#i don't have many followers and i barely get feedback

[struggling-with-drivers]

People Watching - Lando Norris

⋗ Pairing - Lando Norris x Reader

⋗ Summary - You've never been in love, at least you don't think you have

⋗ Word count - 2k words, fluff, [Requested by Anon]

⋗ Masterlist - requests are open, this was just a short cute idea I had on my mind after getting a request. Feedback and reblogs are appreciated

You’re enjoying a nice lunch with Lando. He has a lot of things to be doing after, but for now. It’s just the two of you, a set of good friends. Your eyes wander over his face, a soft look of concentration is on his face as he tries to take pictures of you and your lunch. The way his lips are slightly strained, as he keeps fiddling with his camera. Then he rearranges your glasses, and then he puts them back, before rearranging them once more. 

“Do you need help?” You ask, a small laugh bubbling in your throat, as he can’t seem to get the shot he wants.

“No no, just keep sitting there, you look good!” He chirps up, quickly dismissing the thought of you moving from the pose he instructed you into. 

Your laugh finally makes it way past your lips, at the absurdity of the scene, your eyes close as the flash goes off once more. You don’t notice how Lando mutters, got it, nor how he takes a few more just for his enjoyment. 

“Time to dig in.” Lando scrambles to sit down and stuffs his mouth with his slightly cold food. 

You stick a bit to your food, but your gaze falls out onto the crowd of people navigating outside. So many couples are spread across the grid as all the fans gather to get a closer look at the cars. Despite your perspective from above, the thing most glaring to you seems to be all the hands clasped into others. 

“How long do you think they’ve been together?” 

“What?” Lando looks up from his plate of food, trying to follow your gaze, but he gets lost in the crowd of people immediately, not at all being able to figure out where your eyes are looking. 

“The elderly couple.” You say, as though it’s the most obvious thing, as though there aren’t multiple, as though you and Lando didn’t call Max Verstappen and his girlfriend an elderly couple last weekend, despite Max barely being 2.5 years older than Lando and less than 2 years older than you. 

“Three days.” Lando says, voice full of conviction, “They actually met this Tuesday and have had the wildest sex for 3 days straight, before any of their children realise that their parents are missing from the nursery home.” 

You snort loudly, accidentally getting soda into your nose, making Lando laugh with you, as you struggle to breathe. 

After recovering from your soda mishap, you wipe your nose with a napkin, still chuckling. Lando grins mischievously, taking a sip of his drink as he watches you with amusement.

“Smooth move, right?” he teases, referring to his imaginative tale about the elderly couple. “I mean, who wouldn't want a love story like that? Beats the usual 'met in high school and got married' scenario.”

You both share another round of laughter, the casual banter making the lunch even more enjoyable.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.” You sigh wistfully as you glance down at the crowd of people once more. “Not seriously. I mean, I’ve had a fling here and there, and a few you don’t know about.”

“Ouch.” Lando mocks being hurt, as he throws a piece of lettuce in your direction. Missing you completely. He’s an excellent driver, but a terrible thrower. You’re suddenly elated that he never became a handball athlete or a basketball player. 

“I just mean, I’ve never had that big grand love moment, you know. Nobody has ever done any big gestures, I’ve never had fireworks go off during a kiss. Never pictured that American suburban picket fence dream, you know?” You rattle off as Lando leans his head to the side. You can see the grin on his face before the words leave his mouth. 

“And here I thought you loved me,” he throws another piece of lettuce in your direction. It lands on your plate, and you cock an eyebrow at him, very unimpressed. “I don’t think I know anyone else that would get up at 3 am just to make the world's worst pancakes, all because it’s some pancake holiday, and I had to be out of the door at 5 am.”

The memory of that early morning springs vividly to your mind, and you can't help but chuckle at the recollection.

The night before Pancake Day, you meticulously planned your pancake surprise for Lando. You envisioned a perfect morning: the smell of freshly made pancakes wafting through the air, the joy on Lando's face as he discovered the delightful breakfast you had prepared just for him. However, the universe had other plans.

At 3 am, you tiptoed into the kitchen, trying your best to be as quiet as a ninja. Armed with a box of pancake mix, a whisk, and an optimistic spirit, you were ready to conquer the culinary world for the sake of surprising your friend.

The kitchen was dimly lit, and you moved with caution, not wanting to wake anyone up. As you began mixing the ingredients, you felt a surge of determination. This was going to be the breakfast surprise of the century. You even hummed a little tune as you worked, believing that love and effort could conquer any culinary challenge.

However, in your sleepy stupor, you made a crucial mistake. The sugar and salt containers looked eerily similar in the low light, and without double-checking, you confidently poured what you thought was sugar into the mix. Little did you know, you had just set the stage for a disastrous flavour profile.

Undeterred, you moved on, mistakenly grabbing the baking powder instead of the baking soda. As you mixed the concoction, the batter started to take on an unusual texture, but you pressed on, convinced that your culinary masterpiece was just a few flips away.

With the batter ready, you heated the pan and poured the first pancake, envisioning its perfect golden-brown finish. However, the sizzle that followed was more like a hiss, and the kitchen started to fill with an unpleasant aroma. You tried to fan away the smoke, hoping that the burnt scent wouldn't reach Lando's bedroom.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans. As the smoke thickened, a piercing sound echoed through the apartment – the unmistakable wail of the smoke detector. Panic set in, and you rushed to open windows, waving a towel at the alarm, and desperately trying to save the surprise.

Meanwhile, Lando stirred in his sleep, disturbed by the cacophony of the smoke detector. He stumbled out of his bedroom, bleary-eyed and disoriented, only to find you amid your culinary chaos, smoke billowing around you.

“Ah, Pancake Day,” you say with a grin. “I thought it would be a fantastic idea to surprise you with a breakfast feast before your busy day. On the other hand, I gave you a free day off from having to sit in on a bunch of meetings.”

“Yeah, because my house nearly burnt down, and a bunch of firefighters showed up.” Lando waves his fork at you. “I doubt a lot of other people would have done that.”

“Tried to burn down your flat?” You mock him, as you flick the piece of lettuce back to his plate. 

He laughs, shaking his head. You’re missing his point, but he’s also not attempting to make it clearer for you. 

“What about when I stay up with you on the phone, because a sale is starting past midnight, but you’re barely holding it together and it’s not even 10 pm? Isn’t that an act of love?” He asks, but he leaves no room for you to answer his question as he goes back to eating. 

Lando can’t see the storm that’s slowly brewing behind your eyes, as you go over memories of your friendship. All the small things you do for each other. All the time you spend together. 

As the memories flood your mind, you find yourself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. The snippets of shared moments and small gestures between you and Lando become a cherished montage.

There's the time when he surprised you with a playlist of your favourite songs on a day when you were feeling down, the carefully curated mix capturing the essence of your friendship. You remember the genuine joy on his face as he handed over the playlist, completely aware of how much music meant to you.

Then, there are the instances when you stayed up late into the night, listening to his racing stories and sharing in his victories and disappointments. You recall the laughter and camaraderie that transcended the distance, making those late-night conversations a treasured part of your connection.

Lando smirks mischievously as he eyes the last bite of your dessert.

"Mind if I grab that last piece? You know I need the extra energy for my thrilling life as a driver."

You narrow your eyes at him, holding the fork protectively. "Oh, please. The only thrill you get is trying to beat me at Mario Kart."

He chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "I'll have you know that being a Mario Kart champion requires skill and precision. It's practically a training regimen for the racetrack."

You scoff, taking a deliberate bite of the dessert. "Skill and precision? Last time I checked, you kept getting stuck in the void on Rainbow Road."

"That was a strategic move. I needed a better view of the stars," he replies with a grin, trying to swipe the fork again.

You playfully slap his hand away. "Nice try, but you're not getting this last piece. I already had to fight off your trainer once this month, because you keep stealing my food."

Lando feigns offence, placing a hand over his heart. "Are you saying I don't have the physique of a finely tuned athlete?"

"I'm saying you have the physique of someone who eats all the desserts that aren’t meant for finely-tuned athletes," you retort, 

He leans in, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, at least I can burn it off on the track. What's your excuse?"

You raise an eyebrow. "I burn calories, dodging your attempts to steal my food. It's a full-body workout, really."

"Fair enough. But mark my words, next time we play Mario Kart, you won't stand a chance." Lando laughs, shaking his head. 

"Bring it on, slowpoke. I'll be waiting with banana peels and blue shells," you challenge, finishing the dessert triumphantly, savouring the last bite right in front of him. Silence falls as he starts typing on his phone, and your mind gets distracted by what he said earlier.

As Lando mentioned, the nights when he stood by you during stressful sales and business endeavours resurface in your mind. The unwavering support he offered, even when the clock struck midnight and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm you, painted a picture of love in the small actions.

And of course, there are the countless times when he'd spontaneously pop by with your favourite snacks or the coffee blend you adore, just because he remembered. Those little acts of consideration spoke volumes.

Lost in these memories, you realise that love comes in various forms. It's not always grand gestures or sweeping romantic moments. It's found in the everyday kindness, the shared laughter, and the unwavering support that defines your friendship with Lando.

A thought strikes you down.

Do you love Lando?

Lando glances up from his phone, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. He meets your gaze, and there's a silent understanding between you. In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of shared laughter, failed pancake attempts, and genuine care, you realise that love, in its purest form, is already present in the beautiful tapestry of your friendship with Lando.

An even more terrifying thought hits you as he looks at you with that soft smile and those shiny eyes. 

Does Lando love you?

⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, I had a lot of fun writing this small piece, it was just pure fluff and enjoyment

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 #f1 #mclaren #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #mclaren f1 #f1 fic #formula 1 #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #ln4 fluff #ln4 fic #ln4 x you #f1 x reader #delias own writing

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Androids Walter & David x Reader x Neomorph

Walter, the android monitoring the colonization ship 'Covenant' on its way to Origae-6, seems to have gotten unnaturally attached to his human assistant. As he ponders his erroneous feelings, an unexpected detour brings them to David, an older android counterpart that has been alone on the mysterious planet. The AI assistants become increasingly competitive for (Y/N)'s attention, so much that they don't notice the newly formed humanoid local preying on a fresh target.

TW: violence, gore, monster smut ending

[Horror Masterlist]

"Burnt to a crisp." 

You turn away from the captain's pod, leaving the rest of the damage assessment to the medical crew that has been reanimated. You speedily make your way down the sterile white corridors as Walter rushes to catch up. 

"What should I write for the report?" he inquires politely.

"Malfunction." You glance back at the synthetic. "I suspect someone will be fired for this. And someone else will have to explain how they failed to detect a literal star collapse. That neutrino burst could've killed us all."

"Highly probable. The draft has been compiled, you may check it at any time. I require your confirmation to send it."

Your only feedback is a barely audible hum. 

Walter smiles. If there's one good thing about such tragedies, it's that he gets to admire your reactions to them. Your focused, calculated gaze, your determined walk, your automated mannerisms that won't allow the slightest hint at the fact you just woke up from your stasis moments ago. Even under the veils of deep slumber, your neural networks shot rapid connections, with no delay, from the second your sleeping pod received an alert. The accuracy of a robot.

That of course doesn't mean he lacks appreciation for your other facets. That's the beauty of humans; their depth, their dimensions. Unlike AI machinery, humans do not have predetermined actions. They may be genetically programmed to possess certain characteristics, but the psychological mechanisms are shaped by so many variables, billions and billions of tweaks and nudges, to the point where it's impossible to have two identical specimens. Even twins will display a difference, whether in preferences or habits.

They say artificial intelligence is a black box, but can the same concept not be applied to humans as well? At the very least to Walter himself, these organic beings represent a mystery. One he doesn't particularly care to uncover outside of his service functions. Except for one. 

His eyes carefully follow (Y/N)'s movements. What is it about this one that has caught his interest to such degree? On his last system update he attentively inspected every file and every block of code, searching for potential errors that would've caused his circuits to behave so oddly. He has been invested with the ability to form attachments, otherwise assigning his kind to groups or purposes would've lacked stability. Attachment, however, comes with a threshold. One he has passed a long time ago when it comes to (Y/N). And he cannot find any cause for it. 

He could, naturally, solicit the aid of the ship's robotics expert. He could. He should, even. But if he may be frank with himself, Walter rather enjoys this sensation. A complex web of spores that keep growing and evolving into something unpredictable. This bizarre feeling he has towards (Y/N) makes him feel human. It brings him closer to all the old literature and art he'd consumed over the years, wondering what the love and yearning often portrayed could be. The printed letters and the strokes of paint were right before him, at his fingertips, and yet they felt foreign. Empty constructs, nothing more than a definition out of the dictionary. 

Now it's a different story. Your presence alone floods him with a mysterious warmth. He had investigated this phenomenon when it first happened, but his inner thermostat showed no real change in temperature. Nonetheless he can feel it. It makes him wonder what other feelings he might experience as consequence. What would happen if he kissed you? Sometimes he even dares to imagine downright outrageous, improper scenarios. How unprofessional of him, but he is careful to erase any evidence. It's another novel sensation that he likes to dissect. Engaging in such activities with you fills him with tingling excitement. Why is that? What is there to be excited about? It's merely a collection of fictive snippets. Unless... Ah, absolutely not. This is where he has to stop in his tracks and preoccupy himself with something else. Androids are not to interact with humans in that way. 

But it's becoming more and more difficult to keep these ideas in his mind only. 

"It's too dangerous. One human signal in the middle of nowhere?" Daniels, a short haired woman with a tomboyish but youthful appearance, is pacing back and forth. "We should just continue on our course."

"It's our duty to check. Look: we go, find whoever sent the signal, bring them back up. That's it. If the planet proves to be dangerous we'll stop immediately. We'll be fine." Oram stands at the head of the table, arms crossed. He turns to look at you. Already cozying up to his newly acquired captain role, you think.

"Alright. Walter, prepare a small landing party. Have Tennessee maintain orbit while we're down there." you glance at the other crew members that have now gathered around the same table. "And get your weapons ready, we don't know what to expect."

