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n7punk · 2 days

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"Our Love Is God" Fic Notes

OLIG finished off yesterday! For once I almost nailed the length, I was expecting 12 chapters but didn’t want to commit early on. HI I TRIED TO POST THIS SO MANY TIMES but apparently it was TOO MUCH TEXT in a single block and it wouldn't give me that error, I just had to GUESS because I knew that's been a problem before. Anyway. Here it is finally.

Playlist:

Obviously the West End and Off-Broadway cast recordings, but also I did still primarily use a separate curated playlist:

Good For You — Dear Evan Hansen (original Broadway cast)

The Worst Person Alive — G Flip

Ego Talking — Fletcher

Take Your Time — Chloe Moriondo

You Don’t Want Me Like That — Rachel Bochner & XANA

leave me for dead — GAYLE

pity — Charlotte Sands

Bodybag — Chloe Moriondo

spite — Charlotte Sands

butterflies — GAYLE

Tantrum — Charlotte Sands

Killbot! — Chloe Moriondo

LOVE IS A… — PVRIS

I Don’t Like The Quiet — The Haunt

Celebrity (Blood Bunny Version) — Chloe Moriondo

Doing Better — FLETCHER

Bad Girl — Daya

Not To Be Dramatic — Zoe Clark

My Perfect — Gen and the Degenerates

Often — Lauren Sanderson

Pretending — FLETCHER

Epilogue Life:

The original cast of Heathers played on stage for just over a year before most of them move on to other projects with the major cast change. Heathers (gay version) runs for about two years, going through two more cast changes, before closing. The original cast does go to see the new cast and cheer them on, but it is kind of weird to see someone else acting out a role that became like breathing to them. Overall the remake is taken very well but has just run its course by the time it ends. There will be another revival in a few years and it actually uses both the straight and gay versions of the musical between cast changes.

Catra carries Shot in the Dark for its entire two year run before it dwindles into a temporary retirement and gets revived with a new cast a few years later (same sets and such). She’s the defining lead for the show and obviously on the cast album. She’s really, really proud to have originated a magicat-led show and makes her new origination goal a sapphic role.

After Shot in the Dark, she takes a supporting role in another musical for eight months before leaving early to join Adora and Netossa on a new project. They don’t actually interact a lot in the show and aren’t love interests or anything, and they’ve long since learned to balance their careers while in different shows, but it does allow Adora to propose to her during final bow (with approval from Netossa). Adora tipped their parents off and they’re both in the audience to watch her say yes.

(Adora knew she was going to accept, hence the public proposal, and Catra’s relationship with her mom has gotten better now she’s a successful, independent adult. Also Felina would have been So Sad to miss it so Adora told them both). Oh also they moved in together as soon as their leases came up lmao.

Adora led one show in the mean time between Chicago and their show together, but it was smaller, not as demanding as Veronica, and she was really excited to hop on a project with Netossa and Catra again. She decides to make originating a gay role and collecting cast albums her career goal, in addition to getting in a few specific shows she and her mom looked up to when she was growing up. She already feels pretty fulfilled with her early career though and considers everything else the cherry on top.

Rest of the cast quick hits: Mermista plays Velma center stage in Chicago along with Adora. Fitting her braid in that wig cap is definitely a challenge lol. Sea Hawk starred in a Hello, Again short revival run which Catra and Adora were dying sitting through, but they support all their fellow cast members when they move on to new shows. Perfuma finally got up the nerve to ask Scorpia out on their very last night performing in Heathers together, getting her flowers and then revealing after the show — when everybody was already crying about it ending — they were from her. It was a very confusing confession until Perfuma was finally able to spell it out for her that she wanted to go on a date with her. Scorpia enthusiastically agreed (still crying before the whole “last show” thing), and then gushed to Catra later about how she couldn’t believe Perfuma liked her while Catra nearly tore her hair out listening to the obliviousness. Glimmer and Bow got to play a couple that were already-together side characters in a musical and that’s what finally gets them together because Bow realizes oh, I can’t risk losing this, and Glimmer is done trying to play the jealousy game because it clearly didn’t work and she doesn’t really have a flirty relationship with any of her new cast so they can finally just be honest with each other.

Chapter 1: Auditions

⦁ Things like homophobia and Christianity are usually world aspects I avoid in my fics, but they’re both present in the musical so they had to at least be mentioned in this.

⦁ Oh I should say this will have mentions of all the triggers warned for in the fic.

⦁ Adora and Catra both gave good but not necessarily the best auditions of the day separately. Catra’s was really good when she got permission to do it in her natural register and threw in a growl (she wasn’t actually audibly straining yet, but Netossa scouted her specifically for her voice and knew she was pushing it up near the top of her range), but her Candy Store was a little more uneven thanks to the lack of practice and register change. Adora did just fine in her regular song and really good in her Beautiful reprise, but there were people that did sing a little better technically. That doesn’t mean they would have been better over the course of the show itself, though, and what Catra and Adora had going for them was it looked like they were considering involving fists (the sexy or the fighting kind, take your pick) the moment they were on stage together. They eyefucked their way through both songs with such insane chemistry Netossa was like oh we can sell Fight For Me with these two EASY.

⦁ (Fight For Me is the second song in the musical where Veronica basically see JD in a fistfight and thinks it’s so fucking hot she immediately falls for him, and then they actually spend time together and it seems like they have similar views of the high school around them. And they do! But they definitely have very different solutions. Anyway, it’s a quick romance plot setup that doesn’t pretend not to be based solely on sexual attraction at first but that works and is realistic! The actors just need to have chemistry to make it read right, and damn do Catra and Adora have that).

⦁ Okay, every Veronica has been pretty, but there was some metric that made them not perfect conventional. For the first two Veronicas this was pretty much being brunette with messy hair lmao. For the West End, Veronica was played by Carrie Hope Fletcher, who I think is gorgeous and has blonde curly hair, but she faced a lot of backlash for being “too fat” to play Veronica. Adora is close to the Hollywood ideal, which is the point Netossa is trying to make: someone who could play Heather Chandler in one version of this show ends up the Veronica because she commits the sin of not meeting society’s hetereonormative expectations. Bigots will throw you out for any association with queerness. However, still meeting all those other metrics is what allows her to slip in with the Heathers as long as she helps them out and dresses femme — that’s part of her transformation, going from jeans in the opening number to skirts for the rest of the musical until the final sequence. When show starts, she’s wearing jeans and a ratty flannel with her hair in a ponytail. It’s a quick change outfit, so she runs behind the set to pull it off to reveal her main outfit beneath, brushes her skirt into place, and lets Netossa fix a scrunchy with a big bow on it on top of her existing ponytail to complete her transformation into a feminine popular girl.

⦁ “Janis Dean” is a reference to Mean Girls, and yes, that’s in-universe.

⦁ Catra got the casting call specifically because Netossa needed someone to match JD’s register — plus the growls in the right places added a lot of emotions to his songs. Including the sex ones.

⦁ Changes in Netossa’s version: - The aforementioned “Pretty Veronica” thing. When the Heathers give her the makeover she puts on the iconic skirt and has to wear skirts for the rest of the show, performing femininity in every extra way she can, to make up for her “deviance” of being bi (also, she’s bi. It’s another thing where any degree of deviation is grounds for rejection). - The line delivery (and some content) has been tweaked for the fatphobic stuff to match the changed metanarrative that comes from Scorpia, someone who isn’t actually overweight, playing Martha. The commentary then becomes that nothing is good enough and society’s fatphobia is thrown into light as completely unreasonable. The whole point of that aspect of the show is that it illustrates how awful the characters are, but genuine fatphobia and using it as a plot device to show a character is morally corrupt looks awful similar, so by having someone who is basically just tall and strong play Martha it makes it extremely obvious that the demands are unreasonable. This ties in well with Heather M’s story, where she does have that model body type and is pretty and popular but develops an eating disorder because she’s afraid of losing that. - Obviously a lot is different with JD. She “chooses” to be a lone wolf/outcast because of her personality and views on society, but there’s obvious undertones in their dialogue in the 7/11 that even if she did want to choose differently, she couldn’t because she would be rejected for being a dyke, so is she really making a choice at all then? She goes by JD specifically because it’s more gender neutral than Janis. She couldn’t ever be a Heather and she couldn’t even be a Veronica either, because Veronica could at least be comfortable putting on a matching skirt with her friends while this JD is butch, so she hangs out in her trench coat at the fringes of society. There’s also undertones to her being the only magicat in school due to her father moving around and not caring if he brought her into a hostile — conservative, racist, homophobic, etc — area. - Heather M. is only in with the popular girls for safety and there’s some dialogue around this in the bathroom scene with Veronica. It’s kind of public information (not officially stated but implied in her social media) that her actress, Perfuma, is trans. This wasn’t planned at the time of the casting call, but Netossa worked on it during workshops and the backstory became that Heather M started transitioning how she could before high school and is continuing to “in secret” now. Some people have clocked her though and she sticks so close to the other Heathers to keep herself from being the target of terrible bullying. As long as the Heathers tolerate her (Heather C is on a bit of an ego trip about having blackmail material on her and essentially owning someone in the palm of her hand), she’s given a pass and “has the best (cishood) assumed” about her. - Veronica and JD’s relationship is a little more secretive in this version, but the Heathers do know and Duke later tell her to just be careful not to “dyke it up” at school or they would out her (currently she’s just kind of clocked by some, not confirmed to the whole school). After Heather C’s death, Duke basically threatens Veronica to stay at her heel like Heather M or she’ll out them both.

Chapter 2: Workshop

⦁ You would have to be fucking blind to not realize Adora and Catra have history even in the glances of them Netossa and Spinnerella saw, and Netossa spent the first part of workshop trying to unpack whatever was going on with them. She had to put together the clues to figure out what it was. Once she decided exes was a likely story, she confronted Catra about it because she figured talking about it was the only way to handle the resentment. She was partially using reverse psychology and partially being honest about not resolving all of it being good for the show.

⦁ I made Freeze Your Brain more homoerotic. In the musical, JD does his entire song facing Veronica or walking around the stage and then offers the drink to her at the very end. He does not get in close and offer her the drink and then sip from it after her in an indirect kiss with her lipstick prints on the straw, but mine’s better.

⦁ In the actual show, Heather Chandler doesn’t put on any death makeup. The Off-Broadway would shine a blue light on her after she died to give her an other-worldly appearance and the West End didn’t seem to do anything at all, which was a mistake imho. In this one, when she “rises from the dead”, she does it a bit more dramatically and zombie-like under a blue light, and then she on-stage reaches over for her vanity and starts powdering her face, looks back at Veronica and says “What? I want to look good for eternity” and finishes as Veronica and JD write the rest of the suicide note before collapsing so the cops can find her.

Chapter 3: Previews

⦁ Once again changing the staging for my version (jokes on you, this isn’t just a Catradora fic, it’s me writing my ideal version of Heathers). Usually Heathers has some kind of bi-level stage. This one has catwalks hidden along the backs of the lockers, but they also have more sets. They have house facades they slide in front of the high school set/lockers for the croquet scene (Freeze Your Brain is the closest song) through to Heather’s murder, sliding them away again for The Me Inside of Me. They come back for Our Love Is God, although the second level with JD’s window isn’t brought back until the very end of the show. Kurt tries to climb the same trellis Adora used to get into JD’s window to escape JD as he chases him down. The full facade doesn’t come back until it’s time for Meant To Be Yours so JD can climb through Veronica’s window (that was once his). It is wheeled out as the entire stage narrows in on the center stage for the pep rally and finale.

⦁ Veronica doesn’t rebutton her shirt until after the nightmare scene in the West End version (I honestly can’t remember for off-Broadway), but for this show Adora just isn’t super comfortable hanging out shirtless in front of crowds every night, especially knowing some people are perverted about the lesbian version of Dead Girl Walking, so Netossa said buttoning her shirt and putting her clothes back on before they fall asleep was fine back when they were deciding what Catra was going to do since JD rips his shirt off undoes his buckle during this scene. Adora could have done it (she wears the bodysuit for Mona, after all), but Netossa didn’t mind making that small tweak for her. Catra cared less, but also because she’s not in the kind of underwear that straight guys like. They decided she would have a high-coverage sports bra, the kind that can pass for a binder, on (for this scene and for the entirety of the show since Janis Dean is supposed to be firmly butch). Catra does most of JD’s usual choreo here, minus the belt thing, because they do the version of the choreo where they never stand up and Catra isn’t wearing a belt at all.

Chapter 4: Candy Store

⦁ No wonder she was what way indeed, huh, Catra? Well, multiple. No wonder she was so frustrated, because Catra is infuriating when she wants to be. No wonder she was so hung up on her, because Glimmer also wants to fuck her inexplicably. No wonder she lived and breathed the word homoerotic, because Catra made sure they lived on the razer edge of it at all times. No wonder she was down bad, because again — see the last two point. This line is less of an insult and more of Catra being too magnetic for anybody’s good, honestly, but that annoys Glimmer because she doesn’t want to like her (like that, or at all) so it definitely comes out like an insult and Glimmer is good with that.

⦁ I need you to picture Catra’s “What?” after the brat comment in the same tone of voice as Elle Woods saying “What, like it’s hard?” because Catra definitely wants it hard.

Chapter 5: We Can Start and Finish Wars

⦁ I was nervous about doing this scene just from a trigger perspective, but I figured it would be okay if I kept it all contained to this one chapter, and it was something I really wanted to cover. It was my first thought when I heard You’re Welcome (since it was a new song). I also wanted to explore the support a cast really gives. You don’t have to improvise every night or anything, but there’s always something that pops up over a show and you have to adapt for when you’re doing shows night after night. This is why casts really have to have each others’ backs and are often close. Every person on that stage would have done what they could to help Adora get through the show, but Catra, Bow, and Sea Hawk were the only ones who could have helped in that specific scenario due to their roles, and Adora was good enough at covering it up that only her best friends noticed.

⦁ This chapter was a turning point for them between the lines with the show and reality blurring and Catra realizing (though trying to repress it) how important Adora is to her.

⦁ They do workshop a version of the scenes where Kurt and Ram just don’t come as close in contact to Adora and end up being even more slapstick with each other in place of the more aggressive choreography moments, and during Never Shut Up Again they don’t even come close to Veronica, instead running around the stage to tell the audience/school. They only use it once on Adora’s signal, and Bow voluntarily opts for it once based on vibes and Sea Hawk immediately adapts, but Netossa is right: it’s a good thing to have, and she’s really glad Adora agreed to collaborate on something.

⦁ This last scene wraps up the rest of the show to verify it goes well, but it’s mostly here just to showcase Good Director™️ Netossa. She really cares about her people a lot even when she’s a hard ass.

⦁ Adora doesn’t keep up too much with comments due to what she mentions about knowing there will be homophobia in them, but she’s not totally tuned out on them and a long flood of notifications still draws attention. After this time she becomes more committed to not reading them much, though.

⦁ Yes they’re going to the same dinner place featured later.

⦁ While out at dinner, Glimmer and Bow try to ask her how she’s doing and she gives them an even more abridged version of what she told Netossa and Catra because she just doesn’t want to think about it anymore, but of course Glimmer and Bow are super supportive, and Bow is really enthusiastic about them choreographing an alternate version of the scene because he just wants Adora to be okay and is proud of her for taking that step.

Chapter 6: No Time to Knock (I’m a Dead Girl Walking)

⦁ Chapter title from DGW

⦁ Dead Girl Walking honestly didn’t look that different that night, and Netossa did miss them making out after the lights went down because she was scrambling looking for a scrunchy, but she could tell Catra was going further with the choreo than she was supposed to, especially with the kiss during the kitchen scene when Netossa had given up looking for it until the show was over, and in a situation like that Adora couldn’t say no or stop her without changing the intent of the scene, hence Netossa threatening Catra about the consent issue despite how Adora didn’t seem upset. It’s just something she has to do as director. I ended up reducing it to a one-sentence mention later in the fic, but I thought about having a scene where, after a few nights of them kissing on stage, Netossa goes to Catra’s dressing room and asks her if Adora ever gave her permission for that, to which Catra says yes she’s fine with that, and Netossa corrects her and says did Adora ever give you verbal, explicit permission for that at which point Catra goes quiet and Netossa then demands she go to Adora’s dressing room and secure it before she’s allowed to leave for the night. Cure Catra awkwardly standing in Adora’s doorway asking Adora if it’s okay for them to kiss during the show as Netossa stands down the hall and waits for her. Adora was very bewildered but could tell Catra was being put up to it from the way she kept glancing to the side so she just agreed because she didn’t want them to get in trouble and Catra quickly fled. It just didn’t even up fitting in the flow of the story because it meant verbally acknowleding what they were doing earlier than they were supposed to so that’s why I changed it to Netossa privately asking Adora instead of forcing a confrontation, which is the better thing for Netossa to do anyway rather than force Adora to deal with it if she really were uncomfortable (the reason she did it in this version of the scene was because she was 100% certain it didn’t bother Adora but was doing her duty as director).

Chapter 7: Happiness Comes / When Everything Numbs

⦁ Chapter title from Freeze Your Brain.

⦁ Forever thinking about ND’s “and it was” comic.

⦁ Real shoutout to the person who informed me about the official stage recording of the later version of the West End Heathers because I definitely did not remember any of the dialogue outside of songs and it let me take notes to write scenes like the croquet scene, which is like 50% similar to the one that actually takes place in the musical. A lot of the dialogue not overtly related to Veronica’s queerness is the same, but a little bit of the action was changed around to extend the scene for the extra dialogue and include using an actual ball, because Glimmer being frighteningly accurate at hitting things with a giant mallet felt right.

Chapter 8: Fight For Me

⦁ Heather tries to get Veronica to admit she’s into girls so much so that she can have blackmail over her to keep her in line, although she doesn’t actually need her to admit it, she just knows Veronica would be more afraid of the threat whenever she makes it if Veronica is aware it’s something Heather has 100% confirmed to be true.

⦁ I didn’t include it because I didn’t want to have to cover every scene with differences in here, but in the 7/11 Heather bothers Veronica more about clearly being into girls and is mildly homophobic to JD. Then, in the scene after Dead Girl Walking and Veronica’s nightmare, as Veronica is freaking out about getting to Heather and making amends before Monday, she tells JD in clear terms “She’s going to out me and tell the school I’m bi” which is what Adora was referring to in chapter three when she mentions this version of the musical having the word bisexual in the opening act.

⦁ I know what y’all are going to think this was inspired by, but it’s actually inspired by a fucking Try Guys Korean bbq video where they went karaokeing afterwards. I’ve never been to a karaoke place like that and it got me thinking.

Chapter 9: Big Fun!

⦁ When the show started, Bow and Sea Hawk were both given like packs of the exact same underwear (one in blue variants, one in red variants, and one in black variants) so they could match throughout the show. It’d be easier to coordinate if it was all the same pair, but they wanted the variety for people who came to multiple shows. They actually have a lot of fun coordinating and then, on their own, decided to get a pair of those classical heart-print boxers that they throw in occasionally. Sometimes that’s just based on a day when they don’t want to wear something as revealing as the tighty-whities they usually wear, but usually it’s as a gag.

⦁ It was too awkward to shoe-in here, but part of reworking the choreography around You’re Welcome included the decision to have robes backstage for Bow and Sea Hawk, which they don’t often use, but if it’s a night where Adora is getting overwhelmed intermission is a lot more comfortable if Bow and Sea Hawk aren’t wandering around naked. Sea Hawk’s has feathers along the collar and cuffs.

⦁ Glimmer’s best friends all have abs and she has no idea how sharp her elbows can be.

⦁ Glimmer did realize she was flying a little too close to the sun with Adora if she responded to Catra’s flirting.

⦁ Yeah Catra brought her strap.

⦁ Catra was just a little tired during that show, so she asked Entrapta for some of the drain cleaner as a pickup since it has a lot of sugar, and she was taking a few seconds to rest before she had to go be feral on stage again.

⦁ When I first told my friend Meta I was doing a Heathers fic, Catra downing the fake drain cleaner like shots was one of the first jokes they made and I had to include it.

⦁ Adora thinks there is — a chance — that Catra wants to be dating after this exchange where she says it’s not “a problem”, but she’s definitely worried about saying anything too soon or too presumptive and scaring her off, so she’s just going to lowkey keep acting like they’re seeing each other and hope Catra will open up enough for them to have a conversation about it eventually.

⦁ The people at stage door the night they got “dinner”, and the night they actually got dinner, and the night they went home together, all definitely thought they were dating but only the ones from the first night even thought that might be news. The girl who was a big fan of Catra kept it to herself and her friends, but one half of the couple publicly tweeted the picture they got with Catra and Adora that night mentioning they got to take photos before they went off on a date, but that picture didn’t make its way back to Catra because she wasn’t tagged in it and not that many people “noticed” per se. Final bow was when everyone was like ah so there is something fruity going on there, but even then a lot of people weren’t sure, and it’s something that just got solidified over the coming months as they were seen together more, kissed in public, got a little sappy on Instagram, etc and everyone retroactively realized they were right.

