and the tightening of his stomach muscles against yours is echoed inside you as his cock throbs, filling you.
he lays heavy on your chest, both of you panting. everything is so slick underneath you, you can’t tell what’s sweat and what’s cum, your skin feverish. you shift your thighs restlessly, sticky and aching and he raises his head, looking down at you.
“was that...okay?” you breathe, self-conscious again.
his eyes shut briefly as he shakes his head.
“you’re crazy. she’s crazy,” he says to nobody in particular, lifting himself over you, hands pressing into the mattress.
gasping, you sit up on your elbows to look down at him.
“what are you doing?”
his tongue laves long stripe along your still-sensitive pussy, dipping briefly inside before he breaks the contact to look up at you, eyebrow raised.
“cleaning you up. you thought we were done?”
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#matty ⎕ ‧₊˚#the 1975#the 1975 smut#matty healy#matty healy fanfic#matty healy x reader#the 1975 fic#the 1975 fanfic#the 1975 imagine#matty healy smut#matty healy drabble#matty healy x you#matty healy x y/n#fanfic#the 1975 matty#the 1975 imagines#the 1975 preference#the 1975 preferences#the 1975 one shot#the 1975 one shots#the 1975 fanfiction#matt healy#matthew healy#matty healy preference#matty healy imagine#matty healy imagines#matty healy preferences#matty healy one shot#matty healy one shots#matty healy fanfiction
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Hey it’s me again I have another request but don’t feel pressured to do it but could u do another Melissa x reader were reader gets really depressed and doesn’t keep up with proper hygiene and stuff and Melissa helps her or something along those lines your writing is so good so Ik if u do write it, it will be really good ether way (sorry the requests I keep making r sad I’m struggling atm and I don’t see very many good fics about mental health related things your fics r such a comfort to me thank u so much and again don’t feel pressured to do it also take care of yourself 🫶)
Hey, it’s not a problem, I’m glad you’re finding comfort from my fics. And thank you for loving how I write. Here’s the fic I wrote for this one. And it seems like my last 2 fics I’m like ‘fuck what the reader is feeling, let’s focus on Melissa’ 😅. Oh well, I don’t regret a thing. Anyway there is a small smut part but it’s really cute and it fits and there’s lots of fluff. And feel free to keep sending me prompts. I hope you like it.
Let Me Help You
Warnings: depression, smut (small part)
Words: 2.1k
Melissa notices the changes in you immediately. From the moments she can see you fake a smile to your eyes that hold sadness. And while you don’t tell her, even when it gets worse, she already knows. Being your girlfriend for 6 months meant she sees even small changes in you. And she will find a way to fix it.
You have struggled with depression your whole life, it’s been on and off. You told Melissa this back when you two were just friends, so when she sees your changes, she knows immediately.
Melissa kept hoping that you’d talk to her because she wants to help you but she doesn’t know what’s going through your mind. But you never do talk to her, and it only gets worse.
Soon, you stop faking smiles and settle on a frown, she sees the bags under your eyes get darker, you start to lose weight as you haven’t been eating as much and she sees your mental health just keep declining.
She decided she had enough, she needed to talk to you. She didn’t want to push you at first but this has gotten out of hand, she’s worried about you.
You knew what was happening, you felt it when you woke up one morning. That familiar feeling where you feel empty. You didn’t want to tell Melissa though, you got worried that she might leave you if it seemed like helping you through this was too much.
You kept the fact that you were depressed hidden from her the best you could. Then one day, you just decided, fuck it, you don’t care if she knows. You won’t outright tell her or ask for her help though, you’re going to keep her out of this.
Even when you knew your mental and physical health was declining, you didn’t tell her. Even though you were getting like 3 hours of sleep (if you were lucky), you kept forgetting to eat so you were losing weight, and you stopped smiling. You didn’t tell her and you won’t, you don’t want to scare and lose her.
Then she texted you one Friday night after you had gotten home.
Mel: We need to talk, can you come over?
You read the text over and over, you knew what that meant, she was going to break up with you. Deciding to bite the bullet and just get it over with, you went over to her house.
She answered the door, “hey hun, come on in.”
You rolled your eyes as you walked in. Why would she call you hun if she was about to break up with you. You stood in her living room with your arms crossed. She looked at you concerned. “Can we go and talk on the couch please?” She said and she started walking over.
“I’d rather not.” You said. And she stopped walking and looked at you. “Look Melissa, you’re obviously wanting to break up with me. So I’d rather you just say it and get it over with.” You tell her and she looks at you surprised.
“Hun, I’m not wanting to break up with you. Why would you think that?” She asks, genuinely surprised.
“Because of the text you sent, ‘we need to talk’, that’s the popular line you say to someone when you’re going to break up with them.” You tell her and her face turns red.