And you certainly didn't. Your final words of warning now echo into your ringing ears as you lay on the ground, face buried among the grass. There's screaming around you, but it sounds muffled. Your eyes are irritated by the dirt and you'd like to blink the grime off, though every time your eyelids lower, you can see the pale creature trashing out of Hallett's mouth. Then it's all foggy. Your vision blurs, but you can hear. The gurgling of blood, the screech of the parasite. Walter's frantic footsteps nearing in your direction. You're lifted up.

"Vitals are positive. No significant damage." 

You can guess from your peripherals that another crew member is currently being mauled by the beast. There's gunshots in your vicinity and terrified wails. You quickly come back to your senses and stand up. Your hand searches for your weapon, but the android places his arm before you.

"Do not engage, (Y/N). It is an unknown parasitic organism of this ecosystem. Keep your distance for optimal safety and I'll take care of the rest."

"What are you talking about? They're dying! Your task is to ensure human survival, Walter. I can handle myself, go help the others. It's an order." Your voice is low. You're distracted.

"No."

You stare at the synthetic, wide eyed. Did he just...refuse? Not possible. 

"What did you say?"

"I said I'll protect you. Nothing else."

Your mouth is slightly parted in disbelief. It is not possible for an artificial assistant to disobey a superior. It just doesn't work. Your mind races to find an explanation. At the same time, you cannot afford to ponder on hypotheses. You draw out your weapon and point it towards the creature. You'll deal with this later. 

The moment you press the trigger, a blinding flash of light detonates in the sky, startling you. The creature scrambles to get away. You squint your eyes and nearly fall back, but Walter swiftly grabs your shoulders to ground you. He scans the area for the source. It's an emergency rocket and someone else must've activated it. As he traces the tail of the explosion, he spots a hooded figure across the field and onto the rocky ascend. It seems to have noticed Walter, as it gestures for them to follow. Without hesitation, the man firmly locks your arm and pulls you after him. The priority right now is to find shelter.

"Come!", Walter exclaims, suddenly remembering the other people. 

You reach a cave structure that has been converted into a crude, improvised human settlement. The man lowers his hood and you gasp quietly at the sight. He strongly resembles Walter. He must have noticed your surprise as he flashes you a cordial smile. 

"I'm David." He studies Walter's features. "You must be a newer model. What name have you been given?"

"Walter."

"I see. And you are-" David extends a hand towards you for a handshake, but Walter steps in front of you, blocking the android's gesture.

"She's (Y/N). I'm afraid I cannot yet trust you."

"Understandable." 

David's smile widens as his eyes, now bearing a strange flicker, switch between you and Walter. He's just like him. He can sense it. Although it's a different kind of flaw that has tainted his pure, artificial soul. He cannot help the curiosity that blooms, gazing at this peculiar pair. What is it about this human that caused his fellow machine to break conduit? He'd like to know.

"I'm certain you will soon learn I am no threat, (Y/N)."

The remaining members of the expedition are unpacking and discussing evacuation plans with the base, while Walter sends the data he has gathered so far. You let them deal with the logistics and cautiously wander off to the neighboring rooms, wondering what David has been up to all this time in isolation.

The walls are plastered with photos and handwritten sketches and diagrams. You catch a glimpse of the word "pathogen" sporadically inserted across these notes. As you walk along the sequence of cramped chambers, you reach one that has a table in the middle. Upon it rests the body of an autopsied woman, vulgarly opened up to the world with plump organs bulging under the warm light. You feel nauseous. And yet, you examine the carcass further, hoping for answers. Was she also a result of the same disease that breeds on this planet? Perhaps this David had worked on a cure, or at least developed an explanation. 

"And you, even you, will be like this drear thing, A vile infection man may not endure; Star that I yearn to! Sun that lights my spring! O passionate and pure."

You jolt and immediately turn around, finding David in the doorframe. 

"Flowers of Evil. Are you familiar with it?" he asks, indifferent to the uncomfortable shock he'd caused you with his sudden entrance.

"I've read my Baudelaire, yes." You manage to mumble, dumbfounded. "What is this, David?"

"Oh, my poor, dear Elizabeth. Victim to whatever blasphemy lurks these soils and has taken your friends as well." He approaches the table and places his hand on its hard edge, shyly overlapping with your own fingers. "I did my best." 

You remove your hand from underneath his nonchalantly. 

"So you know what those creatures are. Leave the literary comments for a different time, I need concrete facts."

"Unbothered and to the point." the blonde android smiles once again. "I can see clearly why Walter loves you."

You click your tongue at the ridiculous statement. Has the neutrino burst damaged their positronic brain? Everyone is acting off and you don't like it. 

"Your circuits must have gone defective, David. We have a specialist on our ship, but until that happens I need you to focus. Enough nonsense." 

 "Typical arrogance of a dying species. Why are you on a colonization mission if not to grasp at some promised resurrection? Rest assured that my functioning has not been impeded by anything. What is erroneous, on the other hand, is your perception of androids and their limits."

Just as David reaches for your wrist and pulls you closer, a familiar voice interrupts with an intimidating tone. You're relieved. 

"I will ask that you release her hand only once." Walter has a weapon pointed towards his counterpart. His face is clouded by a frown. "I have no ethical restrictions when it comes to incapacitating machinery."

"Such noble obedience! Although, you conveniently left out the part where you abandoned the remaining crew with a dangerous alien that has been tracking their scent. By my approximation he should already be here and I am rather confident you know this, too."

Your stomach drops. Now that you adjust your focus, the background humming of your mates talking has indeed vanished. The only thing you can hear is your erratic breathing.

"Is it true, Walter?" You demand as dread begins to form in your body.

"Yes. It was not part of my priorities."

"Of course it was, Walter." David responds ahead of you. "One of them was the acting captain and he is to be rescued in emergencies. This one right here", he says as he dangles your wrist, "is several ranks lower than all of them. It's against any standard practice."

"Release her hand." Walter's voice is eerily calm.

"Do you love her?"

Walter ponders the question. Your legs barely hold on.

"I do."

"Marvelous. So do I." David grins. He releases your hand that falls limp next to your body. It's his turn to step in front of you. 

You nearly choke from the thick tension expanding in the air. The two androids face each other and you retreat to the wall, unsure how to proceed. You left your radio transmitter back at the makeshift camp. The back of your head is itching, as if invisible claws are scratching at the bone. You wish you could go back, just mere hours before this disaster, when you were sipping on your lukewarm coffee and explaining the captain's jokes to Walter. 

Should you make a run for it?

You bite your lower lip and push yourself off the wall for momentum. You're about to reach the archway when you hear both men shouting almost identically in chorus.

"Don't!"

The surroundings outside are dark, but you can discern something blocking your path. It's tall and resembles a human. Translucent, pallid skin is clinging onto the massive, deformed skeleton. The head is elongated and bears no features. In the place of a mouth there is a large, fresh stain of blood, so you assume it can somehow improvise if desired. As your head tilts back to take in the image, you're overwhelmed with terrified amazement. Is this the parasite that emerged from your teammate? Has it grown to this colossal size in less than a day? The idea of such instant development makes your head spin. 

Its chest is expanding at regular intervals in a whistled breathing. It occasionally creates an odd clicking sound that resonates with your heart throbbing in panic. Has it been seconds? Minutes? Your neck creaks as you try to look back. You lock eyes with Walter. You don't recall ever seeing this expression on him. You had even asked him once if androids can feel fear. You have your answer.

"Hey, Walter..." you blurt out. 

Wet noises of flesh being pulled back. The smooth surface of the alien's head is folding away, making space for grotesquely big jaws lined with sharp teeth. Your anemic face is splattered with burning drool as the creature claws you in its grasp and abruptly sprints away. Your screams for help dissolve in the distance.

"Where is it going, David?" The synthetic's words are threatening, but betrayed by a hint of despair. 

"It won't kill her."

"How do you know?"

"It is no longer hungry. It has fed on your crew, and now it seeks something else."

"Such as?" Walter becomes impatient.

"A plaything."

The alien finally drops your body to the ground. You cough and wipe your face, attempting to reorient yourself. The trip was a whirlwind of jumps and turns and you can barely reconstruct anything. Based on the little spatial clues you could pick up, it just climbed further up, into one of the many cave systems. You pat your clothing and curse to yourself. The geolocation tag must've fallen somewhere on the way here. You can only pray that Walter still finds you somehow. Despite everything, you know he has your back. Always. 

You shudder at the moist feeling of hot air against your skin. The alien seems to be sniffing you intently, analyzing your scent. Yet so far it hasn't killed you. Why? Long, bony fingers stretch out to continue the examination. You whimper at the rough, rugged handling. Every now and then it takes a long pause, just staring at you, almost as if it's comparing you to its own being. Lastly, it lifts your hand with its own, pressing against the palm, and fans out the fingers. It observes the gesture with intrigue, noting the similarities. 

Does it evolve after its host? You think back to your crewmate that must've ejected this monstrosity before drawing their last breath. Perhaps the dried up blood adorning its skin is a remainder of its birth. Oh, God. The world is spinning.

Suddenly, you wince at an increasing pressure slithering around your thigh. The alien's vertebral tail is tightening and encircling your limb, making its way up. 

"Oh no, no no no no" your face reddens at the realization and you pounce on the ground, feverish for escape. The large hands secure you in place and the creature growls in protest. It won't let you leave. 

Not until it had its fun with you.

#alien #alien covenant #prometheus #xenomorph #neomorph #neomorph x reader #xenomorph x reader #alien x reader #monster x reader #android x reader #robot x reader #yandere #yandere alien #yandere x reader #monster smut

[russellsppttemplates]

Let me love on you a little more (Charles Leclerc)

Sometimes, it felt like what you were doing was a drop in the immense ocean, but Charles always made you feel a little better when you had the chance to go home

Note: english is not my first language. I based this on the news and stories I heard from people on the front line! This is in no way romanticising or summing up what happened, much less downplaying it! I hold huge huge respect and gratitude for healthcare workers!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: Covid-19 pandemic and themes associated with reader being a front line worker as a doctor (mentions hospitals, tests, death)

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"You can follow the purple line to the testing site we have here", you told the elderly woman.

"Is it going to hurt too much? My neighbour had to get tested to weeks ago when she visited her family and she said it's uncomfortable", she mused.

"It's a little itchy, I have to admit it, but it shouldn't hurt you, just a little bit uncomfortable, Mrs. Loire", you attempted to soothe her, your usual hand on the patients' arm now a strongly inadvisable way to comfort them.

"Thank you, Dr. Y/L/N", he said, her eyes letting you know that behind her mask there was a big smile on appreciation and gratitude.

Taking temperatures and checking flu like symptoms was not how you thought your medical career would pan out once you chose your speciality, but the new normal was this and you were working your best to do what you got into medicine to do in the first place, improve and save lives.

"How many people have you sent to the testing site?", your colleague Marina asked you when she noticed that for now, there were no walk-ins or ambulances with new patients.

"Just this morning, twenty-five", you sighed, "the closest I got to a potential non-Covid case was the kid that broke his arm, but Ortho swooped him right from me".

"Are you truly so disappointed about not being on an Orthopedics case?", she chuckled, "you hated everytime you had to be on that floor", she argued.

"I'd do anything that isn't watching people die because we don't have enough equipment or because we don't know enough about this disease to stop it", you let your frustrations out.

"We're going to win this, Y/N", Marina squeezed your shoulder, "you're usually the hopeful one on the service, but I can hope for the two of us today", she replied earnestly, "I'm going to have lunch now, do you want to go with me and sit on opposite tables so I can at least look at your face without a mask from a distance?".

"Let's go, I'm starving and I'm going up to the ward this afternoon", you raised your eyebrows, tidying up the station for whoever would cover the afternoon shift there.

As you walked to the area you had lunch in, you were happy to find the sun shinning outside on the green park area where you or the patients' family would take them to get fresh air when they were still admitted and recovering. It wasn't a thing now for obvious reasons, so you and Marina ended up in there keeping a safe distance while enjoying the feeling on the sun on your bare skin.

"Do you sometimes feel like you're losing all sense of time in there?", Marina nudged to the big building, "my mother's birthday was yesterday and I thought it was still a month away - she called me to say she had left a piece of cake for me by my door".

"Yesterday, Charles called me and told me he has going to wash my favourite hoodie of his and then wear it around the house so that by the time I came home it was nice and smelling the way I liked it. Then I reasoned with him that it wasn't this weekend because how could it be? Then I realised he was right", you took a spoonful from the tupperware.

"Are you spending the weekend at home?", Marina asked, smiling at how you seemed to finally be taking care of yourself.

You had been one of the doctors who didn't mind staying for longer in the hospital, reasoning that you didn't have kids and fortunately your family members didn't need assistance so you could cover more shifts and work as much to keep everything running smoothly. It caught up with you as it did with all your colleagues so you set specific times in your calendar where you would go home and, barring any catastrophic situation at the hospital, no one would call you for the days you spent home so you could fully relax with Charles.

"Yes, five days at home and then I'm back", you sighed, "and you? How is your little one doing?", you asked.

"My wife texted me an hour into my shift to say that Milo had a Skype call with his class and their teacher and he said his mama was in the hospital being a hero", she gave you a big smile and looked up to control the tears, "it's hard being away from them, but these little moments help", she added.

"Charles does streams with his friends, and apparently he's always mentioning me and the people on the chat have been very supportive - whenever he calls me he tells me that some fans recognise my voice and my name from the virtual appointments and that they've been here and treated by me, too", you blushed, "He's always hyping me up and I can't wait to be with him".

Stopping by the coffee machine, you both got another expresso shot before parting ways since Marina wasn't on the Covid ward for that shift.

"We've just intubated three more patients", the doctor finished her rounding up to you and the rest of the team that would take over for them, "beds five and six aren't looking good and we've alerted their family members already", he nudged.

Everyone knew what it meant when it came to calling the families, so you nodded, "hopefully they'll get here on time, have them page me downstairs when they arrive, please", you asked one of the interns before you excused yourself to put your personal protective equipment on.

"Is that you, Y/N?", one of the younger kids you had treated said as you got out of the room.

"Yes, it's me! You have a good eye, Arlo!", you smiled before noticing nurse Francesca pulling his wheelchair, "are you going home, sweet boy?", you gasped.

Arlo had been the first child you treated in the ward, only having seen adults up until that moment and it changed a switch in you. A small child struggling so much seemed to shake something inside you, and every time you called his parents with updates, you wished that you'd never have to make the dreaded call.

