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#working on the fanfic of this
papercrown301 · 1 year
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Ok, I've settled on an au, not very original I'm sure. But its hard to make good original things if everyone else has already done it :")
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Its an Intruder au, were Y/N (instead of working at the Pizzaplex) breaks in (undercover), in an attempt to figure out what the 'glitch virus' truly is. The dca is the only one that seems to be visually (such as his eyes) affected by the virus. So that was Y/N's main priority to get close enough to deactivate the bot to try and get a hold of the corrupted chip. (Little doesn't Y/N know, that Sun and Moon share a body. They think the two are totally different animatronics. Just that ones stays while the lights are on, and the other stays when the lights are out.)
(Do ignore Moons stupid face, I dont usually draw it that way, just needed it for the scare factor)
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watcher0033 · 10 months
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Y’all, the Archive admins are made up of VOLUNTEERS. And they have been working for 12-13 HOURS STRAIGHT.
I better not hear any complaints when donation period comes around. OR ELSE.
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cosplay by @woahchriswoah on Twitter
EDIT: How do we show appreciation to the volunteers? For me reading these deep dives on OTW issues u guys apparently it's been said multiple times that one of their objective statements is to have paid staff for ao3 and there's a surplus of donations they haven't used up or the other community solutions that needs to address. For those more financially literate feel free to analyze, snipe me or add to the discussion etc. linked here by deepa. They’re cool and these yearly analysis they did aint no joke.
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But Seriously what can we do for these volunteers? The probable burn out from this entire fiasco would be no joke. @ao3org
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fictionadventurer · 5 months
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Personally, it's always a bit wild to me to see commentators interact with the Hunger Games franchise as if Collins were writing science fiction stories instead of essays with faces. She's just not that interested in fleshing out side characters or digging into the details of the worldbuilding. These characters are concepts and symbols before they're people. There's an almost mathematical precision to who and what she explores and how deeply she does it. This is a step or two away from pure allegory. If she were writing a couple of centuries ago, she'd have named her characters things like Innocence and Anger and Watch-Carefully-Your-Soul-Lest-Ye-Be-Damned, but since she's writing for modern audiences, she has to settle for puns and allusions. If she has another essay to write, she'll assign some faces to it; she's not going to look into backstories or other eras just for the sake of storytelling, and it's not a failing as a writer that she doesn't.
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pen-of-roses · 6 months
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Do y'all ever think about how cool it is that art inspires other art inspires other art inspires other art in an endless cycle
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wanderingblindly · 10 months
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fonulyn · 7 months
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since I've seen it talked about in several places recently:
if you are going to do a whump- or kink- or ANY-tober or other similar challenges please please please don't post them as one fic with 31 chapters unless it actually is one coherent fic. if they're 31 completely separate fics or ficlets then please just make a collection for them or just post them as separate fics. it doesn't matter if they're only 100 words or if you think they're too small or insignificant to post alone, they're not.
and why this?
because if you post all 31 of them in one fic the tagging is absolutely useless. if I look for things to read on ao3 I'm gonna look at the tags, and if the tags include something that's a dealbreaker for me, i won't even click on the fic. I might not even SEE the fic because I've filtered out the nope-tag! so I'm gonna lose out on reading 30 perfectly nice fics because of one fic that my nope-tag applied to.
ao3 is about archiving. it's about clear tagging and being informative. there is nothing informative about it if the tags in the fic apply to random chapters while others have nothing to do with it. it makes so much more sense to have each work as an individual fic with its own individual tags and warnings, so readers can make informed choices.
of course, you do you. I can't police what other people decide to do. but personally, I find it incredibly frustrating to weed through 31 chapters to find the ones I actually want to read. so I don't. I automatically scroll past all works posted like that. and I know some others do, too.
there is absolutely no shame in posting short things on ao3. there is no minimum word count. no one is going to look at you funny if you post a small ficlet on its own, I promise. it's just going to make some readers very happy when they can actually find the things they want to read.
so, please. at least consider the upsides of posting each work as their own fic.
signed, one very frustrated fandom grandma.
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rafesmuse · 2 months
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rafe cameron’s rich and confident baddie!gf hcs ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
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moodboard . outfits . masterlist . jj version .
ꨄ︎ rafe usually goes for sweet submissive girls, since he likes to have control, but the moment you laid your eyes on the pretty boy, you knew you had to have him. and as usual, you always get what you want.
ꨄ︎ all eyes are focused on you when you both enter a room, rafe simply being your accessory as your louboutin heels clack on the ground, head held high with your make up, nails and hair perfectly done.
ꨄ︎ rafe used to get lots of attention from girls before, but now that you’re dating him? girls don’t even dare to look his way because of your intimidating aura. if they were stupid enough to still flirt with him, then you’d have no problem putting the bitch in her place. “listen, yeah? you better go flirt with topper or kelce or whoever the fuck, cause trust me, you don’t wanna know what happens when my girlfriend finds out.”
ꨄ︎ you secretly pay the bill at a restaurant when rafe’s at the bathroom, a trick he used on his previous girlfriends. he comes back to the table, pulling his wallet out before you place your hand over it with a smile, telling him it’s already been paid. “oh for fucks sake. you really gotta stop that, a’ight?”
ꨄ︎ it’s always a battle for dominance in the bedroom, rafe desperately wanting to have all the control but you not letting him have it easily. one time he accidentally slipped out a ‘mommy’, which you’ve never let go of ever since. “i never fucking said that, okay? you heard it wrong!”
ꨄ︎ topper and kelce constantly tease rafe for being your bitch but not daring to say a word when you’re around, their demeanour instantly shifting when you walk into the room, making rafe smirk as he looks at you proudly. “not much to say now, top? yeah, that’s what i thought.”
ꨄ︎ you have no trouble confronting ward whenever he treats rafe unfairly. ward was taken aback at first, not being used to rafe’s girlfriends talking back at him, making his eyes widen and almost choke on his expensive wine. later, he realised you’re exactly the kind of girl rafe needed this whole time.
ꨄ︎ you’re the centre of attention at parties— your hips swinging to the beat when you’re dancing with your girlfriends, your short dress leaving little room for imagination. you’d try to drag rafe to the dance floor, interrupting him when he’s busy dealing drugs, but knowing he won’t ever say no to you. “jesus, just fucking leave me a— i mean. i’ll… i’ll be there in a bit, okay?”
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luvjunie · 11 months
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earth 42 miles reaction to reader hanging up the phone on his face mid argument?
— facetime
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pairing: e-42!miles (aged up) x fem!reader
contains: arguing, minimal cursing, slightly toxic behavior lol
summary: you love miles, but his overbearing nature is beginning to irritate you. the two of you get into an argument over it on facetime, and you snap at him and hang up the phone. wc: 1,537
a/n: ik the pic might not make sense regarding who hung up on who, but i like it so we finna pretend it does lol. miles/reader are only aged up for plot
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“look mami, you not hearin’ me. i’m not tryna control you, i’m just saying maybe it would be best if-“
“that is literally you trying to control me.”
you cut miles off from another one of his mini tangents as you stared at him through the facetime call on your screen, so far beyond the point of caring to hear the same thing he’d told you a million times.
you loved your boyfriend with everything in you. honestly, you did. but in the last few months he’d grown to be so much more controlling than he was in the beginning, a result of his ridiculous need to protect you and it’s got your head spinning on your shoulders. you couldn’t do anything without him looming over you, and you’re fed up. it was suffocating, and you needed him to know that you could handle yourself.
you heard his voice come in again from your phone’s speakers.
“aight fine, if that’s what you wanna think, then that’s cool. but i don’t want you going out that late, chiquita, simple. ain’t no discussion.”
“alright, bro.” you sighed, and he tutted at you.
“i’m not your ‘bro’. don’t do that.”
while you knew your boyfriend only wanted the best for you, you didn’t really understand the extent to all these rules he’d given you. like no going to the corner store at night, having to keep your location on at all times, or having to send a picture of yourself when you’d gotten back into the house— so he could really make sure it was actually you texting him from your phone.
since then, you’d deemed it safe to assume that he most likely had immense trust issues, and that was why he acted so strangely, because any other reason for this kind of behavior seemed ludicrous to you.
miles had yet to tell you he was the prowler, that certain people had bounties on his head, which included anyone who may be involved with him, anyone he holds close to him. he saw everything that went on in this city— when night had fallen and the streets became far too dangerous of a place for a defenseless girl like you to be out in them. you had no idea the kind of people he dealt with, the things he’d seen, the things he had to do. he just didn’t want you to get hurt, but he wasn’t the best at expressing the sincerity of his words, and they often came out too rough, too harsh. it was the best he could do, he was trying to communicate effectively, he really was. but time and time again you’d failed to try and understand his pleas past the words spoken to you; to actually listen to them, and comprehend them, and not just listen to respond.
so, being you, you retorted like the stubborn girl you always were. the stubborn girl he’d fallen so helplessly in love with and was only trying to protect with his entire being.
you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him in disbelief. “look, you can’t tell me what to do, miles. i can do what i want.”
he didn’t hear anything that came from your mouth, because the expression on your face had completely distracted him from the conversation at hand.
“hol’ on, did you just roll your eyes at me?” his brow raised, daring you to answer that question with anything but a ‘no’.
what you responded with wasn’t necessarily a ‘yes’ per sé, but it definitely wasn’t any better.
“oh, so you wanna control my face now, too? dictating what i do with my life or the shit i say isn’t enough for you?” you challenged.
his head dipped back as he laughed, a deep, provoked laugh— though the both of you knew nothing was funny, and that this was always how he reacted before he actually got angry. laughing it off was a means for him to screw his head back on right, as if a warning to you to not push him too far, because anybody who spoke to him with this kind of gall just had to be joking.
he exhaled heavily, a hand scrubbing down his face.
“can’t lie, you talkin’ mad crazy right now, ma. i think you need to cool it with that.” he warned, corners of his lips turned into a forewarning leer. “ima let that lil’ shit you just said slide, cause i love you, and ion wanna hurt your feelings, but we done talking about this.” he decided, leaning forward to prop his phone back up on his desk before scooping his playstation controller back up into his hands.
“and watch your mouth.”
chin retreating towards your chest, you were taken aback at how quickly he decided for the both of you that the conversation was over, as if you had to agree with him, as if things were decided simply because he’d said so. and somehow, you found it in all your unbridled nerve to make things worse.
“yeah, you’re right. we are.”
thumb pressing to the red X, you hung up the phone, leaving miles to gape at the black of his screen with shock etched into his features. he waited for you to call back and tell him it was an accident, and sat there for a minute, leg bouncing to maintain what little patience he’d managed to cling onto during this entire ordeal. he swallowed his pride and called you back, only for the screen to read ‘facetime unavailable’ after just two rings. you declined it. squaring his jaw, he calmly nodded to himself, phone snatched up, jacket thrown on and controller tossed onto his bed— game forgotten about.
“bet.”
____
you were fuming after you’d hung up the phone, steam probably would’ve been puffing from your ears if something like that were possible outside of the cartoons. there was a tiny part—no, a huge part of you that knew you shouldn’t have hung up on him like that; that regretted it. a part that knew miles’ was genuinely trying his best to speak to you calmly in the way he’d learned how, specifically for you, when calm was something he rarely ever felt. but you couldn’t help your anger either, and figured a break from the conversation, and a shower to calm you down would do the both of you some good.
you sauntered out your bathroom after about twenty minutes, a towel tightly wrapped round your damp torso and a heavy, depleted exhale departing from your lungs.
you felt relaxed. the heat of the water had washed away most, if not all of your anger towards the situation and you sighed to yourself, ready to come back to the discussion with a level head, and to apologize to your boyfriend for snapping at him and ending the call so abruptly. it was rude of you, and honestly you hadn’t thought it through until you had already—
“you know, ion usually fuck with cats like that, cause y’all kinda freak me out. but you cool.”
the inner dialogue of your thoughts were cut off by a familiar voice, muffled through the shut door of your bedroom.
“what the fuck—“ you hurriedly started towards the door, hand barely remaining on the doorknob for a second as you flung it open, to see none other than your boyfriend, miles, sat in your desk chair with your cat, bella, in his lap.
he was leaned back, his large green puffer jacket still on, legs spread in his grey sweats. he looked very comfortable for someone who had just broken into a home.
“how the hell did you get into my house, miles?”
you stared at him unbelievingly, quickly shutting the door behind you. he was in no rush to lift his head to address you directly as he scratched the underside of bella’s chin with his pointer finger.
“window. you should really lock that.”
“even if i had, you would’ve picked it.” you argued.
“true.”
his eyes eventually met yours, and they gave you a drawn out once over, gaze following the drops of water that rolled down your skin. there was a hint of a smirk on his lips, and he almost forgot what he came here for. almost.
you felt your face heat up, grip tightening over your bath towel as you shifted on your feet, suddenly feeling flustered from the boldness of his gaze. so he looked away.
“let’s hope that shower gave your mama some of her sense back, huh?” he dipped his head down to address your cat in a sweet voice, before gently lifting her off his lap and placing her back onto the floor, only for her to drag her head and body along his calf with a purr. traitor.
he leaned back once more, hands patiently clasped between his open legs and head cocked to the side, twin braids swishing behind him when he did so.
“so wassup? you wanna try that conversation again?” with a brow raised he studied your features, as if he were silently challenging you to talk that same shit you did over the phone to his face.
“do you know what boundaries are?”
“nah, not really.” he admitted.
you swallowed, gesturing towards the open room for a reason you didn’t know why.
“can i at least get dressed first?” you cringed at how your voice sounded when you spoke, but the way he was looking at you had your mind reeling and you could only focus on one thing at a time— the argument long forgotten. to be honest, you don’t even recall what you had a problem with.
he shrugged. “sure, if that’s what you’d like.” arms crossing over his chest he spun around in your swivel chair, now facing the same window he’d come in through. “lemme know when i can turn around.”
you sighed.
this boy was going to be the death of you.
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- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!
likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗
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retellingthehobbit · 6 months
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Retelling The Hobbit Chapter 16: The Song of the Lonely Mountain First chapter / Previous / Next
To view full comic: Webtoon/A03 / Tumblr post with links to all chapters
Other blogs: TikTok/Instagram/Tumblr Sideblog
*crumbles into dust after finishing this* Thank you for reading! This The Hobbit webcomic adaptation thing takes a lot of effort to put together and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate every comment. I also really appreciate the people who’ve spread the word of this comic to their friends! <3
And finally, we’re at the Song of the Lonely Mountain! Within Tolkien’s canon, The Hobbit is an in-universe book that was “written” by Bilbo Baggins, who occasionally lies/embellishes/exaggerates things. The tonal differences between The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings are explained by Bilbo and Frodo/Sam being different kinds of storytellers, with different relationships to “the truth.” This idea is the core of how I’m adapting the novel!  Bilbo is an unreliable narrator who is literally ‘drawing’ from his own limited experiences;  the different art styles reflect the different perspectives of other characters.   The “dwarf art style” in this chapter is inspired by stonework/metalwork in general— but especially by a mix of art deco, Celtic art, and European folk art. 
The central tension of the comic is between Bilbo and Thorin, who each have wildly different ideas about what kind of  story they’re in. Thorin is in a grand fantasy epic, while Bilbo is in a lighthearted children’s book adventure.  The tragedy is, obviously, that only one side of the story ever gets to be fully told.
On a sillier note, a few years ago I had my first gay crush on a lesbian who sang while playing the piano. This chapter is dedicated to the piano lesbian. I hope they’re doing well, wherever they are. XD
I think I might need a bit of a break but I’m hoping for the next chapter, titled “Dawn,” to arrive on January 13th. And your comments/support really do help motivate me to get more done! ^_^
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mummer · 1 year
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i love the argument that something has no cultural impact because it has a low number of fics on ao3 as if fanfiction is somehow not an incredibly niche thing still
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just-french-me-up · 5 months
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every artist ever : woops I've hallucinated this thing in such excruciating details I now can't put it down on paper satisfactorily
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faux-ecrivain · 5 months
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Yan Idol
(Third official post)
Yan idol who used to be your best friend, the two of you used to be so close, but then he was recruited into stardom and suddenly he spent less, and less time with you.
Yan idol who changes his entire personality, appearance and habits (on request of his manager), until you can’t recognize him. 
Yan idol who pushes you away in favor of his famous peers, he reschedules your hangouts and brushes you off.
Yan idol’s popularity grows and so does his ego, at first you two have simple arguments. (he didn’t do his half of the chores, he didn’t pick you up from work, those sort of things) Then he starts to berate you, insisting that he was never truly your friend and only hung out with you because of pity. 
Yan idol who regrets those words the moment he says them, trying to repair your friendship with faux apologies. But it doesn’t work, you kick him out of your house, you tell him that you never want to hear from him again. 
He relents, saying it doesn’t matter as he storms out of your house, and tries to avoid his luggage as you throw it onto the yard. The two of you have a shouting match, then he’s ushered away by his manager (who had heard of the commotion via paparazzi).
When he’s safely hidden away in the car tears begin to fall and the guilt he feels fully sets in, the days pass and he tries to reconnect with you. But you reject his calls, you blocked his number and you won’t answer any letter he sends you.
Eventually his manager has had enough and tells Yan Idol that he needs to move on, that if he doesn’t start to focus on his career then he’ll be let go.
Yan idol who relents, giving in to his manager’s demands and trying to forget you. (It’s difficult, everywhere he looks he’s reminded of you.)
Yan idol who, after many months have passed, has somewhat successfully put you out of his mind. (He’s made different friends, friends within his tax bracket)
However this all changes when he sees you at a meet and greet, you’ve come with some friends, you don’t seem happy to be here. But you’re here and everything he ever felt for you comes rushing back.
He smiles (brighter than he ever has) when you and your friends approach his booth, when you and your friends are standing in front of him and you look at him. It’s almost like you recognize him, but then you look away. (Why did you look away? Don’t you recognize him? Don’t you want to be with him again?)
He tries to get your attention, but you tell him you don’t want his autograph, that you’re only here for your friends. (You definitely recognize him, you just don’t want to admit it. He thinks you’re just scared, you’re worried that he’s still upset. But he isn’t, he just wants you back, that’s all.)
Yan idol who makes the impromptu decision to invite you and your friends over (to the manager’s chagrin). 
Yan idol who incapacitates your friends and then kidnaps you.
Yan idol who’s overjoyed to have you back in his arms, he holds you close and ignores your pleas of freedom. 
Yan idol who continues performing as though nothing changed (somehow he managed to avoid being charged for the incapacitation of your friends, and the police are encourage to ignore any reports of you missing)
Yan idol who continues to gain popularity with every concert he puts on, then when it’s over he comes home to you, and acts as though the two of you were married. (Despite how much you struggle and fight)
Yan idol who’s blissfully ignorant of your anger and frustration, who interprets your actions and attempts to escape as a way of expressing your betrayal towards him.
Yan idol who promises that he’ll never leave you again, that he’ll always be here for you.
(Not my best work, but not my worst work. Either way, enjoy this short fanfic and feel free to comment.)
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liminalweirdo · 2 years
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ao3 is not instagram, and it’s not embarrassing to comment on a story that’s old. we understand that you just happened to come across it now; writing is magical in that you often come across the right story at just the time you need to read it.
also, authors will literally cry over their keyboard if you comment on the stuff they write.
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ao3-crack · 5 months
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(x)
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maxtermind · 26 days
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baby, would i still be your lover?
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★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst ★ : word count :: 2.9k ★ : a/n :: as much as i love making the crack texts, i'm just an angst addict 😔
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Max Verstappen
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Everyone, people who weren’t even in Max’s close proximity, knew that he was impulsive and a little reckless. With you, on the contrary, Max was usually a think first, act later kind of a lover. That wasn’t to say that when arguments happened, they were a pretty sight to look at.
It was a single thing that you said which suddenly turned into a huge blown out argument, leaving your head throbbing as Max continued to vent his frustrations about unrelated issues.
"You're so hot-headed, you can't even have a normal conversation without blowing up."
"Attacking me now, are you?" Max retorted, his tone defensive.
He was quick to bite back and the ball in your throat made it scratch-y to talk. You were sure that your eyes were welling up with tears but he was too far away to see it.
"I'm just stating the truth.” You started after taking a shuddering breath. “Every time we talk, it turns into a fight because you can't control your temper."
"Well, maybe if you didn't push all my buttons, we wouldn't be here."
He was talking in the same decibel at least and for a second you had hope that everything would be better. Then his words registered and the hope vanished as well.
"I'm not the one who flies off the handle at the slightest provocation!"
You had to stop and take another breath, otherwise, you were going to start crying and this conversation was inevitably going to get left in between because Max wasn’t an asshole who was okay with his girlfriend crying just because he was angry.
"You know what? I'm sick of your constant criticism."
"And I'm sick of walking on eggshells around you!"
He took a moment to say the next thing. The silence indicating that he was thinking it over first. Max's next words hung in the air, heavy with implication.
"Fine, maybe we should just call it quits then."
The suggestion hit you like a punch to the gut. Was this really that easy for him? He just ripped your heart out and splashed it on the ground. Your chest hurt so much and he was just sitting there? Was he not at all affected by the way you looked close to crying now?
"Fine. Enjoy being single and available," you retorted, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion.
Your boyfriend rolled his eyes looking over at you, indicating how he didn’t really think that you guys were breaking up. Though in your head, this was the last time you were ever going to look into his eyes again.
"You're too sensitive, always getting upset over nothing."
You were already on the edge, not having even processed that you guys almost- probably did break up over you trying to talk something out with him.
“Us breaking up is nothing to you?”
The weight of his words crashed over you, the tears finally spilling down your cheeks. Max's expression softened, regret flashing in his eyes, but it was too late. The damage had been done, and the fragile bond between you felt irreparably shattered.
Lewis Hamilton
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How can one tell if they really are in a good relationship? Is it the security and sense of peace? Is it the frequent love confessions? Honestly, the explanation might differ person to person but one thing you always believed that made a relationship was being level headed even during arguments when emotions were running high
Needless to say, you were very glad you found solace in Lewis. A person who was prone to recognizing the impact of his words. Arguments between you two were rare, and when they did occur, Lewis prioritized finding solutions rather than escalating the conflict. His ability to remain level-headed during disagreements was a cornerstone of your relationship.
Everyone has those days though, when acting out of character seems more suitable than the usual. Moments when emotions override reason.
You were more worked up than usual. Your insides were burning with this desire to get answers because your boyfriend wasn’t there with you on the day you needed him the most.
You drove back home from your conference, dismayed despite it being a very successful session, given that your proposal got accepted as soon as you were done. You just wished your chocolate eyed man was sitting in the crowd looking at you with his signature proud smile.
After a shower, you sat on your couch to watch some show and just move on from the bittersweet day. It was an hour later, when your boyfriend showed up with a bouquet in his hand. Lewis walked over to you and leaned down to kiss your head.
“Congratulations, love," he greeted, oblivious to the storm brewing within you. “Saw it on the news, sorry I couldn’t join you. Got caught up with work.”
Usually, you would have avoided the argument till you felt like you could understand his side too. That was one of the things that helped you guys the most. You both waited to discuss stuff till you knew you were calm and ready to get what the other was saying.
“Aren’t you too busy with work lately?”
He gave a humorous huff in return, not catching on.
“You know how it is once the season starts.”
“You literally got home last night and you had to go in again early in the morning?”
“Missed me?”
He had a playful grin on his face and it killed you to spoil the good mood.
"Of course, after all you're more committed to your cars than you are to me."
The words left your mouth and you were too far gone to be caring about it at this point. Lewis has been such a passionate lover so this sudden shift was hurting you.
“What was that?” he responded, his tone sharp with surprise.
However, you were done and already up to call in early but his words stopped you on our track.
“Wow. You're so insecure, it's exhausting trying to boost your ego all the time."
Tears immediately welled up in your eyes but you didn’t turn around and with a deflated sigh, walked into your bedroom before locking the door while Lewis stood frozen in his place, not believing his own words.
It was like he was in a stance and all he could do was listen to you cry through the closed door on a day when you guys were supposed to be celebrating each other’s wins.
Carlos Sainz
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Carlos was the perfect man. His mature yet easy going demeanor was exactly what you needed in a partner. You hadn't been together for that long to be at the altar but just enough to know that you were going to last.
You understood the demands on Carlos's time, with his career in the spotlight of the racing world when you decided to say yes to a date with him. Carlos was left with very less time away from all the glam, media and the track. Making it precious because of how rare it was.
You mostly accompanied him and let him drag you around to wherever he wanted once he had the break. So imagine your surprise when the only time you made some pretty important plans and he refused to tag alone.
"I can’t believe you’re saying no to this," you protested, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
“I’m not saying no to anything, Carina.” He kissed your knuckles to un-knot the strong fist you’ve made of them. “I’m just suggesting we do it some other time.”
"But this is the third time, Carlos!" You stood up, unable to contain your hurt and disappointment. “Sorry if meeting my parents is such a chore for you.”
“You’re putting words in my mouth now.” Carlos responded with a sigh, attempting to pull you into a hug, which you reluctantly accepted. “It's not about it being a chore. You know I'd do anything for you, Y/N."
"I do know that, but actions speak louder than words, Carlos. My family is important to me."
“I promise that I want to meet them. I do. It's just… the timing."
"I don't want promises, Carlos. I want actions. If you can't even make it to meet my parents, what does that say about our future?" You insisted with a heavy heart, putting distance between you two.
"You're blowing this out of proportion, Y/N." Carlos countered, frustration evident in his voice.
"Out of proportion? I just wanted you to meet my family, and you can't even do that!"
“Well, I don’t have time to waste on this! If you want to go, just go alone!” His words hung in the air, a sharp pang of hurt piercing through you.
You immediately took a step back and saw him do the same. Both of you standing there as the silence stretched, contemplating in silence what exactly the next course of action was going to be.
“Y/N, I…” He trailed off as you glared at your foot, trying to hold the tears in before one eventually slipped and fell down your cheek.
“Baby, no! Don’t cry!” He panicked about extending his hand, about to touch you but you flinched away and shook your head.
“Carlos, if you think I’ll just ignore what you said ten seconds ago then you’re very wrong.” You whispered, your voice thick and husky.
Guess you were the only one from you both expecting this relationship to last. A second later, you were clutching your bag in your hand and walking towards the exit, speaking up before Carlos could beg you once again to ‘sit and talk it out.’
“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice barely a whisper. “Thanks for letting me know that our time together was time wasted for you.”
You walked out with his heart in your pocket, your own splashed on the floor of your apartment.
Charles Leclerc
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Charles was the love of your life, the very time you saw him smile at you from across the room igniting a spark in you that shaped your future together.
He walked over to you with a pretty girl hanging onto his arm, leaving the impression that they were more than friends. Everyone around you was also convinced at the time that they were dating but Charles bluntly flirting with proved just how different the real life scenario was.
Pippa was just his ‘best friend,’ someone who throws side eyes at you every time you and your boyfriend are in close proximity to her. Despite nearly a year together, her hostility persisted, the woman was a different kind of vicious. Hell bent on draining your energy.
It was physically exhausting being around her with her catty sarcastic tone that Charles always failed to notice. It was just another one of those days and Charles dismissed your concerns as usual, leaving you frustrated.
This time it was pissing you off greatly.
"Doesn't she realize we're together?" You rolled your eyes.
Charles remained silent and that drew your brows together.
“Charles, does she not think we’re serious?”
“I don't think so. She's always been oblivious to these things.”
And honestly? That fucking hurt. It hurt to know that Charles noticed this but was still rather quick to defend her every time.
"But we've been together almost a year?”
"Baby, she just never pays attention.” His arm pulled you closer to his chest. “Or maybe she doesn't want to see it."
"Do you think she has feelings for you?”
There it was, the truth out in the open. As much as it made you want to die to say it out loud and acknowledge it, your body felt lighter while the comforting arm around your waist began to feel heavier.
"I don't know. Maybe?” Charles’ chest heaved with a deep sigh, "It's complicated?"
The heart beating in your chest stopped for a long second because of how unconcerned your boyfriend seemed right now. Was he seriously just going to accept that a person he has shared so much history with wants to steal him from you?
“It’s not that simple, darling. she's been a friend for years.”
“Yeah, well, friends don't act like that. She’s just what? Waiting for the right moment to swoop in and steal you away from me?”
Charles did not like it because the arm was moved away from you in a second and he was sitting a bit straighter now. He looked furious and ready to defend his best friend and all that was running through your head was how he would probably not do the same for you in front of her.
"That's enough, Y/N. You're being paranoid."
"Paranoid? Or realistic? Face it, Charles, you're so blind when it comes to her. It makes me feel so small compared to her!"
Charles, frustrated and defensive, ran a hand through his hair and shot back,"Don't flatter yourself thinking Pippa gives a damn about you or me."
Lando Norris
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No one could deny the magnetic pull Lando had on everyone around him. It was, after all, what drew you to him in the first place. You had your biases but he broke through them all with his shameless at worst and awkward at best flirting.
However, as you stood in a quiet corner to hide from the crowd, you couldn’t find it in yourself to sympathize with Lando. He had brought you to this glamorous social event, flashes of camera and expensive drinks overflowing all around you.
You were extremely excited to accompany your boyfriend especially since he had such an amazing season but throughout the evening, Lando was constantly pulled away by enthusiastic fans and demanding media, leaving you aside feeling like an accessory rather than his partner.
Standing in a quiet corner, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy as you watched other couples bask in each other's company. You didn’t even know where Lando was at this very second.
Then, suddenly, his arms enveloped you from behind, his lips pressing gently against your head. "I'm sorry, babe. Everyone here just wants a piece of me," he murmured, attempting to console you.
You sighed and tried to calm yourself so you wouldn't explode in front of everyone, "I understand, but I miss spending time with you."
"I promise, I'll make it up to you tonight." Lando winked, keeping the conversation light.
That was all he said before someone from your left approached him again and your safety haven spot under the stairs was crowded with journalists a second later. You rolled your eyes before walking away, with half a mind to grab a cab and leave.
It was on your way back home when your patience finally ran its course as you listened to your boyfriend go on and on about how much of a success the event was.
“Why did you even take me with you?” You interrupted, your tone tinged with hurt and watched as the smile on his face got replaced with a frown.
“What?”
“I mean… you barely clicked two pictures with me and then left me to fetch for myself? You didn’t even come stand with me for more than a minute?”
"Babe, I'm sorry, but this is part of the job."
"I get it, but it doesn't make it easier.” You felt your own body shudder because of how overwhelmed you felt. “You were there talking to everyone but me!”
Lando opened his mouth to say something but you weren’t done yet.
“They were all strangers to me and you didn’t even acknowledge this! I was standing there alone the whole time, watching others and wondering why my boyfriend wasn’t there for me!”
The weight of your words hung heavily in the air, and for a moment, there was silence. You stopped to take a breath and not start crying. Then, Lando spoke, his words struck like a knife to the heart.
“This isn’t… This isn’t about you. Why are you always making it about you?”
Your body froze after that and your mind went blank. You didn’t care that the tears were running out of your eyes or that apologies were falling from his mouth. His own eyes were welling up because he knew.
He knew what he said was unacceptable.
You were so zoned out that as soon as the car stopped, you got out of the car. Thankful to catch the glimpse of yellow among the traffic before you hailed a taxi, the distance between you and Lando growing with each passing moment.
He attempted to hold your arm, his own tears falling down his face. You just wanted to put your point across but with his reaction, you were certain you guys were done for.
“I guess I expected a little too much from you, Lando.”
With a heavy heart, you walked away, knowing that sometimes love wasn't enough to mend the fractures in a relationship.
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alwaysmoncheri · 6 months
Text
𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — JAMES POTTER!
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pairings ❧ james potter x reader
summary ❧ no one makes james potter feel the way that his girlfriend does and he definitely knows it
warnings ❧ female!reader, cheesy writing, lots of fluff, sunshine!reader, james is whipped for the reader, based on my girl, by the temptations, implications of wolfstar, pda, not proofread
word count ❧ 1.1k
additional notes ❧ my first james fic sort of blew up and i was feeling inspired to write another—thank you for all your support | i also have a longer version for this so let me know if you’re interested ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა
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You’re James’ sunshine, you’re his bundle of light and happiness on a cloudy day, and you’re all of his favorite things mixed into one beautiful girl. To James, nothing can ever compare to the way you make him feel. Every time you look in his direction with those captivating eyes that always sparkle with love—love that you constantly spread across the school like it’s your only goal in life—to make people feel loved, special, wanted—unlike so many—your contagious smile that makes him feel all giddy and causes his stomach to flutter with excitement.
Everything you do, everything you are, makes James feel like one of those special recipients of all the love you have stored in your overflowing heart. James feels like the luckiest guy in the world to have the privilege of holding you in his arms during the cold winter nights spent in his dormitory, the early spring mornings strolling through the flower meadow the two of you found in the outskirts of Hogwarts, the hot summer days spent in the backyard of the Potter residence, and the cool autumn evenings feeling the cool breeze blowing the fallen leaves past your feet.
Even now, you stroll through the doors to the common room and look so effortlessly breathtaking. The elegance you seem to carry with you to every room you enter makes James’ heart race because you’re his girl and no one else can take you away from him.
Yours and James’ friends always know when you’ve entered a room, not just because your presence is enough alone, but because James always seems to have an absolutely stunned expression dancing across his face, almost as if his heart has stopped beating—this time it leads the group to tease the love sick boy.
“What’s got you all smiles, Prongs?” Sirius asks curiously and with a teasing smile he playfully nudges his best friend’s shoulder, earning no reaction from James—who seems to be mesmerized, by your presence, “Is it that girl of yours, again?”
“Is that even a question?” Lily scoffs lightly and with a dramatic roll of her eyes she gazes past the small crowd of people also entering the common room in an attempt to spot your radiant figure, “Of course it’s (Y/n).”
“Let’s ask the lover boy,” Marlene suggests with a sly grin and points the book she's currently reading towards James, before calling over to him teasingly while tilting her head to one side, “Oh, lover boy?”
“Yeah?” James responds without tearing his gaze away from you and when your eyes finally meet he can’t help but let out a captivated sigh, his eyes screaming his absolute admiration for you.
“See, here she comes now," Lily smirks, gesturing in the direction of you, as you continue to make your way towards the group, who are casually sitting in their respective spots around the room—Lily and Mary are sitting together on the couch closest to the blazing, however warm fire, Remus and Marlene are reading on the couch across from them, Sirius is comfortably situated on the floor between Remus’ legs, and finally James is sprawled out on a lounge chair angled directly towards his lovely girlfriend—you. 
“Good morning, everyone.” You greet your friends with a loving smile, plop yourself down on James’ lap, and finally turn your long-craved attention toward your favorite boy, “Hey, Jamie.” You add sweetly and swiftly lean over to plant your soft, addicting lips upon his flushed cheek.
“Good morning, love.” James replies, adjusting his hands on your hips in order to pull your back flush against his chest—something you shamelessly lean into. As James wraps one of his arms around your waist and nervously fidgets with the hem of your shirt, you wrap your own arms around his shoulders, place your hands at the nape of his neck, and begin to twirl the ends of his curls (that need a trim, you notice) around your fingers—something you know he’s obsessed with.
You then glance around the room at your friends as they engage in each of their preferred activities on this peaceful and quiet evening. Your face transforms into a content smile, reminiscing on what your life might be like when you and your friends all leave Hogwarts. A day where all of your friends come over to the Potter resistance—you and James’ house, and spend the day around the fire, warm cups of tea within reach, silent communication being shared between you and James before the two of you sneak away and up the perfect wooden stairs to your bedroom, where laughter and secrets are shared under the sheets.
“Prongsy here hasn’t stopped smiling since you walked through that door.” Sirius smiles causally, leaning further back against Remus’ legs as the sandy-brown-haired boy nervously shifts in his chair and swiftly runs the hand that isn’t holding his book through his hair. Sirius’ comment is directed towards you, and you finally snap back into reality when you notice that knowing smirk plastered across Sirius’ face.
James lets out a dramatic groan while throwing his head back against the chair that the two of you continue to sit in. Your boyfriend’s reaction to Sirius’ constant teasing causes a quiet giggle to fall from your lips. The sound of your contagious laugh makes James’ stomach swoon with love and his face visibly lights up after lifting his head back up off of the chair. James can’t help but stare at you even when you’re sitting right in his arms. You look so sweet, radiating with love and warmth. At this moment, James can only imagine what those lips of yours might taste like. And that’s when he kisses you.
James can’t control himself and for valid reasons. You taste just the same as you always do—like honey, sweet as can be. It would be impossible for the bees not to be jealous of him. James could never get tired of kissing your lips and he’s not ashamed of it. If he’s going to spend the rest of his life with you then he’s always going to express his everlasting amount of love and affection for you.
The kiss catches you off guard, not expecting such passion and aggression in front of your friends, but you instinctively kiss James back. Your hands tangle through James’ hair while his grip on your hips and the waist tighten ever-so-slightly. This earns him a surprised squeak from you, and causes a boyish grin to form on James’ face as he kisses you.
“Get a room!” Sirius shouts jokingly from his spot on the floor which causes you and James to pull away with love sick grins consuming your expressions.
“You’re my girl.” James whispers into your ear and affectionately bumps his nose into the apple of your cheek, tickling your sensitive skin. A soft giggle bubbles into the air when James begins to pepper kisses all over your face.
“And I’ll always be your girl.”
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