#(do shakespeare proud) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

terrainofheartfelt · 1 year

Text

Lit™ Opera Lit - Abridged

for @clarasamelia

Jo enabled me into doing this though I’ve been tempted to for a WHILE, so here, have an Opera Primer Playlist, by me. A few notes before we begin:

This says Abridged, because the original Lit™ Opera Lit on my spotify is….5 ½ hours long, and I didn’t want to throw ALL that at someone new to the genre. So. (It is public on my spotify if you wanna take a peek)

Also, this is not a music history survey, and is therefore very biased to my tastes as a lover of romantic opera and as a trained mezzo soprano. #lowvoicesupremacy

And there is sooooooooooooooooooo much more I want to share so if anyone has any questions or wants a rec of something else please feel free to ask and I would be happy to answer!

Actually, new ask game time: send me a pop culture media thing and I can relate it back to opera in 6 degrees or less.

*means I’ve sung it before!

Okay, onto the playlist

Overture – La forza del destino, Verdi

You gotta start off an opera with a good overture right???? And this one is a fave, BY a fave. Overtures are sort of a…musical trailer of everything you’re going to hear in the show before it starts. It’s a sneak peek, it’s the opening credits, it’s a goddamn shame we don’t do them anymore. For real I went to a concert earlier this fall and the orchestra played the overture to The Sound of Music and it was glorious and I remember thinking “they don’t make em like this anymore!” Anyways, idk much about Forza because there’s no mezzos, but it’s a gutwrenching tragedy with glorious music, and this overture FUCKS

“Gira la cote!”* — Turandot, Puccini

First things first, lemme just say this outright, yes, this opera is racist. All white European composers were perpetrators of Orientalism in their music, Puccini being one of the more notorious. As such, opera is a thing that you have to engage with critically, but I don’t want to make that sound like it’s “work,” because I don’ twant to prolong this thing that you have to perform some sort of intellectual labor before you can enjoy opera, but you have to give it the same grace and critical eye you give other media, fuck I run a gossip girl blog, it’s like that, you know? Okay, sermon out of the way, this opera is about a Chinese princess, who vows to never marry because, honestly men have given her very little reason to want to, so she poses this challenge: if a man wants to marry her, he must answer three riddles, and if he gets even one of them wrong, she takes his head. This chorus is the opening of the show, when her latest failed suitor is about to get his head chopped off, the chorus of her subjects love the free show, and are shouting “gira la cote! / sharpen the blade!” and, reader, it fucks.

“Měsíčku na nebi hlubokém (Song to the Moon)” — Rusalka, Dvořák

It’s the little mermaid!!!!!!!!! No, seriously, it’s based on the same myth. From my sweet Czech prince, Tony, this masterpiece tells its own spin on a Slavic version of the fairytale. This is, effectively, the “part of your world” song, Rusalka begs the moon to pass on a message of love to her human prince. And it is…one of the most glorious arias ever, to the point that sometimes I’m like “ugh, overdone” but really, it’s gorgeous, and when sung right, transcendent.

“Čury mury fuk” — Rusalka, Dvořák

Ježibaba, aka Baba Yaga, aka Ursula, sings about how she’s gonna poison the beautiful sprite Rusalka. Fun fact: the saying for mezzo roles is: witches, bitches, and britches, because the archetypes low-voiced women always sing in opera are always either witches, bitches, or pants roles (women playing a male character, usually a teenaged boy). I was more a Mistresses and Princesses mezzo meself, so really…just bitches….

“Amami, Alfredo” — La Traviata, Verdi

Verdi is my absolute favorite, my opera blorbo, I love him so very much. The way he writes emotion into his orchestra is just hnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng. Anyways. Traviata is perhaps the most popular opera in the world (tied with Carmen). If you don’t think you know it, you do. It’s based off Dumas’ La Dame aux Camellias, and the direct inspiration for the film Moulin Rouge! (though not the musical, evidently, it’s fine I’ve ranted about that elsewhere). AND, it’s featured in the garden party scene in Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement! What you here Anne Hathaway listening to there is the grand ending to the famous aria “Sempre libera,” but to me, the most sublime moment in the opera is this one, in Act II, Violetta’s lover’s father comes to plead with her to leave his son, Alfredo, because Violetta is a courtesan and therefore a detriment to the noble family’s reputation…yeah. And Violetta agrees, not wanting to send Alfredo’s family into poverty or ruin the reputation of his little sister (that she’s never met btw, fuckin catholics), plus, it’s hinted that Violetta already knows that she is dying of tuberculosis (consumption), so she decides to leave and go back to her old life, and when Alfredo returns as she’s trying to write him a farewell letter, she has this outburst of emotion. It’s brief, but, jesus christ—

Amami, Alfredo, quant'io t'amo. Addio. / Love me, Alfredo, how I love you. Goodbye.

"Bevo al tuo fresco sorriso" — La Rondine, Puccini

Another opera based of the lady of the camellias! (She was indeed a real person, Marie Duplessis, I read a biography about her! It’s so fascinating!) This one has a bit of a different plot and play out, but the theme is the same. There’s actually some dispute about there being multiple endings to this opera (Turandot too I guess, but I digress) Magda, a glamorous courtesan of Paris, bored of her gilded cage, puts on a disguise and goes out for the night, and meets up again with the hot young poet who came to her house party earlier that night, they share a drink, meanwhile Magda’s maid has a drink in the same bar with her tenor lover, what results is this, what me and my friends call The Best Quartet Ever. it sounds exactly like falling in love in Paris. No offense, but tswift could never.

"È amabile invero cotal giovinotto” — Rigoletto, Verdi†

Hi, it’s me with my low voice supremacy agenda again. There’s a much more famous quartet, but. My house. Based off of a play by Victor Hugo, Rigoletto is a jester who has enough of his boss’ bullshit. His boss being the Duke. What puts him over the edge? The scumbag of a Duke seduces Rig’s daughter, Gilda, and now Gilda thinks she’s in love, but Rig has worked for the Duke long enough to know that, best case, she’ll have her heartbroken. But that is all just BACKGROUND for this scene. Rigoletto hires an assassin-slash-bartender to take care of the Duke for him, so this guy, Sparafucile, gets the Duke drunk, but now, unfortunately, the assasin’s sister, Maddalena, has a crush on the fuck. She demands that her brother spare the duke’s life, but Sparafucile promised Rigoletto a body. So while a storm hits, Spara tells his sister “fine, the next person that knocks on the door, i’ll kill instead.” Gilda, of course, overhears all of this, and decides that what she has to do his take the place of the man she loves, and knocks on the door (babygirl, it’s NOT WORTH IT) †I’ve never done one of these roles, but I have been in the opera!

“Pourquoi me réveiller” — Werther, Massenet

An underrated, imho, French tragedy. Is it because the heroine is a mezzo? Who’s to say. Based off Goethe’s Die Leiden des jungen Werther, it follows the tragic star-crossed love of Werther, the poet, and Charlotte, the woman who loves him, but for ehr family’s financial security and stature marries another man she doesn’t love. This moment in the opera comes after Charlotte’s two barn-burner arias, when she looks over her letters from Werther and realizes the depth of her feelings, Werther comes to see her in this moment of vulnerability, and recites this piece of poetry. It’s sexy and angsty and the build-up to the explosion of emotion that’s about to take place. And because I’m me, I’ll just say: it’s dair-coded.

“Pietà! perdon!...O don fatale” — Don Carlos, Verdi†

Verdi wrote this opera for the bisexuals!!!! So, there’s a big ol’ convoluted love pentagon going on in the court of Phillip II of Spain, but what you need to know in this scene is: Eboli, a courtier and friend of the queen Elisabeth de Valois (daughter of Catherine de Medici, fun fact), frames Elisabeth for cheating on her husband with her stepson (complicated, I know). And Eboli is acting out of homoerotic jealousy because she wanted Carlo (the stepson) herself, and what is a rival if not a crush you’re mad about having? After her subterfuge blows up in her face, Eboli throws herself at Elisabeth’s feet begging for mercy (“pietà”), and confesses to setting Elisabeth up, and even, sleeping with the king. Elisabeth is heartbroken and furious at the betrayal, and banishes Eboli to a convent. Once alone, Eboli curses the beauty she was born with that brought her here, and laments that she’ll never see Elisabeth again (GAY). And then, she realizes there’s still a chance to save Carlo, who’s been jailed for treason. This opera is in my top 5 favorites, and this excerpt has one of my top 5 favorite musical moments, the low strings after Eboli confesses, the pain and betrayal you can FEEL in the strings and it’s so !!!!! I am not capable of being normal about it. I’m listening while writing this and CHILLS (Also, I saw this live very recently and it was extraordinary! And they did something interesting with the supertitles and the acting that implied that – rather than a presumed consensual encounter – Phillip assaulted Eboli, which paints her aria cursing her looks in an entirely new light!!!!!) †I’ve not done this publicly, but it was in my repertoire

“E qual via scegliete?” — Tosca, Puccini†

I tried to keep this brief and not put on too many things, but I can’t not put Tosca on here! This is my second favorite part of the opera (my first favorite is the finale, but that’s like, only 30 seconds, so), and it fucks. Floria Tosca, a famous singer in Rome, is put in an impossible position by absolute dirtbag Scarpia, who takes her lover Mario Cavaradossi political prisoner. Cavaradossi, a republican and therefore enemy of the Italian state, is sentenced to death, but Scarpia promises he’ll set C free if Tosca spends a night with him. She’s heartbroken by this choice, but she agrees. She insists that Scarpia sign the paperwork granting the both of them safe passage out of Rome, and he also promises that the firing squad will fake C’s death to give them a cover to escape. The tension in this scene is delicious, and it builds and builds, and the STRINGS. While Scarpia is writing, Tosca takes a knife from his dinner table. When it’s done and her and her lover’s escape is promised (Scarpia will actually betray her one more time, but she doesn’t know that yet), Scarpia moves to put his arms around her (gross, I know), and says “Tosca, finalmente e mio! / Tosca is finally mine!” and she STABS him. Rather than being raped by this absolute toilet plunger of a man, she KILLS him. She stabs him, and he cries out and goes down, and she taunts him, telling him to “feel the kiss of Tosca” and she stands over him saying “Muori, muori,” in this raw, low voice like die, bitch! It is sooooo thrilling to watch. This is a scene I will never get tired of. In a genre where women characters are too frequently brutalized for nothing, seeing a woman kill her would-be rapist is just — so satisfying. †I’ve only been in the chorus of this opera