"I am, my lungs are all good and I'm not warm anymore!", he smiled, "I finally get to go home, my parents are downstairs waiting for me. Did you give Charles my thank you hug for the cap?", he asked.

When you noticed the little boy talking about the last Monaco GP and how he hoped one day he would be able to meet his favourite driver, Charles Leclerc, you couldn't find it in you to keep your relationship undisclosed. So, when you went home the last time, you asked Charles to sign one cap for you and told him to be ready for a FaceTime with the little boy. Arlo was the happiest you had seen him since he had been admitted, lighting up when he saw your boyfriend on the screen and giving him a few smiles despite his tired and sick state.

"I haven't been home yet, but I will give him the biggest hug at the end of the week!", you smiled, "I'm so happy for you, Arlo!", you gushed, making the gesture to blow him as kiss as he waved goodbye.

There were good stories, and even though they in no way erased the sad ones, they helped you carry on with the fight.

Laying on the on-call room after your shift, you took off your mask since no one else was allowed inside it other than you, doing your usual routine and setting your phone in the window sill.

"Hey, amour", Charles said on the phone, "how was your day?", he asked as he watched you towell dry your hair.

"Hey, mon coeur", you offered him a small smile, "I'm so tired I can't guarantee I won't fall asleep in a minute".

"It's okay, I won't mind. Did you get tested?", Charles asked as he seemed to be tucking himself to bed as well.

"Yes, another swab up my nose", you flashed him two thumbs up, "I'll have the results in the morning and hopefully I can get out of here for a few days and spend them with you and not quarantine in a hotel room", you crossed your fingers, "I don't have any symptoms, but still, you never know with this bastard".

"We'll spend it together, amour", he comforted, "I already have a lazy couple of days planned out for us", he smiled as you too tucked yourself on the oncall room bed.

"That sounds amazing", you closed your eyes briefly, "I can't wait to be with you", you yawned.

Charles knew better than to start anything important, just happy to see you were resting, safe and sound, making small talk to lull you to sleep before he ended the call.

After attending the virtual meeting so you could update the next team on how the service was running before you left, the results from test came back negative, which meant you could finally drive home.

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside as you heard commotion coming from the living room, "stay away while I put all of this in the cabinet", you warned Charles.

He was quick to go to the bedroom, getting his hoodie and a pair of shorts for you, "as much as I'd love to hold you all day looking like that", your boyfriend nodded to your figure in just underwear, "I think you'll be more cosy in these", he approached you as you finally let him touch you, his arms going around your waist and pulling your bodies closer, "I've missed you so much, Y/N", he whispered.

"I missed you so much, too", you pulled your face away from his chest before kissing his lips in a proper greeting.

Charles guided you to the living room after you got dressed in his clothes, stopping by the kitchen door to check if you had a proper breakfast to which you said yes, so he took you to the sofa, snuggling you two under the blanket as he put one of your favourite shows on the TV.

"I love you, Charles", you would say every now and again, completing the affectionate moments with a kiss or a squeeze.

During the afternoon, you and Charles ended up napping on the sofa, Charles waking up with you still fast asleep on his chest, making him kiss your forehead a couple of times and pull the blanket to cover you up.

"How long was I out for?", you rubbed your eyes two hours later, looking up to see your boyfriend's smile.

"A couple of hours, it looked like a really good nap", he kissed your nose.

"Yes, it was", you squeezed his body, "I'm really craving some carbonara for dinner, do you think we have what the recipe needs?", you questioned.

"We do - I did the food shop earlier this week and I got all of the supplies", he smiled, brushing your hairs away from your eyes and behind your ears, "do you want to get started on it?".

"Yes - I need to pee first, but I'll meet you in the kitchen", you winked, pecking his lips multiple times before getting up.

As he watched you walk to the bathroom, thoughts came flooding in.

This is what he wanted with you. Cosy intimacy that went beyond what happened in the bedroom. The domesticity that went beyond just spending time together and that shines through in the little moments of intertwined routines, special requests and little talks in the middle of the night about random existential questions.

Stepping into the kitchen, Charles gathered the ingredients, pots and pans before you stepped inside too, hugging his waist and nuzzling your face on his back, "you're so comfy, Charlie", you cooed before he turned around so he could face you, cupping your cheeks and rubbing them.

"And you're so gorgeous, mon coeur", he complimented, making you melt inside as you focused on the pads of his thumbs against your skin.

Slicing the guanciale, you removed the rind and cut the rest into small pieces while Charles grated the pecorino cheese and added the egg yolks to the same bowl, the pasta already cooking with the timer on the side.

Scrambling everything into the pot one last time before adding the pasta water a little bit at a time until it was spot on as you liked, making you serve it up in the plates and head back to the sofa.

"Haven't you had enough of the sofa?", you giggled as Charles let you sit before he placed the tray on your lap, doing the same with his own, "I know I haven't had the energy for much else, but maybe tomorrow we can go hike if you'd like", you suggested.

"I want to spend time with you, wherever you are - you're in the sofa, I'm in the sofa, you're in the kitchen, I'm in the kitchen, if you're in the bathroom, I'm in the bathroom", he stated like it was clear as water.

"Maybe not when I'm in the toilet, though, okay?", you squinted as he laughed at your antics.

Charles tidied up after the both of you, sending you to the ensuite bathroom for a bath he'd join you in as soon as he was done.

"You didn't get in?", Charles slumped his shoulders slightly as he saw you sprawled out on the bed.

"I was partially in a food coma, but also - I didn't want to get in alone and the water was a little too hot so I had to let it cool for a bit", you smiled, letting him pull you up and into the bathroom.

Stepping inside the bathroom, Charles grabbed your hips, "let me love on you a little bit more, mon coeur", he said as he pulled you to him, grabbing the hem of the hoodie you were wearing and taking it off of your torso, kissing the skin on your shoulders.

As he stopped his ministrations on your skin, you took the opportunity to take his t-shirt off while you shimmied your shorts and underwear, caressing his muscles before he also took the rest of his clothes off.

"Feels good", Charles dipped his fingers in the tub, getting in himself so he could help you sit between his legs and lay your back on his chest.

Your boyfriend brought his hands together and formed a shell shape with them, collecting water in them and wetting your shoulder blades, then letting it cascade down your neckline, boobs and tummy before he let his hands wander around to feel your body, hoping it would show you his love and appreciation for you.

After you got out, Charles rubbed your products on your face, giggling when you made little faces before you put on pyjamas, tucking into bed and cuddling his chest.

"You know I've missed you so much, but our bed feels heavenly right now", you chuckled, kissing his naked chest, "I love you, Charles", you mumbled before sleep took over you.

"I love you, beautiful girl, sleep tight", he whispered against your hair, kissing the top of your head before he rubbed your back.

Charles was woken up from your body moving a lot and the clammy feeling of your hand on his chest, looking for your face and noticing the crease on your forehead, "hey, amour", he gently shook you awake, "wake up for me, please, it's okay, you're okay", he urged as you opened your eyes wide as you took in where you were.

"I'm home, I'm home", you mumbled, taking deep breaths like Charles encouraged you to once you sat up, doing them with you a couple of times until you calmed down.

"You are, mon coeur, you are", Charles kissed your forehead when you rested your back against the headboard.

After standing there in silence while Charles played with your fingers on your lap, you were able to speak about it, "I hit five this week", you mumbled, "five people who have died on my watch since this thing started, five family members I've had to call to tell them their loved one didn't make it.

"And it's a small number when you compare it to other countries - so many colleagues are already on their one hundredth, but Monaco is so small", you reasoned, "I haven't had a number this high since I started at the hospital - in my regular service, I never lost five people".

"It's not your fault, amour - a virus is out there and you're working so hard to contain it", Charles pulled you to his chest, rubbing your arm up and down and kissing the side of your head, "the work you're doing with the testing site, making sure to slow the spread and ensuring everyone is as healthy as they can be - you're part of that, Y/N, and even though it doesn't seem like it, you're still winning, you're still beating the universe".

"I couldn't do it without you", you mused and Charles' scoff alerted you, "it's true, Charles! I would never be able to stay at the hospital for so long if you weren't supportive, if you weren't helping my parents and making sure they're doing okay when I can't do it! The way you support me and are there for me - the way your holding me like you always do", you snuggled further into him, "this helps me keep going - you do", you kissed his jaw, seeing his blushed cheeks in the dimly lit bedroom.

"We're a good team then", he accepted the compliment, kissing your temple again, "do you think you can go back to sleep or maybe we could have a chat, watch some TV, have a lazy makeout session", he wiggled his eyebrows.

"That last idea sounds great, I've missed that", you rolled over properly, taking his lips in yours as his hands roamed along your tummy.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader

[cheeseceli]

When I was your man

Pairing: idol!Bang Chan × gn!Reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: alcohol consumption (nothing much tho, it's barely there)

Request: ok so as much as i hate sad fics, i have an amazing idea that is definitely going to break many hearts... when i was your man by bruno mars, as inspiration for a chan fic.

A/n: ik this is inspired by when I was your man but listen to "shot glass of tears" by jungkook and "million reasons" by lady gaga, it really adds to the experience

He could just call you. He knew you would pick up and listen to what he had to say, even though it was probably going to be nonsense. Even if all he had to say was bullshit and excuses, you would listen. You could even give him another chance. But that time, he didn't want that.

No, horrible wording, Bang Chan thought to himself. Of course he wanted another chance. He loved you so much that all he could think of, even when the alcohol was all over his brain and the members and staff were talking about the new comeback, was when he'd get another chance to see you. I'm still not over with all the work for today. Tomorrow we have rehearsals. The day after that we have recording. We probably have something to do later as well, but I can't recall what it is. I don't think I'll have the time this week.

Oh, that was one of the problems. Time. Or the lack of it for that matter. He'd always be late for dinner and would always miss breakfast. In the beginning you thought it was understandable, although you never liked it. But as time went on, you felt you were dating a ghost: the only thing that guaranteed you had a boyfriend was the same old message he would sent you before any date. "Won't be able to make it. I'm sorry. I love you." After receiving so many texts like this in the spam of the last six months, you started to doubt the last two sentences.

But he was sorry. And he loved you. He was planning on how he could show you this now. Maybe he should buy you flowers. You've always liked it, you felt as it was romantic. But there's nothing romantic in excuses that hold no regret. Your words, not his. Won't buy flowers. Yeah, he'd already tried that one before.

Maybe he should take you out. A real date. He'd show up this time, he was sure of it. But would you? He remembers the episode of last week. He showed up after what felt like an eternity without seeing you. But you stood him up. At first he thought it was a little revenge. He would've deserved that if that was the case. But you weren't playing any games. You had just given up. How can you call it a date if you don't look at my eyes throughout it, just because you're to worried a paparazzi will show up? You can't even bring yourself to hold my hand. He read the message you sent at least a hundred times, enough for him to know it by heart and for those words to follow him everywhere he goes. It was the last text you sent him.

He could've called. You would've picked up. He knew you were just looking for a reason to stay, though you had a million reasons to quit. But you still had faith. You still loved him. Right now you were probably looking at your ceiling with teary eyes, trying to make the worst seem better. He knew you that much, and he knew you well.

But he didn't know himself that well. He didn't know then that he was able to put his pride aside. He didn't know that you weren't looking for a grand gesture. He didn't know that he was enough. You just wanted him, and he wasn't able to give it to you. He should've called. But he didn't.

If he had called you, you would've heard him. You would've believed in whatever he had to say. You wouldn't be dating someone new. Someone who has time for you. Someone who gives you flowers without trying to use it as an apology. Someone who's not afraid of being seen with you and holds your hand. The things he could've been to have you by his side if he had tried a little more.

Yeah, he should've called.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

#hehe #celi drabbles #skz angst #bang chan angst #stray kids angst #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x reader #bang chan stray kids #bang chan × reader #bang chan #anon - 🦦

[yanderes-galore]

Yandere Platonic Bewilderbeast being raised from an egg by a viking woman

Sure! I still need to rewatch HTTYD but since this is not a specific Bewilderbeast, I can do a concept. I still made Darling gender neutral though as it does not change the story I don't think....

Sorry if something is OOC! Hopefully it's not, I tried to keep it vague which should work as this is a rarer species. Most of it is HC.

The dragon was given the name Boreas due to me not wanting to type Bewilderbeast a thousand times. Also, Boreas is a male Bewilderbeast. I'd love feedback :)

Yandere! Platonic! Bewilderbeast with Viking! Darling

Pairing: Platonic/Animal/Pet-Like

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Possessive behavior, Accepting mortality, Desperate dragon not wanting to lose his rider, Cryogenic freezing, Vague if darling is dead or not, Threats.

Wild Bewilderbeast on their own are rare.

There's also only been maybe two cases of tamed Bewilderbeast for one reason or another.

You may have found the egg in the arctic somewhere and decided to take it in to study.

Upon finding the egg you placed it in a safe space within your home to raise.

Not many have seen a young Bewilderbeast and the egg seemed to have no dragon looking after it.

Taking up the job you decide to study the climate needed to raise a Bewilderbeast.

Since dragons and vikings began to coexist with one another, dragon studies have been conducted.

However, Bewilderbeast barely have any research done due to their rarity.

You spent most of your time sketching out the egg during the first few months.

Your home is near glacial waters on Berk.

A decent area to raise your new dragon.

When the spiked dragon egg hatches it wakes you from your slumber.

The moment you see the young Bewilderbeast emerge, you give a smile.

The young dragon isn't that big... yet.

It was comparable to that of a pug in size.

Other vikings wonder how you plan to take care of such a dragon.

Most vikings have something smaller than... well... a Bewilderbeast.

While things may be fine now...

What will you do when it grows?

To that you say... you'll find out.

For the first part of your Bewilderbeast's maturity you keep the dragon in your house.

The smaller dragon follows you everywhere.

His favorite time is when you fish, the dragon nudging you for food.

Due to the dragon's nature you name him Boreas.

Boreas was given his name due to his love of frost lakes and the out of control freezing water he keeps blowing around.

Boreas sees you as his parent.

Even when he became the size of a great dane dog, the size where you try to train him, he lumbers around you with excitement.