Chapter 10: Beautiful

⦁ Usually the chapter titles are either lyrics that match the chapter or a song that features in a chapter, but in the case of “Beautiful”, it was a thematic match. Beautiful features Veronica picturing her future and the next phase in her life. For this chapter Catra is also exploring her future and her next steps. And also she’s gay for Adora.

⦁ The First Contact scene started as a Mass Effect joke (iykyk) and then I ended up including it. I honestly thought I was going to cut it because it’s kind of random but the point was to show how long they’ve known each other and they have their own world of games and jokes that they lost when they lost each other, so I ended up keeping it.

⦁ Cheekbone > Clavicle > Cupid’s bow (aka Achimenes longiflora) > Gums (aka Alveolar process).

⦁ Catra freezes up after Adora asks what she gets for a good show because she can’t bring herself to say “Me.”

⦁ Shot in the Dark is one of the episodes of the show I’ve rewatched the most, when they find Melog and Catra learns about the power of friendship. The musical was either going to be called that or White Out tbh (real ones know my relationship with that episode) but Catra is playing a magicat specifically in this role so going with the Melog episode felt right.

Chapter 11:

⦁ The blanket came from Lance, actually.

⦁ What’s my ideal choreography for Meant To Be Yours? So glad you definitely asked. This scene is usually presented so abstractly I don’t think someone unfamiliar with the musical/movie would even know Veronica is hiding in her closet. My ideal version (with the staging already set up in this play) is the house facade with the window being rolled in on one side of set (only one just cuz there isn’t time) and JD appearing on the other side of the window (with the light off so it’s more like he’s creepy in the dark) and doing his knock knock thing. Veronica in the middle of the stage panics and runs to the back of center stage, where it’s carefully choreographed for the ghosts (Kurt and Ram) to be rolling in an open doorframe that she runs through and Heather slams behind her. Then Kurt and Ram would lean against each side of the doorframe making fed up and “can you believe this dude?” faces at each other as JD has his whole villain speech in center stage before going to pound on the door and finally wrenching it open to reveal Veronica hanging on the other side with Heather kind of “in the corner” making a comedic fake shock face looking between JD and Veronica as JD breaks down. When he leaves and Veronica struggles to get down for a second, Heather would roll her eyes and help as Kurt and Ram wheel off the door and then quickly move the house facade off stage as it transitions to Dead Girl Walking (Reprise).

Chapter 12:

⦁ My idea for this AU was that Catra would have a “stage mom” and then their acting coach would have been Shadow Weaver to get that Trauma Backstory™️, which means Catra needed actual parents. I already had the pair from Trade Today For Tomorrow, so I wasn’t going come up with a new set of names, but it does feel kind of wrong to have changed Leona to be a “bad” mom. In general, if/when I do use them again, I’ll be using their TTFT personalities. Also, in this AU Leona isn’t awful or anything, but she really wanted to be an actress and it didn’t work out so she has been pushing her child in that direction even when it was painful, which gave them a tense relationship. Most of my other Catras would be thrilled to have parents like this, but Catra doesn’t have that context for None or Very Bad parents, so she’s just another person with an awkward relationship with her parents and doesn’t think about it too much.

⦁ Catra used to spend Christmas ever at Adora’s house and then Christmas at her own/moms’ when they were kids.

Chapter 13:

⦁ My original idea for a childhood dream musical was to stick Adora in Wicked because you know Mara is a sucker for that show, but for mezzo-soprano it’s mainly Elphaba, and the whole point was giving her a role that wasn’t lead. I settled on Chicago because something LGBT is happening in that prison and I think Mara and Hope would both like the show. Adora is going to play Mona in Chicago, a fairly minor character who gets a solo verse in Cell Block Tango when describing why she killed her lover for cheating on her. She appears (namelessly) in more songs but also gets off-stage time, and that song is absolutely ICONIC, so Adora is really excited to get to take part in it, even if it’s pushing the absolute limits of her dancing ability. She does a lot of practicing leading up to the show, so Catra is worried for a bit about her getting too busy and their relationship faltering about, but it balances out after the initial push. Adora’s moms are super psyched when they hear she’s going to be in the show and the marketing team ends up releasing the Broadway cast’s version of Cell Block Tango online at the open of the show to drum up hype for it, so Adora really hits one of her big career dreams — though still with room to grow, if she can get it with a larger role and a full album. This role shows her that headlining isn’t all there is to musical theater, though, and having smaller parts can really by worth it for the off-time.

⦁ Uh so. Mona’s outfit. The outfits for the inmates in Cell Block Tango are usually pretty close to lingerie. Adora has a bodysuit, because it works for the song and she’s more comfortable being covered in something skintight than just wearing two pieces, but it’s still quite a Lot for her parents to see it. They know what they’re in for though and everybody just neglects to address it after the show when they praise her voice. Catra loves Adora in the outfit though.

⦁ Based on my previous formatting Shot in the Dark, Chicago, and Hello, Again should actually just be written out without italics, but because the nature of the titles (length and formatting) make it confusing without italics and clunky with quotes, so I ended up just being inconsistent between them and Heathers.

Original Outline:

I outlined this one pretty heavily going into it, in the way I used to for my fics where I’d write like a one-sentence summary of every scene planned in a chapter going in. Of course, I knew I would add and change scenes as I went, but I was pretty faithful to the outline outside of additions. I was outlined out to chapter 8 but thought it would expand to about 12 chapters between the ending I hadn’t outlined (I needed to be closer to it to know what the right conclusion was) and scenes adding themselves in along the way to up the count, and I finally put that count on the fic when I was writing chapter 10 or so, but then I realized I fucking forgot about the cast album and I got the idea for the bar scene so all of Chapter 12 ended up getting added and expanding it to 12 chapters.

The only “big” thing that didn’t happen was the catnip thing, which was mostly a joke I outlined anyway, but it was just too much from several angles so I cut it before I finished it. The idea was someone pulling a prank on Catra by putting catnip on her vanity and getting her lowkey high. Non-destructively pulling something on a castmate’s dressing room is pretty common antics, but this felt… very targeted and tense even though the castmate was doing it fairly innocently and just ignorant of that angle to it, so I didn’t want to go through with it. Catra was going to corner Adora though and demand if she fucked with her dressing room, and when Adora was obviously confused by the confrontation, fall into her arms and aggressively scentmark her even as she growled explaining the vandalism, which Adora offered to clean up for her and let her use her dressing room to change so she didn’t get more exposure to it. Again, the “getting a castmate a little high” thing, even accidentally (they didn’t realize it had much of an effect) was just not a line I — or the cast — wanted to cross, though.

Upcoming:

The 4th anniversary SPOP Big Bang is going to run May 12th-18th and I’ll be posting daily for the first few days with my magical realism AU Lightbeam along with my amazing artist partner who made an illustration for every chapter! Keep an eye out for it :)

#olig #ficmeta #fic notes

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fixing-bad-posts · 6 months

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Okay now get angry at...

#there were too many for me to decide which one to post lol!#have a photo dump of various things i'm angry at!#fixingbadposts #fixing-bad-posts #miscellaneous

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quinn-pop · 2 months

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yet another oc that only exists because i wanted to write something very specific

(middle is a little older, hence her scar healing. i like to think she gets a glass eye at some point)

anyway this is mira! (they/she) since that wip is almost 20k words and counting i won’t give away too much but long story short she’s the result of meta going “one last time, i promise” and adopting yet another kid

also galaxia kinda indirectly picked the name :)

i’ve mentioned before that i headcanon that pretty much all astrals are autistic and this is just kinda an extension of that. whereas meta tends to suppress his emotions and conform to others, mira…doesn’t. she gets uncomfortable and upset and lashes out at people easily, and working through their emotions is no small task.

the main reason i chose to write them that way was for the sake of narrative but i’ve grown attached to it because there’s a lot of ideas there i’d like to explore. stuff about navigating emotions and relationships when existing is so suffocatingly uncomfortable. it’s not something i could center around Kirby himself, but i think it makes sense with a post character development meta knight.

they are very loved (omg oldee cameo???)

kirby was definitely very excited to have younger siblings after being used to being the youngest in the room for so long!! (with the like. one and only exception being gooey.) he’s super affectionate with both of them and wants to have a close relationship one day, but for now mira is pretty unappreciative of that fact lol. they don’t like being pestered for hugs

everyone else is okay tho

(i know that’s hard to read. oops. “obvious bite marks”. siblings being siblings.)

mira also has a very love/hate relationship with the egg kid, being so close in age they kinda Have to get along but in typical sibling nature they also fight a lot. sure it’s probably rough for a while but i think in the end they’d be good buddies. maybe not as close as Kirby and Bandee but still.

anyway i have a lot of thoughts and am very busy but. i’m really enjoying writing about all this lately it’s been fun ^^

#I picked a name and then proceeded to write a comic in pen in which i used that name and posted it #and only after all that did i learn that mira is becoming a very popular name. which i generally avoid #but oh well. it’s stuck #im gonna be completely honest a lot of how i pick names for characters is based off of how many puns i can make out of it #im sorry to disappoint you with that information /j #kirbyposting #my art or something #meta knight #kirby #king dedede #metadede #Kirby oc #semi future au #I swear i’ll introduce oldee one day im just bad at having drawing ideas #also trying very hard to not make self deprecating comments over some of this art cause i just. don’t really want to spend forever redrawing #stuff anymore. like I used to do for a lot of these posts. It’s whatever #anyway kinda a part two to yesterday’s post (as in: I made sure they were both ready at the same time so i could queue them together lol)#weirdly enough this isn’t all that different from my dmk interpretation #i can’t really decide what color she is either #part of me wants to say bright blue red eyes because i think that would look absolutely sick but that seems like a bit too much blue #all things considered #maybe bright yellow blue eyes idk ill figure it out later (maybe)

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jamminvroomvroom · 6 months

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777.

ln x fem!reader

in which lando has a wild week in vegas

on a bit of a roll whoops! had to write something slutty for vegas week/lando’s birthday so here it is! enjoy my loves and please please pleeeeease tell me what you think! 🎲💘 have literally been thinking about this since vegas was announced and i couldn’t stop listening to silk sonic lol

posting this with the @lavenderlando seal of approval 🫡🤍

inspired loosely by 777 by silk sonic

warnings: 18+ minors dni i am so serious!! listen it’s smut. it’s a lot lot lot of smut. alcohol, swearing, fuckboy!lando, one night stand vibes, choking, unprotected sex, general sex acts, some kinky shit, fluff, minor angst bc lando is a moody little shit

5k words

lando had gotten used to the taste of champagne.

the golden bubbles had grown on him over the course of the season, they tasted like success. so, he didn’t protest when several magnums showed up at the round table, some ridiculous happy birthday remix being blasted over the casino speakers.

it was the night of his 24th birthday, and the drinks hadn’t stopped flowing. he was surrounded by his friends, max and ash joining him, as well as the drivers that had arrived in vegas. the crisp white sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows by now, midnight fast approaching, the material half unbuttoned.

they’d started the night in a bar, drowning in a river of alcohol, and now they were in a casino, one of many on the strip. it was all a bit predictable, kitschy decor everywhere he looked since he’d arrived in las vegas, but that’s what made it iconic. the tackiness seemed to mesh well with the old money vibe, and lando knew this would be a birthday to remember.  

everything was mahogany, gold or red. nothing didn’t twinkle in the lights. his suit jacket was slung over his shoulder, curls messy already from the light breeze of november in the desert. his cheeks were champagne rosy, the alcohol going straight to his head and he felt so fucking good.

everyone toasted to the birthday boy, slot machines rattling in the background. lando didn’t usually enjoy this sort of environment, but he was too drunk to care, deciding to embrace the insanity of his life and live on the edge for one night.

he found himself hunched over a gaming table, fingers drumming against the green felt. his eyes scanned the embroidery, taking in the game that was being played. blackjack, he assumed. this really wasn’t his type of place.

by then, as if by some sort of divine intervention, it was.

a flash of red. a swish of hair. manicured nails on a martini glass.

suddenly blackjack seemed like the best fucking game in the world.

lando couldn’t look away from you.

you were stood right opposite him, drink in hand, red satin draping over every curve of your frame. the dress seemed to cover everything, and nothing at all, perfect for the environment you were in. it was daring, enticing, and lando sure liked being enticed.

from the very second he laid eyes on you, he was picturing what you’d look like against a clean, white bedspread, how his name would sound rolling off your tongue in the form of a desperate whimper. it was a crude thought, but he’d become a crude man.

things had changed a lot since his last breakup. he was messy, leaving a trail of clothes and kisses across every country he stepped foot in. he didn’t get off on the number of people he’d slept with, he got off on the rush of someone new, and he knew before he’d even touched down in vegas, a week earlier than he needed to, that this would probably be the messiest week of his life.

but then he saw you, and it felt weird. he didn’t just want to learn your name and bend you over the nearest surface, gone from your bed before the sun was even in the sky. he was addicted at first sight; he had to take you home, at the very least.

his fixation on you was broken by the dealers voice; it seemed like you were up to play next and you needed at least another player. lando’s eyes flitted back to you, wondering if he even knew how to play blackjack before he offered himself up to you on a glaring shiny platter. you took the decision away from him, because this time, you were staring right back at him.

internally, he was choking on air. externally, he was mentally undressing you with a filthy smirk on his face.

“wanna play, birthday boy?” you smiled coyly, an eyebrow quirked seductively. he could have fallen right to his knees at just the sound of your voice. sweet and spicy.

lando realised that you’d seen the embarrassing display the boys had put on for him. maybe you even knew who he was. he definitely wanted to know who you were, and that’s why he decided to give in to your electric stare.

“you’re on.”

he lost.

every. single. game.

numbers were never lando’s thing.

it was hard to care, though, when he had you sprawled out on the desk of his hotel room, his lips all over your neck.

the walk from the casino up to his room had been short, a bottle of champagne in his left hand and the curve of your ass in his right. there’d been very little small talk, very little convincing needed to seduce you, not with the way you’d been eye-fucking from opposite sides of the table, cards laid bare before you both.

he’d kissed you in the elevator, sloppy and desperate, pressed you against the door to his suite, and quickly pinned you to the other side of it once you were finally inside. you tasted like fruit liquor and cigarettes, your dress slowly bunching at your hips as his hands roamed the silky material. lando was restless, craving everything you had to offer, so he picked you up effortlessly, spreading his palms across the back of your thighs.

it had been a short walk to the desk from the door, and he placed you down carefully. lando slid the dress up your thighs, his finger grazing your calf as he did. you were arching into him, pushing his jacket off his frame and frantically tugging at the buttons of his dress shirt until it was hanging undone off his shoulders.

the look in your eyes sent his blood rushing, frenzied and desperate for him as much as he was for you. taking your jaw in his hand, he tilted your chin towards him until you were looking up at him through your lashes. lando tucked your hair behind your ear, continuing to graze down your neck until he reached the flimsy strap of your dress.

“are you gonna let me have you?” his grip on your jaw tightened and he studied your face.

he gulped when your lips twisted into a smile, conniving, dangerous, red lipstick smudged deliciously. you hadn’t caved into his touch, fallen into submission, and suddenly lando was swimming way out of his depth.

it seemed he’d finally met his match.

you pushed him away, giggling as he stumbled backwards towards the bed, and stood from your place on the desk. slowly, you made your way towards him, until you’d backed him up all the way to the foot of the bed, at which point he collapsed. he scrambled up onto his elbows, smirking up at you.

your eyes raked over his frame, swollen lip caught between your teeth. he looked disheveled in the best way, shirt framing lean sun kissed skin.

slowly, you unzipped your dress, letting it fall off your frame. the material pooled at your feet and you stepped out of it carefully, kicking it away. lando had moved up the bed so that he was sitting against the headboard, watching you hungrily. you were left bare, aside from a lacy thong and red stilettos. lando could have cried tears of joy.

happy fucking birthday.

lando’s eyes lit up like 777 had spun onto a slot machine. he may have lost at blackjack but he’d definitely hit the jackpot.

you crawled onto the bed towards him, not stopping until you were sat on his lap. his hands scaled your thighs, stroking up and down the soft skin. you rolled your hips, experimenting, toying with him, and he groaned, low and loud.

“does this answer your your question?” you whispered, leaning into him so that you could loop your arms around his neck.

lando kissed you, slow and sloppy, sitting up even further just to feel you closer. he could feel your nipples brushing against his bare chest, low whines breaking through the kiss your shared every time you felt too sensitive. your bodies were rolling together in unison, friction building nicely between your legs.

he was growing impatient, itching to get rid of the remaining barriers between you. lando held you still, tight, flipping you both over so that he was hovering over you. his lips worked your neck, hickeys littered down your neck and over your collarbone, while his hands moved down your body. he toyed with the band of your thong, snapping the material against your waist.

lando left you there, keening for his touch, while he peeled his shirt off. his trousers went next, along with his boxers, and then he was right back where he’d left off. your panties disappeared in a flash, his kisses punctuated by a splotchy purple mark sucked below your left breast.

and then he was buried between your legs, licking stripes into you like he was starving. he moaned into your pussy when he felt the first pull on his hair, spurring him on. he applied more pressure, taking it slow, revelling in the way you tugged harder and harder with every swipe. lando slid two fingers through your folds, coating them in your slick.

when he slid the digits inside of you, his mouth latched onto your clit, flicking against it relentlessly. he found the perfect rhythm, balance, everything he was doing made you see stars behind your eyelids. you were thrashing, helpless, and he was getting off on it.

you jaw went slack when you raised yourself onto your elbows just to find him grinding against the mattress, groaning into your cunt at the sensation, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. you couldn’t even hold yourself up then, dropping into the mattress as you fell apart beneath him.

lando resurfaced a few moments later, a glint in his eyes, his mouth glistening in the dim light. your vision was hazy, body shattered, but you ached for more of him. the feeling only intensified, your legs tightening around his waist, when he raised his coated fingers to his lips, lapping up every last drop of you. his tongue swirled around his digits lewdly, and you shuddered.

lando didn’t mind at all when you pushed him onto his back, clambering on top of him. you looked wild, animalistic even, as you guided the tip of his cock through your folds, and he folded his arms behind his head to enjoy the view. once you’d slicked him up, not that he really needed it, you sunk down on him.

fingerprints stained your hips; his grip on you increased tenfold as you adjusted around him, your walls throbbing around his swollen cock. lando sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, holding you down on him. your movements were stuttering, trying to hold yourself together and ignore the way he fit inside you so damn perfectly. you tested the waters, rolling your hips a few times, and his eyes rolled back in his skull.

you felt heavenly, like velvet and butterflies.

he lost all sense of control, every fibre keeping him from wrecking you. his grip didn’t loosen when he fucked up into you, bending his knees for any extra leverage he could get. your nails scraped down his chest, his abs, dripping at the way he tensed under your touch. you tried your best to keep up with him, to meet his thrusts, holding your own for longer than you thought you would.

and then you were folding, melting into his chest, one of his hands pulling both of your behind your back, holding you down as he fucked you into your orgasm. your whines were panted right into his ear, sending him hurtling towards his own high.

lando couldn’t help himself, spilling into you, your body pressed helplessly into his. you were exhausted, wrecked, grinning lazily against the thrumming of his heartbeat.

with your hands held behind your back, you couldn’t stop him from planting you on your back, snaking down your body, burying his tongue deep inside you. the room was filled with the sound of sex, his tongue dragging over you like you were the last meal on earth and he was ravenous. he cleaned up the mess he’d made quickly, sounds that would make the population of sin city blush bouncing off the walls.

your vision was white, maybe your were screaming, it was hard to know what was going on when he had you about ready to ascend. when you fell over the edge, you were boneless, at one with the bed. you watched as he licked his lips, flopping onto the bed beside you.

he stroked your hair and you hummed, content and satiated.

lando didn’t dare look away from you while you came down.

apparently, it was rare to wake up after a wild night in vegas and remember the events of the night before.

lando remembered everything.

the exact shade of your eyes, the feel of red satin and black lace, the way you tasted.

your lips on his skin, hips in his hands, the way you moulded pliantly to his touch.

the way you gave as good as you got.

he was smiling before he’d even opened his eyes, reaching blinding across the bed, ready to propose round… four? five? lando had lost count.

warm hands met cold sheets and suddenly he was wide awake.

lando sat up dead straight, searching for a sign of life in the room. there was none. no shoes on the floor, no dress to match, no thong hanging from the door handle. a pit formed in his stomach.

is this how he made people feel?

waking up alone after the best sex of his life and no trace of the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on was quite miserable.

he thudded back into the mattress, hands shielding his eyes from the burn of daylight. he felt like shit, that was undeniable. when he’d fallen asleep, naked and with you nestled into his side, he couldn’t wait to wake up, perhaps arrogantly thinking that you’d be waking up with him. what was that saying, again?

hope breeds eternal misery.

his brain was wracked with the image of you and him, champagne flowing right before he’d taken you again, bent over the desk. and then again in the shower, a harmless attempt to clean yourselves up ending up with you on your knees before your cheek was pressed against the shower screen.

lando tried to fathom why you’d leave after the night you’d shared. there was something about it, something more intimate in the desperation you’d shared, that left him senseless as to why you were gone before the sun was in the sky.

just like he usually was.

it dawned on him, quite quickly, that the habits he’d made of quick fucks and fast getaways was not good form. it was reckless and casually cruel, and he felt guilt for the first time since his string of one night stands had begun. perspective was a crazy thing.

when he sluggishly made his way out of bed, he felt even worse.