“Oh hun, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I really do want to talk to you but I’m not breaking up with you.” She says as she makes her way over to you. She wraps her arms around your waist and looks at you. “I’m worried about you. I know you’re depressed right now and I’ve been waiting for you to come to me because I didn’t want to push. But I see your health declining and I can’t stand to see you like this. I want to help you.” She tells you and you’re shocked. You didn’t expect her to notice if you didn’t tell her, you should have given her more credit. You knew she was smart and pays attention to detail and… you freeze and mentally facepalm. She paid attention to you because she cared about you and she noticed you were struggling.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” You said to her and wrapped your arms around her waist. “I was scared that if you knew and thought it was too much then you’d leave me.” You say and you look down.
Melissa looks at you with a sympathetic look. She takes one hand off your waist and lifts your chin so you look at her. “Hun, when I told you I love you, I didn’t mean I only love the happy things about you. I love everything about you, the good, the bad and everything in between.” A tear falls down your cheek and she wipes it away with her thumb. “And when you struggle, I want you to come to me so I can help. So, how can I help? Anything you need.”
“Honestly I just need you here with me, I don’t want to be alone.” You tell her and she smiles.
“Of course hun.” She says and kisses your forehead. “Oh I almost forgot.” She says and pulls away from you, takes your hand and leads you to the dining room. “I made you something to eat. Then after we eat, then I thought we could take a nice bubble bath together and then go to bed together.” She told you as she goes behind you and hugs you from behind with a head on your shoulder. “How does that sound?” She asks.
You hum and lean into her touch. “I think it sounds perfect.” You tell her and she smiles. Both of you enjoying the warmth of each other’s touch.
And that’s exactly what happens, she brings you to the table to eat and you enjoy a perfect meal made by your girlfriend. After either not eating or eating crappy store bought made meals, having actual food, felt like heaven, actually double heaven since anything Melissa makes is perfect.
After dinner, Melissa brings you upstairs to her bathroom and instructs you to strip as she pours a bath. You haven’t had the energy to keep on top of your hygiene lately. You’ve been having a shower every other day as you haven’t found the energy to do it every day.
You strip as Melissa fills the tub. When the tub is filling up, Melissa looks at you and as you take your pants off and you still have your bra and underwear on. She can see the effect the weight loss has on you, she always thinks you look perfect no matter what. Besides, it just means that she’ll have to keep feeding you until you get the weight back. And she smiles at that thought , thinking of all the meals to make you. She loves cooking, and she loves it even more when she does it for someone she cares about.
Melissa gets up as the tub is filling up and walks over to you. She leans in and kisses you and you kiss her back. As she’s kissing you, she unclips your bra and takes it off. You take off Melissa’s shirt and she unclips her bra and you take it off. You love seeing her breasts, continue kissing her as you cup her boobs and she gasps in your mouth out of surprise. Melissa breaks away from the kiss and pulls your underwear down and you lift your feet to help her take them off. Once she does, she leaves them with the rest of your clothes then is high level to your vagina. She puts her hands on your outside thighs and rubs them and then she sneaks a kiss right to your pussy and you buck your hips.
Melissa gets up and goes to the tub and turns it off when it’s filled enough. She takes the rest of her clothes off and then steps in the tub and sits down. You follow in after her and lean against her chest and she wraps her arms around you and pulls you closer to her. After a minute she takes the small little bucket she got at the store on her way home today (cause she planned all of this in advance), and pours water on your hair. Once your hair is all wet, she squeezes out some shampoo onto her hand and begins applying it to your head and gives you a scalp massage in the process. When she’s done with the shampoo she takes the bucket and begins rinsing out the shampoo. And she does the same thing with the conditioner.
After she rinses out the conditioner, she takes the bar of soap she has begins applying it everywhere on your body, taking extra time on your chest, ass and thighs of course. When she’s done applying it everywhere, she helps rinse it all off, even though half of it already is since half your body is in water. After she rinses it all off, you lean into her and relax against her. She just holds you close and kisses the top of your head. She then migrates her kisses down to your neck. She begins sucking on your neck and playing with your nipples, eliciting a moan from you. She then moves one of her hands down and stops kissing your neck and just looks at your face and your body reacting to her touches. Her hand moves down all the way between your legs and she slips a finger between your legs and finds your clit. You gasp as she begins circling your clit and you spread your legs.
Melissa knows your body well, she knows what you like, what you don’t like, what makes you cum fast and what makes you cum slowly. And right now she just focuses on making you feel good. She then moves her hand down a bit and slips a finger in your entrance and you moan. She starts moving her finger in and out you slowly while she places kisses all along your shoulders. She then adds a second finger in you and moves faster. You moan out her name and she moves her other hand down and finds your clit and starts rubbing it. You’re approaching your high very quickly and Melissa knows your body won’t come unless she gives permission.