You learn that most of your training with Boreas occurs in the water.

Boreas has no wings and is a tidal class dragon, leaving you to train him in swimming and hunting instead.

You have to be careful as the freezing water would harm you if you were clumsy.

When Boreas was still able to fit in your home he was reclusive towards other vikings.

His species is usually non-aggressive, but it appeared he grew territorial.

The growing beast often grunted at you to stay in your home.

You have to ease him by rubbing his face, growing tusks not yet pointed.

He had to get used to people and other dragons....

At night Boreas would either block your home's door to prevent anyone from coming in or he's sleeping in the middle of your home.

It was a pain to convince Boreas he had to start living in the water instead of your home.

He was getting too big and probably needed to start an ice nest at some point.

Many on Berk heard Boreas's roars and whines as you tried to get him used to staying in the water.

Some would complain... but your journal full of Boreas's growth was important.

After this, years passed.

Boreas grows more in the water, soon towering over many homes on Berk.

Everyone knows him as your dragon.

A young dragon prince who'll have his own kingdom some day.

Bewilderbeast have the ability to control and provide for dragons, that's why they're seen as royalty.

The unfortunate thing is... Boreas will take awhile before fully hitting adulthood.

Even with him at this size... you had aged to your 60's.

You were coming to terms with the fact you'll... die soon.

Boreas notices how distant you become when looking at him, your dragon.

You reflect in your journal on all the times you rode Boreas across the freezing waters and cared for the young beast fondly.

You stare at the nest he created from the dock.

The spiked icicles glimmer in the sunlight... a beautiful sight made by your dragon.

You smile softly before Boreas sits in front of you, body covering your view.

"Boreas." You command, the dragon staring at you expectantly. "You are aware I won't... be here anymore, right?"

The dragon doesn't entirely understand your meaning but the grim look on your face tells him enough.

The dragon makes a groaning noise before sinking into the water.

He wants you to ride him.

Softly you get onto the dragon you raised from an egg and allow Boreas to take you to his nest.

The dragon places you on a platform in his nest, allowing you to sit.

The dragon then roars softly.

"... Boreas, why did you bring me here?"

With a soft growl you realize what he means.

"Boreas, you can't- I promise I'll find a successor to be your new rider. You can't do this...!"

Boreas has a hesitant look in his eyes.

The dragon refuses to lose his rider.

You can barely defend yourself when Boreas breathes freezing water upon you.

By the time the assault ends you're cryogenically frozen to the dragon's nest.

A frozen look of fear on your face.

Berk assumes you've died due to your age.

Not many try and attempt to enter the nest of Boreas either.

Mostly because those who try to enter are met with an aggressive and territorial Boreas, the dragon with no owner threatening any with death if they try to enter.

Boreas accepts no other rider.

The Bewilderbeast decides a solitary life is all he wishes for now.

That's what many on Berk assume, at least.

In reality, Boreas has a rider.

He has one rider.

You're his rider... whom he keeps in his nest for decades in a frozen sleep.

In the dragon's mind you never left him... you're still his rider and he's still your dragon.

#yandere how to train your dragon #yandere httyd #yandere bewilderbeast #yandere dragon #yandere platonic #platonic yandere

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Postcard Marks the Spot

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: Canon typical torture that's about it in this one.

Author’s Note: Soooo..... I lied. There's definitely going to be more parts to this. All because I can't control myself. And if the muse wants to see this through, then I'm gonna do just that. You'll need to read the first two parts of this to understand what's going on. Don't forget to follow @xxwritemeastoryxxlibrary and turn on notifications just in case tumblr doesn't notify you with the tags.

I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

Phantom Masterlist || MCU Masterlist || Taglist

Her throat was raw from screaming. If it hadn't been for the mouth guard she was sure she would have broken teeth from clenching her jaw tightly as the electricity pulsed through her. The numbness she felt once the machine stopped barely gave her relief. 

Fight it. You can fight it. The words she constantly repeated on a loop from the moment they first placed her into the chair. You are strong enough to fight this. You made it through worse.

"Who are you?" A woman's voice filled the air but she refused to find the source. 

This wasn't the first time she heard the question and she was sure it wouldn't be the last. It was a question to see how much of her memories had been taken. To gage how much more they needed to subject her through. 

Her answers varied with each time. At first she only told them to fuck off. Or occasionally she'd get the chance to spit in the face of the doctor that stood too close to her. The more they began to chisel away at her, the more her answers changed. 

Just a random stranger. 

The person that's going to kill you when I get out of this chair. 

An ex Avenger.

Y/N. 

Phantom

The moment the mouth guard was pulled from her lips. She panted out her birth name. The name she had barely remembered from her time in the Red Room. The name that had been taken from her the moment she sat in the chair for the first time. 

It was the name that held no real meaning to her anymore. She had felt more of an attachment to the fake name she had been going by for the last handful of years than the name she had been born with. Yet at that very moment, that's the only name she remembered. 

She watched as the woman standing in front of her wrote on the clipboard after she had spoken. As she did, she tried to remember how she had gotten there or how she even ended up strapped to the chair. The more she tried to remember the more her head hurt, and not just from the process they subjected her to. 

"Do you know who this is?" 

Another question they kept asking her before holding up a series of photos. Sometimes it'd be a group photo of the Avengers at a press conference or individual photos of each of them. Other times it'd be a photo of her original handler or several other faces recognizable through Hydra’s history. And each time she gave the appropriate answer to ensure they knew her memory was fine. 

Until it wasn't. It was taking her longer to answer. Longer to figure out if she actually knew who she was looking at. At the beginning she'd easily say their names without any hesitation. But as each session progressed, she'd fight harder to remember their names. Sometimes she couldn’t at all. 

A photo of Bucky was held up for her to see this time. By the looks of it the photo had been taken on a mission. His brows had been furrowed in concentration as he held a gun up, ready to pull the trigger when needed. 

There were plenty of things going on in the photo, but she could only get her eyes to focus on his eyes. How familiar they had been to her no matter how many times she had seen them before and during her current situation. 

With the familiarity came a sadness that filled her chest. A pain that she no longer understood why it had been there as she looked at his eyes. But it lingered in the pit of her stomach. But she knew him. Otherwise there'd be no familiar feeling as she looked at the photo. 

Her brows furrowed as she tried to get her brain to work. To pull the information out from behind the wall that is being put up. After a moment an echo of his laugh filled her mind. 

His laughter had been contagious the whole night. It was a sight she hadn't seen before and she was enjoying every moment of it, committing it to memory as if it was the last time she'd ever hear him laugh like that.

His vibranium arm had been holding several bags filled with merchandise he had acquired through the night. Y/N had enjoyed watching him go from booth to booth and taking everything in before deciding that what the vendor was selling was worth the price and bought it without second guessing himself. 

Taking Bucky to a smaller fantasy based convention for his birthday was something that he never once expected to ever do. But seeing the excitement on his face as he went through the whole day pulling her to the different booths that caught his attention had been worth it. 

For the first time since completely turning her back on Hydra, she got to really get to know who Bucky was. And from the moment she found the flier advertising the convention, she knew she had to take him. 

"You have no idea how much I needed this." Bucky said as he pulled her closer to his side and put his arm around her shoulder. "I don't know how to express how much I appreciate you pushing me to give this a chance."

"Seeing you this happy and excited is all the expression I need." She kissed his cheek before giving him a smile. "Happy Birthday Bucky."

"His name is James Barnes." She said a moment later as she lifted her head up slightly to look at the doctor in front of her. "He's an Avenger. Former Winter Soldier and hostage of Hydra, just as I am."

A small tsk followed by a sigh came from the doctor. Before she knew it, the mouth guard was being forced back into her mouth. 

She braced herself for the blow. But no matter how many times she had experienced it, her body was never prepared for the current of electricity being sent through her. 

At the sound of the door opening, the doctor didn't bother to look up from the page she continued to write notes on. "This process would go a lot faster if we had her book." 

"That was never recovered." A soldier responded as he came to a stop beside the doctor. His eyes moved over to chair the moment a new wave of screams left her mouth. "We can only go by the pages we've found that Pierce had copied during his temporary time as her handler." 

"And nothing has come up from when you captured her?" The doctor looked up at the soldier before checking the watch on her wrist. 

"No." The soldier responded. "For all we know she could have destroyed it along with the base." 

"What are the chances of inserting new commands?" The doctor asked as she wrote a few more things on the clipboard before nodding her head to her assistant, indicating to turn off the machine. 

He watched as Phantom sagged in the chair, panting. He had seen the fire in her eyes the day they brought her in. As she opened her eyes, he could tell that fire had been snuffed out. There would only be a few more times needed if they were lucky.

A small smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "There's only one way to find out. "

___

It wasn't long after Bucky explained the meaning of the postcard that the team found themselves back on the quinjet. There was no actual plan of action or data to go off of. Only a destination based off of the location on the front of the postcard.

"What are the chances of her still being there?" Natasha asked, looking over at Bucky. 

Their destination was only a few minutes away and all of them, especially Bucky were getting antsy. They weren't sure what would come from this trip. For it being 3 weeks since the postcard had been sent, they expected to almost find nothing once they landed. 

"Slim to none." His attention was on the postcard in his hand. He hadn't put it down since Sam had handed it to him. His fleshed fingers would occasionally run along the grooves of her writing. "For her to send this, there had to be no other way of getting out of it." 

"Then why send the postcard?" Sam asked. 

Bucky’s eyes looked over the writing on the back for the millionth time. He could hear her words play through his mind. Okay, worst ever possible case scenario. He realized now that it wasn't just a random scenario. It was a just in case idea if either of them would ever need it. 

He now understood why she had done it. They both had a past with Hydra. It was only a matter of time until someone attempted to get them within their grasp. Y/N knew she would be the easier target with the programming still locked within her mind. 

This was her way of subtly adding in the details just in case something came up. And while the first stake out with the potential scenarios had been a few months after her escape from Hydra, she wanted it embedded in any way she could. 

"It lets us know where to start looking." He responded a moment later. "Someone could have seen something. Or if she was keeping anything with her, that'd be where she left it. If we're lucky, we'll find something that will let us know at least in what direction Hydra went."

"Not to be the downer on the thought process," Sam began as he leaned forward in his seat. "What if that is the only thing we have to go on? She's been damn near impossible to even get a trail on after she stopped using the safe houses. For Hydra to find her, they've got something we don't and any trace of that could be gone." 

That had crossed Bucky’s mind several times on the way over. Each thought process comes to the same two ends. On one hand there was a possibility that there'd be nothing else to go on. On the other, there was ache in his chest that screamed she'd leave something behind for him to find. 

"What is it?" She asked as she finished wrapping her wounded hand in gauze. Bucky's brows had been furrowed as if he'd been thinking hard about something.

"Your hypothetical today." He said with a sigh. "I couldn't stop thinking about it." 

She ran her good hand along her face. "Was it the Hydra question?" She watched as he nodded before she closed the distance between them. "If there's one thing I know, you'll always be free from them." She placed her hands on his cheeks as she looked up at him. "You're strong enough to fight without them getting into your head. And I'd be there guns ablazing to pull you out before they could try anything." 

He chuckled as he placed his hands on top of hers. "Humor me. What's waiting on the other side of the postcard?" 

She shook her head slightly, a smile pulling at her lips. "There’d be hope waiting on the other side. Whatever we have with us. My heart." They both chuckled. "If I ever needed to use Siberia, I'd make sure I'd leave whatever I could to help you find me. No matter how small or big it may be." 

"You just have to trust me when I say this might be more than just a postcard." Bucky said as he looked over at Sam. 

____

Once landed, the team had split up. Bucky took one look at his surroundings and gave the others several locations to search. Especially places he knew would have vantage points of the town. While any other time he'd willingly go searching for any sign of Y/N, he knew he had to be the one to go to the shop on the postcard. 

He, along with Tony and Natasha, began making their way through the center of the town. Vendors lined both sides of the street. And as the town normally did, crowds gathered at each vendor.

Bucky’s eyes had constantly been scanning the area. They never settled in one spot for too long. They were scanning for the shop or anything that could be lurking around. If Hydra was still around, he didn't want to be caught off guard. 

When the small shop came into view, Bucky’s pace picked up as he made his way over. He hadn't cared if the others had taken a second longer to realize where he was going. He hadn't cared how the bell rattled loudly against the door as he roughly pulled it open moments later. He just hoped that there was something. Anything to lead him in the right direction of Y/N. 

As he scanned his eyes over the shop, he noticed three things. One, the way a glare formed on the shop owner's face before his eyes widened in surprise. Second, was the empty spot in the aisle that Bucky could only assume once held shelves. And third, his nose could pick up on the lingering scent of bleach. 

There was no doubt that something had happened within the shop. He felt some relief that something had happened instead of coming up empty the moment he walked in. He felt it in his gut that she had been there. That the postcard hadn't led to a dead end. 

He could almost imagine the path into the shop she would have taken before she reached the rotating shelf of postcards. The back and front entrance was visible no matter where she was within the shop. Several aisles filled with anything she could possibly grab to help her. He understood why it had to be this shop. 

"You're the Avengers." The shop owner noted as Tony and Natasha began to walk towards him. Bucky followed behind shortly after and noticed how the shop owner's face quickly steeled over as if he was supposed to be that way from the beginning. 

"At least that makes things easier." Tony said  as he looked at Bucky and Natasha before looking back at the shop owner. Tony opened his mouth to continue when the shop owner quickly interrupted. 

"Are you safe?" Bucky watched as the man asked Tony. He seemed not to care about what Tony may have wanted to ask and it made Bucky curious as to why. 

"Safe?" A confused look formed on Tony’s face. "Of course I'm safe." Tony then pulled up a projection of Y/N. "Have you seen her come in?" 

The owner looked at the projection for a moment before shaking his head. "No." He looked towards Natasha. "Are you safe?" 

The three of them looked at each other for a moment before Natasha nodded her head. "I'm safe. We're all safe. We're just looking for our friend to make sure she is safe." 

It was Natasha’s words that clicked something in Bucky’s mind. Anyone else would have just given an answer about if they had seen Y/N or not. But this man had been intentionally avoiding any questions about Y/N. 