“where’d you get to last night? we lost you after that terrible game of blackjack.” max teased, sipping his coffee.

lando found himself at the breakfast table, head rested on his hand and hoodie pulled tight. he wasn’t in the mood to talk, but max was like a dog with a bone; there was no avoiding this conversation.

“met a girl.” lando mumbled, aimlessly stirring the tea he knew he wasn’t going to drink.

“ah, understood.” max said, grinning knowingly. but then, as if lando’s bad mood finally clicked, he continued. “wait, why are you in a mood then?”

“tired.” lando replied, monotonously. he wasn’t quite sure how to unpack this one.

“bullshit.”

“woke up alone.”

“oh.”

“she was- i don’t know. just thought it would be different, that’s all.” lando couldn’t disguise the deflated tone of his voice.

“don’t tell me you caught feelings from a shag.” max rolled his eyes, chomping away at his toast. lando could barely stomach the sight of food.

“shut up, i’m not saying i fell in love. just liked something about her.”

“well, anything can happen in vegas. you never know, mate. she might find her way back to you.”

lando was getting ready for the netflix cup before he knew it. he’d managed to shake off max, escaping to the darkness of his room, the curtains drawn and the lights off.

he pretended it was the hangover that had him laying face down on his bed.

the last thing he wanted was to go and play corporate circus on the golfing green, but he figured some fresh air wouldn’t hurt. and so, he was in the backseat of a car well on his way to the tournament.

carlos couldn’t distract him, neither could alex or pierre. rickie fowler was much less interesting that he hoped, or maybe he wasn’t and lando just wasn’t interested enough. not even zak’s mclaren printed trousers could cheer him up.

lando was leaning into his golf club, starting mindlessly into the crowd, waiting for this garish event to begin when he caught a glimpse of someone he recognised. in a sea of influencers and obnoxious businessmen, there you were.

there you fucking were, in your knee high boots and a mini skirt, sunglasses perched on your nose, skintight top under an oversized blazer and hair shining under the warm sunlight. he lost his balance, the golf club slipping from underneath him, and the only thing that kept him upright was the burning urge to keep his eyes on you.

just who were you?

lando didn’t need to clarify whether or not you were looking at him, too. no, you made it abundantly clear by the way you winked at him, before pushing your sunglasses back up the bridge of your nose.

you fucking winked.

he took a step in your direction, shaky legs ready to carry him all the way over to you. he only had your first name and he craved your second, your phone number, anything really. he’d just take the small talk, to be completely honest.

but then the klaxon screeched, knocking him out of his trance and he whipped round to discover that they were ready to tee off. lando cursed under his breath, rapidly turning to search for your face but you were nowhere to be seen.

had he imagined you? had he imagined all of it?

every golf ball hit was hit with frustrated vengeance.

the week disappeared in a bittersweet blur.

lando had achieved multiple hangovers and about zero dollars in winnings, but he’d successfully managed to take his mind off of you.

okay, so that was a bare faced lie, but if lando didn’t lie to himself, he wouldn’t be able to lie to anyone else.

he wouldn’t be able to lie to max that he was no longer moping. he wouldn’t be able to lie to the media when they asked him if he was oh so excited about the race. he wouldn’t be able to lie to his team when they asked him if he was still suffering the consequences of his week long hangover.

lando had been rushing around all day, after a solid p4 in qualifying the night before. the entire day had been horrendous, sequins and bright lights being shone in his eyes. all he wanted to do was hide, get in the car and then go to bed.

fate had other plans.

lando was rushing to the front of the grid for the national anthem, certain that whatever display that was about to occur would make him nauseous. he was derailed on his journey, caught by rachel brookes in the pitlane, and then accosted by martin brundle once he’d made his was onto the grid.

“good qualifying yesterday and good luck today!” martin called to lando, turning to wrestle another insufferable celebrity.

as lando was making his getaway, ready to jog through the masses of people to his place at the front, he went barrelling into another body, putting his hands out to steady himself and the poor person that had become his collateral damage. as he regained his balance, he must have looked like a cartoon character, eyes bulging out of his head.

“are you stalking me?” was all he could choke out when his eyes met yours.

what the actual fuck were you doing here?

lando had given up on the possibility of ever seeing you again, and yet, here you were, stood under the bright floodlights on the grid, his office. this was the last place he’d expected you to show up, paddock pass swinging from your neck. again, what the actual fuck were you doing here?

“might as well be, at this point.” you teased. “hopefully you’ll do better today than you did at golf on tuesday.” you smiled coyly up at him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

lando was on quite the time crunch, glancing at the time on the clock at the front of the grid. he had a minute to spare, if he was lucky, but he had to talk to you, before you inevitably disappeared again.

“thought i’d get at least your phone number before you left.”

“from what i hear, you don’t usually stick around long enough for those.” you smirked.

well, his reputation certainly proceeded him. he couldn’t really argue with that.

“maybe i’m trying to change that.” lando attempted to flirt but really, he sounded desperate. you didn’t seem to mind.

“i’ll make you a deal,” you proposed, leaning in just a little bit closer. lando’s breath hitched in his throat. “get on that podium, and i’ll be waiting in your hotel lobby.”

“and if i don’t?” lando’s mouth was dry.

“maybe i’ll see you next year.”

lando watched you walk away, your hips swaying tantalisingly, wondering if the hefty fine he would be bollocked with would be worth it if he didn’t move his ass for the national anthem.

this would be the drive of his fucking life.

lando couldn’t recall a time he’d left a track faster in his life.

media duties were rushed, so was the shower he had before he fled. it was lucky he was already on the strip, so the walk to his hotel was blissfully short.

he entered the lobby with a shit eating grin and a comically large bottle of champagne in hand.

a string of second places had gotten rather frustrating, but this one felt particularly good. a podium was a podium, fair and square, and assuming you’d kept to your end of the bargain, he was in for the best celebration of his life.

sitting pretty at the bar that stretched through the lobby, you were waiting for him, heels swinging from the stool you rested on. denim clung to your hips, a dark corset style top moulding to your curves. he wondered if love at first sight was real; lust at first sight certainly was.

lando’s eyes beckoned to towards him, and you slipped inconspicuously into the elevator together, not wanting to draw too much attention to your rendezvous. it was a futile attempt, frankly, because he had you backed into the mirror before the doors had even fully shut.

kisses on your neck had your eyes fluttering closed, one of his knees slotting comfortably between your thighs. one of his hands was clasped tight around the neck of the neck of the bottle, giving lando the fantastic idea to find your neck with his free one. he held you firmly, forcing you to look at him.

“i’m gonna make you wish you never left.”

hours on the mattress pulling countless orgasms from one another left you both weak, exhausted, a little bit clingy.

lando felt electric. no other person had ever left him so feral, so euphoric.

he’d had you first against the door, pulling your jeans off and pinning you against it, your thighs in his firm grasp as he fucked you into the wooden panel. then, he’d taken you to bed, your knuckles turning white from your brutal grip on the headboard when he’d planted you down on his mouth. two orgasms later, you were face down in the sheets, ass in the air for him while he slammed into you like his life depended on it, pulling you into his chest by your hair when you reached your climaxes.

all that hard work called for a bath, where you both found yourselves now. it had started off quite innocently, sat at opposite ends of the extravagantly large bathtub amongst the bubbles. but then you’d given him those eyes, and then your back was pressed against his chest, your body draped over his. his head was nestled into the crook of your neck, one arm slung over your waist. his other hand brought the bottle of champagne to his lips, the liquid going down smoothly. lando pressed the bottle to your pursed lips too, trading backwards and forwards while your bodies relaxed into the hot water.

lando’s hand on your waist was getting restless, fingers drumming over your abdomen, up, up, up, until he found your breast. he circled your nipple with his finger, not quite touching the bud yet, but he could feel it hardening from his scarce touch. your hips rolled backwards into his, feeling him hardening once again against your lower back. lando cupped your breast, massaging it in his hands before he switched, flitting between your tits.

you slumped somehow even further into him, not a millimetre of space between your bodies. he was winding you up beautifully, heat burning between your legs once more. you didn’t know how you did it, how you could be so ready for each other after the eventful evening you’d already shared.

lando was flicking your nipples between his finger, switching back and fourth until you were moaning quietly. you took charge, the sensitivity building too quickly, and so you rolled over in his arms, clambering into his lap.

the bath water splashed around you, moving in small waves across the tub as you situated yourself on top of him, grinding down on him until he was buried deep within your walls. he found that spot, rolling your hips against his, and then you were rocking up and down on him, nice and slow. he touched parts of you that never had been before, the pace and the angle intensifying every little sensation. your head was thrown back, hands clawing at his shoulders for something to hold onto, just for the feel of him.

lando reached over the edge of the bathtub, blindly searching for the bottle he’d discarded while you’d been switching positions. he felt the green glass grazing his fingertips and brought it back to his lips, eyes trailing over your body in sheer awe.

he couldn’t help himself, taking a sip before tilting it towards you, pouring the golden bubbles over your clavicle, jaw tightening - just like your cunt did at the sensation - as he watched the sticky alcohol drip down over the curve of your bouncing breasts.

you quivered when you felt his tongue lap over your nipple, then the other, dragging over your sodden flesh until he reached the junction between your neck and your shoulder. he bit down, hard, eyes rolling back at the taste in his mouth and the way you clamped down around him, whimpering out between breathless pants.

lando felt you let go, stuttering on his cock and sinking down on top of him, the water - now lukewarm - soothing your tired limbs. he held you close, basking in the intimacy of the moment, his hearing honing in on the dull hum of ecstasy you expelled.

the bath grew colder and colder as you sat there, comfortable silence filling the air along with the quiet rush of water that came with any movements made. when the time came, lando held you up as you got off of him and stepped onto the plush rug, quickly following suit. you were eyeing the shower when he turned to hand you a towel.

“i think i need a shower, as much as i enjoyed the bath.” you spoke, opening the screen and stepping in to adjust the knobs.

lando weighed up his options, agonising over joining you or doing his back in. he couldn’t exactly tell his trainer that his back gave out from too much sex.

“am i invited?” lando asked, stepping in behind you, hands on your waist.

“seems like you’ve already invited yourself.” you teased, looking at him over your shoulder.

“no funny business, you.” lando rested his head on your shoulder.

“from me? you’re just as bad.” you quipped, letting the hot warm stream all over your flushed bodies.

lando stayed as he was for a second, but then you turned your head again, looking at him from the corner of your eye and he needed to kiss you. he couldn’t help but, and so he twisted you round to face him and leaned in. you were more than receptive, fingers raking through his wet curls.

the hot water rained down on you while you stood there, holding each other close. lando couldn’t put his finger on it, why he didn’t want to let you go. he couldn’t even begin to process the idea of having anyone else in his arms like this. it was absurd, really, but he was too caught up in the moment to care.

when you were both clean and dry, you laid down in bed, gazing mindlessly at one another. his eyes followed the lines of your face, the curve of your lips. he learned a lot about you, a formula 1 fan with who ran her own business and took herself on holiday to vegas. the conversation flowed like the champagne had and you were laughing at all his stupid jokes. in turn he grinned like a fool at your quick wit, the sound of your laughter.

“so what are you doing next? back to work?” lando asked, an idea forming in his mind like a tornado.

“nope,” you popped the p. “giving myself some well deserved time off.”

“have you ever been to abu dhabi?” lando asked, lips quirking mischievously.

inbox me your thoughts bc aaaaaaaa 😨😨

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239

i’ve removed tags that weren’t working! lemme know if u wanna be added or removed <3

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quin-ns · 1 year

Text

Neighborhood Dilf (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: joel finds out he has a nickname and he asks you what it means

Tags: pre-outbreak this is a happy fic guys!! I didn’t specify a year but let’s put it at 2000 for funsies so sarah is like 11 and joel is like 30ish. also fluff, humor, flirting, age gap, goofy plot (I don’t know what this is honestly), joel being the definition of a dilf and not knowing it, crushes, overall cuteness. also suburbia

A/N: I saw a tiktok where someone said they just knew joel was the neighborhood dilf and they were so real for that I had to write it. and no I don’t care that the word was popularized online we’re using it here. I’m here to provide a cute fluffy fanfic not a historically accurate one lol. also sorry if your name is bee, I tried to come up with a name for the friend that was a nickname so if it was someone’s actual name they could just imagine their full name (I overthink)

cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • main masterlist

The loud music coming from outside woke you up from your afternoon nap. After spending a semester at college struggling to find even an hour of sleep, you were taking as many of those as possible. You were a little grouchy at first as you threw your covers off and stormed to your window, but quickly calmed down when you realized it was the annual block party your neighborhood hosted during the summer.

You’d gotten an in-person invite from Bee, another girl home from college who you’d been friends with in high school before going your separate ways. You still kept in touch since she was nice enough, which is how you found out her family was hosting this year. She’d confided in you personally that she would quote “go crazy if it was all kids and old people.”

As you looked out into their front yard, which was diagonal to yours, you saw that’s pretty much all it was. Since you were such a good friend, you decided that you’d go.

You were getting dressed (at a leisurely pace) when your phone started to ring. You picked it up from your desk after you pulled your pink sundress on and flipped it open. The caller ID read Bee’s name and you answered, ready to tell her you were on your way.

“He’s here,” she said, sounding mistified, before you could even open your mouth.

“Who?” you wondered, furrowing your brows a little to yourself as you went to the window.

“The neighborhood dilf,” Bee replied under her breath.

The nickname made you laugh. It reminded you of high school. It had started as a joke, something you had started calling the new guy who’d moved into the neighborhood with his daughter a few years back. Later you found out his name was Joel Miller, but the nickname spread like wildfire to all the other girls in the neighborhood and it just stuck.

Everyone knew about it; the girls of course, their confused parents, jealous boys who thought Joel was stealing their attention—the only person who wasn't aware of the moniker (as far as you knew) was Joel. Well, you hoped his daughter didn’t know either. Thankfully, after time, everyone forgot that you had started it. It was a bit embarrassing.

You walked away from the window to your closet and slid on your flip flops—it was summer in Texas, after all.

“You need to get over here, Y/N—what?” the last word sounded distant from the phone. “Yeah, she’s supposed to be on her way,” Bee replied, but to someone else.

“Um, hello?” you asked, waiting.

Bee was quiet for a few seconds, then whisper shouted into the phone, “you’ll never guess what just happened!”

“Let me guess, Joel just walked up and professed his love for you,” you teased, laughing at your own joke. “What, were my parents asking for me or something?” you guessed for real that time, recalling the small bit you had heard her say.

“Unfortunately no, and also no,” she sounded a little too disappointed about the first part, which made you chuckle again. “He did just ask me about you though.”

“Who?”

“The dilf.”

“Just use his name,” you told her with a roll of your eyes, heading out of your room to the stairs. “Wait.” You stopped for a second. “Joel asked about me?”

“Yeah. I changed my mind, you’re not invited.” If it wasn’t for her obvious sarcasm you might’ve thought she was serious. “He heard me say your name and asked if you’d be here soon. I—hey!” she yelled, causing you to pull the phone from your ear for a second. You continued your descent down the stairs as she yelled something about ‘kids’ and ‘stay out of there’. “I gotta go,” she said suddenly, then hung up.

You just shook your head with a small, amused smile and left your phone on the counter. Stupid dress and no pockets.

You headed out the front door and walked across the street towards the party.

It was in full swing. Music, games, food table—it looked like something out of a magazine. The Grants had a huge front yard—it was one of the nicer houses in the neighborhood—and it seemed like everyone was there. There were kids running around, adults all mingling—some sitting at the fold out tables, others walking around, others chasing their kids—there was also a group of dads surrounding the grill. You glanced that way and didn’t see Joel. You wondered where he was and if you should find him, but Bee found you first.

“The kids aren’t supposed to go inside alone and two of those little jerks went into my room,” Bee complained right away, straightening out her white blouse over her jean shorts. Her pinned back brown hair was a little messy, though. You wondered what happened, which she quickly answered. “I saw them jumping on my bed through the window.”

“Sounds like fun,” you commented sarcastically. Bee looped her arm through yours.

“My dad set up ring toss and it’s all little kids, I don’t wanna be the only adult playing. Come on.” She dragged you along in that direction and you willingly went with.

You saw a few kids from the neighborhood playing, mostly the preteens who were too old for hopscotch but whose parents had told them they weren't old enough for the mini golf (one of the boys had overshared that little comment).

“Y/N!” a girl's voice called. You looked that way and saw Sarah Miller walking towards you. A few days out of the week when her dad was working late, you’d go over to their house and keep an eye on her (before you left for college). It was the easiest babysitting gig you ever had; she was polite, always did her school work, and hardly caused any problems. Her dad had raised her very well.

She looked older than you remembered her being, but you had been gone for both fall and spring semesters—well, you had been home for winter break briefly, but not enough to see anyone other than your parents.

“Sarah, hi!” you greeted, accepting the hug she offered when she got close. “How are you?”

“Good!” she said with a smile. “Are you guys gonna play with us?” she asked you and Bee. “I keep beating them and it’s not fun anymore.”

You and Bee both laughed at that. “Sure, why not.”

“It feels weird playing with her after talking about how hot her dad is,” Bee whispered in your ear when Sarah went first. “You think he’ll come over here?”

“And what would you do if he did?” you challenged while hiding a chuckle, raising your brows at her.

“Um, probably nothing,” she admitted, cheeks a little pink. “He’s fun to look at though.”

You hummed. “You’re not wrong.”

The two of you played a few rounds of ring toss, although Bee got very bored quickly. “Can we go get some drinks?” she asked after not that long of playing.

“Sure,” you decided. You waved bye to Sarah and the others as the two of you walked off towards the cooler.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed some of the other girls in the neighborhood that hadn’t been in attendance before. For a couple that you knew, it didn’t seem like their scene.

“What are they doing here?” you asked Bee.

“I may or may not have also told them the neighborhood dilf was here. They, uh, wanted to… see him,” she answered, avoiding eye contact.

You raised your brows in slight disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“I wanted more people our age here,” Bee defended. “I wasn’t sure if you were even gonna show.”

You scoffed out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous,” you told her.

You reached the cooler and knelt down. You handed Bee a water, but she didn’t accept it. You looked up at her.

“Keep an eye out for the dilf, I haven’t seen him in a while. I’ll be right back,” Bee told you, taking off before you could say anything. You guessed the bathroom given her speed walking inside.

You laughed a little to yourself as you stood back up. You kept the water for yourself. You looked out amongst the crowd, realizing you were now on your own while everyone was in groups. You saw a couple people you were friends with and thought of maybe going up and joining them, but someone else spotted you first.

Joel Miller, the aforementioned neighborhood dilf, was walking towards you. Bee would be jealous, especially if she knew you and Joel were actually friends.

You had thought about telling Bee and some of the other girls that you were friends with Joel, given how much they just loved to gossip about him (how he was still single, how he looked really good in his pajamas getting the mail, that one time he took his shirt off while mowing the lawn—that was a big day) but then you thought better of it, not wanting to be run out of town by a jealous mob.

You were already getting glances by the time Joel stopped by your side so maybe your humbleness was pointless.

“Saw you all alone, thought I’d come keep you company,” Joel broke the ice with ease.

How long had he been watching you? The thought made your cheeks feel warm.

“Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased lightly, causing Joel to chuckle.

“I try,” he joked back, shooting you a small wink.

When you had first met Joel you were nervous around him. It was much easier to talk to him now that the two of you had become friends rather than acquaintances. He was an easy guy to get along with and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company rather than just gawking at him in his yard from your window (like you used to do in high school). Your crush hadn’t disappeared though, so you joked around with him as a way to keep things casual and avoid getting in your own head.

“Sarah told me you were finally here, she was happy to see you,” Joel mentioned with a light smile.

That made you smile back. “She’s a sweet kid,” you told him. “I was happy to see her too.”

You fiddled with the water bottle in your hand as you spoke, trying to unscrew the cap. The stupid thing was stuck and after a few seconds you gave up.

Joel gave you an amused look, glancing between your face and hands. “You want help with that?”

“Yes, please,” you handed it to him. “There you go again, proving chivalry isn’t dead. Thank you.”

Joel unscrewed the cap with ease and handed it back. “Happy to be at your service.”

“So, you guys been here a while?” you asked, sparking up conversation.

“Not too long, only an hour or so. It’s been fun though,” Joel explained. “More for Sarah than for me,” he admitted, glancing around to find his daughter. He spotted her and she waved, then continued playing with her friends.

“Why’s that?” you wondered, looking up at him just as he looked down at you.

“Just… I mean, everyone is nice and all,” he started. “But I just feel like I got nothin’ to talk about with them, y’know? Except you.”

“Really?” You tried to not sound too thrown off by that, but you didn’t know he felt like that. It was interesting to say the least.

“Is that such a surprise?” he wondered, raising an eyebrow curiously.

You shrugged. “Maybe a little. I get it though, I haven’t really talked to anyone other than Bee yet.”