“Ohimè!... morir mi sento!”(Scena del giudizio) — Aida, Verdi

Regrettably, my favorite mezzo recording of this (Dolora Zajick) involves both James Levine and Placido Domingo, both of whom are pieces of shit! I’ve selected Cossotto’s instead, but if you come away from this playlist knowing one thing, it’s that James Levine and Placido Domingo are pieces of shit whose supposed skill is not worth all the pain and misery they caused. And now back to the music! Also, this opera has a racist history that companies are still working to move away from. They could work a little bit faster, tbh. A favorite opera and a dream role for me, tbh. Amneris, daughter of the king, gets carried away with jealousy when she discovers the man of her affection, Radames, is in love with her servant Aida, a prisoner of war who turns out to be a princess of an enemy nation. Amneris’ fury gets Radames and Aida caught. Taken by regret and pain and, let’s face it, more homoerotic angst, Amneris eavesdrops on Radames’ trial before the elders, and her dread builds as Radames refuses to speak in his defense. He’s sentenced to death—buried alive—and Amneris and the orchestra react viscerally to the sentence. Like her pleas for mercy when the scene hits its climax, those pietas…

“O furibonda iena…Quest’ultimo bacio”* — La Gioconda, Ponchielli

UNDERRATED OPERA OF ALL TIME. No but really. This is just…everything. This is a grand opera masterwork by this guy, Amilcare, who was Puccini’s teacher, and so few people know about it which is a SHAME. But, understandable, it’s notoriously hard to produce, and expensive, since the finale of Act II involves sinking a pirate ship…but the MUSIC. It’s another convoluted and vaguely homoerotic love triangle. Laura and Enzo were in love, then pulled apart. Enzo sought comfort in a singer, known only as La Gioconda, and she is madly in love with him, but when Laura comes back into his life, that’s it for him. There’s ship burnings and evil husbands and a ballet (which you may know as the K-9 Advantix commercial song), but it all comes to this finale. Though she vowed Laura was her rival, Gioconda learns that Laura saved her mother once, and was under her mother’s blessing, noted by the rosary Gioconda’s mother gave her, that Laura always carries with her. So, bound by honor to her mother and desire to see her ex Enzo happy, Gioconda schemes to help Laura fake her death to escape her abusive husband, and gets Enzo to come to them just as Laura’s waking up from her sleeping draught (think R&J, but happier ending). Enzo comes in spitting mad, thinking Gioconda is responsible for his Laura’s death, and Gio—who’s going through some shit of her own—is ready to let him kill her, and then Laura wakes, and calls Enzo’s name, and the relief in the orchestra is PALPABLE, while Gioconda sings quietly to herself “oh darkness, hide me.” After they’ve reunited, Gioconda tells them the rest of her plan, she’s got a boat to get them out of the city, and from there they can start a new life. Through her own pain and grief, in an act of unbridled selflessness and compassion, she tells them: “Amatevi. Siate felici. / Love each other. Be happy.” and they thank her and promise to remember her. And, I mean, how often does the mezzo get to win like that?

LITTLE WOMEN* (2005) MY BELOVED. It’s not on spotify, but I couldn’t not put this opera on this playlist for you, Jo <333 so, please see below for youtube links. the story is already important to me, and being in the opera when I was in college only made it even more so, and it’s a forever favorite and forever special in my heart. This is the only contemporary opera on this list, and it’s a wide and varied field, but in many ways, it’s a host unto itself (but if anyone wants to hear more contemporary stuff, I’d be happy to share!) Now, LW has a mixed reputation amongst operaphiles, who’s to say why? Misogyny, misogyny is why. But more than that, LW is such a domestic drama in a way that is not really conventional in opera, with its fantasy plots and royal characters and otherworldliness about it, but LW has always been about the small intricacies of family, which is why when Greta Gerwig put in that line about domestic struggles and joys in her film I felt so fucking SEEN. It is a technically challenging work, rife with lots of 21st century music toughness that makes the music hard to learn, but it’s absolutely not inaccessible to listen to. But, you know, call a spade what it is, a goddamn shovel, and LW is an opera with a majority women cast. You can count the men in the show on one hand, and that combined with its lack of a typical “operatic” story, and it’s challenging 21st century sound, makes lots of people keen to dismiss it. But those people, are WRONG. It’s a beautiful opera, meaningful and powerful and it sounds pretty, and I will die on that hill.

“Perfect as we are” — Little Women, Adamo

youtube

Jo has a total of…three? arias in the show, and this is the second. After a meeting of the pickwick club and a chat with Laurie, Jo is in her attic trying to write her next “potboiler,” but keeps getting distracted by what she and Laurie were talking about, mainly, the possibility of Meg being in love with Laurie’s tutor, Brooke. It’s another hint at the main conflict of the opera (which is plainly stated in the next selection). Jo is happy with her family and her best friend, and she doesn’t see why any of it has to change. But it won’t be up to her. I love this one because it goes back and forth between Jo trying to write and find the right words for her story, and monologuing at an invisible Laurie, and her monologue helps her find that word and then she’s back in it. It’s so whimsical and just very her. I love it so much. Low voice supremacy

“Things change, Jo”

youtube

THIS ARIA!!!!!! Jo is so upset when Meg decides to marry John Brooke, and she plaintively sings “Why don’t you love me anymore?” and her big sister says, “Of course I love you!....but once I saw him, once he looked at me….I can’t explain it, Jo. I love you. Things end – no,” and that’s the lead in to the aria. She’s trying to explain her heart to her sister, and the poetry of it is glorious and the MUSIC. It’s a plea, really, a begging for Jo to understand her side: childhood was always going to end, and what a happy ending. The “Things change, Jo,” leitmotif is repeated over and over again. It’s the central conflict: Jo versus Change. Laurie repeats the motif when he proposes to Jo, Beth repeats it as she’s dying (her death aria is EXQUISITE I just can’t include it here because it makes me too emotional), and interestingly, when Laurie and Amy are abroad together, he sings the dissonant three-note motif, and then Amy resolves it. “Things change, Amy.” / “And a good thing too.” GENIUS. Adamo is a genius.

My best friend from college sings this aria and also preaches the gospel of Adamo’s LW to me, and she texted me out of the blue the other day: If someone doesn’t like Things Change Jo…they’re misogynist. I don’t make the rules. And she’s right. It may sound like I’m coming down hard but I have heard so many people (mostly cismen) talk down at this opera and at people for liking it, and I’m over it. It’s good!!!!!! This isn’t me trying to say “you better like this or ELSE” but “I have so much love for this and it means so much to me personally and so I dearly hope you’ll give yourself a chance to like it too.”

“Let me look at you”* (Quartet)

youtube

THEE finale! Jo is alone in her attic again, and she finally surrenders, to her grief, to the current of change running through her life. Surrounded by the ghosts of her sisters, she makes peace with each of them, and they sing about how life has pulled them to separate goals, but they will always still have the love between them. I want to cry even as I’m writing this, it’s so beautiful and so meaningful. Jo ends the quartet with the exact same line as the end of her aria above “how grateful I am,” but it means something different now!!!! And she echoes the melody of “perfect as we are” a minute later, when Bhaer knocks on the door and asks if now is a good time, she sings “Now is all there is.” best finale ever. Except tosca, maybe.

I sang the role of Marmee when I was in the opera, but on my senior recital, this was my closer, and I sang it with 3 of my closest friends who were also graduating that year. Our groupchat is still called the March Sisters. And. AND. my friend who sang Meg is getting married next summer, and we are all bridesmaids. She really did find her knight 😭😭😭😭😭

#playlist #music #opera #if you listen please let me know what you think! <333 #on today's episode of liz was a music major and is gonna make it everyone's problem #one of my favorite things about recitals was writing program notes and this scratched that itch so thank you for the excuse and platform #to do this #i have an idea for an opera/shakespeare playlist too if anyone is interested...#proud of myself for my restraint tbh #not too long. still long tho.

15 notes · View notes

asteralien · 7 months

Text

lucy's va is like. criminally undervalued imho. i'll never not feel secondhand devastation at the way she delivers "maybe you're right, connie." "i am?" "yeah. it probably is none of your business. bye" LIKE. not cruelly not cattily not over the top or anything just. complete deadpan. thoughtful, even. utterly obliterating

#aio #lucy cunningham-schultz #how do you even come back from that. how do you come back from a fourteen-year-old so comprehensively dismantling you #and the way you can tell she stopped listening to connie directly after the words 'it's probably none of my business'#girly is thinking about Other Things #she is thinking about lunch she is thinking about her next school journal article she is thinking about nail polish #she's so Character. what a kid. fucking superb you funky little newspaperwoman #(i love the way shakespeare calls her a newspaperwoman in edwin's first ep.......she is!! she's a newspaperwoman and i am So Proud of her)#mythtakes #i don't usually like the kid characters even when i was a kid but lucy is like....... thee It Girl for me #idk why tho lmao [shoves the 'tired of being little miss perfect' monologue into a trashcan and sits on the lid]

4 notes · View notes

creatediana · 1 year

Photo

A half-assed whiteboard imitation of Edwin Landseer’s Scene from A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1851), done in a few minutes in Expo marker on 11/17/2022

Yes, it is currently sitting on the same whiteboard as where I drew Regina on Monday. As of yet, no one has erased either of them.

#i know the tutor who works in that room on fridays and he said he'd keep an eye on them #process was the same as regina. i looked at a computer and copied in my notebook. then copied my notebook drawing lazily to the board.#i kinda like the lines and unclear style of white board drawings. they allow my flaws to look more stylized #also copying a secondhand source definitely has a different effect than if i were trying to copy the original which id never drawn before #theyd come out a lot less messy-by-nature and more messy-with-effort... not the look i prefer. i like getting a pencil practice first #maybe one day ill show the pencil drawings in my sketchbooks along w these. if i ever post enough.#this is definitely something id love to keep doing #2022 #college years #drawing #my drawing #art #visual art #my art #edward landseer #shakespeare #a midsummer night's dream #i was pleasantly surprised nobody erased regina. when i looked in this afternoon (3 days later) the board was completely empty but her.#kaily said if i was drawing smth else on the board i should erase one of them. but she liked bottom and titania better.#and i said i couldnt do that to lizzie... not after being so proud that she'd made it this far you know? 3 whole days in a math center?#that's nothing to be ashamed of.#the fact that it was left up despite that board being used daily is kinda like. aw :'''") it meant smth. they thought it worth keeping.#even if only for another day. and that's kinda touching.#these may both be erased someday by who knows who and who knows when. i probably won't be there. i couldnt stand to view it.#perhaps it's that kind of uncertainty of the art that imitates life. hmm yes quite.