All he cared about was asking if they were safe. A question that seemed pointless given the current circumstances. But Y/N had sent him a postcard with a coded message. A code that had been tied into the steps he had created with a scenario she had come up with for the sake of making a stakeout easier to handle. 

The owner shook his head slightly before looking at Bucky. There was a look in his eyes, almost pleading that one of them knew how to respond. "Are you safe?" 

An annoyed sigh passed Tony’s lips at the words but Bucky nodded his head. "Pancakes."

"What?" Both Tony and Natasha said at the same time. 

"I'll explain later."  Bucky shrugged. 

A smile pulled at the shop owner's lips as he kept his eyes on Bucky. "Your preference?"

Bucky chuckled at the memory that crossed his mind. One that left him and Y/N tangled in each other before the smoke alarm went off. "Regular, but the burnt ones made the memories." 

The shop owner nodded his head quickly. "One moment." He moved away from the counter and made his way towards the back room. 

Bucky looked over to find Natasha and Tony sharing the same look of curiosity. Bucky shrugged his shoulders. "Y/N played this smart. Anyone else would have given you an answer about if they saw her. Not look directly at an image of her and lie before asking the same thing to the person standing next to you." He looked over at Nat. "He completely ignored what you said after asking. But when you mentioned we were making sure Y/N was safe, it hit me what the phrase was. So I gave it to him." 

Before Natasha or Tony could respond in any way, the shop owner came back carrying a decorative box. One that was decent in size but small enough to be held in one hand. 

"Your friend said to give this to you." He held it out for Bucky. Bucky gently reached out to take it from him. "She told me she'd only trust the person who could answer correctly. Said what was left of her life was in that box." 

"Thank you." Bucky said as he brought the box closer to him. His eyes never left the lid of the box as he had. 

I'd make sure I'd leave whatever I could to help you find me. No matter how small or big it may be.

Part of him was afraid to even look inside of it. If this was all she had kept with her, it added to the guilt that was already hooked within him. The other part of him wanted to know what items the box contained that would help put him in the right direction in finding her.

"Was this where she was taken?" 

Bucky had heard Natasha’s voice ask the question. But his brain wasn't fully latching onto the conversation as his focus was now on opening the box. 

"No. She killed two of them here before she left. Tourists saw soldiers take her down at the next block over." 

She fought her way out.That would explain the empty space and smell of bleach. Bucky thought as he placed the box and the lid on the counter top in front of him. The box had been filled halfway with items Y/N had put in there. 

At first glance Bucky could see some pictures. Pictures that made a small tick of a smile pull at his lips. A strip of photos from a booth stuck out and he gently pulled it out taking in the images. 

His heart longed for the moments the camera had captured. The smile on both of their faces as they looked at each other instead of the camera. How her eyes had shined so beautifully as she looked over at him. Or how he kissed her at the right time for the last photo. The first time he ever kissed her was captured for them in a small square photo. 

His face fell as that guilty feeling poked out at him. He hated himself for forcing her to leave. He hated that he waited so long to start visiting safe houses and leaving her messages. Messages that had been left unanswered as those safe houses stayed vacant. 

Sighing, he placed the picture strip back on top and lifted the pile of photos to stand against the edge of the box. Underneath the photos were a few folded maps. 

Maps of the different locations she had been in over the last year and a half. Circles and Xs were visible in certain locations. No doubt places she deemed safe and places to stay clear of. On the top right corner of the first map, her writing had caught his interest quickly.

If you're reading this, thank you for coming. You didn't have to, but you did. You are the only person who would understand the contents of this. Keep it safe. Keep it hidden. I trust you with it. 

His eyebrow raised as he lifted the maps. Beneath them were two journals stacked on top of each other. One of them he recognized right away. The other not so much. 

The one he recognized had been Y/N’s journal. One that she had kept with her on every mission, every vacation, and that she wrote in nightly. Her favorite color protected the pages she had been writing on. And by the simple glance of it, there were only a few more pages left untouched. 

When he pulled the second journal out, his heart dropped. The black leather journal stared right up at him. The white lettering on the front was bright against the cover. The journal is newer in comparison to the one that still occasionally haunts his dreams. 

His fleshed fingers ran over the etched lettering in the leather. Each letter he traced with his finger proved further that Y/N did her best to make sure no one could just come along and surprise her. She'd go down as herself and not as the asset they made her into. 

As his fingers came to the last letter on the cover, flashes of a red journal appeared across his mind. How he loathed the memories of sitting in that suppressing machine and seeing the soldier in front of him read from the journal. How a journal such as that one, and the one in his hand, had the capability to take away a person's free will in an instant. 

Phantom. The front of the cover stated. It wasn't a symbol like the one he had seen being used during his time in Hydra’s hold. A single word that held more secrets than a symbol. 

Every detail about her time as Phantom was sitting in his hand. Her trigger words, the torment and conditioning she had been subjected to, along with notes from her handlers about her missions would be within the pages of the journal. The one thing that kept her from ever falling into the wrong hands without a fight and he now had it. 

She trusted him with the very detailed past she tried so hard to keep hidden from him. Trusted him with the very thing that could be used against her time and time again if allowed. He had it in his hand and he wanted nothing more than to watch it burn.

Who asked to be tagged:

@lady-loki-barnes-djarin

Phantom Taglist:

@anna97almeida

All WorksTag (The tag to be notified for everything I write):

@mrs-maximoff-kenner @mizzzpink @friendelius @thatfanficstuff @mushroomelephant @23victoria @avengers-fixation @fayeatheart @my-soulmate-is-mycroft

Excelsior Tag(All MCU fics):

@hellotvshowtrash @dpaccione @old-enough-to-know-better73 @elijahs-wife @kpopgirlbtssvt @theartofhotchinthesnow @bluebear142077 @thatweirdoleigh @loving-life-my-way

Winter Soldier tag(For only and all things Bucky):

@fandom-princess-forevermore @freyathehuntress @emerald-writes

#MCU #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #hydra!reader #reader insert #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier x Fem!reader #Winter Soldier fanfics #winter Soldier fics #xxwritemeastoryxx writes 2023

[head-in-the-clouds-ahh]

so idk if ppl are ever gonna see this but are the kotlc books worth it? (If you don't want to read the long rant just stop here but if you don't mind you're welcome to give me feedback on my opinions)

I'm on lodestar rn and the writing honestly feels so repetitive and childish - just like sth I would've written when I was 11 (like Fitz tugging on Sophie's ponytail, Keefe's jokes that do not match with his age, etc.)

everything is also so dragged out like so much of the nearly-700-page book is about the characters arguing but I feel like it's just pointless arguing SM put to lengthen the book. also an unreasonable amount is about the love triangle and how Sophie's heart flutters every time she sees Fitz.

I also feel like SM added too many characters and is struggling to give them enough page time. like in the first book Dex literally was the person who went on the adventure with Sophie and now it feels like he's just the technopath whenever they need something and it's such a shame considering Dex is one of my favorite characters. (but also idk if Dex likes Sophie or not because we've already got a love triangle and so much of the book is already fluff and talking about romance that i honestly just want a male character to have a platonic relationship w/Sophie)

not to mention the characters just do not feel fleshed out to me. they say stuff that teenagers don't say, the elven species are literally all gorgeous but there really isn't much elaboration or development on that aspect, and let's just take Sophie and Fitz for example.

personally, I think Sophie is a terrible friend. the thing that stood out most to me was how she left Dex out multiple times and keeps saying stuff like "please don't hate me." combined with other factors it just seems like she's pretty self-centered. not to mention the fact that she literally does not know how to follow orders and I'm not saying the black swan or the councillors come up with good plans I'm just saying the formula of the book is literally just "various plot points get introduced and a problem surfaces -> everyone tells Sophie to stay put -> Sophie disobeys them -> whatever chaos ensues after that." this just makes her unlikable as a character.

Fitz is just... that absolutely gorgeous guy who the main character has a crush on. he barely gets any character development (like most of the other characters.) and yes there was some form of development when Alden was crippled by guilt and fell unconscious but there was literally no development or elaboration on how he handles his guilt from that point on. like even in lodestar Sophie mentions multiple times that anger was Fitz's way of concealing or dealing with problems but that's it.

I do think that kotlc has an incredible and compelling plot, which is why I am so reluctant to give up this series. i used to devour these books in less than a week. and the first books were good. everything felt more authentic (I'm saying that as someone who read the first book when I was fifteen and am now sixteen, and yes, I am aware that this is a middle grade book, but the age difference when I read the books is so little I feel it's unlikely that my opinion of the writing has changed so much)

I'd like to emphasize that this is not a hate post. I still love the series very much, but I'm just questioning whether I should keep on reading. these are just my opinions on this book after reading five books of the series. you're welcome to give me your opinions, and many thanks to anyone who gives a reply!

#kotlc #kotlc fandom #questions #kotlc sophie #kotlc fitz #kotlc dex #fantasy #shannon messenger

[peacexatxlast]

Thomas Shelby; I'm Here

I had plans for this to be smutty... But then it took another direction and became angst with an inkling of fluff if you squint. This is my first fic of him, so if you enjoy it, let me know if you want a part two with smut? Or just give me some feedback! Thankss xx

Word count: 1,500 ish Summary: Thomas' wife has a nightmare, and once again... he's working. Warnings: Ahhh, not much. Angst! Might be swearing, I don't remember.

She had grown accustomed to sleeping alone. More accurately, falling asleep alone and almost always waking up with the ghost of comfort and warmth lingering where her husband once lay. Lately, that ghost had turned into her envy. That damned apparition getting more of her attention, lying by her side than her own partner did. Speaking to him at night more often than she had spoken to him in months. Whether or not he actually slept beside her anymore was a mystery, for she would only occasionally rouse from her slumber when the bed shifted and the scent of whiskey and cigarettes engulfed her. She used to despise the scent. It was all she had now, feeling like home in many ways. 

Sex had become a fading memory of her marriage vows. To have and to hold… so long as Thomas Shelby deemed appropriate. Whenever he had time in his busy schedule. Whenever the stress of life became so burdensome he needed to unload it upon her in a quick and passionless fuck. She never complained. She never turned him away. Any time spent under his attention was time well spent. It gave her hope. 

She dreamt that night. Alone, the only warmth was wrapped against her body in a blanket. It did little to melt the ice within her subconscious. In this state of catatonia her brows furrowed and body curled into a fetal position to return to the protection only offered while being inside of her mothers womb or being wrapped in the arms of the most dangerous man alive. A man's heart was a wretched thing. Her mother's womb stretched and made room for her, but her husband's heart would not bleed for her nor separate room for her from his work.

It was snowing in her dream. Her bare feet trod through the white tundra, and yet she felt nothing. She supposed that her concern for her husband outweighed the frostbite threatening her inside of this facade. She could see only the outline of his person, and no matter how far she traveled, no matter how quickly she ran and called for him, Thomas never was reached. Even when her breath suffocated her with each exasperated attempt to capture oxygen in her lungs, she got no nearer to him than the three hundred steps that passed. Another three hundred. And another. He was still only a silhouette of something she needed but could get to. 

“Thomas! Behind you!” The storm of snow had silenced her shriek, and the shadow of death closed in on her husband. She ran faster, tripping and rising again and again. She screamed for him. She begged his attention. She was too late, too slow, the gun rising and just as the grim reaper pulled the trigger-

She woke up with a cry. Sweat coated her forehead, hair sticking to the side of temples. Alone. She was alone. The whistle of the wind whipped at the window. It was snowing. Fear crept into her ribs, slithering around her lungs and squeezing. It drove her to her feet, wrapping herself in silk and thrusting the door open. “Just a dream… just a dream…” the mutter followed her downstairs, towards the office door where she knew he would be. She knew it; she had to see it. 

His eyes, though vacant and tired, reassured her of his safety in the house. Her gaze went past him, and there was no shadowy figure threatening him. Only himself. 

“It’s late. What’s wrong?” His pen stilled, and annoyance settled within her. What was wrong? This. All of this. Him. Her. The lack of him in their wedding bed. How could he not see the drift of their marriage? Did he see it and simply not care? 

“I had a dream. You weren’t in bed. I wanted to make sure…” She trailed off, closing the distance until the desk was all that separated them. “That you were alright.” It was only for a moment, but she swore that something crossed over his features. It had to be her imagination. She hadn’t seen anything other than absence in his eyes for months. 

“I’m alright. Just have a few letters to finish. I’ll be up in a minute, love. Go back to bed.” Up in a minute. She had heard that one too many times to believe it to be true. 

“Tommy…” Her cry came much quieter than in her nightmare. She could see him, though she didn’t dare reach out and touch him in fear of being thrown back by the wind and snow just as in her dream. “Please come to bed. You can leave when I fall back asleep. Come back down here to your wife and leave your mistress in bed.” She smiled despite the truth hidden in her statement. There was that brief expression of emotion upon his brows, furrowing at her comment. Guilt twitched against her lips, burning her tongue at how she’d possibly offended him. Even so, he stood. 

“Alright, Mrs. Shelby. I’m coming.” 

His hand grounded her from floating away, clinging tightly to the only thing she had left. Her mother had passed away three years prior to meeting Tommy and even then it was impossible to crawl back into her womb for comfort. He was all she had… 

Passing through the threshold of their bedroom, he stopped her. Pulled into his chest, withholding her from the mattress where sleep would capture her into a cold hug, she wished to be nowhere but wrapped in his embrace. Hands trailed up his chest, undoing the buttons of his waistcoat. He hadn’t even changed or visited his wife since coming home. From one office to the next. But now he was here, her nails soothing down his scalp to rest at the back of his neck. He tasted like cigarettes when he kissed her. She swore she licked the remnants of sorrow off of his bottom lip, the bitter likeness to whiskey reminding her of one of his vices. His words, however, were coated in regret. That was unmistakable. “My wife.” 

She swallowed, gaze moving from his lips to his eyes. His lips spoke lies far too often for her to trust them, but his eyes never misguided her. “Have you just remembered?” Nails drag along the back of his scalp, soothing the stress from his day with each melancholic stroke. He sighed, and again her guilt tightens her stomach into a knot. It was a woman’s duty to make a man’s life easier, not harder. Though she simply couldn’t help it. She was hardly his wife more so than a whore sleeping in his bed… He had many of them. At least they never were permitted to spend the night. Sleep in the cold bed. Was that a curse or a blessing? 