“I don’t know if you’re friends with them, but I saw a bunch of girls your age walking around,” Joel said as a suggestion.

“Nah, I’d rather just talk to you,” you said casually, before you could even think about what you had said. The look on Joel’s face changed a little, like he was trying to bite back a bigger smile.

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” he said after a moment. Your eyes met his and the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. You had to look away to be able to breathe, almost certain you were reading into things. You really, really did not want to be disappointed.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Joel said, making you realize you hadn’t spoken yet.

“Sure, yeah.”

“You know… young person lingo, don't you?”

You laughed at the awkward wording. If it had been any of the other adults here using the word “lingo” you would’ve cringed, but there was something cute about the way Joel said it. You tried to snap that thought out of your head.

“Mostly, yeah,” you replied with a little chuckle paired with a curious tone. “What’s up?”

“Do you know what a dilf is?” he asked bluntly. That alone told you he had no idea.

You were so stunned, all you could think to say was, “why?”

“Well, those girls I mentioned… I overhead some of them calling me that,” he explained, his eyebrows furrowing a little. “It’s not bad, is it?”

Was this karma coming back to you for starting the nickname? It wouldn’t have surprised you.

“It’s not bad, no,” you assured while also avoiding the main question.

“What is it then?” Joel’s interest was piqued now and while you couldn’t blame him, you also couldn’t think of a way to make this not weird.

“It’s an acronym,” you started. Joel watched you intently, waiting for an explanation. “It means dad I’d like to…” you trailed off, hinting at him the word to fill in the blank.

Joel just looked even more confused. “To what?”

Somehow he made cluelessness incredibly attractive.

Screw it, you thought. This was already weird. Rip the bandaid off, right? “Fuck,” you finished before you could think better of it.

“Oh,” he stated. You knew it took a second for realization to hit. “Oh. So that means they, um,”

“It’s basically like saying you’re hot,” you explained, filling in when he couldn’t. You hoped he wouldn’t find it insulting or anything like that.

Joel looked a little bashful but found amusement in the situation nonetheless. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” you suggested, then sipped your water. You looked out at the people milling about rather than meeting his gaze.

“Do you think I’m one?”

You nearly choked on your water. “What?”

“Sorry,” Joel apologized quickly, trying to laugh it off. “I shouldn't've asked that.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him. You paused for a minute, contemplating what you might say to that. You got a rush of bravery. “If you’re asking if I think you’re attractive… the answer is yes.”

Joel couldn’t hold back his smile. He tried, but it was a failed effort. It was like he was trying to contain his anticipation. “What about if I wanted to ask you out? What would your answer be then?”

“Yes.”

Joel grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he admitted.

“Dad!” Sarah’s voice caused the two of you to look away from one another. You saw her running up to you guys and hoped she hadn’t heard a word of your conversation. “Can you come play with me? Mr. Grant just set up a bean bag toss!”

“Sure, kiddo,” he told her. She grabbed his hand and started to drag him away.

You smiled a little to yourself at the interaction—he was such a good dad.

Joel slowed her down a little bit to look back at you. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Sounds good,” you replied, chuckling lightly.

The Millers disappeared into the roaming people. You tried to follow them with your gaze but your attention got torn away.

“Waiting in a line for the bathroom in my own house is messed up,” Bee said, popping out seemingly out of nowhere. “What’s got you so happy?” she wondered, eyeing the smile on your face that couldn’t be erased.

“You won’t believe what just happened,” you replied. A part of you still couldn’t believe it. “I’ve got a date with the neighborhood dilf.”

joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose @dontphunkwithmylove @cilliansangel @amethystwonders11 @frogsmuahh037 @andy-rocks @melllinaa @alitaar @melanie451 @b00kw0rmsworld @reverieisaway @avengersfan25 @aheadfullofsteverogers @strangeh0rizons @spideysimpossiblegirl @shannonmariebee

if you would like to be added to the joel taglist just send me an ask or a message! <3

#quin-ns writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel x reader #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 8 months

Note

i was thinking a whiskey if you please? :) with a side of a bbf!steve rogers? (brother’s best friend and that brother is bucky) idk recently i’ve found similarities in my physical appearance to bucky so it was just a random thought lol- but basically steve is a sweetheart towards the reader and that causes her to crush on him (and ofc cause he’s hot) and the prompt could be "Let him watch." (him being bucky 🤭)

Let Him Watch.

warnings - cursing. allusions to sexual content.

my love, I hope you don't mind, but I decided to make this a college!au. the idea of college bucky and steve is just so delicious to me I couldn't resist <3

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

A party. A one off visit. The boy you've been in love with since you were a kid.

Your brothers best friend.

The notorious frat boy who's always had a soft spot for you.

There's so many people in this house, you can barely stand. Bass bouncing, bodies moving, sweat dripping down backs. Lights flashing, drinks flowing, hands roaming and exploring.

You're sandwiched between two strangers when you feel a solo cups worth of liquid pour down your back, drenching you. You gasp and turn around, but can't find the culprit. Looking around the room, you search for Bucky, hoping he'll give you the key to his room so you can grab a new shirt from your overnight bag.

You fight your way through the crowd, desperate to find your brother. You can see what seems like a thousand frat boys, not one of them the one you want.

"Are you okay?" someone shouts at you, warm hand finding your shoulder.

It's Steve, who looks a little concerned, crease etched in between his brows.

"Someone threw a drink down my back," you yell back. "I can't find Bucky!"

"He's with Nat, in the backyard. Come with me."

Before you can protest, he's intertwining his fingers with yours, pulling you upstairs.

You've never been in Steve's room at college. Back home, you've been in it a thousand times, but this is different. This is a place for grown up Steve, not a kid anymore Steve. This feels more sacred, somehow.

"Sorry about the mess."

You look around, and can't understand what he's talking about. The place is virtually spotless, everything neat and tidy.

"You're the least messy person I know, Steve."

He laughs and opens his closet, searching through his clothes.

"Which one? Green or blue?"

He holds up two shirts, one in each hand, offering them to you.

"Blue, please. It'll go with my skirt better."

You take it from him, a tiffany coloured tee with ROGERS written on the back. You remember him wearing it, at a practise football tournament a couple of years back.

Without thinking, you peel your wet shirt over your head, standing in front of Steve in your bra. The beer you've been sipping on has lowered your inhibitions, bravery coursing through your veins.

His eyes roam over you before he shakes his head, diverting his gaze.

"You're so beautiful," he mumbles. "Most beautiful girl in the world."

You look at him incredulously, unsure if you heard him correctly.

"What?"

"You heard me. I've never met anyone as pretty as you."

"Steve, you're drunk."

"No drunker than you are."

He takes a step towards you, trailing his fingertips up your arm.

"Shouldn't you be with some college cheerleader or something?" you whisper.

He laughs, low and warm.

"I haven't slept with anyone since I got here."

You scoff.

"You've been here for months. I don't believe that for a second."

"It's true. I've been too busy thinking about-"

He cuts himself off, dancing his fingers up to rest against your cheek. He cradles your face in his hand, looking at you seriously.

"I can't stop thinking about you."

"Me?" you whisper in disbelief.

"Yes, you. I know it's not fair on Bucky, but I don't know what else to do. It's not my fault his sister is so easy to fall in love with."

"You love me?" you choke out, eyes welling with tears. You take a breath to try and ground yourself, half convinced you're dreaming.

"I think I've loved you for years. Do you know how excited I was when Bucky said you were coming to visit? Most exciting thing to happen to me in months. I really miss you."

"I miss you too. So much. It's surprisingly hard being apart."

"I don't want to hurt Bucky," he murmurs.

"Me neither. That's the last thing I want to do. Ever."

"But I'm also sick of denying what I want."

He lunges forward and captures your lips, pulling you into him. It's tender and sweet and full of so many years of things unsaid.

You pull away to rest your forehead on his, breathing him in.

"I love you too, by the way," you whisper against his lips.

The grin he gives you is so bright, it's like looking at the sun. He is your sun. Your light in the dark. The only boy you've ever loved.

A harsh knock on the door startles you both.

"Steve, it's Sam! You in there? I need you to be my beer pong partner!"

"I'll, uh, I'll be out in a second!" Steve yells back.

"Come on, hotshot. They're wondering where you are," you chuckle, leaning up to kiss him chastely.

You throw his shirt on and check your reflection in the mirror, turning around when you hear Steve groan.

"What?"

"You look so good in my clothes."

"Control yourself, Rogers, or else Bucky's going to see."

"Let him watch," he winks, grinning when you laugh.

He links your hands and pulls you out of the door, ready to accept the inevitable consequences of being in love with his best friends sister.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #murphy's 3k celebration #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader fluff #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #captain america x reader #captain america fluff #chris evans #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x barnes!reader #brothersbestfriend!steve rogers #bbf!steve rogers

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bsdawgz · 4 months

Text

「 ✦ Waiting for You ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Port Mafia: Nakahara Chūya

a/n: hiiii everyone!! first, i wanna say thank u all sm for all ur support! this fic is a follow up to a thought that crossed my mind one day after work lol. i didn't expect that one post to have as many likes/reblogs as it ended up having, so here's a continuation of that little scenario for my fellow chūya stans. i hope i did ok!

genre: f!reader who's a lil bit bratty; nasty with a sprinkle of fluff cuz it's established relationship!

content warning: MDNI! cunnilingus (he is pussydrunk omg😭), fingering, unprotected sex + he cums inside (she is on birth control), lots and lots of praise and pet names (babe, baby, doll), he says "fuck" like 1 billion times in this (this is canon tho and you can't change my mind about it BAHAHA) and uhhh and he gets a bit rough and overstimulates you (and himself) at the end as well hehe!

summary: after a tough day at work, there's nothing you want more than to be dicked down by your boyfriend, chūya ♡

from just outside your bedroom, you hear a ‘click’ of metal as the front door closes. the sound is followed by a familiar voice grumbling incoherent complaints and a quiet shuffling of shoes. it could only mean one thing: chūya is back from work.

hurriedly throwing on your house slippers, you rush out your room to greet him in the foyer of his apartment, singing his name excitedly for no reason other than the mere joy of seeing your boyfriend after a day spent apart. he chuckles at your liveliness, catching you as you throw your arms around him. you’re always a breath of fresh air after the grueling day-to-day work that is being a port mafia executive. his body, tense from being on-guard all day, relaxes into your touch slowly as he lets his defenses fall for you. pressing his lips to your hair, chūya relishes in the scent of your mint shampoo as you nuzzle into his chest.

“'missed you, doll.”

you had been waiting on your boyfriend for a little over two hours since your shift ended, but the short span of time felt like forever… and you knew exactly why.

you had spent one hour just laying in his king-sized bed. that one hour, you spent thinking, staring up at the ornate ceiling, tracing the details of each unique tile in your mind.

the next hour, you spent laying in that same bed, staring up at nothing, tracing the details of chūya in your mind –

that auburn hair that falls into his eyes, those curls that descend down the base of his neck,

the expensive cologne that lingers on his shoulder, that telling smile on his lips that speaks only your name;

those slender fingers that grasp your neck ever so slightly while your nails rake down his naked back...

the mattress creaking under your bodies as he fucks you –

the thought made you ache.

“ugh, work was such shit today. you’ll never believe who decided to stop by again.” chūya scoffs, snapping you out of your little fantasy. his hand brushes past your waist as he snakes past you to hang his hat up by the door. you feel your body become uncomfortably warm at his innocent touch. you're embarrassed at how flustered you get, your cheeks reddening as another dirty thought enters your mind. oh god… chūya can be so oblivious sometimes. honestly, wasn’t it obvious from the way you jumped at him that you want him to make a move right now? for a man who could be so aggressive with others, he could be awfully passive with you.

“that mackerel dazai is always trying to screw me over… i’ll show him.” he grits his teeth, balling his hand into a fist as he mumbles about work again.

on most days, you would listen to chūya completely. you’d let him talk your ear off, in fact. chūya knew you were his #1 supporter –

but today was different. today has been an exceptionally stressful day at work for you, too.

it started with a power outage at your apartment, which led you to miss not one but two trains at work and consequently, being bitched at by your boss in front of the company president for tardiness… as if being shortchanged on a daily basis wasn’t enough to have you always in a foul mood. in other words, you weren’t feeling up to exchanging pleasantries with chūya today.

now, “sorry, chū~” is all you could muster as you loop your finger on chūya’s waistband, pulling him closer to you by the hips. “work’s not over yet… i need you in the bedroom, now.”

for a moment, your boyfriend just stares at you in disbelief, blinking. that mouth of yours never fails to disappoint – you can be so unassuming at times. a faint blush appears on his face as he looks away in embarrassment, surprised at your directness. there’s that cute face of his, you think to yourself. then, a flash of confidence spreads across his face and his lips curve into a knowing smirk. "i didn't realize my girl would be so needy today," he whispers in your ear in a low voice, suddenly unconcerned about work. guiding your hands, he moves them lower until you're groping him through his pants. "come, i'll give you exactly what you want."

in the bedroom, he’s gentle, loving. trailing his lips down your neck, he pampers you with soft, kitten kisses, undressing you carefully as he pulls the tank top you’ve changed into over your head and slips you out of the fuzzy shorts you’ve left at his apartment for sleepovers. what you really want for him to do right now, though, is to bend you over and manhandle you – but your boyfriend has a habit of treating you like you’re fragile, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s holding back.

unbuttoning his vest and shirt, you discard his clothes in a pile on the floor as he closes in on you, laying you down gently on the edge of the bed and smoothing his hands down your stomach. fingers play with the waistband of your cotton panties as his lips trail down your navel. "you waited so patiently for me... i oughtta reward you for being so good..." he teases.

you whine, feeling arousal collecting between your thighs as his hands inch lower but never touch you where you want him most. you throw your head back in a tantrum, grabbing at his hair. "c'mon chuuuu, just get on with it already," you complain at him. "don't bullshit anymore, please?"

yup, you’re his girl, alright –

“oy–!" he snaps at you scoldingly, rolling his eyes. "honestly, you’re so impatient–”

then, just as you’re about to protest again, you feel that sweet, overwhelming wetness – the heat of his mouth enfolding you as his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs. he moans into you and you forget all your qualms as he grabs you, holding you still as you spasm. “c-chūya… oh, god…” his name spills out of your lips and you gasp in pleasure, your hands getting tangled in his hair as he delves his tongue between your folds. his movements are skillful; he teases you with long licks and flicks of his tongue, exploring your taste as his slender fingers gather the arousal inside of you and rub circles at your clit.

“fuck, babe… you’re so fucking wet right now… this all for me?”

“all for you, chū~” you moan shamelessly in response, stealing a peek at him in between shaky breaths. there’s this wicked grin that's snuck its way onto his lips, a hunger in his eyes as he laps up your wetness, soaking in the stunning sight of your writhing under him. diving back in between your thighs, you hear him groan lowly against your bare skin:

“tastes so fucking sweet, babe… better cum for me…”

and you need so much more of it.

burying your hands in his hair, you force his face deeper into you, as if he can burrow himself into your body. you plead for more, desperately grinding yourself against his tongue, crying out his name as he holds you in firmly against his eager mouth. “chūya, please… please, chūya…”

then, just like he promised he would, chūya gives you exactly what you want —

he eats you like he’s starved, unrelenting, until heat sears through your entire body and your mind mind goes completely blank. your orgasm comes in waves. you convulse beneath him, his name spurting from out from your lips, your insides clenching the fingers that are still buried inside you.

“fuck, you’re hot.” — you hear him groan under his breath.

the sight of you so desperate and needy for him, gagging for him to fuck you dumb, has flipped a switch in him. he’s far from finished with you. “you’re still on the pill, right?” he asks, out of breath, and you nod.

stripping, chūya frees himself from his boxers. you lick your lips at him seductively, looking up at him with these lustful eyes that are waiting to return the favor. he's hard from watching you come undone and leaking with his own pre-cum. for a moment, he considers having you suck him first – but the desire to be buried deep in your heat is just so overwhelming. he needs to be inside of you right now.

“i’m just gonna put it in this time, fuck it,” he swallows, grabbing your hips and positioning you in front of him. “be a good girl for me, alright, doll?”

“always am, chū~” you quip, reaching for him as you blink your eyes at him innocently, this playful grin on your face. all he can do in response is smirk at you and shake his head at your persistent teasing, all too aware of the the fact that you have him wrapped around your finger. as you guide him inside you, you hear him inhale sharply, then you look up to see the long column of his neck as he sighs and throws his head back, sinking himself inside of you.

"damn, you feel good... if i knew you'd be treating me tonight... 'woulda come home sooner..." his fingers caress your cheek, his thumb circling around your lips as he glances back down to see how your body meets his. your slickness is sucking him right in – you're so warm and so, so very wet that it's taking no time for you to adjust to him tonight. as he pushes your thighs apart until you're on full display for him, his eyes wander down your body intently. his gaze is hot and full of nothing but pure admiration as he takes in the view of you desperately waiting to be fucked. "can't believe you're all mine too," he mumbles adoringly, stroking your hair with his hand, the strands slipping through his fingers as he grinds his hips slowly against yours. then, he starts moving, thrusting into you steadily until you're crying out his name again, begging for more.

“feels… s’good chū~ please… harder… chū, please… go harder…”

picking up the pace, he throws your legs over his shoulders and snaps his hips into yours faster, faster, faster. your mind is flooded with nothing but thoughts of chūya – being filled by him completely, his name overflowing from your lips, and the sound of your skin against his drowning out your moans. you feel his fingers squeeze the sides of your neck, then his hand wraps around a cluster of your hair and he pulls your head back, forcing you to look into his eyes once more as you gasp for breath.

"fuck, baby, you're so pretty right now. do you even have any idea how sexy you are?" he's panting wildly, this insatiable look glistening in his gray irises as he fucks you brainless. that damn look of pure bliss on your face, those filthy moans of yours, and your bouncing breasts are all driving him insane. "god, kiss me–" he growls, crashing his lips into yours. teeth collide with teeth as your noses bump together; you feel his saliva mix with yours and your tongues intertwine. "turn around for me, babe. lemme get behind you."

you nod, and he tosses you on your knees recklessly, then pulls you back against him fast and hard. you feel a firm slap to your ass and you yelp out his name. "fuck, babe, i'm not gonna last much longer. i'm gonna cum inside–"

“faster chū… faster… cum inside me... i want you to…”

"oh shit... fuck, baby–" he twitches inside of you, grabbing your breasts roughly as he empties hot spurts of cum inside you. you think he's finished with you – but then he buries his fingers into your hips again and starts fucking into you harder, nearly collapsing as he slams into you. you tangle your hands into his hair from behind, sobbing out his name as you shove your hips back against his, helping him ride out the last moments of his high.

“oh my god, chū… feels fucking good…”

finally, you feel him pull out, leaving your core throbbing and your legs trembling as his hot seed leaks down your thighs.

"jesus, i made a mess." there's some irritation in his voice as he catches his breath, raking a hand through the beads of sweat in his hair. "i guess new sheets are coming out of my next paycheck," he mutters. then, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, you feel his arms wrap around your waist as chūya pulls you tight against his chest. "c'mon doll. let me run a bath for us."

…

sitting between chūya's legs in the bathtub, you scrub shampoo bubbles through his hair as your boyfriend pours out another glass of expensive wine. "oy – don't get carried away. you know you're a lightweight," you tease.

"–am not!” he mutters defensively, rolling his eyes at you. then, bringing the glass to your lips, he parts your mouth with his thumb. "taste it, you'll like this one."

taking a sip, you savor the flavor on your tongue before passing the glass back to chūya. "oh, yeah, you said you had a bad day at work, right? what happened?"

"honestly, i can't even remember now," he sighs, putting the glass down and pressing a kiss to your temple. "how ‘bout you, doll? how was your day?"

you think for a moment, then scrunch up your nose in disgust as you recall the day's events. "don't even get me started–!"

#BSDAWGZ #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs smut #chuuya smut #bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader smut #bsd x reader #bsd x reader smut #chuya smut #chuya x reader

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vamphrrr · 4 months

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Hi!! i loved your tough love fanfic of clarisse! so i decided to ask if you can make a clarisse la rue , (aphrodite child) reader, but she’s not some normal teenager… she’s a princess if you get what im saying??? lets say that aphrodite dated a princess and had a child with him before she left, and so that’s where reader grew up, no one knew that the reader was a princess u til she told clarisse, she was really worried clarisse was gonna hate her but clarisse is like “Woah me mad at you? no way” and clarisse supports her! (Including some kissing, flirting, it would be super nice if the reader was shorter the clarisse probably up to her chest like in the tough love fanfic!)

notes ; omgggg this is so cute!! i’m so glad u liked my last fic i was nervous about posting 😭. also i’ll be making clarisse call reader princess too now knowing SHE IS ONE! they’re already dating in this. i used the same banner bc i’m too lazy to create new ones based on plot LMAO. i wrote this so soon but sometimes if anyone requests it might take me a couple of days bc of school and stuff! think i went a little overboard with this one. i should probably start counting how much i write lol.

%% are you mad?

in which your super attractive girlfriend finds out the secret you’ve been hiding from her for so long. also, she accidentally meets your dad.