“Go on mia Amore, cum for me.” She says in your ear. You cum right away, screaming her name out. Melissa then gently pulls her fingers out of you and kisses the top of your head. She snuggles you for a bit, giving you a few minutes to calm down from the recent activity. By the time Melissa thinks you should get out, she looks at you and sees you fast asleep. She really doesn’t want to wake you up, but she has too.
“Hey, Mia Amore. I’m gonna need you to wake up and at least just stand up. Once you stand up then I’ll just carry you to the bed ok? Can you stand up for me?” She tells you and you nod. It takes you a little bit but after a minute, you’re standing up and you get out of the tub. Melissa pulls the plug and gets out, grabs the towel, wraps it around you then picks you up and carries you to the bed. Once you’re there, Melissa heads back to the bathroom and grabs a hairbrush and a towel for herself. She dries her body off, brushes her hair out then brings the hairbrush with her and climbs in the bed. When she gets in bed, you’re somehow still awake and she lifts your body up a bit and settles herself underneath you, with your head in her lap.
Melissa begins brushing your hair, brushing it with extra care so it doesn’t pull your hair. Once she’s done brushing, she sees you fast asleep again. This time she doesn’t have to wake you. She puts the brush on the nightstand, lifts your upper body up carefully, moves out from under you, then sets your head down after putting a pillow there. She then goes to turn off the light and then gets back into bed and snuggles into you, she presses one last kiss to your forehead and then falls asleep.
Melissa might not have been there when you had depression before. But now that she’s here, she’ll always be there to help you, for your mental and physical health. And she does so for the rest of your lives.
Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta ,@imaginesmultifandoms
If you ever want to be added to the list then just let me know
#melissa schemmenti x reader#melissa schemmenti x oc#melissa schemmenti x you#melissa schemmenti#x reader#fanfic
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Can’t Lose Family / Joel Miller Imagine
Request: Joel request- him helping Reader get her medications and she repays him with a kiss even though they aren't together?
This turned into a much cuter found family fic than I meant it too lmao but also sorry not sorry @miraclesabound!!
Warning: strong language, fighting infected, mentions of guns and knives, mentions of what happens with Sam and Henry, mentions of blood, and mentions of Sarah!
This one’s pushing 4,000 words lads which has to be my longest one shot - I spent all day writing this, so if you enjoyed please support me by commenting and reblogging!
(I do not own the Last of Us or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @manny-jacinto.)
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°
If you found one more goddamn empty first aid kit, you were going to tear a clicker’s head clean off its stupid mushroom neck.
It hadn’t been an easy journey even getting to this point. Despite Ellie’s numerous protests, snide looks, and even grabs at your jacket with a ‘questioning your sanity’ kind of look, you and Joel had both agreed that a supermall was the best next place to look for the specific kind of medication you needed.
‘It’s the only place left in this state we haven’t already scoured’, he had muttered from in front of you, pulling up Callus’ reigns and bringing the horse to a sudden halt. The building seemed to loom up from the corner of your eyes like a shooting spore; beams of light seemed to light up its cracks, spraying dust upwards through the shattered windows and clawed bricks until they flew out and danced across the sky. It whistled with every blow of wind, grumbled and heaved with the weight of its walls, howled with the furious screeches of the horde of infected that vacated the forgotten premises.
From where she was sandwiched between the two of you, Ellie managed to squeeze her head out past Joel’s shoulder and scoff. Your grip on her shoulders tightened as she tried to turn her head back to throw you an averse scowl. ‘If you guys go in there and make it back in one piece’, her words are jolted by her nose face planting into the back of Joel’s jacket, Callus rearing up his front legs and whinnying at the piercing cry of what sounded to be a recently turned runner convulsing about in horrendous pain. You straightened her back up on the saddle, and she let you wrap your arms around the top of her stomach to keep her balanced. ‘I swear, I’ll eat my backpack.’
Joel just looked past his shoulder to give her a bemused look.
‘Still would be better than having to hear another one of them lines from your joke book.’ Ellie slapped him on the shoulder, but she couldn’t hide the fact that she was looking down at the sprouting shoots breaking through the strewn concrete on the road to hide her growing smile. ‘Shut up old man. You can never escape Will Livingstone.’
You tapped Ellie’s shoulder, and when she turned to see the mischievous glint in your eye, she nodded with a grin. ‘Hey Joel’, you started, waiting for his grunt reply. ‘Do you know the last place I went before the outbreak was too a zoo?’
‘Is that so’, he sighs, not even bothering to turn his head with the foresight to realise where this was going. Hearing Ellie snicker into her hand, her other clutching into his shoulder with anticipation also brought some clarity. ‘Yeah, the only animal there was a dog. It was a Shizu. Get it? Get it, a Shit-zo-’. Joel just gave a groan that erupted from the pit of his stomach, pretending not to laugh as Ellie erupted into giggles, throwing her head back against your chin.