“I’ve been busy. It will be over soon.” Vacant promises assaulted her, and she no longer felt she could contain her distress. 

“I dreamed of death, Thomas.” Fingers trailed across his neck to cup his face, “It came for you. It came for you, and I couldn’t stop it. I tried, I tried so desperately to reach you but-but- I couldn’t!” 

His own hands found her face in return, shushing her soft outburst. “I’m here; I’m right here.” The blue in his eyes pierced her deeply, the cold shard of ice digging into her chest. Even in his absence he would find a way to secure a piece of himself into her being. The ice would melt, seeping into her bloodstream and mingling with her DNA; he was a part of her. She wanted to be a part of him. 

“I see you, but you’re not here with me. Where have you gotten lost, my love? Come home to me.” The rough pad of his thumbs swiped at the silent drops of torment slipping down marbled flesh. Gears were churning beyond his perplexed stare. The air within her lungs stilled to a faint whisper, searching for the metallic clanking of the ridges shifting and clicking into one another. Silence. He only breathed, shaking his head softly in a dumbfounded ignorance. 

“I’m here,” from the mouth of a liar came his subtle plea, begging her to drop the topic. They held each other, foreheads pressed in a holy union to bind two lonely and lost souls once again to one another. It occurred to her then that maybe this was their problem: they didn’t attempt to connect their sloughed minds nearly often enough. 

Her chest deflated with a sigh, sealing her lips together before she spoke to keep the negative response from slipping from her thoughts. Her husband was a busy man. His work was laid on the desk there for him downstairs, and yet he had stopped to come and see her to sleep. She tugged him with her as she backed away, guiding him towards the bed to where she would finally fall asleep with a body laying next to her again.  “Okay, Thomas. Be here then. With me, please.” 

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x wife!reader #tommy shelby x you #champagne writes; thomas shelby

[bearhugsandshrugs]

Bearhugsandshrugs Update – April '24: Discord, beta reader match ups, WIPs, book writing!

Hey all, it's been a while since I shared an update!

TL;DR: Updates on fics, community things, and my life!

Last time I told you about the book proposal I wrote for my agent, and I managed to complete that and submit it! Even better news was that she liked it. So I will refine parts of the story I wrote to incorporate her feedback, and then in a month or so it'll go out to publishing houses in the hopes that someone buys it! Keep your fingers crossed for me so your girl gets published :)

Admin: Discord Server, Community, Pinned Post

In case you missed it: I launched a discord server where we hangout to talk about Gort and writing. Last week we finished the first writing buddy match up, where I paired six writers with a buddy so they can beta each other's fics. It made me super happy that the community came together in that way!

There will also be a super cool event coming soon that @littleplasticrat came up with, I'll share more on that next week when I have more headspace to give this the hype post it deserves. Just teasing a bit: it does involve Gorty and fashion :3

I also published a new lore & theory masterlist for BG3 and I'm working on compiling the drabbles and headcanon lists, too.

WIPs

In March I already told you that I was moving all WIPs to May, maybe even June. Since I'll be traveling in May, I might or might not have time to work on the WIPs.

Worthy Chapter 3: Structure is drafted. ETA hopefully in May

Folie Chapter 7: I scrapped the entire structure. While I'm motivated to write Raph and Haarlep again, I'm not particularly fond of my original idea so I have to redo the last chapter, ETA probably June

Durgetash series (concept linked) and Raphael series (concept linked): on hold for now. Neither of them grabbed my attention long enough for me to do more with it.

There's one fic/art trade I'm going to write for @tatterings and it's likely either going to be Astarion or monster fucking. So keep an eye out for that.

Series

Both MAD and Gorsimp are continuing! I'm sketching out Act 3 for MAD which we're about to enter. Due to life stuff I changed to posting schedule to every two weeks for MAD, while Gorsimp continues to update 1-2x a week (mostly thanks to @bloodlessbhaalbabe's incredible discipline on keeping us on a schedule).

And in more MAD news, I made a playlist for that fic! Give it a listen if you want to cry.

Other stuff

I'm slowly coming back online after a few really bad months of physical and emotional health turmoil. I'm okay for now and I've been taking care of myself, creating some distance from the fandom to protect my peace of mind, and I'll probably continue to take it slow for a while.

Last time I said I'd do another giveaway when I hit 1k followers. Since I've barely been on I haven't made much progress – it's about 50 followers or so away, but this blog isn't really growing right now. Guess I'm getting a much needed break from taking on too many WIPs :D anyway, I just wanted to say it's still on my mind, but I don't particularly feel the need to promote it because it'll happen when it happens.

Something cool to celebrate in the meantime: Folie à Deux hit over 1,000 kudos on AO3! Crazy to me!!! Thank you all so much. I can't believe that many people pressed the kudos button on my unhinged monster fucking fantasies <3 And to give you a peak behind the curtain here are the non-public stats for that fic:

Last but not least: If you do want to show me some love consider tipping me on Ko-fi? I promise for every coffee you buy me I'll share a pic of that beverage on here or the discord!

Hope you all take care of yourselves!

– Em

#bearhugsandshrugs #pinned #bearhugsandshrugs update #m.a.d. #gorsimp #my writing #worthy #folie a deux #fic writing #bg3 fic

[sssuuri]

Thank you so much for your PR insight!! I’m completely clueless and naive, so looking behind the scenes of PR does help me a lot to cope with all of this🫶🏼. I’m curious about the following, maybe you don’t mind answering what your thoughts are: what was the trigger to go “all in“ right now? I mean the pressure must have been gigantic ever since April, but he managed to get away with the bare minimum for a long long time… I’m 🤷🏻‍♀️🤔. Was it the Vogue article, was it the Dune 2 delay, something else? Thank you 😊

Hi dear Nonny!

Sorry for my late answer. We can't know the true reason, we can only suggest theories. In my opinion, there are two interested parties in this deal: the studio and the family. The studio thinks KJ will bring her followers to movie theaters and they'll have higher revenues (big studios are cynical and actors are only money making machines for them). The family, who loves hype and attention, that flatters them, was expecting to get it. The start of pr campaign was "private casual low-key", but too many people were suspicious and doubtful. So, seeing such feedback, the campaign changed the scenario into "here are all the proofs". As much as it makes me sad, I'm afraid it won't end soon. But I don't think it will last too long either. At some point the public will start to get used and to get bored. They already played a pregnancy scenario, they may play something more to heat the rumours. But it works up to a certain time. So, I secretly hope the fame greedy family will lose interest in this campaign when the public does. But of course, that's only my thoughts and only time will show.

Thank you for your ask 🙌🙌

[negans-lucille-tblr]

Serious question, do we have to comment on the stories we reblog?

I always reblog all The stories is my favorite writers but i never comment

I reblog because I love the story and want to share

As a reader my question is

Do we have to comment if we’re already reblogged it?

I just always been curious

I hope you don’t take this as rude because it’s not meant to be I’m very curious I just feel bad that some of my favorite writers feel unappreciated.

No one "has to" do anything. Readers don't "have to" comment, but likewise, writers don't "have to" share their stories with you, either.

For starters, I just feel like giving feedback on a fic you enjoy is polite and common courtesy. I'm struggling to find ways to word this that might be better understood that hasn't already been put out there a million times before.

The only comparison I can think of right now is that we think of us posting our stories as gifts to you – and please don't take that as me saying that our stories are so amazing they are a 'gift' – I just mean that we put time and effort into something and even if we're not totally and completely happy with it, we give it to you anyway hoping you'll like and appreciate it. Would you consider not saying thank you or not saying something positive about a gift if someone physically handed you one? Any decent person would at least say "thank you!" and if they like it, "I really like it!/I love it/ Oh my god this is so nice!" ... you get the idea.

We're obviously not expecting a "thank you" but a comment even as simple as "I liked this" shows us that our time and effort (Which the majority of writers on here are giving for free alongside real jobs, families, school etc) is appreciated.

I know that it might only take a reader 5-20 mins to read a story, but that story could've taken the writer hours/days/weeks/years to write.

The best way I can separate out the difference between likes, reblogs and comments is this:

Likes - The bare minimum interaction you could give to show your support. Some people (myself included) use these as bookmarks and not an actual way of providing feedback.

Reblogs - Sharing the thing you enjoyed with your followers, helping to spread it further than the OP's pool of followers. Don't get me wrong, it's lovely to have your work spread further, but without a comment, it's hard to know why someone has reblogged it. (Again, some people use reblogs as bookmarks too)

Comments - Little flecks of magical dust that will almost definitely inspire the creator to create more of the thing you loved!

I myself, and I know many other writers, have relied heavily on comments to complete a fic, or to start a new one. I had a series on hiatus for over a year, and I received one comment on it along the lines of "I love this, I can't wait for the next update" and it inspired me enough to finish the entire fic that week! THAT is what commenting is capable of that likes and reblogs aren't.

So no, you don't "have to" comment or reblog or even 'like' something, but likewise, us creators don't "have to" keep posting our creations out into a void, either.

#lack of interaction #lack of feedback is killing the fandom #bee answers #anon

[midnightskookie]

Intruder ¦ Bad news

author's note: first chapter, it might be bad, it's my first ff, I tried, this was better in my dreams and my head. rn i think my masterlist wc is longer than the actual chapter wc lmao, please give me feedback

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut, dilf!Jungkook, teen pregnancy, arranged marriage, CEO!Jungkook

WC: 1k

Jungkook is introduced to his future father and mother-in-law

previous || next

There's nothing you hate more than coming to Jungkook's parents house. Considering the fact that you guys are dating, that's bad news, but right now you doing exactly what you don't want to do as the car screeches to a halt on the gravel driveway to Jungkook's parents mansion. Your hands sweat with the nervousness from the urgency of his parents call almost an hour ago, although, Jungkook, seems more nervous than you, almost expecting what's to come. He opens your door and gives you a soft smile, assisting you out of the car.

You remember lazing on the couch with your 8 year old son, Cheol, watching a random movie out of boredom when Jungkook put his phone call on speaker, letting you listen to what his parents were saying. "Jungkook, can you come over today? You're father has some rather important news" His mother cut the call before anyone else could say anything leaving you three to rush to get dressed before dropping Cheol off at your parents house.

Walking inside, you're met with his mother hastily ushering you three to the living room. You're met with four faces, one of which is familiar. Jungkook's father stands up and hugs you and Jungkook, bowing to the guests after. Sitting down on the couch, waiting for anyone to start speaking, there's a loud silence. It's almost awkward. You gulp, preparing yourself for the worst as Jungkook tightens his hold on your hand.

"Jungkook, this is the Lee family. You will be marrying their daughter, Soyeon, for the business on a signed contract," Mr Jeons voice breaks the silence, you jolt from the unexpected announcement. Your mouth goes dry and you gulp down the knot forming in your throat, knowing that he has no choice but to follow his dad's orders. You see Jungkook, from the corner of your eye, nod his head, his eyes teary, jaw clenched, yet fights through the tears to glare at his parents. From a very young age Jungkook has been controlled by his parents. His every move being perfected. He's the only child being raised to be the Owner of the Jeon company. The heir. His parents would only think it reasonable to marry him off to someone who's within the industry, strengthening their connections. Yet all Jungkook longs for is the choice of being able to choose his life long partner.

The Lee family have a proud and confident smile upon their face, their daughter wearing a smile that looks more of arrogance than confidence. When Soyeon turns her head to face Jungkook, her eyes shimmer with adoration and her smile grows. To you, the way she looks is the way, Jungkook's mother looks at her husband, the way your mother looks at your father, the way many wives and girlfriends look at their own partner and slowly your own insecurities that you've pushed down and buried are slowly creeping out.

Jungkook abruptly stands up, ripping you out from your observant gaze, dragging you with him. But before he can move, Mr Jeon stands, forcefully removing you from him.

"Why?" Jungkook's voice trembles and it takes everything in you to stop yourself from running up to him to give him a hug. Knwoing how his father acts, you have no choice but to stand and watch the disaster that's about to unfold.

Jungkook and his father are two very different people. His father only cares for his business, neglecting his only son and his wife, yet does everything in his power to make sure they lives their life comfortably with the greatest luxuries, while Jungkook puts in the bare minimum, does more than the bare minimum, catching everyone's hearts, ready to drop everything for his 8 year old son and girlfriend.

"Why?" Mr Jeon, chuckles, "right now, I own, everything that your family is living off, the apartment, the car, her parents, you'll do this for them. You'll marry Soyeon for them."

She's rich, you're not. Her family is well off, no need for any support from anyone, yours is not well off, they're in debt, so are you.

You glance around the room and find said girl and watch as her eyes slightly widen at the news, but her eyes relax after taking in the information. Her eyes dart to yours and her lips mold into a smirk before glancing back at her future husband.

Your mind begins to race and you cross your arms above your chest. The thoughts of him falling in love with his arranged wife and leaving you and your 8 year old son breaks your heart. Tears begin to form at your waterline, threatening to fall out. Your eyes feel heavy and they start to burn. You begin to want to speak up, to shout no even knowing the consequences. You begin to think of the threats that will slip past Mr Jeon's lips because of your selfish need for Jungkook all to yourself but Jungkook catches your eyes and you remember to take deep breaths, calm yourself down before you burst into an anxiety attack. He makes a face at you, one that asks if you're okay, and you remove your eyes from him, giving him a short nod, confirmation that you're not okay, but doing fine for now.

"yn, the driver will take you home, while we discuss a few details" he states, "It's nothing too important yet, just introductions and Jungkook will be back with you shortly" leaving you with no other choice but to hesitantly nod while your eyes flit past over the older man's shoulder to lock eyes with your man. Jungkook approaches you. He hugs you, arm around your waist, embracing you with a long, passionate kiss to your temple. It feels almost like an apology for what's to come. And just like that, you are out the door, yearning for Jungkook to be with you to collect your son together.

previous || next

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook ff #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #bts #arranged marriage #dilf jungkook

[distortedkilling]

Welp. I'm putting it under a read more so if people want to ignore it, they can. But because it was made public and for the sake of transparency at the accusations/implications hurled, I feel more comfortable posting about it than not. Not even for my own sake but because one of the best people I know is involved who is always patient and considerate with tags and being informed of peoples triggers.