— clarisse la rue x f!aphrodite!reader

warnings ; reader has doubts, tall & buff clarisse / short reader (again), flirty!clarisse flirty!clarisse, a little angst?, kissing, two swear words, flustered reader (oh how the turned tables), ooc clarisse? (i’m never sure if i write her right), one suggestive thought in the first paragraph (nothing happened tho!). a little too much background i think… too much father, did my daddy issues come out? made reader’s dad a king bc plot reasons, maybe more emotional than requested srry😭

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Sneaking off from your girlfriend’s warm bed in the middle of the night. For a minute, you wondered how’d that look to anyone watching. A girl hastily running from a cabin that she very obviously did not belong in, a long shirt —it was Clarisse’s— accompanied by small shorts, (which were not visible might you add). Oh and how could you forget, you were barefoot. Who’s bright idea was that? Oh, yeah, yours. Why?

Gods were you cold. Should’ve brought a jacket, you thought.

The bottom of your feet hurt, stepping on rocks and sticks and who knows what else would do that to you. Next time, you would definitely bring hiking boots or something. And a jacket. In the forest, you were far away from anybody that might disturb you. Pulling Clarisse’s shirt up until your shorts were visible, you dug your hand inside the pocket, meeting with a drachma. You approached the round well, splashing water mist being met with sunlight from below, creating a rainbow.

How? It was the middle of the night. Why was the sun inside? You decided not to think about it.

This well was old, dirty from not being used much. See, not many people knew about it. Apparently, it was for those that needed to talk to somebody reallyyyy privately, that’s why it was hidden in the forest, only appearing at night. You weren’t sure how that worked, but you stumbled upon it a couple of years back when you were being chased by wood nymphs for being out at night. They found you, obviously. Punishment was not escapable and you ended up having to clean the stables the day after you got your nails done. Yuck.

Now here you were again, this being the only place where you could speak to your father without anyone finding you. It’s not that you were embarrassed of him per say, it was that you really didn’t want anyone to know that you were a royal. I mean, how ironic was that? A daughter of Aphrodite, a Princess? Forget it. You’d get made fun of for the rest of your life. You especially didn’t want Clarisse to know. She was your girlfriend yes, and this was something very important that you needed to tell her about, but you weren’t sure how’d she react. You knew she wouldn’t make fun of you like others would, but you didn’t know if dating a literal Princess was too much of a deal breaker for her.

Being with a royal was too stressful, there was so much that they’d get criticized for and so little people that they’d be accepted by. Your dad was a King with many past lovers, Aphrodite included. The people loved her, I mean, who wouldn’t? But then she was gone, disappearing the same night she gave birth to you. Your dad knew of her, of this. He knew she’d be gone by the time the sun rose. Yet, he did nothing. Who was he, than just a mortal man? He could not stop a goddess from leaving.

He got with others after that, your dad had a lot of love to give. Maybe that was something that attracted your mother to him. Public lovers were not taken well, the people respected the King, sure, they just didn’t respect his partners. Constant judging, constant eyes following their every move, constant hatred being thrown, constant stress on their shoulders. In the end, they could never take it. Running away or completely disappearing seemed to be something they all had in common. Your father had to give up on love, small secret romances blossomed for a while, but never enough for it to go public.

That is why you were so scared to tell Clarisse of your status. She was smart, she’d realize being with you would not be worth the hassle. She’d leave you just like everyone else left your father. Clarisse was the love of your life, you don’t think you’d be able to handle it if she left.

You threw the drachma in, calling for the rainbow goddess to let you see your father.

“Dad,” you said, once the back of his head was visible.

He jumped, turning around. “Oh! My dearest daughter, you scared me.” He laughed a bit, looking at you with such soft eyes it almost made you cry. “Why are you Iris messaging me at this hour? Isn’t it time for you to be resting?”

You swallowed, a sudden knot appearing in your throat. “I just needed someone to talk to.” Playing with the ring around your finger that Clarisse gave you for your one year anniversary, you choked out. “I have this amazing girlfriend, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me here at camp and—” You stopped talking, taking a small breath, not noticing the familiar figure of Clarisse standing a couple of feet behind you. “—and I’m scared to tell her that I’m not who she thinks I am. That I’m not this girl that just so happens to be a daughter of Aphrodite. I love her so much and I want to tell her about you. I want to bring her to you in person because I want the two people I love the most to meet. But how do I do that when I haven’t even told her I’m a Princess and that the only way you two could meet is if I took her to our royal palace?”

Your father widened his eyes, not expecting his little girl to burst out her feelings just like that. He sighed, glancing behind your shoulder. “If this girl you love so much really loves you like you do her, she wouldn’t care about your status.” Staring at who he assumed was your girlfriend behind you, he continued. “She wouldn’t care that you hid this from her. Instead, she’d try to see it from your point of view.” Moving his eyes away from Clarisse, he looked at you, eyes squinting in light mischief. “You should tell her, she’ll understand. I love you.” Is all he said, before he was gone.

You’re left staring at a rainbow, your dad nowhere in sight. Suddenly, a branch broke from behind you. Turning around quickly, heart beating rapidly, you’re met with the eyes of your girlfriend. You immediately let out a gasp, not knowing she was there.

Clarisse speaks up. “You’re a Princess?”

You felt your mouth dry up. With wide eyes, you respond. “Please don’t hate me! I didn’t know how to tell you!” Walking closer to her, you reached your hands out, grabbing one of her own with both of yours. “Please, you have to understand. I didn’t want this to ruin us.”

She stayed silent.

Silence was haunting, especially coming from Clarisse, someone who was always provoking people and boasting loudly everywhere. You gulped, with lips shaking you asked, “A-are you mad?”

She lets out a huff. Was something funny? Was she annoyed? Angry? Did she not care at all? Those were the questions running through your mind. You’d find out the answers soon enough.

“Woah,” she shook her head, letting you see the slight amused smile on her face. “Me? Mad at you? No fucking way.” She reached her free hand towards your face, moving away the strand of hair that fell slightly over your eye. “It just… surprised me s’ all.”

You let out a breath, relaxing and putting your head against her chest. “Thank the gods, I thought you were going to break up with me or something.”

Reaching out again, she placed her forefinger below your chin, raising your head to meet her eyes. “How could I ever break up with someone so beautiful?” She leaned down, your lips grazing against each other’s. “Why would I leave when I can now be your knight in shining armor?” Closing the distance, your eyes fluttered shut. Butterflies were in your stomach just like the first time you two ever kissed. Without your lips separating, she put one arm around your waist, the other grabbing below your thighs, hoisting you up.

“Ah!” you screamed, separating your lips, not expecting it.

Clarisse smirked, seeing you get flustered. “You don’t have any shoes on.” You pouted, putting your arms around her neck so you wouldn’t fall while she walked back (not that she would let you fall off in the first place). “Didn’t think I’d notice, did you, princess?” Teasingly, she used the pet name, now knowing how much truth was behind it.

You whined, pressing your face against her neck. “You’re so unfair. I’m supposed to be the one flustering you.”

“Awe, the princess is mad,” she cooed, letting her lips touch the tip of your ear. “You want me to get on one knee and apologize?”

Clarisse laughed when you let out a loud groan, hitting her lightly on the chest. Smiling, she knew the only way she’d ever leave you was if she was six feet under. And even then, she’d find a way to get back to the land of the living just to be by your side.

The only things heard in the dead of night were the grasshoppers, chirping their little melodies into the darkness. That was until you muttered sleepily, letting out a yawn. “I love you.”

Clarisse repeated after you. “I love you.” Feeling your eyes fluttered close, she followed it with an almost silent “goodnight.”

Now that you were asleep, she felt panic slowly rise, steps quickening to reach the Ares cabin faster. She could only think about two things now.

Holy shit, she’s a Princess. Oh my gods, I met her dad.

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eamour · 1 month

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Hi i don't know if you'll reply/repost this ask but i really believe what i have to say is needed to help people in the manifestation community i am only sending this to you because you are one of the few active ones with a decent following that can get the word out..

The amount of complications people in this community have brought upon themselves is just infuriating and annoying the amount of creators/blog writers that come up with something new every week are just deceiving and preying on people who want to have a better life if you care i hope you'll post this.

Lies and overcomplications like;

'You shouldn't feel lack' 'don't focus on the 3d' 'know that you have it and go on with your life' 'this is the only way you can manifest' 'don't try to affirm or visualize it won't work its just endlessly affirming' 'feel it know' the amount of 3d and 4d 'live in imagination' is all a bunch of bs what Neville said is not the final! And you all seem to forget that

You can do all that and still get what you want sure! you can manifest this way too but why overcomplicate it?

(Yes there is a possibility that spreading this misinformation may not be necessarily intended to cause harm and might be just a misunderstanding from bloggers as well but it still causes to harm to those who are vulnerable and are just wanting to better their life and learn about manifesting)

None of this matters you are the only one who makes yourself manifest and there are many ways and you can use any way/method the problem on tumblr is people push only one way no you don't need to be fulfilled in imagination or 'know you have it and shut up in order to manifest sure Neville found a good way but its not the only way but the amount of people here who push this as if it's the only way and say if you don't do this you will never manifest are fcking playing with people's time and energy! i'm here to root for how far visualization affirming and robotic affirming goes,just for the average person its just such a quick and easy and 'failproof' way to 'get you desires' you don't need to hate the word 'get it' or something like that you don't have chase after knowledge or understanding to 'finaly manifest', when i went back to watching sammy and just affirming with no care about believe the thoughts no care about things like 3d or 4d no care about fulfilment or doing it to get it or anything like that...I've been carefree i don't worry at all...we are always learning about life and spirituality but you don't need an awakening or some sacred knowledge to manifest

You can read these posts that helped me but please no more,thats it no need to scroll and scroll and search for an answer

You don't need to read it all throughly just get the main idea you're good (most of them are short)

https://www.tumblr.com/imperfect777/744087420843245568/stop-scrolling-on-tumblr-twitter-pinterest-etc?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/miracledarling/715265433528320001/the-key-to-manifesting?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/sp0iledprincess55/744703729957257216/100-proof?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/dreamsintoreality111/672119540555153408/hey-do-you-prefer-to-change-appearance-through?source=share

My tips and experience..

All this time after being kinda obsessed with the void state (don't even get why people renamed the i am state by Neville lol) trying all things but just being lazy giving up restarting and going back to the old way of thinking, thinking 'why i fail' but now looking back and realizing i just got distracted and stopped never persisted .... now i realize how easy it is but what tumblr was doing was just discouraging me all along so many people lied or were misguided and said 'don't endlessly affirm just decide' implying if you try affirming you'll do it endlessly and never have what u want.. and so i listened....i used to watch sammy after a few videos last year i joined tumblr for a few 6 months at some point i was just reading things which have already been said and read..so i quit and decided to delete tumblr to just actually apply because reading the same thing over and over is no use...i'm now watching sammy ingram again so this is what i vouch for, affirming and thoughts watching sammy ingram (if just deciding or knowing seems like its not for you sammy ingram is great and in my opinion if i also just know or decide its mine then by affirming aren't i just reminding myself..'knowing' & 'deciding' in a way too?) again sammy joe dispenza is more helpful compared to tumblr over 6 months... i have logged back after a month typing this rn to help people and will delete my acc today even the creators i used to follow haven't posted in weeks and i urge people to leave tumblr after a certain point please live your life.

posting this for everyone who is currently overcomplicating the law and beating themselves up for not "doing it right". ♡

i want to add something: you can believe in all of these things (such as "feeling it real" instead of "affirming to get") and if it works for you, that’s good! that’s quite literally the law. but if it’s the opposite for you, if you think that it’s too much work and you would rather robotically affirm to get your desire, then do that.

i have seen both sides on tumblr and twitter, and they are both successful. it’s up to you what you want to make work for yourself!!

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vesora · 1 year

Text

all you got to do is sit there and look pretty: loa edition

DISCLAIMER: this was written before a series of realisations, the main point still stands but the subconscious mind does not exist. it is simply awareness. let go and let god.

one thing i have noticed, even in myself, is that we have this need to keep doing something. i need to keep affirming, i need to keep forcing myself into a state, i need to keep focusing on my thoughts or else it won’t manifest. all these thoughts have a common link, a fear of not manifesting, or rather, the 3D not conforming.

it’s not our fault. we have been primed to think this way. work this hard and you’ll get (x). this is not the way it’s supposed to be. with the law, we break free.

i need you to know that it’s okay if you’re consciously not thinking from your desire all the time. it’s okay that you don’t feel okay with entering another state if this one is too traumatic for you. relax and know the you on the outside, does not manifest.

who manifests then?

our inner self; our subconscious mind. our subconscious mind is us, but unlike our conscious selves, it is also the Universal Mind, meaning it knows all, it has all knowledge and power stored inside it. our job is to give the subconscious mind a job. as the conscious mind, we hold the key to decide to let what the subcon should manifest and not. we are the guard, we don’t manifest.

all we really have to do is be still and let God, and by God i do not mean some external being, i mean our subconscious mind; our true self. letting go and detaching doesn’t mean you will stop caring about what you’re manifesting, it simply means that you know that the subconscious will handle it for you. because the subconscious IS you, it’s a robot that only listens to YOUR command. it cannot be influenced by any other force.

experience

for the past few days, when i made the unfavourable circumstances post, i was feeling so incredibly awful. i felt i had no reason to live, because i thought me as the conscious sora, was responsible for changing my life. while that is true to an extent, all i have to do is give an order. i told my subconscious mind that night to fix everything for me because i was tired and the next day, all the things that were causing me distress got solved. the next day i had an even better day, because the subconscious really fixed the things causing me stress. life was peaceful again.

it was then i realised that i have been too attached with doing things right, when all i had to do was sit there and look pretty while my subconscious does the work.

another success happened just now! my browser froze and i didnt save this post. i panicked for a second then i was like “sora you just wrote a post about your subcon fixing things”; so i told my subcon “hey man fix this pls” and it did! lol browser is back to normal which is how ur seeing this post rn

what if my subconscious doesn’t listen?

anything that happens regarding these things is a direct reflection of you. inner creates outer, not the other way around. so, any failure is not because the technique failed, it’s because you haven’t changed self yet. and what changes self? persistence. you must keep persisting because the subconcious HAS NO CHOICE but to listen to you. if it ‘doesn’t’, DON’T ACCEPT IT.

persistence

And He said unto them, Which of you shall have a friend, and shall go unto him at midnight, and say unto him, Friend, lend me three loaves; for a friend of mine in his journey is come to me, and I have nothing to set before him? And he from within shall answer and say, Trouble me not; the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot rise and give thee. I say unto you, Though he will not rise and give him, because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity he will rise and give him as many as he needeth. And I say unto you, Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. Luke 11:5-9

in this verse that neville also referenced, we can see that the man did not give up. in fact, importunity means: the act of making intrusions, being unrelenting, consistent. unrelenting, he never took no for an answer. he kept going and going and going until the man decided to give him bread. do not take no for an answer. do not settle. even if the door seems shut, you will ALWAYS be the key to open it; there is no other choice. keep telling your subconscious mind that you are rich, you are beautiful, you are everything and your subconscious mind will have no choice but to reflect that onto the 3D because that is its job.

excerpt from power of awareness:

“THERE ARE three principal characters in this quotation, you and the two friends mentioned.

The first friend is a desired state of consciousness .

The second friend is a desire seeking fulfillment.

Three is the symbol of wholeness, completion.

Loaves symbolize substance.

The shut door symbolizes the senses which separate the seen from the unseen.

Children in bed means ideas that are dormant.

Inability to rise means a desired state of consciousness cannot rise to you, you must rise to it.

Importunity means demanding persistency, a kind of brazen impudence.

Ask, seek, and knock mean assuming the consciousness of already having what you desire.

Thus the scriptures tell you that you must persist in rising to (assuming) the consciousness of your wish already being fulfilled. The promise is definite that if you are shameless in your impudence in assuming that you already have that which your senses deny, it shall be given unto you – your desire shall be attained.”

#loa #law of assumption #Law of Attraction #law of abundance #law of belief #neville #neville goddard #consciousness #awareness #self concept #subconscious #subconciousmind #3d #4d #void state #manifestation #manifest #manifesting

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dreamcubed · 8 months

Text

me! | george weasley x reader

song; me! [taylor swift, brendon uri(n)e] pairing; george weasley x fem!muggle!reader genre; accidental marriage, s2l, fluff, comedy word count; 7,8k timeline; post-second wizarding war (fred lives au) warnings; swearing, referenced alcohol consumption, references to hook-ups, references to sex, references to the war summary; after waking up in bed with a red-haired stranger and no memories of the night prior, you run off as quickly as you can. it isn't until months later when you're trying to buy a house that you learn that you can't just leave that forgotten night in the past

thought it would be ironic to have the song with the lyrics "i promise that you'll never find another like me" and "i'm the only one of me" with one of the twins lol

masterlist

"you're the kinda guy the ladies want."

————————————————

Typically, you were more responsible than this. You had always stayed away from drunk hook-up culture, hoping (perhaps too idealistically) to find organic love. Yet, on the night of your cousin's bachelorette party, you got so drunk that you found yourself in bed with a stranger the next morning. And you didn't know what to do.

All you could do for a few moments was look around the hotel room that you had evidently decided was necessary for the hook-up - and although you couldn't remember a single thing after your tenth shot at the club, the fact you were both naked gave away the events of the night prior.

He was red-haired, and quite nicely toned, but he also donned a partially missing ear. You couldn't see his face, so at that particular moment you couldn't judge whether or not drunk you had good taste. You pushed that thought aside - that was the least of your concerns. You needed to get out of there and forget that anything had ever happened, which shouldn't be too difficult thanks to the alcohol-induced memory loss.

So, with that, you slipped out of bed and scavenged for all your clothes around the room, and then quickly departed. You made it all the way down to the lobby without any human interaction, but it was there at the desk that you finally had to communicate.

"Heading out for a bit, Mrs Weasley?" the receptionist smiled at you.

You frowned, not understanding why they would address you as such - probably had mistaken you for someone else. But, you were in a hurry, so just grinned and nodded, leaving to never return.

***

Not many people were fortunate enough to buy their first home (alone) at the age of twenty-four without any help from their parents, but you had chosen a rather well-paid career path and had been meticulous with your money savings, so this was a reality for you. After a few months of working with a real estate agent to view houses and find the perfect home for you, you had finally come to a decision.

You had stumbled upon it really, when travelling from London to visit your family, you came across a road that you had sworn hadn't been there before. Curiosity had overcame you, and you had driven down it to find the cutest village named Godric's Hollow, which could also be described as peculiar. A lot of things in the village didn't make sense - like the fact they all seemed bewildered at the sight of your car - but the architecture was gorgeous. When you drove past an adorable rustic cottage with a 'for sale' sign out front, you didn't even have to think twice about viewing it.

It was a strange process, however, as the sign didn't have a number for the real estate agency, but instead read 'owl Cauldron Realtors for more details'. You asked around for information about Cauldron Realtors (a particularly strange name, comparable to the robes many of the older members of the village wore), and they pointed you in the direction of the realtor's.

From then on, the process to view the house and apply for a mortgage had been relatively normal, if not a bit old-fashioned in the lack of technology used. However, you reasoned that it was a small village and that they merely hadn't updated themselves like cities just yet.

***

"Why have you asked me to come here?" you asked as delicately as you could upon entering Cauldron Realtors.

"We have had something come up," Mr Linseed said to you. He was an eccentric old man, constantly adorning a pair of half-moon spectacles perched on the tip of his nose.

"Like what?"

"You told us that you weren't married."

You frowned.

"And I thought it was a bit strange given your muggle situation, but honestly I had simply assumed that you were a squib."

He was using a lot of words that you didn't understand. You had heard the word muggle passed around in the time that you had spent in Godric's Hollow, but had been unable to find out what it meant online or in any dictionary. Everyone used it so commonly you had felt too embarrassed to ask.

"Obviously, this changes the process for you to apply for a mortgage. We need your husband to sign off either that he will partially own the house or have no claim over it."

"I don't understand- I'm not married," you said.

"No?" the man raised a brow at you, "When we searched for legal documentation of your name, we found that it hadn't been Y/N L/N for a few months, but instead Y/N Weasley. I didn't think much of you not having gotten around to changing your bank details yet since it hasn't been long, but going by your maiden name is a little strange. So, I assumed that the marriage was short-lived."

Why did Weasley sound so familiar? You wracked your brain for when you had heard it before.

"Heading out for a bit, Mrs Weasley?"

Your eyes widened.

The guy from the hotel.

"What did you say my husband's name was?" you said slowly.

"I didn't, but George Weasley," Mr Linseed replied, "You knew that, though, correct?"

You nodded, "Yeah... just making sure."

The man frowned at you, "He is quite well-known I suppose - the shop Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes is quite famous. Anyhow, here are the new forms that I need you to fill out and then we will be back on track."

You accepted them in a daze, but snapped your eyes up towards him again, "Where can I find Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

"Diagon Alley, of course," Mr Linseed was clearly confused that you didn't know where your husband worked.

You had never heard of Diagon Alley, and he sensed that.