Joel gazed forward, looking out past the large stretch of empty highway and over the impending treeline speckled in the distance towards the swirl of dull pink and sweet lavender that had begun to transfigure the sky. ‘Yeah, see, this is the problem’, he grunted, ‘maybe being a runner wouldn’t be so bad.’ He couldn’t hide the fact that he was beginning to grin too.
Ellie snorted, and waved her hand out towards the upcoming building. ‘Well if you go in there, I think your wish will come true.’ Her words brought a fresh wave of silence over the three of you; the kind of forlorn, contemplative stillness that hadn’t shrouded itself over your little makeshift family since you all lost Sam and Henry-. You shuddered, not wanting to go back there anymore. It had been hard enough burying them, let alone trying to deal with the solitude of Ellie’s guilt and the barricading walls Joel had thrown back up at even the mention of the too small grave. It had been hard, the last few weeks, and you didn’t want the people you loved most in this derelict world to fall back into a hopelessness you had fought so hard to drag them out of.
You didn’t miss the way Joel had glanced back down at his watch though, his face hardening as he steered Callus on.
‘It will be alright, Ellie’, you patted her shoulder and winced as the sound of more infected began to ring out through the dusk and pierce your ears. Ellie shook: not with fear of them, but with terror at the thought that it could take just one wrong move, one wrong moment in this life for her to be left alone again. To be left behind. To lose everyone she loved, yet again.
But she was brave, and strong, and ready to fight for every scrap she had in spite of the world’s indifference. ‘I know,’ was all she whispered as the three of you came to a stop in front of the mall’s perimeter. The resignation didn’t last too long, though; as soon as Joel had given you his hand to help you down onto the curb, Ellie had started up again at the groans of the building’s floors constricting with the cold.
As Joel had given you a boost up past the half-blown brick wall leaking frost out from the west side of the building, Ellie had thrown her hands up in disgust. ‘Fine!’, she grabbed Callus’ reigns and led him over to a bent piece of iron fence at the edge of the perimeter. ‘If either of you fuckers decide to become infected, I’m gonna kick your shins!’ Even with the crossed arms and huff that followed, when you turned your head to look back at her, she had given you a silent, pleading nod warning you to both come back in one piece. With a final reassuring smile in her direction, you had left the girl stroking Callus’ back, and leant down to heave Joel over into the grave darkness.
The first thing you heard was the sound of sneakers pounding through the walls, the huffing and sliding of about ten bodies coming running towards you. Drawing out your knife from your back pocket, you readied yourself for the oncoming onslaught, but it never arrived. Instead, you were blinded by the sudden flash of gunfire as Joel stepped in front of you, using himself to shield himself from the infected unhinging their mouths and running into the gunfire. Only when he was sure the last one had stopped twitching on the ground did he lower his gun and turn to look at you, raging frenzy clear in his eyes.
Yet he was so gentle. So, so gentle with you. He clicked on his torch and clipped it onto the lapel of Frank’s old plaid shirt, stained once again with the scent of blood. He reached out a hand towards you, chest heaving as he turned his back to the litter of bodies now staining the linoleum floor.
‘Are you- are you alright?’ He didn’t know exactly what to do, bless him. So unsure as to how, or if he should show affection anymore. His face fell stern as he looked you up and down, yet his fingers itched against his thighs and clawed at his jeans, as if he were desperate to touch you and make sure himself. You reached out to him with one arm, and he tenderly took your wrist within his fingers. He couldn’t quite bring himself to hold your hand yet, to allow himself that sort of vulnerability, to ever give in to that sort of familiarity with another person again, but it was a step in the right direction.
‘Are you okay?’ The question was more desperate now, more sober, and the most genuine reflection of his pounding heart as he flipped your hand over and used his pointer finger to check your pulse. Sometimes, when the three of you got into tough scraps, it would be the only thing that could bring him back from that fear induced rage. You pretended not to feel his thumb shake against your wrist bone, instead nodding and dragging your fingers down to squeeze his own. ‘Let’s keep going. Ellie will be freaking out by now.’
‘Yes, I am! What the fuck was that!’, you heard echoing in from outside, the alarm in Ellie’s voice filling the vacuous hallway.
Joel managed to huff out a laugh, before shouldering his gun back round his side and nodding at you. He swallowed thickly, but even as you brushed past him to head further towards the shops, you could see how desperately he was scrunching his lips to try and push away the worry that flickered in his eyes.
And now? After all that? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
You kick the empty case clear half way across the store, grunting in victory as you hear it smash against the legs of a frayed mannequin and toss it down onto the floor. An ash cloud of dust sprays up at the movement, making Joel cross his arm in front of his mouth and hack a cough as he’s sprayed in white.
‘We still haven’t tried the door behind the counter.’
‘Joel, we’ve tried every damn door in the country. Plus, it’s sealed shut, and I don’t see you packing any shivs to open it.’ You sigh and squat down to the ground, holding your head in your hands for a second. You only open them once you realise the thudding sound you hear is Joel moving over towards the back wall of the pharmacy, straight towards where a huge mass of spasming, bloated fungi seems to be pulsating on the wall.