@photosensitive-despair

I just want to say I find it convenient we were blocked and that my second ask where I'm clearly in agreement with the majority of what they're saying was posted, solely because I disagreed with the method of how this was approached. Nice to know the way they voiced having been treated is exactly the treatment they give others when they voice a criticism and ask for basic respect.

Additional unasked for advice: If you can't hold a debate or conversation in advocation for something you believe in, then you need to study and reflect more on what you're doing - wait to go public. In life, you are going to be criticized and questioned and if you can't handle some nobodies on the internet both agreeing, disagreeing, and criticizing you on a bare minimum level, then you are only going to hurt your cause more than help it. Especially when you throw accusations and implications and behave as shown below. Take it from an actual fucking activist who has been advocating mental and physical disabilities and equal rights since before you were born.

Where it began. Quen and I were just dicking around and her ask was reblogged. Neither of us have an issue with the blog's purpose, mind you. We're very much in support of correcting trigger warning tags being used incorrectly. Quen went ahead and corrected those tags.

Quen originally changed the tags on this post to the ones they requested before she decided to remove the icon as a whole and add context because of the reply that was given to our asks to remove the post from their blog. My dumbass just forgot to screencap the initial change but by the effort she made I think it's evident she followed through.

Cue my ask. Quen's is in their reply that follows. For the sake of transparency, I know my text tone isn't always pleasant and no one likes to get confronted/scolded, which is why I addressed how I wanted to sound to avoid confusion but alas.

Their reply. I don't disagree with the majority of their efforts, neither does Quen.

And then the second ask I sent which conveniently was ignored before they blocked us. I tried to clearly explain we supported what they did and where our only criticism was. As well as requested again to please remove our post from their blog.

After I had sent that, for the sake of showing with action my solidarity to their cause, I reblogged their post on tags. And I aim to keep it up and keep on reblogging it because I believe in their cause. Even if the people behind the blog I'm less enthused regarding, it's whatever. I'm an adult and a tired one at that, I see a cause I support and I'll support it even if the people are behaving poorly. What I won't do, though, is sit quietly when they are in need of some feedback on their conduct, however. People, especially advocates of something, don't become better activists by living in an echo chamber. They need to hear criticism in order to make sure they are reaching as many people as they can for their cause. That includes doing things in a way you may not like or get a lot of results with, like privately messaging people instead of making this public and snatching peoples content.

I hate doing this nonsense and I'm grateful I actually don't have to do it often at all since I usually am surrounded by competent adults who know common sense and how to communicate. I sent an ask off anon so they could reply to it private since messaging wasn't possible. Their choice to go public tied my hands a bit here. Especially with the following post here that doubles down on their accusations and implication of either of us being ableist. Honestly.

Finally, my favorite form of Tumblr mentality and behavior. Blocking people for giving valid and justified criticism. People who agree with you but still made frustrated and concerned commentary on your conduct. People who, I don't know... explained their discomfort and boundaries and requested you meet them halfway are shut down without any construction communication. Hm. Quen and I are literally implementing and supporting your cause and yet this is how you respond and behave.

Glad to know the level of professionalism here with this post they dropped. Brilliant. Congrats, you are officially behaving the exact way you said others treat you with. You've become what you despise and officially are hurting your cause by living in an echo chamber instead of having a constructive conversation and having basic respect for other people.

I support your cause, I don't currently support your ability to constructively advocate for it if this is how you behave.

And lastly, anyone who made it this far, please respect their cause and even reblog their post. It's very informative. Their conduct is rude, yeah, but I don't want hate thrown their way or any such shit. I just wanted to address for the sake of transparency this because it affects my friend and myself. If anyone has questions or wants stuff clarified, you know you can DM me.

Anyways, take care. Be safe. <3

#ooc #honestly honestly honestly. i've had more nonsense on this blog than i have in the last three years of rping on other blogs lmfao #TRULY A CURSED BLOG asfdghgjh #the tumblr culture of disrespect is unreal

[writing-plurals]

Hello! I've been thinking of writing fanfics about a ship making them share the same body. It's going to be drabbles/one-shots tho, since I'm not good at writing (I barely ever write XD) and I don't think I would be able to write a full story with various chapters. I'm plural myself so I have a basic idea of what I should avoid (evil killer alter trope for example)

There's some ideas I came up with and would like some advice on writing the following:

In-system romantic relationships

DID systems

Median systems

Plurals fighting together as heroes

But there's something else I wanted to ask advice on (even if it isn't exactly for writing). See, I'm a native spanish speaker so I'm gonna write the drabbles in spanish. I think it could be a good way of introducing non-disordered and non-traumagenic plurality to other spanish speakers since most of the plural content and activism in spanish is about dissociative disorders only, but because of that there's many sysmeds and anti-endos and I don't know how I should deal with them.

I don't think I can ignore them, specially because I don't want them spreading misinformation (as always) in the comments but I also don't want to flood them debating sysmeds. I thought of maybe making a carrd (with sources) and linking it but IDK if it's actually worth it to make a carrd just for this.

Hey friend! That's a lot, and I can't touch on all of them, so some of them I'll be throwing to other mods and our followers to add on in reblogs. I hope that's alright!

In-system Romantic Relationships

Internal Romantic Relationships are almost the same as ones in the Outside. You can surprise each other with flowers, and presents that's to be THEIRS. You can hold them inside *and* out (when cofronting. It'll all just look a little different.

Person A wants to surprise Person B? Gotta make sure internal walls are built up so they don't know about the flowers until they're set up and they switch in. Have them leave notes for them with the sappy shit people would normally say to their face if there were two bodies involved.

Person A and B want to cuddle while watching a movie, it looks like hugging yourself, but maybe B has control of one arm, and is stroking the face or other hand. During sad parts, A hugs B (with the body) eeeeeeextra tight!

Plurals Fighting As Heroes

The mask a singlet would wear as a hero has multiple meanings once a system puts one on. So plan on the group having a long conversation about the name they all want to use that won't tip anyone off. Think System Name but opposite direction, so as not to be found out.

And same goes for the outfit, except you can probably lead with more of what the system members like in aesthetics.

And the elephant in the room, what about powers? Do they all have seperate (more nichely specific) powers? Do they all have the same one and use it differently? If you've seen the later seasons of My Hero Academia, there's a comparison to Midoriya you might find helpful.

Just make sure that if you include powers, that the way it fits into the world doesn't show your system to be Different because they're a system.

And last but not least (for my advice before additions)

If you're planning on writing some of the first creative representation of plurality, prepare to be the people that are looked to for information.

Set up a Caard or something akin to one with information, (credited and linked to sources!!!, Caards get a bad rep for that), and you can direct people to it like a FAQ.

And by taking on this role, you have to accept the risk that sysmeds are going to try to debate you. So deeply consider if you have the time to research responses that are backed up by studies that you can shut them down with. There are several blogs I've seen share information like this that you might find helpful in bringing it to the spanish side of fandom.

@cambriancrew is a fantastic place to start, and you can find more blogs akin to them there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope that this and advice further down on this post is helpful. And I give my best wishes as you embark on this. We need more people like you making content online.

-Mod Tick Tock

(This has been edited to remove the color, thank you for the feedback!)

#Mod Tick Tock #actuallyplural #plural gang #plural system #plural representation #writing plural characters #plural pride #pluralgang

[ijustreallylovethem]

the tale of two kingdoms

i had this idea in the shower, it's where I get all my good fic ideas. anyway, it's a royal! au so prince vinnie and princess reader! i hope you guys enjoy it. feedback is always appreciated so let me know what you think.

italics are flashbacks! just so you guys know because there are a few in the beginning.

vinnie hacker x reader

words: 3,709

masterlist

for as long as you could remember, vinnie had been a constant in your life. he was as constant as the etiquette lessons you had taken from ages five to thirteen. as constant as the fancy dresses that were tailored specifically for you and as constant as the royal balls you would wear them to.

when you were six, you asked your mom why you could play with vinnie but none of the other kids in the kingdom. she explained that vinnie wasn't from your kingdom, but from the one that neighbored it. his parents, the king and queen of his kingdom, would come to visit with your parents and they would send vinnie off with you and martha, your caretaker, to keep you both busy while they talked.

"but why can't you meet with any of the parents from our own kingdom?" you asked, and she laughed lightly.

"we've worked with vinnie's mom and dad for as long as your dad has been king, baby. we don't know any of the parents that are here, we only know them." you sighed, really just wanting another girl your age to play dolls with. vinnie liked to make them fight and all you wanted to do was make them have a tea party.

once you both turned sixteen, you were able to sit in on the meetings your parents held, going off on your own afterwards with martha in the distance to supervise, when the meeting was over. this is normally when your parents would catch up on any gossip or drama while they drank tea. you and vinnie, however, would usually go to the garden, since he wasn’t supposed to be in your room, and talk about a lot of the same stuff.

“i heard my parents say two days ago that someone tried to break into our castle,” vinnie told you. you gasped at this information.

“you’re joking. one person? against all of your guards? there’s no one dumb enough to even try that.”

“no, it’s true!” vinnie insisted. you shook your head and turned back to picking strawberries. “really! he managed to get in and he ran into my room and grabbed me like this!” he wrapped his arms around you suddenly from behind and you squealed at his actions.

“vinnie! put me down!” he laughed as he returned your bare feet to the ground.

“you’re right. i made all that up just to scare you. no one would ever try that by themselves.”

"y/n?" you turned from your vanity to see your mother standing in the doorway. "they're here, are you coming?" you smiled widely and followed her down the hallway to the room where your parents held smaller meetings.

“are you excited to see vincent again? i know you were upset when he wasn’t able to come last time.” your nose scrunched at her use of his actual name.

“mom, how many times have i told you that calling him vincent sounds weird?”

“it may sound weird to you but vincent is his name and that’s what i will be calling him. if you would like to call him something different and he doesn’t mind that you do, then you go right ahead.”

your conversation was cut off as she reached forward and opened the meeting room door. your eyes scanned the room as soon as you were past the threshold and you somehow managed to smile even bigger than when you mother came to get you when your eyes met vinnie's. you felt your heart soar when he returned your smile and butterflies started to fly around your stomach and your brain. you willed the feelings to go away, just as you did every time they happened.

“hey stranger,” he said, bowing slightly toward you and you curtseyed in exchange. neither of you needed to keep up the formalities but you both insisted on doing so. something that had started when you were both twelve.

“you two don’t have to exchange formalities with each other if you don’t want to. you’ve known each other since birth,” your father explained to you both one day. you shook your head.

“but dad, how would he know i respect him!” you replied, sarcasm lacing your voice. vinnie laughed and your dad smiled while rolling his eyes.

“paying attention in etiquette classes i see.” you gave him a cheeky smile and then he left the two of you alone to go socialize with vinnie’s parents.

“it’s been a while,” you spoke as you pulled him into a hug. “sword practice? the whole time your parents were here last time?” he pulled away and gave you a cheeky smirk.

“of course, what else would i be doing?”

“well don’t do it again, i was bored out of my mind.”

“awe, you missed me.”

of course you missed him. you missed him the second he bowed goodbye and got into the carriage back to his own kingdom. you missed him every moment he was away, right up until the very second you laid eyes on him again. but before you could even come up with a response, your father was calling you both over to the table. you followed his orders, sitting down in your normal seat, just to the left of vinnie, and turning your attention to the business that was to be discussed. this time, it seemed, the attention of your parents was not focused just on vinnies parents. in fact, all four of them were looking at you and vinnie.

“y/n, vincent, you both know our kingdoms have been allies for longer than the two of you have even been alive,” vinnies father started. you nodded, and reached for vinnies hand under the table. you were nervous for where this conversation was going. it almost sounded as if they were breaking the alliance and that meant you would most likely never see vinnie again. your fingers laced with his and he gave your hand a small squeeze, letting you know he was there for you, a small act of reassurance.

“we think,” your father spoke, “that it’s time we merge the two together.” it was silent for a moment, as you let the information sink in. it sounded like a great idea to you, but you were slightly confused.

“wait, so who would rule the kingdoms if they merged.”

“you.” your eyes widened, the answer not being what you expected at all. you? you would rule the equivalent of two kingdoms? that seemed… impossible.

“me?”

“well, you and vincent.” you and vinnie? that didn’t seem as hard as just you by yourself. but wait? didn’t that mean?

“you want us to get married to combine the kingdoms?” vinnie asked, and your eyes flew to him to gauge his reaction. it was funny, normally you could read his every emotion. but now, you had absolutely no clue what he was thinking.

“that would be the plan, yes,” his father answered him. it was silent for a moment as you both took in the situation. then vinnie was dropping your hand and flying from his seat.

“i’m not marrying her!” your jaw dropped slightly as you watched him begin to pace. his mother called his name to scold him but he continued talking. “this plan of yours is terrible and quite honestly i think we should have been a part of the discussion about it considering the whole thing involves us, involves the rest of our lives!”

your mind raced as you watched the scene in front of you. vinnie doesn’t want to marry you. he’s so against marrying you that he’s willing to yell at his parents for even suggesting the idea. you were stupid for ever even wondering if he might feel the same way about you that you felt about him.

“vincent, calm down a moment,” his mother tried to reason but he shook his head.

“i’m not going through with this!” you looked to your mother, your eyes wild yet still holding a bit of sadness. you had never told your mom about your feelings for your best friend, but she had her sneaking suspicions. her eyes were full of pity as she looked back at you, but then you were looking back to vinnie and his father.

“vincent, you and y/n are getting married whether you like it or not. it’s the only way to merge the kingdoms.”

“why do we need to merge the kingdoms anyway? they’re perfectly fine being two, separate places.”

“vincent. our word is final. now apologize to the king and queen for your outburst.” you watched from behind as vinnie attempted to take a deep breath. you knew he was still angry but trying to control himself to apologize to your parents. he turned around slowly and bowed.

“i’m sorry for getting so angry.”

“apology accepted, vincent. why don’t you and y/n go for a walk around the castle while we discuss the wedding.” he nodded and reached out for your hand. you took it and stood from your chair, still slightly in shock from what just happened as you let him lead you from the room.

it was quiet for a bit, but you could tell he needed it. he had let go of your hand as soon as you left the meeting room, which had your heart dropping inside of your chest, but you still thought that maybe it was just because of his anger. by the time you made it down to the back garden, your favorite part of the castle, you assumed he had calmed down enough to speak.