"You know? Through The Leaky Cauldron? On Charing Cross Road?"

Finally, a name you recognised.

"Oh, yes. Thank you, Mr Linseed, I'll be back soon."

God, what a process to get yourself a house.

***

You were pretty sure that in all your visits to Charing Cross Road, you had never seen that pub squeezed between those buildings before. But, you weren't about to complain, as you were desperate to find George Weasley and sort everything out. You couldn't remember his face, but you remembered his red hair and partially missing ear - that should be enough to identify him.

You hoped, anyway.

Upon entering the gloomy pub, you were met by quite a shocking sight - but one that wasn't entirely indifferent to Godric's Hollow. Except, you would describe the pub as having a more creepy ambiance, in a way. Beady eyes peered in your direction as you walked up to the bar, and you tried to hold your own as a woman with matted grey hair and disturbingly long fingernails smiled at you with missing teeth. You forced a smile back.

"Excuse me," you said to the bartender, who was similar to the woman in energy, "How do I get to Diagon Alley?"

He pointed to the door out the back.

"Just through that door?"

"You'll need your wand too," the woman who had smiled at you said, "To tap the wall."

"Wand?" you squeaked.

"I'll show you," the woman said eerily.

In any normal circumstance, you would have declined the offer, but you had already had so many new experiences you found yourself following her out the back.

"You're not one of us, are you?" she asked with a giggle of glee, pulling out a wooden stick from her pocket.

You didn't reply, watching as she brought it up and tapped some of the bricks on the wall. To your amazement, they then parted, presenting to you the most bustling and magical street that you had ever seen.

"Diagon Alley," she stated, "Although I prefer Knockturn Alley."

You thanked her, and hurried into the street.

***

The pet shops were strange: mostly having owls, cats and toads. The book shops were strange: having cages of moving books in the display windows. The clothes shops were strange: pretty much exclusively selling robes and pointed hats. All in all, Diagon Alley was the most eccentric place you had ever been.

There was a broomstick shop, a wand shop, and a place to buy cauldrons. You were so out of your depth that you decided you should focus on the task at hand.

It wasn't long before you found a bright and buzzing shop named Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, looking ten times more exciting than all the shops before it. You were almost overwhelmed with all the young people inside once you entered, and it finally became obvious to you that it was a joke shop. The numerous prank items on display were clearly enchanted in a way too, only furthering your amazement at this street.

You scanned around for a redhead, but it was really difficult to spot anything within the chaos. Eventually, you located a flash of red by the till and hurried over. The queue was unfortunately long, but you waited impatiently nonetheless.

When you finally reached the front, the red-haired man behind it looked at you, and you couldn't help but noticed he had two full ears.

"Are you buying anything, miss?"

"I'm looking for George Weasley," you said quickly.

He rose an eyebrow at you, "What for?"

"It's a long story, I really need to talk to him."

"I'll fetch him," he said, and disappeared out back for a few moments before returning with a man almost identical to him save for that all-too-familiar ear. He didn't look at you like he recognised you - maybe he drank so much he had memory loss too? That would make sense, considering he hadn't tried to find you either.

"Can I help you?" George Weasley asked, gesturing for you to move to the side so that his twin could continue at the till.

"This is gonna sound crazy, but," you took a deep breath, "You're my husband."

"You're right, that does sound crazy," he chuckled.

"You woke up in a hotel room a few months ago, right?"

His eyes widened, "I thought I hooked up with someone," he said, "Wasn't sure, though, because I woke up alone."

"Sorry about that. I don't really do hook-ups, I kinda freaked out and bolted."

"I don't really do hook-ups either," he shrugged, "No hard feelings."

"Anyway, as I said, it turns out we got married that night."

"Wow. I honestly can't remember anything."

"Me neither," you shook your head, "And we can't get an annulment - the cut off is three months. And we were way too efficient with sending off the marriage registration - we did it immediately."

He hummed, "That's quite a predicament. Divorce, then?"

You nodded, "Yes, obviously. But that will take ages, and I'm trying to buy a house for myself right now. I need you to sign off that you have no claim over it."

"That's no problem," thank God he was agreeable, "But what's your name?"

"Y/N L/N," you said, "Well, legally Y/N Weasley."

The man smirked at you, which admittedly made your stomach flip. Drunk you definitely had good taste: this man was gorgeous.

"Where's the house you're buying?" he asked.

"Godric's Hollow."

"Ah, my sister lives there," he hummed, "Nice village."

"Can I ask you a question - since you're my husband and all?" you didn't know why you added the last bit.

"Fire away."

"Why does everyone keep going on about muggles and wizards and witches and magic? I'm so lost, I don't know what's happening."

"Wait- you're a muggle?"

"As everyone apparently keeps saying."

He chuckled, "Oh, wow. My wife's a muggle."

"What does it mean?"

"I'll explain," he gestured towards the door to the back room, "But it'll be a lot to take in."

"I don't care, I just want an explanation."

And so, your husband, George Weasley, explained about the wizarding world that he was a part of. And how, by marrying him, you had automatically been granted permission by the Ministry of Magic to be an exception for all anti-muggle charms. Which was why you discovered the road to Godric's Hollow all of a sudden as a non-magic person, which you learned was what muggle meant.

At the very end of his explanation, you sat back in the armchair he had offered to you, "That explains so much. It's insane- but I'm relieved that it's not me going crazy."

"Must be quite a shock," he hummed, "I can't believe we got married. Are there any photos?"

"I mean, I suppose we could find the chapel we got married at and ask."

"Maybe it will trigger some memories of that night. I got drunkenly married - who knows what else I did?" he sighed.

"I don't know if I want to know."

George shrugged, "Better to find out that way than have a random woman come into your place of work and announce she's your wife."

You grimaced, making him laugh.

"I'm just teasing."

"Can I get your number? So I can contact you when I need to?" you asked.

George stared at you, "Number?"

"How do wizards and witches communicate?" you exasperated.

"By owl."

You blanked.

"You might want to get yourself one if you're moving into a wizarding village."

"How do they know where to go?"

"They just do."

You sighed.

***

"So, I phoned the chapel that we got married at and they confirmed that we signed the marriage registration and sent it off immediately," you said to George, taking a seat opposite him in your flat that you currently resided in, "They also posted this to me." You presented a large envelope to your husband and watched as he carefully opened it - even though it was already unsealed thanks to you.

He pulled out a marriage certificate: lettered in italic gold writing and clearly signed on the bottom two corners. As he pulled that out, another piece of card fluttered to the ground. You chewed your lip as you watched him pick it up.

"Wow," was all he said.

It was the same reaction you had when looking upon the photo of you and George at the alter: lips pressed together with smiles creeping on to your faces.

"We look so happy."

You hummed, "The photo hasn't triggered any memories for me."

You watched curiously as he waved it about. "It's weird that muggle photos don't move," he commented, "But- yeah- I can't remember anything more either."

"Maybe it's been too long," you reasoned, "Perhaps if we'd seen the photo the day after, it would've helped."

"Probably," he shrugged, "I can find a charm or potion that will help us remember - if you want to."

It hadn't occurred to you that magic was now a readily available tool.

"I'm not sure, to be honest," you said after a while, "I just really want to seal the deal on my house."

George nodded, "Of course, I'll sign the papers saying I have no right to it."

"Thank you for making this so easy," you said, giving him a warm grin, "When I found out I was married, I was so worried it was to a complete asshole."

"When I found out I was married, I thought it was simply a cute way a gorgeous woman had of flirting with me."

You felt heat rush to your cheeks at his comment. George was a stunning man: his damaged ear only added a rugged element to him, enhancing his beauty in a way that you didn't know possible.

He noticed your flustered reaction and chuckled a bit, "However, there is one problem with me signing those papers that your real estate agent really should've mentioned."

"What?" you filled with worry: that house was your dream house.

"If you're buying a house in the wizarding world, you're going to need a wizarding bank account."

"He kept going on about galleons," you thought for a moment, "But then he converted to pounds so I didn't think much of it."

George hummed, "Yes, but you're still going to need to pay in galleons."

"How do I get a wizarding bank account?"

"Only wizards, witches, squibs and muggles married to any of the former can access one. Oh, and muggles with magic children, even if they aren't married."

You realised what he was getting at. "So I can get one, but..."

"But it has to be a shared one with me."

You pulled your hands down your face, "But I love that house so much."

"I promise you I'm not trying to trap you."

"No, no- I get it. I just- that means I'd have to stay married to you until my mortgage is paid off. And that takes like thirty years."

"Even then, the bills would still need to be paid in galleons."

"Oh, fuck," you muttered, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

George watched you in silence.

"I'm sorry. I'll divorce you and forget about the house," you said eventually, "It's not fair for me to force you to stay in a marriage for the rest of your life - I mean, I can't force you."

"I didn't say anything about that."

You frowned. In your mind, there was no other option.

"I'm willing to do it."

"George, it's just a house, you really don't need to-"

"I will," he reiterated, "You realise that if you divorce me, you won't be able to access the magic world anymore?"

It had become something you were so excited to explore that you were disheartened by that fact.

"It would be cruel for me to take it away from you, I think."

"But-"

"So, I will set you up on my bank account, sign off on the house, and stay married to you."

Your mouth was opened wide as you stared at him, and in a flash you had leaped across the coffee table in order to pull him into a hug.

"You're so amazing," you mumbled, hugging him tighter as he returned the embrace, "Thank you so much."

"Hey, anything for my wife," he chuckled.

Your heart stopped.

***

"I've had to change my name on my driver's license and passport and bank account and everything else," you sighed, "Such a hassle for a fucking house."

George, who was walking with you throughout the empty house that you had just officially bought, chuckled, as he seemed to enjoy doing, "You must really love this place."

You shrugged, "The house, I would probably get over. An entire magical world that I would lose access to? Not so much."

He hummed, gazing around the place. You had decided that he at least deserved to see the property that he had given up so much for you to own.

"I can't wait to begin decorating," you sighed, "I have big plans for the downstairs rooms and the master bedroom."

"What about the other bedrooms?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest," you pondered, "I'll probably make one of them an office, but the other two, I honestly don't know. It'll be a while before I have any kiddly winks running around."

"How come?"

"I need to find a man to create them with first," you reminded, "And that will be especially complicated since I'm married."

"Not if it's with me."

You were pretty sure his words held a joking undertone, so you laughed.

"Well, I shan't keep you any longer," you said, "I guess we'll keep in touch?"

"Stop by my shop as much as you can," George replied, but you sensed a slight trace of sadness in his voice.

Nonetheless, you smiled, "Of course."

***

Was two days later too soon to take George up on his offer of stopping by? Maybe, but life was too short for you to not do the things that you wanted to do. Plus, you were exhausted from moving furniture and painting (since you were stuck doing it the 'muggle' way), so a getaway from your new home was needed.

After getting someone from the Leaky Cauldron to let you into Diagon Alley, you made your way down to the corner that Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes sat on. You couldn't help the fond smile that tugged on your lips as you pushed open the door and heard the tinkle of the bell above you. The last time you were there, you had been too nervous about meeting your husband to properly appreciate the joyful buzz of the shop; it was truly a marvel to witness. You wish you had grown up with access to such extraordinary things.

"Hello," a redhead popped up beside you.

You jumped a little, not failing to notice the fact this man, although initially appearing to be George, had two full ears.

"Hello... Fred?" you attempted to recall his name.

He nodded, "I must say, I wasn't expecting my sister-in-law to pop by today."

It hadn't occurred to you that George would have mentioned his marriage to his twin brother, but now it seemed obvious that he would have.

"Is my husband here?" you asked, adding a joking undertone. Nonetheless, you couldn't help but notice how warm saying that made you feel.

"Of course, he's out back."

"Should I...?" you trailed off.

"You don't need to ask permission to go out back," he chuckled, in a strikingly similar way to George, "You're married to one of the owners."

"Yeah, but-" but before you could finish your sentence, your brother-in-law had disappeared. With a sigh, you proceeded on your way to the staff-only space, unable to push aside how special you felt being able to freely enter the area.

It was only when you caught sight of George's back did you realise that you had nothing to say and had simply stopped by.

"Y/N!" he smiled, turning around upon sensing your presence, "What brings you here?"

You shrugged, "You said to stop by often."

His grin stretched wider, "That I did, I'm glad to see you."

You felt shy after hearing him say that, and avoided eye contact.

"How's moving in going?"

"Oh- well. Exhausting, though," you sighed.

"I can't imagine having to do everything without magic," he said, "If you want any help to speed up the process, I'm more than willing."

You shook your head, "You've done enough for me."

"I could never do enough for you," he half-mumbled, but you heard it. You couldn't believe it, but you heard it. "I'm free this weekend," he said at a more regular volume.

"I mean- if you're sure-"

"Of course I'm sure."

"I-" you stopped yourself, "Thank you, George."

"Georgie!" a voice called from the front of the shop, not long before a short plump woman appeared in the doorway. "There you are," she said with hands on her hips.

"Oh, hi, mum," he said, "I wasn't expecting you."

"I was just in town looking to pick up your father a new shirt - I don't know how he wears them out so quickly!" she sighed, "I thought I'd take the chance to invite you over for a roast on Sunday."

You smiled at the evidently kind woman.

"And who is this?" she asked.

"This is Y/N."

"How did you two meet?" this time she had a glint in her eye.

"Uh, funny story, actually," George scratched the back of his head, "We're married."

You were surprised at his honesty with his mother.

The woman's eyes widened, "And you didn't tell me!"

"No one knew, mum- not even us," he quickly added.

She seemed to ignore what the last part of his statement implied, and swooped you into her arms, "Welcome to the family, my dear, we have a lot of time to make up for! You'll be coming on Sunday too, yes?"

She didn't give you a chance to reply.

"I'll have to tell your father immediately - do all your siblings know? I expect Fred does. Probably Ron too." She paused, "I haven't even introduced myself! Molly Weasley - call me Molly, of course."

"Mum-"

"Godric- I have so many people to tell! I'll see you both Sunday at four o'clock, please don't be late."

And with a hug to both of you, Molly Weasley departed just as rapidly as she had arrived.

"I'm sorry about that- my mum can be very full on," George apologised.

"I think she's sweet."

A soft smile graced his face, "Yes, she's a very lovely woman."

You hummed.

"I'll get you out of the dinner."

You frowned, "Why?"

"Well, my family will think you're- well-"

With a shrug, you replied, "I don't mind."

"I have a big family."

"I know."

"Most of them are quite loud people."

"That's okay."

"They'll ask a lot of questions."

"George, I want to meet your family," you realised as soon as you said them what your words could potentially mean.

"It's just- I- I don't want them to scare you away."

"Scare me away?"

He nodded.

You chuckled, "I'd like to see them try."

***

Sunday rolled around quickly, and as promised, George showed up at your house to pick you up at five to four. You figured that his parents must live very nearby if he was picking you up so late, but you hadn't given it much thought. All you had done was focused on yourself, dressing up what you deemed the adequate amount for a family event.

A knock sounded on the door, and you quickly rushed to open it, smiling when you were faced with the red headed man that you could call your husband. He was wearing a knitted jumper and baggy jeans, which was a relief to you since you also sported a knitted jumper, just with a skirt instead.

"Hello," you said, almost shyly.

"Hey," he replied, "You ready to go?"

"Yep, let me just-" you hurried back inside to grab the bouquet of flowers that you had bought for his mother, you weren't familiar with the guidelines for meeting family as you had never been in a relationship long enough to reach that stage, but flowers had felt like the right thing.

"Oh, for me?" he said teasingly.

You shook your head, dramatically holding them away from him, "You would be so lucky."

He chuckled, "Right, let's get going," he held out his arm for you to take, "You're gonna want to hold tight."

You frowned, but took his advice nonetheless, taking a firm grip of his bicep which had a hardness that made your heart flip. But before you could dwell on that thought, you felt like you had been sucked into a vacuum and spat out again in a split second. Your stomach cramped up and you felt nauseous as you fell on to grass in a completely new location.

"Sorry, that often happens the first time," George quickly helped you up along with the flowers, which thankfully were unharmed.

"Did we just- teleport?" you asked, holding your stomach. Thankfully, the nausea was already dissipating.

"We call it apparating but yes, we did."

"Why couldn't I be born a witch?" you whined, following George as he began walking up the path ahead of you.

You could only be amazed when the strangest house that you had ever seen came into view: looking like it should tumble over instantly with the mismatched extensions stacked on top of each other. Not too long ago, you would have been worried about its sketchy looking state, but now you immediately concluded that it was kept steady by magic. Even at the distance you still were from the house, you could hear a lot of noise coming from it.

"I bet you anything Fleur and Hermione insisted on being early," George grumbled, "Making my brothers look like angelic sons."

You smiled to yourself: his relationship with his siblings was making you want to reach out to your sister.

George didn't bother knocking when you reached the door, simply throwing it open and grinning at everyone who was stood around the kitchen. You couldn't help but feel some level of nerves as you were faced with so many strangers.

"George! Y/N!" Molly beamed, pulling you both into a hug, "I'm so glad that you could make it."

You presented the flowers to her, "I got you these."

"Oh, they're gorgeous!"

You watched as she pulled out her wand and arranged them in a vase without even using her hands. You didn't think observing magic would ever get old.

"Thank you, dear," she said, before turning to the others in the room. There was Ron, who you vaguely recognised from the shop, with a curly brown-haired woman on his side. Then there was the most ethereal woman that you had ever seen next to one of the more rugged looking men that you had seen in your time. There was also an older, balding, red headed man, who you suspected to be George's father.

"Y/N, you might remember Ron here," George said, and you nodded, "And this is his fiancée, Hermione. This is my dad, and over there is my oldest brother, Bill, and his wife, Fleur."

"Our little shit of a son is running around here somewhere," Bill added.

"Pleasure to meet you, Y/N," George's father shook your hand, "You can call me Arthur."

"I didn't realise you were bringing a guest, George," Hermione said.

"Oh, she's no guest," Molly smiled, "She's family."

The only person who didn't exchange confused glances was Ron.

"I'm his, uh, wife," you said, feeling awkward. You didn't really want to say it, because it felt like you were lying to them even though you weren't.

What followed was an array of congratulations, and Hermione accusing Ron of not telling her when he clearly already knew. And then, upon being asked, you both finally revealed that it was an accidental marriage upon which you were both very drunk. Molly was new to this news as well, but nonetheless, before you could give any more detail on where your 'relationship' with George currently stood, she spoke.

"As irresponsible as that was, I think there's something beautiful in the fact that you're now happily married."

While you weren't unhappily married, you didn't know how to say that you didn't know you were married until a couple months later, and that you weren't in a relationship with George. He said nothing to clarify, either.

That was when a small boy tumbled into the room.

"Ah, zis is Victoire," Fleur said, "Our son."

He was just as red headed as his father.

God, your kids with George would probably end up redheaded.

You internally froze at that thought - why had it seemed so natural to imagine yourself having kids with George?

You were yet again distracted from your mind, as seemed common in the Weasley household, when more people arrived. It was Fred and his fiancée, Angelina, as you soon learned. Shortly followed by Harry Potter, allegedly quite a celebrity, who was dating George's only sister, Ginny.

The only person to arrive alone was Percy, who had a much less chaotic energy than the rest of his siblings.

"You'll meet Charlie at some point," Molly said to you, "But he lives in Romania for his work with dragons."

It was insane to you that George had five brothers and one sister; having six siblings seemed like such a hectic upbringing. That thought almost led you to brush over Molly's mention of dragons - dragons?

Once again, you were introduced as George's wife, solidifying you in their eyes as a sister-in-law. These were your in-laws, you realised.

"Dinner's almost ready," Molly announced over the noise of all the people.

Many people rushed forward to help the woman with the finishing touches and laying the table, and you felt like an ass for not assisting as well, but you would have been of no help. They were all using magic, which was ten times faster than you could complete any task.

"What year did you graduate school? I can't remember you," Ginny said, evidently assuming that her lack of recognition was because you had been in a different year at Hogwarts from her. George had told you how most witches and wizards in a similar age group knew each other because of there only being one magic school in the country.

"I didn't go to Hogwarts," you said.

"Oh, did you study abroad?" she asked, walking over to the table with you.

"No, uh, I'm a- I'm a muggle."

Her eyes widened in realisation, "Oh! I see," she hummed, "That makes sense now that I think about it."

"You're a muggle?" Hermione, who had overheard, said.

You nodded.

"I'm muggle-born," she said, "I was raised muggle."

"I was raised muggle too," Harry added on, "But I'm not muggle-born."

After that point, Arthur Weasley kept posing an array of questions to you, explaining that he was fascinated by muggles, and it was even what had led him to having the job that he did. Wanting to be liked, you answered all his questions as best as you could, and found his childlike curiosity quite endearing.

"Leave the poor girl alone, Arthur," Molly scolded her husband.

"I don't mind," you replied, and, really, you didn't.

The food was absolutely delicious, to the point you almost moaned when you first put it in your mouth. You didn't think you had ever eaten such delectable food before, and you made sure that Molly knew.

Once the first course was finished and dessert was being brought out, Bill and Fleur stood up.

"We have an announcement to make," the latter smiled, looking to her husband.

"Fleur's pregnant," Bill grinned, placing his hand on her abdomen.