2 notes · View notes

tayytayy12 · 2 days

Text

I hate it here (a lot less when I’m with you) | OP81 x Reader

Summary - Reader just got out of a mildly toxic relationship and released a song about what her coping mechanism was during that time, but when her new relationship gets leaked by the paparazzi, she decides to show off her new favourite person.

Warnings | Mentions of a past toxic relationship/ breakup, swearing

FaceClaim | Gracie Abrams

Requested | Yes - No

Type | SMAU

Yourusername

Liked by | AaronDessner, PheobeBridgers and 2,987,425 others

Tagged | @/AaronDessner

Yourusername | Long Pond Studios has always been a place where I’ve let my emotions and feelings guide my songwriting completely, every song that I’ve written and recorded in this place has been a complete raw reflection of my feelings, and I’m forever grateful that I can trust you enough to share them all with you without the slightest moment of hesitation. That’s why, I’m surprise releasing my brand new song, ‘I hate it here’ now. This song is about a method I’ve used to cope for the past few years of my life when I wasn’t in the best situation, and I hope that it will help any of you who are or were in the same situation I was. This song was made with my soulmate of a collaborator, chosen friend, found family of mine, Aaron and were so incredibly proud of it and we can’t wait for you to hear it. Sorry for being away for so long, I love you 🤍

View all comment

User1 - OMFG SHES ALIVE !!!

User2 - ONLY TOOK FIVE MONTHS TO CONFIRM YOU’RE ALIVE AND BREATHING

AaronDessner - My favourite one together so far 🤍

Yourusername - Love you forever 🤍

User3 - WTFDYM ‘I HATE IT HERE’ EXPLAIN?

User4 - GO LISTEN TO IT ITS SOOOOOOOOOO GOOD

User5 - A SURPRISE DROP? WE’RE SPOILED

User6 - When Aarons a co-writer AND the producer, you know for a fact the song will change your life (and make the therapy bill triple)

Liked by author

User7 - Girl don’t apologise

User8 - FR like she gets cheated on, takes a brake and then apologises to us 😭 like girl it’s okay

JackAntanoff - *Alexa play Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo*

Yourusername- Your times coming synth man 🤫 LOVE YOU STILL

User9 - WDYM HIS TIME IS COMING YOU CRYPTIC WOMAN

User10 - “I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind.” That’s all I have to say.

User11 - Y/n could write Romeo and Juliet but Shakespeare couldn’t write I hate it here

User11 - “I place you need a key to get to, the only one is mine” girly I hope someone makes you want to make a copy one day

Yourusername - God I love you lmao

User11 - OMFG Y/n loves me I can die happy

User12 - “tell me something awful, like you are a poet.” BC HE ALWAYS PAINTED HER BLUE SKYS THE DARKEST GREY, RUINING HER DAY BY TELLING HER AWFUL SHIT LIKE HES A TORTURED POET !!!!!! (I knew Coney Island wasn’t fictional you fucking delusional people, no one in a happy relationship writes that shit 💕💕💕)

User13 - “This man made me feel worthless.” Y/EX/N ISTG WHEN I FIND YOU. COUNT UR MINUTES

User14 - “I'm lonely but I'm good, I'm bitter but I swear I'm fine” bitch where did you find my diary

Liked by author

Yourusername

Liked by, SabrinaCarpenter, OscarPiastri and 2,191,910 others

Tagged | @/SabrinaCarpenter

Yourusername - I’m sorry who’s this woman debuting at no.1 on the billboard hot one hundred? My god it is me, I can’t believe this, I love you I love you I love you thank you so so much from the bottom of my heart, I mean it, I really do. MY GOD I LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU. (And my baby with her first top ten entry, I love you Sabby, Go stream espresso, it is that sweet 🤍💕) OKAY ONE LAST THANK YOU. 💕🤍💕🤍💕

Okay I lied but being among names like Beyoncé, Ariana Grande, SZA and Kendrick Lamar is one of the biggest honours ever, I’m huge fans of them all and to be in the same space as them is an honour no words can express, I love you all, the most caring sweet fans on the whole planet 💕💕💕💕

(And yes, it was a reference to a physical key, this is it)

View all comments

User14 - We made the right one famous guys

User15 - I’m actually crying, when did she stop being our little secret

SabrinaCarpenter - My biggest fan 🩷

Yourusername - Your biggest fan 🩷

User16 - Oscar in the likes for what?

User17 - Who?

User18 - Oscar Piastri, he’s a 23 yr old f1 driver

User19 - What is vroom vroom boy doing here

AaronDessner - Truly blessed to work with you

Yourusername - I’m the blessed one don’t even

User20 - Only y/n could send a five minute long, slow, alt pop song with a main piano background, basically a depressing lullaby bop, to number one above all these TikTok songs

User21 - She’s actually adorable

OscarPiastri - Been on repeat!

Liked by author

User22 - UM HELLO WHAT ARE U DOING HERE LITTLE ORANGE MAN?

User23 - This is all bc of me btw

Celebrity.updates

Liked by, user24, and 82,828 others

Tagged | @/Yourusername @/OscarPiastri

Celebrity.updates - NEW COUPLE!!! Fast upcoming pop star, Y/n Y/l/n (21) seen out late at night on the streets of London with Formula one driver, Oscar Piastri (23), according to the source of these pictures the two were laughing and running around the streets together, when Oscar caught up to her and hugged her to him and kissed her. Rumours say that Y/n met Piastri through her ex partner who’s an engineer for f1 team Alpine, the pair seem to be quite smitten and loving with each other. What’s your thoughts on this?

View all comments

User25 - WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN

User26 - Posting these photos is bad enough, but tagging them in it is crazy

User28 - Neither of them have even been hinting at a relationship at all, they clearly didn’t want anyone to know yet

User29 - Can’t these sickos just let them live, they’re people too

User30 - Whoever took these is messed up

User31 - They do look rlly happy together though

User32 - The fact that her ex is an alpine engineer makes this situation so much more funny and interesting

SabrinaCarpenter - You’re actually disgusting

User33 - TELL THEM SAB

User34 - The fact that she’s not even wrong

User35 - the fact that she defends Y/n with no hesitation

User36 - The friendship we all need in our lives

Yourusername

Liked by, OscarPiastri, SabrinaCarpenter and 2,928,198 others

Tagged | @/OscarPiastri

Yourusername - I hate it here a lot less when I’m with you 🤍 my favourite polite cat xxxx

View all comments

LandoNorris- Finally. The pair of you at the paddock hiding in MY divers room bc you were scared someone would see you in Oscar’s. Sigh.

Yourusername - You love me

User37 - OH MY GOD

User38 - I need to know the bears name

OscarPiastri- She named him Gerald

Yourusername - Don’t sound so disgusted, that’s our son

OscarPiastri - Sorry baby

User39 - Hysterical

OscarPiastri - My favourite smiling dog 🤍

Yourusername- Excuse me did you just call me a bitch

OscarPiastri- NO I DIDNT MEAN IT LIKE THAT

User40 - The dynamic is already everything to me

User41 - Even his GF knows he’s a polite cat

Yourusername - He so is (he’s in denial)

User42 -“ I hate it here a lot less with you” Shut the fuck up

OscarPiastri

Liked by, Yourusername, LoganSargeant and 1,872,001 others

Tagged | @/Yourusername

OscarPiastri - She made me a copy 🗝️🤍

View all comments

User43 - Someone sedate me

User44 - SHE. MADE. HIM. A. COPY.

User45 - WTFFFTTFTFTD

User46 - Literally the ultimate Oscar on Alpine revenge

Liked by author

Yourusername - I don’t need my secret gardens, or my lunar valleys anymore, because I have you 🤍

OscarPiastri- My favourite and only girl 🤍

User47 - I’m taking a nap on the highway

///////

490 notes · View notes

itmeblog · 3 months

Text

It's Black History Month

(Over here in the US of A) So here are some podcasts to check out.

Absolutely no Adventures - a fantasy (un)adventure story that follows Sig, the owner of Signature Eats bakery, as he aggressively avoids becoming embroiled in any daring quests or chosen one shenanigans even though the universe really seems to want him to do just that. This is a story about cutting Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey off at the knees to chill with friends and staying far, far away from the slightest whiff of adventure. And also baking. This is also a story about baking.

Afflicted - Lovecraft Country meets True Blood in this new series from award-winning producers Tonia Ransom and Jen Zink. In season one, a small East Texas town suffers supernatural disasters caused by a demonic book bound in human flesh…and only hoodoo can save the town from its affliction.

Apollyon - In the early 22nd century, the Apollyon virus wiped out 75% of the world’s population, and now most of the world is governed by the International Conglomerate of Research Scientists. Dr. Theo Ramsey is an ICRS research scientist who may have just discovered an effective vaccine for Apollyon, but the stakes to get the vaccine to the public are higher than she ever imagined.

Between Heartbeats - Tan immersive Urban Fantasy about the hurt, the powerful, and their growth within a broken world. We follow Sundiata, a guilt-ridden time manipulator with a knack for unemployment, and Nadia, a moralistic telepath determined not to lose control, as they balance frayed mental health against an unsympathetic police state. But when a malevolent presence rears is head, their neuroses become the least of their problems. Can our heroes make the most of their abilities before the option is taken from them?

Fan Wars: The Empire Claps Back - Two passionate Star Wars fans on opposite sides of the Last Jedi debate argue via Skype after their favorite forum closes down. If you love Star Wars (or call yourself a proud member of any fandom), you’ll love this romantic comedy told via

Harlem Queen - a Black historical fiction audio drama based on the life and times of Black, woman, "gangster" Madame Stephanie St. Clair during the Harlem Renaissance.

His Royal Fakin' Highness - What if Ophelia helped Hamlet get his throne back? This modern day, romantic comedy re-imagining of Shakespeare's Hamlet asks just that. As they stage an engagement in the wake of the king's death, these childhood frenemies must decide between duty and love.

InCo (This one's mine :D) - A Sci-Fi story about a disgruntled information seller, a mysterious space boy, and an android doing her best.

