#honestly probably both but only subconsciously

[jeanmoreaue]

I agree!! *an incoherent rant incoming* Jean imo def moved on from Kevin (in a romantic way; i think he’s not moved on from the whole ‘Kevin left me’ thing ofc but I think he obviously knows and accepts that he and Kevin won’t ever happen lol). And that scene with Renee was obviously a closure/farewell and they’ve moved on to being friends now (also imo while i like their dynamic i feel like they’d never work bc of the whole victim saviour complex, that’d be really uncomfortable and hard to overcome). Jeremy seems like he’s able to handle Jean’s crazy baggage without placating him too much or pushing him too hard. He definitely needs to work on his own shit first (i feel like the way he went all in on helping Jean is kind of giving ‘I am avoiding my problems by getting too involved in others’ problems’) but I think Jean will be the perfect person to help him with that! As you said he’s super perceptive and honestly very empathetic even if he doesn’t show it in the most obvious way. Jeremy would probably really appreciate Jean’s brutally honest approach lol. They’re lowkey perfect for each other ☹️ TSC2 can’t come soon enough

hardcore agree on every single point you made!! i feel exactly the same about Jean and Renee, as much as their dynamic is sweet, i think it would be really difficult to overcome Jean feeling indebted to her (whereas Jean and Jeremy are both growing together) + ya i think Jean has very complicated feelings toward Kevin but i don’t think he’s actively yearning over Kevin anymore

and exactlyy i definitely imagine Jean quietly picking up on whatever Jeremy’s going through and expressing concern only for Jeremy to try and pull a “my problems aren’t that bad and therefore don’t matter” which i don’t see Jean accepting. especially since Jean has an ‘older brother who cares more about other people’s well-being more than his own well-being’ vibe (underneath his slightly prickly attitude lol) i think Jeremy and Jean are really good for each other, Kevin subconsciously knew what he was doing by having Jean transfer to USC 🤨

#anon i love you #that was absolutely not incoherent we’re on the same wavelength here #def craving that next book lol #feel like it’s still only the very beginning of jean’s story #would not be surprised if we got two more books to make another trilogy #side note but i’m still so obsessed w the characterization of Jean as being so perceptive and attuned to other people’s feelings #logically i know it’s bc he had to read riko’s mood to appease him and probably also his parents #since even tho he barely will talk about it he’s confirmed that at the very least his mother beat him #and i honestly just can’t imagine his father who literally sold him treated jean any better #but even tho it’s partially due to abuse i still think it says something about jean #bc riko underwent horrible abuse too and was raised by similarly horrible people too #and yet riko turned out the way he did #and jean became perceptive and caring so #… anyways sorry to pop off in the tags lmao #aftg #tsc #the sunshine court #jean moreau #i just love him so #jerejean #ask tag

[justaz]

does merlin hate hunting because his magic allows him to feel the fear and death of the animals or because he hates hunting the innocent creatures simply for being born as they are? does he relate it to camelots hunting of sorcerers? does he feel like a knight chasing after a woman who only wished to grow food to feed her family or a child who didn't know any better and only wished to watch his toys dance in the air?

#bbc merlin #merlin emrys #honestly probably both but only subconsciously #like yeah he can feel with his magic the animals dying and he knows thats a reason for hating it #but i think subconsciously hes drawing parallels and it also has an effect on him but he doesnt realize #hc #headcanon #head canon

[starbuck]

I had another BCS dream about a cat… why am I so determined to put a cat in this show??

#also i have now dreamed about All of the Salamancas - so that’s fun #Nacho was in this one too… #it’s kind of hard to explain the plot because it didn’t make any sense #but basically there was concern that this cat could somehow be used as evidence against the cartel #because it had gotten loose and been taken in by a well-meaning local pet store #(i think my brain was channeling dr.acula daily re: the SPCA trying to adopt Dracula - tho in this case it was just a normal cat but #just Also potentially evidence somehow) #so Eladio (who was also in this dream) wanted Nacho to keep an eye on the pet store #and presumably eventually steal the cat back before anyone figured out what was going on #but i woke up before things could go any further #unclear if this was the same cat from the previous dream - which was Hector’s cat #i mean i guess that would make sense… probably not the intention of my tortured subconscious but i’ll integrate that into my worldview #still entertained that my brain just Decided that Hector would be a cat person… very honestly i stand by that one #Tuco was also in this dream - but he was not part of the cat subplot #or not directly anyway… it was all connected somehow #Lalo’s the only one who hasn’t appeared in a Cat Dream so far… #in the dream he was in - he was trying to fake his own death but in a different way than in the show #there was no body double available to him so a lot more elaborate nonsense was involved to make it believable to both the twins and Gus #and i don’t remember most of it - but it entertained me a lot regardless #if i EVER have a depressing bcs-related dream i’m cancelling my dreams forever #but these silly nonsense ones are highly cherished and encouraged #this is my subconscious’ way of Coping i think 😂😂 #bcs #(like. not really… but in case anybody’s blacklisting it lmaooooo)

[matrixbearer2024]

Troubles Unforeseen

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: Wowowowow- I did not realize my story would be so well received hahaha, I'm honestly grateful you guys like it so much. Anyways- here's the loooong awaited continuation to the series and I hope you all enjoy this installment as much as you've enjoyed the past ones. Happy reading!

A/N: To say this was looong overdue is a friggin understatement since it's literally just been chilling in my drafts like no one's business hahahaha. I'm posting it now so people can start writing ideas about what to do after Reader dies, but go ahead and feel free to keep posting HCs about Reader still being alive. It's an AU at this point and I'll keep writing about it like one HAHAHAHA!

To say Vox paid more attention to you now was slightly an understatement.

You were both practically connected by the hip digitally.

Even your friend group noticed how much time you'd spent just chatting whoever was on the receiving end of your shenanigans.

Not that they knew what kind of peculiar situation was always on the other side of the screen.

In fact, Vox was aware he probably should've been paying more attention to the meeting he was in-

It just so happens that you interested him more than any typical business ever could.

All the more when you'd told him you were getting ready for a party.

"It's just a birthday celebration Vox, it's not like I'm going to a club or anything."

"If there's any booze try not to get shitfaced, or will you drive yourself there?"

You could only giggle at his worry, taking a glance at your phone as it continued to buzz from his messages.

You clipped on the new earrings you'd bought just a few days ago to go with your outfit.

Even if you had gone shopping with your friends-

You still sent Vox pictures, asking what look he preferred.

He was in the middle of spying on Alastor when you once again swiped up all his attention.

Aaaaaand he actually thought you looked great in all of the outfits.

A warm feeling spread through him upon seeing your cheeky grin and silly poses.

Ah whatever, at this point it was nothing new.

But he did finally end up picking the one which bore a striking resemblance to his color scheme.

You didn't even notice at first when you bought the outfit.

Only when you saw the small desktop companion Vox made for you while doing assignments did you realize the subconscious decision your overlord buddy had made.

You teased him about it for a while too, much to his chagrin.

"I'll be with my friends, you don't have anything to worry about."

"The same friends that caused how we met? Doll, I have every right to be concerned."

Vox had nothing against the chaotic nature of your friends.

After all they always brought out the best-

And the worst-

In you, no matter what you were doing.

Even so, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was very... off.

Like an ominous shadow just looming over his shoulder.

He didn't make any mention of it though, thinking he was just being paranoid.

Besides, he didn't want to rain on your parade.

You'd gone the whole nine yards to pretty yourself up for the party.

He wouldn't want your efforts to be in vain.

Vox felt a twinge of jealousy towards the fact others would be able to admire how nice you were in real time, he only had pictures.

Wait what-

Okay, there was definitely something still wrong with him.

"I might not be as active for a few hours because of the party so go and actually focus on the things you gotta do."

"Are you insinuating that I don't do that already?"

"When you spam memes and talk to me nearly all the time can you blame me for not thinking you're always distracted?"

Vox mumbled cursed under his breath, rolling his eyes and glancing back up to check if the boring meeting was over.

Ugh... were they even halfway done discussing this shit?

"Yeah whatever, enjoy your party dollface. Don't get too hammered."

"Hahaha love you too dumbass, I'll keep you updated."

The overlord glitched slightly reading your reply.

His stomach definitely did a flip when he first saw what you typed.

Vox already knew it was probably just a: "I love you as a really close friend" thing-

But that didn't stop his systems from freaking out about it anyhow.

He decided it would be best to stop thinking about it anyways, placing his phone down and finally placing his attention back on the meeting.

Like it should've been the entire time-

Vox didn't really give a fuck though.

On your end, you were going to be picked up by your friends before you all headed to the party.

You guys decided it would be smarter to carpool so most of you guys could actually drink and unwind.

"Heeeeey bitch! Wow! Your outfit slays!"

You rolled your eyes before climbing into shotgun.

"I had some help picking out the look, any good?"

"(Y/N) you are going to break necks with how fast heads will turn, are you kidding me??"

That just reminded you of something Vox said when you showed him the pictures of your completed outfit.

'They're going to turn their heads so fast it'll give them whiplash! You look stunning darling!'

Vox's knack for petnames sometimes embarrassed you, especially when it sometimes seemed a little more than friendly.

Though- that was probably not the case, he was just being the charming idiot TV telecaster that he was with his sweet talk.

You often caught yourself wondering if he ever meant his words, or if it was just the persona Vox played up.

You partly hoped he meant it, even if you didn't know why.

That was until the not-so-subtle snickering of your friends popped the thought bubble you were in.

"Ooookay, what's so funny?"

"Who are you thinking about~? That digital 'friend' of yours?"

You audibly groaned from the situation your friends were insinuating.

They never really believed that you were just chatting with a friend when you were on the phone with Vox.

Despite the multiple times you'd blatantly mentioned that he really was just that.

A friend, a companion-

He wasn't supposed to be anything more than that right?

A blush was creeping up your neck as your friends continued to prod and tease at you for it, fanning your own face slightly to try and calm down the raging embarrassment.

Of course, it would always be fun and games-

Until it wasn't.

Everything happened so fast.

You were just joking with your friends in one moment-

And now you were coughing up blood in the next.

You remembered your friends screaming, some bright headlights, the brakes screeching then metal crunching.

You couldn't even move.

The entire front of the car had been shoved backwards into the front seats.

Even if the paramedics got here in time, you doubted they could save you.

The coppery tang of blood stained your tongue.

You'd gotten all dolled up for the party too.

It's unfortunate that now you'd never be able to go.

Heh... you probably wouldn't even be able to get drunk now either.

Wait-

Oh shit-

Vox!!

You wanted to reach for your phone but both your arms were fucked up in the crash.

The only thing you could really move was your head.

Even then, darkness was already starting to creep into your vision.

It didn't matter how valiantly you fought to keep your eyes open.

You lost too much blood, by the time the paramedics had arrived-

They announced you dead and took you away in a body bag.

The lower half of you had gotten entirely mangled from the accident that you surviving seemed bleak to begin with.

You thought you were done for when you closed your eyes for the final time.

Only when you opened them again- you were somewhere else entirely.

What...?

The skies were blood red, there was practically fire and murder everywhere you turned-

And oh ew- it even smelled like rotten burning corpses.

Where the fuck were you??

Was this supposed to be hell???

You carefully wandered around, hesitating here and there before stumbling across a large building.

Hazbin Hotel...?

Huh, you had no where else to go.

Might as well give it a shot.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #Get Off My Screen Series

[ghcstao3]

for a large part of his life, ghost had a fear of snakes. with his father’s abuse planting that seed in childhood and roba only amplifying it through his torture, it isn’t much of a surprise at all.

but ghost… can’t stand for that. he doesn’t want this fear to have any power, because it means his father and roba still have a hold over him, even with the both of them long since dead. so ghost starts exposing himself to snakes, bit by bit. it isn’t the creature’s fault that he’s afraid of them, so he can at least try to do something about it.

and over time, with lots of therapy to pair with that exposure—ghost actually ends up falling in love with these creatures. they become his favourite animal in getting over his fear.

now—imagine snake shifter soap. a king cobra, large, powerful, venomous. he keeps his shifter form a secret because he doesn’t want people to be unnecessarily afraid of him; they have no reason to be, unless they give him one. only price and laswell know at this point.

then he catches word of ghost and his affinity. he’s already trusting with the lieutenant, more so than he should probably be, but he is. so there isn’t much thought behind revealing himself to ghost.

ghost is the first person to not show any sign of fear at soap’s shifted form. he instead just sits with this beast of a snake, trailing gloved fingers along the smooth pattern of soap’s scales. soap has never seen his lieutenant so… mesmerized. like a kid in a candy shop.

when soap shifts back, ghost asks a few questions, seemingly subconsciously rattling off a few facts about soap’s species that, honestly, some of which soap himself had no idea about.

some of which actually make soap deadlier in the field.

that little bonding moment propels their friendship forward, though it very well would have gotten to that point without soap’s shifter status. the process is just… sped up a little.

though, the snake shifter part does come with it’s benefits for ghost. when he’s already got a reputation and totes a skull mask around, it just makes him ten times more terrifying when he’s seen walking around base with a king cobra curled around his frame.

#angst potential of ghost’s fear returning with soap #except i’m not mean to the blorbos (this time) #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #alternate universe

[baldursyourgate]

Y'know when Minthara said "I came to Moonrise with a retinue of warriors and assassin - the best House Baenre had to offer." it really sounds like the Baenre sent her out to lead a full-force surface raid to take the (filthy surface dwellers who dared to preach not of Lolth in Menzoberranzan) cult of the Absolute down.

Such resources and task are not to be taken lightly as it is done in the name of Lolth... And then she fucks it all up. Not only did Moonrise stand but also all of her men are either dead or converted.

Her entire life got turned upside down. From an esteemed commander who led such campaign to being forsaken by her one and only goddess, the ever-present presence in every Underdark drow's life - Lolth. Her Matron's wrath is certain, she cannot go home, plus the threat of the shapeshifting Orin dials up the paranoia to a 10. She's between a rock and a hard place.

So when I read about people saying Minthara's really nice for a drow I mean... She basically lost everything and is probably at one of the lowest points in her life. And if you romanced her at the goblin party, for a moment, suddenly it was fine. Her mind was clear again, her lover's embrace was a safe haven. Conquered the grove, the first win in days. Tav was the only good thing happened to her so far since she set foot on the strange world of the surface. The only friend and trusted ally (and lover) she's got. Company that well deserve civil conversations and more.

She knows how she's perceived: drow, not trustworthy, not "good"; a woman stripped of all her noble titles - an exile - you're better off marrying the Duke's son than her (she tells Tav this if you break up with her for Wyll).

Drow uses one another to fulfil their ambitions, then discards of their allies like they were nothing. And yet, you - a stranger who has all the reason not to trust her, keep her safe, near, promise and deliver the promise of vengeance for her - killing Orin. You don't have to promise her anything, yet you deliver.

The kind of security and certainty Tav (as both a friend and a lover) gives her is probably nothing she has ever experienced during her entire life in the Underdark. Being the intense and insane person she is, giving her 1000% in terms of dedication and loyalty to Tav is honestly fitting in my opinion.

Take in the fact that she was abandoned by two gods at this point (Lolth and the Absolute - albeit a false one), perhaps subconsciously giving her all was to not being abandoned again.

And that makes turning her away after learning that she was brainwashed by the Absolute, one of the cruellest decisions one can make in game.

Simply flat out killing her like any other enemies, not knowing that she was a woman brainwashed and lost everything puts her up there as one of the more tragic characters in game.

#lmao this draft was from a while ago... if u recognize what that last paragraph was for ur the OG #minthara #*peels her like an onion* girl u have so many layers ily

[herlondonboy]

5 Times You Flirted With Wednesday And 1 Time She Flirted Back

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x gn!reader / Enid Sinclair x platonic!reader

Summary: what the title says

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, y/n being down bad, I got lazy after the second one, also I wrote it when I was half asleep, google translated Spanish (sorry if it’s wrong). lmk if there are any more !!

Word Count: 1.1k

1.

The first time you’d flirted with Wednesday Addams was completely subconsciously, honestly. You walked into your friend’s dorm and froze at the sight of Enid watching with a frown as she took the colour off the window on her side.

“Holy shit.” You mumbled, completely blown away.

Enid turned to you, but you were too enthralled by the mystery in front of you to look away. You tilted your head and admired her jawline and braids. Her fringe were scary, it was so perfect, like she just hopped off the Hairspray set. When she was done, she kicked the translucent vellum paper mindlessly onto Enid’s half. When you looked down, you saw the duct tape line and jumped over to Enid’s side.

“Oh, Dios mío. Cómo puede una persona ser tan perfecta?” You asked aloud and Wednesday turned to you as you blushed.

Her eyebrow was raised slightly as she looked on through her eyelashes. “di algo así otra vez, y perderás la lengua.” Her words were so smooth and calm, you almost forgot that she was threatening you.

You held back a smile at her glare and bounced over to Enid’s bed. The floorboards screeched in pain that went ignored by the people in the room as you sat on the brightly coloured bed. Enid rolled her eyes at the look on your face and sat next to you. She dared you to say what was on your mind.

You shook your head and she nodded, pleased. You began spending more time in Enid’s dorm and less in Yoko’s. And Wednesday was already sick of you by the second week at Nevermore, but you didn’t let that get you down.

2.

The second time you shamelessly flirted with Wednesday was during the Poe Cup. Or after, really. Wednesday had been coerced onto the team by Enid after Bianca poisoned Yoko with Garlic. Your team had won and Wednesday, you, Enid and the fourth person - one of Enid’s other friends - stood on the stairs as Headmistress Weems handed Enid the trophy. The celebration of the Black Cats beating the Sirens (really just anyone beating the sirens for the first time in years) had everyone but Bianca cheering.

Wednesday went back to her dorm and you followed her. When you got there, you leaned on the doorframe. “You should wear the suit more often, Cat-Woman.” You said as Wednesday sat down at her desk.

“Cat-Woman is chaotic good; I’m neutral evil.” Wednesday muttered mindlessly, clicking away on her typewriter.

You shrugged and made your way to her desk. You jumped onto an empty space and began swinging your legs near Wednesday as it took everything within her not to rip you apart. Limb. By. Limb.

You went to pick up a sheet of paper from the desk, but that idea was quickly shot down when Wednesday slapped your hand away. “Touch them again and you’ll lose your hands.”

“Wednesday, all this threatening is making me feel some way.” You shifted on the desk before jumping off and gaining Wednesday attention.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“My dorm… Unless you want me to stay.” You smirked.

“Don’t flatter yourself, y/n.” Wednesday said emotionlessly, as always. “Enid will want to celebrate with you, so you should probably stay, though.” She then muttered, turning away from you so that you couldn’t see her face.

You shrugged and nodded, walking over to Enid’s bed and just watching Wednesday in a comfortable silence until your friend came.

3.

The next time you were all eating lunch. Wednesday had decided to eat with you for the first time since she’d been at Nevermore. It had only taken her two and a half months. Much to both of your luck, the only free seat by the time she had gotten there was next to you and opposite Enid.

Wednesday didn’t make a sound as she sat down next to you. You opened your mouth, but Wednesday held her hand up, stopped you. “Don’t say a word.”

“Not even if it’s to say how ravishing you look in that jumper?” You asked with a small smirk.

Enid cleared her throat, making you and look away from each other and to the blonde. “What have i told you about flirting with my friends?” Enid scolded you as you dropped your head.

“You told me not to.” You mumbled. “But can you blame me? Look at her.” Wednesday whacked your hand away when you motioned to her.

“Honestly, y/n, go touch some grass.” Yoko called out from the other side of the table, rolling her eyes.

“Te sugiero que cuides tu boca.” Wednesday said.

You smirked. “Eres inexplicablemente caliente cuando estás enojado.”

“Don’t make me regret eating with you.”

4.

The fourth time was also an accident, much like the first time. You were lying on Wednesday’s bed (it was shocking that she hadn’t tried to stab you the moment you crossed over the line, I know), scrolling through your camera roll when a picture you’d taken without her knowledge.

You smiled at it. Nothing could ruin this feeling of serenity. Nothing but Wednesday lying next to you. Actually, no. She didn’t ruin it. She made it better. “You’re so pretty, Wednesday.” The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them and your cheeks warmed up quickly. “I’m sorry.” You said quickly, looking away from her.

“Thank you.” Wednesday murmured, pushing her back against the bed frame. You widened your eyes. “Don’t make me take it back.”

5.

The last time you’d flirted with Wednesday was after she’d defeated Joseph Crackstone. After being all bloody and bruised, you pushed your way through the crowd to look for her. “Enid, where’s Wednesday?” You asked the blonde hurriedly, eyes darting around.

“y/n? What happened?” Enid asked, looking at you, searching for any extensive wounds.

“Most of it’s Tyler.” You whimpered, hugging yourself.

The chittering of the Outcasts suddenly died down and everyone turned to the gate where Wednesday walked out. You sighed in relief before running towards her. In that moment it was just the two of you. She winced as your body collided with hers in a hug and furrowed eyebrows before pushing you away.

“Fancy seeing you here, gorgeous, huh?” You mumbled.

The one time Wednesday flirted back, you got a mere: “You look good covered in blood.” She had joked. The look on her face was still deadpan as she once-overed your body for any lethal wounds. “Are you okay?” You nodded. Wednesday’s lips quivered as she pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

You sobbed into her shoulder. The thought of nearly losing her to Tyler still fresh in your mind as your own shoulders shook. Wednesday held you tight. Seeing you wolf out to save her and almost get killed by Tyler was the last thing on her mind. Sure, she couldn’t stand physical contact, but having you in her arms was what she had longed for since she first heard the words you muttered on her second day at Nevermore.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x you #wednesday netflix #wednesday tim burton #wednesday the series #wednesday tv show #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #Wednesday #wednesday x y/n #Wednesday Addams x y/n #enid sinclair x reader #Enid sinclair x platonic!reader #wednesday 2022 #yokovina #Yoko #yoko tanaka #wednesday characters x reader #wednesday addams angst #wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday addams fluff #wednesday fluff #wednesday fanfic #Wednesday angst #elijah writes

[aeternallis]

Colin's jealousy just hits so well for me this season because unlike Simon and Anthony's jealousy (which mostly comes from male ego and physical lust), Colin's jealousy is born from something much deeper, beyond the surface-level, primitive instinct of seeing he has competition. That's not to say some of that isn't influencing Colin's actions, it most certainly is, but it's not the main force driving his emotions.

His jealousy doesn't come from out of nowhere, yknow?

His jealousy is born from shared history with one of the few genuine relationships in his life that he holds close to his heart, an unconscious, albeit cherished understanding that Penelope is a constant in his life. It's born from the slow, painful realization that he had lost her without even knowing it (further shaking his already flimsy resolve to try and fit into society's standards of being a typical rake), and whilst making a genuine effort to earn her good graces back, unwisely set himself up to lose her again.

Whereas Simon and Anthony's jealousy is superficial (and logically speaking, doesn't make much sense and only speaks to their self-entitlement due to their positions in society), Colin's jealousy is a humbling experience for him, which lends itself to his growth as a character and as a man. It's no wonder he'd described it as "a feeling that is like torture, but something he cannot, will not, does not want to give up."

Can y'all imagine Simon and Anthony having the same sentiment as that without it coming off as OOC? Simon was determined not to continue his family line and Anthony couldn't let go of his pride and obligations, pursuing Edwina until the latter had to set her foot down akjhdjsvbd If they had had any choice in the matter, both of them would have done their utmost to not have to feel anything towards their love interests pre-marriage. (Colin too made an attempt with that second brothel scene, but let's be real, it was half-assed at best)

Colin wants Penelope so much to the point he'd fully embraced even the torture of wanting her. And honestly? That's so damn refreshing to see, considering the typical romantic leads we usually see on television are trying to repress their emotions, not embrace it.

Colin yearns and wants, and he wants unashamedly. He's not jealous of Lord Debling; it's less about Lord Debling himself and the superb qualities he has that makes him an eligible gentleman specifically for Penelope and her circumstances, and more about being threatened by the concept of any other individual having the chance to establish that same emotional connection he has with Pen, and the possibility of that growing into something even more.

For all his kindness, Colin is actually quite possessive of that special connection he has with Penelope, and for a man who's already at odds and ends with his purpose in life and who he is in the grand scheme of the ton, understandably so.

It's why I knew in my gut during my first watch-through of s3 part 1 that although Colin had offered to help Pen find a husband by teaching her how to seduce men, he had never actually set out for it to be a successful endeavor. Lol If anything, it was just an excuse to be able to spend time with her. He had, albeit subconsciously, probably pictured the entire exercise to be something more along the lines of the incident with Lord Basilio, i.e. joking/gossiping w/ Pen about her prospective suitors and how unsuitable they are for her.

It's why Colin's excuses regarding Lord Debling about being a bad marriage prospect for Penelope sound so damn weak, his best reasoning being that he's "too particular."

For Colin, no man was ever going to be good enough for Penelope if it wasn't himself.

#bridgerton #polin #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin x penelope #colin's brand of unhinge is on an entirely new level in terms of bridgerton's history with unhinged male love interests

[holllandtrash]

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 7)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 7 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

the lead up to the silverstone race is treacherous, painful and downright confusing, and you're not referring to the weather. you find yourself being pulled in different directions and just when you think you've figured it out, your path leads you right back to where you started in the first place

word count: 6.9k tags/warnings: just a lot of angst im sorry

Usually, when you attended the races, you were there all weekend. From Friday morning till the end of the podium ceremony on Sunday. But for Silverstone, you were dreading walking into that track and seeing Charles so you pushed back your travel plans and decided to only go for the race.

Lando ordered a car for you to take to the hotel Saturday night, something that he really didn’t have to do but he insisted on it and you were starting to figure out which battles to pick with him. This was not one of them. 

He had to be at the hotel with his team Wednesday night, so you really didn’t get to spend too much time with him after the shoot with Quadrant. 

Which, honestly, you were okay with. You needed to pack as you were heading straight back to Monaco the following Monday with Charles and Arthur. You weren’t looking forward to that plane ride. If you were lucky, Charles would have a good weekend and he wouldn’t bring up Lando.

But the second the car pulled up to the hotel, a few drops of rain hit the windshield. The driver made a comment about how conditions would only get worse for tomorrow and you so desperately wanted to ignore the possibility of a wet race, however that seemed to be what everyone was talking about in the lobby.

You picked up your room key and texted both Lando and Charles that you arrived. Lando texted you back immediately saying he was in a briefing with his team but that he’d stop by your room after and Charles, without any context, sent you '1125'. His room number.

You dropped your luggage off, but didn’t give yourself any time to settle in before heading up the few levels to floor 11. Charles didn’t have to say anything other than his room number, you got the hint. He needed to talk to you. 

The door swung open as soon as you knocked. 

“Look I don’t want to fight,” you started off, already sounding defensive as you followed Charles into the hotel room. 

“I don’t want to fight either,” Charles agreed with you, opening up the mini fridge to pull out a bottle of water. “I just want to know what’s going on in your head, Y/N. What are you doing getting involved with a driver?”

“Lando’s just a friend,” but even you didn’t believe your own words. 

Charles gave you a look, one that told you he saw right through your bullshit and you pulled your fingers through your hair, needing a way out of this that didn’t paint you or Lando as the bad guy. 

“Okay fine,” you shrugged helplessly. “I like him, I think. Is that what you want me to say? It’s not as though I’m dating him and even if I was, what’s the big deal?”

You probably didn’t need to add that last question. It was just an open invitation for Charles to tell you everything that was weighing heavy on his mind.

“This is a dangerous sport, Y/N, but this is what all of us drivers have signed up for.” Charles started off with what you already knew before hitting you where it would hurt. “We know the risks when we get in the cars, but we don’t have to think about anything besides what’s on the track…” his pause was deafening. “But if you started dating him, that’s an entirely new element that’s now being introduced to the race.”

You scoffed, “No it’s-”

Charles held up his hand. “Listen to me, Y/N. You would be on the back of my mind if I’m ever even near him on the track. And you’ll always be on his. He might stop pulling risky moves, knowing that if anything happened to him, it would destroy you and not only that, there would be no more racing between us because subconsciously, you’ll be in the cars with us, telling us not to fight, not to put our lives at even more risk.” 

He reasons for you not wanting to date a driver lined up with yours, but he was able to offer it from the perspective behind the wheel.

“It’s the same reason why I’m terrified for Arthur to ever move up to F1,” Charles further explained. “I would jeopardise my own race for him, for his safety. I would do anything to protect him and I would do anything to protect you. If you started dating Lando, then that need to look after you, automatically extends to him.”

You felt sick. You needed to lean against the wall behind you, feeling your legs grow numb. The worry in Charles’ eyes assured you that he was no longer upset or mad about you going behind his back to hang out with Lando, he was now concerned for what lay ahead. 

“I love you and I want you to be happy, I want nothing more than for you to find a partner to be happy with,” Charles rubbed his hand over his face as he shook his head. This was as painful for him to get out as it was for you to hear. “But selfishly, I don’t want you to put your happiness in another driver.”

There really wasn’t anything for you to say. Charles had every right to be selfish. This was his career, his life. You weren’t supposed to be any more intertwined in it than you already were. 

You pushed yourself off the wall, ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach as you turned to walk towards the door. 

Charles tried to follow, “Y/N, I didn’t mean-”

You held up a hand towards him as you turned and forced a smile on your face. You really didn’t want to fight. You loved your brother, you wanted to respect what he was asking. He had given you so much. Because of him, you had dozens upon dozens of opportunities and met the most incredible people. 

You could give up this thing with Lando, whatever it was. And better you did it now before it became too hard to walk away.

“You should get some sleep” you told Charles, your voice almost caught in your throat. “I’ll, um, I’ll see you in the morning.”

You left his room without another word. The elevator ride back to your floor was slow, treacherous even as you thought about what sort of conversation you needed to have with Lando. 

You’d wait till after the race. It wouldn’t do anyone any favours to call this whole thing off right before his home race. The least you could do was wait until after to break his heart. 

But then the elevator opened and you saw the driver who had taken up all of your thoughts leaning against your hotel room door. He put his phone away when he looked up and spotted you. His smile broke you. For so long you wanted to be the reason for it and now you were going to be the cause of why it would disappear. 

“How was the drive?” Lando asked, stepping out of the way for you to unlock the door. “It’s starting to rain, hey? The team thinks it’ll be pretty bad for most of the race tomorrow but what’s Silverstone without a little-”

“Lando,” you cut him off promptly, turning the handle to push the door open. You met his eyes for a second before you had to look away, before he could catch on that something was wrong. “Look, I’m really tired, I just want to go to sleep, I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” Lando was a little taken aback, but he didn’t try to talk you into staying up. He reached forward and gave your hand a squeeze, “Okay, yeah, get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

All you wanted to do was pull him into your hotel room and spend the next few hours with him until he had to leave to go to bed. Even then, you’d probably be able to convince him to just spend the night with you. 

But you couldn’t do that. The most you could do was offer up a sliver of a smile before walking into the room and letting the door shut behind you. 

Suddenly, a wet race for tomorrow seemed like the least of your worries.

You arrived at Silverstone with Charles. He had tried to talk to you all morning and it wasn’t as though you were mad at him, you were just frustrated with the position he had put you in.

It didn’t help that the second you scanned your badge and stepped past the gates, you felt the first raindrop of the day hit your cheek. You looked up, and even with the dark shades on, it was impossible to miss the incoming storm clouds.

“Wet race today, hey?” 

You turned over your shoulder to see Pierre scanning his badge as well. The two of you hadn’t spoken at all since your conversation in Montreal. You asked yourself why you even stopped walking to wait for him, especially since Charles had gone off ahead to get out of the rain.

“Still giving me the cold shoulder?” Pierre asked as he approached you. The two of you started walking down the paddock, thankfully the Ferrari motorhome was close.

“Still telling everyone we slept together?” You retorted and Pierre dipped his head back and laughed.

“Chérie, I told like four, maybe five people,” Pierre tried to play it off, but when he saw you weren’t about to give him the time of day, he grabbed your hand and forced you to stop walking. “Come on, we’re friends. Don’t cut me off like this.”

“No, you and Charles are friends,” you hastily pulled your hand away from his grasp. “I’m just someone who got caught up in the moment.”

It blew your mind how cocky Pierre could be sometimes. It almost made you want to tell Charles what happened just because you knew it would cause a fight between them. Maybe Pierre would second guess his actions if he was getting yelled at by his best friend.

And that way, Charles would have something else on his mind besides you and Lando. If anything bad happened on the track, not like you want something to happen, he could blame it on finding out about Pierre and you. Surely learning that his closest friend and sister slept together was much worse than whatever this fling was that you currently had with Lando.

Speaking of Lando…

You hadn’t even seen him walk through the gates. Your frustration, and therefore your attention, was solely on Pierre. It wasn’t until the bright orange hoodie became impossible to ignore that you pulled your eyes away from the French driver.

Recently when you looked at Lando, you felt a swarm of butterflies attack your stomach. 

Those butterflies were still there, but it was as if they were now trying to claw their way out of your stomach, fighting each other and making you suffer the consequences. 

You didn’t want to end things. 

You wanted to meet him halfway as he approached you and collapse in his arms, who cares who saw? You wanted to kiss him without a time limit and wish him good luck today. You wanted to hang out in the fucking McLaren motorhome which is something you never thought you’d ever find yourself wishing for.

“Little gloomy today, huh?” Lando asked, sounding a lot chipper than how you or Pierre looked.

You glanced up, as did Pierre and you shrugged. The less you spoke now, the easier it would be to end things later.

“It’s not too bad yet,” Pierre pointed out.

“Oh I was talking about Y/N’s outfit,” Lando joked, nudging your arm with his elbow. “What’s with the all bla- are you okay?” Lando's smile dropped and his tone did a 180 the second he noticed you weren’t in the mood for one of his jokes. He glanced between you and Pierre and not so subtly raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t do anything this time!” Pierre announced, hands held up beside his head in defence as he started to walk away. “Paddock Princess over here was in a bad mood before I said anything.”

You watched him head off for a second before your attention went back to Lando. You tried to dodge his hand when he reached for your sunglasses but he was too quick, pulling them right off your face. 

“You’ve been crying.” 

“You should get inside before it really starts to rain.”

“Look either we keep stating the obvious or we talk about what’s going on,” Lando demanded, not giving you any other option. There was no lighthearted tone any more, no more playful attitude like he usually had when he saw you in the Paddock. 

More people started to walk through the gates, people that were going to want Lando’s attention if he didn’t keep walking, you both knew this. 

“Can we not have this conversation right here?” You asked him, lowering your voice as you nervously glanced around. Ideally, you wouldn’t even be having this conversation. 

And in a strange twist of fate, you got what you wanted.

Lando could see right through you, he saw the hesitation just from your stance alone. The guilt in your eyes was clear even if they were slightly puffy and bloodshot. They way you refused to hold eye contact for more than a few seconds told him that something heavy weighed on your shoulders, something heavy enough to take out the both of you. 

And Lando didn’t want to have this conversation either.

He might not have known exactly what was on your mind, but he didn’t need to ask anything to know it wasn’t good. That and how quick you were to turn him away last night, it was all starting to add up. No words needed to be spoken.

He handed your sunglasses back to you and nodded slightly, like he was accepting the outcome of this, like he knew he couldn’t change your mind, so why bother trying? He walked right past you without saying anything, but that’s what you wanted right? 

No conversation was easier than laying it all out on the table. It was easier to accept the reality as it was than to hear yourself say the words ‘we can’t be together’. 

You slid the sunglasses back on your face and waited a few seconds before heading towards Ferrari, making sure to stay on the opposite side of the paddock. Neither one of you so much as glanced at the other. You heard his name being called before you walked up the bright red steps and the moment you entered the motorhome, you let out the heaviest exhale that had been pressing against your chest. 

Was it even reasonable for you to be reacting like this? You weren’t even dating.

But you were throwing away the possibility of something great, all because you knew you had to put Charles first. 

He was the first person you saw when you walked inside and gathered your bearings. He was in the middle of a conversation with his assistant when you grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

“I hope you’re happy,” you spoke through a bitter laugh. “Me and Lando are done.”

He seemed confused, but when his features softened after a moment, you could tell that he was in fact pleased to hear this news.

“Good,” Charles nodded. “You shouldn’t date a driver anyway.”

“No you shouldn’t have this much say over my life, Charles,” you rubbed your hands over your face, letting what was once sorrow turn to anger. “It’s not fucking fair.”

“It’s not fair?” He raised his voice as well, neither of you caring about the handful of people that were nearby. “I put my life at risk every weekend, the least you could do is not give me something else to think about when I get in the car!”

“You don’t have to think about anything other than the points, don't worry.” You assured him. The venomous tone was impossible to miss. “And good luck today. Hopefully my heartbreak doesn’t ruin your race for you.”

Charles groaned, rolling his eyes at how dramatic he thought you were being, “Y/N-”

“Oh, no, wait, you only give a shit about my feelings when I start caring about a driver other than you, right?” You patted his shoulder, a bit of force behind it as you sucked in a sharp breath. “Brother of the year, over here.”

You walked past him and he was smart by not trying to talk to you, instead choosing to go up to his drivers room. You sat down on the couch in the hospitality lounge, lips pursed together tightly as the sound of raindrops hitting the window behind you started to grow loud enough to drown out your own thoughts.

You would have loved nothing more than for the race to start, to stand in the back of the garage and flip Charles off before he slid his helmet on. You wanted to flirt with Carlos right in front of your brother before he was inevitably dragged away. You wanted to watch the race and cheer Lando on for a change. You wanted to do anything and everything that would purposely get under his skin.

But things never seemed to work out in your favour. 

It was announced the race was postponed due to the oncoming storm and you stayed right there on that couch, watching everyone else scurry around to figure out the new game plan for the day.

Charles' assistant tried talking to you at one point, but you just shook your head. She got the hint and turned right around.

You weren’t in the mood to talk to anyone in the motorhome, that was pretty obvious. If the all black outfit wasn’t enough to deter people away already, your constant crossed arms and the fact that you wore sunglasses inside sure had people second guessing whether or not they wanted to approach you during the wait.

A couple hours went by and you received a few curious looks, but the only person who didn’t give a single fuck that you were purposely trying to look reclusive, was Carlos. 

He dropped down on the couch beside you, arm stretched on the back of the couch behind your shoulders as he playfully twisted the end of your ponytail around his fingers.

You yanked your hair out of his hand, “What do you want, Carlos?”

“Why are you in a bad mood?” He was straight to the point, you liked that about your friendship. There wasn’t any bullshit.

“I’m not,” okay maybe there was a little bullshit.

“Okay,” Carlos nodded, going right back to playing with your hair, “Why is Charles in a bad mood?”

“I don't know, it’s not my problem.”

“I think it is, hermosa,” Carlos snickered, “I think you two are each other's problems.”

“Fine, you know what,” you turned on the couch to face him. Carlos was a bit taken aback to see you give in and talk so easily, “Charles’ problem is that he thinks my life affects his and my problem is that I care too much about what Charles thinks. Do you see how this is a bad cycle for us to be in?”

Carlos paused. You could tell by the way his jaw tensed he was trying to figure out what to say, but you were purposely vague and the more time that passed with you just staring at the Ferrari driver, the more it sank in for both of you that he probably couldn’t help you.

“Is this about Lando?” Carlos eventually asked. “And how about how you two have been getting close recently?”

You inhaled a sharp breath, “This is about me practically being forced to put Charles first.”

“As opposed to…”

“Putting myself first.”

Carlos raised his eyebrows. Everything you said was just adding to the confusion and you eventually just gave up trying to keep it bottled in.

You repeated what Charles had told you last night. You told Carlos about the added risks Charles had if you started dating a driver, you shared the concerns and how guilty you felt for wanting to see things through with Lando when you knew you owed it to Charles to call things off. You expressed that you were upset and angry and broken and confused at the same time, which shouldn't have been possible.

“He told me he didn’t want me to put my happiness in a driver,” you rested your elbow on the couch, cheek to palm as you tried to ignore the pain of Charles’ words for the second time in less than 12 hours.

Carlos didn’t say anything for a few seconds. And then those seconds turned into a minute. And then that minute turned into three and you had to hit his arm to get him to look at you, worried that he had been thinking too hard and accidentally zoned out.

“Carlos,” your eyebrows furrowed together, “Say something.”

He opened his mouth, only to close it once again. You rubbed your hand over your face, wondering why you decided an F1 driver would make a good therapist. 

“I just-” Carlos couldn’t get the words out. “I don’t get it, is all. When we get in the car, we know that nothing else matters except the race. Charles doesn’t have the right to pull you into the car with him, metaphorically of course. If he does that and messes up his race, that’s his own fault.”

You wished that was the case, but Charles didn’t see it like that. 

“Okay, let’s say you were dating a driver, Lando, for example” Carlos started off, dragging his fingers over his lower lip. “Charles is the one who needs to learn how to separate it. He needs to learn when it’s time to see Lando as the competition and when to see Lando as the person who makes you happy.” Carlos dropped his hand to your leg, “That isn’t on you. That’s on him.”

“But it’s just going to make his life difficult and I don’t want that for him.”

“Charles is a grown man I think he can figure it out,” Carlos’s assuring smile spread across his face. “Plus with the amount of gossip that goes on in the paddock, I don’t get why this, your happiness, is what he’s choosing to make you feel guilty for.”

You nodded in agreement before Carlos’ words actually hit you. 

“Wait,” you pointed a finger at him. “What gossip?”

Carlos instantly knew he messed up, “I didn’t-”

“What. Gossip.”

But his silence said it all. This fucking Pierre bullshit was coming back to haunt you again. You dropped your hands to your face and let out a muffled scream. There were a handful of people who were nearby who gave you a look of concern, but none of them mattered.

When you looked at Carlos again, his face had gone red. 

“So you know and Charles knows?” You asked. “About me and Pierre?”

“Well he doesn’t-” he shrugged. “Charles has an idea but he’s not going to ask you or Pierre about it. He can pretend it didn’t happen if you never confirm it.”

“But he knows,” you clarified. It wasn’t your fault that Charles just wouldn’t accept the reality of what happened. “He knows and yet somehow, that doesn’t affect him on the track? He can race Pierre like normal but the second I’m actually happy with someone, it’s game over?”

Again, Carlos didn’t know how to respond and this time, you weren’t sticking around and waiting for him to. You stood up from the couch and walked up the stairs of the motorhome, knowing your brother was in his driver's room. Carlos was hot on your heels, probably regretting having dug this past up because whether he liked it or not, he was now caught in the middle of it.

You didn’t even knock on Charles’ door, you just swung it open. Charles was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone, half dressed for the upcoming race. His fireproof long sleeve was on but his drivers’ suit was hanging around his hips. He looked up at you, confused as to why you just barged in.

You just blurted it out.

“J'ai baisé Pierre.” I fucked Pierre.

Charles’ mouth dropped.

You repeat yourself, in English this time. “I had sex with Pierre.”

He stood up, looking at Carlos behind you for help, but Carlos was just as stunned as he was.

Finally, you said it in Italian, just to get the message across loud and clear. “Ho dormito con il tuo migliore amico." I slept with your best friend.

Charles was speechless. He tried to sputter out the word ‘what’ but he had no voice. He just kept shaking his head, as if that would do anything.

“And-” you decided to keep going. Everything was already up in flames so why not keep feeding the fire, right?

You turned and grabbed Carlos’ shirt to pull him towards you. Before he had time to react, you pressed your lips to his. For a second, you did panic about not knowing whether or not he would even consent to this but when you felt Carlos start to kiss you back after a few seconds, presumably forgetting his teammate and your brother was standing right in front of you, you figured it was fine.

You pulled back and looked at Charles, “-I just kissed your teammate.”

“What the fuck-”

“I like Lando,” you harshly cut him off.

This was the first time you were saying it without the word maybe in front or i think following it. This was also the first time you didn’t feel any sort of hesitation. It was freeing.

“I like him. And I don’t know how strong these feelings are, I don’t know if they’ll last, all I know is that he makes me so stupidly happy, and selfishly-” you used his word against him. “-I want to hold onto that for as long as I can.”

You felt Carlos tap your shoulder and you held up a finger towards him, indicating that this was not the time to dissect that kiss. 

Charles looked ready to strangle you. And Carlos, but mostly you. “Y/N why are you saying this? Why did you just kiss him?” He gestured to his teammate. “What the fuck is going on? I race today and you think it’s smart to drop all of this on me?”

“Charles, you seem to think that what happens in my life affects yours, more specifically affects what you do on the track and I don’t think that’s the case.” You took a step forward, keeping your voice as calm and reasonable as possible as you said what you should have told him last night. 

“Really, it’s just what you choose to do with the information that you’re given and now you know everything. Now there’s three drivers on the track you might see differently as opposed to one and I know you. I know you’re a strong enough driver, and strong enough mentally, to not let any of this get to you. If you want your emotions to get in the way when you’re in the car, that’s on you. That’s not on me.”

There was definitely an easier way to go about this conversation. You didn’t have to walk in announcing you had sex with his best friend and kissing Carlos probably wasn’t needed, but it all furthered your point.

“My life is intertwined with yours. It has been since I decided to accompany you to all of these races and yes, I will be your biggest supporter but I will also live my own life at the same time,” slowly but surely you could see Charles' shoulders drop as he started to untense. “You can’t blame my feelings for Lando if you have a shitty race, okay? You can’t blame me.”

You started to back up and Carlos stepped out of the way for you.

“Where the hell are you going now?” Charles asked.

“To fix things,” you waved off his concern and practically ran down the stairs and out the front doors of Ferrari.

You were sprinting as you made your way down the paddock. The rain was coming down hard now and your eyes were set on the McLaren motorhome. 

You probably looked insane. Running down the puddle-filled paddock in platform boots without an umbrella but in all honesty, this was probably the best time for a grand gesture. Everyone who worked for the media was finding shelter right now, you were in the clear.

You walked up the steps but someone from the team who had been standing outside under the awning stopped you before you could reach for the door. 

“I’m sorry, Ms. Leclerc, you can’t just go in there, not without an invitation,” he told you, obviously recognising you as being Charles’ sister. It made sense. You were, by association, with Ferrari.

“I need to talk to Lando,” you wiped at your eyes, pushing the wet strands of hair out of your face. You felt around for your phone but came up empty handed, figuring you must have left it back on the couch in Ferrari. “Please, two seconds. That’s all I need. Tell him I need to talk to him.”

He held up a finger and opened the door to head inside. You waited for a second but your clothes were soaking, your hair was sticking to your face and neck. Your make up was ruined and the rain was freezing cold, so obviously you walked inside as well.

A hush fell over the motorhome when the door shut behind you. Mostly because you stood out like a sore thumb. Everyone was wearing orange, you were the only one dressed in all black and you were the only one who looked like they just jumped into a pool with all of their clothes on. 

You smiled awkwardly, shoulders tightening as you pressed your back to the door. You were wondering who was going to say something first, who was going to kick you out, and surprisingly the one who spoke up was Oscar.

“For christ sakes get her a towel or something,” Oscar called out, standing up from the table he sat at. You mouthed a quick thank you to him.

You and Oscar had never exchanged a single word before, maybe a smile here or there, but you were truly appreciative that he acknowledged you as someone who just needed to dry off right now, not as someone who was associated with Ferrari. 

Someone who worked with Hospitality crossed the floor with a few clean dish towels, telling you it was all she had at the moment. You thanked her and then looked up at Oscar who was also making his way to you. 

“Hi,” you breathed out, ringing out your hair. “I know I shouldn’t be here-”

“Oh I don’t mind at all,” Oscar laughed. “I take it you’re here for Lando?”

You didn’t nod. You actually didn’t say anything, your mouth just fell open and you forgot how to breathe when you realised that Lando had most likely told his teammate about you.

“I might be,” you reluctantly answered. “I might also be here because I heard that you guys have the best espresso machine.”

“Espresso is a piss poor reason to venture outside during a storm.”

You chuckled, nodding in agreement as you wiped the cloth under your eyes. The amount of makeup that had transferred to the towel was horrendous. You didn’t even want to know what you looked like right now. 

“Is he-” you glanced towards the staircase behind him. Why was it so hard for you to finish your sentences? Why was Lando clouding every one of your thoughts to the point that you couldn’t get more than a few words out? Why did he affect you so much?

At that moment, the security from earlier started to descend the stairs. Instinctively, you stood closer to Oscar, trying to make it seem as though he was the one who invited you in.

“He’s busy,” was all the McLaren employee said.

“Bullshit he’s busy,” you spat, coming across much harsher than you intended to. “The race is postponed, he’s not doing anything!”

“He told me to tell you he’s busy.”

You looked at Oscar, it was obvious he felt a little awkward standing in the middle of the conversation, but he wanted to help. What was good for his teammate was ultimately good for the team and Oscar so desperately hoped you weren’t here with malicious intent. 

“You can hang out in my driver's room,” he offered, his lips curving upwards into a smile. Oscar turned to the security, “She’s my guest too, it’s fine.”

This employee knew Oscar was lying through his teeth and all three of you knew Oscar’s room was right next to Lando’s. But because you were given the go-ahead from a McLaren driver himself, he couldn’t do anything to prevent you from walking up the stairs, boots squeaking against the floor the entire way. 

Glancing over your shoulder, you shot Oscar a thankful smile and he gave you a thumbs up. Part of you felt horrible for never giving him the time of day before. Subconsciously, you saw him as the driver who replaced Daniel and held a bit of a personal vendetta, but it was clear he had a good heart. 

You waited until the security guard looked away before sneaking around the corner to where Lando’s room was located. You read his name on the plaque a few times and thought about knocking, but if he knew you were outside the door he wouldn’t open it. 

So you turned the handle and pushed the door open. Lando wasn’t even in his racing suit, opting for a pair of joggers and a hoodie as he waited for the race start to be announced. He was leaning against the massage bed and looked up from his phone, barely even acknowledging you before turning right back to his phone.

“I don’t really feel up to chatting right now,” Lando muttered.

“Fine then just listen,” you walked in and shut the door behind you. 

Your heart was pounding and you would have liked to blame your trembling on the fact that you were just standing in the rain but you knew it was because you were finally about to be honest with Lando.

“I think I made a mistake,” you stated. Lando didn’t look up, choosing to disregard your words. You couldn’t blame him. You went from barely being able to look at him a few hours ago to dramatically confessing your feelings. “I didn’t want to admit it before, but Lando I really- I like you.”

“Yeah you like a lot of things,” Lando was unamused as he scratched the side of his face. “You like chocolate cheesecake, you like daisies, you like Daniel’s merch-” he inhaled a sharp breath, still keeping his eyes on his phone. “You like speaking French over Italian, you like supporting the underdogs, you like that you have a presence in the Paddock.” This was taking a turn, “You don’t like driving, you like when someone understands your humour, you like putting your family first even if it means putting yourself last, you love cooking, you have a weird obsession with shitty movies.”

 Finally he looked up.

“You like when people compliment you but you never know how to respond. You like being needed but you don’t like needing someone. You don’t like the unknown which is why a relationship scares you, regardless of who it's with. You like leading me on because you don’t care about the consequences afterwards and I fall for every word you say, every hypothetical you tease, because I think that maybe this time, it’ll be different, and do you want to know why I know all of this? Why I've put up with all of it?” 

This seemed like a rhetorical question but you responded meekly anyway, “Why?”

Lando paused. He pushed himself away from the bench and walked towards you slowly. His jaw tightened, there was no trace of a smile. Even if what he had to say was good in nature, it was only going to destroy you. 

“Because I like you,” he said, sounding so sure of himself and simultaneously like he wanted to take back those words the second he said them. “But I’m not about to waste my time at this halfway point with you. There’s a line here and I’m willing to cross it, to meet you so far past the middle it to make this work, but I don’t think you can say the same. So until you decide, fully and completely, what you want…stop stringing me along.”

Lando had never been so serious before.

Your entire friendship, relationship, whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, was playful and fun and he was the reason why your jaw hurt from laughing. He was the person who wanted to take care of you, to make you smile and now he was so close to giving up on all of that, all because you were going to put Charles first.

You genuinely couldn’t blame him. You had been back and forth for weeks. It may not have clicked until now, but you had been leading him on. He had done so much for you and practically overnight, you were nearly ready to forget all of it.

There was a knock on the door. Neither of you made the move to answer it, instead letting whoever was on the other side inform Lando through the wall that it was time to change and head down to the garage. 

He was waiting for you to say something. He was waiting for you to tell him that you wanted him. And you knew you did, but why couldn’t you open your mouth? Why did your fears outweigh what was right in front of you? Why was it still so hard to let yourself be happy with Lando?

Lando nodded, accepting once again that no answer was probably better than the answer he didn’t want to hear. He gestured towards the handle of the door. Without saying a word, he was politely asking you to leave. 

And because you still couldn’t say anything, because you couldn’t meet him halfway, you left. You stepped out in the hallway, avoiding the eyes of nearby McLaren employees as you walked down the stairs. You passed Oscar before reaching the front doors and he gave you a hopeful look, curious if all was worked out between you and his teammate. 

You shook your head, still unable to find your voice. 

When you stepped outside, it was still raining but it had eased up. It was a light drizzle compared to the storm you ran through earlier. 

By the time you made it back to Ferrari, most people had already left to go to the pitlane and the garage.

An exception to that was Charles.

“Don’t,” you demanded. You didn’t want to hear anything from him, but he was clearly waiting for you. He didn’t comment on your rung out appearance or your smeared makeup. It wasn’t his place to, anyway. He just stood up and walked over to you, zipping up his racing suit in the process.

“I stand by what I said,” Charles declared and all you could do was roll your eyes as he continued. “You shouldn’t put your happiness in a driver.”

“And what if I already did?” You retorted, quite loudly. “What if I already did and I didn’t realise it until it was too late and now- and now I have nothing? What if I’m worse off now than I was before?”

For a split second, you could see it in his features. Charles was conflicted too. 

There was Formula 1 driver Charles Leclerc. The man fighting for championship winning points. The guy who risked his life every time he stepped into the cockpit of the car.

And then there was your older brother. The one who hated that he was the one who put you in this situation. Your brother, the one who said he wanted to keep you safe, was the sole reason there was a sense of vulnerability and emptiness looming over you. 

You didn’t feel those things because you had feelings for Lando. You felt those things because Charles made you feel guilty for supporting someone other than him. 

And even after everything, after you came to the realisation that you wanted Lando, after you dropped a bombshell on your brother, after you ran across the paddock for some stupid grand gesture, where did you find yourself?

Standing in front of Charles.

No wonder Lando had his doubts with you.

“I can’t be here,” you admitted, your chest feeling tight once again. “I can’t watch the race, I’m sorry.”

For once, Charles wasn’t going to stand in your way. He had done enough damage.

“Take the plane back to Monaco if you want, there’s a car that will take you the airport-”

“No, I’m not going to Monaco,” you shook your head. Monaco was the last place you wanted to go. You didn’t want to walk into your empty flat. There was nothing for you there.

There was nothing for you here either. You couldn't stand to look at Charles. Lando wasn't going to talk to you until you figured out what your intentions were but you couldn't figure it out if you were watching a race. You needed to leave.

And you needed to go to the one place that actually felt like home.

masterlist here

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[celestialtarot11]

Astro Observations 💘💌

• Jhené Aiko has a pisces stellium in her chart, no wonder she is ethereal, and carries spirituality as a huge part of her platform. I feel those with pisces in their big 3, or stellium could benefit from incorporating spiritual themes in their career/side hustle! Jhené has a wonderful way of connecting to her audience, and Pisces is very much in tune with the collectives energy. Pisces is dreamy & manifests easily due to their flowing nature! So pisces, ya’ll can greatly benefit from a spiritual side hustle to help grow yourselves 💅🏻🤍 I love jhené aiko 🤝

• She often talks about getting high in her songs which make so much sense. Pisces may use drugs, weed and alcohol as a way to escape. But when healing, they turn towards spirituality and themselves to face their shadows 🤗🫶 shadow world is incredibly important to all water signs to help settle their subconscious! And a way to open their heart so it can flow the way it’s meant to.

• Virgos when they were younger probably carried the most health issues ❤️‍🩹 virgo babies please take care of your health. I believe health issues are your bodies way of communicating strongly, it’ll tell you what needs to change in your life, and if what you’re pursuing is helping you/hurting you. Your body is strongly connected to the energies around you which is why it’s so in tune. Powerful 🤗💘 just like pisces.

• Saturn in the first have a way of finding comfort in their melancholy, they almost never want to leave. Especially if this native has cancer placements. Their past is their comfort and only source of predictability, thats why they stay the same, or it takes a long time to make inner changes. Even if their past was turbulent, they would rather be able to predict what happened, than to change and face the unknown ❤️‍🩹

• Libra venus are so sweet and definitely know how to talk your ear off in romance 💘🌸 golden retrievers for sure! All libra placements honestly ‼️

• Capricorn venus is very particular about who they date. Perfectionism is apart of their motive, which is unhealthy, but also they want someone who can equally help them and support them in their life. Lets be rocks together ‼️ kinda vibe lmao. Some capricorn venus’s want control to the point of not letting anyone in, it stems from fear of everything falling apart ❤️‍🩹

• 12th house synastry is truly unique. Every experience I’ve ever had is different, because it’s a water house. That kind of synastry will reflect exactly what needs healing in your subconscious, and in your heart. I’ve been in mature connections involving 12th house synastry, I saw how deeply spiritual it is & it has soulmate energy to it. Ive also been in connections that were turbulent, and fell apart because of the healing I needed to do. Now, of course other partners with 12th house synastry can have their own healing they were not committed to which also contributed! This is important to remember. Both partners need to heal and dedicate time to their shadow work to evolve, and move forward 🤝 12th house synastry is not bad, it is simply reflective of your innermost state when you meet that person. You are meeting yourself in another 🌸🌅

Thank ya’ll so much for reading 🤗🫶 this was cool to make again! I appreciate any likes reblogs and comments. Share to me what you think! 🙌🌸 see ya’ll around.

Distance Healing Services 💘💌

Paid Readings 🤝🤍

#devi post #astrology #tarotcommunity #divination #astrology community #tarot #tarot deck #witchcraft #tarot reading #astrology observations #astro posts #astrology notes #astro notes

[munariplans]

is there someone else? pt.2 | n. romanoff

synopsis: part 2 to is there someone else? , wherein reader navigates her feelings for both natasha and wanda, and ultimately makes a choice.

natasha romanoff x reader | slight wanda maximoff x reader

word count: 9.6k words

read part 1 and part 3 here.

masterlist

“are you happy?” lately, those words came out a lot from the people around you. steve asking you about your relationship with natasha the night she had not only disobeyed your orders on a mission, but also berated you in front of the others. wanda asking if you were really going to stay with natasha long-term in the quinjet home from the night she almost kissed you. and now, natasha asking if you were happy about her pregnancy. 

you had shrugged to steve then, clutching your bleeding side and letting the medical bay doctors examine your wound, using the excuse of the injury to shrug him off. as happy as i can be, you said. 

for wanda, you had only shook your head, honestly replying that you weren’t, and you knew natasha wasn’t either, but you were too scared to ask for a divorce and she was still willing to try for something you wanted to give up at. and then, you had to reinforce that you still couldn’t start anything new with wanda, bitterly.

Now, with Natasha in your lap and her hands cradling your jaw, years of vulnerability, insecurity, and anxiousness built up into the reflection behind her eyes, you found it hard to say anything at all. Pregnancy was supposed to be something the both of you had wanted; for nearly a year now, and you couldn’t believe that your relationship had soured to a point where the woman you loved was afraid of your reaction to finally getting what you wanted. You felt terrible.

You evaded Natasha’s question entirely. All you could reply with was, “How many weeks?”

She noticed, but as you readjusted her on your lap, relieving the weight off of your injured ribs; she could only smile sadly. “I just found out on our anniversary, while you were away. Probably two, three weeks?”

“Okay.” Natasha watched you nod. This was the first time in weeks she had had her body pressed up against yours, holding onto your embrace and having your arms around her, and she was so afraid the moment was going to be gone so soon. 

“So does that mean…” she searched your eyes, “...We’re okay? We’re back together…?”

You broke eye contact, staring off into space for a while. The almost-kiss, the relief you felt when you thought Natasha was going to end things, the life you imagined with someone else. It was almost as if you could physically feel all of it; love and control, slipping away from you. 

You contemplated telling Natasha of Wanda’s feelings. But then everything else, the repercussions, the anguish, the what-ifs, would just be too much; and you know the woman was hoping for a positive reaction from you. You would keep Wanda’s secret, and safety, from your wife, for as long as you could in exchange for the possibility of happiness you could still share with Natasha. 

In response, you brought her in for a kiss, smiling as best as you could to alleviate her worries. “Of course. For the baby, and for the woman I love, of course.”

Natasha giggled in happiness, bringing your hand to rest along her tummy, and your heart squeezed with guilt at the joy written all over her face.

–

“Is this your first time?” Natasha’s gynaecologist asked, staring you up and down while your wife changed back from her hospital gown. You felt the scrutiny under her stare, and subconsciously straightened your posture. 

Nodding, you were aware your arms were crossed in defence of yourself. She turned around as Natasha reappeared to ask you for help with her zipper, and when you came back out, she nonchalantly passed the comment of, “You don’t look too happy about it.”

Your heart sank, trying to laugh off the hurt with, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged, pointing her clipboard to the direction of Natasha’s changing room. “That woman in there is a medical miracle. To be able to get pregnant under her circumstances, and considering she isn’t so young, I just thought…you would be more ecstatic.”

“You a shrink before becoming a gynaecologist, doctor?”

“Please,” she laughed, “Psychology is the furthest thing I wanted to touch in medical school. I just deduced from the happiness on her face, and the lack thereof, on yours. But what do I know, right? I’m just your doctor.”

“Right.”

The both of you watched as Natasha came out, and while she thanked the nurses and prepared to leave, the doctor leaned in to you again. “Is there anything I should know, ma’am? I’m only looking out for the mother and baby, and I’m working for their best interests, not mine or yours.”

You gave her a weird look, and a non-commital grunt as you signed the papers, but she was strangely perceptive. “If there’s someone else out there, someone waiting for you that is not her, as I have seen with many other partners before, I always suggest for you to end it. For the sake of both of them now, not just her.”

You found yourself hovering over Wanda’s contact on the drive home, the urge to call her almost instinctual. 

– 

After the doctor’s appointment, you had cooked Natasha lunch; with her choosing to pack and eat it out in the field, where the others were having a Sports Day. She was content enough just watching them, but out of the corner of her eye, she could spot you hunched over, elbows on your knees, a slight resigned look of misery on your face. To any other person, it could have just looked like you were bored, or tired, but Natasha had been seeing those expressions so frequently lately; she had deduced what they meant herself. Those expressions only came up when you were longing to spend time with anyone but her. 

“You can still join them, you know?” Natasha chimed in, “I’m sure Peter wouldn’t mind you subbing in for him. Kid looks exhausted.”

She remembered all the times she held you back; the life you had chosen to stay with her, instead of the life you could have had if you hadn’t married her. Even before the strain in your marriage, before her insecurities with Wanda entered the picture, Natasha often struggled to accept the fact that you chose her, out of everyone and everything. 

Giving up a promotion as Head of the new STRIKE team because it would relocate you to somewhere in the mountains of Switzerland, being the one to hold Clint’s arrow back from that one faithful mission, even standing up to Fury and the rest of the executive directors who held a shadow of a doubt towards her loyalty when she had run off after the events of what Tony called Civil War; she found it hard to imagine anyone else willing to do a shred of those things for her. 

“I hardly know the game standings by now.” You said, rubbing your eyes from exhaustion. “There’s no point.” 

Natasha wanted to protest, but your hand reached out to hers, albeit in an attempt to comfort her and to ask her to not fight you on it, but your touch felt cold and foreign. Then, it was when she noticed who your eyes had been on for the whole game. 

She wondered if you would have been happier if you hadn’t been with her at all. If you had been there, playing the game against Wanda, celebrating your team’s win with and for her. Instead, here you were, right beside her, eyes tired from staying up all night to help her through her bouts of nausea, making warm drinks and small snacks for her to still nourish herself, staying back from the Sports Day you were so looking forward to for the past few weeks just to accompany her to the doctor’s. She wondered if the small scan she was planning to put up by her bedside, and you planned to keep in your wallet, even gave you the same amount of joy it gave her. 

When she had finished her meal, she noticed you hadn't even touched yours. 

– 

“Just go for it.”

“No. I’m staying.”

“Please go,” Natasha begged, already having her hands around your shoulders, trying to get you to get up from the bed. “I already have your dress picked out for you, you just have to get dressed and head down.”

You groaned, playfully digging your head deeper into the pillow as Natasha tried to lift you up. For a pregnant woman, albeit still in her early days of her first trimester, she was much stronger than you thought she was. As she pulled you into a sitting position, you laid your head against her midriff, arms around her waist. 

“I’ll be fine here alone, you know,” she assured, but you shook your head against her body. 

“No. What if another Ultron-esque invasion happens again? And I won’t be here to protect you?” 

Natasha chuckled, threading her fingers through your hair. “I can protect myself. Have you forgotten I was an assassin and double agent? Besides, we have Vision now, too. All thanks to Ultron.”

You looked up to her, doubt still clouding your features, but Natasha was adamant. “Go. How many parties have you missed because of me? Just because I’ve been advised not to have too much fun doesn’t mean you have to as well. Do it for me, please?”

She smiled when you finally stood up, giving the black halter gown a second look. 

–

“Have fun,” she said, giving you a peck on the cheek. The sentence had only been half-truthful. 

I love you too much to keep you shackled here with me; but I sincerely hope that you don’t find someone else who will make you realise you deserve better tonight. 

She watched you go, Clint sticking by your side and turning around as you both entered the lift, giving her a sympathetic look. He knew all too well of her feelings tonight; and had promised to look out for you too Natasha knew it was the hormones; but it hurt her so much to watch you leave that it brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes she had tried to keep down for the night. 

–

You should have guessed that a party organised for Pepper’s birthday would involve Tony pulling all of the stops; falling short of nothing but Great Gatsby-esque glamour and celebrations. Twice a dancer had tried their hardest to pull you to the dance floor with them, sparkling champagne towers in hand and live jazz ensembles all around the venue. 

“Come on, you haven’t drank in months, you’re holding back now?!” An agent from your academy days, his name now fuzzy with the alcohol in your system, roared as he tipped back yet another shot of liquor into your mouth, the taste burning your throat. 

You pushed back his bottle, giving yourself time to regain your composure. “My wife’s not feeling so good, I can’t–go home drunk–”

“Nat’ll understand, don’t worry so much,” he raised to tip the bottle again, your world spinning now, but was abruptly pulled back. He yelped, falling back on the sofa. 

Suddenly, lithe arms were around your waist, pulling you away from the agent. In your drunken haze, you reached out to touch the face of who it was, but the person was already pulling you away, further and further from the loud lights and music. 

Fresh air hit your cheeks as the balcony door opened, and you finally recognised the shoes that had been dragging you throughout the party. 

“Wanda.”

“I’ve got you,” she helped you sit against the wall of the tiny space protruding from her own room, and closed the doors right after, “You’re safe with me.”

You grinned, remembering Natasha’s words earlier. “Have you forgotten I was an assassin and double agent?”

“You’re neither of those things when you’re wasted.” Wanda took the seat beside you, pressing her body against yours to ensure you didn’t fall over. You laughed against her shoulder, letting the stars in your vision fizzle out before you could see her again. 

Wanda smelled like cinnamon and flowers, the smell slowly becoming more and more familiar to you. She let you get your bearings together for a few minutes, before readjusting yourself to lean your head against the wall instead. Choosing not to speak, Wanda wanted to enjoy the first time in weeks the two of you had been alone. Ever since that mission; ever since that night. 

Finally, you sighed, breaking the silence and turning to her, your eyes glassy and red. “I had–have–feelings for you.”

She was about to reply, to say something along the lines of expressing her relief, or adoration, for you, when you put a hand up, continuing with, “But I cannot act on them, you and I know why. I’m not sure if what I feel for you is love, probably something close to it, but I know what I feel for Natasha. And I cannot have that with you.  Wanda, you have been here for me through one of the toughest few months of my life, and for it I am eternally grateful. But I also have a duty and responsibility as a wife for Natasha. Of course, you have shown me acceptance and love, butterflies and excitement for the future, I cannot deny that, but I cannot be what you want, what you need. And I refuse to string you along for the possibility of me leaving my wife, Wanda, you deserve so much better.”

Lowering your gaze to your lap, Wanda watched as you professed, “I’m sure you know Natasha and I have been trying for a baby for a while now.”

“Clint told me it’s been more than a year.” 

Nodding, you looked back up, steeling yourself. “Well, we’re finally successful. Natasha’s pregnant.” 

Wanda’s mouth fell into an O shape, half in realisation, half in surprise. The arm around your shoulders faltered, and you carefully let it drop back to her side. “Oh.” 

“I know you don’t know how to feel,” you spoke up, “And I don’t expect you to be happy for me, for us. But I am telling you this, now, because I am choosing…to be responsible. For the child, more than anything else. I love Natasha, and perhaps you too, but the child takes priority over my own feelings, my own heart. Natasha needs me now more than ever, and while it will take time, I’m sure, to repair or even go back to how we once were, I can’t abandon her, Wanda. I need to stay with Natasha.” 

Your hands were cold as you explained, desperately, to the woman before you. Never one to cry, you hated that there were tears in the back of your eyes this time, watching Wanda’s expression turn from shock, to disappointment, and finally, a brave front, smiling and nodding sadly at you. 

“I really am sorry; for perhaps leading you on, for making you feel things I shouldn’t have expressed. And I do treasure you, so very much, Wanda, but I cannot leave my wife, my marriage, and now my child too, for you.” 

But Wanda only reached out for your hand then, the warmth in her touch your final leap towards sobriety for the night. “I understand.” 

She saw your eyebrows furrow for a minute, before asking, “You do?”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, and the sinking of her heart, Wanda nodded. “I knew it was stupid anyway, my feelings for you. You were married, and while I have only admired you from afar all these years, wishing I could be her, having your kindness and bravery to come home to every night, I thought…I thought I had a chance. And when I saw just how badly Natasha was treating you, it sparked something in me too; I was angry and bitter, I knew you deserved better, but I realise that better is not me. It’s still her, and will always be her. You could have been my Romeo for all I cared, but at the end of the day, I always knew Natasha was your Juliet, no matter what.” 

Your hand squeezed over Wanda’s one, her confession of your unrequited love tugging at the guilt in your heartstrings. “To be fair, in another life, we could’ve really given this a shot. I think your love would’ve come back; in a different form, or different circumstances, and I would’ve been there to love you back. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Wanda laughed, a wet chortle that seemed much too joyful for her current state; red faced and tears streaming down her face, “Just that is enough, I think. Knowing you felt a fraction of what I did for you for years, the hope, the longing, of it all. I need to let you go, give up your ghost beside me, and while it isn’t going to be easy, I hope at least the process is kind.” 

“In another life.” She confirmed, letting you rub away the tear tracks on her cheeks, leaning in to press a kiss on them as the alcohol and your lips both burned the skin they landed on. “And I’m happy for you, truly. Congratulations to you and Natasha on the baby.” 

-

Hungover and the remnants of the previous night’s bash still pounding loudly in his head, Tony Stark was not looking forward to the meeting he had forgotten was organised the morning after Pepper’s party. He had wanted to only sit in, listen, glower at righteous Steve Rogers with no alcohol in his system explain the weekly objectives for the team, and head back. No holdups, no interferences. His head was killing him.

But as he entered through the double glass doors of the meeting room, the scene that greeted him only made his headache worse. 

Natasha was absolutely fuming; stood in front of the team presenting her findings for the week, arms crossed. Her vision was glaring directly at you, and so was everyone else’s. 

You, on the other hand, were sprawled out at the furthest chair in the back, staring back at her and not backing down. 

“Whoa,” Tony broke the silence in the room, “What is this really weird energy that I just walked into?”

It was meant to be a joke, cutting through the tension and to get someone to hopefully fill him up to speed on yet another argument between the two of you, but Natasha then diverted her anger towards him, and Tony knew the moment he screwed up. Tears welled behind the Black Widow’s eyes, and she swiped at them furiously as a choked sob left her, bumping into his shoulder as she immediately rushed out of the room. 

“I went through with the report for her insubordination,” you explained, when everyone suddenly turned their attention back to you, “Fury suspended her for two weeks.”

“Really?” Steve cut in, but you held your hand up before he could continue.

“It wasn’t because I purposely wanted to be a dick, or to report my own wife for betraying my orders, but the fact that she directly put herself in a line of fire when we had obviously discussed and agreed upon not doing it, in front of newer agents on the team, what kind of example would we be setting for the new guys?”

“Don’t you think it’s too much?” Clint chided, “I mean, I’m pretty sure Nat knows what she’s doing. And your own wife, for Christ sake…”

“No, but come on,” you straightened, outstretching your hands in explanation, “This was a matter of team safety! If we had let it slide–”

“–You let it slide when you and Barton were supposed to take her out on that one mission on the KGB. And look where we are now.” Steve said, and he hit a sore spot.

You bit your tongue, a comment that would have not been the nicest begging to slip out of your lips, when Tony finally sighed. He turned to you, and in a tone more serious than he had ever been, asked, “Is there something else that you are unhappy with? About Romanoff?” 

He continued. “I don’t want to point fingers or say that we’re all against you here. I mean, you’re one of us, you always have been, but I’m sure you’ve noticed that things… haven't been the same recently. Is everything okay between you and Natasha?” 

You knew what he was implying. “You’re saying I’m ruining the dynamic of the team.”

“Not all the blame is on you, but…” Tony gulped, nodding to replace his answer. 

–

“How about a honeymoon?” Fury asked, watching you pace about his office. You had taken particular interest in the minimal decorations on his shelf, refusing to make direct eye contact with him for the past hour. 

“I doubt she’d want to go anywhere remotely far with me. Should see the mountain of pillows she builds between us each night; it seems like pregnancy’s only made her hate me even more.” Finding comfort on the sofa right  across from him, you leaned your head back in the presence of your closest friend in the compound. Only Fury knew of her pregnancy, with you and Natasha agreeing to keep it private from the others until the time was right. 

He shrugged. “You guys never had a honeymoon, and I just felt it was mostly my fault, is all.”

“She needed a green card to escape the KGB, I was single, we got married with you as the only witness out of convenience, not a big deal, really,” you quipped, “In a way, you played matchmaker for us even early on.”

“An arranged marriage works wonders for my two coldest assassins, right?” 

“We’re pregnant now, so there’s your answer. Not the most happy, or successful, of marriages, but I’ll give you that, Nick.”

But the man was still your boss, as he cruelly reminded you, handing you your resignation papers for the next three months. 

“Three months; the first trimester, that’s it. Just you and her, space to sort out your marital problems and get back together with us again. I can’t have you ruining the team more than you have, Agent. It worked for Clint and Laura, and Tony and Pepper, I have to have you and Natasha work too.”

He turned to leave, another meeting calling out for him in the next moment, but not before he stopped at the door, and uttered words you had been dreading to hear the whole week.

“And for God’s sake, it’s your wife, Agent. You have every right to be angry at her for insubordination, or how she’s been treating you these few months, but you forget so conveniently that she’s pregnant; something so foreign to someone like her. You tell me you gave up Wanda for her, but that’s not noble, it was only right. 

Hold her responsible, tell her what’s been bothering you, and work through it. No more running. She needs you as much as you need her. You can’t treat this like any other mission; have some heart and take care of her, will you?”

–

Before leaving, Clint had asked to see you one last time. In the shooting range, where he shot arrows and you watched, he tried to convince you to see things from Natasha’s point of view. 

“I mean, just try to see things from her perspective, you know? When Laura and I were having problems–”

“–Clint, I didn’t really come here for a lecture.”

An arrow whizzed past your head, but Clint’s intimidation did not make you flinch. “That’s the problem. You don’t listen, you never do.”

He sighed, letting another one fly. “You need to listen, to let Natasha speak and give her space to tell you what’s really bothering her. You know how she is, it’s not easy for her to open up about her problems; ever so headstrong.”

“And if you want a shot at getting back to what you two were before this…before all of this…you should treat her like such; do the little things. They matter. Take her out on a date once in a while, give her flowers, treat her like the queen she is to you. I’m not Natasha, and I’m not the most privy to your relationship, but I do know your kindness, and the patience you gave her was ultimately what led her to fall in love with you too. I’m sure she’d still like to see that side of you by her side for the rest of her life.”

Out of the corner of Clint’s eye, he saw you hold your fist to your throat, swallowing the lump that was trying to form. When you got up and left without another word, he knew you were suppressing the tears that threatened to fall in front of him. 

–

Natasha opted to wait by the car while you said temporary goodbyes to the rest of the team, and you didn’t fail to catch the hurt in her eyes, still, when Wanda reached in to pull you for a hug too. She had smiled at you, but you kept the hug brief and uttered a see you right after, rushing to Natasha’s side in a hurry. 

You held her hand as you walked up to the car together, and when the cool breeze of the wind hit her cheeks, Natasha felt you let go for a brief moment, only to feel the warmth of your sweater enveloping her in the next. With the smell of you flooding her senses, Natasha felt her cheeks warm too, as you grinned.

“You still look so tiny in it.”

She rolled her eyes, letting you open the car door for her. “Shut up, it’s oversized on you too.” 

But her annoyance was feigned, appreciation genuine, as she reached out for your hand again in the car, never letting go of it throughout your drive to the remote cabin.

–

The first night of your getaway together, you caught Natasha placing a hand on her lower abdomen as she checked herself out in the mirror of your bedroom. She turned left, then right, and scrutinised her body even further. A frown etched on her face, you could tell something was bothering her.

“Dinner’s ready.” She startled hearing your voice, hurriedly pulling her top back down, but she knew you had already seen enough. 

Leaning against the wall, you offered her a smile, a space to tell you what was wrong. In any other circumstance, Natasha would have tried to avoid the topic altogether, but she knew you would not let it go without her telling you. 

“It just feels unreal,” she managed, “Still. That I’m pregnant. That we’re having a baby. I somehow still think my body is lying to me, the doctors are lying to me. Some sick prank that the universe is playing on me.”

When she looked over at you, your face was hidden by the shadows from the door, and her worry instantly crept back. “I mean, it’s stupid–”

“–It’s not stupid to me.” Suddenly, the embrace of your arms around her body was all her mind registered, as her own arms wrapped around yours back. 

Holding her tight, you pressed a kiss to the crown of her hair, murmuring, “It’s not stupid, and it’s real, Natasha. I know you’re so used to all this self-doubt, and rejection, even from your own body, but it’s real. This is real, and you are amazing. You are going to bring life into this world, and god forbid if I won’t be here with you for it too.”

You coaxed her back to the dining room slowly, wiping the tear tracks on her cheek as she followed after you. At dinner, you caught her eyeing another serving of the pasta, but shamefully looking away as she remembered what it would mean for her weight, which was already steadily rising. 

Natasha watched you scoop a small helping for yourself, and offering her the large portion of the remainder of the pasta. I don’t want it to go to waste, you had said as nonchalantly as you could, accompanying her as she blissfully took another forkful of her replenished plate. 

You played the music on the turntable that night, while Natasha insisted on doing the dishes. Watching her then, the music flowing through her veins and the soft sway of her hips as she moved to the rhythm, an almost foreign, faintly familiar feeling of butterflies began to bloom in your stomach again. 

–

The next morning, when the pasta resurfaced in the form of vomit through Natasha’s morning sickness, you were there to hold her hair back, sleepily rubbing her own back and reassuring her that she was going to be okay. 

Natasha teared up at the discomfort, but you were there to help her wash up, making a hot drink for her before lulling her back to sleep to properly rest. And while she slept, you sneaked off to prepare breakfast for her. 

When you returned, Natasha was clutching the shirt you slept in, nuzzling her nose into it for comfort and whispering your name in her sleep. 

–

A week into the start of your new life together, you were gardening in the small patch overlooking the fields outside, while Natasha sat and watched you while she did paperwork for the team. It was the first full week in she had not lashed out, and you had not avoided her in anger and retaliation, and as she felt her hand subconsciously lay on her stomach again, she whispered a thanks to the baby not yet showing for the newfound relationship they had helped establish for the both of you. 

“What are you going to do tomorrow?” She asked, while you laid down fresh soil for the vegetables. 

You shrugged. “The sunflowers may need repotting, we have a problem with one of the hinges from the bathroom door, so I’ll be fixing that, and…” you trailed off, before remembering, “...I can make you that smoothie Clint was telling us about, the one he made for Laura when she wasn’t feeling so good. The kale is almost ripe.”

It was the first infliction that made Natasha second-guess your words for the first time in a while. “That sounds disgusting.”

She had expected you to laugh it off, or even dismiss it altogether as a joke, but you put down your hand shovel then, and paused, staring into the fields beyond. “It’s good for you, and the baby. Extra nutrition on top of your prenatals can’t hurt.”

“I’m not that weak, though, to be needing that,” Natasha rebutted, “Laura only needed it because she had some issues with Nathaniel, I’m perfectly fine with our baby.”

When you failed to answer immediately, Natasha sat straighter, voice louder, “Are you saying I’m not strong enough to carry this baby without a crutch? That I need to drink nutritional smoothies and take extra medication and precautions just so I don’t fuck this all up for you?”

You turned around this time, the same look you always had when she sparked yet another heated debate adorned, the same look Natasha had not missed seeing at all. 

“I never said that. God, Nat, I just wanted to do a nice gesture, to make sure you’re not missing out on any nutrition, that’s all. If you didn’t want it you could’ve just said so.”

With a sigh, you moved to keep your gardening tools, the mood to continue clearly ruined, and a familiar feeling of dread and fear rose within Natasha. Even if you were there with her, even if she knew you were only going inside to clear your head, it looked all too similar to you leaving her all over again. The resigned look on your face, the heaviness in your steps, Natasha had dreamed too many times of this scenario unfolding. 

“Wait!” She stopped you from opening the door and going in, suddenly embracing you from the back and holding tight. You made a move to protest, but her grip was firm, tears already soaking the back of your shirt. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she whispered, hoping you would understand, “I’m so sorry. I was horrible.”

Your heartbeat palpable to her ears, Natasha then felt you slowly let go of the door handle, and brought your arms over hers. “It’s okay, Nat.” 

“You just wanted to take care of me, and I—I–”

“It’s okay,” you reassured, “Happens.” 

You invited her back inside, and let her spend the rest of the day in your arms to reassure her of any insecurities you knew had cropped up during the small altercation the both of you just had. 

–

“I see that relations between the two of you are better.” Once again, Natasha’s gynaecologist pointed out to you, as you nodded, then shrugged. 

“I guess.” 

The woman offered you a sympathetic smile. “It’s a good thing. I’m happy for you. She looks happier, as well.” 

Almost two months into her pregnancy then, you knew the few times you had been leaving the cabin and visiting the hospital had been a little unnerving for Natasha, considering her own past and job history. So for the gynaecologist to be able to see past the brave front she put on, past her own worries and insecurities about her own body carrying the child, you knew something in her had shifted as well. 

With a everything’s healthy and an all-clear to leave, Natasha was more than glad to leave and gawk over the new scan provided from the visit. But even through her smile and supposed excitement of your suggestion to catch a film at the cinema the previous night, you knew she was tired; she had almost fallen asleep in the waiting room while you paid, her footsteps were a little heavier, and she had leaned her head on your shoulder while the both of you were in the lift, in public. Natasha was never one to showcase her weaknesses in public. 

So you made the first move. “Let’s just go home, okay?”

She held your hand over the console in the car, and with eyelids drooping, still shook her head. “No, it’s supposed to be a date…a movie date. I wanna go.”

With the traffic light red, you brought her hand to your lips, pressing a feather kiss before returning it to her side. “You’re exhausted, Nat. We can still go tomorrow, but for today, let’s go home, okay? I’ll put on another film on the TV, make homemade popcorn, and we can make a blanket fort, just like back at the compound.”

Natasha felt that she didn’t deserve you at all, as she nodded gratefully then, and tiredly.

–

The comforting scent of Natasha’s shampoo was all that occupied your senses, as she laid in your arms, softly snoring halfway into the film. With a small grin attached to your face, you whispered a I told you so into her hair and pulled the blanket further to keep her warm.  

When the credits began to roll, she finally stirred again, and mumbled, “That was a good film. I liked it.”

You decided to keep her secrets to yourself, and wiped away the little bit of drool on her chin. “Me too.” 

Natasha took a little longer to regain her surroundings, as you got up to start on lunch. But even as her stomach rumbled, she had to control herself from the nausea that washed through her as she watched you begin chopping the vegetables.

You noticed her watching, and paused for a minute. “Yes, Nat?”

But Natasha didn’t want to pose as a bother. “Nothing. I’m hungry too.”

However, when the final plate was served in front of her and you were busy with the garnishes, the nausea returned, and you saw her physically recoil to prevent herself from retching this time. Slightly offended, you had pulled the plate back, but Natasha refused to let you do so.

“It’s–” You had moved to look for something else for her, but Natasha knew she was wasting your efforts if she let up. 

“No, I’ll eat it, I just…” she took a moment to gather herself, “...I’ll be fine.”

But when even a few bites proved difficult for her, she was grateful that you took the plate away this time, sitting down by her side to rub her back. “Nat, tell me what’s wrong.”

Shamefully, she hid her face in your shoulder, and finally mumbled, “I want mac and cheese. Baby too.”

She had expected you to let out an irritated sigh, or even lecture her on wasting food and opting for something unhealthy that she would never crave for in the compound, but instead, you let out a soft chuckle, and kissed her cheek. 

“You’re not mad?” She asked, a little surprised. 

“No, why would I be?” You replied, getting up to find the car keys. “But you should’ve said it earlier, my love. Now you’re hungry and it’s a little bit of a drive away to the grocery store.”

But Natasha was more than happy to follow, despite your protests for her to rest at home, and with the both of you poring over the mac and cheese box options in the grocery store, the butterflies in her stomach felt like they were going to explode each time your hand brushed over hers in reassurance. 

– 

But life was never so fair, or smooth sailing. Life in the cabin had not been a magic solution to yours and Natasha’s problems, and you were growing weary of said problems being carried over wherever you went, too.

The first strike had been on one of the busiest nights for SHIELD Intelligence. One of the sectors had been compromised, everyone was working overtime to recover any lost intelligence, and of all things you struggled with, the shitty internet connection was your biggest obstacle. 

Your calls with Maria and the team back at the compound were choppy, your emails were not sending through, and the frustration was creeping in. You had been cooped up in the study for the better part of the day, and Natasha had been left out of every single meeting because Maria had simply wanted her to rest. 

So of course you had your wife breathing down your neck as well, asking for updates every hour on the team’s progress. But even as a workaholic as she is, Natasha thought it was more than reasonable to think you were working too much; at breakfast you had received your first call from Fury, then at lunch you skipped eating with her to fix a bug in the team’s code, and even at dinner, when she wanted to finally have a proper conversation with you about her day, you were on a conference call with Maria again. 

By one in the morning, where you were sending emergency emails for backup, Natasha entered your study again, in a nightgown that was just a little too revealing and light makeup to coax you to bed, but you did not spare one look at her as you shrugged her off with, “Not now, Nat.” 

“You’re working too much,” she tried to drape her body over yours, but you only reclined the seat and pushed her off gently. “Feels like you disappeared all day today.”

“Yeah, well, Maria’s gotten me on a tight leash,” you replied, ignoring her sighing and standing back at the door, “I’ll be lucky if we can even get this done by the morning.” 

Natasha called out your name once, then twice, and by the third, you snapped with, “Busy, Nat! Please! Would you go away, or go to sleep first? I can’t concentrate with you hovering over me!”

You only realised the severity of your words a few seconds after it left your mouth, as you then looked up at Natasha, who had tears in her eyes, and a warm cup of tea fixed for you, standing by the doorway again. Guilt needled into your heart, but she was already retreating to the bedroom by the time you tried to stand. 

“Wait, Nat–” 

“–Save it. I’m going to bed.” Her tone cold and unnerving, you would have almost missed the sniffle in her voice. Sighing, you returned to the call with Maria while Natasha beat herself up for letting her usually well-concealed emotions appear in front of you. Her and her stupid hormones.

But the guilt never really went away, and your focus never returned for the night. Whatever the chief of security was rambling about suddenly didn’t make sense, your emails were only piling higher and higher, and Maria knew the moment you started another call with her barely an hour later of what you were going to ask of her. 

“I have to go, Maria, I’m sorry. I’ll finish this tomorrow.”

“No, no,” Maria tried reasoning, but you were already shutting down your computer, “If you leave us now, I am never going to forgive you, Agent!” 

But her threats fell on deaf ears, as you quickly muttered another apology, and ended the call. Leaving your phone in the study to beep the entire night, you knew you were placing more trust in Maria and the team’s abilities than before you left for the cabin, and you knew somewhere along the line, your mind had made up of the shift in priorities, too. 

Natasha felt your arms underneath her sleeping figure soon after, and at the expense of Maria’s wrath in the morning, you slid in bed with her. She tried pushing you away, but her body worked against her as she practically melted into you while you whispered murmurs of apology into her skin. You were upset, and had thought her reaction was a little unwarranted, but chose not to speak of it. 

She won this time. 

– 

The second strike came a week after the first. The compromise had spread to other areas of SHIELD as well, and while you tried as best as you could to help out from the cabin, you knew you had to prioritise Natasha and the baby as well. 

Without much space for creativity or freedom to invent new recipes, you knew you had been preparing the same repetition of healthier, simpler meals for Natasha. And while she had never been a picky eater, pregnancy had drastically shifted her palate and tastes for food. 

So when she found you cooking a variation of whatever vegetable, stock, and rice you had left in the fridge for the third day in a row, she thought it was more than fair to turn up her nose and let out a I’m tired of that to you. 

But the nearest diner and pizza places were over an hour away, and you did not like Natasha eating so many of the mac and cheese boxes she had bought in bulk so often. So you replied with a, “It’s all we have, we’d have to make do for the rest of the week, I think.”

You didn’t miss the groan in her throat as she threw her hands in the air, before throwing herself onto the sofa. “Then I’m not eating. I can’t stomach that.”

“Natasha, don't be childish.” You reasoned, “You can’t not eat.”

You were met with a middle finger in the air then, and while you would have usually let it go, attribute it to pregnancy side effects and whatever that came along with it, you were tired, and hung out dry from work. And a middle finger in the air from the one person you were stuck with, who seemed like they had a problem with almost everything you did, was too much for you then. 

“Fine. Then don’t.” You switched off the stove, and threw the ingredients into the trash before retreating to the study to finish more work. You could tell Natasha was caught off-guard with your reaction, but she didn’t want to back down, and she was already pissed too. 

She left for a nap to quell the growling of her stomach later on, still holding out against you and not giving in. Somewhere along the line, she heard the front door click and you stepping out, but thought nothing of it; you were probably out for a run, or checking on the garden outside, and she was not risking the comfortable position she finally found to question you what you were doing at nearly twelve midnight. 

But when the rumbling of her stomach became too hard to ignore later on, Natasha had no choice but to leave the safety and comfort of the bed to forage for food downstairs. She could already imagine the bare ingredients left in the fridge, nothing salvageable and she had to grovel at you to make her something at least edible for her in the end. 

But you were downstairs this time, watching the television, and when her eyes met yours, you pointed towards the dining table; where the table was set out with an overwhelming number of takeout boxes from her favourite Chinese place at the edge of town. She had mentioned it to you as a craving offhandedly the previous night, but Natasha would never have imagined you would take her seriously, considering how long it would take to get there and back.

Her heart fell to her stomach, and apologies were about to tumble out of her lips when you stood up, and led her to sit at the dining chair. 

“I wanted to wake you from your nap, but I figured waiting for you would be safer,” you gave her a small smile, ladleing hot and sour soup for her, “And I got new groceries and a recipe book. Hopefully tomorrow we’ll have better lunches and dinners. Sorry about today, love.” 

Tears welled in her eyes again, but this time, Natasha swallowed them back down to crash her lips against yours in gratefulness. 

Your guilt always got the best of you. She won again. 

– 

The third strike, however, did not end up with you giving in so easily, and forever shifted the dynamic in your relationship.

It had been the end of the very exhausting episode of finally fixing the compromised SHIELD Intelligence sectors, and Maria and the team had asked you out to celebrate. You were wary of leaving behind Natasha all alone in the cabin, and even more afraid of bringing the invitation up to her, but Maria was persistent about you enjoying yourself for just one night. And in truth, you did want to go. 

Natasha was reluctant to let you go, but even Clint and the rest of the team’s advice about cutting you some slack, not keeping you on such a tight leash rang back through her, and eventually, she agreed. You caught the doubt on her face as you were getting ready, and you knew she wanted to say something, anything, to try to convince you not to go, to just stay home with her and watch another round of Netflix series, but you knew you had to do at least one thing without her in this journey. It was only healthy to let her be alone once in a while. 

With a kiss to her forehead and a promise to be home by midnight, you left Natasha standing on the porch then, the light washing the night and her figure with honey. 

–

Maria did always take her celebrations quite seriously, however. With wine and good conversations flowing into the night, it was easy to forget about the promise you had made to make it back by twelve for Natasha. By the time you even left the restaurant, it was half past midnight, and the team was already making fun of you for leaving earlier than they all were. 

“Romanoff’s never been an easy one to deal with, huh?” One of the agents piped up, meeting with a resounding agreement and laughter from the rest of the team. “Hard-headed on the job, even more hard-headed in bed, Agent.”

You flipped him off then, the hint of a grin on your face now only customary. “You know how she is, Ward. Leave her be.”

“Hey, I’m not the one stupid enough to marry her,” he shot back, “She’s crazy, and not the good kind. If I had your patience, and your looks, Agent, I know Romanoff’s the furthest thing I would touch with a stick; would’ve bagged a dumb supermodel, at least. Though now, you did kind of strike gold in the looks department, huh? That hourglass figure sculpted by nothing the KGB could beat out of her.”

Maria had elbowed him in the ribs, hard, but you could only give back a sad smile and begin to walk away. “That’s…my wife for you.” 

Before another round of jibes and remarks were thrown towards your wife, the cab you had ordered arrived, and as you got in and said your goodbyes to the team you had not seen for months, you couldn’t help but repeat Ward’s insensitivity in your head over and over again, all throughout the drive home. 

–

By the time you walked into the door, it was already nearing two in the morning, and you didn’t need Natasha’s murderous glare to know you had left her worried, and scared, that you were not coming home. 

“I know, I know,” you sighed, struggling to take off your shoes, “I’m a little late. And a little tipsy. Sorry.”

You wanted to get it over and done with quickly, so you could head off to bed and avoid the fight rumbling altogether. But Natasha had other plans. 

“Nearly two hours late,” she corrected, then, “What were you guys doing outside?”

“Dinner, drinks, the usual. I was with Maria, Ward, Coulson, the usual.”

Natasha cringed at the mention of Ward, and you knew you hit a sore point with her. “What did you guys talk about?”

“Nat…” you shook your head, “...Boundaries, remember?” 

“Just…you know how Ward is. Did he say anything about me to you?”

“Nothing I haven’t heard of.” The wine was returning to your bloodstream, as you struggled to make it past the couch in a straight line. 

But Natasha blocked your path altogether. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You gave her an incredulous look, eyebrows furrowed, before sighing. “It means…Ward is Ward. He is always going to make uncalled for jokes, comments, and this has been him since our Academy days. I’ve learnt to just ignore it, and you should too.”

“But you listen to him, don’t you? And you let his words get to you sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” you agreed, “But I forget it quickly after. Nothing that comes out of his mouth when he’s had alcohol is of value, anyway.” 

“Do you agree with him in those cases, then?” Natasha backed away, her tone accusatory. 

You frowned, shaking your head, until the woman let it slip that Maria had informed her of what Ward said, along with the updates on where you were for the night. You cursed internally, reminding yourself to scold Maria later, when Natasha continued with, “Do you regret marrying me, darling?”

Taken aback as you were, you refused to let Natasha’s insecurities get the best of her tonight. Standing up to walk past her again, you replied with, “What are you talking about, Nat? I’m going to get some work done, you should go to bed. It’s late.” 

“Do you spend time with people like Ward, and all those other assholes you used to buddy up in the Academy, because you can’t stand to be around me? Literally anybody else but me seems to make you happier to be around these days.” 

You didn’t like where the conversation was going, and even more the accusations she was spilling out. It was unfair, and wrong, and all the things you did not want to deal with tonight. “You’re my wife, Natasha. Of course I’m happy to spend time with you. Jesus, I leave for one night and you come and accuse me of things I never am, it’s ridiculous! I’m going to the study, don’t wait up for me in bed. We have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”

–

You told yourself to forget about it; to get over yourself and your ego, to forgive Natasha, and talk to her about it in the morning. If it was something she was insecure about, she would raise her concerns then, when the both of you were calmer, and more ready to hear each other out. But perhaps you had had enough, or you were mad at something beyond Natasha's control; either way, the more time you spent stewing, and thinking, in that study, the more you couldn’t concentrate on your work and the more you got angry at your wife’s persistence and jealousy. 

Why couldn’t she be better? Why couldn’t Natasha be easier to love? Why did everyone make her out to be such a good person, such a victim, and paint you as the evil one for wanting better? Mostly, you were upset that nobody even bothered to consider things from your point of view. It was always take care of her, don’t hurt her even further, or even you should know better than to treat her like this, as if five years of marriage would magically fix every problem the two of you would encounter, as if you could just give in to everything because she was Natasha and she was always right. 

Your eyes drifted to the framed photo of the full team after one particularly difficult mission, where everyone was nearly knocked out and all ready to go home to rest for the next week or so. Yet, there were triumphant smiles, fists pumped into the air in excitement to go home. Natasha was beside a still-optimistic Steve, while you were a few people down beside Tony with…Wanda draped over you. 

You remembered it was the mission where she had the bullet graze on her hip. It had become difficult for her to stand by then, but she was still insisting to be in the picture before you could rush her for medical attention. So the best she could do was lean on you for support, her body draped over yours as she gave you a dopey grin, while you smiled at the camera. The end result was her eyes focused on your face, instead of the camera in front, but it was still one of your favourite photographs you had. 

A deep, ugly feeling rose in you then. Why was Wanda the only one able to see you for who you were? Why was she the only one willing to listen to you, to hear you out on things, and let you come home even after all that you’ve done? Why couldn’t you love her instead? It was so late, almost four in the morning, but you managed to bang your head against the wall behind with minimal noise, and stood up to do what you were sure you were going to regret in the morning. 

Your phone was still by the kitchen counter, and Wanda’s number was memorised by heart. But right as you punched in her number, pressed the call button, the anger, the vengeance, dissipated. This was low, even for you, you recognised. 

Your heart began to thump slowly at what you’ve done. The phone rang once, twice, and by the third, you tried to look away from it, turning around to the living room to distract yourself, when the sight that greeted you made you feel only a million times worse. 

Natasha was asleep on the sofa, feet propped up on the armrests, head lolling to the side as she snored softly. One of her hands was dangling in the air, while the other…the other rested over her stomach, where even under the lowlights of the small lamp by the reading corner, you saw it for the first time. Her stomach had rounded out ever so slightly, and a bump had finally formed. 

You were sure the tears that sprang to your eyes were the most confusing mix of angry, disappointed, yet happy tears ever, and in the silence of the cabin, far away from anyone else, you had wanted to scream. Why you were put in one of the worst dilemmas of your life, why you, of all people, had to be the one to go through this, you were more angry at yourself than anyone else by then. Natasha was carrying your child, a blessing you had been hoping for for ages, and you were considering leaving her right then. 

“Hello?” It was Wanda’s voice through your phone that broke you out of your trance. She sounded sleepy, and tired, but you caught the twinge of optimism that she greeted you with as well. 

Your throat was too choked up to answer her. You were sure that if you had opened your mouth, everything would change. Nothing would be the same ever again, and you were going to lose everything you ever loved for the past five years. 

You couldn’t do it. So when Wanda called out your name, prompted a second hello, you ignored how good it felt to hear her voice, and hung up the call immediately. 

a/n: PART 3! PART 3! SOON!

#natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #black widow x reader #scarlet witch x reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #black widow #scarlet witch #marvel cinematic universe #is there someone else #natasha romanoff x spidey!reader

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.4

Oh, John. It's hard because I'm like “fame was not good for that man” but I'm also like “he would've gone crazy with self-loathing if he didn't have the fame.”

John and Paul start to answer a question at the same time. John: no, go on, you can say it. They're seriously so married. 

John's schoolboy flirting is cute, but what's more noteworthy to me is a) how happy Paul is to be shoved and b) how he instantly leans back into John. It's like they're bungeed together or something. 

John gets me. Look how much he loves Paul bringing out the forced confidence shield to protect him. He's so in love. So turned on. 

Here's my question about the death threats. Did the other Beatles actually receive them and tell Brian about them and keep them from John? Because that would be incredibly sweet and noble of them, but also, in that case, surely John received death threats too. Meaning he just didn't care about his own life and assumed the others were being left out of it because they hadn't actually said they were bigger than Jesus. Or did they have people filtering all their mail by that point? And Brian had been keeping the death threats from all of them? Because that could be interpreted as both protective and selfish of him. Does anyone know?

Again. I just love how Paul goes to bat for John over and over during this tour. Batting his eyes and playing with his hair and shouting down any and all criticism of John speaking his mind.

This moment is so telling to me. An interviewer who was up front at several concerts points out the looks and smiles between John and Paul which you can only see from the front and asks, “is it really that much fun every time?” The easy answer is, “Yeah. We like what we do. It's fun!” But Paul gets cagey. “Oh well the thing is you know with things like that it's probably…” and he makes up a bullshit story about messing up on a song they haven't performed in a year. Why do that if you don't have something to hide? (Even if you're subconsciously hiding) That right there is a tip-off for me that they're not normal about each other. 

Interviewer: are you guys breaking up? John, immediately and emphatically: No. Paul: "Depends what you mean by breaking up, you know . . . Because we can't go on forever like this, so we've got to think now and prepare for, you know, if it did happen. The time has come for us to break up, but we've realized the possibility . . . Of breaking up as a natural progression." Literally shut the fuck up right now, you're going to give John an aneurysm.

I understand. I know. I don't relate to Paul much but I do relate to his hyperactivity and his avoidant attachment. I make sure constantly that I'll be okay when all my relationships end. But you don't talk about that in front of the other person. Especially someone like John whose worst fear is being left. Come on. Think. 

See, now look what you did, Paul. Here's John's answer the next time they're asked about breaking up. 

And yeah, the klan being the ones to “stand up against the Beatles blasphemy” really proves my point from the last post I think. It's just masked racism. 

It actually seems like Paul's more vocally political at this point in time than John is. I wonder what happened to change that? Was it just the influence of their respective wives? Was it just easier for them to play up the roles they'd been assigned for the most part?

Okay on this round of “are you breaking up” they look at each other first before they answer and then Paul goes “all together probably.” I wonder if they talked about their previous answers together and admitted – however cautiously or however veiled – that hearing the other say they might leave hadn't been fun. Who knows, honestly.  

Paul and John often talk about making a radio show together apparently. Gosh if only they could've done that now. I'd make them my token white boy podcast. It'd be great. They'd be so lame and so adorable and they'd talk about recipes and politics and they'd gossip and rank other people's music. But anyway, what really gets me is the often bit. So they really did plan their post-beatle future together. Enough that it was a frequent topic of discussion between them. They planned to be together forever. 

Ugh it always guts me that Paul brought a girlfriend to Paris with him to meet up with John.

Okay my tin hat is glued to my head for this but. But. Hear me out alright? So John starts filming on 09/19/66. He's there for 6 &½ weeks. Putting the end at the beginning of November, right when Paul goes in disguise and alone to Paris. Do we have tabs on John for those dates? John just talked about going around Paris in disguise. What if  they met up by themselves and in secret? What then?

 No fucking wonder John was exhausted with him. Damn. He takes a month and a half to write strawberry fields, shows it to Paul, then...

Interviewer: the songwriting team will keep going whatever happens will it? John: yeah, we'll probably carry on writing music Forever. It's just so ‘Obviously. Might as well ask me if the sun's going to come up tomorrow.’

His friend – try dangerous drugs with and take home to daddy type “friend” – just died brutally and suddenly two days ago, and this is what he looks like and talks like and he's going in to work like it's nothing. I just. Compare that to John talking about Brian's death? Obviously two very different relationships but still… Paul's upbringing really fucked him up so hard. He thinks he's not allowed to be human. What can I say? It's a drag.

AKA the happiest 6 months of John and Paul's lives. 

I find it fascinating that Paul alone is asked to compose and record what would eventually become the carnival of light and that he just went ahead and included everyone in that. Really makes me wonder if he got a vibe off John that him doing the family way alone was hurtful or if they maybe even talked about it? Or maybe he just didn't like doing the family way without John.

Actually quite a lovely, forward-thinking, humble speech. Imagine being John, though. Watching that from home like “why the fuck is he philosophizing to the world without me?” Because you know John shares all those sentiments and might even have got there first. It would be infuriating.

“A lucky man who made the grade” is an interesting way to describe Tara and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with Tara being cool enough for Paul to associate with him. And Paul is many things but stupid is not one of them. He's going to at the very least wonder if this verse is about John laughing at his friend's death. Right? Like I know Paul's the repression CEO but seriously I don't think even he is that good. 

Maybe that Leopold and Leob quote isn't just about tearing people down verbally. Maybe Wooler genuinely got a vibe of a sense of superiority and therefore lack of empathy with Lennon/McCartney.

I mean he really does sound like he's describing sex though, doesn't he? Emotional, loving, romantic sex. Followed immediately by Paul's “I'd love to turn you on” lyrics and the “down with pants” and “sword swallower” pins. Alrighty then. 

What I would call my Beatles bio after watching this. "They Touched Dicks: The Only Logical Conclusion."

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #understanding lennon mccartney #ulm

[whaledenwtf]

I'm such a sucker for Gale, and I want some fluff about him, maybe like what happened after or during the wedding, what would it look like? Like what would our man do

I'm such a sucker for Gale too, he's just baby. I'm not too familiar with Act 3 and the new epilogues they added but I'll do my baby justice. I'll be writing this with a female reader, so if you'd like GN! Reader I can try rewriting it.

As always, I try to keep Gale in character as much as possible. If you enjoy this fic, consider sharing it! I have requests open, which you can send here: Link I have a Masterlist for Baldur's Gate 3 works I've written, which also has a list of what I will and won't write here: Link

Gale x AFAB!Reader - Wedding Bells

Warnings: AFAB!Reader, Fluff, Mentions of Anxiety, Self-Deprecation (Poor Gale), Mentions of Mystra (Mystra when I catch you Mystra), Minor Angst if you squint.

WORD COUNT: 869

Gods he was so nervous. He kept pacing back and forth, subconsciously playing with his hands.

"Are you having regrets Mr. Dekarios?" He is snapped out of his reverie by Tara, who's watching him from a distance.

"Regrets? I could never regret my relationship with (Y/N), Tara. I am just... nervous. I don't want her to change her mind, is all." He tells her honestly. Tara struts closer to him, tail swaying behind her.

"I believe you are overthinking, Mr. Dekarios. After all, don't you think she would have changed her mind before the wedding day?" He ponders that for a moment.

"I suppose you may be right, Tara. However, I've come to realize there is no such luck for a fool like me. She may have changed her mind and is running out now-" To emphasize his point, he looks out the window to see if there is a runaway bride. He exhales in relief when he doesn't see you running off. Tara scoffs.

"Are you sure you won't be the one who runs out? Show some self-respect Mr. Dekarios. You are incredibly talented and a good friend. She loves you, in case you had forgotten." Tara sits, her wings twitching.

He looks away from the window, only seeing the wedding party seated in the rows and rows of seats, alongside your companions who were interacting with one another. The door opens, and Gale's mother walks in.

"Oh thank Mystra! My little boy is getting married- I was starting to get worried." Morena wails out, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Gale rolls his eyes.

"Have you so little faith in me, mother?" She huffs, squinting at him.

"You were a recluse, Gale. A mother tends to worry when her son is aging without another by their side. I just want you happy." She tells him. He looks down, feeling guilty for worrying his mother.

"I am sorry-" Morena shakes her head.

"All is in the past now-" She claps her hands. She walks closer, giving him a once over, brushing non-existent dust off his shoulders. "I am very proud of you." She tells him quietly. He grips her in a tight hug, like a child would when they were scared. She caresses his back comfortingly, and he is filled with a sense of calmness. All his previous fears and anxieties dissipate. The door opens again. Morena lets go of Gale, giving him some space.

"Just coming in to check in. Am I disturbing something?" Gale hears your voice. Before he can take a glimpse at you, he turns around, eyes screwed shut.

"It is bad luck to see the bride before the aisle!" He shouts out. All the women giggle at him. You begin walking forward, smiling at Morena and Tara.

"We will leave you two alone. Come, Tara." They leave, closing the door behind them.

"Turn around, sweetheart. Who needs luck or gods, when we have each other?" You tell him, standing behind him. He sighs, turning around, eyes still screwed shut. You chuckle, taking his face in your hand.

"Open your eyes, Gale." He opens one eye, and his jaw drops. You were stunning; probably the most beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes upon.

"Oh-" He opens both eyes, to look you up and down, multiple times.

"You're beautiful." He whispers, eyes watering. It never felt so real until this moment, seeing you devote yourself to him. You wipe the single tear that leaves his misty eyes. He blinks multiple times, willing himself not to cry.

"You don't look too bad yourself." You tease him, grinning.

"I wanted to check on you, see if you had changed your mind?" He looks into your eyes, seeing your honesty.

"Why would I change my mind?" You shrug.

"We don't need fancy ceremonies or gold rings to show our love to one another. All I need is you by my side." He takes your hand, kissing it.

"I can never regret anything I do if it involves you, my love." You giggle at his words.

"How are you feeling?" You ask him sweetly. He bites his lip.

"I am- was very nervous. For a moment I thought you would want to cancel the wedding." You shake your head.

"I love you, Gale. I'm not going anywhere. The tadpole couldn't keep us apart; nor the Netherese Orb; and definitely not some goddess." You end the sentence bitterly. He chuckles, putting his arms around you, kissing your forehead.

"We can do this, together." He says out loud.

"Together." You whisper, leaning into his neck and kissing him there.

BONUS: You close the door behind you, leaving Gale to his thoughts. You turn to see Astarion and Wyll waiting for you. You jump, holding a hand to your heart as they scared you.

"Gods! Don't sneak up on me like that." They both chuckle.

"Did he cry?" Astarion asks excitedly. You chuckle, nodding.

"HA! Pay up Ravengard." Wyll sighs, handing over a pouch of gold to Astarion.

"I knew that sap would cry. Shouldn't have bet against me." Wyll rolls his eye.

"Alright Astarion." Wyll tells him. You smile at the two, before pulling them away from the door.

#fanfic #fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #gale x reader #baldurs gate gale #gale bg3 #fluff #request

[axellis]

good morning im politely requesting people look at my post abt how the ancients see each other

under the cut some closeups + a ton of additional thoughts

hollyberry + golden cheese are also part of the crew of 'thinking pv is a bit naive', but he's also the most emotionally intelligent out of all of them and incredibly empathetic and thats something they both respect a whole lot .

dark cacao on the flipside can see how much of a mental toll being empathetic can be

white lily seems to have the most "whole" thought of pv - which would make sense, she's been with him the longest and has seen every facet that is pv. but even still her worries that he's too trusting of her are eating away at her thoughts- as such a pv shapeshifter made of her subconscious Would be way more naive .

in my head white lily's pv would be the last shapeshifter and in order to tell the difference between them white lily would ask if he ever doubted her . the real pv would say that he definitely struggled and had been lost and confused- but ultimately trusts her above all else . vs the shapeshifter who would just say "no I'd never doubt you" .

i didnt have room for it but i think dark cacao also recognizes hollyberrys seriousness . if you get drunk with someone enough times you'll start to piece together the really vulnerable moments you had with eachother . i think hollyberry and dark cacao have the closest relationship and im not saying this because im in love with both of them

golden cheese has a bit of a recollection issue and you can see that with hollyberry + cacao the most. golden cheese reminisces a Lot and that affects how she remembers the othera . hollyberrys is a bit of a trickier thing but in this instance golden cheese doesnt remember the braids. she knows hollyberry has a different outfit than before but doesn't pay it much mind

you might have noticed the pattern at this point of pure vanilla having a bit of a cutesy interpretation of all the ancients. he loves his friends so much that he has a bit of a harder time being critical of them. he thinks dark cacaos seriousness/grumpiness is endearing. to be honest its partly an inverse of shadow milks interpretation of the ancients (simple and positive vs simple and negative) but that wasnt entirely intentional. just interesting to notate now that im thinking of it

hollyberrys dark cacao is a bit of an inverse also to what i was talking about with dark cacaos hollyberry . shes seen the sweeter more heartfelt side of dark cacao and that shines through to her

if it wasnt for the outfit + hair, golden cheese's dark cacao would have probably been the last shape shifter standing

and i will stand by the dragon cacao headcanon till the day i die

golden cheese's was fun to think about bc of the little details that are different between the different shapeshifters- specifically in the neck area (bc thays the only portion you guys get to see) . dark cacaos is a bit more of a hanbok style, white lily has a turtleneck thing kind of happening, etc etc. i think pure vanilla has the most accurate idea of what she looks like .

i think white lilys interestingly enough would be the last one standing because i honestly dont think her golden cheese would even be talking with her :(( so we'd only really find out the difference when white lily's gc is forced to talk to her . white lily thinks that gc hates her and wants her gone but golden cheese's feelings are wayy wayyy more complicated. golden cheese doesn't want white lily gone she Is glad that she's back but its also hard. everything she loves is gone right now . but she's going to find a way to get it back- and if white lily can help than maybe that'll rekindle their relationship.

the cuteification beam still reaches for white lily despite how much pv knows her . i doubt this would help with white lilys feelings that pv is being naive bc shes looking at a shapeshifter based off of pvs subconscious and that subconscious is showing so mucy nostalgia it probably hurts

hollyberry in the past probably really babied white lily + pure vanilla because she Knows theyre not eating . shes observant as hell and will always demand they have at least one bite of something in order to figure out if they're Really "not hungry".

the last one would probably land on golden cheese's bc again . her feelings are complicated and as such her subconscious would showcase that multifaceted issue of "knowing this is your friend and also knowing your friend is responsible for your kingdoms destruction".

#📗; my post #💚; art tag #r; 🪻 #r; 🍻 #sorry to the 3 others im not dating ill figure tags one day maybe #cookie run kingdom #cookie run #pure vanilla cookie #hollyberry cookie #dark cacao cookie #golden cheese cookie #white lily cookie

[the-s1lly-corner]

How about digital circus x princess! Reader with their very own castle. Elegantly leaning out of their tower singing lullabies for anyone to hear. Ps Keep up the great work 👍

TADC cast x princess!reader

I know I usually stress that I answer stuff chronologically but I misread this as just jax (I'm sleepy!!) So I went to search for a princess reader post i did weeks ago, snagged the link then reread the request and saw it was the whole cast... but I've already committed to the bit by searching for the link sooooooooo

CAINE:

You and I both know hes goinv to use the fact ypure a princess for IHA... captured princess trope stuff, basically! So have fun with that! Absolutely loves your singing, so so much. Probably joins in with you, complimenting your part..or perhaps he hums.. other princesses have cute fairytale animals accompanying them, and you have..... bubble..... huh....

Really ups the whole... act when talking to you.. bows deeply, waves his arm around in a grand fashion when showing you to a room, ect ect ect

POMNI:

Has probably subconsciously/accidentally said you were pretty outloud. Gets absolutely lost in the sauce when you sing. Like just stands there, hands awkwardly clasped together in front of her as she listens. Probably sways side to side too. Gets very pink when talking to you, her face does the O^O thing... absolutely smitten

RAGATHA:

Ah my favorite, royal princess x common lady... well, at least aesthetically... whether or not you're royalty in the real world is debatable... anyways, that aside, I think this is probably one of my favorite ship dynamics... I love.. similar to pomni she is very bad at hiding her feelings around you. Tends to stare with a blushing face. Loves making you dresses; assuming you can swap out dresses considering the whole "their clothes are attatched to their bodies" thing

While I doubt your clothing can rip or tear thanks to the properties of the digital world, I think if she could, she would patch up any holes

KINGER:

Honestly I think out of this entire post, kinger is the only one who gets a platonic/found family take on this... just an old king and his princess kid. Again I'm not sure if he truly believes he royalty or if he was trying to appeal to the gloink queen by saying "as a royal myself.." but.. honestly I like the idea that he just likes playing the part. Like he knows hes not royalty but. You know? Let this man embellish himself

Pillow fort? No, pillow TOWER! No... pillow CASTLE! Pillow kingdom!!!

Nothing too hyped specific here he's just your dad here

ZOOBLE:

Oh? Cool. I mean your singing isnt really their cup of tea, they look like they're into alt/indie stuff tbh...maybe rock. Confession I'm terrible at identifying genres so I'm literally speaking out of my ass rn on what type of music zooble would listen to I'd have to list specific artists and songs

But this isnt about that

Depends on what kind of princess you are

If you're independent, resourceful, and badass I think you guys could build some chemistry

If you're like, damsel in distress, ,kind of stuck up, whiny, prissy, ect then it's a hard no

Not many ideas here tbh <\3

GANGLE:

Also thinks you're very pretty! Also loves your singing! I think she grew up on disney films, and even if she doesnt remember them it's still a core memory that like. is kind of instinctive atp. So she finds comfort around you, you know? LOVE that trope btw, where a character doesnt remember something but still finds comfort in it while not fully understanding why because as far as they know this is the first time with the thing

Absolutely melts if you compliment her. Sure, she would still melt if you weren't a princess.. but having someone so pretty and graceful saying it hits a certain way for her

JAX:

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

[beelsbignaturals]

HoL and their preferred cuddling styles?

AN: omg posting twice a day look at me go! I WAS gonna queue this but I have no patience sometimes. Also lmk if anyone is interested in a part two with the undateables!

😴SNUGGLY DEMONS💗

Lucifer wants to be the little spoon so damn bad but would rather die than admit it. Please just hold him. If you can ignore his grumbles of "Honestly, MC, I am not a child!" One of two things will happen. Either you let go, to which Luci will respond with an indignant. "I didn't say you could stop." Or if you are a little more persistent, after a small huff, Lucifer will relax in your arms. Regardless, you will have an all-powerful demon melting into your embrace by the end of it. He also enjoys when you plop yourself down on his lap while he deals with another never-ending mountain of paperwork. Don't worry, he's happy to work around you if you just promise to stay. It makes the long hours much more tolerable. 

Mammon loves resting his head on you, using your body as a pillow. Doesn't matter if it's your chest, thighs, stomach, or shoulder. You are the great Mammon's personal headrest. That is your sole purpose in life. Why does he like it so much? Well, aside from the fact it usually leads to your hands gently massaging his scalp, it also means he only has to tilt his head just a little to press a quick kiss to your skin. If you do the same, laying your head against him while watching a movie or just in general, Mammon will probably freeze for a moment before his hands find themselves in your hair. 

Leviathan is way too embarrassed and also just overwhelmed by physical contact at first. If you want any hope of something that resembles cuddling before you have managed to convince Levi you're not pretending to be into him as a joke, you will need to initiate. Try linking your arm through his while he is playing on his NintenDevil Switch. He'll short-circuit but recover when you say you just want to watch him play. He can only handle so much tactile stimulation before he taps out and needs to lay in the dark for 1-3 business days to recharge so please just… when he shakes you off without blushing and stuttering that's your cue to listen. Once Levi is comfortable enough with you to sleep in either your room or his bedtub, you become his replacement body pillow. Sometimes, he will subconsciously wrap his tail around you in his sleep.

Satan tends to sit in strange positions while reading so honestly, just… wherever you can fit. Find a way to squeeze into his arms without blocking the book, and you're golden. He's upside-down with his legs over the back of the couch? Lay your head on his stomach. Sitting like some sort of contortionist? Wrap your arms around him from behind. Sitting like a normal person for once? That is an invitation, my friend! It's his way of saying, "Get over here and cuddle me now or else." He tends to stay up late reading so… if you are the type to cuddle at night, I will pray for your poor spine.

Asmodeus loves you, but he needs space. Beauty sleep is important! If you share a bed, he wants to hold your hand to feel close to you, but he has to lay on his back so his overnight mask can do its thing without making a mess. You will just need to get by with entwining your fingers with his as you both drift off. He's happy to cuddle up with you any other time, though! If you are lounging anywhere, your lap is fair game for the Avatar of Lust. He can and will sit on your lap regardless of the situation. It's his favorite spot, after all. 

For practical reasons, Beelzebub prefers to cuddle you in a way that, when he inevitably gets up for a midnight snack, it won't disturb you too much. But if it won't bother you too much, he loves it when you lay on his chest. He will even go the extra mile and carry you along for his late night kitchen raids. He's strong enough that he can hold you in one arm and his food in the other. Also! Cuddling so that his arms are wrapped around you and you are curled up against him, facing the demon. For the love of all that is good in this world! Just let the man hold you! Beel is just a giant teddy bear. Like the one from ikea. Feel free to initiate cuddles any time, any place. Just watch out for an annoyed Belphie who is not impressed you took his spot as Beel's favorite cuddle buddy.

Belphegor moves around so much in his sleep. The ONLY way to stop this is to fully lay your entire weight on top of him. Like a living, breathing weighted blanket. Careful though, he might get so used to your presence that he will demand you join him because he's just oh so tired but he can't sleep without you sprawled out, completely crushing the demon underneath you. Alas, sometimes your efforts are for naught, and in the middle of the night, sloth incarnate has completely flipped the two of you. And… somehow, he's also upside-down? It's rather hard to sleep with a kneecap digging into your ribs. The picture you managed to get of Belphie hugging your legs like a teddy bear is totally worth it.

#om! shall we date #obey me #obey me mc #obey me x reader #shrimp writes #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphie x reader