"Oh, that's wonderful news!" Molly exclaimed, "How far along?"

"Twelve weeks, two days ago," Fleur said, "In ze clear zone, as zey say."

"We don't know the gender yet," Bill added.

"For your sake I hope it's a girl," Molly sighed, "It took me six tries."

"We will be happy eizer way," Fleur said simply.

You couldn't help but get the sense there was some level of tension between her and Molly, so you leaned over to George as everyone began chatting again, congratulating the expecting couple.

"Do your mum and Fleur get along?" you whispered.

"Well, yes, but they haven't always," he whispered back, "My mum thought she was vain at first, even thinking that she would call off the wedding when Bill got that scar." He was referring to the large mark on his eldest brother's face.

You hummed.

"They've mostly resolved their problems now, but I think there will always be a bit of tension."

After dinner, you wandered around the home, observing all the moving pictures of the family.

"Aw, you were so cute back then," you said to George, looking at a photo of him as a toddler on a mini broomstick.

"Are you saying I'm not anymore?"

You shrugged.

"And how do you know that's me and not Fred?"

"You may be a twin, but there's only one of you, George," you said in passing, not realising how much those words meant to your husband. As much as he loved being an identical twin, there were times where he didn't want to be seen as part of a package deal. Even his mother struggled to tell him and Fred apart before his ear injury, but you- you could recognise him instantly.

Your gaze moved up the wall.

"That's an interesting clock."

It didn't tell the time, but instead had a hand for all of Molly and Arthur's brood, all currently pointing in the direction of 'home' apart from who must be Charlie, which pointed at work.

"Even on Sundays, he works," George sighed, "You know, there was a time where me and Fred had the same hand."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but after he moved in with Angelina, mum had it altered."

Your eyes flicked over the 'mortal peril' section of the clock, and you didn't realise you had read it aloud til he responded.

"Thankfully that hasn't served a purpose since the war."

It was unbelievable to you that such a life-changing war had happened while you remained completely oblivious.

"I suppose we'll have to expand the guest list for our wedding," Angelina approached you, making you turn away from the clock.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," you said.

"No, no. An extra person is hardly anything," she smiled, "You're family, of course you're coming."

Family.

"Well, thank you."

"Of course."

***

As you and George said your goodbyes and departed, you couldn't help but let out an elated sigh, "Your family is so warm."

He smiled, "I'm glad you like them."

"They're like, everything I want my in-laws to be."

"Really?"

"Yeah! Loud, happy, there for each other - with the slightest hint of drama, of course. They're perfect."

"We've been through a lot together."

"Yeah, I expect so."

You both fell into a comfortable silence, one that had you feeling content with your life in the most heart-warming way.

"You ready to apparate again?" George broke the silence when you reached the end of the path.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you grasped his arm tightly, prepping yourself for what was to come.

You didn't fall to the ground this time when you appeared outside your house, but you did still feel nauseous for a few moments.

"I'm really glad you came," George said.

"I'm glad too," you smiled.

And then there was silence - tension-filled silence. The kind of silence that led up to what you had secretly hoped would happen this entire time.

His lips on yours.

You moved your hands up to his hair as the kiss got more heated, flashes of memories dancing through your brain.

You met at the bar your cousin's bachelorette party was at, and began chatting. He was charming, and funny, and you were both really drunk. You went on a walk together - you walked past a chapel.

You had suggested getting married - jokingly, but he had then said.

"Why don't we?"

And so you did, giggling and laughing the entire time, even when you kissed. The kiss held the same magical feeling as it did now, that's what had triggered the memory.

He had kissed all along your jaw and neck as you both filled out the forms, and it wasn't long before you both booked a hotel and by all technical terms, consummated.

"I remember," you parted from him breathlessly, only to kiss him again.

"Me too," he mumbled, pushing you back against your front door.

"Do you want to come in?" you asked.

***

This time, you were the one to wake up alone in bed, but that wasn't the only difference. You remembered every single moment and sensation from the night before - and from your wedding night, for that matter. A smile almost crept on to your face, but it dropped when the panic set in that George had upped and left like you had before. You scrambled out of bed, pulling a shirt and some pants on, and then rushed down the stairs to see if he was anywhere in your house.

And he was.

There your husband was, in the kitchen, cooking a full English breakfast - using magic, of course. You had electric appliances installed when you moved in, since most magic homes didn't generally possess them, but with George there, you supposed they weren't really necessary.

"Hey, love."

Love. That's what he had called you all of last night and your wedding night.

It made heat travel to your ears.

"Hi," you replied shyly.

"Take a seat, I'm almost finished."

You obeyed, deciding to let the wizard take care of you, even though he really had done too much for you ever since you met him - the second time, that was.

Your dining table was a temporary one, as your entire home was still a work in progress: it wasn't easy decorating an entire house by yourself, especially without the assistance of magic. Nevertheless, it did the job. George came over with the food and sat opposite you, gesturing for you to dig in.

"Thank you," you smiled, picking up the cutlery.

"I told you, anything for you."

"You're too perfect," you mumbled, making George chuckle.

"My ear may be injured, but my hearing's fine."

You looked up at him to make eye contact, feeling like he could read you with his gaze, "Your ear makes you even more perfect."

"I'm glad you think so, would be a bit upsetting for me if you didn't."

"I aim to please," you grinned.

***

"You didn't tell me the wedding would be quite so soon," you huffed, straightening out the pastel pink dress you adorned in the mirror.

George shrugged, tightening his tie, "Didn't think about it."

You were, of course, in reference to Angelina and Fred's wedding, merely two weeks after the dinner in which you met the former. Out of all the moving boxes you still had left to unpack, you had been forced to dig for a suitable outfit that fitted the colour scheme.

Aside from work, you and George had been practically glued at the hip in the days since he first stayed at yours - and he had been consistently staying at yours ever since. He had probably spent about three nights total at his own flat in that time span. So much to the point that when he came over the day prior, he had brought his suit for the wedding with him, fully anticipating that he would be spending the night.

You hadn't put a label on what you currently were, other than legally married, as it was.

"We have to be early," he said, "Since I'm the best man."

"I'm aware," you replied, sitting on the edge of your bed to pull your shoes on, "I'm pretty much ready."

"Alright, let's go."

***

The ceremony was a beautiful occasion: held at the Weasley house, The Burrow. The entire garden was decorated beautifully in shades of pink, purple and white, with bouquets of flowers adorning every table and chair. Obviously, a drastic difference from your own wedding.

You were sat in the crowd while George was up near the altar with the maid of honour, but he was not your focus. Angelina was a transcendent bride.

When it came to the meal, you were - to your shock - sat on the primary table where the newly weds were. You supposed that it made sense, since George was obviously going to be sat by his twin brother, and you were his wife. Generally, married couples weren't separated at events. You were certainly relieved, since you hardly knew anybody else.

The only other people on the main table were Molly, Arthur, Angelina's parents, and Angelina's maid of honour and her partner. There was a second table for the rest of the Weasley siblings and their partners, and so on and so forth for more distant relatives and friends.

Once the toasts were made, the meal commenced, and you hadn't realised how hungry you were 'til that moment.

"Slow down, love," your husband commented, "I'd prefer if you didn't choke."

You shrugged, your mouth full. Once you had eventually swallowed, you said, "Much grander event than our wedding."

"We could always renew our vows," he said, and even though he had made many comments about wanting to do anything for you, and had done many intimate things to you in the bedroom (and elsewhere in your house, for that matter), it felt like the first real confirmation that you were in a relationship. Even more, that you weren't just in a marriage out of convenience, but instead because you simply wanted to be.

You parted your mouth to reply, when some children from Angelina's side began causing chaos by running around. "Lord, our kids better behave," you muttered.

George turned to look at you, and it was then that you became aware of what you had said.

"Our kids?" he was grinning.

"Shut up," you mumbled.

"Never - just let me know when you want to start, love," he winked at you.

"A bit too soon, I think."

He shrugged, "We got married within a few hours of knowing each other."

"We were drunk."

"We can get drunk again."

You sighed, "We don't even live together."

"I can move in."

You didn't have anymore rebuttals.

"Are you out of arguments now?" he asked.

You reluctantly nodded.

"Perfect."

***

Instead of apparating directly to your house, you and George decided to take a late night walk around Godric's Hollow. It was such a pretty village, and you had yet to appreciate its beauty in the dark, with all the magical lamps glowing around you. But, you knew that you and George needed to have a conversation, especially after the kids talk from earlier.

"Are we together?" you asked him, even though your interlocked hands should have answered the question.

"We're married, love."

"Yes, but are we together?"

"I'd like to think we are - do you?"

You remained silent for a few moments, before nodding and looking at him in the darkness of the night.

"Then there you have it."

"I just don't get why."

"Why what?"

"Why you've done so much for me when you hardly knew me."

George chuckled, "I admit, I don't know exactly when I made the decision to do anything for you, but when you strutted into my shop, determined as ever, and announced that you were my wife, I just-" he paused, squeezing your hand, "You looked so cute and I knew- in that moment- that I would never meet someone else like you."

You felt like you were melting on the spot.

"It may have seemed selfless that I helped you get the house - but, to be honest, it was the perfect excuse for me to trap you to me- make it easier for me to pursue you, that is."

"I love you, George," you sighed.

"I'm glad, because I've loved you for quite some time now."

"Love at first sight?"

"You would be so lucky."

You let out a childish giggle at that.

"But, yes, I think it was."

——————————————————

masterlist

written; 18/08/2023 —> 03/09/2023 published;04/09/2023 edited; —/—/——

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cheolaholic · 9 months

Text

ring of love; csc (01)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

a/n; AND THE FIC IS OUT 💃🏻✨

ngl, i posted up the teaser at around 1am just to see how it'd go (was planning on deleting it right afterwards if nothing showed up). i woke up like 6 or 7 hours later and holy shit yall - i wasn't expecting it to get so much attention or blow up 😭 and it was just a TEASER 😭✋🏻 i've also gone through the small notes section of the taglist form (my favorite is the one that said they like my brain lol) either ways, i'm so glad you're all as excited as i am for this fic 🥹🫶🏻 it really means a lot to me <33

i'd also like to point out that i'm writing this fic as i go, kind of going with the flow, so, occasionally some things might not make sense but let's hope the flow goes well 🙏🏻

taglist at the end !

click here to join the taglist ♡

“hey there, babygirl,” vernon greeted as he took a seat in front of you at the library desk.

the nickname had you looking up from your laptop, shooting the boy a grimacing look.

“vernon, what the fuck?”

vernon chwe, an art major you had met on the first day of college during orientation, since both of you were in the same freshman group during said orientation.

you were entirely new to seoul, having spent most of your life in a small town in daegu (alongside your introverted nature, talking to new people while having to adjust to your new surroundings was basically an introvert’s nightmare).

when vernon approached you during one of the 30 minute breaks, he handed you a bottle of coke, a friendly gesture you appreciated a lot. that wasn’t what caught your eye though - it was his clothes. it’s not every day you’d see a college student wearing a bright neon tie-dyed shirt.

when vernon noticed your staring, he simply said “ah, yeah, the rest of my clothes are in the dryer. i’m vernon, by the way! vernon chwe!”

“...i’m ___,” came your response, “lee ___.”

from then on, you’ve both been stuck to each other like glue. always seen together to the point you both had been mistaken as a couple one too many times.

guess the saying of 'you're not real besties unless people think you're a couple' is true to an extent.

though you both have made it clear that the relationship between the two of you is strictly platonic.

the boy laughs at your reaction before shutting up as a few students shoot him a dirty look, a few others shushing him. “it’s fun messing with you, ___,” he said in a soft voice, not wanting to get on the nerves of the other students, “watcha working on?”

“just the usual presentation preparations,” you answered as you pushed back up your glasses and continued typing away.

“is this a group or solo project?”

“solo, which thank god. if this was a group and i had another bad luck on my groupmates, i was going to lose it.”

vernon cringes at the mention of groupmates. in your previous group assignment, you were stuck with not one, not two; but three parasites. he remembered how sleep deprived and stressed you were throughout the semester for said group project. he’d gotten you to submit an email to the lecturer in charge, writing out in extreme detail how you had to bear the responsibilities of the group members while they were out and about, partying, going out on dates etc.

however, you decided to go even further than just submitting an email.

it was the day of the presentation. as your lecturer sat in the front row seat alongside two other faculty members, you looked at your parasitic freeloading groupmates that were standing to your left.

“are you guys ready?” you asked in a quiet voice.

when they nodded their heads, you smiled as you pressed the clicker in your hand. anyone would have assumed your smile was that of an encouraging smile. you however, knew better.

as the first slide was projected onto the projection screen, the topic of the presentation was written in a big font while all four names of yours and your groupmates were written underneath it.

as you pressed on the clicker, one by one, the names of your groupmates began to be removed from the slide. the classroom was confused before catching on - you were calling out your group mates for being parasites.

your groupmates watched in a panic state as the students began whispering amongst themselves; the faculty members jotting things down on their clipboards.

once all the three names were removed with your name being the only one left on the slide, in a calm and collected voice, you said, “now, shall we begin the presentation?”

vernon remembered the proud expression you had when he met up with you the same day. “how’d it feel?” he asked, having helped you with your research and planned out the execution for the revelation of the free loaders.

“amazing!” came your reply with a beaming smile, satisfied.

“whatever happened to those three anyways?”

shrugging, you heard from some classmates that they had either gotten suspended or needed to retake the class. but, you didn’t care.

why would you?

if anything, you were glad you didn't have to deal with them for the rest of your studying years.

"hmm, fair enough," vernon responded before placing both arms on the table, leaning forward, "so, got any friday night plans?"

"if you're planning to drag me to a frat party-"

"not a frat party."

looking up from your laptop with an eyebrow raised, the boy just shoots you a smile - a smile that you can't help but feel suspicious of.

as you saved your work progress and shut down your laptop, vernon spoke again.

"have you heard of underground boxing?"

"i am not going to get in a boxing ring."

"you don't have to!"

once you've packed up your stuff and headed out of the library together, he explained more about the underground boxing.

it's a monthly event and is usually held somewhere in itaewon. when you mentioned that you didn't think vernon was the type to take part in these events, he replied with, "that's because i don't. a close friend of mine does and i usually go to support him with two other close friends!"

"and where do i play a part in this… support group?"

"don't hate me for this, okay? i just think that you could use some outdoor time, ya'know? i know you're introverted and want to hole up in your apartment the entire weekend, but it wouldn't hurt to try something new!"

you were silent for a moment.

"so, i'm a bore, is what you're getting at."

"what!? no! absolutely, not!"

when you let out a laugh at vernon's reaction, it had a few students around both of you stunned.

maybe it's due to your introverted nature that everyone assumed you'd be cold-natured too, black cat energy they call it.

but to vernon, he knew it wasn't the case. you just needed to be around the right people or in a setting you're familiar/comfortable with to be yourself.

'naturally introverted, selectively extroverted' as they called it.

"i'll go if you pick me up."

"does seven sound good to you?"

"yeap."

"aight, bet."

introverted ass: ik i should've asked this earlier

introverted ass: but is there like a dress code or smtg?

introverted ass: bcs i don't wanna show up looking extremely out of place

vrrnonie: casual should be okay

vrrnonie: maybe bring a jacket along

introverted ass: but it's a boxing match

introverted ass: wouldn't it be hot and stuffy from all that sweat

introverted ass: ?

vrrnonie: it's actually air conditioned, believe it or not

vrrnonie: and it's well ventilated too

vrrnonie: and there's not much people, dont worry

vrrnonie: the place can hold up to 100+ ppl

vrrnonie: but they usually only let in abt 70-ish?

vrrnonie: not wanting to be too stuffy, crowd control etc

introverted ass: so i'm assuming i can just wear my sweater and tights?

vrrnonie: yeapp

vrrnonie: reaching in 10 btw

introverted ass: wtf

vrrnonie: you can do your makeup in the car when we reach

vrrnonie: it doesn't start til 10pm so we can grab some dinner

introverted ass: again, wtf

vrrnonie: love ya bestie 😘

introverted ass: 🙄✋🏻

true to his word, vernon did show up ten minutes later at your apartment front door.

parking his mercedes-benz in one of the few empty spots, he then brought you to a diner he deemed to have the best burger in all of itaewon (of course that was after he let you finish doing your makeup, as he had promised you).

"so… how long have your friends been doing this whole underground boxing thing?" you asked, stabbing a few fries on a fork before shoving them into your mouth.

"oh, just one of them actually," vernon replied with his mouth half full of his beef burger. "wonwoo hyung acts as the manager while mingyu hyung and i are there as first aiders. occasionally, we'd help him train too. but, mingyu is the one he trains with since he works out more than i do."

"does this boxer friend of yours have a name?"

"i can't really say his actual name out here. but, his stage name is scoups!"

why does that stage name sound so familiar… you ponder.

it's now 1230am and you've been out way longer than you should be (technically, more like longer than you wanted).

by right, shou should now be on your bed, cuddled up in your blanket as you binge whatever series or movies are available on the many streaming platforms offered.

yet, here you are - in an underground boxing ring somewhere in itaewon all because your best friend had decided you should spend more time outside.

the match was nearing its final round and based on what you've heard from the people sitting beside you (vernon had left to go to the locker rooms where his friends were; but had assured you everyone is respectable and won't try anything weird. it didn't reassure you completely to be left alone in the crowd, but any kind of reassurance is acceptable at this point), it seems that the two final boxers would be JK and scoups.

(you had also taken a lot of toilet breaks due to the overwhelming feeling of being in a crowd for an extended period of time)

you still ask yourself why the name 'scoups' sound so familiar…

it was only when the loud cheers snapped you out of your thoughts, causing you to shift your focus onto the ring that you finally realise why that name sounded so familiar.

because right in that boxing ring, stood an old face you've been longing to see for years.

choi seungcheol.

taglist (i can't tag a few for some reason ㅠㅠ);

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwoo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetener @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnotthelastofus @yearnoclock

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scentedpeachlandcreator · 4 months

Text

DON'T EVER SETTLE FOR LESS!

So here's a quick story that happened to me that made me realize that i shouldn't settle for less when manifesting my desire.

QUICK KINDA SUCCESS STORY:

Last year, i decided to manifest a phone since i haven't had one. I wanted an iPhone 14 pro max, so i decided the color, the model and the storage, so i started affirming and persisting that i have an iPhone 14 pro max. Still, the thing is that i thought “hmm…i don't think i deserve this phone it too expensive and i can't afford it” that THE MISTAKE I MADE because i thought that i didn’t deserve it or it was too impossible to have. Still, the good thing is that it made my strict parents agreeing on buying me a phone (they were really against it lol) but i ended up with an oppo, i wasn’t satisfied with what i got, i haven’t got what i wanted because of my stupid limiting beliefs. and the second mistake is that i kept switching between affirming for an phone 14 and another phone, which confused my subconscious for sure.

ᘏ so what i’m trying to say is that no matter what don’t ever settle for less because you think it impossible to have or it is too illogical, you deserve everything and more.

‹ ᪤︎💭 𖥦 and these are the post that opened my eyes and made me understand what i meant:

★I hope y’all understand that you deserve manifesting a billion-dollar mansion, a Tesla or Mercedes car, an expensive setup, to become a millionaire, a famous influencer, and many more, this also includes manifesting illogical supernatural things.

Remember :

YOU'RE LIMITLESS!

and

FUCK THE 3D, THE IMAGINATION MATTERS.

so happy manifesting!

#loa #how to manifest #law of assumption #law of manifestation #void state #loa success #loa assumptions #loa tumblr

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onlyfezco · 3 months

Text

Obvious - Fezco

Summary: You insist on meeting your cousin Rue's drug dealer and an interesting friendship develops in the process.

Fezco x Reader

Word Count: 4,840

Author's Note: Started this in March of 2022 and it's finally getting posted lol. This is my first Fezco fic since Angus' passing which is so hard to type I'm crying at that. I still miss him. A lot. Dividers from @firefly-graphics

Rue was your closest cousin. Not that you had many, and the few you did have lived somewhere outside of East Highland, but that was beside the point. She was a year younger than you, so the two of you spent most of your childhood glued to one another. When her dad died, you saw the toll it took on her. You realized then that she started using but she played it off like she had it all under control. That’s what an addict does. Eventually you did confront her about it. She said it was mostly weed, so you let it slide. One day she had you drive her to restock her supply. That’s when you met Fezco for the first time.

“So you’re the guy selling my baby cousin drugs,” you blurted out after Rue did a quick introduction then started making her way to Ashtray behind the refrigerated drinks.

“Y/N, what the fuck,” Rue shouted at you annoyed. “You’re only a year older than me.”

“A year and three months,” you corrected. You only got specific with the three months to annoy Rue. You crossed your arms over your chest as you eyed the ginger sitting on the counter in front of you. “And how old are you?”

Fez observed you carefully. It’s not everyday some random person immediately brings up him selling drugs directly to his face. Especially a cute random person. “You always talk to new people like this?”

“Only when my cousin’s health is at stake.” You sighed and shook your head. “Look, I don’t have beef with you. I realized a while ago that Rue’s gonna do what she wants. I just want to make sure she’s being safe about it... well, as safe as you can get with drugs.”