‘Are you out of your damn mind?’, you seethe, as Joel reaches into his backpack to strap his gas mask on.
‘On the contrary, I seem to be the only one in this room with any sense.’ Although his words seem to bite, you can hear the mocking tone drip through the crinkled words as they rasp out past the ventilator. Joel joins you in squatting down to the floor, although his movement is done a lot less gracefully and with a lot more complaining about sore joints. He moves the light away from where its strewn over the floorboards to land straight in the middle of the heaving mess, and the sight nearly makes you gag in shock.
‘Ugh, Jesus’, Joel mutters, his face contorting in disgust as he clenches his fist open and closed in preparation. The figure clenched into the wall in front of him was barely recognisable: it’s drooping face was now sprouting from behinds its eyelids, mouth open as if in a never-ending frozen scream, its lab coat caked in dried old blood that seemed to suggest he wasn’t the only one to die in this dank room. ‘Well, here goes nothing.’ Tentatively inching his hand forward, Joel waits for the poor bastard to come tearing off the wall and clamp its three teeth left around his fingers. Thankfully, both for his sake and your heart, which had decided to start pounding through your ears, Joel is successful in inching the infected’s hand out of the way. He reaches into the breast pocket, sighing in relief and turning towards round to your expectant face.
Perched between his thumb and pointer finger is the rusted tip of a key.
‘Bingo’, he whistles as he stands up, stretching out his back and clicking his spine back into place. You shake your head as he heads off, following him round the counter edge and butting him out of the way once he reaches the back door. Shaking the handle one more time for good measure, you nab the key out of his hand and ignore the cry of indignation he gives you.
‘It’s my stuff we need, so I go first. Those are the rules.’
You slot the key into the lock and give it a firm twist.
‘Absolutely not.’ You nearly jump when you feel Joel’s hand firmly clamp down on top of your own, effectively trapping you against the doorknob. You glare over at him, but feel the bitter remark you were about to whip out about how ‘he always puts himself in danger before me or Ellie’ dies on the tip of your tongue when you see how scared he looks.
‘I go first.’ You tut. The grip on your hand grows firmer. His breath hitches as he bends and takes a step closer to you. He’s so close now, you can feel the rapid air escape his nose and brush over the side of your cheek. For a moment, neither of you are able to move; you’re both caught in some invisible entanglement, some building consequence the two of you have never been brave enough to breach before, some kind of tender understanding. You nod your head, realising now just how earnestly the two of you had been dancing around it: how the whole time you had known each other, one was always preparing to die for the other.
‘Please...I go first.’ His gaze drops to your lips, and then to your nose, and then finally settles, for the first time in a while, firmly on your eyes. Unwavering. Resolute. He lurches forward on the balls of his feet, and for a second you think he’s either about to headbutt you or kiss you. Instead, he gently uses his side to butt you out of the way, before turning his efforts to shouldering the door open in three abrupt pushes.
He lurches in, the door giving way before he expected it and taking his feet out from under him. He rolls to the floor, grunting with the effort as he nearly side rolls straight into the side of an empty rack of shelves. With the light in the musty room as bright as a grave, you’re left trying to figure out where Joel has gone by the sound of an empty pill bottle rolling across the room.
‘Joel? Joel! Where the fuck are you?’, you whisper, reaching your arms out and crouching down to try and find him in the darkness. ‘Shit, is that you? Are you alright?’ You grip onto something soft and squishy, Joel’s leg? It seems clad in denim, although slightly torn, as if he had skinned his whole knee slamming against the floor.
You realised your mistake only a second too late. Instead of the welcome, gravelly honey voice of one Joel Miller, and perhaps even the calloused fingers cupping your cheeks before taking your own to lurch himself back up, you were met by the spitting shriek straight into your face. ‘Oh, fuck!’
You roll backwards, slamming the back of your head straight into an iron railing. ‘Oh, doubley fu-’ Your shout is muffled by fingernails scraping over your forehead, a hand grasping onto your face and digging in until you could feel blood begin to run down the bridge of your nose. Grappling with your hand, you simultaneously try to pitch your knee up to stop the clicker from completely detaching from the wall and clambering on top of you, and wrestling past its bumpy elbow to reach the knife stuck behind your back. Gnashing teeth leaves drool dripping down onto your neck, and you groan with the effort of trying to stop them from tearing a chunk out of your jugular.
You finally manage to grasp onto the hilt of your knife, trying to lift up your backside to slide it out of your pocket and straight into the skull of the infected on top of you. It doesn’t matter though. A second later, it feels as if molten is being poured in gushes down onto your bare skin; you stifle a shudder as the blood leaks out from the clicker’s eye sockets and sprays over your shoulder blades. You squint, just about managing to make out the outline of Joel’s clenched teeth and furrowed brow as he pulls the crowbar he had managed to find out of the thing’s skull. Pushing it to the side, it flops unceremoniously onto the floor.
‘Jesus...’, you warble out, still slightly in shock that you had come so close to the end right there and then. So clumsily close. So stupidly.
Joel doesn’t give you a chance to finish your thought. You swear it must have hurt when he threw himself down onto the ground, not even pretending to be calm and collected as he comes sliding on his knees over to you.
‘Are you hurt?’
‘H-huh?’
His hands are shaking as they reach up to roam over your face, his movements rapid and rushed and so carelessly unlike him that it only winds you deeper into your confused stupor. Before this - sure, he may have been concerned, but it was always hidden behind a thick wall of confidence and level headedness. But this, this was different. He was gripping onto the sides of your face as if the skin was about to peel away from your body in front of him; he was trembling in the way only a man marred by ghosts could be. As the flashlight blinked across the floor, the glass smashed into fractured shoots by Joel’s fall, all his mind can see with each glare is Sarah suspended in front of him.
‘Are you hurt?’ His voice is shaking as he speaks, tilting your face back and forth as if he’s scanning you for any scrabs and bites, yet his fingers are moving too quickly to truly take any of you in.
‘I’m fine, I’m fine. I just, ah-’, you cup his hands and bring them to rest within your own, both of you using each other’s weight to try and lever yourselves to a standing position again. ‘I think my ankle is twisted slightly.’ You watch his eyes widen, and try your best to shoot him a reassuring smile despite how shaken you were feeling. ‘It’s alright, it’ll be fine once I shake it off. Especially since I see another med-pack over there.’ You let go of one of his hands to point past his shoulder, finally coming back to yourself when you spot another plastic box hanging, squished in between the pharmacist's desk and the wall.
Despite the elated glow that seems to suddenly gleam in your eyes as you hobble over bits of broken glass and clamber over the smashed up computer monitor, Joel doesn’t let go of you the whole way. Not even when you unclasp the lock and throw the lid back, tilting your head back and laughing in near hysteric delight when you see the full bottles still nestled in dust inside. They move from your hands, up your arms and around your shoulders, squeezing your biceps as the two of you make your way quietly back through the supermall and back out towards the hole to freedom.
‘Fuck me! I thought you guys were gonners for sure!’ For a second, as you glanced out and saw Ellie bent over with her hands on her hips with the relief of seeing the two of you dumbasses hobble back into view, you thought the young girl was going to collapse to the ground. Instead, she took a deep breath and turned back to you with a surprisingly serious look on her face. ‘Did you find any comics in there?!’
‘Are you kidding-’ Joel murmurs out with a huff, waving his hand at her in dismissal. Ellie only raises her hand in a shrug before flipping him off, but the two of them are both smiling as Joel offers you his hand. You take it easily, but before you drop down to the grass again, you surprise Joel Miller for about the third time that day.
Before he even has a chance to blink, you lean towards him and press your lips against the side of his stubbly cheek. His eyes widen, but even as you press a second, quicker kiss against his cheek, he seems too stoic to pull away. When you finally do, he raises two fingers up to the wet patch now gleaming on his skin, and looks at you with a rapturous confusion.
‘Thank you. For everything. For still being here’, is all you whisper with a final look back at him, before falling down through the sliver of dark orange that still falls like firelight between the breaks in the pine trees. Ellie welcomes you back energetically, nearly knocking you over with the speed in which she comes running towards you and wraps her arms around your midriff, squishing the side of her face into your chest.
Joel watches the two of you for a moment: the way Ellie looks up at you as if you were pure unbridled hope as she unlatches herself from you, the way you grab her hand and help her hop back up onto Callus’ back, coming to rest on the side of the saddle before animatedly falling into conversation with her, most likely checking up to make sure she was doing okay with all of this.
He blinks back the wistfulness from his eyes as he stands on the stone strewn crag of the building, the soft ground suddenly seeming so far away. As he watches you, he tries to figure out what he feels: love? Longing? Guilt? Before he even notices, he finds his gaze has drawn itself back down to his wrist, the shattered clock face seemingly staring him down and stifling whatever happiness he was trying to feel.
He covers it with his hands, rubbing his fingers over the side as if it were burning his skin and he couldn’t bear to carry the weight of it anymore. But then you call over to him, and Ellie waves her hand up and beckons him to come down with a bright grin and yell, and suddenly the heaviness seems to unburden, to unlatch its grip on his stomach.
Sure, the misery of his past still haunted him, still dragged behind his head as he jumped and landed on the ground with a thump. But as he slowly jogged back over to the two of you, the shadows were beginning to lift. The light was beginning to break through, and Joel Miller couldn’t remember feeling so bullishly light in all his life.
#the last of us#tlou hbo#joel miller#joel miller imagine#joel miller x reader#the last of us hbo#tlou#pedro pascal#tlou imagine#tlou hbo imagine#the last of us imagine#the last of us hbo imagine#ellie williams#joel tlou#joel tlou imagine#joel the last of us#joel the last of us imagine#x reader
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Seresinhangmanjake Masterlist
Hiya :) thank you for taking the time to read anything I write. If you like something (and are comfortable with sharing) let me know. It always makes my day! - ❤️ Lauren
ao3: Laureolive (if you see my writing anywhere else, please let me know)
I am trying a tag list so you can join by filling out this form, or you turn on notifications for this blog or @seresinhangmanjake-library if you would like to keep up with my writing. Many of these fics are 18+. If you are a minor, please do not read them.
Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist
Thorn (Expendables 3) Masterlist
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen Masterlist
The Daggers Moodboards (Top Gun: Maverick)
One shots:
Can’t Let You Go: When you and Jake broke up, it hurt both of you more than you could handle. Now, after three months of barely seeing or speaking to one another, Jake walks in on the surprise of seeing you in a wedding dress, and it brings past memories and ruined dreams to the surface.
Rather Be with You: Jake has been away for six months and he just hopes you waited for him.
It’s oh so Quiet: you are in a bad relationship, and you just want to be with Jake.
Just a Little Weak: You are Penny’s new bartender and she warns you to stay away from one particular pilot, so you do your very best to please your boss. It is only when Penny goes out of town for the summer, leaving you in charge of the bar, that the pilot finally makes his move, and you finally give in. 18+
Touch and Go: You and Jake had been sleeping together for months, and as sure as you were of your feelings for him, you were unsure of his for you. He, however, certainly knew how he felt about you, and after you decide to go on a long trip without telling him, he lets you know just exactly what’s on his mind. 18+
Lazy Mornings and Whatnot: After coming home from his last mission, Jake doesn’t want you to leave the bed and will do what he has to if it means insuring that you’ll stay, which leads to fluffy conversations.
Jealousy Game: You do a little experiment to try to make Jake jealous and it works, with unexpected consequences that change the way you thought the night would go. 18+
Jealous Jake and the Biting Problem; Jealous Jake and the Other Sleepover Buddy: You and Jake have a friends-with-benefits situation, but when he finds bite marks on you from another guy, he doesn’t handle it well.
Split: You break up with Jake because his actions make you question everything you’ve had between you, but he wants you to take him back.
A First and a Second: It’s soft Dad!Hangman from start to finish. And cute marriage stuff.
Wanting it all: Hangman ends up in the hospital from a very similar Phoenix/Bob/birds situation, and you suddenly regret keeping a big secret from him.
Drunken Words, Sober Thoughts: You and Jake had a history of flirting and occasionally kissing if too much time was spent at the bar, but it never went any further than that. One night, after showing up at your house and passing out on your couch, Jake wakes up the next morning only to learn he had drunkenly confessed his feelings for you.
Alive: After you get into an accident, Jake has a hard time coping with how close he was to losing you.
More Than What We Are: You and Jake are friends with benefits, and you have one rule: No feelings! Jake decides that rule doesn’t work for him anymore. 18+
Less Misery, More Company: Jake has feelings for you but you don’t believe it, so you play a little trick to get back at him for all of his flirtatious teasing. But that little trick fails miserably, and as the weight of your mistake settles in, you realize you owe him an explanation, one that requires you to admit some things you’ve long denied.
Back for More: Jake up and left you without explanation right before a mission. Now he’s returned wanting you back, but you want that explanation before you’ll be willing to let go of the pain and heartbreak from his sudden departure a month prior.
Scrapes and Bruises: When Rooster and Hangman get into a fight over you. Basically, Rooster is not thrilled about your relationship with Hangman, and their issues with one another bring up some fears of your own.
A Mission of Another Kind: Jake is assigned to a mission he did not think he would have to take part in, despite training for it with everyone else. Considering its high level of danger, you had been happy he hadn’t volunteered for it, until he came to your house one morning to tell you he had been assigned and would be leaving within the hour.
Drabbles:
He Doesn’t - Jake doesn’t do relationships...right?
Early - Jake’s a sweet boyfriend when reader gets her period.
Jake helps his drunk girlfriend
His Princess
“The bed is cold without you here”
Perfect for me, Baby - Jake is there for you when you have body-image concerns.
Get Me Through - Jake helps you through the death of a loved one.
Oh, Baby Universe: dad!Jake Seresin x female reader
Full Masterlist / Chronological Order Masterlist
You might not have been his girlfriend, but when you left town one night a month after sleeping together, it completely broke Jake’s heart. Now, a year later, you’ve returned and you’re not alone. You have a new little companion that just so happens to bear a startling resemblance to Jake.
Oh, Baby: Jake learns he’s a dad
In the Night: Jake has nightmares that you leave him again
His Girls: A domestic moment with dad!Jake
The Other Mother: your mother comes to town
Birthday Boy: It’s Jake’s B-Day and you have a special gift for him
It’s What You Make It: Jake’s mother makes an unexpected visit
And Honey, I’ll Make It All Okay: Jake’s Dad shows up.
Nothing Better than What We’ve Got: You’re finally ready to have a ring on your finger
I’ve Promised You Forever: Jake and his Honey are married
The Prequel:
Oh Honey: Part 1
What Once He Had: Part 2
Gone: Part 3
Related Fics (jump around in the timeline):
Everything and All of It: Reunion...stuff ;)
A Little Love: cuteness during a family grocery trip
Daddy Knows Best: Eve says her first word
Oh Wow: Flashback to when Jake first sees you
Methods of Love and Trust: Jake lets his mother babysit for the first time.
Jingle of The Bells: Eve is worried Jake won’t make it home for christmas
That’s Definitely a Name: Eve helps name her baby brother.
The Favorite: the Daggers meet Eve for the first time.
Drabbles:
Eve is upset when Jake has to leave
the rules of Disneyland
Eve learns about Baby #2
Eve’s got a new guy
First Night Home
AUs:
Your Way Back to Me: Oh, Baby AU. What if you didn’t return after Eve was born and it was decades later before you met Jake again? And how would he feel to find out his best student might be a bit closer to him than he initially believed?
Now that I have you (Part 2 of Your Way Back to Me)
Because You Stayed: What if you never left?
Moodboards:
Jake x Honey
Jake x Honey with Eve
Jake x Honey Elopement
Oh, Baby Wedding
Eve’s First Birthday
Coach Jake & Jake x Honey in Texas
Oh, Baby Christmas
Baby Boy
Extras:
Digital Daggers: Oh, Babies by @mamachasesmayhem
Series:
The One I Want
Jake “Hangman” Seresin x plus size!reader
Full Masterlist
Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.
Warnings: Judgment related to weight. Cursing. Fluff. Angst. Eventual smut (alluded to/or other). Self-esteem issues. Mentions of physical abuse. Traumatic past. Mention of death (no main characters).18+
Note: The Jake POV chapters are not necessary to read to understand or follow with the rest of the story!
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16
Part 3.5 (Jake POV)
Moodboards:
Jake Seresin x plus size!reader
Stolen Angel
Demon!Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader
Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he's a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.
Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Descriptions of blood and pain. Obsessive behavior. Eventual fluff and smut. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it's fine. I wrote that one too.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
Not your Type
Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Goth Girl!reader
Summary: Jake Seresin doesn’t usually have to try hard to get women, but the only woman to catch his attention in a long time doesn’t want anything to do with him.
Written in the form of sharing milestones of their relationship as it develops. For example - Day 1: the day they meet; Day 3x: the day they (...); Day 5xx: the day they (...); and so on.
Notes/Warnings: Unwanted flirty (in the beginning), fluff, probably eventual smut (18+), angst
Full Masterlist
Part 1 (Day 1 - Meeting)
Couples Moodboards
From Two to Four
Single dad!Jake Seresin x single mom!reader
Full Masterlist
Summary: a trip to the movie theater with your son becomes more eventful when you meet a man and manage to save his daughter’s birthday from being ruined.
warnings/notes: bad past relationships, cursing, fluff, eventual smut
Part 1, Part 2
Moodboards:
Family of Four
Girls Day
Beyond the Hills (College AU)
Full Masterlist
Summary: Technically, you and Jake Seresin have known each other for twelve years. All throughout your childhood education, you and Jake shared classes, lunch periods, homeroom teachers. It seemed if the opportunity for you to be in the same space arose, the universe made it happen. But you were not friends. Not enemies, either. Not much of anything to one another outside of the occasional class project partners. When high school ended you assumed you wouldn’t be seeing him any time soon, but then you find yourselves at the same college, and once again, forced together. It seems no matter where you go, Jake Seresin is there. But you are not the shy girl you were in your youth. You want to try things now; party, have fun, do things you’ve never done before, and suddenly, for reasons you don’t understand, Jake seems to take issue with your new choices.
Notes/Warnings: cursing, fluff, eventual smut, angst, typos I'm sure, underage alcohol use, jealousy, manipulation (not on Jake's part)
Intro sneak peek, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Signed Away (Arranged Marriage AU)
Full Masterlist
Summary: You find out about the contractual marriage your parents arranged with Jake’s when you were a baby. You’re plenty angered by it, but Jake doesn’t seem too bothered. He might even be happy.
Notes/Warnings: cursing, fluff, eventual smut, angst, contract marriage, loss of rights, feelings of being trapped, poor parent/child relationships.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Epilogue
Headcanons
Moodboards:
Signed Away Christmas
#top gun#top gun maverick#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you#jake seresin fic#top gun jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#hangman x reader#top gun hangman#jake seresin fanfic#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#rooster top gun#rooster x reader#bradley bradshaw x reader
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