Janus Descending - a limited series, science fiction/horror audio drama podcast, follows the arrival of two xenoarcheologists on a small world orbiting a binary star. But what starts off as an expedition to survey the planet and the remains of a lost alien civilization, turns into a monstrous game of cat and mouse, as the two scientists are left to face the creatures that killed the planet in the first place.

Lady Lucy - Lady Lucy is an audio drama inspired by Shakespeare's "Dark Lady" Sonnets, 127-154. Between running her brothel, fighting the Church, murdering her friends' abusive husbands, and pretending to be a poet, the last thing Lucy needed back in 1586 was a surprise visit from her former flame... Will Shakespeare.

Liars and Leeches - Tonya Wright felt it all after the tragic murders of her sister and brother-in-law in a random act of gun violence. Struggling to travel outside of her home, she now lives constantly on edge about perceived threats that seem to surround her.

Nightlight - Multi-award winning horror podcast featuring creepy stories with full audio production written by Black writers and performed by Black actors. So scary it’ll make you want to leave your night light on.

Null /Void - a science fiction audio drama about a young woman, Piper Lee, whose life is saved by a mysterious voice named Adelaide. Piper soon uncovers a malicious plot by a monopoly of a tech company and must work with her friends and an unusual ally to help foil their deadly plot.

Out of Ashes - (currently remastering season 1) Follow a group of survivors as they navigate the ruins of modern civilization and battle against demons, ghosts, monsters and the looming threat of extinction from an ancient power.

Small Victories - A recently recovered drug addict tries to start her new lease on life, too bad life has it out for her. This dramatic comedy follows Marisol through the ups and downs of her life.

The Courtship of Mona Mae - In the 1870s, pioneers Mona Mae Christophe and Zekial Montgomery search the American West for Mona Mae's mother, Clara. Mona must recall a past, long forgotten in order to survive, so that she can find her mother, love and create a way of life for herself.

Vega a Sci-Fi Adventure Podcast - In a fantasy futuristic world, Vega Rex is employed by her government to kill off the world's worst criminals. She's never met a criminal she couldn't catch…until now. Join Vega as she journeys through a world of bumbling apprentices, powerful technogods, and her biggest challenge yet. Hosted by Ivuoma Hall.

Witchever Path - is an anthology series where your decisions effect the story. Our stories are based in America’s NorthEast, featuring characters finding themselves in the thick of the unknown while tackling issues like queer identity, gender, race, and spirituality. Stories often focus on the communities not typically seen in stories taking place in New England, and giving voice to the perspectives of those communities while uniting under some universal themes. And the supernatural happens. A lot.

(All descriptions were taken from websites)

If you want to find more and there are way more there's a directory :D

559 notes · View notes

fxllfaiiry · 1 year

Text

˚₊ ʚ 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝(𝐬) ɞ˚₊

pairings: f1 grid x fem!reader

summary: your daily dose of the grid and y/n being chaotic and gay. driver!reader

warnings: none <3

notes: can you tell I have a thing for lily?? I love this woman with my whole heart. also can someone please give me ideas on what to name this series??

liked by danielricciardo, estebanocan, maxverstappen1 and 5,280,367 others

yourusername 🪐🚀🌙

view all comments

userstars mother is mothering

moonfairyy_ y/n is so ethereal

user1 I feel like I made her up sometimes 😭

danielricciardo my bestie is gorgeous ✨

yourusername I taught you well <3

landonorris run me over with your car

yourusername girl, calm down 🤨

danielricciardo do it, y/n!! I'll help you

landonorris not you, anyone but you -

danielricciardo its me hi i'm the problem it's me

yourusername I'm so proud right now 🥹🫶

lewishamilton ❤❤

liked by yourusername and others

cardiganfolklore_ slayed so hard

usermoon y/n's model era??

charles_leclerc you're famous now 😞

yourusername so are you??

charles_leclerc yeah, but you're like a model

yourusername says you 🙄

saturnx_ I'm sat 🛐

luisinhaoliveira99 beautiful 🤍

yourusername you more 🩷

user90 mother and mother 🛐

lilymhe my wife 💋

yourusername I thought I was your child -

lilymhe 🤷‍♀️

alex_albon this is disturbing behavior -

liked by alex_albon, charles_leclerc and 1,674,093 others

y/n.jpg @/lilymhe if things don't work with alex, you know where to find me 😏

view all comments

user66 🍍🍎🍓🍇

user5 y/n's out here stealing everyone's gfs 😭

space_song1 as she should 🤷‍♀️

pepsicola_lana she has unimaginable rizz

alex_albon I beg you to stop 🙏🙏

y/n.jpg I've stopped for now... 😒

lavenderhazeee the emoji, I-

lilymhe omw 🏃‍♀️

alex_albon lily, don't do this -

angel111 my gay ass is panicking so bad rn

liked by mickschumacher, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 1,709,253 others

y/n.jpg my friends are cool sometimes 🤷‍♀️

view all comments

oscarpiastri sometimes?? we're cool all the time

y/n.jpg whatever helps you sleep at night

georgerussell63 thank you for burning my hand 😒

y/n.jpg I SAID I'M SORRY-

georgerussell63 SORRY WON'T FIX IT-

teaupdates_1 y/n brings the chaos everywhere she goes 😭

carlossainz55 stop playing smooth operator everytime I walk into a room 🙄

y/n.jpg i 👏 will 👏 never 👏 stop 👏

user41 this. this is my dose of serotonin.

landonorris y/n's ringtone for seb is, you're my dad! boogie woogie woogie

y/n.jpg shut up and get out of my comments rn ‼️

charles_leclerc I can confirm that

y/n.jpg charles, I thought we were friends-

charles_leclerc that was before you jabbed a paint brush in my eye

y/n.jpg I didn't jab it, jeez. I softly grazed it near your eye on accident 🙄

landonorris oh look, it's shakespeare.

user87 pls this is so funny 😭

musicred_ y/n's on a mission to kill everyone

radiodelrey y/n, sweetie, I love you, but please don't kill anyone 💀

#🩹 — my works ⌇ ་ ˖ ˚₊·#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #f1 fanfic #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc #mick schumacher x reader #lando norris #daniel ricciardo #charles leclerc instagram au #george russell

2K notes · View notes

katz-chow · 9 months

Text

because you're mine, i walk the line

synopsis: the boys are jealous, possessive even, and damnit, shakespeare was right, jealousy is a green-eyed monster aka how their jealousy manifests as and how they respond

warnings: hurt/comfort, partner aggression (mild), jealous boys, suggestive themes, insecurities, squabbling, slight angst, kinda cheating with gaz? but not really bc he's there and reader never talks to the otehr guy again

a/n: did this as my first ever writing collab and with the very talented @d0youc0py !! go check out their version of a jealous task force as well! this took a lot longer than i thought because of some personal life things. who knew planning a surprise baby shower was so hard?

“Nothing. I just thought you would’ve called, that’s all.” -John Price

It wasn’t normal for you to be out with your friends and come home with a bountiful of stories to tell John. I mean, it’s only normal because you both promised each other that there would be as much transparency as there can be between the two of you. Of course, government secrets and all can be difficult, but those were out of his hands.

Your arm gripped onto John’s as you struggled to kick off your shoes, and yet you were still blabbing on and on about the adventures you had with your friends. John smiled, only half listening as he focused on your well-being; the way your chest was a bit heavy as you start to run out of breath, the way you stumble slightly, still holding onto him, and definitely the state of your appearance as it wasn’t as pristine as it was when he had sent you off. Really though, the only important thing was your smile, that must mean it was a good time right?

“Oh, and this guy almost mugged us.” You said casually as you take off the shirt you were wearing to wear one of John’s hoodies instead. He choked on his water (he wanted to stay sober so that he can spring into action immediately).

“Love, what?” He said concerningly as he made his way over to you from your shared bed. Arms wrapped around your waist and chest pressed against your back, he lowers his voice. “Tell me what happened.”

Chills immediately ran up your spine and goosebumps laid on your skin as you tried to do your skincare routine. His eyes meet yours in the bathroom mirror, staring sharp and certain. You finally look at him, a sheepish smile on your face as you rubbed the lotion in. “It was fine anyway, this guy stepped in and like punched him before he could even turn away with the wallet. I think he was the only one who got hurt anyway.”

John’s gaze drooped a bit as he rested his chin on your shoulder, the grip he had on your waist wrapped around you and tightens just like a snake. You tense up. “What’s up with you, Baby? Missed me that much?” You tried to joke, but the slight uncertain quiver in your voice gave you away.

“Yes, but why didn’t you call me?” He mutters into your neck, his warm breath tingles. He lets his eyes close as he lets the remnants of your perfume become droplets in his lungs. “You know I’m there for you right?”

You hum in agreement and closed the remaining bottle. Twisting your torso over to his, you let your own arms run under his shirt and around his waist. You nuzzle your head against his chest. “I know, Baby…I know.”

Letting your hips sway a bit, you tried to lighten up the mood, letting him rub soothing circles into your back and head. Even with this adorable act you performed, he still remained tense and serious. You detach from his body and lift your chin up to better look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just thought you would’ve called, that’s all.” He whispers, barely above a sigh.

You twist your face into an amused and confused look and laughed a bit, “Are you…jealous?”

“No.”

He was a proud man, that much you knew. “Yeah, you’re not. Let’s go to bed.”

Finally, as if all tension had suddenly dissipated, John lifts and throws you over his shoulder lightly, carries you over to your shared bed, and settles you down as you found yourself in a pitful of giggles. He lays down next to you, his beard smells of him and the minty aftershave you got him for his birthday. You press a kiss to his cheek and flicks a strand of hair away from your face.

“Next time you call me, alright?”

“I promise.”

"We need to talk about that little stunt you pulled earlier"- Simon Riley

It wasn’t every day that Simon Riley, a literal dead man, went out for a rather fancy gathering. But who was he to deny the fancies of his dear spouse who had been invited to a rather extravagant wedding of their beloved friends? So, here Simon was, dressed to the nines, engaging…or well, listening to small talk between some groomsmen who decided he needed to be pulled into “The Boys” rather than trail behind you. In all honestly, Simon thinks it’s just because they’re all military washouts who believe that having Simon, an active member, will boost their appearances.

A sudden question snapped him out of his thought as he turned to the rather obnoxious man on his…nth drink. “You a real SAS lieutenant?”

“Sure.” Simon sighed agreeing and dismissively, not wanting to further egg him on to any conversation.

