#still not a worse birthday than last year's but i do feel sad :(

[greatooglymooglyyy]

The Last Ride Chapter Four (AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo)

summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.

requested and advised by @rootbeerworshiper

contains: angst, verbal fighting, feelings of loneliness, general sadness, fluff, parental issues, 2.1k words

a/n: sheesh. that's all i gotta say

the last ride masterlist

For the first time in my life, my alarm wakes me up on my birthday. Instead of forcing myself to get up quickly how I’ve trained myself to, I allow myself a few moments to stare up at the ceiling, dreading the lack of notifications on my phone.

My dad had sent out a quick and haphazard message the night before, not even waiting until midnight, and I’m under no delusion that anyone else cares enough to call.

Sighing, I push myself up out of the bed and head to the shower, longing for the chance to have some part of me feel brand new.

When I’m out and dressed, I stare in the mirror for an embarrassing amount of time. I turn my face from side to side, smoothing my fingertips over nonexistent wrinkles and laugh lines that should be deeper. Every year, I hope that I’ll look into my reflection and see someone different. I cross my fingers for a version of myself that feels wiser, kinder, and more comfortable in her skin. But standing here now, freshly nineteen, the only thing I see is a girl who’s running out of time.

****************************

After a very uneventful breakfast, I head out to meet Chris to help with the fence repairs. I’m hoping he’s in the mood to take it easy on me today but of course, he’s feeling the opposite.

From the moment I hop in the pickup truck, he’s throwing task after task at me. By the time the sun is high in the sky, I’m exhausted and defeated. But when I lean against the wall for a second, Chris happens to come around the corner, scowling. “We ain’t got time to lay around today, Scotch. We’re behind on yields.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Go take some hay out to the boys at the stables. Take the pickup truck and I’ll have someone drop me around there in a second.” He cuts in, tossing me the keys and walking away before I can respond.

I grit my teeth to keep from throwing curses at his back and do what he said, motivated by excitement to visit the horses.

When I walk in, all I see is chaos. Cinnamon’s got a mean grip on some poor guy’s shirt and is refusing to release him.

“Let me go, you mean old bastard!” The boy howls. Why he doesn’t just take his shirt off and charge it as a loss? I don’t know.

Another worker brandishes a whip to scare her into letting go but Cinnamon doesn’t even flinch. My kind of woman.

Despite how entertained I am, I decide to intervene, hoping my girl still has a soft spot for me. Cautiously, I approach and coo for her attention. She seems to physically relax at the sight of me so I reach out and stroke the side of her face until she releases him. When she does, I reach down for her treats and feed her some, offering praise. “Good girl. What’d that bad man do to you? Huh?”

“I ain’t do a thing to that monster!” He wails, scrambling up from where he fell when she let him go. I ignore his whining and tell the boys about the hay before turning my attention back to Cinnamon. I notice she’s still wearing her head collar, which is probably what he was trying to remove, so I take it off for her and she neighs in satisfaction.

Someone clears their throat behind me and I groan internally, knowing who it is before I even turn.

“Did you not hear me when I said we had a busy day?” Chris asks, his voice rough with irritation. I sigh before giving him a brief explanation, even though I know he won’t care.

He doesn’t say anything for a second but then walks over, his voice softening slightly. “Alright. Go help them unload before I dock your pay.”

****************************

When it’s time for lunch, we do what’s become our custom and sit together in the bed of the truck to eat. Sometimes the other ranch hands join us, crowding around and telling inside jokes, but most days it’s just the two of us.

Today, we eat in comfortable silence, my mind too full of self-pitying sadness to conjure up conversation. Chris nudges me with his shoulder and I look over. “What’s up with you today? Missing on the mall?”

I roll my eyes at his joke, the small barb cutting me more than it would any other day. “I’m sick of you acting like it’s impossible for me to have any depth.”

He laughs, not picking up on my tone. “C’mon, Y/N. You’re as deep as an autumn puddle, darlin’.

Anger pours over me like a cold shower and I slide off the truck, packing up my trash. “Fuck you, Chris.”

“Whoa.” He says, eyes widening. “Relax. It was a joke.”

“Was it?” I ask glaring.

“I mean…” He sighs and takes off his hat to scratch his head. “I’m just sayin’. You’ve had it easy. Perfect parents who gave you the perfect life. Not all of us have it that good.”

It’s my turn to laugh at the audacity he has to make statements like that about my life. “You know what, Chris? You’re right. I’ve been privileged. I’ve been lucky. But what do you know about my life? What’s so perfect about it? Is it the friends that couldn’t care less about me? My parents? You mean the woman who ran out on us when I was ten? Have you ever spent your birthday waiting on the stairs for your mother to come back because you convinced yourself she wouldn’t miss it?”

I scoff in disgust, despising the sympathetic look on his face. “Or did you mean my dad? The one who spent my entire life throwing gifts at me and then punished me for being who he raised me to be? So fucking perfect. Thanks for pointing that out.”

Chris opens and shuts his mouth twice, finally speechless. He reaches out a hand as if to pull into him. “Scotch-”

I back away so he can’t touch me. “Save it. God. You are so self-righteous about who you think I am. But all you’ve done since I got here is pretend you know everything about me.”

I storm off, spotting my uncle and asking him if I could work under him instead today.

“Did you talk to Chris about it?” He asks hesitantly, looking over my shoulder at him. I nod quickly and he raises an eyebrow, clearly seeing through me. But at the look of desperation on my face, he caves and points me towards the goats.

****************************

When Aunt Birdie calls me for dinner, I’m tempted to tell her I’m not hungry but I know she will insist. I didn’t even stop to speak to her when I got off this afternoon, just ran into my room and sunk into a bath.

I step into the kitchen with my eyes low so it’s a genuine shock when they yell out “Happy birthday”. My eyes are full of wonder when Aunt Birdie comes over with a beautiful jumbo cupcake from the local bakery. She’s placed a “19” candle in the center and hands me a lighter to make a wish.

I think about it for a second. “Can I maybe save it for later?”

“Of course, bunny. It’s your birthday. You make the rules.” Aunt Birdie answers sweetly, pushing my hair out of my face.

I look down at the cupcake again, my eyes getting teary. “I didn’t think you remembered.”

“Oh, honey. Like your dad would ever let us forget. ‘Sides, ain’t a year passed since you’ve been on this earth that I ain’t mailed you out a card.” Uncle Buck chimes in.

And it’s all I have not to shatter into a million pieces on the floor.

****************************

That night I sit crisscrossed in my bed thinking over my wish. The lamplight tinges the room yellow and it just makes me sadder.

I pick up the lighter, my hands shaking as I spark it. I close my eyes, feeling childish but not willing to risk wasting my wish.

“I wish to never feel this alone again.” I whisper, my voice quivering before I blow out the fire. As soon as I do, whatever was keeping me together inside snaps and I fall apart.

I put the cupcake on the nightstand and curl around myself, sobbing until I shake into my pillow. I stay like that until I feel like there are no tears left in my body until the sobs turn to sniffling hiccups.

Just as I start to calm down I hear a sharp knock on my window and sit up. I wipe my face quickly and peer out, staying far back in case I have to yell for my uncle.

“It’s me.” A voice calls and I step closer on instinct. Chris is kneeling in the grass outside my window, his face pressed close to the glass.

Confused, I unlatch the window and slide it up, going to my knees so we can be at eye level. He leans his head into my room, his hair covered by a new trucker hat and a gold chain dangling from his neck.

I look down at my pajamas and cringe. He would come to my window on washday. My eyes must be bloodshot from the way I just cried but Chris doesn’t comment. He just crosses his arms on the windowsill, looking past me into the room.

“You decorated.” He notes with a small smile, nodding at the new rug and bedspread. I’d hardly call it interior design.

“Well, you know me. Too shallow to leave well enough alone.” I answer bitterly, bracing a hand against the wall.

Chris’ face drops at this and he rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, about that… I owe you an apology. It was a cheap shot even without knowing the whole story.”

“Mhm.” I agree, still a bit too petty to accept his apology. The silence between us becomes a bit awkward for a second before I speak. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Is that really how you see me? Just a surface level city broad?” I ask quietly after a beat and my heart hammers when he hesitates.

“Do you want me to be honest?” He asks cautiously, using the same tone he approaches the bulls with. I nod, despite not knowing whether it’s the truth.

Chris turns his trucker hat backward, giving me a good look in his eyes and studying me before he answers. “I did at first. Now I reckon that’s just what you want everyone to think.”

His statement settles over me like the shine from a spotlight. But for once it doesn’t feel like an accusation.

“Anyway,” He starts, leaning back and picking up something from where it lays at his feet. “A little Birdie told me it was your birthday.”

Surprise must be all over my face because he grins from ear to ear as he hands me a wrapped rectangular box. I peel the paper off slowly, still in shock that he thought to get me anything and gasp when I see its shoes. Chris clears his throat like he’s nervous and I look back up at him. “Evie told me you liked hers so I just thought…” He trails off, picking at the paint on the windowsill.

I fling off the top excitedly and pull out the boots. They are gorgeous, almost an exact match to Evie’s except brown with a cut out of some flower along the side instead of a name.

“What flower is this?” I ask as I run my finger over the leather in wonder.

“Waterlilies. It’s your birth flower.” Chris answers before adding a low and embarrassed. “If you don’t like ‘em, it’s cool. I know it probably ain’t your style-”

I cut him off with a hug, wrapping my arms tight around his neck and burying my face in his shoulder. “Thank you, Chris. This means a lot.”

He freezes up at first but slowly returns my hug, pulling me closer. “Don’t mention it, Scotch.”

I finally pull away and wipe at my face, cursing myself for being so emotional today. Chris gives me a lopsided smile before he taps the window once and sighs. “I gotta get home. Get some sleep. We’ve got horses tomorrow.”

I grin back at him and nod, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “Okay. Goodnight, boss.”

When he’s gone, I pull the window back down and lock it before looking back down at the boots. I place them on my shoe rack, tossing a pair of my Ricks to the side to make room. I stare at them for a long while, the swirling feeling in my chest growing until I finally make myself go to sleep. And when I dream, it’s of fields of waterlilies.

🏷️/ @xoxo4chrisss @sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos

@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @st4rswrld @thvvluvr @sturnssmuts @littlenerdybee @sturniolossss @iloveneilperry @eclipzw @chrissloverrrrrrr16 @sstvrnioloo

#sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fic #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo angst #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x you #cowboy chris sturniolo #the last ride #nicolas sturniolo #maggie b writes #sturniolo angst #angst

[plainemmanem]

meeting steve’s parents for the first time and he gives you the little “ok so my parents are crazy” talk LOL

st-steve in his little winter vest and- and mittens and a silly winter hat sniffle sniffle

You didn’t grow up in Hawkins. To you, the “Upside Down” was just a spooky bedtime story Dustin told around the campfire. To you, Starcourt Mall was merely a burnt shell, a memory reduced to rubble and ash.

To you, “King Steve” was just a punchline between Nancy and Robin. 

The Steve you met was a nerd. Sweet and handsome, but still a total nerd. 

The first time you walked into Family Video, he nearly knocked down an endcap display on his way to come talk to you. 

His opening line was “New in town?” with a suave smirk and an awkward lean on the shelf beside you – a few tapes met the ground and he immediately shot you that adorably sheepish look as he scrambled to pick them up. 

Ever since then you were hooked. 

“Trust me, you do not wanna experience the Harrington family holiday, okay. Don’t wanna scare you off…” 

There used to be a little voice in the back of your mind feeding into your fears: that you were Steve’s dirty, little secret, that he didn’t actually want you to meet his parents, that you weren’t good enough for him. But, over time, you picked up on the little things. Little hints that he didn’t have the typical nuclear family.

The nonchalant segues anytime his mom was mentioned, the constant empty house, the lack of childhood stories or family anecdotes. The aloof response when you ask what trip his parents were on this time; “No idea” with a little shrug and a reassuring squeeze to your thigh. 

Robin had mentioned it once, but never in great detail. Something vague about them being “distant” and “cold,” hinting at something a little deeper. But it wasn’t really her place to tell you. 

Anytime you asked Steve, it always struck a nerve. He’d given you bits and pieces – mentions of forgotten birthdays and tense dinners – but you never really got the full extent of it. The truth was always hidden behind an indifferent laugh and a biting joke, tone blasé. Your heart ached for him. 

“Yeah, well, my mom didn’t even know I was allergic to peas until I was five, so… Maybe that’s where I get my remarkable observation skills.”

 You never wanted to pry, but you wanted him to know that you were there if he ever wanted to talk about it. 

If he could have, Steve would have skipped the Christmas dinner all together. A sad microwave dinner at home still sounded more enjoyable than whatever scathing remarks his parents inevitably had planned for him.

Last year, it was his decision to skip college. This year, it would be his dazzling new job at Family Video. As if Steve didn’t already feel inadequate enough. 

Dinner at your place was obviously his first choice, but his parents had been passive aggressively hounding him for weeks to bring his new girlfriend over, and what better time than Christmas Eve? 

Steve’s dread was obvious when he stopped you in the kitchen last week.

“Hey, uh. Could I- um. Could I talk to you for a second?” He was fussing with the apple in his hands deftly as he leaned against the counter across from you.

“Oh god, am I in trouble? Did I forget to grab you something at the store, I could’ve sworn I got everything-” “No,” he chuckled a little at your concern, his face falling quickly after, eyes finding the floor. “No, it’s not that.”

His fidgeting was only getting worse and his gaze wouldn’t leave his feet as he spiraled in his own thoughts. You take a step towards him, rubbing a hand up his arm reassuringly. 

“What’s on your mind, Stevie?” Your heart clenched when his gaze met yours; he looked unsure, troubled, before hanging his head again, toe of his shoe scuffing yours and fingers playing with the hem of your jacket intuitively.

“Well, my, uh… My parents were coming home for the holidays and they wanted me to have Christmas dinner with them…” He was talking more to your feet, but you could hear the exasperation hidden behind his attempt at nonchalance. 

An understanding hum left you. Him mentioning his parents was a rarity, and you truthfully didn’t know how to react. 

He met your gaze again, tentative as he nibbled slightly on his lower lip. 

“Can you please go with me,” his meek tone took you by surprise. “I really don’t wanna go alone.” 

You had never seen your boyfriend so vulnerable. Like a light gust of wind might knock him over. He looked tired, like he had been pacing all night rather than sleeping, wrestling with his thoughts.

