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nathaslosthershit · 1 month

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Everyone's Favorite Uncle (TD!OP81)

(Part 6 of Teen Dad [Can be read on its own]) Summary: The 1st time Logan met the Piastri twins and the 3 other times he cemented himself as the favorite honorary uncle. Warnings: Mentions of the 'Tensions Rise' fight. But mostly a whole lot of fluff

1. First Meeting

At 3 months old, the twins hadn’t met anyone who wasn’t family, their parents being extra cautious about bringing them around new people. As expected, these first 3 months as parents had been far from easy for 19 year old Oscar and 18 year old Honey. Especially now that Frances, their daughter, had started teething earlier than usual. Being as it was a painful experience for the newborn, Frances had been non stop crying, causing her brother, Hudson, to cry in return. After days of minimal sleep, the house was a mess and so was everyone in it.

After weeks of asking, Oscar had finally let Logan come over to see the twins. Had he known what the state of his home would be at the time, he probably would have pushed back the visit even more, but Logan refused to let Oscar cancel for something as trivial as a messy house. But he was unprepared for just how messy the home he was entering was going to be.

Fortunately, when Logan had arrived, all seemed well in the house. The twins were awake and not crying, and Honey had gotten a quick power nap in while Oscar tried to clean up the living room. Logan had noticed the lack of energy his long time friend seemed to have when he entered but he had brushed it off as the first few months of fatherhood having drained his energy. They talked for a bit while Honey fed the kids in the other room, all seemed well until…

“Oscar, she is crying again and I just fed and changed her. She isn’t due for a nap either. God, I think it's her teeth again. Can you go get the teething ring? I think it's in the fridge.” Honey asked as she barged into the room, clearly stressed.

Oscar immediately got up to check the fridge while Honey offered a quick hello to Logan. After a few minutes of silence and Oscar making loud banging noises that only made Frances cry harder, he came back in, empty handed.

“It's not there, love. Could you have placed it somewhere else?” He asked, starting to panic as Frances’ cries got louder.

Logan felt awful watching this go down. He knew it wasn’t his fault but guilt ate away at him while he stood there, not knowing what to do.

“Crap, I don’t think I washed it. It may be next to the sink? I'll go wash it while you get the soothing gel. Um… Logan, can you hold her?” Even though Honey had phrased it like a question, Logan realized it was not as she shoved the baby in his hands. Thankfully he had held babies before so he wasn’t so helpless, but this pressure to not hurt the screaming child did make him shake a little.

Sitting down on the couch, he readjusted the baby in his arms, starting to sway her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He watched as his two friends hurried off while he noticed Frances starting to quiet down. Minutes later when both parents barged in, they witnessed magic. Their previously fussy daughter was now cooing and giggling while in the arms of their long time friend.

“How?” Honey asked, too shocked to get out a full sentence.

“I-I don’t know she just stopped crying and started staring at me.” Logan replied with the same amount of shock in his voice.

“You are a miracle worker.” Oscar said. At this, Logan looked up at the two teen parents, taking in their disheveled states. He would have laughed if it wasn’t so sad.

An idea came to his head.

“You two go clean yourselves and rest a little, I’ll watch her. Maybe bring Hudson in so I can meet him as well.” Logan demanded. He wouldn’t have used such a commanding tone if he didn’t think they would fight him on this. As much as they needed the extra time to themselves, they were far too humble, maybe even stupid, to ask for help.

With a few quick ‘are you sure' and ‘you are a lifesaver’, the two parents slowly backed out of the room after bringing their son in.

They got two hours to shower and nap before it was time to take their kids back from Logan.

The twins might have been too young to realize it at the time, but this was the moment he became everyone’s favorite uncle, especially Honey and Oscar’s.

2. First words

Ever since Logan had met the twins a year ago, he had frequented the Piastri household to see the family. It was Valentine's day and Logan, having no plans or someone to spend it with, had stepped up to offer to babysit so the two parents could get a break. While he was happy to watch the kids, he also had ulterior motives for visiting.

For the past few months, ever since the twins turned 1, Oscar had been stressing about how long it was taking them to say their first words. Honey was less stressed than her boyfriend, as she knew she took much longer than most kids to say her first words and ended up fine, but it was getting to the point where she started to get a little cautious. What they didn’t know was that for the past few months Logan had been trying to throw his name into the mix. While Oscar tried to sound out the word “Dada'', and Honey pushed “Mama”, Logan had secretly been trying to get them to saw “LoLo”. He had gotten a ‘Lo’ from Hudson so far but he still wasn’t satisfied.

“Don’t worry, I have done this so many times already. Go out and have a reasonable amount of fun, two kids is enough for you both for now.” Logan joked as he started pushing Honey and Oscar out of their own house. He didn’t feel the need to sit through a 45 minute lecture he had been given far too many times already.

Once they had left, Logan began his master plan. While he changed, fed, changed again, washed, and played with the twins, he kept repeating “LoLo” hoping they would finally bite and say it. Sadly though, there was nothing but the usual gibberish from the two.

He felt defeated as he opened the door to Oscar and Honey, who had clearly had a fun night as they came stumbling in. The kids were still up as they had napped late and Honey wanted to put them to bed once she got home.

“Thank you SO much Logan. You are a gift from God as usual.” Honey slurred as she went to change, leaving Oscar and Logan alone to talk.

As Logan packed up to head to his apartment, Oscar said hello to his kids. Just as he walked out the door, Logan heard a very clear and very distinct “LoLo” from behind him. As he turned around, he was met with Hudson reaching out to him and a completely stunned Oscar holding the one year old.

Realizing he had been caught, Logan entered fight or flight mod.

“Logan, what have you done?” Oscar asked in a stern tone.

“Nothing”

“Logan, talk.” Oscar had really mastered the Dad voice, he realized. Logan was a 20 year old man, he didn’t need to explain shit, but he still crumpled as Oscar looked at him.

“For the past few months I have been trying to teach your children to say “LoLo”. They hadn’t said it yet, I swear, this was the first time.” He rambled as if he was a kid that had been found with his hand in the cookie jar.

Oscar mentally facepalmed at the confession.

“Alright. Fine. I am mad but I will be even more upset if Honey finds out. Under no circumstances can she know that you did this, or that your name was her son’s first word. Got it?”

Without saying a word, Logan saluted the Australian in front of him and quickly left the household, shaking off the fear Oscar instilled in him but also thrilled he had been Hudson’s first word.

3. Logan saves the day

Hudson and Frances had been sick for the past week due to a virus they had caught at a playdate. Sadly, as the three year olds got better, their parents got worse.

As Oscar and Honey tried to push through the day, they became miserable due to the fact they couldn’t shake this virus off and that it was a beautiful day out that their kids had to miss out on because their parents were stuck inside. But after both twins gave their best puppy dog eyes to their father, pleading to go out, Oscar had no choice but to call in reinforcements.

45 minutes later, Logan had both twins in the backseat of his car as he drove to the nearest ice cream parlor.

Two hours, some big scoops of ice cream, and one park visit later, Logan carried two sleeping toddlers in his arms as he reentered the Piastri home.

4. Distractions

(This takes place during Tensions Rise so if you haven’t read it yet, I would advise you do so)

Wanting to give Honey a moment to collect herself, Logan walked the twins to his driver’s room where he had a very comfortable couch he knew they would fall asleep fast on. He gave them water and tucked them under some extra blankets he had and right before he got up to leave he heard Frances speak up.

“Lolo, does daddy not love us?” the three year old girl asked.

“Franny, why would you think that? Of course he does.” Logan did not feel equipped to have this conversation and started to panic, wondering if he should call for Honey.

But he knew she needed a bit of space.

“He didn’t have breakfast with us when he said he would and he made mommy cry outside when he didn’t come.” Hudson answered for his sister.

Logan took a deep breath as he tried to come up with some kind of answer.

“Me and Osc- your dad’s jobs are hard and take up a lot of time. Sometimes things happen and plans change, but that doesn’t mean he loves you any less. Everytime he is traveling for work, he is always showing me pictures of you guys and telling stories. That is all he talks about!” Logan said, putting smiles on the two twin’s faces. “You know, when he and your mom found out they were having twins, I was one of the first people he told. We were teammates and he had such a big smile on his face during a team meeting that I forced him to tell me. Ever since then I knew he loved you both so much. Even if he hasn’t been around too much, I have no doubt he adores the two of you.”

With that, he gave the two kids a kiss on the forehead as he walked out of the room, hoping to cheer up their mother as much as he had helped them.

#formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader

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oneforthemunny · 6 months

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blue christmas |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: a look at two very different christmases in eddie's life.

apart of munny's merriest masterlist which you can read here!

contains: sad!eddie. parent guilt. divorce. gina. mainly just very lonely christmas angst but some fluff at then end.

Fourteen Years Before

“Hey, have a good one, Munson!” Phil waved a gloved hand, locking the body shop for the night. “Have a Merry Christmas!” Even Christmas Eve held its fair share of wrecks, cars breaking down in the snow, plenty of business even on the holiday.

“Yeah, you too!” Eddie waved back, hands shoved deep in his utility jacket, heavy and warm for the colder months. His hands fiddled around with the cigarette carton in his coat pocket, pulling out his keys with the cigarette, letting it hang from his lips as he slid into the truck.

The roads were empty, cleared of any traffic on his way to his apartment. The twinkling lights in the yards, strung merrily and proudly for all to see mocked him, a dull reminder of what wasn’t waiting for him at home.

Home. He used that term loosely.

The apartments were cheap for a two bedroom, close to Brielle’s school and Eddie’s work. Gina had got the house in the divorce. Eddie didn’t want it, couldn’t afford it on his own after she’d cleared out what little he had. His thumb rubbed over his ring finger out of habit, meeting the calloused skin there instead of the gold band he wore for eight years.

Eight years. Eight Christmases spent with Gina, with Brielle. They were far from perfect. He and Gina usually fought from Thanksgiving to New Years Eve, but at least he had a tree. At least it was decorated, and there were presents under the tree.

At least he wasn’t alone.

Eddie’s heart ached, a jabbing pain that spread through his chest, leaving his throat stinging with an uncomfortable burn. He knew the divorce was the right thing to do, when your seven year old asks Santa for her parents to stop fighting, it’s time. Still, he didn’t think it would hurt so badly, that it’d be this lonely.

That he’d miss it this badly.

Maybe he should have toughed it out, should have ignored Gina so he wouldn’t be sitting here, in a pitifully empty apartment, in a deafening silence, nursing a beer on Christmas Eve.

Eddie had put up a ‘tree’, a lighted spiral cone shape he found at a second hand store, after Brielle commented on his lack of decor. “You don’t like Christmas anymore?”

She’d made him an ornament in art class, which he couldn’t hang on the spiraled lights of the tree, so he taped it on. She was happy with it regardless, grinning and telling him about how her art teacher let her make two. “Since you and mom are divorced.” Eddie’s stomach turned. There was something so sickening about hearing his little girl say those words in such a cheery tone. Made him feel like a complete sack of shit.

Eddie looked at the clock on the stove, flashing bright, green numbers back at him. He worked later than expected, it was nearly eight, but knowing Brielle she was far from ready for bed- Santa's coming tonight. Eddie’s chest tightened at the thought- he was missing that.

He grabbed the phone, punching in the numbers carefully, he knew them by heart. The phone rang, and rang.