“So what’s up with the mask? You sick or sum’?” Another man asks, this one slightly smaller than the previous. He, too, was drunk as a skunk.

Simon grumbles and blinks away his anger just for a bit. “Just a cold.”

It was a dumb excuse but it seemed to satisfy the men in front of him as they returned to their conversation about cricket. His shoulders relax a bit as his grip on the champagne flute loosens. That was until his pretty eyes lingered around the scene until it got to yours. You, in your magnificent attire, shine in the garden venue's dim light. And then that pretty ring, which cost him a full year’s pay, winking at him playfully as your hand…grips a man’s bicep?

Simon’s head turned a bit, confused, and rather stern paint washed over him. Who is that? Why are you there with him? Why were you holding onto his bicep, practically feeling him up? As if on auto-pilot he walks over to you, mind nothing but focused on you. Simon was calm, when was he not when you were right there, staring at him with a wide smile on your face?

“Oh, hi baby!” She grin widely as the hand that was on the man next to Simon retracted from his side and snaked its way around his own arm. The champagne flute, as he now noticed, was left abandoned somewhere in his haze of 20 feet over to you. “Everyone, this is my husband, Simon. He has a bit of a sniffle…” You smile kindly as a hand gestures to the absolute unit of a man next to you.

Simon waves with his free arm and scrunches his eyes to mimic a polite smile. He turned over to your form and was met with the eyes of his partner. “Love, I need to talk to you.”

This surprised you, you didn’t expect him to have to talk to you about something so urgent that he had, rather aggressively, pulled you away from the main reception and into the nearly empty garden house lobby instead. You were starting to get rather upset at his shenanigans and ripped your arm away from his grip.

“What are you doing, Simon? The wedding is out there, we’re supposed to be-” He cuts you off as he cages you in between his hands and the wall that he had backed you up against. Through the small windows that lined the very top of the garden house, you could see the night sky and the yellow lights of the party just through these limewashed walls.

Simon, his voice deep and low, a warning to you as he leaned to your ear, “We need to talk about that little stunt you pulled earlier…”

Your body shook underneath as your heart skipped. Simon’s breath tickled against your skin. “What are you talking about?” You whisper, hesitantly and quite nervous as your eyes flickered from his and the wall past him. "What’s gotten into you?”

Simon huffs, the medical mask he adorned on his face was gone, what was left was a devilish grin plastered over his scarred lips. “You really don’t know? You think I didn’t see you feel up that man, hmm?” Lips to the base of your jaw caused you to gasp as he continued to trail his skin on yours.

It suddenly comes to your mind as to why Simon was acting so weird, so needy for you. “Are you talking about Conrad? The one with the prosthetic arm…?” Your voice shook as you looked up at him through your lashes, his face was unreadable but he was quiet. And with that, you knew the look on his face. “Are you... are you jealous?”

“No,” He quickly whispered, a hand reached up to tilt your chin up to his eye level. He felt stupid, letting jealousy seep in like tea and not noticing the rather obvious prosthetic that you were clearly just checking out.

“Let’s go home, say you have a fever.” You nod at him, your voice quiet.

"The Hell was that?" -Kyle Garrick

You knew better than to make Kyle upset or angry at you purposely, but you just couldn’t help it–especially when you two have been fighting for days. Fortunately, you two decided it would be better if you kept the fighting private, he’s pretty personal with his affairs with you anyway. So when the team asked you two on a night out to the local bar for the typical Friday night stress reliever, you two had to come to shut down rising suspicions.

To say the pub was loud was an understatement as the sound continued to drown out any thoughts in your head. Your grip on Kyle’s hand was loose and your small smile was the only thing that prevented the awful scowl that would plaster your face.

Even when Kyle sat next to you the whole time, he had his body turned away from you, rather to listen to Soap ramble on about some show he was watching than pay you any attention. You sat there on the stool, swirling the thin straw in your drink out of boredom. You swivel around the chair and look at the people mingling about. Ghost and Price were challenging each other to a game of darts and, well that’s it. Damn odd numbers…

“Lovely girl like you sitting here alone with a melted rum and coke?” A figure sits down next to you on the barstool.

You turn in surprise and smile at him kindly, shrugging. Then an idea came into that head of yours, “Date kinda left me here. Might as well just get a drink huh?”

The man laughed, his light brown curls bounced a bit. He was quite handsome. From what you could tell, his hair and beard would definitely be out of regulation, so…civilian. This should be fun. “Well, let me pick off where he left off then hm?”

You nod and smile politely at him, feeling Soap’s gaze on the man in front of you as he waves down the bartender to get you a drink. “You shouldn’t have the rum and coke, between you and me,” He leans in closer to you, “It sucks.”

The bartender sets down two glasses for you both, he pays and tips her, and you two cheer and takes a sip. You feel Kyle’s back bump against yours, both still too stubborn to end this charade of you egging him on.

Soon the stranger, which is a lovely civilian doctor by the name of James, led you by your hand to the small dance floor that started to form. Don’t know how but suddenly you’re dancing all over him and so is apparently every other couple also on a date. As you laugh and joke with the man in front of you, you feel Kyle’s gaze boring into your every movement, anger radiating off of him.

The night ends, James leaves after you assure him that you have a friend taking you home soon. You finally have a good time after being so riled up with Kyle, you even forgot that he was the “friend” that’s taking you home.

So you sit down next to him, and as if on cue, Soap leaves to watch Ghost’s and Price’s ever-increasing bar game competition. You gulp as you see his knuckles turn white from his grip on the beer he was holding.

“Told Soap we’re heading home. Let’s go.” He mutters to you as he downs the rest of the beer. He grabs his keys and walks out of the pub, not bothering to look at you as you nervously trail behind him.

The car door shut loudly after you climbed into his SUV. Even then, he insisted on opening your door for you. He followed suit. You both sat in his car, the engine was on but it wasn’t moving nor was there anyone doing anything but looking forward at the people exiting and entering the pub.

He spoke. “The Hell was that?”

You gulp and turn to him, your anger was starting to cloud the nervousness that shook you. “That was me having a good time for the first time this week.” You turn to him and snap.

“Really? Gonna continue that good time streak then, hm?” Kyle said to you, his eyes lingered on your stern expression, from your eyes to your lips.

“What are you talking…Oh. Oh,” You realize as he smirks at you and shakes his head a bit. He puts his arm on the cushion of the seat you’re sitting on, backing the car out of the parking spot.

You both don’t even remember what the fight was about after that.

"Kiss me." -Johnny MacTavish

Sparring for you was never easy. It wasn’t because you couldn’t spar, it was because it was a hassle and you were lazy. But Price had ordered you all to at least get something in to not lose that particular skill set, that was his reasoning anyway. Truthfully, he just wanted to “break in” the new squad of privates that had just been stationed at your base, really give them that “141 welcome home treatment”.

It was ass crack in the morning when you limped over to the awfully bright gym-warehouse-sparring building. They had the giant doors lifted up to allow for the cool dawn air to flow through and aerate the damp steel walls. Everyone was already there, except for Gaz, he slept in you guessed. ‘He knows what’s up,’ you snort to yourself.

“Hey, Love,” Johnny’s voice rang through to your ears as you turn around to him, further away from the both of you stood Ghost and some other sergeants ready to make the line of privates fight for their lives in the Colosseum. Their faces said enough with it drained of color except for the dark circles forming under their eyes. “Better get up there you.”

He smacks your ass and you shoot him a playful glare as you walk towards the action, but of course shouting to him a playful comment, “You’re just gonna stand there and look pretty then?”

He laughs and shrugs as he grabs his thermos of coffee and stands off to the side. You roll your eyes and turn your attention to Ghost who’s pairing everyone up. “Think you handle that one right there?”

You look at where he nodded to, an E-2 who seems like he has better things to do than to be here. Honestly, he probably didn’t given he’s fresh out of basic. You snort and hit Ghost playfully, “Knock him off his high horse? Give me 30 minutes and motherfucker would be crawling outta here.”

Ghost grunted in what seemed to be a laugh and called the private over. He stood and could look Ghost in the eyes without tilting his head up too much, so you considered that pretty tall. After that, it was you and ass-kickin’ time.

Johnny, however, had finally decided to watch in as he heard your name being thrown around and a string of praises following it, so of course he had to be there to witness. But as he watch you easily throw around this guy, he couldn’t help but also watch his gaze on you. The way he licks his lips and smirks ever so slightly when you’re both on the floor. Or the way he lets you wrap your strong legs around his waist to throw him down. Johnny doesn’t like it.

He walks over to Ghost and whispers something, a usual grin and a joke thrown in to lighten and cover his facade of the bubbling anger he felt. Ghost knew though, the way his pal was practically spitting out that dick joke threw him for a loop. “Alright, that’s enough. Drink some water, you have 5 minutes!”

With that, Johnny took his cue and jogged over to you after you helped the private up from the blue mat. You pat him on the shoulder and grabbed your hand and squeezed it, your furrowed eyebrows together quizzingly. “Love, I got your water bottle over there,” he said, pointing to the corner the private was.

“Oh thanks, Johnny, you’re the best.” He leads you over and the private side-eyes him and he glares back. You unknowingly went to just grab your bottle and drink up to moisten your drying throat as you pant.

Johnny grabs you by the waist and pulls you to him, your eyes wide as you try to gulp down the water in your mouth. You lightly toss the bottle away back to its corner and look at your partner. “What? What is it?”

“Kiss me,” he says more demanding than he would’ve liked but they had to do it quickly as the private’s eyes were still on them.

He pulls you closer and giggly, you push him away. “Johnny! No, not right here!”

“Please?” He pulls out his puppy dog eyes that just frame his baby blues into the cutest thing ever.

You pout and roll your eyes, “Fine, only because you’re so cute.” Your lips close the gap between you and unknown to you, his eyes peek open to shoot the private, now creepily watching you two, a glare that could set him on fire. The private quickly turns his head and clears his throat.

Johnny stayed with you the rest of the day and Ghost made the private stay back for some extra sparring since he “wasn’t satisfied” with how you had beaten him every time.

749 notes · View notes

zepskies · 1 month

Text

Take Me Home - Part 5

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from.

AN: Welcome back, friends! We’re gonna start ramping up from here on out.

Word Count: 5K

Tags/Warnings: Angst and tension, a bit of heartbreak, a little Shakespeare, and another small cliffhanger…

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 5: Not That Simple

“I’m keeping close tabs on Carla and Emily just to be safe,” Beau admitted.