You immediately said yes, of course. Honestly, you could never say no to him, especially when he asked so gently, so helplessly.

The drive to the Harrington’s was quiet. An unspoken tension thickened the air, the soft music over the radio only enhancing the stuffiness of the car. 

Steve was fussing with his bottom lip and white-knuckling the wheel, only loosening his grip to run an anxious hand through his hair and adjust his rearview mirror neurotically. You were contemplating pressing him, but you knew he was on edge, the impending doom of his parents a mere six blocks away.

This was it. You were really going. 

Steve’s neighborhood was beautiful. Pristine, white houses lined the streets, covered in a blanket of fluffy, white snow. To you, it looked like a Christmas card. To Steve, it looked like death row.

Each house had unique, tasteful lights strung along the rafters. Some even had flickering candles in the windows or wreaths on the door. They blurred past as Steve drove, one by one, a flicker of light on a white canvas, then gone. Eventually, your eyes started to glaze over, all the houses starting to blend together in a mush of picturesque suburbia. 

Gradually, the houses begin to pass by slower, the details becoming clearer as the car rolls to a stop. 

Turning questioningly to Steve, you catch him already looking at you, aching to speak. His fingers tap once, twice, three times anxiously on the steering wheel before the words finally come.

“I just want to warn you.” He’s holding his breath, afraid to continue. “Well, you may already know, I mean, I’ve definitely mentioned it before – not in too many words, but we’ve definitely talked about it, and, ya know, you’re really smart so I wouldn’t be surprised if you already pieced it all together-”

You cut him off with a hand on his arm, a gentle rub, before moving up to his neck. Your fingers run soothingly through the hairs at the nape, eyes scanning his face – his knitted brows, his bitten lips, his wrinkled forehead. 

“Steve, take a breath. What’s wrong?” You try to sound casual, calming, reassuring, but it probably sounds more concerned than anything else. 

The air is tense, and Steve seems to be searching your eyes for the courage to continue. 

“Well, my parents are kind of… weird.” He doesn’t blink, too focused on reading each of your tiny microexpressions to notice. You can see him biting the inside of his cheek and you catch his eyes flicker with a touch of something: Panic? Fear? It’s hard to tell. 

Trying to suppress your own anxieties, you muster up a warm smile.

“Steve.” An airy laugh passes through your lips. “Everyone’s parents are weird. Trust me, I’ve definitely come prepared.” 

He grimaces a fraction, breaking eye contact, before looking back at you pressingly. 

“No, like… My parents are really weird.” His eyes go wide as he tries to exaggerate his point. 

“Ok… Well, what kind of weird are we talking about here?” 

A sigh leaves him. He’s never been able to make it past this part. He looks to the middle of your neck, collecting his thoughts, before starting again.

“Well… In my twenty years of life, I think my mom has told me ‘I love you’ maybe, like… once? When I was a kid or something.” His eyes flicker to yours, then back to your neck. His gaze glazes over, thinking. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard my dad say it.” 

 A burning crept up your throat. You can feel the horrified expression on your face.

You croak softly. “What-?”

But he’s already cutting you off.

“And they’re very passive aggressive. And they don’t really acknowledge other people’s accomplishments if they can help it.” He’s come back to himself a little; he still can’t meet your eyes, but he’s turned back to the wheel, starting the car up once again, his hands moving in tune with his words. “Oh- and they don’t really listen. Well, like, obviously they listen, but they don’t like listen listen if you know what I mean. It’s like they’re just kind of waiting for you to finish talking so that they can speak. Oh, and just a warning, my mom is a terrible cook, so don’t expect five star dining-”

“Steve, pull over.” The words are cold, serious, unyielding. 

“Wh-What?” He’s immediately frantic, stealing anxious glances at you as he starts pulling off to the side of the road once again. “Shit, I scared you, didn’t I? Fuck, I’m sorry. We can go home- I can drive you home?” He’s giving you that concerned, fearful look as he puts the car in park, turning to check in on you.

There’s a beat of silence, a moment of insecurity, before you turn to face him.

Warm hands cup his cheeks. Eyes remaining serious, you give him the softest, most loving look you can. “I’m sorry they treated you like that.” 

The words suck all the air from the car, and Steve can’t stand your gaze, looking down shyly, mumbling mostly to himself.

“No, I mean, it’s no big deal, it’s over now…”

Leaning over the center console, you pull him in for a soft kiss. It’s probably the gentlest kiss you’ve ever given him, and the tenderness of it makes Steve’s eyes lock with yours.

“They never should have treated you that way. It’s not ok. No one should be treated like that by their own parents. You, of all people, should not have been treated like that. You are the kindest, most caring person I know. You are not your parents. You’re better than they will ever be, ok?”

Eyes misty, he gives you a little nod in your hands, gaze flickering across your face from the intensity of it all. His hands cuff around your wrists and give a slight squeeze – a silent understanding, a thank you. 

“I’m here with you.” Your voice was barely a whisper; the words only for him. “We’re gonna do this together, ok? I don’t want you to worry about me, I can take shitty parents. I want to make sure you’re ok. You just say the word and we’ll leave. We’ll drive back to my house or a motel or something, but you do not have to stay any longer than you’re comfortable. You don’t owe them anything.” A few chestnut strands fall over his forehead, and your hand leaves his cheek just long enough to swipe them back, scanning his face, hoping to get some sort of read on his expression. 

Languidly, he peaks up at you, eyes a little glassy, holding in his emotion. 

He looks so broken. So shattered. 

You know no one has ever told him this before. 

With no words left, you give him a small nod, and he returns it with a small sniffle. Trailing up your wrists to your hands, he grabs each one and brings them to his lap, rubbing the backs pensively with his thumbs. A squeeze, then he’s pulling you into his side. His cologne envelopes you as a small kiss lands on your temple. 

He holds you a moment, breathing you in, before turning back to the wheel and putting the car in drive, keeping a vice grip on your hand the whole rest of the way. 

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington

[tomhollandisabae]

glimpse of us - lewis hamilton x reader

masterlist

fandom; formula one

summary; after your reconnection with your ex lover many things are being revealed and many other things are being said

warnings; angst like... a lot of it, mature language, brief mention of blood, pregnancy, smut (unprotected sex, fingering, foul language, daddy kink, p in v) [18+ MINORS D.N.I.]

words; 4.8k

a/n; so the song only love can hurt like this started playing while i had already begun writing this so... yeah... things are getting really heated :)

'Lewis Hamilton spotted with supermodel Bella Hadid acting cosy. '

It was the third headline you had seen that day about him and his new girl. You and Lewis had been dating for almost three years, but broke up right after his 37th birthday, due to the fact that as he claimed ‘the pressure from his working environment and you were too much’. 

He had broken your heart, yet you tried to move on and find happiness somewhere else, but how could that happen since you were seeing him literally everywhere and the fact that he was pictured with other women was making the situation for you even worse. 

It had been almost 10 months since January the 7th, yet here you were on your bathroom floor bawling your eyes out about your ex-lover. You had thought many times about texting him or calling him, but you knew better than that. If he was willing to throw away your entire relationship for his career, then you had no reason to speak to him again.  

He was now back to his old self, fooling around with supermodels and had no intention of seeing you again. Your trail of thoughts was broken by the hearing of a baby’s cry. You immediately stand up from the ground and wiped your eyes as you made your way back in your bedroom. Then, you approached the precious human being in the little crib and picked her up in your arms trying to calm her down. 

Looking down at your beautiful little new-born daughter in your arms, you couldn’t believe that you really were holding her after what you went through. To clear things out, one month ago you went into gave birth, alone as a matter of fact that you had no one to support you – not even your very religious parents that went feral in the hearing of you being pregnant out of marriage- and the result of it was a 6-hour long labour and the most painful thing you had ever experienced that almost costed you your life due to the extreme blood loss that you suffered. 

Of course, you never said anything to Lewis as a result that every time you tried to contact him in the first two months, he would shut you down or pick up the phone and without letting you speak telling you that he couldn’t waste his time trying to sort things out in his personal life since he had to focus on the new car launch. 

So, after many tries you decided that it was better that way and because you were too pissed at him, you ended up not telling him at all. And here you were now holding your tiny daughter in your arms as she had finally stopped crying and had rested her small head on your breasts. You loved her more than anything in the world and you would do anything in your power to protect her and raise her with kindness and fairness, not like your parents raised you. 

Anastasia Cinthya Hamilton would be raised in a healthy environment, away from all the drama and sadness.  

Yes, you had given her her father’s last name as you still were feeling guilty about keeping her away from him. She was part of him too, so you thought it would be fair enough to do that. Deep down you knew that Lewis loved children and that he would be the greatest father, yet the fact that he treated you like that made you cut off any contact you had with him. 

As you finally put Ana back in her crib, you heard your phone ringing. 

“Yes?” you asked curious as no one ever called you. 

“Hey y/n, I'm calling to ask about little cute baby Ana and you, how have you been?” you heard y/f/n saying from the other side of the phone. 

Y/f/n was one of the nurses that were looking after you while you were at the hospital and in those couple of days you managed to form a great friendship. 

“Oh hi, yeah we’re great, what about you?” you asked. 

“I'm fine too. So I was thinking that if I was to find you a well trusted baby sister, would you come with me at a party?” she suggested. 

Truth was that it had been ages since the last time you had been at a party, but your daughter wasn’t even a month old so you couldn’t leave her just like that. 

“I really appreciate that y/f/n, but I can’t leave Ana yet. I'm sorry.” you apologised. 

“it’s okay, I understand. We have plenty of time ahead of us.” she replied. 

“Yeah sure, look I gotta go, but please feel free to ring me if you need anything.” you said. 

“Will do, take care.” she answered and with that you hung up the phone. 

Now it had been five hours after your friend had called you and suddenly you heard your door bell ringing. Terrified was a poor word to even describe how you were feeling at that moment, so after you made sure that your daughter was safe, you made you way to open the door.  

“Who is it?” you asked loudly behind the door. 

“Hey y/n” you heard your heavily drunk friend saying from the other side. 

“y/f/n?” you finally opened the door, but what you saw made your blood run cold in your veins. “What... what happened?” you asked with wide eyes while you were already feeling on the verge of crying. 

Without waiting any longer, you proceeded to help her inside as you led her towards the sofa where sooner or later, she passed out. 

“y/n...” you heard him saying your name from behind you. 

“What the hell is going on?” you looked sternly at him as you turned around. 

“I'm sorry, I didn’t know you were leaving here. She was pretty drunk and I offered to take her at her house, but she told me to bring her here.” he tried to explain. 

“Yeah, clearly you wanted to take her at her house...” you exclaimed in a whisper, but he heard you. 

“What do you mean?” he raised an eyebrow. 

“Okay Lewis, you brought her here, she’ll be fine. Now you can get out of my house.” you rolled your eyes and pointed at your front door. 

“y/n please, can we talk?” he pleaded. 

“Talk? Talk about what Lewis? You made it pretty clear all those months ago that you didn’t want to talk to me anymore? So, for the last time, please, get out of my house.” 

Before he could respond a baby’s cry was heard throughout the house that made you freeze at your feet, while Lewis looked at you in question. 

“what’s that?” he asked curious. 

“it’s none of your business, now get out!” you instructed but he didn’t listen. 

“y/n a baby’s is crying upstairs.” he said. 

“Yeah, I'm babysitting a friend's baby, so what?” you lied as you hurriedly made your way in your bedroom, hoping that he would leave, yet you were wrong as a matter of fact that he followed you. 

When you entered your room, Anastasia was crying in her crib so you rushed to her side and immediately picked her up. You walked to your bed and sat on the edge as you lowered your shirt to feed her as it was time for that. After she placed her small lips around your nipple and started feeding, you lifted your head and realised that Lewis had seen everything as he was standing right in front of you, mouth opened wide. 

“Lewis...” you tried to say something, but failed. 

“What... I... how? I don’t understand...” he was out of words. 

“Just let me finish feeding her and I'll explain everything, okay?” you sighed and he nodded, yet didn’t make the effort to exit your room. 

“Will you please go downstairs. You're stressing me out and she can feel it too, please.” you told him. 

“Yeah, okay...sorry” and with that he left. 

After a while, you made your way downstairs too where you found Lewis sat on one of the chairs in your kitchen with his head in his hands. 

“Lewis...” you called out his name lowly and he lifted his head to face you. 

“Did I really meant that little to you?” he asked with a sad expression. 

“What?” you exclaimed shocked and he stood up. 

“For the past 10 months I've been trying to get over you, I've been literally sleeping around with every woman I find so I can forget about you, but always fail, yet here you are having already moved on with someone else and not only that, but you also have that bastard's baby too.” he yelled at you and you couldn’t help, but just stare at him as if he had grown another head. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” you threw your hands in the air. 

“You know what I'm talking about y/n... did you even really loved me?” this was the final straw as you lifted your hand and slapped him across his face. 

“don’t ever fucking say that again” you pointed your finger at him “you were the one that broke up with me because apparently your career was far more important than I was. I tried to contact you for months, but you always found a way to shut me down. I called you, texted you, went to your house, your parents' house, your friends’ and they all looked at me like I was someone to pity over and back then... maybe I was, because I was desperate, I didn’t know what to do and all of them were telling me that as much as they appreciated me you needed your space. I had no one Lewis, no one! My parents kicked me out of their house as soon as they found out I was pregnant and not only that, but I also lost my job too and thank God I had my own savings because me and my daughter had no one to rely on and as a pregnant woman no one hired me anymore. So don’t you dare ask me if I ever really loved you, when I obviously did. I was alone, pregnant, with no one to comfort me and tell me that everything will be alright, yet I still fucking loved you.” by the time you stopped talking you were already crying while Lewis was just looking at you, trying to find the right words to speak. 

“Say something...” you said in a whisper. 

“I... I don’t understand... how... it doesn’t make sense.” he simply said. 

“What doesn't make sense Lewis, what exactly? Tell me!” you exhaled. 

“she’s so... small... when...” he looked at you desperate.  

“After everything I told you, you still really think that she is some else’s baby?” you exclaimed crying as his words had really hurt you. 

“she’s...” his eyes welled up with tears. 

“she’s yours Lewis... she’s your daughter.” you finally told him and you saw a tear rolling down on his cheek. 

You wanted to hug him, not bearing the image of him crying, but after what he had done to you, you couldn’t bring yourself to comfort him anymore. The wound was deeper than you thought it was and it was hurting like hell. 

“Mine...” he whispered as he sat down on the chair “you tried to tell me...” he looked up at you searching for an answer and as you nodded, he continued “and I avoided you every single time...” he let out a sob as he buried his face in the palms of his hands. 

“I have a daughter” he sniffled “I have everything I've ever wanted in this world and more. I have the most beautiful daughter in the world with the woman of my dreams and I was such a fool to let all go” he sobbed even harder this time. 

You couldn’t help it anymore and kneeled down in front of him as you placed your hands on his knees in a way to calm him down. 

“Lewis... please don’t cry. I understand if you don’t want this, but I had to tell you, I already was feeling so guilty for not doing so all those months bu--” he cut you off. 

“y/n are you crazy?” he looked at you “this is all I've ever wanted and you think I'm going to throw it away. I should be apologizing; I should be on my knees for all I caused to you. I made you go through the toughest stage of your life in such way, you went through so much, all by yourself, while I was all over the place getting drunk and being photographed with every single woman that was crossing my path... I'm so fucking disgusted with myself.”  

“you’re right” you finally responded and he looked at you with a hurt expression “but I'm willing to forgive and forget for Ana’s shake. I want her to grow up with both her parents by her side. I put aside my ego and everything for her, she deserves to have both of us in her life. She's half me and you after all.” you explained. 

“I want y--” you cut him off. 

“No! I will only accept you in my life as the father of my daughter and nothing else. You threw away your chance about us being a normal family the day you broke my heart” 

“What if I try and become better?” he asked in despair. 

“No Lewis, I can’t go through this again. I'm not trying to risk my sanity anymore. Have you ever imagined what I felt when I was seeing you being photographed going out with all those supermodels that had managed to have what I had for three years, and trust when I'm telling you that they were the best years of my entire life. My heart breaks even more  when I'm reading articles about you being with someone else and I've been trying so hard to get over you and by the eighth month of my pregnancy I had partly succeed that, but then when Ana was born and I looked at her in my arms, I realised that she has your eyes and I couldn’t be more happy about it, because after all I still have a piece of you that no one can ever take away from me” you finally stood up and he followed you too. 

“I'm sorry... I always was thinking about you and that was the issue. I thought that if I was with some other woman, I would apparently get over you and forget about you, but every single time I was looking at the other person in front of me a glimpse of us was making its way in my mind and the past was hurting me so much. Later I realised that I was trying to found you in them, but I never succeeded, because no one will ever replace you in my heart.” he confessed making go speechless for a while. 

“Yeah... umm" you wiped your tears “it’s okay. Now we... we have to work out our relationship... as parents and only as that... for Ana’s shake.” you bit your bottom lip. 

“Yeah of course... I can do that and I promise you y/n that I will show you how sorry I am for treating you like that.” he took a deep breath. 

“it’s okay Lewis. I'm sure that if you knew, things would be different.” you shrugged. 

“Yes, they would be, but I was too foolish to not listen to you y/n, you were so desperate to get in touch with me and I--” you interrupted him. 

“Ana is my top priority right now Lewis, I'm willing to forget everything for her sake.” you said quietly. 

“Okay...” 

“Do you still leave...?” you tried to ask. 

“At our old house?” he said and you nodded “no, I couldn’t stay there anymore. Your perfume was all over the place and I couldn’t let go of you like that.” he replied. 

“Makes sense... I came by and no one ever answered.” you shook your head “you can stay over tonight at the guest bedroom so you can see Ana tomorrow because I put her to sleep now.” you suggested. 

“I don’t want to be a burde--” 

“You will never be a burned Lewis... please stay.” you looked at him with pleading eyes.  

“Okay...” he said in a whisper. 

After you helped him settle down in the guest bedroom and you took care of your friend that was sleeping on your couch, you finally laid down on your bed and tried to sleep. 

However, two hours had went by and still you were far from asleep. You couldn’t believe that Lewis, the man that you loved for all these years was sleeping in your house. You couldn’t believe that after almost ten months he was at your house a few feet away from you. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by a door opening and closing as you heard someone walking downstairs. You knew it was him and as a matter of fact that you couldn't sleep you decided to follow him. 

“hi” you said quietly as you made your way to the kitchen where you found him drinking water. 

“hey” he said as he turned to look at you while he placed the glass down “can’t sleep either?” he asked. 

“Something like that...” you said and he nodded. 

You just stood in front of him, only then realising that you had no reason to follow him downstairs. Lewis was looking at you very carefully trying to understand what you really wanted. 

“I should go back to bed--” as you were about to leave, he grabbed your wrist softly and turned you back around. 

“y/n... please don’t go.” he got closer to you and placed both his hands on either side of your face. 

“Lewis please...” you tried to get out of his grip, not putting too much effort though, as you had really missed his touch. 

“I know that I let you down y/n, but please let me make it up to you, let me be there for you from now on. Please, let me make up for the time I was away, let me make up for what I did to you, because I promise you y/n, I will be there for you and Ana for the rest of my life. You are the most important people in the world for me and I know that because the season is not over yet, I will not be able to be with you as much as I really want, so please those days in between race weekends let us be a family, let us at least try to become a real family. Please...” he lowered his head making your foreheads touch. 

“Lewis I told you... you can be in Ana’s life as much as you want, we can even move in together for the first months, but nothing else can happen. It's over between us Lewis.” you tried to explain. 

“Please, I can’t go on like that; knowing now what I have and what I could have...” he begged. 

“Lewis...” you breathed out against his lips. 

“Please...” his lips slightly touching yours. 

You tried to speak, but without even realising it, his lips were attached to yours in a mtter pf seconds. You found yourself lost in the kiss as you had missed the feeling of him against you. His calloused hands gripping gently your face, his firm chest pressing against yours and his heart beating only for you. You felt complete, you felt whole again.  

His hands made their way to your waist pulling you even closer as your own were wrapped around his neck. He bit your lower lip asking for entrance, which you foolish granted knowing now that there was no turning back. You were about to be his for one more time. You were about to submit to him again and become one with him. 

In matter of seconds both your clothes were thrown to the floor and Lewis’ lips were attached to your swollen nipple, thing which made your eyes roll in the back of your head as you were far too sensitive. 

“Please Lewis...” you moaned. 

“What do you want baby? Tell me.” he asked as he started kissing up your chest to your neck. 

“I want you...” you cried out. 

“You can do better than that.” he said as he continued on sucking on your sweet spot. 

“Fuck... please Lewis, I want your cock inside of me, I want to remember what it felt like. I've missed you...” 

“you’ve missed me?” he suddenly lifted his head from your neck and looked you in the eye. 

“Yes, I did.” you whispered and he kissed you once again, before placing his hands firmly on your ass cheeks making you jump and wrap your legs around him middle as he made his way towards the bedroom he was staying at. 

Once you reached your destination, he placed you on the bed and got on top of you. He supported himself on his left hand as his right one made its way towards your sex and started circling your clit with his fingers. 

“Fuck Lewis...” you arched your back as he placed for one more time his lips on yours. 

You squirmed under him, resulting in him entering two fingers inside of you making you gasp. 

“Go easy, I'm still sore...” you interrupted him. 

“Okay baby, I got you, don’t worry” he reassured you and pecked your lips as he started moving his fingers in and out of you. 

After a little while, he had found a steady but fast pace and without hurting you, he was making you see stars as he was trying himself to remember what your tight walls were feeling like. 

“Come on y/n, cum for me... I need to be inside of you.” he cried out and you felt the tip of his fingers hitting against that sweet spot inside of you which made you grab on the sheets even tighter as you finally came on his fingers. 

He kept on pumping his fingers inside of you as you were riding your high, but sooner or later you felt too sensitive so you grabbed his wrist and tried to stop him. 

“I can’t...” you breathed out. 

“it’s okay baby, it’s okay.” he kissed your cheek softly as he pulled his hand out of you and proceeded to lick his fingers. 

“Fuck...” he moaned “you still taste as good as before” he said as he buried his head against your neck. 

“Please Lewis... I need you” you cried out as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders. 

“Do you have a condom?” he asked. 

“fuck” you threw your head back in frustration “you can pull out” you suggested in despair. 

“Are you sure about this? I mean we all know that the pull-out game doesn’t always work and you just gave birth” he said. 

“Lewis I don’t fucking care just put your fucking cock inside of me and shut the fuck up” you looked at him with anger as you really wanted to feel him once again. 

“Okay...okay” he nodded and grabbed his dick in his hand making you arch your back as he run his tip over your lips teasing you, before finally pushing inside of you slowly. 

“fuck” you chocked in a moan as you felt him entering you. 

“Shit y/n” his mouth opened wide as he pushed even more inside you and when he bottomed out, he let out a loud moan as he started nibbling at your neck waiting for you to adjust. 

“Please Lew, move” his heart was about to burst from happiness as he heard you calling him by his nickname. 

However, as much as he wanted to tease you more, he knew better than to push your limits, so he started moving slowly in you. 

“Shit y/n, how the fuck are still so tight?” he moaned. 

“Fuck Lew... faster” he didn’t need to hear anything else as he picked up his pace. 

He placed one of his hands on your hip for leverage as he pumped himself in and out of you even harder.  

“I can’t believe how tight you are baby... fuck you’ll be the death of me”  

“mhhmm fuck yess” you yelled out loud as you felt his tip against your g spot. 

You were sure that your screams could be heard from outside as Lewis kept on assaulting that special spot inside you, before placing his thump on your clit and starting drawing figure eights against you. 

“Oh shit... fuck Lew... you feel so fucking good” you said as you buried your nails deep into his back dragging them downwards. 

“Shit baby” he gasped as you clenched around him “I'm not gonna last” he mumbled in your ear. 

“Fuck, me too... I'm cumming” you placed on of your hands on his ass pushing him down on you as you felt a knot forming in your lower stomach. 

“Cum for me y/n... cum for me baby, milk my fucking cock” he instructed. 

“Fuck daddyy I'm coming...” you screamed and came as you made him lost it too and quickly pulled out of you spilling his seed on your stomach. 

“Fuck y/n...” he tried to catch his breath “did you really have to say the last part?” he said and you giggled. 

Lewis couldn’t feel happier. He had actually heard you giggling and not only that, but he was also the reason for your happiness.

"are you okay?" he asked after a while. 

“mhhm... probably won’t be able to get up from bed tomorrow, but yes, I'm fine” you smiled at him. 

“Then I did my job right” he smirked and pecked your lips. 

“Are you forgetting that we have a baby now?” you hit his shoulder playfully. 

“Nope, but that’s why I'm here for. I'll take care of both of you.” he smiled sweetly at you and finally got up, making his way to the bathroom to clean himself up, leaving you alone surrounded by many thoughts. 

You had no idea what to do now. You had just had sex with him, breaking the only thing that you promised yourself never to do, not even that long after you saw him again. What did that mean for your relationship now? You really wanted him back, but you also couldn’t forget that easily what he had done to you. However, you had said that you were willing to do so for your daughter. 

Was the connection you had with Lewis that strong, so not even a day after you reconnected with him, you were willing to take him back with open arms? Well, you had already opened your legs for him... 

Maybe. You really loved him still and you knew that back then he was really stressed, your relationship was very complicated and you knew that you wouldn’t last. Probably this was what you needed, a little time away from each other for your relationship to be as strong as it was before everything went downhill. 

“What are you thinking about?” you heard him asking as he was cleaning you up, without you even noticing. 

“Nothing serious. Can you please grab our clothes from downstairs?” you asked him. 

“of course” he replied and after he pecked your lips he went to do so. 

A few moments later he came back and gave you your clothes. You watched him as he started getting dressed. 

“Lew...” you said when he had only put on his boxers and his head snapped towards your direction, not expecting you to call like that again. 

“yes” he replied, but you didn’t say anything. 

You only lifted your head singling for him to pick you up. Confused he did so and you placed you head in his neck. 

“Take me to the bedroom.” you said “and take your shirt with you too.”  

“Okay...” he answered still in confusion. 

Once you reached your bedroom, he placed you on the bed and you rolled on your side to grab a new pair of panties from the bed side drawer before putting them on. 

“Gimme your shirt” you told him and he did so. 

As you were putting his shirt on, he couldn’t help but look over to the crib on the other side of the room. 

“don’t wake her up, please. It will be a hell to make her go back to sleep again.” you whispered. 

“I won’t don’t worry.” he reassured you and you smiled as you patted the space besides you. 

When he laid there, you cuddled up against him as you both wrapped your arms around each other. 

“I promise you can officially meet her tomorrow.” you kissed his shoulder. 

“mmh... good night y/n” he pecked your forehead. 

“Goodnight lew”  

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula one x reader #formula one x you #lewis hamilton x you #driver x reader #lewis hamilton one shot

[kpop---scenarios]

Hidden Lies (1)

Pairing: Unknown x Reader

Warning: Violence, Crime, Almost Assault

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: This is a remake of Poisonous Lies. Some parts may be familiar, and that would be why. I hope you enjoy!! Let me know who you think she'll connect more with!

This morning you woke up, listening to the sounds of birds chirping, the sun shining through your window, and feeling like it was going to be a great day. 

“YN.” Your mom yells. It was too early and you were trying to wake up peacefully. “Y/N!” She calls out again, but this time it's more of a screech. 

You groan loudly, folding your pillow over your ears, wanting to enjoy a little bit of time without her yelling at you. The sound of her shrieking voice was coming closer every second, until it was practically right in your ear. 

Your eyes are still closed as you feel your blanket being ripped off your body, your mom cursing at you. 

“Wake the fuck up!” She yells. “Don't you hear me yelling for you? I have shit to do, I cannot keep waking you up in the mornings! damn, you're going to make us both late” 

You were 22 years old and you still live with your mother. This life you had was sad, although it was your fault. This technically was your choice. You had decided to drop out of school and go home to help your mom out after your dad was sentenced to 10 years in prison for a lengthy list of crimes, although well it wasn't his fault, it also was at the same time. 

Your father had lost his job, and instead of telling your mother and them trying to figure it out, he went and got a loan from some people involved in crime that he most definitely should have not gone to. He didn't think about the fact that he would have had to pay that money back, plus interest. And when the time came for them to collect he didn't have it. So he was recruited for odd jobs until he had paid everything back, he didn't get very far though. His last job ended up being a sting operation and he was charged with trafficking drugs, intent to sell, attempted kidnapping, attempted human trafficking and a few other things. He wouldn't tell them why he did it, he didn't want things to get any worse, even though you weren't sure if they could or not. It wasn't his finest moment, he was trying to help his family even if it was the worst way possible. He was a good man and a good dad. Your father was a man who would do anything for his family, especially to protect them, and that’s exactly why he did what he did and now he was suffering the consequences of his own actions. 

“I swear to god, YN.” Your mom yells as she grabs your arm, trying to pull you out of bed. “If you don't get your ass up in the next 30 seconds, I'm going to lose my mind! Your train leaves in 45 minutes and if you dont get ready and leave in 10 minutes then you're not going to be able to see your dad.” She sighs. “It’s his birthday, remember.”

Shit. You quickly bolt up in bed, scrambling to get out of your bed. You were rushing around your room grabbing whatever looked the cleanest on your floor before heading to your bathroom, slamming the door in the process. 

Your mom sighs loudly before she leaves your room so you can rush around and get ready. You knew it was hard for her, not having your dad around, and you were sometimes difficult but you were trying. You felt guilty, especially since she wasn't able to go on the visit today, her shitty boss wouldn't let her have the time off. It had only been a year since he’d been locked up and you, mom and your brother had faced some very hard times. The three of you have been barely surviving paying the bills, mortgage, car, gas, groceries as well as trying to pay back your dad's loan in cash, rather than jobs similar to what your dad did.

Your mom was working 2 jobs, you and your brother both working full time, and all your money went towards everything needing to be paid, rarely leaving you much of anything left over but the three of you made it work, you always figured it out. You would do whatever you needed to do. 

You're running down the stairs, trying to put your hair into a semi decent bun and forfeiting any makeup. 

“You ready?” Your mom asks, car keys in her hand. 

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag.” you breathe. You run into the kitchen, snatching your purse from the counter before you head back to the front door that's left wide open. You roll your eyes heading out the door, closing it behind you before sliding into the passenger seat of the car the three of you shared. 

Your mom doesn't say a word to you on the ride to the train station. You hold your train ticket in your hand as she pulls in front of the station. “Please tell him happy birthday from me and that I love him.” she whispers as you're getting out of the car. 

You give her a half smile. “I will mom.” You say, getting out of the car and closing the door. It doesn't take you long to navigate your way through the station, you’ve been making this trip a few times a month. You tried to see him as much as you could but between work, work and work, you never had a ton of time. You picked a seat on the train, setting your bag down in the seat beside you. You just made it on time, seconds later you were on your way and you couldn't wait to see your dad. 

You stood in line, waiting to have your bag checked and to go through the x-ray machine. When that was all clear you headed to the front desk, showing your ID and filling out paperwork before you could even go into the room and wait for him. You sit down, your stomach is twisting with nerves. You weren't sure why, this was like any other visit you had been on. 

“LN, YN.” You hear. “You can head in now.” the guard finishes, pointing towards a visitation room. The door buzzes open and you see your dad immediately, sitting in the back, in the middle of the room. His fingers were locked together with his head down. It felt like it had been forever since you had last seen him. “Dad.” you sniffle and his head shoots up, a smile spreads across his face so quickly as he stands up from his chair. You walk towards him, his arms are wide open, waiting to embrace you. You crash into his chest, wrapping your arms around him as he does you, holding you tightly. You missed his hugs, and the safeness you felt from him. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt safe.

You both let go, tears brimming in your eyes as you both sit down across from each other. 

“Happy birthday dad.” you smile. He reaches out to grab your hand, whispering a small thank you while his head hangs low. “Mom also wishes you a happy birthday, and she says that she loves you.” You tell him, but you knew he already knew that. 

“I know,” he smiles. “I'm assuming that she had to work today?” he asks. 

You nod your head. 

“She tried to get the time off but you know Dave, he’s a dick and wouldn't even let her have the morning off.” you tell him.

But again, you knew he already knew that. Dave and your dad had been friends for years, but after your dad was sentenced the man acted as if he never knew him and was never friends with him. Your eyes wander around the room, as if anything would be different since the last time you were here. Your dad begins telling you a story, something funny that had happened the other day. You were listening, but you couldn't help but let your eyes wander.

You looked out into the common room, as you were scanning the room, your eyes landed on someone. A man, a very handsome dark haired, angry looking man staring directly at you. You tried to look away from him, but it's like you were locked in with him. He was so captivating you honestly didn't even want to look away, but you do, not before he smiles at you slightly, giving you a small wink. 

You’re brought out of your trance by your dad clearing his throat before continuing on with his story. You catch the end of it, laughing along with him even though you didn't really hear the rest of it. “Tell me about everything. What’s going on with you? How is your brother?” he asks. Before you can answer the lights of the prison flicker, the alarm blares as the red siren lights up the room on beat with the alarms. 

“What’s happening?” you yell over the loud sounds. You were feeling a little panicked but before your dad could say anything you both hear yelling. You looked at the commotion in the common room, which was only separated from the visiting room by one large metal door. You glanced around, seeing the other visitors watching what was happening but no one was reacting to anything. 

“I'm sure the guards will get it sorted, fights break out all the time. No need to worry.” Your dad tells you, trying to reassure you. 

You couldn't help but worry. You watched as more and more fights were beginning to break out between prisoners, prisoners and guards. You watched in horror, as the prisoners seemingly took the guards down more easily then they should have been able too. Your eyes were darting to every window that you could see and watched guard after guard collapse, inmates grabbing the guns or batons, a cluster of inmates slamming guards into the windows, shaking what is supposed to be bullet proof glass. 

Seconds later a fight in the visiting room breaks out after an inmate bashes a guard's head against the table. You're panicking now, other visitors are screaming, leaving their tables trying to escape, some pounding on the door, begging the guards to let them out.

The inmates from the common room begin trying to shoot the windows, or trying to pry open the doors into the visiting room. 

The doors were buzzed open letting the guards from the front now rush in from one side to try and calm the situation but instead they let the inmates rush through the other doors into the room where you and your dad were. He had taken you to the corner of the room, standing in front of you to protect you. You peek out from behind him, the two of you watching in horror as blood and tears are spilled, the cries and pleas from visitors are yelled out as the inmates attack anyone in their way, including those who were just trying to visit their loved ones. 

Your heart is pounding so loud, you can hear it in your ears. You feel weak, light headed. Your adrenaline hasn't kicked in yet. Your stomach is churning at all of the blood. Your father grabs your hand pulling you with him through another open door, and hopefully to safety. As soon as the two of you make it into another room, you're confronted by three large men. 

“Look.” Your dad begins. “We don't want any trouble. I'm just trying to keep my daughter safe.”

The man in front smiles, but even his smile is terrifying. 

“What a good dad you are. But don't worry.” He says. “We'll take her from here. I'll personally keep her safe.” He finishes, licking his lips. 

“No thank you.” your dad says. “We're just going to go.” You grip onto your dads orange jumpsuit. 

“Dad.” You whisper. He can hear the fear in your voice. 

He runs forward, punching the man, pushing him into the two men behind him. “Run YN! Run!” He screams as the men grab him, taking him elsewhere. You try to run for the door but you're grabbed, pulled back and pushed against the wall. The man who had been talking to your father stood inches from your face. You could see the evil in his eyes as he eyed you up. You can feel his breath on your neck as he moves closer towards you.

You look both ways, trying to find your way to escape. There's only one other door besides the one you came through and you're pretty sure it's locked. Fear jolts through your body as you try and think of anything you could possibly say or do to get yourself out of this situation but you know that there is nothing you can do, except try and fight. 

“Get away from me!” you yell, putting your hands on his chest and pushing as hard as you can. 

"Don't fucking do that.” He snaps, shoving you against the wall. He raises his hand as he gets closer to you, his finger tracing your face. You squeeze your eyes shut, tears rolling down your cheeks and you let out a scream, as loud as you could. You switched between yelling "help me." And screaming, hoping someone would come for you. 

The man slaps his hand over your mouth, angrily. "Why would you do that, don't you like me?" He asks. "It's been a long fucking time since we've been this close to a woman." He chuckles. You can feel his body pressing against you. You try to focus on anything else, but all you can hear is the sound of him breathing and the screams and cries of the ones caught in the riot. 

Just as you were about to give up, you feel a release. You can no longer feel his body pressing against you, you can hear yelling much closer. You open your eyes and see a dark haired man, and a familiar other dark haired man pulling the men away from you. Within seconds the man who wanted to attack you was down on the floor, and the two men who saved you grabbed your hands, pulling you out of the room and away from the chaos. 

Where was your dad? Was he okay? 

The three of you ran down a hallway, the alarms are still blaring, you can just barely hear police sirens from outside. 

The two men had no idea where to go, everywhere you looked there was violence, inmates with weapons and minimal guards that were alive. 

"Hey!" You hear from down the hall. You all turn around and see the man that had you pinned against the wall. Anger suddenly fuels you, wondering where your dad was. 

“What did you do to my dad!?” You scream. The man stops walking, a grin spreads across his face. “Don't worry, he's just fine. Now you two.” He says, pointing to the two men who were still holding onto you. “You don't get to take what's not yours.” He frowns. “I want her back.” He yells down the hall. The two men who had taken your father appear behind him. 

“Fuck.” One says. they turn around, pulling you in a different direction. You were turning corner after corner until one of them found an unlocked door. He opens it, quickly pulling you inside before slamming it shut. Your body is shaking, you can't help but sob. You never in a million years expected today to turn out how it has. 

Both the men quickly jump into action, grabbing whatever heavy pieces of furniture they can find to shove against the door. You watch them, still feeling just pure shock. 

"I'm sorry." You whisper. You weren't even entirely sure what you were sorry about but it felt appropriate in the moment. 

They both stop covering the door, staring at you. “Sorry for what?” One asks. 

“I.. I'm not sure. But you're in this mess now because of me.” You sigh. 

“We're in this because we didn't want to see an innocent woman get taken advantage of by some fucked up men. You didn't start it.” He says. 

“What's your name?” The other asks. 

"Y/N." You sniffle. 

“I’m Wooyoung, and this is San.” 

“Nice to meet you both. And thank you. I truly don't know what would have happened if you guys didn't save me.” 

“It's nothing.” San says, giving you a half smile. He could not stop staring at you, just like when you were in the visiting room with your dad and he had caught your eye. 

Before you could say anything back, the knob to the door started to shake. There's pounding at the door, and that's when you hear it. 

“Y/N.” your dad calls. “Y/N please let me in. They're coming.” He cries. “Please.” 

You run to the door, trying your best to move everything they had put against the door. 

“Y/N stop.” Wooyoung yells, trying to pull you away. 

“Please!” You cry. “Please help me. That's my dad, we need to let him in.” 

San and Wooyoung loom at each other. They both know this is a bad idea but knew that there would be no chance of you letting up. 

“Whatever happens?” San says. Wooyoung nods his head. 

“Whatever happens.” 

The two men help you pull the large filing cabinet, desk and other heavy things away from the door. You unlock the deadbolt, ripping the door open, the smile on your face falling immediately. 

“I'm sorry Y/N. I'm so sorry.” He cries. He's pushed inside the room by the three men from before. He trips, falling to the floor with a thud. You wanted to go to him but the man has a gun now and it's pointed directly at you. 

“You two aren't very good at hiding.” He chuckles. 

“Eric, you don't have to do this.” Wooyoung says, his hands up as he inches towards you. 

“Fuck you, Woo. You'd be the fucking same if you were locked in the hole for months at a time.” Eric snaps. “And now I have a chance for something real and you two are trying to ruin it for me.” 

“I'm telling you not to fucking do this.” San snaps. He can see Eric eyeing you up, your dad laying on the floor, one of Eric's men's feet pinning him down. 

“You think I'm gonna listen to you?” Eric laughs. “Just enjoy the show.” He says, grabbing onto Your wrists. Wooyoung and San try to lurch forward but they're stopped by the other two, flashing their knives. Eric pushes you against the wall, pulling you back towards him. He pulls you to the ground, climbing on top of you, straddling you. The gun is still shoved in your face. You say nothing, tears just stream down your face. Your eyes dart in-between San and Wooyoung as you silently plead for one of them to do something. To help you. 

Eric rips open your shirt, exposing your bra. You look away, seeing Wooyoung and San nod towards each other. They both lunge for the men, knocking them down. Your dad scrambles to his feet taking over for San, as he runs for Eric, who was too in his own world with you to hear anything else. San tackles him, causing Eric to let go of the gun, it slides across the floor. Eric scrambles beneath San as he delivers hit after hit. 

“Everybody get on the fucking ground.” You hear. Smoke bombs thrown into the room. Guards in full tactical gear flood inside, guns at the ready. San gets off of Eric, all of them men laying on the floor. “Hands on your head.” They yell. 

You do as you're told. “We have a hostage located.” They go to you first, helping you up. You're coughing loudly as they guide you out of the room, into another one to be treated. They'd finally gotten everything settled down and started getting inmates back into their cells, or medical treatment. 

“You took a fucking hostage, the warden is deciding your punishment.” A guard snaps at Wooyoung and San as they escort them past the room you're in. You push the nurse away, running out of the room. 

“Wait!” You yell. “They didn't take me hostage. They saved me from him.” You say, pointing to Eric. “He tried to.. he tried to...” You cry. “They protected me from him and I'll forever be grateful.” you finish. You walk over to the two handcuffed men, wrapping your arms around both of them, until they're both escorted off. Both of them looking over their shoulders, giving you a smile and a wink. 

Once you were checked out by the nurse and cleared to go, you were led out to the front where your mom was waiting for you. You sobbed into her shoulder as she hugged you tightly, apologizing to you profusely. She grabbed your hand, pulling you out to the car. you look back at the prison as she drives away, silently thanking Wooyoung and San for saving you. You'd have to find some way to properly thank them sometime. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Your mom asks. 

“Dad and I were talking when fights broke out. Inmates were attacking guards and other inmates.” You sigh. “They opened the doors to the visitation room to let guards in but inmates rushed in.. one gut I guess had his sights set on me.” 

“Dad protected you right?” Your mom asks. 

“He tried. But there were 3 of them and one of him.. they took him away. And I was alone.” You look over at your mom, she has tears in her eyes as she listens to you. “But then two men rushed in and grabbed me, helped me escape. Took me to a room and barricaded the door.” 

“They didn't hurt you did they?” She whispers. 

“No mom, they didn't. Dad started banging on the door.. they helped me move everything and open the door but the bad guy was there with him, they pushed him in.. the guy tried to.. r..” you pause. Your mom looks horrified. “He didn't. Wooyoung and San tackled him and then the guards came in.” 

“That was extremely lucky that they were there for you.” She sighs. “I'm so sorry baby.” 

“It's not your fault mom. You didn't know that was going to happen.” You say. “No one could have predicted that would happen.” 

The rest of the way you drive home in silence. You really want to just go to bed. Luckily you didn't have to work today so you could do just that. As you walked in the house, your brother Jaehyun rushed to you, hugging you tightly. “I'm so glad you're okay.” He says, squeezes you even harder. 

“I won't be if you squeeze me anymore, you're gonna suffocate me.” You half chuckle, half panic. He lets you go, patting your back before heading back to the living room. 

“Do you want some lunch?” Your mom asks. You raise an eyebrow. You had assumed she would have had to go back to work. 

“Don't you have to go back to work?” You ask. She looks at the ground. 

“Uh, well.. Dave said if I left to go to you, I wouldn't have a job. It's not worth it if he won't let me go to my child who was in the middle of a prison riot. Don't worry, I'll find something else.” She smiles. 

Fuck Dave. You went up to your room, crawled in your bed and quickly fell asleep. The day was exhausting and you were still shook a week later. It was the week after the riot, and you had been answering everyone's questions about what happened, what it was like the guys who saved you. It was the talk of the town still but you were tired of talking about it. You were ready to forget about it now, which is why you agreed so fast when your friend Hwasa asked you to go out that night. There was a newish club that was apparently very exclusive and the two of you wanted in. You got ready in a hurry, doing your makeup and your hair the best you could. You slipped on your favorite club dress as well as shoes and headed for the front door. 

“I'm going out, bye!” You yell, slamming the door behind you. You run down the driveway heading to Hwasa's car. 

The drive to the club is long. When you finally see it, you're mesmerized. It's bigger than you imagined, the bright sign outside reads Ateez. You were so excited. The line was extremely long, and as you walked up to the bouncer he shooed you to the back of the line. It seemed like you were never going to get in. 

After about twenty minutes, you noticed a man staring at you that was walking the line, he walked past you, before backing up to look at you again. 

“L/N Y/N?” He asks, eyeing you up and down. 

“Yes?” You respond, staring at the handsome man. 

“Come with me.” He says, motioning for you and Hwasa to follow him. You and Hwasa look at each other, she shrugs her shoulders, following the man and dragging you along behind. He stops at the bouncer, pointing to you. “L/N Y/N. Add her to the list. VIP.” He finishes, bringing you both inside. What the hell did you do to get this sort of treatment? 

The two of you walk behind the man, following him really without any questions. You pass what looks like the main bar, the dance floor and head up some stairs. The rope is removed from the hook, letting the three of you into the VIP area. 

“You can stay here if you'd like. Your drinks are all on the house, whatever you'd like. If you need anything, my name is Mingi, don't hesitate to ask.” He says. 

“Um, I do have a question.” You say, slightly raising your hand. “How? Um, why? And um what?” You say. 

Mingi chuckles. “You helped my brothers out, by not adding time to their sentences. They both could have gotten a lot more time after that riot. But they didn't, because of you. So from now on, if you are in trouble or need anything, you have 8 men who will happily help you out.” He says. “Well 6 for now, until San and Woo get out.” 

“All I did was tell the truth.” You say.

“There's a lot of women out there who would have lied, knowing who those two are.” He says. 

 “Also, You're related to them?” You ask, ignoring what he said before. You were too busy trying to stop your mouth from hanging down. 

“Well.. in a sense.” He laughs. “Enjoy your night.” He finishes before leaving the room. 

“What the hell!” Hwasa shouts, heading over to your private bar. She orders multiple drinks and shots for each of you to be brought to your table. As you two sit there, listening to the music the DJ is playing, drinking and just having a good time you see five men walk into the room. They stop, staring at you. As they walk over they introduce themselves. 

“Y/N.” One smiles. “I'm Seonghwa, this is Yeosang, Yunho, Jongho and Hongjoong.” He says pointing to each extremely handsome man. 

“Nice to meet you.” You smile back, waving at them all while hiccuping in the process. 

“Thank you for what you did for Woo and San.” Seonghwa says. 

“Like I said to Mingi, I was just telling the truth. I didn't want them to get into trouble for saving me.” You explain. 

“If you need anything, and I mean anything, don't hesitate to call.” He says, sliding you a piece of paper. Written down are 8 phone numbers for you. This was honestly fucking surreal. Who knew this could happen for simply telling the truth? 

The men walk away and Hwasa stares at you in disbelief. “I almost wish it was me that day.” She laughs. “Let's go dance!” She says, trying to pull you up. 

“Let me just tidy these glasses.” You slur, stacking all the cups and shot glasses to bring back to the bartender. He laughs as you place them on the bar, and thanks you through his chuckles. 

You let Hwasa drag you down the stairs to the dance floor, immediately sliding her hands all over your body as you dance closely. The two of you always preferred to dance together, but sometimes if you were into it you'd dance with men.  This time you were too into dancing with Hwasa, you didn't want any men to disturb you. You turned around, grinding your ass into her as you looked around the club. You glanced up at the balcony and saw six men leaning on the railing, all their eyes staring directly at you. Why did you feel like your life was going to get a lot more interesting? 

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #hongjoong #san #wooyoung #yeosang #seonghwa #mingi #yunho #jongho #kpop fanfic #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Tea - a Magnus Archives one-shot

"You must be Martin. Jon used to go on about you a lot."

In MAG 149, season 4, Georgie recognized Martin the moment she saw him just from Jon's descriptions, but we didn't get to hear that.

Have a glimpse into my mind-palace of how it could have happened.

Notes: none. This is just fluff. Spoilers thrugh season 4.

AO3

------

“And then Martin—would you believe this—let a dog into the Archives! A dog! ”

“A whole-ass dog, eh?” said Georgie, sipping her tea, trying not to sound dubious.

“It took him all day to get that thing back out of my Archives. Ridiculous.”

“So… you didn’t fire him?”

“No, I didn’t fire him! Elias put him there for some reason, and I… well, I thought it might be more suspicious if I got him out of the way. The next spy could be worse.”

Spies. Dogs. Evil bosses. “Are you still not going to tell me whatever happened at your weird cult workplace?” she said.

He glared over his coffee. “No, I am not going to tell you what happened at my weird cult workplace. Just. He also makes good tea. That’s all.”

“Bully for him.” She left to go to work.

#

“And then you wouldn’t believe… Martin insisted on ice cream for his birthday. Like we were all children!”

“Oh, no,” Georgie said, pencil posed over her crossword puzzle. “Whatever did you do?”

“Well, I ordered ice cream, of course. No need to rock the boat,” Jon said, leaning on his Oxford English drawl. 

“No, no need to do that,” said Georgie. “What kind?”

He huffed. “Rum and raisin. It was serviceable.”

She knew him too well. “You talked about emulsions again, didn’t you?”

If Jon had feathers, they would have ruffled. “Yes, I talked about emulsions! They’re an important part of modern food theory!”

Georgie laughed, filled out wiseguy for a seven-letter know-it-all prompt, and called it a day.

#

“Martin insists on tea. Insists on it. If I don’t have a hot cuppa, he just… he…” Jon gestures.

“He what?” said Georgie, who really wasn’t sure where he was going with this.

“Well, he gets all… big-eyed, and sad, as if I somehow did it at him,” Jon mumbled, looking down. “I have drunk more tea in the last two years than in my entire life.”

“With your grandmother? I doubt that,” said Georgie, who had come into the picture early enough to meet her before she passed.

“No, she insisted I make tea. She never truly cared if I drank it,” Jon mumbled into his empty cup. “Martin cared.” And then he stared at the leaves at the bottom as though offended they were all that remained.

“Well, I’m sure my tea-making skills hardly compare,” said Georgie.

“They don’t,” said Jon, who did not mean cruelty by it.

Georgie spoke fluent Jon. She understood he wasn’t saying, You suck. He was saying, I miss Martin’s tea. “Are you sure you can’t reach out to him? Maybe outside of work?”

Jon went deep red. “I can’t do that.”

“You sure? I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.”

“No,” Jon said softly, looking now at the floor. “I can’t talk to anybody. It isn’t safe.”

“Safe?” she said.

He seemed to realize he’d said too much. “I… excuse me.” And he closed himself in the guest bedroom to make another of his weird tape recordings.

#

“I’m telling you, Martin might be sending them!” he said, holding up another batch of suspicious documents.

Georgie was fuming. “How could he be? Did you tell Martin where I live?”

“I… no, I didn’t.”

“Then I doubt he’s sending them.”

“I just thought… no, you’re right. I doubt he misses me at all,” said Jon, hangdog supreme.

Georgie threw her hands in the air. As Jon’s ex, she didn’t really think she had the right to push it further.

#

“Martin made me take his jumper home, and it… well, I never returned it. It’s so very comfortable! I feel oddly safe in it. Isn’t that odd?” A confession, wide-eyed, over breakfast. 

“Martin hates oolong,” said Jon over lunch and oolong. “I’m not sure why. Something to do with his mother, I think.”

“Martin always smiles. It’s suspicious,” Jon declared over dinner.

Georgie began to tune it out.

#

“He was terrible at research,” Jon mumbled late as they both sipped some brandy. “But he always tried so hard. He brought in a jar of worms once, did I tell you that?”

“Uh, no?” said Georgie. “Why would he bring in a jar of worms?”

Jon waved his shot glass. “Reasons,” he said like the grim reaper.

Georgie shook her head and threw back the last of her shot before going to bed.

#

Later, much later, Georgie went to the Magnus Institute, trying to find Melanie. She hated the place; it gave her the creeps, and not only because of what she now knew about Jon. It wasn’t even proper fear. It was just yucky, like something slimy between her toes.

Finding no one, she wandered downstairs, into the Archives, and spotted a man at a desk. He was tall, kind of cuddly-wide; his hair was curly and red, and his freckles were bright. His eyes were, intriguingly, the same color Jon had wistfully described as spring green one very late night.

Like Jon, he had a tape recorder going. She was really beginning to hate those things.

He did a double-take. “Oh, you can’t be here. It’s not allowed.”

“Sorry, Melanie told me to wait for her here,” Georgie said.

“You’re here for Melanie?” the man clarified, standing (good lord, he was tall).

“Yeah. I’m Georgie.”

And out came the smile (which Jon had described) and the awkward aw-shucks body language with one hand behind his head (which Jon had also described). “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t realize! I’m sure she’s around here somewhere.”

She knew. He could’ve been conjured from Jon’s imagination for how perfect he was for that man. “You must be Martin.”

He blinked. “Has Melanie been talking about me?”

“No, um. Jon used to go on about you a lot.”

Martin brightened like the sun shining, and then Georgie had to go on for minutes about why she wouldn’t help Jon anymore.

Which Martin insisted she should.

Hell. Jon had no chance. They both had it so bad.

She still didn’t like this place. She still had issues with Jon and everything Jon was doing; but this… she could see this.

Martin and Jon, Jon and Martin. It worked in her head. They fit. 

She hoped it worked out. 

She hoped Jon didn’t drag Martin with him to the grave.

#tma #tma fic #one-shot #jmart #jonmartin #teaholding #georgie barker #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tma spoilers

[theworldoffostering]

So much snow. And cold. And sadness.

It’s NB’s birthday this week. He will be FIVE! Can we please take a moment to reflect on his birth? His mom called me at 5am and told me she was in the ER at a hospital nearly an hour away from me, asking me to come meet her. I did. Upon arrival, the OBGYN came into the room and said she was going to have the baby now and gave me a gown so I could head back into the OR and watch the c-section. Never in my life did I imagine that would be how I was spending my morning/day. NB was born and I sat with him until the ambulance came to transfer him to a larger hospital with a NICU. NB was about six weeks early, and born addicted, but was mostly a feeder and grower. His NICU experience was fairly bland except it happened 71 miles away from us during the polar vortex. We commuted daily and spent many nights there despite DH and I both working full-time.

NB was born the day before Ms. 6’s adoption. I sent her an email today asking if she was ready to talk. I don’t think she is, but wanted to put the ball into her court and let her know that we were. She’s requesting contact with NB, but no one else, and we have refused. It’s so weird to me. In her biological home, Ms. 6 was very much the favorite, and Ms. 6 now has made NB her favorite, and frankly that is a major benefit of her no longer being here—we no longer have to choose to manage that dynamic. But I’m also still sad over all of the loss. (For sure I am also relieved.) It’s confusing and complicated.

DH’s family situation continues to be challenging. His sister’s situation is worse than we had initially known, and his mom’s cancer is potentially back. She’ll find out for sure this week. How do you handle death of a parent when the parent hates you and is actively trying to destroy your marriage? I feel bad for DH, and also clueless as to how to make anything easier/better in this situation.

I also saw DD last week. She came over to pick up some Christmas gifts that my mom had sent for her. About 90% of what she said during her visit were straight up lies. I’m sad, frustrated, disappointed. Is this part of the disease, or is this just who she is?

I don’t know you guys, I am sort of just asking myself, “What is the point?” Like what was the point of doing all of the work to get Ms. 6? We are completely isolated in our own community due to it, and she has rained down so much pain and trauma on our family/other kids. What was the point? She got out of a residential setting, was safe here, experienced life, went on vacations, and acquired the skills to graduate high school (she’s done—she just finished in December). Was that the point? Is that enough to justify all of the harm done to the people left standing?

DD left an orphanage in Eastern Europe, and I think it probably (not trying to be dramatic) saved her life. As a person with cerebral palsy, I’m not sure how many years she would have made it in the orphanage, and aging out would probably mean being on the streets. It was such a miracle that she got out of Eastern Europe when she did (truly), that I always felt like she was destined for great things. And by great, I mean typical adulting like having a job, being in a stable relationship, etc. That’s not what’s happening, and I’m crushed by the loss of that dream, and feeling like I am losing hope for her future to be more than what it currently is. It could probably be worse, but not having an authentic relationship with her is particularly painful to me as she’s my first child and for many years, it was just she and I. We were a family and I felt so connected to her. Having the relationship we have now feels to me like an accute loss. So again, what’s the point is the question that keeps rearing up for me.

It’s weird to be a foster parent for so long, be entirely dedicated to it with your whole self, and then be left wondering, “Does it even matter?”

#deep thoughts #parenting is hard #this is foster care #foster care

[russellrustles]

Birthday Blues - g. russell

a/n: this is purely a self-indulgent fic for my own birthday

warnings: none really, kind of a tiny bit sad at the start but there’s a happy ending

word count: 1.4k

summary: even though you know that your assumption is unrealistic, you can’t help but wonder if George has forgotten about your birthday. Yet, unbeknownst to you, he always has a plan up his sleeve.

masterlist

--------------------

A plain, white ceiling is not the most interesting thing to stare at. 

A plain, white ceiling is in fact a rather mundane thing in itself, but its prosaic simplicity allows you to focus on what you’re thinking rather than what you’re seeing. 

Another year gone by, another 365 days worth of memories, ranging from exhilarating to romantic to, on the worse days, disheartening. Yet, a singular constant throughout all the days - good or bad, joyful or tearful - has always been George.

You smile slightly to yourself as you hear his soft snores filling the room and turn onto your side to see him sleeping oh so peacefully, obviously comfortable and cosy after having hogged the entire duvet in his sleep. Seeing him all wrapped up and warm suddenly makes you realise that you are in fact feeling rather chilly, so you shuffle closer to him, sliding under the duvet and wrapping your arms around him.

After a slight delay, he groans quietly, slowly grabbing your arm to stop you from moving your hand up and down his bare back. “Your hands are freezing,” he complains, holding both of them in his own but still refusing to open his eyes. 

“Maybe if you hadn’t stolen the duvet then I wouldn’t be on the verge of having hypothermia right now,” you whisper, closing your own eyes and sighing contentedly as you feel heat seeping back into your limbs. Mornings like these are your favourite: languid, lazy and slow - no rushing around or frantically getting dressed in the dark in an attempt to not be late to work or some event. 

“Yeah, yeah,” George mumbles in response, pulling you closer to him in an attempt to appease your disgruntled self, “is this better?”

Replying with a happy hum, you snuggle closer to him before drifting back to your thoughts - more specifically your plans for today. Despite it being your so-called special day, you haven’t really planned anything for it. In the past few years, many of yours and George’s mutual friends have moved abroad or become overwhelmingly busy with their own jobs and projects, often to the extent at which organising a big meet-up is a harrowingly complicated experience. 

Instead, you have the intention of just making today a peaceful day. In fact, a light brunch date followed by a leisurely stroll through a park with George seems really appealing at this moment in time.

“George, darling, I was thinking that today we could-“

“Shush, go back to sleep, love. We can have a chat about it later,” he grumbles, cutting you off mid-sentence. In response to the petty huff of protest that you give out he runs his hand through your hair, playing with it and giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead.

Well that didn’t go as planned.

----------

Even after the two of you have had breakfast, no mentions of birthdays or plans have been brought up by George. You find it rather suspicious, really - throughout all the previous years that you’ve known each other, he has always been the first to send birthday wishes or organise an outing. Surely he couldn’t have just forgotten the date out of the blue, especially seeing as you find him to be the sort of guy that would write people’s birthdays down in a calendar. 

It doesn’t terribly bother you, though - or at least you don’t allow it to do so - you just wish that George would finally allow you to suggest a plan for today. He’s been quick to cut off any of your ideas, whilst not revealing any of his own.

Sitting on the sofa with your legs sprawled over his lap, you decide that it’s time for one last attempt, “Georgie, can we at least do something nice today? I’d quite like to get out of the house for my-“

“Sorry, sweetheart, I’m going out with Alex and Lando tonight,” he cuts you off once again, gently stroking your thigh as a comforting gesture.

“You’re- what? You couldn’t have told me that they’re in the area earlier? I could have organised something nice for today,” you ramble, beginning to feel the heavy weight of disappointment in your chest. Not only does he seem oblivious to the fact that it’s your birthday, but he’s also going off and spending it with seemingly everyone but you. 

“Oh, come on, you’re going with me,” he chuckles, rolling his eyes. 

His mixed signals today are even worse than when you had tried dropping subtle hints to him before you had started dating and, by God, did it take him months to figure those out. 

You spend the majority of the day after that lazing around on the sofa, only occasionally getting up to find the remote or grab a controller for the video game console. After a while though, George seems to get rather handsy, constantly grabbing at your thighs or wrapping an arm around your waist. You pass it off as him just being restless and decide to reciprocate, delicately stroking your fingers along his hands and arms whenever he has them on you. However, this only keeps him satisfied for a few minutes, until eventually he pushes you onto your back and lays down with his head on your chest. 

You play with his hair for a few minutes, before giggling, “Shouldn’t I be the one getting the princess treatment today, seeing as it’s my-“

He shuts you up by kissing you on the lips, gently cradling your cheek in his palm. “You’ll get it, don’t you worry,” he whispers, “Now come on, we’re going to be late to meet the others.”

Feeling a mixture of confusion and dejection brewing within you, you just cede and decide to go along with whatever he’s got planned. 

----------

“Are we nearly there yet?” you ask, with your head resting against the car window and your hand held tightly by George’s. 

“Nearly, nearly. Be patient, my love,” he laughs, refusing to shift his focus off the road in front of him, even when you pout petulantly. 

“I think it would be very helpful if you would tell me where we’re meeting everybody,” you say sarcastically, only to be met with another chuckle from George. 

“Look, I know that I’ve definitely been getting on your nerves today,” he admits, “but I think this will make you quite happy.”

Aha - so he hasn't actually forgotten. 

Like the gentleman he is, he opens the door for you and helps you out once he’s parked the car outside a classy-looking restaurant. With a hand on your lower back, he guides you straight towards the outdoor tables, fully confident as to where he’s heading despite your slight hesitancy and uncertainty in such an environment. Despite having been together for so long, a part of you just can’t really get used to showing up in all these high-end locations for a casual outing.

The two of you weave between tables and around restaurant staff and guests until you spot Lando and Alex at a table, and with them Lily, and some of your other friends, and your sister…

“Georgie, what’s everyone doing here? I thought you said it was just the guys?” you whisper to him as you approach the table, slightly taken aback by the unexpectedly large number of people that you’re suddenly facing. They greet you with a cheer and wide smiles, shouting out birthday wishes and greetings so loudly that a few people turn from their own tables to see what’s going on. 

“We decided to throw a little surprise dinner for you, darling,” he whispers back, “sorry for avoiding the topic so much this morning, I knew I’d just give this all away too early if I hadn’t.”

At this point, despite the utter bewilderment that he had caused you earlier today, you can’t even be mad at him. Finally seeing so many of your friends in one place fills you with such an overwhelming sense of pure joy that it almost threatens to spill out of you in the form of exuberant tears, and thinking about just how much effort this event must have taken to orchestrate makes your heart swell with love for your boyfriend. 

“Oh, this is amazing, thank you so much,” is all you can force out in your state of shock, simply too inundated by a variety of emotions to form a more profound response. 

Slowly pulling a jewellery gift box out of his pocket and tucking it into your palm, George smiles at you and replies, “Happy birthday, my love. Now how about we sit down?”

--------------------

a/n: i’ll be writing longer fics again soon! as always, thank you for reading, please do give feedback <3

TAGLIST: (read this post for more info about my taglists)

@seastarapiaries​ @idkiwantchocolatee​ @ohthemisssery​ @dumb-fawkin-bitch​

#i feel old today #george russell #gr63 #george russell fanfiction #george russell fanfic #george russell imagine #george russel x reader #george russell x y/n #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n

[joekeeryswife]

I am amazed at Infertile! It was the perfect amount of sadness and angst and I just loved it. I saw you might do a part 2 and just thought it would be interesting to see something else with Joseph's family where they find out about their predicament and how much its affecting them and why they left the dinner. And perhaps how it's affecting Joseph from his POV, like maybe he breaks down to the reader or a friend/family member about how much he wants a baby too but feels like he needs to be strong for y/n all the time and has to hide away his emotions. Just a couple ideas maybe but I loved it either way 🥰

Infertile 2 - J.Q

hello love, thank you for the lovely message! i hope you enjoy this imagine, and thank you for the ideas! also, i left it on a cliffhanger sorry queens and it’s super short, this is kinda sad so sorry about that as well. probably has a lot of mistakes and i made up joseph’s sisters name. anyways, have a lovely day <3

after the whole predicament at Joseph's mums birthday, you had been very down. it was a lot worse than you usually felt and Joseph had also been feeling down. he'd wanted nothing more than to have a baby with you and the fact that you guys had been struggling thought maybe there was something wrong with him. it had been two days since his mums birthday and he thought it would be best if he went to see her after you both had been comforting each other for the past two days. you were in bed, still sleeping when Joseph woke you up.

"sweetheart" he said, stroking your disheveled hair as he kissed your cheek. you opened your eyes, seeing Joseph smiling softly at you as his hand moved from your hair to your cheek. "Joey" you whispered, pulling him into you for a hug. "hi sweetheart, i'm gonna go to my mums, i'll see you later" he said, kissing your cheek. you nodded your head and closed your eyes again, still feeling tired.

"i'll be back later" he said, kissing you on the lips before getting up off of you. you decided to go back to sleep. Joseph drove to his mums house, hoping she wasn't to upset about you both leaving on her birthday and that she was alone. he arrived 30 minutes later, seeing no other cars in the drive way but his mums. he unlocked the door, seeing his mum in the kitchen making a tea for the two of them. "hi mum" he said, closing the door behind him before taking off his shoes at the door.

"hi Joey, how've you been" she said, bringing him in for a hug once he entered the kitchen. he hugged her back and felt a kiss on his cheek. "i'm alright. sorry about the other day" he said, watching her brush off his comment as she smiled. she passed him his tea and followed him into the living room where they sat on the sofa, the tv playing some random show which they weren't concentrating on. for the few hours he was there, Joseph had been off and his mum noticed.

"i know that y/n was feeling fine the other day, i saw her leaving from the table when no one was looking. is everything okay Joey? and you're being off here. please tell me the truth and tell me what's happened" she said, sipping her tea as she grabbed ahold of his hand. he sighed and rubbed his face. "we wanted to keep it a secret until we were sure enough but, me and y/n have been trying for a baby for a year and a half and last year she had a miscarriage. we wanted to tell you but we wanted to be quite far in before we said anything" he admitted, feeling sadness full his body.

his mum listened as her son say why you were so upset. his eyes filled filled with tears as he kept speaking to his mum. "hearing Hannah say she was pregnant just didn't help. we got another negative test that morning and y/n was just feeling really down. and i'm gonna be honest, it's really making me sad. seeing her go through that every time, maybe there's something wrong with me. i just-" he stopped, the tears falling down his face.

his mum pulled him in for a hug, sympathy filling her body as she realised why you were so upset. "it sounds silly mum but i really want a baby. like desperately. and i want to be strong for y/n but it's getting too much. we've been trying, we've done IVF and it's just-" he sniffled, before carrying on. "it's just getting too much now. we both want a baby but it's not working. maybe we aren't meant to be parents and it may effect our relationship and i hate that" he sobbed, hot tears rolling down his cheeks as he cried into his mums chest.

"oh Joe. i'm so sorry that's happened to you. i wished you would have said something. i think, personally, it will happen for you guys when you least expect it. i know having a miscarriage hurts and i hate that you two went through that alone. you guys will have that baby when you least expect it Joe. you guys should tell me if you need anything and i'll try help you. y/n is family Joey, you two shouldn't have gone through it just the two of you. i also don't want you to think that you can't cry or have emotions because you're a man because that's stupid. you shouldn't keep your emotions bottled up, y/n would want you to show your emotions" she said, rubbing his back softly as he silently sobbed.

he nodded his head, agreeing with his mums words. he's always thought, even since he was little, that she was a wise woman. she always knew what to say and when to say it. he pulled away from the hug and wiped his tears, acting like they'd never happened even after her saying he should show his emotions. "you should tell her how you're feeling Joseph. i mean it. she wouldn't want to think she's the only one who's sad" she said, giving him a reassuring smile. he sighed before nodding again, seeing the time and thinking it was best if he went home.

"i can read you like a book Joseph. go home and talk to y/n. tell her how you feel." she said, standing up to give him a hug goodbye. "i'll call you later mum. tell you how it goes" he said, seeing the small smile on her face. she nodded and pulled him in for the hug when he stood up, kissing his temple before letting go, basically shoving him out the door. he put on his shoes quickly before going out the door, waving to his mum as he started the drive home, hoping you'd be out of bed, maybe in the living room watching tv. he just wanted you to get out of there.

Joseph had many emotions running through him. he was sad that this was happening to you both. you'd both wanted to start a family and the fact nothing was working made him feel anxious and depressed and now that his mum knows, he is feeling worse about not telling you how he felt. he arrived home, letting a sigh escape him as he entered the house, hearing the tv playing the US shameless. he smiled slightly, you'd finally got out of bed. he saw you on the sofa, hair in a messy bun and you'd changed clothes. Joseph felt his bottom lip quiver. he didn't know why he was so emotional.

maybe because he'd admitted to his mum how he felt or maybe it was jealousy of his sister and brother-in-law or maybe it was the fact that you'd both suffered so much pain in the past year and a half. he walked and sat next to you, his head falling to your chest. you looked at him confused, he usually pulled you in for a hug instead of falling into you like this. you felt your top get wet and Joseph's body started to shake slightly as he sobbed for the second time that day.

you pulled him closer, hand running through his hair as you tried to comfort him. you held him as he cried, not wanting to invade to much as you kissed his forehead and spoke up. "you wanna tell me what's up love?" you said in the softest voice you could. he sat up and sighed, rubbing his eyes angrily before you you gently pulled his hand away, not wanting him to hurt himself. he stuttered slightly before getting a full sentence out. "i just- i'm just feeling really sad y/n. this whole situation with the baby and the miscarriage it's just getting to much. i hate that i can't give you a baby. seeing negative test one after the other just makes my self esteem go to the floor and i’m so sorry y/n, i am." he admitted, his head falling to look at his lap making your heart hurt as he said that.

you gave him a soft smile, feeling bad that he’d never admitted this before. you grabbed ahold of his hand and pulled his face to look at you. “Joey love, i wished you’d told me this before. i think maybe, it hurts me so much to say because i know how much we both want this, maybe we should stop trying for a while sweetheart. you’ve definitely put things into a perspective for me Joey, it’s hurting us both and you a lot more than me. maybe we should just not try for a while, give each other a break from heartbreak after heartbreak” you said, stroking his cheek softly. seeing his eyes look so drained, nothing like how they usually were, made you feel so bad. he’d had these feelings bottled up in him for a year and now he was admitting it made you feel awful. he went to protest against it before you cut him off.

“i know it’s not what you want and i don’t want it either but i think maybe we should just take a break from it love. we both want it so desperately maybe we should just wait and it’ll happen when we least expect it” you finished, making Joseph’s heart feel heavy. he knew you were right and after a few minutes of silent thoughts he nodded his head. he let his head fall back into your chest, the tears now not stopping. you lent your head against his as he cried, feeling awful for him. you knew it was the right thing to do so why did it hurt so much saying it out loud?

#fanfiction #imagines #joseph quinn character #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn blurb #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn imagines #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson imagines #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things

[bloodanddiscoballs]

Alright I said I was gonna make a sappy post for my 30th birthday so here it goes!:

I never thought I would live to see 30. I know that many people say that, and I'm sure that sentiment isn't unique on here. Here's the thing; I'm disabled. I have almost died due to my health 3 times since 2011 and indeed did once before being brought back. My immune system is nonexistent, and my chronic pain has me at currently 6 reconstructive back surgeries and round the clock pain medication.

When I was 17 years old, I became a victim of medical malpractice and had my entire life changed in an instant. Didn't get to go off to college, didn't get to work normally, didn't get to move out - didn't, didn't, didn't. For years, I was told that I would heal. That I would be fine. I was young! Young people don't get sick. I'll bounce back. Just be patient. But I didn't get better, I got worse. And every year older was another year into my 20s where I wasn't able to do "the normal stuff." I never finished college, but I did get some classes done. I would work for a few months before needing to quit. I got married and then divorced. All "failures" due to my health.

At 27, I went to see my therapist and sat down and told her that I couldn't see into my future. I remember telling her, "Every day is hell. I can't do this for another 10 years. I've barely made it through this last 10. I don't even know if I can do it for another 3." I was at the end of my rope, convinced that I wouldn't make it. My back was crumbling underneath me again, and insurance was fighting me tooth and nail to be approved for another surgery. I was bedridden. I was on the highest medication load I've taken, and it wasn't even touching my pain. I wasn't connected to anything - not my art, not friends, not the world around me. I was looking very seriously at my options of what I thought was either suffering or dying.

So, she suggested a mindfulness program. It was a 6-week course at UCSD (University of California San Diego) that taught you how to. essentially, live in the moment. At first, I thought it was honestly the stupidest thing I'd ever heard. I'll admit that I was sour on it, but I said I would try it and I paid for the class so I did it. I sat through the meditations, wrote on the topics they gave, went through the exercises they instructed, and did the full day retreat. And at the end of those 6 weeks, I was alive again. I learned to savor every bite of my food. I learned how to pay attention to the sun on my skin. I learned to enjoy how it felt to have my air move in and out of my lungs. I learned how to look in the mirror and love what I saw and dress myself in what made me happy (this is when I started with the disco clothes). The warm feel of skin, the taste of my favorite soda, the beautiful way my cat purrs, the glorious smell of rain, the lovely way dust looks illuminated by the sun - I learned how to Live.

My life is still hard. My pain has not improved. I did get that surgery, so now my back is thankfully more stable than it's ever been. I know that I probably won't live a very long time compared to most, but none of that makes me sad anymore, not really. I have my bad days, and I have my good days, and no matter what, I live in the moment. I feel my emotions and let them have their space within me before letting them flow. And after over a decade of not touching my art because I felt like it was robbed from me, I paint now. I paint for myself, and I paint for others, and by God, I enjoy every second of it. I feed the little barn cats out in the back of where I live now, and I love them. I enjoy the sound of the wind through the oak trees, and I listen to my music, and I take pictures of the bugs. I watch the clouds race by when it's about to storm, and I talk to the flowers that grow outside my fence. I love my bed for holding me on my bad days and love that I have pretty artwork from friends hanging on my walls to comfort me when I can't leave my room. I dress up in my fun disco stuff whenever I can, and on the days I can't, I enjoy my soft, comfy pj's. I talk to my friends online every day and apologize for the days I can't when my pain makes it too hard to think. I play fun video games and watch good movies and enjoy fun podcasts. I Live.

Today, I am 30 years old. I have lived through what should have killed me many times over. And I am so, so happy I am here. And for however long I have, I will continue to live in the moment, enjoying the days and moments I can and allowing the bad to simply be bad. I plan for tomorrow because that is all I can plan for.

I live, and that is enough.

#not sure how to tag this #hope i guess #also you can reblog this of you want #i dont mind

[brightgnosis]

We legitimately thought today was going to be the day. She rejected her 11 am dose of medicine in the most violent way possible (I'll spare the details; it wasn't pretty. It was assaulting to all of the senses), and the way it was done, we were sure it was going to be soon. But she calmed down and stabilized finally.

I don't know what it was today, but I saw my Husband crying in all of that commotion while I was trying to coordinate everyone and get Hospice called for an examination, and it broke me; I've seen him cry a thousand times- far worse than today, even- since this started going downhill in December, but something in today just ... Opened the floodgates in me finally.

I'm annoyingly high empathy when it comes to interacting with media. The slightest sad bit encountered in text, or movie, or game, and I'm bawling my eyes out like a stupid, overemotional little toddler ... People's real life pain, suffering, and even death, though? Has always had little effect on me no matter how close they are on me; I'm so low empathy that I was once called "more heartless than Satan" by my own parents growing up. I had to actively teach myself how to respond "appropriately" to these situations.

In short: I mask death, dying, pain, and sadness. I mimic sympathy and empathy. It's the right thing to do on a Human level. But I don't actually feel it too well on a personal level. It's been incredibly useful these last couple of months, however, and let me care for his mom properly without anything getting in the way. And by all counts, I've done that successfully. The family- including my Husband- has been raving about it and thanking me left and right for giving her the best care to the point it actively makes me uncomfortable.

But I don't know what happened today ... Seeing him crying. Not being able to hold him to comfort him ... I don't know if I'm just at my wit's end exhausted finally, or what. But I finally just started sobbing, too. And since it's started, I haven't been able to get it to stop. But at first it was for him and the fact he was losing his mom. Now, though, it's moved from crying for him to crying for her.

Like ... God, all the times I complained about her. The way she spoke about God and religion drove me nuts, and I hated that she was Pentecostal. She got on my nerves so often because she was horrid at communicating basic things. And we just had different living preferences. We butted heads a lot over it while we lived together ... And yet ... Still, we loved each other ... Still, I'm the only person she's ever forgiven for breaking something sentimental of hers; the only "woman" in her sons' lives she's ever called her daughter- and the only one she's ever let call her mom. She loved it; I was the one she wanted giving her medicine in her final days, and nursing her.

She called me her "Baby Girl"- and then before she slipped into the null state finally, when she was still cognizant most days, he called me "Her Ruth". I never read her the Book of Ruth like I promised I would when she was still cognizant, though; with everything going on and so many people to coordinate, I just never got the chance to do it like we'd talked about. I finally asked for the room today and read it to her, sobbing the whole way through (I didn't think I was going to be able to do it, I just kept crying so hard). And I'll read it again at her funeral when it's time- and again and again every year on her Yahrzeit.

And I'll say the Mourner's Kaddish for the next year when she finally passes. And I'll save a lock of her hair. And I'll get cremation jewelry made when her ashes are returned to us finally. And I'll build her an Ancestral Altar all her own- and hopefully she'll like it and won't find it offensive. And I'll give her offerings of Decaffeinated Lady Grey (a Tea I introduced her to, that wound up becoming her favorite) and the incenses we bought her for her Birthday last year that she never wanted to burn "because then it'll all be gone"; I'll do for her all the things I would have done for my Biological Mother had she ever been worthy of the title. Because she was my mom who finally taught me what a normal, non-abusive family should've been like. Warts, and glitter, and all.

#Personal #2024 #She Called Me 'Her Ruth' #Multigenerational Households Are Fun Until They're Not

[theobscurepotato]

Happy Birthday @straysinfiltrator! I am so sad to not be there this year celebrating with you. I hope this year ahead is filled with only the best for you. <3

Unfortunately I have not finished your birthday fic yet, so I will offer you this tumblr teaser instead.

---

It should have been a standard mission. When Blake muttered something to that effect out loud, Avon laughed humorously. 

"You realize, Blake, that even your 'standard missions' are rife with mishaps." 

The comment stung more than Blake expected. He thought himself inoculated against most of Avon's criticisms, finding himself generally amused rather than annoyed. 

It's the truth of it that rankles you. Because you know he's right. No–right or not, now wasn't the time for wallowing in guilt. 

"How are the teleport bracelets coming along?" 

A flash of annoyance crossed the other man's face and for a split second, Blake wondered if Avon was going to throw the pieces on the ground and storm away. But after a moment of uncomfortably long eye contact, Avon resumed fidgeting with the components. "Just as they were when you last asked me. No, I stand corrected: three minutes further along than when you last asked me. Which was-–"

"Three minutes ago. I know." 

The worst thing about it was that the entire crew had agreed to this mission with none of their usual bickering. Planet Zedlak was-–according to Orak–-the host to a rare plant that could be used to combat psychic assault. "It would make me feel safer," Cally had said, hesitantly, and even though Blake had seen the strange sort of friendship growing between her and Avon, he was still surprised when the other man volunteered to accompany Blake down to the planet's surface. Volunteered being perhaps not the most accurate of terms--Avon simply told Blake that he was going in a tone that practically invited Blake to argue with him, and so Blake had agreed in order to not give into what he wanted. By…giving into what Avon wanted. (Well, it made rather more sense to him in the moment…)

And it hadn't been unpleasant. The mission had started out quite well. While Zedlak was a harsh and unforgiving planet during the day, prone to temperature extremes, the night air felt cool and fresh. And the planet was possessed of a certain beauty that few planets still retained: the desert floor looked like a reflection of the starry sky; the blooms of the mariposa flowers that were their objective shimmered softly before them, flickering in the darkness. 

It wasn't until they had harvested a kilo of the dense roots that they realized that Avon was having some sort of allergic reaction. And even then, it wasn't until they tried to contact the Liberator and failed that the panic started to set in.

Avon set the bracelets down abruptly and turned to cough wetly into his sleeve. Blake frowned.

"You sound worse. We should move away from the plants."

"A brilliant idea," Avon finally muttered, "if we had any idea what else is out there in the dark." 

"We better hope it stays dark," Blake commented. "Or that desert sun could do some real harm." 

Avon's jaw twitched, but he kept silent as he fidgeted with the bracelets, twisting them back and forth with more aggression than was probably necessary. 

A shock of fluorescent light startled them both. As the harsh beam began sweeping back and forth over the field, Blake pushed Avon to the ground and dropped down next to him. 

"We better hope it's not Servalan," Avon whispered, with an odd smile that looked more terrified than anything else. "Because she will do us real harm."

And enjoy every moment, Blake thought miserably, as he watched Avon bite the palm of his hand to stifle his coughing. "Avon, we need to get out of here. I'll take the bracelets. Keep low and follow me."  

Avon looked like he wanted to argue, but either he lacked an alternate solution, or simply didn't have enough breath to explain one. 

"Follow me," Blake repeated, and without looking to see if Avon complied, he began army-crawling into the thicket.

#blakes 7 #theobscurepotatowrites #gift fic

[recurring-polynya]

Fanfic Round-Up 2023

I was looking at last year's round-up in preparation for doing this and it is very hilarious because it starts out with "well I set a new record in sucking" and let me tell you: I have blown away last year's new record in sucking.

That's not entirely fair-- last year, I had a pretty big word count before I stripped out everything that I hadn't actually written that year, which knocked it down to about 113k. This year, I posted an extremely sad 58,086 words, but if you add in the fanfic I spent half the year working on and haven't finished yet, it gets back up to about...113k. This is still roughly half of what I used to be capable of, but I guess I'm just not anymore. I actually tried to quit writing in the first part of the year, because it was making me miserable, but it turns out that then I just got I-am-not-writing-miserable, which was much, much worse, so I just started Doing It Miserable. I finally started feeling a little better around October before I got kneecapped by Christmas, just like I do every year. Anyway!! Here's the goods:

Most of this year's Squad Six is Jerks (volume 4 of my multi-year collection of short stories) was stuff for RenRuki week, so technically it got written in December of 2022, or before because at least two of them were things I had lying around. It includes Part 3 of my silly Renji-joins-Squad 4 AU, an angsty TYBW healing springs story, some zanpakutou nonsense, and a nice Rukia birthday story that I'm actually pretty proud of. Later on in the years, as part of the Bleach Returns event to celebrate cour 2 of the anime, I wrote a little post-lude to the Rukia's arrest scene, which I am never not thinking about.

My big accomplishment for the year, I guess, was go places, a Rukia-and-Renji-prepare-to-try-out-for-the-Academy story. I had started it years ago, and it was just this little, no-plot thing that I was fond of, and I decided to dust it off and make something of it. That turned out to be a ton more work than I expected, but I'm actually really proud of the result, which is a little bit melancholy, but also full of heart (and world building). Please read it if you enjoy scenes where characters go to the post office.

On my usual one-every-three-to-twelve-months pace, I wrote two adult fanfics this year. One is the (loose) sequel to the other. If you like stories about people having sex in extremely inconvenient places, please check out the very descriptively named Rukia and Renji Bone Down in the Urahara Shouten Stockroom and/or Things to Do in Hueco Mundo When There's a Sandstorm and You're Stuck in a Cave.

The last thing for this year was a fraction of your happy heart (irresolution doesn't suit you), a nice story where Renji and Orihime commiserate about the long-haul pining lifestyle and then go fight each other for funsies. Now that I think about it, this was another one that I pulled out of the dusty WIPs pile and finished off.

I guess that was a big theme for this year, which on one hand, sounds kind of lazy, because all I did was finish things. On the other hand, I finished a lot of things, which is sort of the perpetual lament of the fanfic writer, so good for me. Also, it was easy for some of them, but for others, it was a lot of work (I am looking at you, go places).

Also, I very much did spent a lot of time working on my next installment of the Heart is a Muscle. There's still a significant stretch to go, but I'm pretty confident that I'll be able to complete it in the first part of 2024, before the Summer Vacation slump (I have now learned to set my expectations very low for June-Aug and also the month of December, because that's just how it is). After that, I'm optimistically hoping to pick up and complete a little in love now and then as my fall project, but that's a long way off, so we'll just have to see.

#my writing #year end roundups

[sorcerous-caress]

Imaginary Human and elf conversation I have in my head the past few day :

Elf : I’m finally 100 yo! I can’t wait to start picking up some study and hopefully start venture outside my home in the next 50 years!

Human : That’s neat. I left home when I was late teen to find job by that time I’m quite a competent wizard since I started immediately after I can read. I got accidentally captured by drows, lived in Menzoberranzan for a year or two. I escaped after poisoned Matron mother to death. Then I returned to surface, helped a random village from being wiped out by goblins and orcs. Dating one high elf, who I already divorced, and had two half-elves children. Oh and I probably changed nationalities two times by the time I’m 25. I don’t think I accomplished much as a 25 humans :(

Elf : Y O U W H A T

— RED Anon

Dudee that's what I'm saying! Elves are too coddled fr.

Humans start their education at 6 years old, sometimes younger if you count kindergarten, then finish it at 18.

And the second you hit 18, all the questions start pouring in like

"When are you getting a job?" // "When will you ge married?"

"Who will you vote for?" // "So, did you find a place to move out to?"

And don't let me get started on the weird 20's span where half your friends are married with kids and the other half are in the club.

And that's just the basic of human life, there is still their adventurer class studies or training.

Sure, elves consider their 18-year-old youngs technically adults, but that's just an excuse to allow them to drink and go wild with each other. But in their own circles, they still treat them as kids who don't know better and should wait for their 100th birthday to mature.

Also, the inherited human feelings of shame and incompetence, a tendency towards addiction.Like you're not doing enough, and you're lagging behind.

That is a real thing.

It's called the hedonic set point. Each human has it a certain point in a scale of "happiness" or the emotions responsible for it in general, the feel good hormones your brain releases on average.

If something happens that makes you feel good, your emotional state goes above the set point, if you feel bad, your emotional state goes below the setpoint.

But eventually, you will always return to the starting emotional state, your hedonic set point.

And we don't determine where it's set, nor do all humans have it equally set. Which means some people will always have a worse emotional state by default, with no faults of their own, no matter what they achieved.

Addictions are an easy source of happiness hormones, rewards hormones etc. It can be food, sugar, gambling, gaming, or even more extreme addictions. That's why human resistances to addictions varies widely

Which is what honestly drives some people to always seek more, to achieve more or climb higher.

( i removed a previous written part here after editing this post months later because I couldn't find sources to support the theory, it was the part about the hedonic set point being the caused by evolution and natural selection, that sad humans are more likely to survive)

It's also an existence crisis in It's own, isn't it? The feeling like everything cool has already been done before and you will never stand out from the billions of the humans on earth. The feeling that your life is meaningless and the world wouldn't change if you had stopped existence.

So you take art, like writing, hello there :), or music or climbing or anything that will leave your fingerprints behind. Leave an essence of yourself behind that says I was here. I am a human being and i effceted people and things, I Existed and I Mattered.

All of this is the human experience. To be human.

The constant race between each and every one of us, the constant need to shift and change and improve upon ourselves and our own society. Each generation is vastly different than the last and sometimes condems all their ancestors' rules.

By the time an elf matures, a whole generation of humans came snd reshaped society before bidding their goodbyes. All races will have to readjust to the most recent human culture that frequently changes.

If anything, one could argue that long-lived races hinder human progress. The only thing constant in humans is change and expansions. But for elves they rather take a small space and join the natural progress while humans seek to destroy and flee the the cycle of nature.

#ehe #kinda went off the rails #♡human reader #♡red anon

[kierreras]

It’s really getting to me how the characters in the show ( besides Steven the best character on the show ) and the show itself are almost painting Conrad as the villain. He is an 18 year old older brother who has been made to act like an adult from a young age, who has depression and anxiety. On the same note the show trying to build up jeremiah the “ nice guy” who yells at belly, constantly throws her heartbreak in her face, and makes her feel like she can’t be herself. I find it quite triggering and I really hope they are doing this for a purpose in season 3 because if the show or writers of the show don’t think that Jeremiah’s behaviour is worse than Conrad’s than that is worrying. I also hated that they made jeremiah some sort angel with the finale. Him suddenly being selfless felt extremely out of character and WAY TOO FORCED. I’m all for character growth but he was annoyed about the candy 5 minutes earlier? The only way it makes sense was him Doing it to try and save himself.

oh, i think the show does a decent job at showing that both conrad and jeremiah are not perfect. for conrad it's more obvious because people usually mistreat anxiety and depression as a "he's toxic, he's bad, he's a villain". but also in the contrast of conrad the show portrays jeremiah as a golden retriever who, if you dig deeper, tends to manipulate and, just like conrad, he can't express his feelings without hurting other people. he's not the villain too, as for me, but also he's not a saint. if some people don't see that jeremiah is not the greatest guy, it's their own ability or inability to analyse people. but i think anyone who can do an analysis of character's action can notice that conrad and jeremiah are always do something in parallel with each other. for example, people looooove to say that conrad only makes a move when belly is unavailable, but also jeremiah, kind of, does too? he tries to embarrass belly in front of cameron on her birthday dinner, he tries to make her sing and draws unwanted attention to her at nicole's party. jeremiah expresses his jealousy by making her uncomfortable, when conrad expresses his jealousy by making her sad. they both don't know how to express feelings correctly and while jeremiah does it with less damage, he's not a saint still. they are teenagers and they know shit about real communications, but if we're treating one brother as a teenager why can't we treat another one as a teenager too? and i think jeremiah's ability to manipulate, whether he does it on purpose or not, is also portrayed as a contrast of conrad's ability to blame himself and close himself up. i don't think that jeremiah is a villain or the worst character, no, but i also can see those manipulations that he does in order to get other people realise things. i see an issue in the way he requires other people to tiptoe around him if he doesn't like something, whereas conrad just backs away when he doesn't like something. not a great thing, really, but again contrasts! i think the show does decent job with them, it's just not everyone wants to acknowledge that their favourite character is not perfect. as for making jeremiah act differently in the last episode, i was surprised too. but also i think for jeremiah it was the peak point. he can analyse people, he was the first one to realise that there's some shift in belly/conrad dynamic in the first season, he's not stupid. so my personal opinion is that he was doing a damage control in the finale, because he realised that he's either going to lose his brother or he's going to lose the girl he likes. so he was making sure that at the end the damage would not be that huge. at the end of the day, i really believe that he loves both conrad and belly and he doesn't want to specifically hurt them or make their lives miserable. but note that is my subjective opinion which can be wrong. and also this part really made me miss obx press because ew recorded interviews with actors in which they were reviewing every episode and discussing why the characters were acting this way. i think that type of interviews could be a great idea for tsitp too, because for tsitp there's always a subtext for everything, you know.

#ask #tsitp

[whothe-hell-ismary]

Half Love/Half Regret

Steve probably shouldn’t find it as funny as he does. He’s surrounded by his friends, his family, who care about him enough that they staged this shindig. Spurred on by Eddie, of all people. They just want him to get clean, healthy, stop self-destructing. He just can’t stop laughing. 

He can’t remember the last time he laughed this hard. He’s curled in on himself, almost falling off the sofa as his body heaves. Robin has wrenched her hand out of his and is standing now, glaring at him through the tears in her eyes, but he still can’t stop. He can feel Eddie on his other side, can just imagine the way he’s looking at him, how everyone is looking at him. 

It’s touching, really. Everyone is here. The Party, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie all surrounding him in his living room. He didn’t know what was happening at first, thought he’d really lost his mind and had forgotten it was his birthday or some shit. 

They’d gingerly herded him to the sofa, watching him with their sad eyes as they sat in a circle around him. Then the stories started. Dustin had been the first to go, told him how much he loved having him as a big brother and he couldn’t imagine facing the rest of his teenage years without him. Lucas followed, spouting off some weird basketball anecdotes, then the rest of the kids. By the time they got to Nancy, Steve realized what was going on. This was an intervention. 

Eddie had ratted him out. What an ass.

Steve had been able to hold it together through Nancy and Jonathan’s speeches, but when it got to Robin and she immediately started sobbing, he just couldn’t keep it up anymore. One look in her tear-filled eyes and Steve lost it. 

He’s not sure how long it’s been. He’s on the floor now, gasping for breath as his laughter finally starts to subside. He takes his time sitting up and reorienting himself. He looks around, sees the disappointed eyes watching him. He knows they think he’s really lost his shit now, Nancy’s probably already sent some secret signal to have the local psych hospital come pick him up. 

“Guys, I appreciate all this, really, but I don’t need an intervention.” Steve sighs, rubbing a hand over his face to hide his grin. Eddie snorts above his shoulder.

“Steve, look, I… I’m sorry I told them, but I had to, man. If you keep on like this, it’s gonna kill you.” Eddie has the decency to look a little guilty, at least.

“Keep on like what, man?” Steve shakes his head, watches as Dustin throws his hands up in the air in disbelief.

“Steve.” Eddie deadpans, turning so he’s fully facing him and staring him right in the eyes. “I know you’re a little fucked up after everything with the Upside Down, after…Vecna. We all are. But, dude, you’ve literally been buying drugs from me multiple times a week. For months.”

Steve sighs again, opens his mouth to respond but Eddie’s not done.

“I wasn’t worried when it was just weed. But… shit Steve. That other shit is literally going to kill you. I was just going to refuse to sell you anymore but I figured you’d just go get it somewhere else ,and that’d be even worse. I didn’t know what else to do other than this.”

Robin sits down next to him on the floor, grabs his hand again. Steve can feel her shaking and feels awful. What a clusterfuck he’s gotten himself into.

“Steve. I love you. We love you. So much. You know we’re here for you, and you know we know what you’re going through. Please don’t do this to yourself, just let us help.” She’s crying again, and Steve’s had enough.

He gently removes his hand from hers and stands up, glancing around the room again.

“Look, just… just wait here one second, okay?” He heads for the stairs, hears someone following behind him, knows they no longer trust him to be alone. He knows it’s Eddie without looking. He knows the way the air shifts around Eddie’s body at this point… knows what his footsteps sound like, knows how his jeans swish as he moves, can feel the nervous, anxious energy radiating off of him like always. 

“You gonna wipe my ass for me too, Munson?” Steve asks over his shoulder, taking the steps two at a time. He hears Eddie sigh but doesn’t get a response.

Steve turns into his bedroom and heads straight for his closet, reaching into the back corner and pulling out his old backpack. He throws it onto the bed and leans back against the wall, crossing his arms as he glares at Eddie.

“Go on. Open it.” 

Eddie’s clearly confused, but steps over to the bed, unzipping the backpack and peering inside.

“Steve, what the actual fuck?” 

Steve starts laughing again, doesn’t answer and instead grabs the backpack and heads back downstairs, Eddie hot on his heels. He gets to the living room and dumps the contents in the middle of the floor, in view of everyone.

6 months worth of weed, Special K, and a few other special goodies lie on the floor, untouched. All eyes are on him.

“Steve, again I ask… What. The. Actual. Fuck.” Eddie’s the one with his arms crossed now, so many emotions running across his face that Steve can’t tell if he’s relieved, angry, or just really confused. Probably all three, really.

“I’m not doing drugs, guys. Yeah, I… I bought them. But I’ve never taken any of it. Other than the weed every once in a while when the headaches get really bad or something.” 

“Then why the hell did you buy all of this from me?” 

“Please don’t make me answer that.” Steve groans. He suddenly doesn’t think it’s funny anymore, realizes he’s actually backed himself into a corner here and it’s about to turn into a whole other kind of intervention. 

“Uh, you kinda have to, man. You have literally given me thousands of dollars for drugs you had no intention of using. Why on earth would you do that?”

Steve’s frozen. A real deer in headlights. He can’t think of a single good excuse other than the truth, and he’s not about to blurt that shit out in front of all these…

“Because he’s in love with you,” Max blurts from her spot in the recliner, smirking like she’s just found the cure for cancer but isn’t going to share it for less than a billion dollars. Steve hates her.. Wants to murder her. Like, yesterday. He’s never driving her anywhere again, definitely. The scales of favoritism have tipped back towards Dustin. Fuck, even Mike is above her at this point.

Steve hears soft, uncomfortable laughter from a few corners of the rooms, but he can’t take his eyes off Eddie. Eddie, who’s still just staring at him, eyes narrowing but not in an entirely unpleasant way?

“Steve?” His voice is soft, hesitant. Steve’s done for. He might as well spill the beans. He had his crisis silently and privately months ago, he knows everyone in this room loves and supports him no matter what, Max already fucking spilled the beans for him, the little narc.

“Yeah…yeah because I’m in love with you. Or something,” Steve mutters, shoving his hands in the pocket of his hoodie as he starts rambling. “I think I realized when I thought I lost you, ya know, to Vecna. And I just… I just wanted to be around you all the time, I think? No, I know. I did. I still do. And I knew you wouldn’t want to just hang out, like why the fuck would you want to hang out with me? So, I figured I’d just be a paying customer and you’d have to spend time with me and then we could be friends and hang out for real and then… shit, it just spiraled, man. I’m so sorry.” 

Eddie takes a step towards him but Steve stumbles backward, hitting the patio door as he tries to keep space between them. 

“You can have the drugs back, too. I don’t want the money back! I don’t need it, you need it more than me. But… I mean I’m not going to do the drugs so you might as well re-sell them or something, whatever you want, I-”

“Steve, please shut up.” Eddie’s in his space now anyway. Steve is trapped against the door and Eddie is close, closer than he should be, why is he so close? 

“I love you too, you fucking idiot.” Eddie’s eyes are twinkling, his smile taking over his face, and all Steve can do is stare.

“You…what?” 

“I. Love. You. Too.” Eddie leans forward, presses a soft kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth after each word. “And you’re a fucking idiot, can’t forget that part. Why the hell did you ever think I wouldn’t want to hang out with you? I’ve been ass over tits for you since you brought me YooHoo in that boathouse, babe.” 

Steve’s laughing again, and this time those beautiful butterflies in his stomach accompany the laughter. 

Eddie’s hand cups his jaw as he rests their foreheads together. “How about we start spending some quality time together without the business transactions, yeah?”  “Yeah. Yeah I’d really like that, Eds.” Steve brings their lips together and as he hears the cheers and fake gagging erupt around them, he thinks what a beautiful clusterfuck he’s gotten himself into, indeed.

#this is awful i'm sorry #its been in my head forever i had to get it out #please excuse any errors and the fact it doesn't flow and isn't fleshed out #steddie my beloved #pining idiots