Fez nodded along as you spoke understanding your concern for your cousin. He knew Rue wasn’t going around promoting that she was doing drugs or that he sold. You were just looking out for her. “I get it.”

“I’ve heard too many stories about people overdosing on Fentanyl or something they didn’t know was laced with Fentanyl. I don’t want to find out that happened to my cousin.”

“You don’t have to worry, ma. I don’t mess with that shit. All my stuff is good.”

You squinted at him taking in his words. “Better be. Otherwise I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Fez chuckled. He didn’t doubt for a second you wouldn’t fight behind Rue. “Understood.”

“You go to school with Rue? I ain’t never seen you ‘round before.” Fez went to most of the East Highland High School parties to deal. Since he’s never seen you there, either you didn’t go to that school, or you didn’t go to parties. Either way, he was missing out on you.

“Oh God, no,” you said. “I go to Centenary.”

“Oh, so you smart smart.” You smiled and rolled your eyes at Fezco’s statement, and he decided right then and there that was something he wanted to see more of.

“Something like that,” you replied giggling.

“You ready to go, Y/N,” Rue popped up practically out of no where and asked. Damn, why did Rue have to be so quick.

“Uhh, yeah,” you said to your cousin. Rue shoved her hands into her dad’s old maroon jacket and started to walk out the store. You turned to Fezco and said, “I’m gonna be watching you, sir.”

Fez smiled at the thought. “I look forward to it, ma.”

After that, you made a few impromptu trips to Fez’s store without Rue. You told him your grandma lived in the neighborhood, which she did, so it wasn’t a lie. But Fez did point out that before Rue, you had never came to the store before.

“I mean I could always go somewhere else for my carbonated beverages if you want,” you said as you turned on your heel to leave the store without making your usual purchase.

“Nah,” Fez replied grabbing your wrist stopping you, “I ain’t say all that.”

When your mom told you that Rue overdosed, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Maybe if you had told your Aunt Leslie what Rue was doing, she could have got some help. But you knew Rue. Ever since her dad’s death she had been struggling. She would have to finally deal with that grief if she was going to stop, and you knew that was the last thing she wanted to do.

A few days after Rue’s overdose, you went to visit Fezco. You weren’t sure if he knew or not. Even though he was her dealer, he was close to Rue, so you thought he should know. And it would be better coming from you than to hear it on the street.

“Well if it isn’t Y/N Y/L/N,” Fezco greeted you with a smile on his face.

You tried to smile at the red head, but it was weak. “Hey Fezco.”

“What’s wrong,” Fez asked, immediately knowing something was up.

You walked to him fiddling with your fingers nervous to tell him about your cousin. “Uh... it’s Rue,” you said looking up at him with somber eyes. “She overdosed.”

Fez’s face became tense. He didn’t question it. He wasn’t shocked, just sad.

You couldn’t take looking into his piercing blue eyes any longer and set your eyes on the candy on the counter. “She’s still at the hospital going through withdrawals. Aunt Leslie’s going to put her in rehab when she gets out.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Fez said as he placed his hand on your arm to comfort you. Your eyes met his again and you could tell he genuinely felt bad.

“Its..,” you paused and laughed. “I was going to say it’s okay, but its not. She didn’t die, so that’s great but... I didn’t know it was this bad with her.”

Fez dropped his hand and leaned against the counter behind him. “Why’d you come here, ma?”

You looked at him confused. “What are you talking about? Rue’s your friend, I thought you should know.”

“She is but... you ain’t come here to blame me?”

You were taken aback. “No, Fez. It’s not your fault. Rue made a choice. And if she didn’t get her drugs from you, it would be someone else.”

Fez was quiet as he took in what you said. You wanted to, no, needed him to understand this wasn’t his fault.

“Listen to me Fezco. Rue’s got a lot of problems that she has to deal with. She was using drugs to cope with her grief. I know you wouldn’t want her to OD. I’d rather know she was going to you for her fix, than some random guy who didn’t give two shits about whether or not she lived or died. So I don’t want you putting any of this on yourself, okay?”

Fez gave a small nod to let you knew he understood. You don’t know if he actually believed what you said, but you were glad it was out there.

Over the summer, you visited the store more frequently. You did see him outside the store once at a pool party. Of course you pointed out that you’d never seen him at a party before. Your crowd was a little different than the East Highland High School bunch. Fez played it off though, but you knew he was only there for you.

An unexpected hangout occurred one evening when you stopped by the store on a cloudy day. The flow of customers was already crazy slow, then it started raining and store had been empty besides you, Fez, and Ash for the last hour.

“Aye, bro, can we go home? I’m bored as shit,” Ash said coming from behind the refrigerators.

Fez looked to you sitting on top of the freezer that held the popsicles and ice-cream before he spoke. “Uh, yeah. Go head and pack up.”

You hopped off your self designated spot in store. “Welp, I guess that’s my queue to head home.”

“Nah,” Fez said and stopped you in your tracks. “You ain’t gotta go home.”

“But I gotta get outta here,” you interrupted giggling.

“Nah, ma. I was finna say you could come to my place and hang... if you want.”

Your eyebrows shot up. Fez’s and your relationship mostly consisted of you just hanging out at his store while he worked. The two of you texted every now and then, but that was about it.

“Oh... Uh, sure,” you managed to stammer out. Then you realized that didn’t sound very enthusiastic so you added, “Yeah, I’d love to come over.”

You followed Fez and Ashtray home in your car since you drove yourself to the store. You were anxious the whole way there and the rain definitely wasn’t helping.

Fez’s place looked homey. The living room felt familiar; the couches reminding you of your grandma’s house.

“You want anythin’ to drank,” Fez asked making his way to the kitchen.

“Uh, no, I’m good. Thanks though,” you replied slowly making your way to where he went. It was always awkward the first time you went over to a friend’s house.

Fez reappeared from the kitchen with a beer in his hand. He eyed you for a second before speaking. “You want to watch a movie or somethin’?”

The rest of the evening was spent on Fez’s couch, watching old 90′s movies. Even Ashtray joined you for one. It was nice. It felt normal, not like you somehow became friends with you cousin’s drug dealer.

“Oh my God, Fezzy,” you shouted excitedly. “You won’t believe- Rue,” you paused when you saw your cousin coming from the back door that led to Ashtray. You glanced at Fez, then back to Rue. “What are you doing here?”

“Just popped in for a visit,” Rue answered. Her hands fidgeted in her pockets of her dad’s jacket.

“Unhuh...,” you hummed knowing she didn’t just stop by to see the boys.

“What are you doing here,” Rue asked curious.

“I came by to see Fez,” you stated quickly. “You just got out of rehab, Rue.”

Rue rolled her eyes at you. “Yeah, and I had no plans on staying clean. I learned my lesson cuz. I know my limits now.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “You only know your limits cause you overdosed Rue! You almost died!”

“Key word being almost.”

“Oh my God,” you shook your head again turning away from the conversation. “I’ll talk to you later, Fez,” you said then turned to walk out of the store.

“Hey, Y/N,” Rue said and you stopped in your tracks. “You’re not gonna tell my mom are you?”

You huffed exhausted by your cousin. You telling her mom should be the least of her concerns. You still faced the door but turned your head to look at Rue. Your eyes glossed over with frustrated tears. “I wish you cared about yourself like the rest of us do.”

Two weeks went by before you saw Fez again. The ginger was starting to think you blamed him for Rue’s relapse. Even though you had told him Rue made a choice to do drugs so it wasn’t his fault, your silence made him think you thought otherwise now.

It was Sunday afternoon when Fez heard someone at his door. He looked through the peephole and saw you, then quickly opened the door.

“What’s up, ma?”

“Hey... I went by the store first but you weren’t there. I know I should have called or something, but I just wanted to see you.”

“Nah, you good. I’m just surprised is all.”

“Is this a bad time?”

“Nah, come in,” Fez said then stepped to the side to let you in.

“Thanks,” you replied as you walked past him. You had only been in Fez’s place once, but it felt familiar. You just stood in the entry way while Fez closed the door. “Um, can we talk?”

“Yeah, come on,” Fez said nodding towards the living room.

Fez took his usual place on the couch and you followed suit sitting beside him.

“I’m sorry about ghosting you these last two weeks,” you said, not being able to make eye contact with him. You felt guilty for ignoring him even though your issues were with Rue. Fez just sat there quiet. He wasn’t a man of many words, but you needed him to say something. “Not to sound cliché, but it was me not you.”

“It sure felt like it was because of me,” Fez said.

You turned on the couch to face him more. “It wasn’t, Fez. I promise. I’m mad at Rue, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

“Yeah, but she got her drugs from me and Ash. I could have told her no.”

“And then she would have thrown a fit and went somewhere else. Probably somewhere dangerous.”

“Why you keep makin’ excuses for me? You shouldn’t be anywhere near me.”

“What,” you asked, your eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “Fez, no, I don’t want to be anywhere else but near you.” You spoke before you could realize what you were saying but it was true. Fez finally looked towards you and you averted his eyes. The silence was too loud. You were careful with your next words. “If I have to tell you every day, then I will,” you said slowly then looked back up at him. “Rue’s choice to do drugs, and keep doing them after her OD, is hers and hers alone. It’s not your fault.”

Fez took in what you said and how it made him feel then began to shake his head. “Nah, y/n. You tryin’ to justify it still don’t make it right.”

“Fine,” you said exhausted, throwing your hands up in the air. “It’s not right! Rue coping with drugs. You selling her drugs. None of it is right, okay! But Rue is family and you’re my friend. So I’m not going anywhere,” you shouted then just fell back into the couch crossing your arms over your chest.

Fez just watched you from his place on the couch. Anger and annoyance evident on your face. The situation sucked, but Fez didn’t want to lose you. He was worried if Rue overdosed again, not only would he lose a sister, but you would never forgive him. Regardless of how much you told him it wasn’t his fault she was on drugs, he was the supplier. But, if you wanted to keep being friends with him, who was he to tell you no.

“Aight, ma,” Fez drawled out in his usual tone.

“Aight what,” you asked for clarification.

“You’re right... and stubborn,” Fez said, trying to stifle a laugh.

You eyed him cautiously. “Elaborate.”

Fez stayed sitting forward, but turned his head turned towards you and let it fall back on the couch. “Rue’s gonna find a way to do drugs whether or not I give them to her. She was on them before she met me.”

You uncrossed your arms resting them in your lap as you sighed feeling sorry about your cousin. You hated the mess she got in and wished for nothing more than her sobriety. While you were thinking about Rue, Fez’s hand grabbed your forearm then slid down to your hand, pulling it so it was on the empty cushion space between you two, so he could hold it.

“And you’re right about us being friends,” Fez continued. You bit your lip trying to stop your grin from getting too big, and Fez returned a small smile.

After that day, you had seen less of Fez than you usually had in the summer. It was your senior year, so you were busy trying to keep your grades up while staying active in your clubs. You explained your schedule to Fez so he didn’t trip at the fact that he was seeing less of you.

Things between you and Rue were strained. After you talked to Fez, you talked to your cousin and told her if she kept doing drugs you weren’t going to stick around and watch her kill herself. You were no longer holding any sympathy for what she was going through. Your Aunt Leslie and Gia managed to keep living without having their grief hold them back, why couldn’t Rue at least try? But Rue became spiteful, not caring that you were cutting yourself off from her.

You missed how things were in the summer. No stress. Rue was in rehab so you knew she was safe. Spending afternoons at Fez’s store. Missing Fez was how you found yourself at an East Highland party. One of your friends brought it up and you were quick to agree to the outing. You knew he would be dealing at the party, and that was more than enough of a reason to go.

“Hey,” Rue said plopping down on the couch by Fez.

“What’s up, kid?”

“What’s going on with you and my cousin,” Rue asked, cutting straight to the chase. She was never one to beat around the bush.

“Whatchu mean,” Fez asked.

“Y/N doesn’t do parties. Especially not East Highland parties. And I know she’s not here for me.”

“Shit, she might be here for you,” Fez replied nonchalantly but he was hoping you were here for him. He missed seeing you on a regular basis.

“Nah, she’s not even talking to me right now. Cut me off cause I won’t stop using. Trying to teach me a lesson or some shit,” Rue said while she rolled her eyes. “So much for family.”

“Don’t say that shit, Rue.” Fez was getting agitated, because he knew how much you cared for her. “That girl loves you. She just wants you to do better.”

“If she loved me, she wouldn’t leave,” Rue argued, her shoulders tensing up.

“Nah, kid. That’s not how love works. She just doesn’t want to sit around and watch you kill yo’self.”

Rue sat there stunned, your words replaying in her head. “That’s exactly what Y/N told me... how much have you two been hanging out?”

Fez just shook his head as he took his blunt from behind his ear and lit it. “She misses you. Talk to her, Rue.”

You had been at the party for about an hour now. Attempting to play it cool as if Fez wasn’t the sole reason for you being there, you were trying to wait before you went and actually spoke to him. You noticed him a few minutes after you arrived. The two of you made eye contact and waved, but that was it.

Finally managing to leave your friends, you were making your way to Fezco when Rue stepped in front of you.

“Oh sor- hey Rue.”

“Hey, cuz,” Rue said. She looked... nervous. She was fidgeting with her jacket’s hood strings. Her eyes looking practically everywhere else but at you. “Um, can we talk for a sec?”

You looked past her to see Fez still sitting on the couch. Some guy coming up to him to make a deal. “Uh, yeah. Of course. Let’s step outside.”

Rue nodded, then you both made your way to the front door. There was too much going on in the backyard to have a private conversation there. You opened the door and let Rue step out into the cool night air first.

You leaned against one of the front porch beams while Rue just stood there awkwardly and shoved her hands into her jacket pockets.

The silence between you two was awkward which was a first. You tried to wait for Rue to speak, but she struggled to find the words.

“What’s up, Rue?”

“Umm, I just- I,” Rue stammered out while she fidgeted in her spot. “Shit, I’m sorry, Y/N. We’ve never not talked to each other like this and I hate it. I miss you.”

You sighed, sorrow filling your eyes. “I miss you, too, cousin.”

Rue’s eyes glossed over as she started to smile. “Uh, I haven’t been using as much anymore.”

You reached out and placed your hand on her wrist for a moment. “That’s great.”

Rue nodded, her eyes dogging around. “Yeah... I met someone.”

“Oh,” you replied, your eyebrows rising up in surprise. You were thrilled Rue was using less, but you knew if her sobriety was because of a person, it wouldn’t last long. “Do I know them?”

“No, she’s new. Her name is Jules.”

“Jules,” you repeated, making sure you pronounced it right.

Rue nodded, her smile growing bigger. “Yeah, she’s here tonight. Pretty blonde in the bright pink mini skirt.”

“You look happy.”

She ran her fingers through her curls, pushing her hair back. “I’m working on it.”

It was quiet for a moment as you looked down at your cousin. “Hey, Rue.”

“Yeah?”

“I know we haven’t been talking, but... you know I’m here if you need me.” You placed your hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

“I know,” Rue said nodding. Then you placed your other hand on her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug. Since you were on the step above her, you towered over her in the hug so you sat your chin on her head.

“Okay... you can let go now, Y/N,” Rue said after you were holding onto her a little too long.

“No, gotta make up for lost time,” you said, hugging her tighter.

“It wasn’t that much time.”

“It felt like forever,” you said dragging out the r then placing a bunch of kisses on Rue’s head.

“Ew, okay okay, I get it,” Rue said squirming in your arms. “Why don’t you go and kiss Fez?”

You stopped abruptly, pulling back slightly to look down at Rue. “Why would you say that? Did he... did he say something to you?”

Rue gently pushed herself out of your arms. “No, but it’s obvious something is happening between you two.”

“What,” you asked shaking your head, nervously running your hand over your hair. “Nothing’s happening. We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, friends who wanna fuck,” Rue replied. She was always the blunt one in the family.

“Rue!”

“Am I wrong,” she asked, her eyes on you.

“Uhh-I mean...”

“Un huh. Just tell him how you feel,” Rue said as she started to make her way back into the party.

“You say that like it’s so easy.”

Rue turned around so she was walking backwards now. “It is when the other person likes you back.” Then she turned back around and you lost sight of her in the sea of people.

“But...,” you shouted then began to whisper since you no longer saw her, “how do you know he likes me?”

Now you were nervous. You weren’t really one to flirt, at least not on purpose anyway. It was one thing to act normal around Fez and pretend you didn’t have a huge crush on him, it was another for someone to tell you he liked you and pretend to be normal. What if Rue was wrong? What if whatever sign she was getting from Fezco, was just him being a good friend, and not him being interested in you?

You made your way back into the party, but completely passed by the living room and went straight for the bathroom. Surprisingly, there wasn’t a line so you went right in. You locked the door then went to the mirror to look at yourself. Everything was still in place. Your lipstick was perfect. Your hair styled the way you liked it. Now, if only you could get that look of fear off your face.

“Breath, Y/N,” you said to yourself. You took a long exhale then inhaled. “Rue wouldn’t lie to you... well, maybe about drugs but not about this. And it’s Fez. Just put out some feelers to see where his head is at.” You nodded at yourself then turned the faucet on to splash a little water on yourself. Then your eyes grew wide as you thought, looking at yourself in the mirror again. “But what if he’s just being nice? IT’S FEZ! He’d never intentionally be mean to me. So how will I know if he’s only being polite and not actually flirting with me. Ughh!”

You dried your hand on a nearby towel then turned away from the mirror. You took some deep breaths to try and shake off the nervous feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. “Okay. It’s fine. You’re fine.” You thought about every time you hung out with Fez over the summer. Going to his house for the first time. Him giving you candy for free at the store. Him holding your hand on his couch. Fez was a good friend and you didn’t want to lose that, but you couldn’t keep holding your feelings for the ginger in.

“Hey Y/N,” Fezco said once you stopped in front of him. A small smile growing on his lips. Somehow his eyes managed to shimmer in the crappy living room lighting.

“Uh can you give me a ride home? I don’t feel so hot and I can’t find my friends.”

Technically it wasn’t a lie. You didn’t feel great. Your anxiety about asking Fez how he felt about you made you sick to your stomach.

“Sure thing, ma,” Fez replied, getting up from the couch without a second thought. Add that to the list of reasons you liked Fez. He would drop everything for you. The party wasn’t done so there was still money to be made, yet here he was, walking you out the party to his car.

The ride was quiet and awkward which was unusual. You only felt awkward around Fez when you had to bring up Rue’s drug addiction. Glancing over at Fez, he was oblivious to the worry that was going on in your head. His eyes focused on the dark road ahead as he nodded along to the music. The streetlights highlighting his freckles as you drove through the neighborhood.

“Do you like me,” you asked, interrupting Fez.

Fez’s eyes left the road for a moment confused at your sudden change in the conversation. He readjusted himself in his spot before he spoke. “Yeah, course I like you. Wouldn’t be giving you a ride home if I didn’t.”

You shook your head annoyed. “No, Fez. I mean do you like like me? Like if we were in middle school and you found a note in your locker that said ‘do you like me? Yes or no.’ Which one would you circle?”

“Oh.”

Oh. OH! What did he mean by oh. Your brain was running a mile a minute now. Fez better say something else and quick.

After what felt like forever, but was only about 5 seconds. “Yeah... thought it was obvious I was feelin’ you.”

You let out a breathy laugh in disbelief. “Obvious?”

“Yeah, I mean I thought you was real cute that first day you came in the store grillin’ me about what I was sellin’ Rue.” Fez chuckled to himself remembering that day.

“You thought I was cute,” you asked baffled. This was all so confusing for you.

Fez shook his head, eyes still focused on the road. “You gonna just keep repeating everything I’m sayin?”

“Uhh, yeah,” you replied, your eyes wide trying to prosses what he was saying to you. “It doesn’t make sense and you’re being so nonchalant about this.”

“How am I supposed to be?”

“I don’t know,” you answered, your hands flailing around. “Not like this! Just a minute ago I was freaking out wondering if I would ruin our friendship, or if there was even the slightest chance you liked me back... and you do. My brain can’t comprehend.”

Fezco put his car in park and you realized you were in front of you house. “Well, comprehend, ma.”

You slouched back in your seat staring out at the road ahead of you taking it all in. Rue was right. “What do we do now?”

Fez reached over the center console and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers. “Well, we could start with a date?”

You turned at looked at Fez, biting your lip to stop your smile from getting too big. “I’d like that,” you said, nodding your head.

“Cool,” Fez said smiling.

“Cool,” you repeated grinning right back.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, just staring at one another.

“You know what. I’m feeling way better now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah... don’t think I’m quite ready to go inside yet.”

“You got something in mind?”

“Not really,” you said, pausing to think for a second. “Just not ready to leave you yet,” you replied, squeezing his hand a little while rubbing your thumb back and forth on the back of his hand.

Fezco’s checks got incredibly hotter as he looked away from you avoiding your eyes. He let go of your hand and put his car back in drive beginning to drive off then said, "I think I know a place."

#fezco x reader #fezco one shot #fez x reader #fez fanfic #fezco #euphoria fan fiction #euphoria one shot #euphoria

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