Your face became the picture of concern. But before you could respond, a man approached the table, tall and lean, with a shaggy cut of dark blonde hair. He wore a pair of faded jeans, boots, and a gray Chicago FD t-shirt.

Your face paled, and your mouth parted in surprise.

“Hey there, stranger,” he said with a smile.

“Michael?” you gasped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Beau’s eyes widened. Michael was younger than him, closer to your age. And cocky too.

“Hey, baby,” Michael said. His smile quirked with charm, but his next words were anything but charming.

“We need to talk,” he said, raising his brows.

“We actually don’t,” you retorted in a firmer voice. Cold even. You straightened in your seat.

Beau saw none of your softness and good humor from earlier. This was a different woman, and he was actually proud of you for standing your ground. Though he realized then that he’d never gotten on your bad side. (He hoped he never did.)

Michael frowned, sighing through his nose. He seemed to expect your reaction, to an extent, but was still disappointed. His gaze slid to Beau.

Seeming to realize his manners were lacking, he reached out his hand.

“Sorry for interrupting. Michael Hadley,” he greeted.

Beau stared at the other man’s hand for a moment. Instead of shaking it, he held all his true thoughts inside and flashed the newcomer an easy grin, as well as the badge on his belt.

“Sheriff Arlen,” he replied, raising a brow. “So you’re Michael.”

Michael met your eyes briefly, then Beau’s again. Michael’s hand lowered back to his side.

“So she’s talked about me,” he said.

Beau’s eyes were sharper when they took the other man in.

“Oh, believe you me, that’s not something to brag about, Mike.”

You had to bite your lip so you wouldn’t smile. Michael’s politeness thinned, but just as his mouth opened to offer a retort, Cassie and Jenny returned with the drinks.

“Hi, there,” Jenny said with civility (sort of), but her blue eyes raked over Michael in an assessing way. She’d clocked your surprise and discomfort from across the room.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stop the party,” Michael said, making you want to scoff.

Of course you did, you thought.

“I’m Michael, her fiancé,” he tried to introduce himself with an outstretched hand. Jenny also ignored that hand in order to set down the drinks.

It gave you the opportunity to interject with some reality.

“You’re missing an ex in there. As in no longer, and wish we’d never been,” you said. You crossed your arms and met Michael’s annoyed look with your firm one.

He eventually sighed and rested a hand on the back of the booth, behind your seat. You twisted to face him, but you were purposeful in leaning away from him.

Beau had to just watch the scene unfold. He didn’t like the way Michael leaned in, crowding your personal space when you were clearly trying to create distance.

“Can we talk?” Michael asked you. “Please?”

For a moment, you paused with indecision. You didn’t want to make a scene here in the middle of a bar. Not in front of your friends, where half of them were police officers. You didn’t want to stop them from having a good time either.

You met Cassie and Jenny’s eyes, and finally Beau’s. Despite the controlled, almost lazy way he’d handled Michael, you could see he didn’t look happy. You sighed.

“Sorry. Give me a minute,” you said. You got up out of the booth and went with Michael to a somewhat private corner across the restaurant.

Meanwhile, Beau tried not to seem like he was keeping an eye on you two. Cassie and Jenny were too, while sipping on their respective drinks.

“What’s the story there?” Cassie asked.

“Cheating ex,” Beau supplied.

“Great,” Jenny said wryly. Her lips pursed as she met Cassie’s knowing frown. They’d been there before.

Cassie turned to Beau and bumped his shoulder with her own.

“You okay there, Sheriff?” Cassie asked him. Beau flashed her a look that showed he was unsettled.

“I’ve got another one to add to the punch list,” he replied.

“I can’t believe you’d ambush me like this!” you whisper-yelled.

Michael crossed his arms in defense. The two of you ducked a server who was coming in hot with a plate of buffalo chicken wings.

“You came all the way to Montana? For what?” you continued. “I already said everything I had to say to you last year. And at Mary’s funeral. Thanks again for that, asshole.”

“That’s such a lie! You wouldn’t even talk to me at the funeral,” Michael shot back. “And you haven’t been answering my calls, my emails. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“You’re supposed to respect me,” you snapped. Though you couldn’t help the emotion making your voice shake, just a little. “You’re supposed to respect me, and my choices. That’s what you’re supposed to do. But I don’t why I should expect you to start now."

You started to walk away from him, but he grabbed at your hand. You turned back around and jerked your hand out of his grasp.

“It’s over. It’s been over for months. Damn near a year,” you said. “What do you want?”

He looked down at you through sad eyes under his furrowed brows.

“I never wanted it to be over,” he said quietly.

“Well, you pretty much made that decision for us,” you said, crossing your arms. You didn’t know whether it was to stand firm, or to shield yourself. “And I’m done. Quite frankly, I could live the rest of my life without seeing you again.”

“Come on. You don’t mean that,” he said.

He genuinely looked gutted, which was the confusing part. You shook your head and tried to blink the frustrated tears out of your eyes.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” you said.

“I want to say I’m sorry. And I am, more than you know. I want…I want to ask if you can forgive me,” he all but pleaded. He touched your arms, not quite grasping. For the first time since you’d known him, he seemed desperate. “Look, you know how hard it was for me to come out here and beg like a dog, but here I am…because I still love you.”

You were shocked into silence for a moment, but not out of happiness.

Then, you had to sigh. You held up a hand against his chest, a subtle move at pushing him away.

“I can’t give that to you. Even your apology is hollow. Because what you did…” you said, on a halting breath. “You did it to me for years, Michael. Pretty much from the beginning of our relationship, if it ever was one.”

You shook your head as a tear made its way down your cheek.

“And if you could do that, then you never really loved me,” you said.

Michael’s eyes fell away, to hide the emotion stinging in them.

“So…just go home,” you told him. “Be with Kate if you want. I could really give a shit.”

Once again, Michael held your wrist when you tried to leave, this time more gently. He met you with frustrated blue eyes. Those eyes you used to drown in.

“She’s not you,” he said.

You slipped out of his grip and uttered a laugh devoid of all humor.

“That, you should’ve known from the beginning,” you said.

He was hurt.

And when he was hurt, he tended to cover it up with anger. His jaw began to work with frustration.

“What, so you’re just going to run away? Live in this dusty piece of shit town until you die?” he said, with the derision you’d come to expect from him when he didn’t get what he wanted.

“Go home, Michael,” you repeated. “I’m not going back.”

“Everything okay?” Beau asked, when you finally returned to the table. He didn’t tell you that he, Jenny, and Cassie had been watching on standby, in case Michael tried to press his luck and get more grabby. It had taken everything within Beau to stay in his seat for the past ten minutes.

You gave him a smile and took up the shot of tequila Cassie had brought for you. You downed it and grimaced at the burn.

“I’m good,” you said, with a bit of difficulty. Part of you felt accomplished, that you’d faced Michael and hadn’t let him soften your resolve. Yet there was a big part of you—not so deep down—that felt like utter crap.

“Sorry for the unnecessary drama,” you muttered.

Jenny gave you a more serious look. One that said she had no problem stepping in if she needed to.

“If you ever feel unsafe, just let one of us know,” she said.

“That’s right. If he doesn’t leave it alone, all you need to do is call,” Beau added. Cassie echoed that sentiment with a nod. You met Beau’s gaze, despite the uncertainty inside you.

If you need me, call me, his eyes said.

You nodded then, with a thankful smile.

Beau couldn’t help it. He felt protective of you. It welled up in his chest and simultaneously felt heavy like a stone. And he could admit, if just to himself, that it was in the personal sense.

He tried to remember that his life was complicated right now. Too complicated probably, for all of that…but he cared about you. And he didn’t want to see you hurt.

Out of the corner of his eye, Beau spotted Michael Hadley at the bar. He was drinking a beer with an angry frown, and no good written all over his face.

Carla called Beau in a tizzy yesterday morning.

Not only had Avery bought a gun, but he’d given her some unhinged, quasi- “If I die” speech that had freaked her the hell out.

In searching Avery’s vacant hotel room, Beau found the missing pages of Paige’s journal. Pages that contained a seed phrase passcode to unlock the $15 million crypto account she and Luke had stolen.

If Avery had those pages, then it only confirmed that Avery had made a play for the money in order to save his failing business. He was attempting to break the encrypted code to unlock the account, likely for the shady-ass people Paige stole the money from in the first place.

Naturally, Beau had gone looking to bring the man in for questioning. He’d found Avery at a different, much seedier hotel, being led away by another man who walked and talked like a killer. Beau rightly assumed he was a hitman, gunning for Avery, and quite literally about to take out the trash.

Maybe the people he was working with were tired of waiting on him to unlock the account. Or maybe he’d already done it, and now they’d decided they didn’t need him anymore.

Beau was able to save Avery’s life, shooting the hitman. Then he’d arrested Avery. In return for that save, Avery had been giving Beau the runaround all night, with a side helping of audacity.

“What’s your plan here, man?” Beau asked. He leaned forward in his chair across from Avery’s. A narrow table lied in between them within the small holding cell for questioning.

“New identity? Thailand? Or maybe you’re not into the whole heat thing. Maybe Winnipeg,” Beau posed, with all due sarcasm. “You see, these people don’t forgive. And they don’t forget. And the ones that steal from them rarely die alone, which means you have put Carla, and you’ve put my daughter into danger. Did you even think about that?”

Right about now, Beau himself was beyond forgive and forget. In fact, he was irate. But he held it all down beneath a thin line of professionalism, despite the fire in his eyes.

Avery rested his elbows on the table as well.

“Everything I’ve done has been to protect my family. That’s all you need to know,” he said. “You on the other hand. You’ve made quite the mess, haven’t you? Killing that man put us all in more danger.”

He then leaned back in his chair, as if he held all the cards, and Beau was just a monkey wrench in his plans. It was a good front, but Beau saw right through it all. Avery was bluffing through his ass.

Still, he put on a good show.

“And now I’d very much like to speak to my lawyer,” he said.

It took everything within the sheriff to stop himself from reaching across the table, grabbing the other man by the collar, and yanking him down hard on the table, face-first.

Instead, he got up from his seat, deceptively calm. The only explosion of his rage came when he kicked his chair hard on his way out, making it slide across the room and hit the wall. He yanked the cell door open and closed it firm behind him.

He knew he couldn’t hold Avery, not even on Paige’s journal pages. As Avery had so cleverly pointed out, the money hadn’t been reported stolen (why would criminals drop a dime on themselves?). So Beau would let Avery go, for now. All he could do was wait for the cocky son of a bitch to mess up, even more than he already had.

Beau hated waiting.

But his next step was returning to his office and calling Carla. He asked her to join Emily in staying with him, until this thing with Avery blew over. Likely the people he was working with knew where he lived, knew how to find Carla and Emily.

Carla sounded shaken even on the phone, but she agreed.

“Is Emily at work right now?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’ll tell her,” Carla said, releasing a breath. “I’ll take her to your place again tonight, and I’ll bring an overnight bag for myself.”

“Good,” he said. “Thank you.”

After hanging up, Beau leaned back in his office chair and covered his bearded face with his hands. He rubbed at his tired eyes. What the hell do I do now?

The answer eluded him, especially when a knock sounded against his door, disturbing his thoughts. He sighed.

“Yeah?”

“It’s me,” you answered from behind the door. “I come bearing baked goods.”

Beau’s eyes widened in surprise. He beckoned you to come in, and so you did.

“Working hard, or hardly working?” you teased.

The sight of you was a balm to his frayed mind. Your familiar face, your pretty yellow sundress, the way you’d done your hair. It all managed to kick up his smile at seeing yours. Not to mention the delicious smelling basket you carried on your arm. The top was covered with a red checkered cloth.

“Hey, there. How’re you doin’?” he greeted, trying to hide the brunt of his former frustration and worry behind a more upbeat attitude.

He knew he hadn’t done well enough when your smile began to fall.

“Sorry, did I come at a bad time?” you asked in concern. “Deputy Poppernak told me I could stop in real quick…”

Beau shook his head and waved you in. “It’s all right. Come in, please.”

He stood and walked around his desk to sit on its edge.

“I have a feeling I’m gonna want whatever’s in that basket,” he added, nodding at the whicker you carried. You offered it to him, and your warm hand brushed his on the exchange.

“Just a little something,” you said. “And an apology for making a scene at the bar last night.”

Beau frowned. “You’re not really blaming yourself for that, are you?”

Though he soon brightened, whistling lowly when he found a half dozen chocolate chip muffins under the checkered cloth. A smile grew across his face when it dawned on him. The first thing you offered him when he met you was this very same treat.

He had a feeling your muffins would be even better. (...And he tried not to think about the potential double meaning there.)

“Damn, between you and your aunt Denise, I’m gonna have to start running again,” he quipped. His eyes met yours in amusement. “And between you and me, I freakin’ hate running.”

You chuckled at that. “I’m more of a yoga girl, myself.”

Beau’s brows rose in interest, but again, he tried not to picture you in some tight-ass yoga pants.

“Thank you for this,” he said, instead, waving the basket of muffins. He set it down beside him on the desk. “I definitely needed a pick-me-up today.”

You searched his face and began to frown at what you saw there. He both looked and sounded…tired, down. Not himself.

You drew closer and chanced resting a hand on his arm. “Hey, are you okay?”

Beau glanced down at your hand. He took in a deep breath through his nose before he met your gaze again.

“Yeah, don’t you worry. Everything’s fine,” he said. You gave him a somewhat chiding look.

“Beau, you don’t have to tell me it’s okay when it’s not,” you said.

He considered you ruefully. He should’ve known you were perceptive enough to see right through him. Or maybe he was just a shit actor.

He blew out a breath and nodded. “I asked Carla and Emily to stay with me for the next few days. At least until this investigation of Avery plays out.”

Your patient expression melted into worry. You had a feeling he wouldn’t do that unless things were truly dangerous.

“See, that’s what I didn’t wanna see,” he said, lightly bumping a curled finger under your chin. Despite yourself, you smiled a little. “I just want them where I can see them, is all.”

He was putting on a good front, but you weren’t convinced. And Beau could see that. He nodded at you to change the subject.

“Has Mike tried to contact you?” he asked. It was your turn to let out a sigh.

“Only two calls and eleven texts before lunch, but I’m not answering. He’ll get the hint and go home soon,” you said.

But Beau was perceptive too. He knew you well enough to read your added thoughts as you frowned and looked away. It said, At least, you hope he will.

Beau wanted to reassure you, not just to help make you feel safe, but because his gut churned with both unease and anger at the thought of that guy harassing you.

Beau reached out and gave into the temptation to stroke a thumb across your cheek, earning not just your attention, but your widening eyes.

“Hey. No more worrying, huh?” he said. His voice was quieter, warmer. He gave you a smile, along with an assured look.

“If anything happens—” he started to say, but you actually beat him to it. You held his hand to your cheek, surprising him this time.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve got the sheriff on speed dial,” you said. Your smile was sweet and teasing.

Beau had to smile back. His gaze roamed your face. Then your eyes dipped down to his lips. There was heat between you, prickling across your skin and zipping up his spine. It was an inevitable, raw kind of feeling.

He wanted, more than anything, to lean in those precious few inches and find out what you tasted like… He wanted nothing more than to haul you up on this desk, hands sliding up the skirt of that sundress.

But he held himself back with more self-control than he thought himself capable of. His hand fell away from your cheek. You looked up at him in confusion, and a bit of hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, in a lowered voice. “My life is…complicated.”

“And mine’s not?” you countered.

“Not the same,” Beau said. “Trust me. I uh, I’ve got some things in my past that I’m not proud of. Let’s just say you’re better off steering clear.”

“Let’s just say?” you repeated. Your brows drew together in frustration. “Why don’t you just say it? God knows you know everything about my messy life.”

Beau sighed. His gaze fell away from yours.

“It’s not that simple, darlin’,” he said.

He saw your disappointment, tinged with disbelief. As much as he didn’t want to hurt you, he also didn’t really have time to explain things properly to you. The truth was, he didn’t have time for this.

“Look—” he tried, but you cut him off.

“No. It’s fine, I guess,” you said. You looked down at your shoes and muttered, mostly to yourself. “Em was right. You are an old clam.”

“What?” Beau asked in confusion.

You shook your head and withdrew from him.

“Okay, sorry. I just…you know what? I need to go,” you stumbled over your words a bit, and you backed away.

It had Beau feeling at a loss already, not to mention the lance of guilt hitting him between the ribs. He stretched out a hand to you.

“Wait—”

You were too quick for him to stop, however. He watched you leave his office in a hurry, and mentally kicked himself all the while. He sighed and looked over at what you’d left behind—the damn basket of muffins. They smelled heavenly. Torturing him.

Damn it all, he thought, until he played back the reel of what you’d said in his mind.

“Old clam?” he repeated.

Once again, a knock on his office door disturbed his thoughts. Except this time, it was Deputy Poppernak.

He stopped short, seeing the furrowed look of confused, guilty frustration on the sheriff’s face.

“Everything okay, boss?”

“Fine,” Beau said, shaking his head. “What d’you got?”

Poppernak hesitated for a second, but he held up a file that he passed along.

“Here’s everything I could dig up on the guy from the hotel shooting,” he said.

Good, Beau thought. A worthy distraction.

You gave Poppernak a belated wave on your way out. You didn’t want to answer any questions or talk to anyone else. You just wanted to escape to your car, where you covered your face with your hands and tried to breathe through the tears stinging in your eyes.

Once again, you felt stupid. Your heart was racing in the worst of ways.

So you peeled out of the police station and headed home…

Or rather, you almost headed home. When you saw Dewell & Hoyt P.I. coming up on the right side of the road, you turned into the parking lot and went inside to see if your aunt was working.

Cassie wasn’t in, but Denise and Emily were. You greeted them both with warm hugs (and you tried to hide your frustrations from the latter, especially).

“What brought you in, hun?” Denise asked.

“Nothing really. I was just in the area and decided to pop in,” you replied with a shrug. Denise smiled and rubbed your arm.

“Well good. Em’s actually going on a coffee run for us. You want anything?”

“No, no, I’m good,” you said.

“You sure?” said Emily. “I can get you a banana bread or something.”

You smiled and shook your head, touching her arm in thanks. “It’s okay, honey. I just had lunch not too long ago.”

“Okay. Oh hey! Did you ask Dad about being on the podcast?” Emily asked.

You blinked as you went blank for a moment. The last thing you wanted to do right now was see that man (even if your heart called you a liar). You narrowly kept yourself from lying to Emily as well.

“Uh, yeah, we did talk about it. He’s on board with the idea,” you said, trying to give her a smile. Maybe it didn’t reach your eyes, but Emily seemed to buy it. She smiled back in triumph.

“Yes! Okay, this is good. Now I just gotta start thinking of some questions and we’ll set a date to record the first episode,” she said, doing a little fist pump into the air.

You tried to match her enthusiasm, but you knew you were falling short. Denise could see it too. Lucky for you, Emily ran off to get to the nearby bakery, the excitement keeping her face bright all the while.

Denise turned to you knowingly.

“Okay, grab a seat. I’ll make us some tea, and you can tell me what’s got you looking white as a sheet,” she said.

You sighed and sat down in the lounge area—a seating of couches and a chaise. You sat on the couch while Denise took the chaise. And between mugs of jasmine tea, you told her everything that happened at the precinct when you went to visit Beau.

When you were done explaining, Denise looked contemplative and sympathetic. However, you knew there was more to that look.

“Okay. Honey, I know you don’t want to hear this, but he’s in a complex situation right now,” she said. “Between investigating Avery, and how it’s falling back on Carla and Emily—”

“I know. He told me about that,” you said. You were worried about them too. While you didn’t know Carla all that well, your friendship with Emily meant something to you. And not just because you had some…unnamed feelings for her father.

Your bond with Emily had started at that damned camp, and solidified the night of Mary’s murder. “Trauma bonding” was a thing for a reason. But besides that experience, you genuinely enjoyed the girl’s company, hearing her talk about her interests in school, careers she was considering after college, and even helping her explore her creative side. She was young, but she was bright and mature for her age.

You cared about what all this was putting her through…though you finally realized that Emily might not be comfortable with the thought of “you and Beau.”

“I don’t want to upset Emily with all this either,” you admitted. “I don’t even know what she thinks of her dad possibly dating again.”

And something else you hadn’t considered. Could all this shakeup between Avery and Carla, not to mention her and Emily staying at Beau’s place now…

“God. Maybe he wants to get back together with his ex-wife,” you realized, with some small shock.

It wasn’t inconceivable, and it had tears welling up in your eyes for a whole different reason.

"Oh, honey, you don't know that," Denise started to say. You shook your head and set down your tea.

“You know what? I’m just gonna go home,” you said, but Denise tried to keep you with gentle hands on your arms.

“Come on. You don’t have to go,” she said.

You shook your head and eased out of her grasp.

“Sorry. I just…it’s his choice, and if he’s already made it…” you trailed. You didn’t want to even acknowledge that your heart was fracturing. “Well, if that’s the case, then I have to respect that.”

Denise didn’t know what else to say to you. But that was just as well.

“Tell Em I’m sorry, but I had to go,” you said.

Denise protested, but you left Dewell & Hoyt before your tears could fall in earnest.

When you actually got home, you were exhausted. It was a case of emotional stress weighing down your body as you forced yourself up the stairs to your second-floor apartment.

You didn’t bother changing. Instead, you grabbed a familiar book of plays from your desk and dropped yourself onto the couch. You got comfortable with Much Ado About Nothing. You hadn’t finished reading it while at the camp, and you needed to brush up on it if you were going to be mentally prepared for the coming school year.

It felt like a world away, but at least with the characters in Much Ado, you had familiar ground. In the scene you were reading, the main characters, Beatrice and Benedick, were already at each other’s throats:

BENEDICK: What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?

BEATRICE: Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain if you come in her presence.

BENEDICK: Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted; and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart, for truly I love none.

BEATRICE: A dear happiness to women. They would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood I am of your humor for that. I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me.

It was hard to believe that these two were supposed to fall in love. Actually, their later “epiphanies” would lead them to realize that the sniping and the arguments and the misunderstandings between them had been love all along…

But you’d come to realize that there was no “Benedick” for you in real life. Sometimes, the angry sniping wasn’t sexual tension. It was just a man who’d never truly respect you.

And sometimes, the arguments and misunderstandings were just two people in the right place at the wrong time, never quite meant to be.

Thankfully, a knock at your door interrupted your romantic musings.

Releasing a sigh, you set Much Ado on the glass coffee table in front of you. You got up from the couch and went to the front door, where you looked in the peephole. Your lips drew into a frown, but your disbelief had you unlocking the door before you could think better of it.

“Michael?! What are you doing here?” you asked.

He stood there with determination set across his face.

“We really need to talk.”

AN: *Sigh.* This guy just doesn't learn, does he? And I'm not just talking about Michael.

Next Time:

“If you give me one more chance, I promise I won’t mess it up again. I’ll be the man you deserve,” Michael said, taking your hand and uncrossing your arms in the process.

“Believe it or not, I took a week off without pay, just to be here and get a chance to say this to you: I love you. I love you. And I know now that it’s meant to be you.”

You hesitated, and even made the mistake of looking up into his eyes.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 6

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Series Masterlist

Big Sky Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @ades106

@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @deans-baby-momma @tabsluvsu @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons

@antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @deans-spinster-witch @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @iprobablyshipit91 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @lostin-jensenseyes @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow

#Not That Simple #Take Me Home #Part 5 #Beau Arlen series #big sky #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x female reader #Emily Arlen #beau arlen x you #Jensen Ackles characters #big sky season 3 #Denise Brisbane #Jenny Hoyt #Cassie Dewell #zepskies writes

177 notes · View notes

itscherrylipsforme · 1 month

Text

A love story yet to be written: Jason Todd x Vigilante!bookworm!fem!reader

Summary: The mysterious Red Hood has been your loyal teammate since you became another one of Gotham's vigilantes. Many literature puns and "subtle" flirty comments later, he has decided that it's time to meet you when you two are not covered by the city's darkness and your secret identities

Warnings: Just dozens of references to my fave classic lit authors and novels

Requested: yes

Words: About 1570

Author rambles: God, this has been on my drafts for so long. Glad I was finally able to publish it. Thanks to the anon who sent the request, hope you like it 🫶🏼

Masterlist Characters I write for

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ

I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗

Gotham’s skies were pitch black when you submerged, like every twilight, in its streets and roofs. Masked face, combat boots, dark sweater and jeans paired with a black leather jacket and a bulletproof vest under all of it. Pointed daggers on your belt, a pair of guns attached to your back harness just in case. Being a vigilante was not an easy side job, but you needed to do it.

Some people simply can’t watch their whole world fall apart and stare blankly. And you would certainly not stay back when your beloved city was drowning in corruption and crime. Growing up you had always been aware that they were others protecting you. Batman, Robin, and the other peculiar crime fighters that had joined them with the pass of time. But being honest, Gotham was a criminals dump, and all the help they could get counted.

So, you decided to do you your bit. Trained hard, learned how to hide in the shadows and started to feel that what you did matter to your people. Recognition was not long in coming, although fame was not what you were after anyway. One night a camera caught you beating up one bastard who was trying to assault a young girl, next day you were on the news. Dusk they called you and you were not annoyed by the nickname, it suited you in a certain way.

You soon became another no-faced admired warrior to your neighbours. Not bad for the girl who used to be bookworm theatre kid back in High School. Becoming one of Gotham’s saviours was not one of your dreams job as a child, but life has surprising turns waiting for us. What was even more unexpected is that you ended up meeting one of the other vigilantes and that he had become an interesting fellow during the otherwise solitaire superhero’s nights.

“Nice to see you here in the dead vast and middle of the night, darling” He greeted you, after hearing your feet landing in the same rooftop he was in. Didn’t matter if he was backwards, you had started to think he had developed a sixth sense to notice your presence. You could almost bet he was smiling bellow his metallic helmet.

“Good night, Hodd” You answered coming by his side. “Shakespeare, wasn’t it?”

“Smart girl. Hamlet, more precisely” You agreeded “You arrived later than you use to”

“Missed me, geekie boy?” A little chuckle broke the silence of Gotham.

“Of course I did! I would not wish any companion in the world but you” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, his gaze locked in the city’s sky. “And admit it, you are as much a nerd as I am”

“The Tempest? Have you been rereading Uncle Willy’s plays again?” The question ended up sounding like a half-joke half-teasing “And you are right, bookworm and proud. We wouldn’t get along so easily if I weren’t. I declare after all that there is no enjoyment like reading”

A slow nod was the only answer you received. You were certain that a smile was decorating his face at the moment. But not in a million of years you could have imagined that his usual smirk was now followed by a pinkish tone in his cheeks. How long he had been like this around you? He couldn’t recall exactly. This flirting slightly hided between book quotes and glances had been part of your friendship for quite sometime now.

The only problem? He couldn’t bear with being just a friend anymore. When it had all started? He didn’t know. Maybe the night he met you. And when the two of you started patrolling together like every other night, he couldn’t help coming back to those sweet memories still fresh on his mind.

“Another superhero wannabe” that’s what he thought when he first saw you moving from celling to celling without the grace and rhythm that only years of practice can give you. And he was not wrong, you were an amateur, one who still need to practice, but you definitely were determinate enough for that. Jason was not aware of this, therefore he decided to have some fun.

“What are you doing here?” He asked jumping to your side with a voice tone much deeper than his usual one.

“Patrolling” You managed to say in a whisper, rising your head to look at him directly. Shivers run through your spine, not knowing what to do. But you would not allow him to notice your fear.

“Scared of me darling?” He leaned a little so he could be nearer to your face.

“Not even a little, I know who you are” You answered and somehow the most daring and wittiest part of your mind chose to add the next sentence “And also there is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others.”

“My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.” He finishes almost instinctively.

He stared at your for some instants, not believed the words that had just come out of your lips. Another vigilante? Who quoted Austen? The night was turning up to be quite interesting.

“You are a sharp girl, with a good book taste” He resolved. “Red Hodd, at your service” He offered you his hand and his presentation, although it was no needed.

And that’s how all started, now a few months later you two keep protecting Gotham from whoever and whatever treats it. This night had been tranquil, a seldom occurrence, and Jason hadn’t talked to much, his mind was focused on a matter which had been troubling him for weeks. When the first rays of light threaten to appear, it’s time to farewell. Not without cracking some bad puns first of course.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Dusk is the sun.” He smirked once again.

“First, that’s contradictory. Second, you seriously have to get over your Shakespeare era”.

“Does that mean I don’t get a proper goodbye?” Even with his voice modulator you could hear the teasing edge on the question.”

“Of course, you do” You tried to come up with something silly, yet sweet. “Good night, sweet prince, and flights and angels sing thee to thy rest!”

With that you made a small joking bow and left the rooftop to go back home. It had been enough; Jason had made out his mind. He was going to look for you. He needed to see the unmasked face who had been able to be the first one to win his heart. Luckily, one of his many siblings is a professional hacker.

A bookstore, somehow, he was not surprised at all when Tim found your worked there. In his jean’s pocket there was a small piece of paper with dozens of cheesy books lines that made him think of you. "You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read." "We would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright." “You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how” … And those were only the first ones. There were not enough words in the books from your bookstore to describe how nervous he was and how much he wanted to tell you he loved you. But he could at least try.

Your elbows were resting on the counter, another novel laying in front of you. When the doorbell rang announcing another client, you immediately smiled and looked at Jason. You left your seat to meat him by the door, the book long forgotten.

“Took you long enough to find me, geekie boy” You gritted him.

All his speech and quotes banished in the air with just a single sentence of yours. He finally came to himself.

“Wait, were you waiting for me?”

“Of course, I did” You chuckle, God he loved that sound “For almost two months, after all your bad pick-up lines I thought you would be ready to come and met me in person”.

“But… How have you recognized me?” Confusion was still seen on his face.

“Easy. Looked for the libraries and bookstores that had your favourite tittle. Cheeked the names of all the men who borrowed or bought them. Looked for their photos on the internet and compared them with the physical description I had from your” You shrug your shoulders as that work was nothing to you “I am a vigilante after all”.

“I have a brother who would love to meet you, you know?”

“Maybe later, but I guess you came here because you had something to tell me”.

He took a deep breath. Just a few hours, that was all he needed to win you over this time. "In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed.” He said softly, but determinate “You must allow me to tell you how ardently I love and admire you.”

Just after he finished your lips were meeting his in a soft and sweet kiss, like the ones written in romance novels.

“You have bewitched me, body and soul” You whispered to his ear.

“Actually, that’s from the movie, not the book”.

You had to kiss him again, this time with more passion, to shut him up.

#jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader

186 notes · View notes