“Hello?” Gina’s huffy voice came over the other line.

“Hey, Gina.” Eddie said awkwardly. “I, uh, I just got home. I was gonna talk to Brielle if she’s still up.”

“Yeah, she’s still up.” Gina huffed, and he could practically see her eye roll, snarled lips. “You were supposed to call at seven.”

“I know, I know. I just- I got busy at work. Had to stay overtime.” Eddie ran a hand down his face, knee bouncing.

“Great. She’s gonna be even more wild now. She’s already losing her damn mind- Brielle, get out of your stocking or I’m throwing it away!” Gina pulled the phone away, shrilling. Eddie’s lips curled, hearing the cackle in the background, she was his daughter.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” Eddie started.

“-Just, whatever. Don’t get her fucking wild, Eddie, I swear to God.” Gina snapped. The phone rustled. “Here.” Gina’s voice was muffled, before the phone settled.

“Hello?” The little chirp on the other end had Eddie’s heart swelling.

“Hi, Munchkin.” Eddie grinned softly, voice lilting higher. “Merry Christmas.”

“It’s Daddy!” Brielle shrilled. “Hi, Daddy. Merry Christmas.”

“Are you still up?” Eddie sighed softly. “You’re supposed to be asleep. Santa’s coming soon, Brie.”

“I’ll sleep in a little bit.” Brielle huffed lightly, she sounded like her mother. “When are you comin’ home? I saved you one of the Snowman cookies before Santa eats them, and I have reindeer food to put on the roof. It has glitter in it this time so they can see better.”

Eddie paused, words choked around the lump in his throat, heart sinking low into the pit of his stomach.

“Daddy?” Brielle asked, pulling the phone back. “I think it got undone-”

“-No, no, I’m here, Brielle.” Eddie’s voice was tight, hand pressed into his eyes. “Um, I-I’m not coming home tonight, remember?” A ragged breath shook out of his chest, and he hoped she didn’t hear it. “I’m coming to get you tomorrow afternoon, and we’re going to Grandpa’s.”

“Oh,” Brielle’s tiny voice was filled with disappointment, it tore Eddie’s heart right out of his chest. “Even on Christmas?”

“Yeah, baby. Even on Christmas. Remember me and mom told you, you’d get two Christmases. One with each of us.” Eddie tried to keep his voice steady.

“But not together?” Brielle muttered, a complete turn around from her previous excited tone.

“No, not together. I’m sorry, Brie.” Eddie pulled the phone away, taking a deep breath in to keep his emotions in.

“That’s ok.” Her tone told him otherwise.

“But I’ll see you tomorrow, ok? And you can tell me all about what Santa brought you, and then we’ll go to Grandpa’s and you’ll have even more gifts to open.” Eddie hoped his tone was convincing.

“Ok.” Brielle muttered sadly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Daddy.”

“Yeah, you will, I promise.” Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat, nose burning with tears. “Good night, Brie. Dream of those sugar plums, alright? Love you.”

“G'night. Love you.” Brielle repeated solemnly.

The phone rattled for a moment, Eddie clearing his throat lightly. The line settled for a moment and he waited for Gina’s voice. A harsh dial tone came instead.

Eddie tried to ignore the hurt that pounded in his chest. He felt grimy, gross, and disappointed in himself. He felt alone, most of all.

Shaky fingers punched the buttons on the phone, knee bouncing as he lit a cigarette, pulling the ashtray closer to him on the kitchen table. “Hello?” Steve Harrington’s accommodating tone came through the line, a loud screech of children’s laughter in the background.

“Hey, Steve.” Eddie cringed at the shake in his tone, swallowing. “Sorry to bother you, I, uh, I just wanted to-”

“-Daddy! One present, please?”

“Yeah! Just one! One!”

“Hang on,” Steve huffed. “No, ok? Mom said no, and you know she’s the boss. You better stop, alright? It’s not too late to get on Santa’s bad list. I’ll call him right now and tell him to skip the Harrington residence-”

“No!” A chorus of cries in the background made Eddie smile, his chest aching even more with an unfamiliar feeling.

Tiny stampedes of feet cleared in the background. “Sorry, it’s a zoo over here, Ed.” Steve snorted lightly.

“Yeah, no, I get it.” Eddie laughed lightly, stopping himself gently. “Well, actually, I don’t. That’s, uh, that’s actually why I was calling.” Eddie exhaled deeply, rubbing his forehead. “I, uh, I just called Brielle, and she’s-”

“-Steven! I need help in here!” Nancy’s voice pierced through the phone, sharp even in the background.

“Fuck. Hey, Ed, can I call you back? We’re trying to make cookies, and they’re decorating the baby.” Steve sighed. “I’m telling you, these kids are insane. I’m about to rip my hair out, and I still gotta make a fuckin’ dollhouse.” Steve’s voice dropped to a low whisper.

“Yeah, no, I get it. Don’t worry about it, man.” Eddie felt his waterline flood. “Go be with your family.”

“Alright, I gotta go. Merry Christmas, Munson.” Steve hummed over the line.

“Merry Christmas.” Eddie muttered, the dial tone cutting him off again.

He leaned back in the dining room chair, cigarette burning between his fingers. Alone.

Present

“Eddie!” You called, wrangling the squirming one year old in your arms, Delilah was determined to get to the shiny presents, squealing and cackling. She was just crawling, thankfully, toddling but not as sure, but she was fast.

“Ed, get the phone!” You yelled, the trill of the landline Eddie still had around filled the house. Brielle in front of you, in pajamas that matched her little sisters, phone dangling from her grasps.

“She’s gonna open a present tonight.” Brielle giggled, recording her sister happily.

“Yeah, or tear the tree down.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes. “I told you a candy cane was too much.” You glared at Eddie playfully. He’d snuck her tastes of a candy cane earlier at your parent’s house, laughing at how her eyes lit up.

Eddie grinned, snagging the phone off the hook. “Hello?”

There was a silence, the tiniest hitch of a breath on the other line. Eddie frowned, looking down at the caller id. “Hello?”

“Is Brielle there?” The huffy, snide of a tone that he’d know anywhere. Gina. Why she was calling him on Christmas Eve, he wasn’t exactly sure, but he had an idea that it was due to Brielle’s silent treatment towards her after Gina’s rage filled rant about Lilah’s birth.

“Hello, Gina. Merry Christmas to you.” Eddie clipped, eyes rolling. “Yeah, she’s here.”

Gina paused, and Eddie could picture her even now, nails tapping against the table furiously, anxiously. “Well, can you- can I talk to her?”

Eddie’s head turned, his gaze meeting Brielle’s. She shook her head, brows raised nearly in offense at the suggestion. “Uh, Gina, she-she’s kinda busy right now-”

“-Right.” Gina scoffed, tone harsh but Eddie could hear it, the traces of hurt lingering in the defensiveness. “Guess she likes the child bride more than her actual mother-”

“-Alright, Gina.” Eddie huffed. “You have a good one. Merry Christmas.”

“Wait!” The shrill in her tone, desperate and alarming.

Eddie waited, holding the phone back to his ear. Gina huffed, taking in a deep breath. “Can you… Can you talk to her?” Her voice was small, quiet. “Just-Just tell her I want to see her, and I have gifts for her, and-and,” There was a pause, a shaky breath. “Tell her I miss her and I love her?”

Eddie’s chest ached for her sympathetically. He knew she deserved it, that Brielle was probably in the right with her cruelty. Still, Eddie sympathized with her. The bitter loneliness of being alone during the holidays.

“Yeah, Gina. I can do that.” Eddie nodded slowly, his voice dropping. “I’ll, uh, I’ll tell her.”

“Thanks.” The word was clipped, drowned in disdain and followed with a sniffle.

“Have a Merry Christmas, Gina.” Eddie sighed softly, hanging up the phone with a final click.

He turned back to the living room. You and Brielle were still desperately trying to distract Lilah from the shining ornaments with her toys, rattling and shaking them in front of her so she squealed, only to turn back to the tree.

Eddie smiled, scooping up the baby, tossing her in the air gently so she screeched in laughter. “She’s never going to sleep.” You grinned warmly, starry eyed watching Eddie cuddle your baby.

“Nah, she’ll sleep in a little bit.” Eddie shrugged, snuggling her close to his chest. Delilah turned into his touch, face pressing into his chest, rubbing her face sleepily into the soft cotton of his Christmas pajama shirt that matched with his girls.

His brows shot up, grinning triumphantly. You snorted, rolling your eyes lightly. “Alright, Santa. What kind of cookies do you want?”

“Whatever kind you wanna make me, bunny. ‘M not picky.” Eddie hummed, rocking Delilah against his chest gently.

“I bought the Snowman sugar cookie ones.” Brielle smiled brightly. “I can make them.”

Eddie’s chest filled with warmth, looking down at the tiny girl in his arms, heavy lids pulling shut with sleep, knuckling at them. The lights on the tree seemed brighter and brighter as the years passed. A real tree this time, filled with ornaments and memories hanging on the branches, room for more as the years went on.

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dearharriet · 2 months

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HII!! CAN I REQUEST TEN THINGS I HATE ABT YOU + JAMES POTTER PLEASE 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 I FOUND UR BLOG AND I AM OVSSESSED !!!!!!

hi hi you’re so lovely!!! i had to think on this one for a while but i think i like how it came out! james seems much more like cameron than patrick, i hope u don’t mind <3 (wc: 1.2K)

You get the sudden feeling that you’ve been completely messed about at this stupid house party.

Down the driveway, your so-called friend is climbing into the passenger seat of a Porsche, leaving you behind in less than ideal autumn-garb; A red dress that falls too short and clings too thin to your wind-whipped torso, and a sad excuse for a shawl are all you have for warmth.

And if things could get any worse, you’re likely going to have to walk home in the kitten heels you insisted on wearing.

Behind you, a clunky wooden front door heaves open, producing the sweet but hopeless guy who’s been following you around all night. James, you think is his name.

He’s relatively attractive, in a sort of lost puppy way. Big brown eyes and pouty lips, a softness to his tone that could probably buckle knees if he took better advantage of it. Still, he’s thinner and scraggly, and lacks any kind of social quip to make that likely.

He skips down the steps, his dress coat flung dejectedly over his shoulder, and a frown tying his brows together. His friend from earlier is nowhere to be seen.

“Hey,” you say tentatively and his hung head picks up, though his mouth only hardens its angry line. He takes in your unlucky state, and any trace of the puppy-love softness he’d shown you all night is gone.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

You scoff. “Please. He’s not my boyfriend.” His face remains stony and unaffected. “I don’t know what I ever saw in him.”

James reaches his free hand up to push back his hair, and you stare at his tensing arm without really realizing it.

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, hiking his jacket further over his shoulder and walking past you.

In a small window of time, you realize he has keys that he’s fishing out of his slacks pocket—car keys—and your aching feet override your nerves.

“Uh, James?” You both spin towards each other, your back now to the house and his to the cars. You realize that’s probably not the only thing that switched between you tonight. Ironically, you’re the one chasing after him now.

“Yeah,” he says, agitated, when all you do is stare. You look to the empty space where your ride once was, and back to James.

“Could you give me a lift home?”

Something about the way his expression slackens turns your insides out. When was the last time someone looked so disappointed in you? As far as you know, most of the decisions you make go over very well, and no one is ever upset with you (save your sister, who is never happy if she can help it).

But here is James, with eyes holding the most loathing likely ever directed your way, and with every right.

He shakes his head, but says, “Yeah, whatever.”

Somehow that might be worse.

Trailing after him, you come up on his old sedan, a car that seems like it’d have a myriad of mechanical problems. He has to stick his key in the driver’s door to unlock it.

When he gets his door open, he unlocks the rest of them, and you slide awkwardly into the leathery bench beside him. James seems to notice your unfamiliarity and shreds your self esteem further with a scoff.

“It’s not a convertible, I know. Sorry to disappoint.”

“No,” you immediately defend, warm from his apt assessment of you. James gives you a sideways glance of warning. “I mean, yes, I was expecting something else, but it’s—I’m not…”

“It’s fine,” James sighs, turning the car on, “it’s just a lift home. You made it pretty clear that that’s all you want me for.”

As James pulls into the street, you watch the house slip away, party like a fizzling ember fighting the midnight cold.

“That’s not true,” you say, though you’re not sure you feel it at all. Your voice is overly sweet, an attempt at the voice that serves to get you what you want, when you want it.

You’re not entirely sure what you want anymore, but James brushes it off anyway, like it’s a revolting bug.

“Yes, it is.”

It astonishes you how easily he can cut you down. He’s hardly speaking loud enough to be heard above the radio, just a bitter rake of a comment, but you’re floored all the same.

The car falls silent, and you stare at your lap instead of out the window. You feel thoroughly scolded, dissected and left to put yourself back together. You don’t think you’ll cry, but you’re not ruling it out.

When James pulls past a stop sign, approaching your neighborhood, he glances over at you.

“Yknow.” He pauses, licking his lips. “I didn’t even expect you to like me back.” His eyes return to the street “And it’s fine that you don’t, but—but you could’ve just told me.”

You rub your hands over the hem of your dress, a foreign set of nerves gripping your chest. Realistically, you could weather the storm until he drops you off, but for some reason you desperately want to rectify the situation.

You want to tell him that yes, of course you liked him all this time, because that should be true. Except it’s not.

James’ car rolls up to the curb outside your place. He sighs, gripping the steering wheel.

“I really cared about you. I went to that party for you, and I ignored everyone who said I was stupid for doing it.” Shaking his head, James looks at you, anger peeling back to reveal raw hurt. “But you’re so conceited.”

You expel a painful breath, all the wind knocked out of you.

“I know.” Breaking eye contact, you flick your eyes to your shoes. Flattery and shame twine together in your throat. “Did you really go to the party for me?”

James nods.

“Went to the party, got that guy to date your sister,” he lists. “I even learned French for you. And what did it get me? A whole lot of—”

Without really thinking, you surge forward and pull James’ lips onto yours. They lay warm and firm over your mouth, and you can’t deny how right it feels.

You’re expecting James to pull back, to push you away, but he does the opposite. One hand laces into your pristine hair, holding you to him, and the other wraps around your back.

It’s a perfect kiss, the kind that you always dreamed of, and it makes a giddy laugh bubble out of your mouth.

When you pull away, you’re dizzy and a little self-pitying. You could’ve been kissing James like this whole time instead of chasing after some pea-brained asshole in a nice car.

James seems to watch the thought wash over you, because he kisses you one more time to remind you that it doesn’t matter, that you’re here now. Then he lets you go, and you relish in the way his hands linger over your waist, your neck. The giddy feeling comes back twofold.

“Night,” you say through a prim smile. “Thanks for the lift.”

James’ eyes crease a little at the edges from his returning smile. “G’night, beautiful.”

thank you for reading! xx

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chrissturnsgirlll222 · 2 months

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can u make a story bout matt and y/n and they get in a really bad argument that leaves matt and y/n thinking about their slowly shattering relationship ?

(sorry i love angst 😭😭)

love ya !!

#🩹

breaking point

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary - this rec^^

warnings - angst, kissing, swearing, use of y/n, kind of really sad

a/n: sorry this came out so late and to the person who requested i hope this is good <3

NOT PROOFREAD

matt and i have been dating for 4 months and it was going amazing until recently. my friends warned me about the 3 months relationship mark and boy were they right. we have been going through a really rough patch arguing about simple shit all day, to the point where i would frown at my phone more than i would hope.

we were so happy until we couldnt make time for one another. between his crazy filming schedule and me having a normal job one of us was always busy. eventually we realized both of us had no time to be alone together and just be happy. when we did talk it was about how we need to make more time for eachother and other than that we were busy. which brings us to our dinner date that was slowly coming to an end.

“hi ill just get the bill please.” matt smiles at our waiter. i just pick at my skirt as we sit in silence. both of us were already upset with eachother before we went for dinner and then had to sit in a formal setting angry, quiet, wanting to work everything out, and still hungry as i was too upset to eat. i spent the night picking at my plate and matt pretty much did the same.

“matt i, i need you to see this from my point of view.” i mumble quietly. “stop, we will talk at home. right now im just trying to get us out of here ok?” he locks eyes with me gripping his wallet.

i nob in response as i feel tears pricking my eyes. the dim light above the table highlighting the tears threatening to spill out and i inhale sharply as matt stares at me. no expression on his face.

he pays for our dinner and i grab my coat and walk to the exit of the restaurant. fresh air hitting me like a brick as i felt i couldnt breathe in the restaurant.

the drive home was completely silent. i just sat there my purse in my lap and starring out the window. the only sound being the car engine and the occasional blinker noise.

we get to his house and he doesnt even bother getting my car door like he always used to. i enter the house after him and begin to take my shoes off. the house is quiet due to chris and nick being out of the house tonight, they wanted to give us space but honestly i would kill to hangout with one of his brothers right now. at least the air wouldnt be so stiff.

matt goes to his room and then walks to him bathroom as i work on my heel strap. all in complete silence. i grab a shirt of his and a pair of my underwear that i keep in the drawer he emptied out for me that is fulled with extra clothing and pyjamas for when im over.

i wait for him to finish showering and he walks in with wet hair and plaid pyjama pants on. “you can go.” he points to the door. “what?” i say my heart breaking at him kicking me out.

“baby go shower we were out of the house.” he says as i sigh in relief. i smile and slightly nod at him as i walk out to the bathroom.

once im done showering i find matt sitting at the end of his bed withe his elbows on his knees and phone in hand. he looks up at me as i stand in the doorway drying my hair off with a towel. you could cut our tension with a fucking knife it was almost suffocating. “can we talk now.” i ask. he pats the spot next to him and i move to sit.

“whats happening to us matt, we used to be so happy and connected.” i look down at my lap. “we are happy and connected y/n.” he says. he knows its a lie, we arent happy with eachother right now.

“we are sitting right next to eachother and i feel like were completely different rooms right now. thats not feeling connected.” im extremely frustrated at how matt cant confront the issue here.

“im right here” he grabs my hand, “why dont you feel the same. we are happy and in love and want this relationship more than anything.”

“i cant because we never make time for one another. your always with chris and nick filming or at an LA party with tons of girls.” i remove his hands from mine, “im not blaming you i just want effort from you.”

“your insecure about other girls? seriously. how is that my fault. who planned tonights dinner?” he asks

i stay silent.

“who planned tonights dinner.” he says in a scary tone. i freeze as he is correct but going on dates has nothing to do with repairing our relationship. “your getting on my fucking nerve.”

“matt a fucking dinner date isnt going to solve our problems. we need to work together to be able to be in the same room without sitting in complete shitty silence. i cant take it anymore.” i say as tears begin pooling out of my eyes.

“oh now your crying, what the fuck are you talking about. i have been putting in effort to this relationship you want me to be the bad guy here so bad. if you dont think its working you can leave. you need to learn when its time to stop. you push and push and push.”

“matt its not that i dont think its working. we can find a way around this we just need to work together. i dont see effort in the sense that you never make time for me. theres always something more important and i cant stand it anymore.” i say getting louder.

“no, your blaming me saying that you are the only person putting in effort. im not your personal serotonin dose im your fucking boyfriend. i can only do so much. if what im doing isnt enough take your shit and leave im not going to put up with this bullshit.” he shouts as tears well in his eyes.

i stare at him as tears fall out of my eyes. ive never seen him angry enough to yell. i never knew i would be the person to push this out of him. “matt if you love me you will help me fix this. we are adults not fucking teenagers that are going to break up over nothing. i love you with everything in me and want to be with you more than anything. if we keep ignoring this were going to end up broken.” i plead

“i love you enough to know that your being a bitch right now. making me the bad guy and trying to sugar coat it. well you clearly dont think this is working based off of what your saying to me.” he stands up. “if thats what you think you can sleep on the couch or get the fuck out and go home.” he wipes his eyes as tears stream.

now sobbing i get up quietly and make my way to the living room. “matt we cant be over.” i wipe my eyes and sniffle, turning around to him in the door way.

“you tell me.”

thanks for reading xx

taglist: @sleepysturnss @blahbel668 @alorsxsturn @w4nnabeurs @junnniiieee07 @waydasims @matthewloverr @bitchydragonparadise @matthewsturnioloswifey @iloveneilperry @stunza @realuvrrr @jennss23 @tubl-mc @lilsstvrn

a/n: how are we feeling???

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cybunii · 4 months

Text

YOU NEEDED LOVE, I NEEDED YOU !!

a/n: i got sad and wrote this LOL but people wanted a part two to the other one so i hope this one is just as good !!

pairing: Leon kennedy x Gn!reader

cw: sad leon, maybe ooc?

Leon didn't like being alone after he met you.

He clung to you as soon as he met you, doing everything in his power just to get an ounce of your attention. It's almost like a puppy begging their owner for treats or toys, he needed you, it was simple.

He’d walk to the ends of the earth for you, maybe even haunting you after death.

Even if he was cranky, or didn't understand the little things you did. He still loved you with every single piece of him, his heart belonged to you.

And that was enough.

Holidays have always been odd for him, his work never let him off around these days and he's so used to all of the stress that comes with the job.

He felt almost empty, or maybe useless.

He put that energy into almost everything he did with you, helping with baking and decorating. Even taking the time to decorate the outside of the house. It made him feel content, at least it made you happy.

After helping you bake the first time, he was practically hooked. One bite of the desert you made and his fate was sealed, you had baked his heart and served it up for him to eat.

He didn't think he minded that thought that much, maybe it was self-destructive or obsessive- But he would let you do anything to him, then again cannibalism always had weird hints of romance in those books he picked up.

Decorating was fun at times, your pushy nature about how certain things needed to be done made you seem cute.

He didn't understand the hype behind real christmas trees or specific ornaments on them, then again he didn't celebrate christmas growing up. Not that he never wanted to, but Santa and presents were off the table from a very young age.

The way the ornaments lit up when the lights were plugged in was stunning.

He decided that was his favorite part, well maybe one of them. Seeing your face break out into a smile once you stepped back from the finished tree may as well be burned into his memory. He wished he could've taken a picture.

He knew the holidays would be different this year, he was warned about a dangerous mission about a week ago, and the possibility of him coming back was less than none.

He didn't like those odds.

Not that he feared death or his job, but the first thing that came to mind was you. I mean he fought for you, secretly laid on his deathbed a few times, and thought of coming home to you later.

He could never tell them no though, who was he to go against them? He was at their beck and call, a mindless robot who goes on missions and returns with less and less of his sanity intact.

You weren't the jealous type, or at least he didn't think you were. He could handle you hating him, but he didn't want to feel the hatred at the moment, coming up with a desperate plan at the last second.

He used Ada as an escape plan, thinking chasing after a woman on christmas would make you hate him, that way it was easier for him to leave.

You didn't give a reaction, just staring at him with a blank expression.

Every silent minute felt like hours, the seconds slowly shattering his heart the longer he stood there. Not like you knew that, he had been trained to keep a straight face, this was nothing.

He knew what nothing felt like when he left you. Leaving out the door with nothing to his name, no car, no clothes, and absolutely no money. Only a throwaway phone he used.

He didn't want to look back at you, even if you showed no reaction, he didn't want to break down crying at the sight of your blank face.

His only destination was the location they gave him, punching the place in and groaning when its hours away.

He made it there the next day and to his surprise?

They no longer needed him, the mission was a success by some other agent who was able to get there quicker and finish the job. They didn't know what he did to get there, and quickly ushered him out, saying they'll call if they ever needed him for something else.

If leaving you didn't break him, knowing he could've come back to you absolutely crushed him. I mean even to the point of dry heavy sobs in some random hotel that he managed to get a room at, grabbing at the sheets as the tears ran down his red face.

He never was the type to show his true emotions, always bottling them up until they turned to anger wasn't exactly the best thing for him to do.

They always led to moments like these, a bottle exploding under the pressure and going everywhere, unable to be fixed or glued back together.

It took him hours to stop crying, only because nothing else would come out anymore.

His puffy eyes and disheveled hair made him frown, he never was one to look so pathetic, at least not in these situations.

He just wanted to lay somewhere, letting all of his emotions out and not having to do anything else. He never was the best type to be alone, his thoughts never made it easy.

He never did leave the state, coming back to your town with the promise of a small job at some weird office. Didn’t matter to him, it made decent money.

He was observant of his surroundings at all times, his broken heart controlling his eyes as he walked the town, hoping to even see just a glimpse of you.

He never did.

He wondered if you had moved away.

He hoped you didn't, with enough money he didn't mind going everywhere to find you. There's no limit to what he would've done to find you.

There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't think of you, or how sorry he was for leaving. He would look out the window at night just staring at the moon, hoping you were too, at least you'd be doing the same thing he was.

That would be enough for him.

With the extra money he had, he would just walk around the town for hours. Going to the most popular restaurants and parks. Supposedly those were fun things to do, but he knew he only went there because he went there with you.

He couldn't even shop without thinking of you, buying the small snacks and not thinking about it until he got home, leaving them sitting in the cabinet for months because his mind tricked him you were still around.

It was sad, and he knew that.

It was heartbreaking to know christmas was next week. How had time slipped by him that fast?

He may not have had his own traditions, but he’d never forget what he did with you. Practically burning a hole in his wallet as he bought a real christmas tree, buying the same ornaments and lights, and every single ingredient for the stuff you baked.

The finished tree never did look as pretty without your smile paired with it.

And the deserts tasted empty, it wasn't like they weren't good- But they could be so much better if you had made them.

He had bought you something too.

It may have been corny, and also pathetic- He seemed to like that word, being hard on himself had to be his favorite pastime at this point.

But he bought you a ring, one you had pointed at on a random day saying you wanted it. It hadn't even been a week since you started dating when you said that, and he remembered it ever since.

He was definitely using that memory for later.

But now it sits under the bright, but also dull tree, the lights bouncing off the shiny wrapping paper. He dreamed of giving it to you, maybe even placing it in your mailbox with no return address.

He decided that was creepy, a good call on his end.

He wasn't a stalker, maybe not in a bad way.

That’s beside the point.

He missed you that night, maybe more than any other night. His mind decided to be real nice to him that night, creating a dream of you being together again and being happy, celebrating christmas like old times.

He may have woken up that next morning and bawled his eyes out, but that was okay.

It felt real to him.

And that was enough for now.

word count: 1.5k

#cybunii #leon x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy angst #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #resident evil angst

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alwritey-aphrodite · 10 months

Note

okay so you know i had to send in a request!!! i’m so excited for you, congratulations again. could i get the prompt of handwritten letters with jamie, maybe he’s at England camp and they decide to keep in touch the old fashioned way? but honestly if you come up with another prompt that fits i’ll be very happy either way :))

The idea of spending months away from Jamie made your chest ache. You’d never tell him to stay home, not when this has been his dream for forever, not when you can text and FaceTime and call each other every day, but you had to admit that the idea of not waking up next to him for months made you a little sad.

Still, you sent him off to England camp with a big smile on your face, mostly because it would be impossible to look sad when Jamie’s next to you, practically bouncing up and down with excitement. So you gave him one last kiss and made him promise to call you once he gets there safely, and you return home to your empty house.

It’s only four days later when a letter arrives.

You inspect it thoroughly, confused as to who would send you a letter when all the mail you’ve ever gotten was bills and packages you’d ordered. When you notice the return address, the ‘Jamie Tartt’ in the upper right corner, you can’t help but to grin. Now that you know who it’s from, you waste no time in freeing the letter from its envelope, sitting yourself down at the kitchen table to devour everything Jamie wrote for you.

It’s a little less than a page long, in that sloppy scrawl you’ve come to love over the years. The letter recounts his first days at England camp but he mostly focuses on how much he misses you and how much he loves you and, to your slight embarrassment, what he wants to do with you when he finally comes home. Despite that last part that made your heart beat so fast you were sure you were dying, the smile didn’t leave your face the entire time you read Jamie’s words.

After reading the letter three times, you set it gently on your bedside table so you could look at it whenever you pleased before finding paper and a pen and an envelope, writing your own letters for Jamie.

This back and forth continues the entire time he’s away, giving you something to look forward to and a reason to desperately await the mail. Most of the time, your letters to him and his to you focus on how much you love and miss each other while filling the other in on day to day antics or any memorable moments. Sometimes, though, Jamie will write something so poetically raunchy that you need to set the letter down and let yourself breathe before you keep reading.

The two of you still text and call and FaceTime, but the letters are something extra special, something so sweet that Jamie came up with all on his own and when you think about it, your heart aches a little. Now, you have a whole box under your bed full of letters from Jamie that you can pull out and reread whenever you need to, whenever you’re feeling down or missing him a little more than normal.

Towards the end of Jamie’s trip, you stopped receiving letters. You’d sent a reply over a week ago but had yet to receive your letter from him, so you started to factor in time to anxiously wait for the mail into your daily routine. As you’re doing this, sitting at the kitchen table and bouncing your leg up and down, there’s a knock at your front door.

You practically throw yourself off your chair and hurtle to the door, unlocking and opening it as soon as you can to reveal Jamie, a letter in his hand. You waste no time in wrapping him in your arms, slotting your face into the space by his neck that makes you feel all safe and loved.

“Thought this would be better than another letter,” he tells you, and he’s completely right. As much as you loved receiving all those letters, nothing would ever be the same as having Jamie in your arms.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt fluff #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #500 follower extravaganza!!

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eyesofshinigami · 3 months

Text

Leave It All Behind

Rating: G

CW: None

Tags: Established relationship, fluff, new beginnings

Prompt: For @acasualcrossfade "Love is having hope for the future together"

WC: 1112

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 12

Steve stands in the middle of his empty bedroom, hands on his hips, trying to untangle the knot of emotions in the pit of his stomach. He’s not sure how to feel; as much as he hates this house and its shadows on the wall, it was still home for most of his life. They made some good memories here. Late night movies with Robin, hosting Hellfire for the club, and he and Eddie’s first time right there where the bed used to be.

But, on the other hand, he can’t wait to get out of this place. Not just the house, but this town; he struggled with the idea for a long time, feeling like he was abandoning the kids, but they called him on that pretty early on. Now that the gates were closed and the Upside Down had collapsed in on itself, El promised that there was nothing else they had to worry about. No more fighting. No more saving the world.

They could just be people again.

Steve’s not entirely sure he remembers how. When he thinks of his life over the last four years, it’s mostly a blur of blood and nightmares that have left him a little changed, a little broken. He knows things and sees things that he would never wish upon another human being, and most days it feels like he would never be free of the marks it has left on him.

But. But.

The car is packed. Eddie’s van has been sold, since it would be too big to drive in the city. Their whole lives have been taped in boxes to bring with them to the apartment waiting for him and Eddie in Chicago, along with Eddie’s record store job and Steve’s waiting teaching program.

Now he just has to say goodbye.

“You okay in here, Stevie?” Eddie calls from the doorway, his footsteps light across the beige carpeting. “What’s on your mind?”

Steve sighs. “Just not sure how to feel. I hated this place, but it also…” he trails off, not sure how to put it into words. It’s complicated.

“It kind of feels like letting go of something important?” Eddie finishes for him. Of course Eddie would be able to find what Steve was trying to say. Months of living out of each other’s pocket and loving each so thoroughly tends to do that to people. “I get it. As much as I would love to see Hawkins burn to the ground in a blaze of unholy glory… I think I would actually be sad about it.”

Steve can’t help his chuckle. “Yeah. I’ll just be glad to get gone, you know? Leave this place behind once and for all.”

Eddie wraps his arms around Steve from behind, pulling his body into a gentle sway. They’re about the same height, but feeling Eddie pressed against his back like that always makes Steve feel small and loved and cared for. “Going to be a whole new world, baby boy. Just you and me and the Big City! And, you know, maybe Robin and Nancy when they can make it down.”

That idea settles something inside Steve. Robin and Nancy are heading to Boston, three days after he and Eddie hit the road. The kids will only be a four hour drive away, practically nothing in the grand scheme of things. They’ll be fine without him, he knows, and he’s glad that thought doesn’t make him want to curl up and die anymore.

“I can’t wait to do this with you,” Steve whispers into the empty room, turning around in Eddie’s arms so that he can rub their noses together. This wasn’t the life he had planned on having, but he’s so grateful that he gets to have it. He never thought he would find happiness and peace in someone like Eddie; frankly, he never thought he’d find it at all. He had spent so long convinced that he was going to be just like his dad, angry and bitter and mad at the world because he was trapped in a life he didn’t want but thought he had to live.

Not Steve. He shed that shit the moment that demogorgon came after them in the Byers house, slowly shaping into the person he is now. A person moving to Chicago to start a life with the man he loves more than life itself, who is planning on being a teacher and starting a garden on their little rooftop.

A person he can be proud of. A person he can learn to love like Eddie does.

“And I can’t wait to do this with you, baby. No one else I’d rather do this with. The words are whispered against Steve’s lips, like a secret just for the two of them, even if they both tend to wear their love on their sleeves. “Just think, in like… ten hours, we’ll be unpacked in our new place and we can break in our new bed tonight. Scare the neighbors, you know?” Eddie grins against his mouth.

Steve rolls his eyes and shoves him back, even if he loves the pleasant little shiver Eddie’s words produce. Their place. Their bed. Their life together. “Come on, you menace. Let’s go say our goodbyes and get this show on the road.”

They walk down the stairs hand in hand, after Steve gives one last silent farewell to this room, this place. One day he’ll be able to put it away, fold the memory of this place up like a letter and hide it in the back of his drawer, never to think about it again. Today? Today he lets it hurt, just a little.

They give hugs and kisses and noogies to the assembled crowd that’s here to see them off. Their going away party had been the night prior, a perfect send off that had Steve crying into Eddie’s shoulder when they went to bed in Eddie’s trailer for the last time. It was perfect, all that he could ask for.

It’s not forever, but it’s definitely time. Steve’s ready.

He climbs into the driver’s seat and gets settled in, giving a few more last minute waves as Eddie climbs in on the other side. He starts the car and pulls down the driveway, trying to swallow the lump growing in his throat.

It hurts, but in a good way. Kind of like the way a healing bruise feels when you flex the skin. Painful, but bearable. Especially when Eddie takes his hand and holds it over the console, squeezing it tight as they make their way out of Hawkins and into their future.

Together.

#les writes things #steddie #steddielovemonth #established relationship #rating: g

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diaboliklove · 4 months

Text

modern day au where yui cannot catch a break, and things only get worse when her house gets broken into by an angry red headed robber — but instead of taking her things, he takes her heart

yui was having the worst year of her life.

even worse than in 2013 when her father wouldn’t let her go to that taylor swift concert since it was deemed ‘unholy.’

she really thought only taylor could understand her.

but now its 2024, and she’s begun to have adult problems. she’s broke, her heater is broken, her apartment has started to fall apart, she stained her favorite pink skirt with coffee, her phone screen shattered when she dropped it on the train, she ran out of her favorite lip gloss, college bills keep stacking up, her upstairs neighbors never stop engaging in fornication, strawberries are out of season so she can no longer afford them and most importantly —

her father just passed away.

and all she wanted now was to rot in her apartment and ask god for mercy on her poor heart.

“it’ll be okay,” she sniffled back a tear. “father used to say the lord puts us through trials to test our faith.”

yeah, used to.

it was now late night, coming back from her fathers funeral she felt more empty than when she first got the news. her feet hurt from the black heels she now had to walk home in, the black dress did little to give her warmth, her cheeks were numb from the cold weather and having to comfort people with a smile that she’ll be okay, that there was nothing to worry about.

… but yui was already worrying about dinner. also how she’d have to shiver herself to sleep again. she couldn’t allow herself to cry herself to sleep again, her face would be frozen when she woke up, and what if she finds another hole in the walls? tape didn’t work last time, and she’s running out of rags to stuff in between them. and what about her job? she can’t buy more rags without it. they granted her a leave of absence due to her fathers passing, but what if they replaced her? if she lost her job she couldn’t pay rent — and she couldn’t ask for another extension on rent, her landlord was fed up enough with her pleading, she wouldn’t get lucky again. and also —

“no, lets just take it one day at a time. thats right,” she neared the steps to her apartment. “deep breath in, and then out. lets have some canned soup for dinner, and then pair it with rewatching the kardashians. yeah. thats a great plan.”

she turned the corner to her door.

“everything will get better,”

she put the key in the lock.

“as long as i stay positive.”

and she swung her door open —

“shit!”

“AH!”

— right into a mans back.

at first she thought she opened the wrong door. but the faint smell of her candles hit her nose, and her eyes fell on the very TV she watched shitty TV on in the mans arms — and then her eyes landed on a fucking sword on his waist.

her eyes followed it as he dropped her TV from his arms, and unsheathed it from his waist —

— and directed it right in between her eyes.

“empty your fucking purse! ill fucking kill you!”

Oh wow. wooooow.

now you would think the right action would be to do as he said. anyone would listen to a manic man with hair as red as blood, especially when they pointed a sword at you that looked like it came from the 1800’s. its not like yui wanted to die, so maybe she should save her life and sacrifice her beloved tv and the few pennies she had in her wallet.

but instead. her face twisted, and yui broke out in the most ugly open mouthed sob she’s ever done.

it wasn’t out of fear. it didn’t even register how this man genuinely had bloodlust leaking out of him. it was out of absolute frustration and sadness that this was becoming her life — and that she couldn’t even have her dream of watching the kardashians.

she fell to her knees. because, seriously, what the hell did she do to deserve all of this? she was a good kid. never acted out to her father and attended mass even when she had the flu. she never wished bad on anyone. but why does everything always have to end bad? on her 11th birthday her goldfish frank died, when she wanted a coffee last week, her card declined and now she couldn’t even sob into her blankets while she heard kim talking about how rich she was. can’t she have one good day? can’t she —

“holy shit, are you crying?” the red haired man didn’t even move.

yui looked up to him, and just stared at the man’s flabbergasted expression. through her tears, she tried to inhale through her nose, but it came out in little stutters. she extended her purse towards him.

“take it. take everything if you want.” yui spoke through her sobs. its not like anything she really wanted was here anymore.

yui curled up into her knees and rocked herself, continuing to cry hysterically at the thought of just her life. she wouldn’t mind if that man stole everything in her house — material objects could be replaced… eventually. when her eyes started to burn by the amount of tears flooding out, she noticed she couldn’t hear the familiar floorboards creak from movement and her purse was still in her hands. lifting her head to see what was going on, she noticed that the man hadn’t moved from his spot, and just was gawking at her sitting on the floor. they held eye contact for a while, like they were both afraid to move.

sure, yui thought he was a manic. but he probably thought yui was a suicidal manic.

while she held eye contact, she finally really looked at him.

he was fit. wearing a black shirt and a ripped jean jacket, yui could tell he wasn’t bulky, but instead quite lean. his pecs were defined and his muscular abdomen and biceps were flexed against the fabric from welding the heavy sword. his joggers looked worn down, and black nikes seemed like they seen better days. his face was … nice. well sculpted and he had a well defined jaw. his lips were plump and chapped from the chill outside.

what threw yui off was the cacophony that was his hair and eye color. bright firetruck red for hair that looked like he hadn’t brushed it in days, and green eyes fit for only a predator. regardless of the situation, yui could tell he honestly was… beautiful. dangerous. probably looked more attractive if he didn’t have his mouth wide open in awe.

his eyebrows furrowed, and he closed his mouth. he placed his sword back in his sheath, and leaned down to grab the tv from the floor. he looked towards yui again, with a face she could only describe as disappointment. clicking his tongue, he began to drag the tv … not towards the door but towards the tv cabinet.

“this isn’t fun anymore. you can have your shitty shit back.”

placing the tv back in its rightful throne, he squatted down and went through a worn down black backpack — that had some random pins of a band she never heard of — that was on the floor. within it, he took out her favorite necklace, her jewelry box, a couple of her wool sweaters and her damn smart toaster she picked up extra shifts for.

“this is yours. ill be back when you’re mentally stable, you deranged bitch.” he motioned to the items on the floor.

“really?”

the robber rolled his eyes. “of course I will be! do you know how much your toaster —“

“— no i mean. you’ll give it back?”

“you want me to take it?”

“well… i’d like it if you didn’t.”

“then! shut the fuck up.”

he grabbed his backpack and swung it around his shoulder. he started making his way towards the door right beside yui. as he took two steps past her, he paused.

“you’re really broke, you know.”

yui sniffled. “i know.”

“like, broke broke. i don’t think ive ever broke into a house that had so much of nothing. what are you, a level one sim? do you have no hobbies? do you even eat? i see nothing to even munch on here.”

“… i have soup.”

“you literally have two cans of spaghetti-os and tomato soup.”

yui sniffled louder. “i know.”

things were silent for a while. yui was sure the robber was still there, probably reconsidering his decision. she expected him to march back in to take her things again while flipping her off. this entire situation seemed too good to be true… but maybe this could end with her losing nothing... no. she wouldn’t let herself hope for something that was next to impossible in a situation like this.

but something even more unlikely happened.

the robber spoke again.

“do you like dennys?”

“w…what?” yui turned her head towards him.

“dennys. the best restaurant in the world. do you like it?” his face stayed neutral, but somehow the question felt like a threat.

yui feared the honest answer, ‘ive never been’ would end in her getting decapitated. so, she said, “i do.”

“do you want to go get some pancakes?”

it was yuis turn to gawk at him. he looked bored, and slid his hands in his pockets. now, maybe a normal person would say ‘fuck no, its 10pm and you just broke into my home somehow and then tried to steal my beloved tv and lovely toaster then pointed a fucking sword at me… also, i don’t even know your name you creep.’

but yui wasn’t a normal person experiencing normal things right now.

“pancakes sound nice.”

aka, the alternative universe in which two cold hearts find warmth within each other.

#toffee au’s #diabolik lovers #diabolik brothers #dialovers #ayato sakamaki #sakamaki ayato #yui komori #komori yui

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kumezyzo · 6 months

Note

Hi, first of all i love your work, i was wondering if you could do something where sapnap is comforting a reader during a miscarriage, i recently had one and i feel it could bring comfort to alot of people as well as me. If this breaks any boundaries or is to personal or emotional for you im so so so sorry and you dont have to do this because it is triggering but i was just wondering if its possible, thank you sm <3

this doesn't push my boundaries at all! im so so sorry that happened to you. i hope I've done this justice and brought you some sort of comfort. 💜💜 feel free to scold me for offensive language if i use any :)

tw. miscarriage. but it's mostly just the aftermath.

anyway, enjoy! :) m.list

it was rough coming back home from the hospital. you sat in the passenger seat, silent tears streaming down your face. sap held your hand, keeping his eyes on the road, trying to focus on keeping you safe on the drive back home.

it was only then when you got in your house that you really broke down. it was a pain unlike any other you had experienced. coming home to an empty handed felt like your happiness was ripped away from you.

sap held you as you cried. when you fell asleep, exhausted by your heartbreak. he held you safe in his arms. whispering to you how you did amazing, regardless of the outcome. how he was always there for you. and he was.

he made sure you weren't ever alone. mostly because he needed comfort, too. he was just as devastated as you were. and even more so when he saw how broken you were. he just wanted to fix himself and help build you back up.

he never once blamed you either. because he knew this wasn't your fault. or anyones fault for that matter. just fate.

even the months after, he never left your side. taking you to your doctors appointments, holding your hand the whole time, hugging you, kissing you, making sure you're comfortable. he'd do anything you'd ask him to.

when it came to telling his fans, he let you decide when to tell people. it was all under your control and whenever you were ready. he made sure people were being respectful. and if they weren't, he made it his job to block them or report them.

he never stopped telling you he loved you. even if you doubt him, somehow getting it in your head that he doesn't anymore, he doesn't let you think it. whatever it takes.

because he loves you. and that's all he truly needs.

im sorry. this work is actually truly terrible. i want to instinctively make it really sad, but this is so sensitive that i think i should just stop here. i hope you're doing alright. much love -Nony

#sapnap #anon #sapnap x reader #asks #sapnap x you #sapnap x y/n #sapnap fluff #sapnap angst

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missbluesunflowersstuff · 8 months

Text

This scenario is in my mind for weeks now and I need to share

Bruce has been missing for almost a year.

No one knows where he is or can contact him

Dick makes regular calls and visits to the mansion to keep Alfred company. Sometimes he sees the new boy, Tim Drake. Sometimes he just talks to Alfred. And sometimes Kate is there. It's strange to enter the mansion so silent

Bruce is a silent man and he is definitely not someone anyone would call warm and cozy. But there was always a lively air in the mansion when Bruce was around. And not just the mansion, but Gotham also seemed abandoned, empty and sad without its dark knight

It was an unbearable but invisible discomfort. Dick felt it under his skin, and the trapeze artist was sure that the young detective sitting in front of him also felt the same discomfort

It was an ordinary night at Wayne Manor, Alfred had made tea and cookies for the two boys who were now sitting in the living room near the fireplace, it was a cozy night, but at the same time cold and dark. You could see the sky through the mansion's large windows, the comfortable (and at the same time uncomfortable) silence between the two young people hung in the air. The butler sat with the boys in the other armchair, there wasn't much to be done, just wait for some sign from Bruce. Hoping he's alive

Alfred never gave up hope, the old butler always believed that his master would return home. Bruce always came back. Gotham was his home. There was no other place in the world for Bruce but Gotham

Tim Drake opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it. Maybe he thought of another theory. Or he just wanted to talk to his about something. Anything.

Gotham's crimes had increased, without Batman the villains and thugs became more fearless. Nightwing and Robin fought side by side to bring peace to the city, but they weren't enough, as everything had lost control

The good thing was that Joker had stopped acting, without Batman, the clown didn't see the fun in committing crimes. It was almost like a flirt between him and Batman. Sometimes Dick wanted to know, sometimes he didn't. Be that as it may, everyone was grateful for the clown's silence

"I heard on the radio that it's going to rain tonight" Alfred began to speak calmly, breaking the silence in a subtle way "I've already prepared the beds for both of you, rest here today, my boys"

Dick noticed the slight smile on the younger detective's face, something that made Dick happy internally. Maybe it would be nice to spend a night at the mansion like the old days, waking up to Alfed's delicious breakfast. There was nothing in the world that could compare to this.

But before Dick could respond, the trio heard loud knocking on the door. Something that made the old butler and the two detectives look at the large piece of wood and steel in astonishment

Wayne Manor doesn't usually receive visitors, and how did someone get there without triggering the gate alarms?

The old butler hurriedly got to his feet and went to open the door, the two boys right behind him, ready for an attack if necessary

Whoever was on the other side of the door knocked louder

Alfred had no choice in opening the door slightly, an action that made him startled, as the person knocking on the door was the master of the house himself

Bruce Wayne

Wearing a black and dark green outfit, wet from rain, mud and blood. The beard was about to be shaved, the hair was a little longer. The disregard for the appearance of such a detailed and meticulous Bruce Wayne was obvious. Whether the trio dared to think about saying anything about the great detective's sloppy appearance is unknown, as all the words died in their mouths when they noticed who was with Bruce

Next to Bruce was a young boy, a little taller than Dick. Black hair framing a cold face. This boy wore red and black clothes. But it wasn't his appearance that surprised them, it was who he was

Jason Todd

He shouldn't be there. He definitely shouldn't be there. Jason was dead! Buried in the backyard of Wayne Manor like all the other members of that strange family

Not there standing next to Bruce

Alfred opened his mouth to speak, the butler's hands reached out and he touched his former grandson's face. Jason was there. Jason was alive! Everyone's mind exploded with questions. Sadness. Confusion. Anger. Pain. Fault.

There were several emotions and none of them were meaningless

"B..." Dick managed to utter, still in shock like the other two

But before the trapeze artist could form a sentence, a sound was heard

A soft moan that came from the coat wrapped in Bruce's arms

The moan was light and low, like a kitten crying to sleep, but it was enough to keep Jason on alert

The former robin left Alfred's arms and immediately went to check on the small package

Something that alerted the other three that there was someone else there and immediately more doubts arose

"master Bruce... what does this mean?" Alfred said in amazement, watching a cute little baby smile at Jason

"I brought my children home, Alfred," Bruce said proudly, a big, genuine smile on that tired, scruffy face. There was a gleam in Bruce's eyes that could only be described as euphoria. "My children were lost, but now all my children are gathered in my house"

#dc comics #damian wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #batfam #batfamily #my writing #my writing dc comics

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serena-hart-09 · 11 months

Note

Hii I saw your request and I was wondering if I could get a one shot for a Lucifer x mc fluff? Where they go ice skating in the human realm for a date, and end it cuddle by the fire...

Thank you so much!!! If you have any questions be free to ask I'm not picky!!

A/N: Hi I am sorry for reply to this late but I thought that this might be the right time to finally post it! ✨ Also thank you for requesting such a cute request! 🤗 It may be a bit small then the length I normally write but........ I hope you like it! (I really do since its been a while since I finally wrote the draft complete so it may not match my usual style-)[Plus this was meant to be posted on his birthday I am sorry-]

Anyways, I hope you like this!

TW: None. (Mistakes here and there.)

Extra: Fluff ; (Very Much) Unreliable Narrator ; Tsundere Lucifer (and I think he is-) ; Lucifer maybe OC in this ; Soft Lucifer ; Mostly Third-Person Narration ; Teasing ; GN!MC ; GN!Reader ; (No relation to Nightbringer).

Lucifer X MC (Reader)

Love On the Ice

[Ik it sappy but this the only thing that came to mind]

Lucifer, the Avatar of Pride was not someone who was easily attainable. He was not someone who was easily swooned for someone else. He always thought that no one could make him do anything that they want, let alone through their orders, or even their eyes….. no matter how shiny and hopeful….. and very beautiful they may seem…..

So when the local human of the House of Lamentation, became silent due to yearning for their old home….. Lucifer couldn’t stand their…… homesickness… sad eyes… Each and every day in RAD and even home felt empty without the usual chatter and chaos in the House. As much as the eldest loves silence…. He still was very much fond of having chaos in his life.

The eldest was very good at reading the atmosphere. The usual bickering and joking during dinner was suddenly replaced with an awkward silence. There were small tries to start a conversation among the residents but they were shut down as the human sat longing for something.

Lucifer wanted to comfort them and ask them what was wrong. He wanted help, as they had helped him so many times.

So, he did.

He went down the long hallways and entered their room, witnessing the same scene of longing and them being lost in their thoughts again.

He had asked them all the questions. At first came denial, the answers ranged from, “It’s alright!” ; “Everything is ok!”; “No! I love it here!”; to finally, “I miss the human world….. sometimes……”

To be honest, the eldest had seen this coming….

After all, who wouldn’t miss their home after being separated for so long? Even if he’d like to deny it, he would as well, miss the chaos, the food, everything else.

Even though his rational mind went against it, his emotions finally took over him, as he gazed upon the melancholy expression they had. He had asked, “Would you like to go back? For some time?”

It was as if fireworks lit up in their eyes, and their usual self, came back in an instant, “Oh? Would it be a date?” they asked.

Lucifer wasn’t someone to back off from the challenge, “maybe.” He smirked at them.

“Well, then I will be the one deciding the itinerary!”

Well, the eldest would have decided against it but…… how could he deny them for they had such a cute expression in that moment?

This was what led him to this situation…..

Lucifer was not someone to back away from a challenge. Yet now, he wished to be the one to plan the schedule instead…

“How in the nine hells do you stand in this…….thing?”

Note that, said “thing” being ice skates.

The beloved human and the grumbling demon were right now, at an ice- skating rink.

At first, when the human had presented the idea, Lucifer wasn’t sure but didn’t want to refuse them their happiness either, so he relented.

The original plan was to ice skate on a frozen pond, of course, Lucifer refused for safety reasons much to MC’s sulking (again) at his decision.

But now, Lucifer isn’t much sure about the whole idea at all.

This time it was nearly his 54th attempt at standing straight on the ice with the skating gear that the staff provided them.

MC looked at him with a fond smile and skated back to him, “Hey,” they reach out their hand to him, offering their hand to him, “Want some help?”

“……”

The demon tries yet again, only to fall once again. Heat rises on his cheeks and for a moment he looks away as he whispers a small, “yes”.

The human then holds Lucifer’s hand and helps him in standing straight on the ice first. Then, slowly, they help him glide without letting his hands go. As much they want to shout as the demon’s nails were painfully digging into their hands, MC could not help but smile fondly at the demon looking down at the ice under his feet, accusing it, probably.

“You look like a cat holding onto me for your dear life, like in the meme I saw-”

“No.”

The demon glares at them now, which makes MC laugh out at him, amused (and clearly enjoying the situation). The demon now red in the face tries to glide away from MC huffing…… but that made him trip and nearly fall again.

“Lucifer-”

“I am fine, I am alright. The damn ground did not hurt me.” He mutters angrily as he turns to them.

“…..”

“MC….? What happened?” the demon asks worriedly if had done something wrong as the human was now wearing a frown on their face.

“Ah….. maybe this was a bad decision.”

“…..What do you mean?”

“Lucifer…… It isn’t enjoyable if one of us was not having fun….”

“Just a minute ago you were having fun with my suffering….?”

A small smile blooms upon their face only for a moment, then, with an apologetic expression MC continues, “As much as I love to see that dorky, cute, and even the tsundere side of you…… I also want you to enjoy with me……” then they sigh, “Lucifer let’s get-”

“Ice skating seems to be something you dearly enjoy.”

“….”

“While coming down the road to the rink……. You were beaming excitedly….”

“Still-”

“We are here to lighten up, are we not? And-” still struggling the demon smiles at them, “even if I may find this…… difficult….. I would like you to take the lead and teach me.”

Now it was the human’s turn to blush whispering how ‘unfair of him to be so smooth’; Lucifer merely chuckles fondly at their reaction and (with some struggle) holds their hands and nods at them. They beam at him with a big fond smile that the demon loves to see so much.

After sometime, Lucifer sat down outside the ice quite tired, he grumbles under his breath a little until they hear the sound of skates crashing down. He gets up worried about MC (also due to the fact that luckily that day not many people were skating so most of the rink was a bit empty) only to see them attempting to jump a triple axel and then gaining speed for a quadruple Lutz. As they finally land the jumps successfully, they do a “YES” gesture excitedly.

The demon may not know the particulars, but looking at the MC and their child-like happy face, he too, smiles with pride. [Look, I had to- It was perfect here.]

After having a lot of fun and more jumps, MC comes back from the ice and kisses Lucifer's cheek conveying their thanks, he only looks away blushing and smiling.

******

The Avatar of Pride was always known to be ruthless and sadistic even by his brothers, the Royals, the whole Devildom, and even to himself…..

Yet, after the entrance of this human……. Things changed……

At first he…. Did not like these changes….. mostly due to the fact that he was doubtful of the human……. But now…..

“I don’t mind them, if anything I do enjoy it all myself.” He answers the question that MC had asked.

“Aww, I knew it! So, even though you act as if you hate the chaos of your brothers, you still love them and their shenanigans! You are such tsundere-” MC exclaims teasingly at Lucifer laughing at him. They are interrupted by the demon in question himself, “Those……. ‘shenanigans’ (?) that don’t make too much mess for me to handle…… Also isn’t being a ‘Tsundere’, Mammon’s job?” he brings them close to him as he looks the fireplace for a moment.

“Well, it is, but you…. Well…..you are like a ‘Tsundere that tries to be subtle but ends up failing to be so’ so there you go, and I find that incredibly cute and dorky. Also, you give some good cuddles but not as best as Belphie.”

“….. My brothers would never call me cute-”

“Asmo did once-”

“Only once.”

“But you are cute. Especially when you are drunk-”

“I will not further argue since I know that you will not give up.”

“So that means I won? That means you agree with my statement-”

Letting out a “hmph” Lucifer just nuzzles MC’s neck hiding his face. Thinking about today and of all the days before……. He lets out a smile and closes his eyes….. feeling….. happy…..

“You are blushing, aren’t you?”

“No.”

End Notes: I hope you like this! 😊

Please do not repost without permission! (Reblogs are welcome!)

All the characters mentioned above belong to Shall We Date?: Obey Me!, NTT Solmare

#lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer #shall we date obey me #obey me #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me fluff #obey me fic #obey me drabble

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clone-anon · 1 year

Text

Rex x f!reader dealing with miscarriage

I decided to make this one its own post so I can be sure the entirety of the details are under the cut. I know this is a very sensitive topic for many people, so please take care of yourselves.

TW: miscarriage

Before we get going I’ll say that this is something I’m familiar with. I’ve been through two, although in my case I wasn’t ready to be a mom and miscarriage brought both relief and guilt. I am able to write from that perspective as well, but it’s not the take I’m working with here. I was not sure which clone was preferred so I went with Rex. If you would like a ficlet like this or on another topic, please reach out.

You both were looking forward to being parents. Getting pregnant was a surprise and you’d never forget the look on Rex’s face when you told him. He’d seen some of his other brothers take on parental roles, but he was still stunned he was going to be a father. You started preparing almost immediately. It was adding a few things to the house here or there and dealing with your changing body as well as wrapping your head around adding a third person to the family.

That all changed one morning when you got out of the shower, into your clothes, and something wasn’t right. Something was very wrong. You screamed for Rex and he came running. It seemed like a blur, but you went from excited parents to medical emergency, to recovery, to emptiness. You and Rex both cried and he would not stop holding you.

You didn’t talk about it immediately, but one day he came home to find you sitting at the kitchen table in the same clothes you’d worn for two days, staring at the wall, hot caf gone cold hours ago. He came over and sat next to you, taking your hand in his and kissing it several times.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you simpy said, “We never got to know them.”

Rex felt it in his heart. Of course he was sad by what was going on, but he also wanted to help you both through this.

“In my head I always called them ‘little soldier,’“ he admitted. “I figured it worked no matter their gender.”

You looked at him and tried smiling before he continued.

“I thought about who they would be. Strong, smart, brave, and wonderful like their mother, of course. What kind of hobbies do you think they would have?”

You thought about it, actually allowing yourself to embrace who this child was and through sniffles replied, “They would have done anything as long as it was with their dad. Playing in the woods. Pretend tea parties. And probably eventually learning to shoot a blaster.”

Rex smiled at that. “Yeah, but not too soon.”

“They would have loved all their uncles,” you added.

“And their uncles and us... we’ll always love them. Because no matter how short a time it was for, they are part of this family.”

He took a breath. “I know we have to grieve in our own ways. I know you’re beyond sad and I am too, but I’m not going to forget our little soldier and I don’t want you thinking you have to move on or whatever just because a certain amount of time has passed or they never got to be born.”

You started crying again, but this time it was out of relief that he understood. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he held you. After you let it out, he walked you to the fresher so you both could get cleaned up. He gently washed you, knowing how exhausted you’d become. He helped you get into clean clothes and started some laundry. You made some food, choosing something easy, but enough to keep you both going. That night you got into bed together, holding each other close, whispering and kissing your ‘I love yous,’ and in your hearts you said goodnight to your little soldier.

#tw miscarriage #miscarriage #lost pregnancy #loss of a child #tw: loss of a child #rex x reader #rex x f!reader #f!reader #captain rex #captain rex fanfiction #clone anon posts #rex anon #tw: miscarriage #captain rex x reader #captain rex x f!reader #pregnancy loss #tw: pregnancy loss #tw: pregnancy #reader insert

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myumyuriko · 1 year

Text

im gonna write this as fast as i can so i don't get all embarrassed

Warning(?) : clingy reader, water sex or idk (ur in a bath.. so..) blood mentions, separation anxiety!! (probably not vanilla sex so) afab anatomy :( ill try to write a amab if requested after this!!

It was another of those nights, john hasnt came home yet. God knows what the man is up to, but you kept worrying even if it was normal for him. He loves you dearly, but he wants to hide you from the world and keep you for his eyes only. At the start, you thought it was odd, but once you learned more about him you understood. You had to, if you wanted to see him at all.

It's been so long since you had a bath, you've forgotten what it felt like to just relax

"Ah, it feels so nice to just be in a nice clean house again" you had thought, after been in hiding for so long after johns last mission. The target managed to find your house, yet didnt catch you due to your training your lover put you through. You know he means well, he didnt want to lose you.

As you listened to music over the speaker you werent able to hear the door unlock, not knowing who it was your guard was still down. You missed him, awfully. You'd do anything to see him again. Anything.

"Y/N? Is that you? " you heard muffled through the door. Guessing you knew it was john, it could only be him. If anyone knew of you god knows what would happen to them when he, john found out.

"Ah! Yes! In the bath" you giggled

So many thoughts rushes into his head when he heard about that, impatiently wanting, yearning to see you yet keeping his pace under control

You heard the door open only to see the blood covered man's face soften when he saw your body, your plush, squishy yet cute body.

"Don't just stare my love, you can get in.. If you want to!! I know you just came back"

"I'm gonna do more than just stare" he stated, immediately undressing and started to get in the bath with you. Just when you thought he was too tired for it he pulled you into a kiss, ah, how soft yet messy it was. He was such a good kisser you wanted it all over your body. So did he.

You felt something when you sat on his lap you already knew, but he couldn't forget about you, leaving you unattended barely knowing any details? How cruel! Gently snaking his hands around your leg lifting it up so he can see it. See all of you, for who you truly are, his lover.

"I missed you so, my dear. " he said pushing his finger into your wet slit trying to ease into you he kissed your cheek.

"Ah, I did t-to be careful please" you stuttered, only natural as how big his fingers were for such a well built man.

"Mmh, but what if i dont want to? I want to ravish you. I want you, only you. " he said while starting to pump his fingers in and out. Forgetting about the water as it nearly started to overflow.

"Mm so wet for me yes? Do you think you're ready? " whispered into your ear.

"I ugh I think"

"I wont stop until all of me is inside of you, you only deserve the best for being so patient. " with those words, you prepared yourself.

"More. Give me more John please, I need all of it" Who was he to deny? With those words he pounded into your sopping cunt, as you pulled him closer with your legs finally reaching your cervix. Sweet, yet bitter feeling as you scratched his back looking for something to grip onto. That only fueled him more to please every part of you until you forgave him for leaving so fast like that.

"Of course, my princess, only for you. I want to breed you. I want to see it flow out. Don't let a drop. Out okay? If you do ill have to push it all back in. " he said, nearly cumming another time, so sore, he was needing to finish soon. And he knew. He knew you had to too, legs already given out? How sad.

As your walls squeezed around him one last time he emptied all of him inside of you. Feeling his once hard cock, soften insidd you, you knew it was time to get out the bath.

"Mm~ John, its time to get outt" you softly said

"I know my love, just making sure it stays, I meant what I said. I want to breed you. And, if it doesn't take ill do it again. And again until it does." With that, your ears turned red.

AAAAAH I HOPE THIS IS GOOD ITS MY FIRST TIME WRITING 😢

#john wick #keanu reeves #john wick smut #jw4 #smut #im so down bad for john wick

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nocompromise-noregrets · 1 month

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20 questions for fic writers

The impossibly lovely @mihrsuri tagged me in this a couple of weeks ago, and I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get round to it - but I find myself in need of distraction, just a little bit, as Last Cat Standing is in the veterinary hospital getting his radioactive iodine treatment for his thyroid, and we can't have him back for maybe ten days as he's going to be somewhat radioactive for a little while; I'm sure he's going to be fine (this is the treatment described to me by the treating vet as both 'the gold standard' and 'magical', in that it's effective in 99.5% of cases, and in the 0.5% it isn't, they just give it another go and then it's effective), but we haven't had an entirely cat-free house for this long in 20 years, and I'm feeling a bit weird about it. Also I'm procrastinating finishing off an essay plan (I'd rather just write the damn essay but no, we have to submit a plan for tutor feedback to make sure we're on the right lines, and as you all know by now, that's really not how I work XD )

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 362 (plus another 76 on the other account for the fandom that does not speak its name...)

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 1,491,388 (good grief; nearly 1.5 million?! and if you add in the 270,606 on the other account, that's 1,761,994 O.O )

3. What fandoms do you write for? Tolkien (chiefly the Hobbit movies, and LotR, a mix of movie and book-'verse); King Arthur (2004); Fisherman's Friends (fandom of one); The Alienist (TV; occasionally); Marvel (occasionally, chiefly bits of the MCU and X-Men comics/Evolution); Top Gun (here and there) - and a bewildering number of others...

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? My Heart Is An Empty Vessel (621); Shape Up (422); Safe (414); Not Alone (413); The Unworn Jumpers of Molly Weasley (343)

This is bewildering but also a fine illustration of the vagaries of AO3 and the absolute folly of measuring anything by the amount of kudos a fic has: Empty Vessel is three and a half years old, took two years to post and has 115 chapters, so was at the top of the tag many many times over those two years. Shape Up and Safe were written and posted not long after Top Gun: Maverick came out (I don't know how busy the tag still is, but it was very busy when the film came out so the fics in that fandom got a lot of interaction because a lot of people were there looking for fics) and are both one-shots. Not Alone is also a one-shot (for X-Men: Evolution) and has been up on AO3 for nearly twelve years (and has had a bit of a boost with the release of X-Men '97). And Unworn Jumpers (on which I really ought to put some sort of disclaimer, along with the small handful of other ancient HP fics I've got up there) is a seasonal one-shot that's been up for over ten years and tends to get a bit of a boost every December. So *shrugs* go figure. And if anyone wants to help the only HP fic in the top five not be in the top five any more, Come Home is only 36 behind it, and it is fluffy and cute and has Elrohir persuading Maglor to come to Imladris for Midwinter somewhat in the guise of the Elfling he hasn't been for a very long time... :D

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes. Sometimes it takes me a while (oh god six months, but I got up to speed with them all and now I'm trying to make sure I do it within a week) as I am a champion procrastinator but I feel it's important for me to say thank you. And sometimes squee a bit. :D And sometimes it makes me a new friend, which is extra-awesome.

I have a few very very old comments on the stuff I posted before 2020 which I never did get round to answering, which I feel bad about, but I also feel like it would be weird to go back and answer them now...I dunno, what do you guys think?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don't do angsty endings very often, but The Last Watch (in which Bard dies) is really sad, and Never Forgotten and See This Storm Through (in which Sigrid and Thranduil comfort each other after the funeral, and Legolas comes home to Dale to look after his father and his family and grieve with them, respectively) are almost as sad although they both end with a small amount of hope.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Ah, most of my fics end happily :D I'm far too tired for anything but, most of the time, these days. But let's face it, My Heart Is An Empty Vessel ends with a coronation and a wedding (spoiler alert! XD ) so let's go for that one.

8. Do you get hate on fics? I am lucky; the closest I've had was some anon complaining about Empty-Handed being a spoiler for the then-unposted Empty Vessel although the events it 'spoiled' were inevitable in the context of a mortal-immortal relationship, and someone whingeing in a bookmark comment that Thorin and Bilbo don't even talk until the end of Mr Underhill's Finest Seafood Specialities, thus completely missing the point of the fic (and the 'past' after the pairing tag) - it wasn't about them - which made me chuckle as much as the rudeness annoyed me.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Sometimes. I have phases when I feel like it, and (much longer) phases when I don't. It's generally only fairly tame and euphemistic (with the single and solitary exception of that one hanahaki fic about the twins the premise for which, although not the smut, came to me in a dream) and probably not all that imaginative since, as the acest of aces, the whole idea completely bewilders me XD

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Not unless you count various different parts of the Tolkien legendarium. My brain just doesn't work that way.

11. (there doesn't seem to be a question 11; I feel like this might be one of those Tumblr traditions, as I've definitely done question memes on here before that have been lacking in a question 11...)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I have! I am deeply honoured that my KA fic Anniversaries was translated into Russian by Elenabu some years ago, and It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like... appears on Lofter in Mandarin, translated by AntheaXi. There were a couple of other Russian translations of some of my very old stories, but that was 15 or 20 years ago and I can't actually remember which or where.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I have! A long long time ago, the fic that eventually became the original novel that is Two of a Kind, the tale of Hal and Jack, was a co-production, and I really enjoy bouncing ideas back and forth - and of course, there is the Tudors OT3-'verse fandom stuff that @mihrsuri and I have been pinging to and fro just recently, which is also hugely enjoyable. :D :D :D

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Oh, too many to name! Gawain/Galahad from KA2004, the bi widower dads, Legolas/Imrahil, Elladan/Elrohir, Erestor/Glorfindel, Sigrid/Tauriel, to name but a few.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I am determined to finish All I Want Is You. I am also determined to finish part whatever it is now of It's Always Been You, although that's been on the back burner for a long long time. There's one WIP on the other account which I'm also determined to finish although who knows if I'll ever get there. I'm not one for saying never, though. I was out of Tolkien fandom for 16 years, and after the fandom that does not speak its name fizzled out, I genuinely thought I'd never write again. And yet...here I am.

16. What are your writing strengths? Ooooh, I dunno. Spelling, punctuation and grammar, dialogue, leavening the serious romantic stuff with a bit of humour, kindness and love for the characters and settings, happy endings and quite a lot of fluff. :D

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Plot. XD Can't plot to save my life.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Only when necessary for character reasons, and always provide a translation. Otherwise you're shutting out readers who don't understand (unless it's not important that they actually understand precisely what's being said as long as they get the gist).

19. First fandom you wrote for? Knowingly? X-Men (comics), and that fic is here, although I posted it ten-odd years after first posting it to ff.net.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? All of them. I cannot possibly choose.

Thank you so much for the tag, lovely! Entirely no-obligation tags go to @lemurious, @verecunda, @writerman, @scary-grace, @seagull-energy, @herawell, @thenookienostradamus, @sallysavestheday, @myeaglesong, @palavapeite, @bigneonglitter, @bishkebab, @peonybroadbeltofbuckland, @redeemer46, @spiced-wine-fic and anyone else who wants to do this - if you see this and fancy it, please consider yourself well and truly tagged!

#tag game #my writing #wheeeee thank you! <333333

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absent-o-minded · 2 years

Text

Uh Oh

The YR Season 2 Teaser dropped yesterday? You know what that means ! *Fires up the Chainsaw*

The Palace:

Personally, I think it was very clever of the YR PR team to release the first 4 minutes of Season 2 in replacement of a supposed trailer (eventhough one will likely come) because this does something very different to that of a montage of clipped, edited snippets throughout the entire season - Here, we're given a tonal opening.

Right from the get go, the transition from Wille's soft, intimate dream sequence to reality is indicated through a colour shift, and thus within moments of 0 dialogue an obscure location setting, we understand the gravity that the consequences of Season 1 has had. The golden-hued, saturated colour composition of Wille's dream is ruptured upon opening his eyes, whereby a greyish-blue seeps in through the curtains and he remembers where he has woken up. Simon isn't here. Actually, he never was. Unfortunately, Wille is in the single worst place on Earth. The Palace.

Even just by this subtle indication, the Palace becomes this sterile, de-saturated environment and we realise that the extent of the ending of S1 has, in fact, extended to the building itself. To Wille, the Palace takes upon this sombre reminder of the loss of hope. And despite never being a home, it's even less of a house now, because it's haunted.

The Walk:

This idea of the Palace being haunted is solidified in this small scene because Wille takes on the persona of a ghost.

The interaction between himself and the Cleaner/Housekeeper is weird, especially considering the royal settings, because all usual pleasantries are abandoned. Instead, Wille walks past, and she offers him no more then a quick glance, before continuing with her work. And it's not a look of acknowledgement either, it's more so the look you give when you hear a noise, wondering where it came from.

In turn, the camera follows him through the dimly-lit corridor as he stalks through it, the white shirt making him look almost-hollow. It's hinted at the gothic and I love it, because it makes so much sense. When a character is ruined, deprived and lost, they're not really full anymore, they're drifting through states longing for warmth. That's what Wille is doing right now. All of his desires (as seen in the very first 20 seconds) are confined to dreams, where he can escape the sadness of reality and experience a different plain, but that is his only solace.

Even now, he is both unrecognisable to himself and to staff of the palace. He's so far from who he was that when he got so close to experiencing something that felt like his, it was brutally stripped away and stomped on. Now, all that's left is himself (whoever that is) an his grief (wherever that's getting stored - It's pestering and sweltering). This is really just me wanting to start a ghost choir tbh.

The Blazer and The Portrait:

How has all of this pain, this line of ascension, this sense of missing and longing and wishing been compacted into a blazer? Erik's blazer.

I could cry over this picture - It doesn't fit at all. It's too big on the arms and at the waist. The crown has lost all of its significance, because now the blazer grips the body, but on Wille it's oversized because it was never meant for him. None of this was ever really meant for him. None of the plans made were catered towards him, the narrative followed someone else and he was supposed to be a supporter. A bystander. But now, the room is empty. The stand holds a piece of what waits for him, but it feels all too wrong and uncomfortable because it was Eriks.

His body is distorted in it because he's trying to fit the role of something that was never tailored to him, but he's desperate to feel some sort of closeness to Erik. He's hugging it tighter around himself in the hopes that he'll feel like Erik, assured and confidant, or even better, that he'll feel Erik, his compassion and his warmth. He's just a kid. Isn't that enough? He's just a kid who misses his big brother and who just wants a hug.

Not just this, but Erik's portrait is in the frame and is placed behind Wille, which has so many meanings, such as: 1.) Erik is subverting the theme of pressured surveillance by looking almost fondly, or sadly on his doting brother, like he understands that from his death, Wille now must fill his shoes, and he has to bare witness to the trials and tribulations that Wille is about to face, 2.) Wille is trying to emulate Erik's confidence and grace, of which are all encapsulated in this blazer as the framing lends itself to parallelism - The blazers present on Erik, but it looks neater, refined, right, like it's meant to, but on Wille it just looks strange.

How else can you say 'I miss you so much' when the other person isn't here to hear it? How else can you articulate 'I wish you were here. Or at least, I wish I were more like you, so then maybe in some part you would be here.' other than trying to picture their clothes, their face, their eyes? How else are you supposed to ask 'God, I wish that you would tell me what do to. How did you do it so well? How do I do it as well as you?' other than wearing their blazer and hoping that it'll wrap you up and take you away from all fo this? When you can't sleep, and you can't weep, and you can't put a name to your pain, what else are you meant to do than miss them and hope that it's enough?

The Tin:

I know I said that I could cry at the last picture, but this really is the last reason to push the stake further in. Just look at it, it's so-

Of course, just to plop the cherry on top of the cake, Wille ruffles in the inside pockets and finds this little tin (Is it a match tin?) engraved with 'Once A Brother, Always A Brother'.

This little addition offers the only reciprocal of Wille's love, as well as offering the only validation of his feelings, because it works both ways. As well as being Crown Prince, Erik was the only one that Wille wholeheartedly trusted, and felt like he could tell anything to. That's a special person, and it's a unique relationship when it happens, one that is precious. But Wille is also Erik's brother, and there is likely a part of him that feels responsible for carrying on his legacy, both out of love and out of duty. In this situation, the lines are so blurred it's hard to tell where devotion starts and obligation ends.

Not just this, but the fact that it's a match tin (as far as I'm aware) and in S1 Wille's flame was 'ignited' shows how Erik has always been present throughout Wille's journey.

I would just want Wille to know that Erik loved him so much, and that he would've been so supportive and proud of his little brother. Now I'm going to go burst into flames tears, 'xcuse me.

The Burning and The Mirror:

Now, I'm no pyromaniac, nor have I dabbled in arson, HOWEVER-

Notice how, through the framing, Wille's face somewhat replaces August' in the mirror after Wille has burned it away? His flame has been ignited, and now it's manifesting within himself. The burning itself is significant because it's an act of self-rebellion, and provides a little bit of catharsis.

Through this, Wille is actively erasing August from the narrative and distancing him from his Brother, who isn't here to do it for himself. Perhaps one of the main things that Wille is trying to protect is Eriks legacy, particularly in relation to his previous friendship with August, who Wille already stated at the end of S1 is "no longer a part of his family." It's just that now Wille has reason to act upon his desires.

But also, the way in which the 4th wall is broken is equally as significant - Beforehand, when Wille first breaks the 4th wall in S1, it's in the Apology issue and the camera creeps closer until it receives the warranted reaction from something that is suffocating and intrusive. But now, he breaks the fourth wall through the perspective of the mirror, looking at us through a reflection, as if we're stood behind him (The question this begs is whether that's in solidarity for Reputation Era or that we as an audience represent the lingering presences that he's ready to banish, displaying the conviction he has about August).

Either way, our presence is acknowledged, this time against the framework of consequences as opposed to the previous one in S1 of expectation.

And I understand that revenge is not always the healthiest means of healing.....HOWEVER-

The Eriksson House and The Acceptance:

IT'S THE GROOVY GANG !

This is a slightly different representation of the Eriksson home than we've seen before, as usually it's dark and the mains rooms we've seen are the kitchen, the living room and Simon's room, and initially when I watched this I thought that they had moved (The threat of getting doxxed, the presence of the press etc) It could be a possibility, or it's just that we're seeing a different image of the home.

It appears much lighter and airier, comprised of pastel greens and windows, which offers the impression that maybe the family are in a better place now due to the stark contrast between this home and the Palace.

Also - I'm guessing that the letter Sara gets is for her acceptance for residency at Hillerska, right? But the placement of the acceptance letter is both for narrative sake, like kickstarting Sara's journey regarding staying at Hillerska as well as externalising her wants - Acceptance. Throughout S1, that is all Sara wanted and all that she craved for, and now, this is the first sign of her integrating into the Hillerska environment and hoping that she is accepted beyond admission. I'm really excited to see how her story plays out !

HONOURABLE MENTIONS:

Wille simply just closing the door on Kristina. No shouting. No crying. No clipped words. Just the simple act of rejection.

More indications to August' eating disorder/body dysmorphia (He's an extremely nuanced character, and I still stand by the fact that resenting a character for their actions whilst acknowledging their nuanced portrayal are not mutually exclusive. Thanks critical thinking, luv you babes <3)

The music that played after Wille lit up Augusts face? Already SLAPS. I'm so excited for this years soundtrack !

Well, I'm down with freshers flu atm so this genuinely took all of my brain power and now I am s P e N t. But, please let me know what you think !

#young royals #young royals spoilers #young royals netflix #yr season 2 spoilers #yr s2 spoilers #young royals season 2 spoilers #lisa ambjörn #analysis #it's like giving crumbs to pigeons out here #one 4 minute teaser and suddenly none of us know how to act anymore

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