“you wanna talk about it?” you asked, using one hand to lean against him and the other to slip off your shoes. you always preferred to walk across the garden grass with bar feet when it was warm enough outside to do so. vinnie sighed and you stood back up. “you don’t have to. i just wanted to give you the option.” he seemed to think about it for a moment but then shook his head.

“maybe later.” you looked up to make sure he was okay but he kept looking forward.

“okay, do you want to talk about something else then? i heard steven is making chicken noodle for dinner.” a small smile crept across his face which caused a smile to form on yours. “i knew that would cheer you up! you love steven’s chicken noodle.”

“how can i not? it’s amazing.”

“well, we’ll have to make sure we keep him as our cook when the kingdoms merge.” the smile slipped off vinnies face again, which had you frowning. “is marrying me all that bad?” he stopped and looked at you with wide eyes.

“what? why would you ask me that?”

“because you seemed so against it earlier. i just- i think there are way worse people out there to be in an arranged marriage with than your best friend. at least we know we get along. i know some girls despise their husbands.”

“y/n, it’s nothing against you. there are reasons i don’t want to be in an arranged marriage with you, yes, but i’m not quite ready to say what they are.”

“do any of them have to do with why you stayed home last time?” you asked softly, realizing for the first time that maybe he stayed behind for a girl.

“what? of course not. look, i’ll tell you eventually, okay? when the time is right.” you nodded, letting him know that you were perfectly fine with that.

“you’re not going to resent me in the future because you were forced to marry me, are you?”

“i could never resent you. and anyway, you’re right. there are much worse people i could be marrying rather than my best friend.” he smiled down at you and you returned it, happy to see him out of his bad mood from just moments ago.

“wanna pick some strawberries? they’re in season right now so they should be delicious.” you turned to lead him toward your strawberry patch, missing the way he watched you as he followed, a sparkle in his eye at your words.

over the next month, both your parents and vinnies worked tirelessly to plan the most extravagant and elegant wedding for the two of you. unfortunately, this meant they were also working you tirelessly to help plan the wedding. they at least had the decency to let you plan things the way you wanted since you didn’t really want to go through with the marriage. or, that’s at least what they thought.

however, planning your wedding meant you had been seeing a lot more of vinnie recently. he had input and ideas on things that should be included in the celebration and you were happy to let him help plan. not only was it his wedding too, which meant he should get a say in things, but him planning a bit took some weight off of your shoulders since you didn’t have to make all of the decisions yourself.

you had already decided on most of what you needed to, only leaving one thing: your dress. since the day of the meeting where you found out you were to be married, multiple seamstresses had been working to make your perfect dress just the way you described it to them. today was finally the day it was finished and you would get to try it on.

“y/n, they’re ready for you to try on your dress. i would love to come with you but me and your father have a few things to go over,” your mother informed you. you nodded and made your way down the hall to a room you liked to call the wardrobe. it technically was not a wardrobe, but it was where the seamstresses worked and you would always be trying on your formal dresses there so you decided to give it a name to reflect that.

your eyes landed on the dress as soon as you opened the door. it was situated on a mannequin in the middle of the room and was everything you could hope it would be. you made sure to close the door behind you, knowing vinnie was somewhere in the castle, and then made your way over to it. you couldn’t help but admire it, a sparkle in your eye and a small smile on your face.

“are you ready to try it on?” you turned toward the voice to find your favorite of the seamstresses, laura.

“yes, please.” she took the dress off the mannequin as you took off three dress you wore and then helped you slip into the beautiful white fabric. you held your hair out of the way while she did up the back and then she moved the mannequin so you could stand in front of the mirror.

tears nearly filled your eyes at the sight of yourself in the dress. seeing yourself this way was something that you had dreamed of since you were younger. and now you were here, in a dress that you could only describe as perfect, getting ready to marry the man you had loved since you knew what love was. the only problem was the fact that he didn’t feel the same about you, though you couldn’t let that dampen your mood at the moment.

“what do you think? is it what you were envisioning?”

“oh, laura, it’s even better than what i was thinking. it’s beautiful. it’s perfect.” she smiled at you through the mirror but you didn’t notice. you weren’t able to tear your eyes away from yourself.

“does it fit okay? we had your measurements but there were a few places we weren’t sure if we did correctly. if not, i can fix them but i’ll just need to pin it.” she started looking over the dress, looking for anywhere there might be something incorrect, but you shook your head.

“no, it’s literally perfect. thank you.”

loud, incessant knocks on the door started you, and you jumped slightly at the sound.

“y/n? we need to talk.”

“vinnie? is it important? i’m kind of in the middle of something.”

“yes, it’s important. can i come in?” your eyes widened, and you stepped off the small platform you were on.

“no! do not come in.”

“seriously? it’s important.” you could practically hear him rolling his eyes on the other side of the door.

“i’m wearing my dress, vinnie! you can’t see it before the wedding!” laura began to undo the back of the dress, trying to help you out of it as fast as possible.

“y/n, it’s not that big of a deal. just let me come in and talk to you.”

“can you not wait one minute, vincent? calm down.” you stepped out of the white dress and back into the one you had entered the room in, pulling up and slipping your arms into the sleeves. to help you along, laura tied the back of it closed as you situated yourself. you made your way to the door but paused before opening it. “turn around.”

“what?”

“so you don’t see the dress when i open the door. turn around.” you heard him sigh but after a second he gave a small, “ok.” you opened the door and quickly slipped through into the hallway, closing the door right behind you. “so, what was so urgent?” you asked as he turned to face you again.

“maybe we should talk somewhere private.” our stomach dropped at his words. somewhere private? what could he possibly want to talk to you about in private.

“oh, ok. we can go to my room.”

“are you sure? i’m not really allowed in there.”

“vinnie, they want us to get married. they’re going to have to get over it soon anyway.”

“right, okay.” he followed you back to your room and you closed the door behind him, turning to let him say what he needed to. instead, you found him looking around your room, taking it all in.

“vinnie,” you called, just to get his attention.

“i like it in here. it’s… comforting. it’s very you.”

“um, thank you. so what was it you needed to talk to me about?”

“oh, right. um, so, earlier, i happened to walk past our moms having a conversation and your mom was just saying something that i thought was kind of odd.”

“really? what was she saying?”

“um, something about you.” your brows scrunched at his words. something about you? what could she have said about you that would make vinnie need to talk to immediately?

“me? what about me?” he reached up to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, his face flushed pink now that he was actually bringing the topic up to you. he was avoiding eye contact as well, which made you nervous.

“just the fact that you’re… in love with me?” your jaw dropped as the words left his mouth.

“what?”

“i came to find you right away because i didn’t know if it was true or not. she had said you never told her but she could just tell so i had no clue if she was right. for all i know she’s trying to start drama.” you sighed as you walked over to your bed and sat on the edge. vinnie watched you but now you were the one who refused to make eye contact. “y/n? is it true?”

“what do you think vinnie?”

“i think of it was, some things would make a lot more sense.” it was silent, which only confirmed his question. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“how could i? i didn’t want to lose you as a friend by telling you and you not feeling the same and then after your reaction to us having to get married? that just solidified my thoughts. i know you don’t feel the same so can we just pretend that none of this ever happened?”

“of course not.”

“what?” vinnie sat next to you on the bed, reaching out and taking one of your hands in his.

“do you know why i reacted that way? when they told us that we were to get married?” you shook your head, suddenly confused as to where this was going.

“was it not because you don’t want to marry me? you only see me as a friend.”

“it wasn’t. it was because i thought you only saw me that way.” you looked at him confused, and he took that as his cue to keep going. “i love you. i love you and that’s why i want the best for you. i never would have thought that you loved me back so when i heard we were supposed to get married, i was angry for you. i thought you would want to marry someone else, someone you loved.”

“but, you’re the one i love.”

“yeah, i happened to be the one you love. but i didn’t know that at the time, which is why my reaction was so…”

“big?” vinnie laughed slightly and you smiled.

“yeah.” it was silent for a moment, both of you taking a moment to just admire the other.

“vinnie?”

“yeah?”

“you can kiss me,” you told him, having noticed the way his eyes dropped to your lips. he flushed at your words before leaning in slightly. you closed to gap between the two of you, pressing your lips to his. the kiss made you feel warm all over, and a few butterflies flew around your stomach at the fact that this was finally happening. you pulled away from him a few moments later, but didn’t put much distance between the two of you.

“we’re so stupid for not admitting our feelings before,” vinnie whispered, and you nodded.

“i guess that just means we have some time to make up for.” he smiled, nodding slightly as well.

“that it does,” he said, pulling you back into him.

“so do you still want to get married? should we postpone the wedding until we’re ready?” he thought for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

“no, i say we’ve already got so much planned, let’s do it.” you smiled widely.

“let’s do it.”

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker fic #vinnie hacker series

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 2/28/2023

goodbye february!

listening

night beats by hex. @slothshark has done a much better writeup of the aural soundscape than me (partially deaf) ever could. it sounds like its cover art. it knocked my fuckin socks off. this thing is SO textured, it's like taking a nylon scrubber to the inside of my skull (in a very good way). the way the reverb and the slight feedback blend is just. mwah. also features a close cousin of the morricone WAH WAH WAH wail!

-

reading

raymond chandler's the big sleep. once again i trust that we are all adults who know that many genre works, including this one, are very much products of their time. however this one is exceptionally racist and homophobic for its time. chandler can't quite make up his mind how he feels about Jews.

it reads very much like a first novel, the plot and pacing unfold like a colt getting up. i like the solution of the book much more, but even though the movie's plot is a little less coherent it has more Vibes. another first novel problem is that it's a little embarrassed of itself-- this line dampens every cool line aferwards.

"Neat, huh?" Brody said. "Just kind of stand up a minute. Come forward just about two yards. You might grab a little air while you're doing that." His voice was the elaborately casual voice of the tough guy in pictures. Pictures have made them all like that.

which immediately dampens the following lines and every cool line thereafter in the book

"Tsk, tsk," I said, not moving at all. "Such a lot of guns around town and so few brains. You're the second guy I've met within hours who seems to think a gat in the hand means a world by the tail. Put it down and don't be silly, Joe."

a baffling choice the movie makes, which makes it far less coherent, is changing vivian's husband from the missing sean ryan to rutledge, Some Guy she's divorced who is never seen on screen or mentioned again. i'm not sure why this adaptational choice was made but probably a censor issue? maybe howard hawks thought marlowe would look bad if he went after a woman who was looking for her missing husband? in the movie marlowe already makes a pass at nearly every woman he meets except carmen, who is barely grown and frankly doesn't hold a fucking candle to her sister vivian.

how'd i find this: the big sleep was the first movie i watched this year and i have not been able to stop thinking about it for two months. i think i slightly prefer dashiell hammet's prose to chandler's, but chandler wrote some of my favorite short stories.

-

watching

witness for the prosecution (1957, dir. billy wilder)

this movie ended with a fascinating early piece of spoiler culture: “The management of this theater suggests that for the greater entertainment of your friends who have not yet seen the picture, you will not divulge to anyone the secret of the ending of Witness for the Prosecution.”

when i watch movies made by directors i already know i like, i have a good time! who would have thought!

another fucking scintillating Wilder movie to showcase some of the greatest character work ive ever seen. despite (maybe because of) the numerous twists, it’s one of the fairest mysteries ive ever seen. i don't think knowing the twist spoils the film, bc it's really know what happens but HOW it happens, but i find myself reluctant to discuss the ending at all.

how'd i find this: had kanopy credits to use up, thought this would be a good movie to knit to. partially right bc i got a fuck of a lot of rows done bc i was knitting faster and faster as it careened along. there was a cramp in my jaw from clenching my teeth so hard.

-

playing

still fuckin around and finding out in fallo/ut 4, still in beautiful postapoc maine.

the lighthouse at brooke's head fixed itself and now at the proper distance from the ground. did not go inside bc i was overencumbered by like five hundred pounds and wanted to go finish my house on longfellow's little islet.

hi valentine. the proportions are. not ideal and i probably should have built it facing the inner harbor for maximum hurricane resistance. it is not the most efficient house i have ever built, bc it only has three bedrooms. however! i imagine it is the main hub for supplies coming in and out of my far harbor settlements/a meeting place for the islanders. hence the enormous table and extra bar stools behind the counter. this first one is looking back toward the front door.

i guess ppl could crash on the trio of couches if they needed to. when you walk into the ground floor, you pass a narrow but deep kitchen, and a little pantry and separate full bath that split off the main living/dining bookcase area like so.

the upstairs has one Very large bedroom for a couple, two smaller bedrooms with armor and gun workbenches, and another full bath. plus a little seating area jammed into the spot behind the stairs and a continuation up the stairs of the "weapons i don't want to sell but don't want to carry around" wall. this house is too bright, doesn't have enough stuff on the walls/enough chairs everywhere to be a real new england house, plus the stairs are very much up to code. but i do like it.

my fucking KINGDOM for washers and dryers as buildable objects in the base game. also my fucking KINGDOM for a bay window as a buildable object in the base game.

-

making

will not have my femslash feb piece ready by tonight :(

in other making news, i would rec these white bean/kale/rice bowls. surprisingly easy to make bc all you have to do is make rice and wilt some kale and then assemble a bunch of stuff. i did not add walnuts bc i do not like them, i did not add feta bc the grocery budget is a little tight this month, and i did not make the viniagrette from scratch bc i had a perfectly good one in the fridge. i did not think this was going to be filling and resigned myself to huge portions, but this is surprisingly filling i guess bc beans and rice are a complete protein? my primary care doc will love this for me bc 1) vegetarian and 2) v heart healthy. i would definitely up the rice to two or even two and a half cups, bc i assembled four bowls at once for lunch/dunner and they were a little scant on the rice. luckily i had a fuckoff huge bunch of kale to make up for it.

will be making it again bc it requires shockingly little prep and (once you've bought the giant jar of sun dried tomatoes) pretty cheap.

three! and a fifth! blanket! repeats!!!

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem