#But i am COMITED now...

[artandsomethingcreated]

It isnt that i didnt see where people were coming from about long fic. The responses about not reading anything really long.

But today i was looking for a nice fanfic to read, and i found a long one that i thought may be interesting. I had to back out before geting to far because it was just... boring.

When ever that happens i have taken to forceing myself to read and figure out why i dont like it. And that brings me to why i think people balk at high word counts.

It was boring because it had to many words. To much was said with 5 or even more sentences when it could have been 2 or just left out completely.

I am aware what i have now on my story likely needs to be cut and combined in places.

That there are to many of the wrong words. Places where more descriptions are needed and places where characters get stuck in their own heads.

But despite being at almost 150k words i am actually trying to keep it short.

The problem is i am focusing on charicter development, and well there is so so much there and it is slowing me down lol.

Hopefully what i end up with will not be boring. I plan on asking my beta readers to mark where it drags so i can fix it. But i would rather not bore my friends and make them regret agreeing to this 🤣

[dreamsy990]

drew some of my fav ody designs! wasnt originally meant to be also replicating the styles but thats sort of just how my brain works. except i didnt copy the lineart styles of anyone here so its DEFINITELY a bit uncanny for a couple of these (LOOKING AT YOU QINNY IM SO SORRY) but whatever

the designs featured here (from left to right) belong to: me, @gigizetz, @neal-illustrator, @irunaki, @bigidiotenergytm, @qinnyanimation, and @foopsie-daisy

[evgar]

more gunslinger abigail my beloved 🫶

+ sadigail crumbs ofc (u guys why haven't i seen any drawings of abi braiding sadie's hair 😠)

[jasper-unofficial]

controversially, i didn't care much for the trio in 3wbf and only really liked miw. the heart of the show is in mae, ter, and phon to me. that's who i always come back to.

[zephyrnes]

talked all this shit abt giving mydei a massage but when is it MY turn. i need someone to step on my back. or jump on it tbh i’m lowkey in sm pain…… (╥﹏╥)

[catgirljaneway]

everytime i see something about tuvix i am filled with inhumane rage ngl

[offorestsongs]

why did i decide to spell Eliott's name in such a stupid way....

[vimbry-moved]

this wasn't a recent dream, but I don't think I ever posted about the one I had where they might be giants were playing an in-store concert at a bookshop/supermarket, which was somehow 2024 and 2004 at the same time.

I could hear them playing and even see the band a little whenever I craned my neck above the bookshelves and crowd, but no matter where I walked, I couldn't find my way through the maze of aisles to actually get to where they were.

[baekuras]

it’s always fun being creative until you work on like 5 things at once so none of them get finished but you have made like half a step of progress on all of them in the past few days

[youryanderedaddy]

Summary: Your sins catch up to you. After all you can't keep running forever. tw: female reader, bully!reader, gray!reader, obsession, insults, hinted jealousy, love/hate, dub-con, death threat

He's looking at you now. Truly looking at you - not averting his gaze, not hiding beneath glasses and layers upon layers of shame.

You in your soft, warm princess bed, all rosy and pink at your big age - and you look just like an angel, squeezed between the silk and the satin. Your hair is perfectly still, perfectly combed, perfectly light to the touch. You reek of vanilla and fondant and something tooth - rottingly sweet. He wonders if your skin alone tastes like honey.

He's looking at you now. At those big, angry eyes filled with fire and mockery - even now, when he's holding your life in his palms, all you can give back is a measly bark of a laugh.

Painful memories flood his broken psyche. Him on his knees, merely 13 years old, surrounded by older boys - all laughing, all kicking and screaming at him to stop crying; to stop being a pathetic loser. And you, towering above it all - as if you're so much better than those lowly human creatures. As if you weren't the one who made them do it, with a quick snap of your carefuly manicured, perfectly sharp nails.

He's looking at you and he wants to strangle you.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my room?" You shout, sweet feminine voice breaking into something twisted, high - pitched and ugly. You're completely immobilized, tied up tighter than a high - level criminal before the electric chair - and yet your mouth knows no rest from scorn and vile. "Do you know who my daddy is? He will fucking kill you." You hiss through venomous eyes, and he thinks, you really haven't changed at all - but he already knows that.

He already knows everything there is to know about you. You don't have a job - you've never had one, you simply leech off your parents' fortune. You don't have a boyfriend - you change men like tissues, growing bored after a week or two. You scream at servers and cashiers, you spill coffee over waiters when they take too long - and you throw away pretty green bills when things go sour. You've never gotten a ticket, despite countless drunken crashes. You drink too much gin. You smoke two packs a day, Golden Sherry, always. And you should look worse - much, much worse, for the sins you've comitted. But alas, you remain an angel - at least from the outside.

But he knows who you are.

"If you don't untie me at once, I am going to ruin your miserable little life, do you hear me, freak?!" You keep screaming manically, as if you're incapable of understanding the danger you're in - the fact that you're all alone with a man much stronger than you, who obviously hates your guts enough to break through your million - dollar security system through sheer force.

And he stops dead in his track, taken aback by the insult - freak. You used to love to call him that - any time you saw him in the hallway, when your lackeys were beating him up, when you drenched his only clean uniform in milk and whatever they served for lunch that day - to the point he could hear it in his dreams, in his nightmares. And that sound, that word, it never truly left.

He shakes his head, trying to banish the dread away. He is no longer that poor weak boy with an empty stomach and a broken heart - and he's killed men for less than what you did.

"You already did." He whispers, inhaling sharply. He can't let his emotions go just yet - even when his teeth itch to break into your skin, when his hands ache to wrap around that vulnerable, naked throat. "What?" You bite back, sleazy confusion written all over your small pretty face. God, he wants to smash your head against the concrete - mess it up for good, so you can never deceive again with those lips, those lashes, those cheeks. Nature is cruel, he realizes, adorning predators with the most luscious skins and the sharpest claws underneath, leaving those little bleating sheep to die in the trenches.

"You already ruined my life." He repeats slowly - carefuly, so your cruel, tiny brain can comprehend each word. You remain oblivious, pouty lips ajar - so he finally takes off his mask, sighing. Every inch of his body is begging to let go and tear you into pieces, but he can't. Not yet.

Your eyes widen.

"Daniell?" You gasp, chest tightening. "You, what happen-" Before you can finish the sentence, his palm connects to your cheek with a loud clap, but the pain doesn't register - it's his wet, burning gaze that truly sinks in the reality of your situation.

"Do not," The man shrills, nostrils flaring like a wild beast's. "say that name." He's taken a step closer to you, chest heaving up and down rapidly. "He died years ago. You killed him." He slowly raises your head with a single finger - and you try to look away, but his eyes keep you pinned in place. "W-what do you want from me?" You whimper, lower lip shaking in terror.

He wants to enjoy your fear, wants to slurp it up like air, to cling to it like a lifeboat, he wants to derive pleasure from it - but even this small comfort, this solace, is painfully ripped from him as he realises he's too far gone, too broken. He doesn't want to see you scared - he wants to see you dead. Only then can he sleep again, only then can he be whole.

"I want nothing from you." He smiles, a crooked, hollow smile - it somehow makes you feel even more uneasy. "What could you possibly give me? You're just an empty doll." Daniel says to himself, reaching over for his knife. Cold steel folder, heavy metal, French - a very beautiful blade indeed, and all for you. All eight inches. "Still, I need you gone." He whispers, looking at his own reflection. He looks nothing like his past self; he's a giant, a cyclone, all rough edges and pure muscle. He could absolutely destroy you - beat you red and blue, and leave you deformed, nailed to a wheelchair with thousand needles in you just to stay alive.

He thinks, that would be a fitting punishment for a wicked bitch like you. Death feels too lenient, like an easy escape. If he takes your beauty, your youth, you'd be ruined forever, gone for. You'd be unrecognizable to your parents, your friends - and the halo protecting you would shatter, finally. But he can't bring himself to do it - and it burns him from the inside.

"Please don't kill me." You plead softly, black mascara running down your cheeks through the pearly tears. They stick to your wet lashes like sparkling jewels, and you try to lean towards him, offering a defeated pose. "I am so sorry, Daniel-“ You keep begging, but he cuts you off with another slap so sudden your head bounces back. Now - now you're truly shaking.

"I just told you," The man spits out each word like it's poison, grabbing your hair into a fistful. He pulls at it until you're arching your back, neck pressed to his lips. "not to say that name. You don't fucking deserve to even feel it on your venomous tongue." He whispers in your ear, pulling even harder. "Say it again and I swear I'll cut it off. I'm sure I will do everyone a favour if I finally get you to shut the fuck up for once in your life." He continues, voice as sinister as can be. You tremble all over, a fresh wave of tears tightening your throat.

"And stop fucking crying. Don't think for a second that I believe those big crocodile tears of yours." Daniel shakes you up all over before finally shoving you backwards. You lose your balance, falling on your back. "God, you're pathetic. This will be even easier than I thought."

He picks his knife again, crawling towards you, and you instinctively hug your knees together, trying to protect your stomach and chest. He’s walking slowly, dragging the moment as much as possible before finally kneeling before you. As you wince, expecting insufferable, scorching pain, you feel his gloved finger slowly stroke your cheek.

“Tsk, it’s such a waste.” He mumbles quietly, getting a hold of himself. You blink through heavy lashes, barely lifting your chin, his mood too unpredictable to bet on. “Your skin is so soft…” He starts off, still grazing your side with his cold touch - your heart sinks to your knees. “And that face…” He groans, conflicted. On one hand, he wants nothing more than to jam the sharp end of the dagger deep into your breast - to twist it more and more until it probes a bone. He wants to go down nobly, as a hero; as the only one who didn’t give into your deceit, your curse. On the other hand, you’re all alone now. You’re tied up. You’re squirming on the floor like a filthy worm stuck to a pin needle - and for the first time, you’re all his.

And he’s never had anything of his own. Not friends, not a family and certainly not love. Hell, even his adoptive parents abandoned him the moment the government checks froze up. So maybe, just maybe, he deserves this for once.

“Spread your legs.” The man commands hoarsely, pushing you down with one hand as the other reaches to unbutton your flimsy white shirt. Your cruel little eyes widen in fear, and he shudders at the sight of you oh-so-defenceless. You used to be his biggest nightmare, the very scorching bane of his existence, but here in his arms, trembling and afraid, you're just a frail, fragile little girl. You haven't changed - you haven't become kinder, better, stronger. You're still a demon under all that makeup, under the fake smile and the bougie ten - carat laugh, and he's a hero. And he will take what he fucking wants, what he deserves, because he's the hero of this story and you're just a pesky little nighmare that's been stuck at the back of his brain for far too long.

"L-let me help..." You mumble through tired, shaky breath and reach to pull down your panties, little hand trembling at the pink lacy elastic band on top. "I don't need your fucking help to rape you." The intruder grunts with fury, but lets you continue with your pitiful attempts.

"God, how easy is it for you to just lay down and take it? Fucking whore." He snarls, fists tightening around your hips with little passion, and when you gain the courage to look down, his own body is equally disinterested at the promise of brutal, emotionless intimacy. It's his brain, his wounded pride, that keeps pushing. "Makes me wonder how many have had you... Aren't you even going to pretend to fight back?" His voice turns crazed, unstable - and he tears your underwear apart, throwing it across the floor. "I am going to violate you, and you are just going to allow it?"

Your breath stills completely, so silent you can hear a needle fall.

"What's the point?" Your forehead creases slightly, voice barely above a whisper. Your breasts are moving up and down rhytmically, but your heart is beating rapidly - and yet, you can't find the strength to keep fighting. "I always had a feeling you'd come back for me, Daniel." You sigh deeply, your naked insides staring at you from below. "Just get it over with and let me sleep in peace once again." You pronounce slowly, spreading your legs just a bit further as you look to the side - hoping it will end quicker just like all those other times in the past. Can't be so different, you think. It's not like the boys in the club or any of your hundred one-week boyfriends were ever sweet or gentle, so.

But Daniel doesn't touch you, doesn't reach in to stroke the inviting skin. He looks at you once again, so intensely he might eat you whole with his eyes, and then he laughs. And again and again and again - then he grabs your chin, nails sinking in. Until they draw blood.

"You really think this," He gestures to your shivering body with disgust, twisting your chin so you look at him as he's looking at you. "Would change anything? That it will make me forget, that it will make me forgive?" His eyes darken and he squeezes you more, harder, hoping you'll vanish like the nightmares, like your face, like your body, like your very existence will be squished between his rough grubby fingers, and perish. "Don't make me laugh." He spits out, letting go of you with such force you bounce back down.

"Then why come here at all?" Your voice is back full - force, bolder, stronger, reassured that he too, just like you, lacks the strength for action. That he's all bark and no bite - same as you. That you're still so similar, so synced, it makes you hate him once again.

"Because I hate you." The man suddenly screams, pinning you down with two heavy hands on your wrists. "Because you broke me down and made me weak," He eyes you with savagery so severe your cheeks flush. "And even now you make my heart ache. Looking at you, it's like you never left. It's like you're still in my brain, breaking me further."

Now it's your turn to laugh - a short, mocking laugh. Just like before.

"So do it. Fuck me." You quickly wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him in while he's still distracted, fully convinced you're out of danger now. Fully convinced you can talk your way out. "Who knows, maybe being inside me will help you forget." You whisper into his ear, pressing your naked breasts against his strong arm, letting him feel your warmth. The only part still human about you, perhaps.

"Or maybe," You let your lips linger over his left cheekbone, lipgloss leaving a rosy stain. "You'll truly go off - the rail. Maybe you'll hear me when you're all alone." Your hand strokes his thigh - but the man himself is frozen. "Maybe you'll see me in the dark. Maybe my name will sink into your heart until it pierces whatever's left of that rotten mess." Your nails graze his chest. "Maybe you'll fall in love with me, tragically, and never learn peace. So why try fate, hmm?"

Daniel screams - choked, terrified as if he has seen a monster, but all he sees is you. You in your beautiful, cruel, absolute glory, your madness sucks him in once again.

"Get out of my head!" He yells, drawing his knife close to his chest before pointing it to your neck. His hand shakes, hesitant, but unrelenting. "I should have done this from the start - you are nothing, but a parasite."

"Go on then, do it. Avenge your pain. Show me just how strong you've become." You whimper, pained as the very edge grazes your soft skin - playing the game to the best of your abilities. "Kill me, if you must. But just know, whether in life or death," You grab his hand, directing the dagger towards your heart. "You will never have me."

The knife falls down with a loud thump, bursting dust all over the floor. And then he kisses you, with a fatal ferocity, he kisses you - as if to prove you wrong, as if to prove you right, he kisses you with teeth and claws all over your body, sticky and sick, and yet he kisses you for as long as he can hold his breath. Your lungs heave slowly - trying to calm your breathing.

And you do nothing to stop it.

[rubysunnday]

but who could stay?

a/n: i'm erasing colin's 'lover boy' atttidue (or however you describe it) because it was the least colin thing i've seen imo. like, my man travels bc he doesn't want to be the ogling of the ton... anyways

summary: Every time Colin Bridgerton returned from travelling the world, there was always an urge inside him to run away again as soon as he could. There was only one woman who could make him stay. Y/N Barrett waited for Colin, but he never stayed long enough for her to tell him her feelings. Now she is engaged and about to enter a loveless marriage arranged by her parents. All she wants is for Colin to stay in London long enough to realise the truth of their relationship.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

masterlist | tip jar

Every year, after the debutantes had walked in front of the queen, there was a garden party. Open to everyone, it gave the debutantes an opportunity to further make their mark on the ton as well as allowing other attendees to catch up with friends after a few months away from London.

Colin had been away for longer than just a few months. As soon as Anthony had married Kate, he had been on the first ship over to France.

It wasn't that he didn't like London - he did. Nothing would ever compare to his home city - the gas lamps in the November fog, the bright blue skies after days of endless rain.

Yet, he never felt at peace in London. There was always an urge inside him to up and leave. To travel as far away as he could and not stop until he fell off the edge of the world.

Perhaps it was fear of comitting to a life in one place. Perhaps he was just trying to escape the future that had been planned out for him since he was born.

Perhaps, he had yet to find a reason to stay.

Now that he was back in town, the urge to leave had resurfaced once again. Everywhere he looked, women were staring at him, debutantes were waving and gaving him coy smiles.

Colin awkwardly smiled back and then promptly turned around. He always felt uncomfortable when the attention suddenly became solely on him. He wasn't entirely sure why - he liked women and he liked flirting - but when every woman in the ton came at him at once, it felt predatory.

He knew they were only interested in him for his money (or what he had left of it) and his name. None were interested in Colin the Explorer or Colin the Writer.

Except one.

"Colin!!" Y/N Barrett exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as he walked toward her. "You are back at last!" She reached up and wrapped her arms around Colin's neck, pulling him in for a tight but quick hug. "You could have told me!"

"Apologies," Colin said, smiling at her as she stepped back. "I only just made it back in time for Francesca's debut."

Y/N's gloved hand trailed down his arm. "I am glad you are back," she told him, squeezing his hand once more before letting go. "It has been dull without you."

"Anything exciting happen whilst I was gone?" Colin asked, offering his arm to Y/N - a silent invitation to promenade around the gardens.

"Well, Alice Carey got married to Lord Carlson and then promptly gave birth to a son about four months later." Y/N raised her eyebrows at him. "Easy math there."

"Indeed," Colin muttered. "Has anyone called her bluff yet?"

Y/N shook her head. "No, she has been 'unwell' the last few months and has yet to reappear amongst the ton." She tilted her head to Colin and lowered her voice, "but rumour says she is pregnant yet again... with another man's baby."

"Has Lady Whistledown written of these rumours?"

"You and I both know she will not," Y/N replied with a quick roll of her eyes. "Not only had she not been seen since last season, she has changed her column entirely and now writes exclusively in support of the debutantes! I do not understand how you can go from writting rumours and scandal and causing the public downfall of several well known figures to... well, promoting other women!"

"Perhaps she has had a change of heart," Colin suggested.

"Leopards rarely change their spots, mon ami," Y/N said softly. "Anyway, enough about scandal and rumour," she extracted her arm from his and turned to face him, "how are you?"

Colin stopped walking. He looked at her, her gentle smile, her bright eyes. "I am... okay."

"Just okay?" Y/N asked, her brow furrowing slightly.

"I want to leave again," Colin admitted quietly. "Already, women are staring at me and eyeing me up as if I am their dinner. It makes me incredibly uncomfortable, to be honest. I know that all they want is Colin Bridgerton and not just Colin."

Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile. "Does it help that I am only interested in Colin?"

Colin found his lips curving up into a smile. "It does," he told her, "more than I can say. Which reminds me."

He reached a hand into the pocket of his coat - a coat that Hyacinth had kindly nicknamed his 'pirate coat' - and pulled out a dark velvet bag pulled taught by a silver tassel. Colin held it out to Y/N and she took it with her lilac gloved hands.

"You bought me a present?" Y/N exclaimed, holding the bag as if it was glass.

"I did not want you to feel left out," Colin said, his smile widening as Y/N stared in awe at the bag.

"Colin, it's beautiful!"

"Oh, the bag isn't the gift," Colin said quickly. "The gift is inside the bag."

Y/N's cheeks burnt with embarrassment. "Oh, yes, of course."

She carefully pulled open the bag and turned it upside down, tipping whatever was inside into the palm of her hand. Out tumbled a pair of silver embroidery scissors, engraved to look like a bird.

"Oh, Colin, they're gorgeous," Y/N whispered. "Where did you find them?"

Colin's smile grew. "A shop in Spain. They had other types but... well, they were different."

He had to confess, he was utterly delighted at her reaction. He knew Y/N loved her embroidery - she had endless baskets of thread and material and often sat in the park working on her current project. For his birthday, Y/N had gifted him a hand embroidered waistcoat featuring different birds and flowers from across the globe. Colin had taken it with him on his travels, wearing it as often as he could.

So, when he had seen the little embroidery scissors in the store, he knew he head to buy them. He had carried them around for six months and now, finally, they were in her hands.

"I have needed new scissors for a while," Y/N told him, her eyes still focused on the scissors. She gently turned them over in her hand, the metal glinting in the sunlight. "Thank you, Colin."

A voice interrupted the moment, carrying across the garden. "Y/N, my love."

Y/N looked over her shoulder, giving the man who had called her name a smile.

"Who is that?" Colin asked, looking at the man - who was signifcantly older than Y/N.

Y/N sighed as she turned back to face him. "Mr Catesby. The man I am courting," she told him softly. "Mama set us up. I have been out for three years and she expected me to be married in year one and having a baby by year three."

She was trying to smile but Colin could see that it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Do you love him?"

"I do not think love is possible," Y/N told him, glancing over her shoulder again. She turned back to Colin. "Friendship, perhaps but never love."

Silence fell around them for a moment. All Colin wanted to do was reach out his hand and hold hers. But he knew he couldn't. This was how it would be from now on - always near his side but just out of reach.

"I should go," Y/N said softly. "Thank you, again, for these. I will cherish them, I promise."

Y/N turned around and, with one last glance over her shoulder at Colin, walked toward Catesby and her future with him.

Colin couldn't look away. He knew he should because, really, what was staring going to do.

Y/N didn't look happy or sad as she stood next to Catesby, putting her arm through his. Whilst she smiled and laughed, none of it reached her eyes. She was pretending and Colin was the only one who could tell.

"You have to look away at some point," Francesca said softly, appearing at his side.

Colin swallowed heavily. "I know."

Francesca reached down and held his hand gently. "Why won't you?"

"I don't know," he eventually replied, forcing himself to look away and at his younger sister. He forced himself to grin at her. "Come along, I'm hungry."

Days turned into weeks and soon Colin hadn't spoken to Y/N for over a fortnight. He had seen her across the room at parties and balls, always at the side of Catesby.

Even though she wasn't happy, she still looked beautiful. Her dresses shimmered in the candlelight and when she did laugh, Colin could just picture her smile along with it.

Ever since he had found out she was being courted, Colin had retreated into himself. He spent long hours in his study, writing and drawing and wondering about what could have been.

His heart broke that little bit more the night of his mother's ball when Catesby announced their engagement. Y/N had smiled, sparkling under the lights once more in a dark blue gown and matching silk gloves. But Colin knew better. He could see how tense she was, how loosely she held Catesby's hand in hers - the way her eyes kept straying over to him.

Benedict and Anthony flocked him as they approached to give their congratulations. They bowed together and Colin was grateful that his brother's did all of the talking - speaking loud enough and quick enough so that neither Catesby nor Y/N's parents noticed Colin's silence.

Y/N did, though. She held his gaze the entire time and there was so much sadness within it, so much regret, that Colin nearly ripped her from Catesby's grip and pulled her to his side, threatening the man with a duel if he dared come closer.

Instead, he maintained his silence, giving a brief bow when they were finally dismissed. Colin refused to look back, focusing his gaze on the table of lemonade and sweet treats jutting out from the far wall.

"Colin, are you alright?" Benedict asked, raising his eyebrows slightly at his silent brother.

"Yes, why would I not be?" Colin said, picking up a glass of lemonade from the table.

"You are being unusually sullen and silent," Benedict replied.

Colin turned around to face his brother. HIs gaze flittered past him and over to Y/N. "Nothing's the matter."

Benedict caught Colin's wayward gaze and turned his head. His own gaze softened a little as he turned back to his brother. "It isn't too late," he said quietly.

Colin laughed humourlessly. "Really? She is an engaged woman, Benedict."

"Were you even around last season?" Benedict raised his eyebrows. "Anthony almost married someone else entirely - he got as far as the altar, Colin."

"That was different?"

"How so?"

Colin let out a frustrated sigh. "Because it just was. Who is to say Y/N would even be interested in my hand?"

"Who's to say she wouldn't?" Benedict looked at his brother. "Answer me this. Every time you come home, you immediately have the urge to flee again. Do you still have that urge when you're with Y/N?"

The silence that followed answered Benedict's question perfectly, Colin knew that. He eyed his brother. "I cannot do that to her, Benedict. I cannot."

"Well," Benedict sighed, "you are a better man than me, brother." He squeezed Colin's shoulder and turned to go, leaving him alone by the refreshment table.

Colin looked over at Y/N again. She had moved and was now walking onto the dance floor, hand in Catesby's. It hurt him more than he was prepared to admit. Yet, it would be so easy to walk over to her and take her hand from his - to confess all his feelings in a flurry of words and doe-eyed expressions. But the scandal that would cause - the ramfication's that could have on Y/N... Colin couldn't do that to her.

It would also be easy to simply walk away, leave the country and pretend he had never met her. Colin knew that nothing he did would ever mean he could forget her. He thought about her everywhere he went, from the churches of Florence to the waters of Athens.

Colin groaned quietly. He tilted his head back and swallowed the rest of the lemonade in a big gulp, wincing at the bitter taste. He set the cup down on the table and stepped away from the wall.

Weaving through the crowds, he spotted his eldest brother standing by the open french doors, Kate by his side. Colin heistated for a second, not wanting to darken Anthony's door with his issues. But the last time he had struggled with issues of the heart, he had given him some startlingly clear advice and he needed that again.

"Colin!" Kate exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as he approached. She pulled her arm from Anthony's and hugged Colin tightly.

Colin squeezed her back as hard as he dared, knowing Anthony was watching his every move like an over-protective swan. "How are you?" He asked, reluctantly letting go.

Kate puffed out her cheeks, hand straying to her stomach. "Coping," she replied. "He, however," she nodded at Anthony, "is not."

"I am allowed to be stressed," Anthony muttered, hand resting against Kate's waist. "It is very overwhelming, but exciting," he added, noting his wife's worried look.

Colin instantly felt guilty. He knew Anthony was overwhelmed. Trying to run the household, keep an eye on Francesca and Eloise all whilst being concerned for his wife and unborn child was more than enough trouble.

"What's wrong?" Anthony asked, noting Colin's distant gaze.

"Oh, nothing," Colin told him with a shake of his head. "Sorry, I should -"

Kate reached out and grabbed his hand by the wrist, pulling him back to them. "Colin, stop." She gave him a gentle smile, cupping the side of his cheek with one hand. "Come, let's go for a walk."

Kate put her arm through Colin's and let him lead her out into the gardens of Bridgerton House. It was still daylight, though the sun had descended. A few couples stood around the grass and patio but it was otherwise quiet.

"I assume this is about Y/N," Kate said, pulling her purple silk shawl tighter around her arms.

Colin nodded, leaning against the stone balustrade. He crossed his arms, a heavy sigh escaping him. "I do not know what to do. I should have stayed, made my intentions clear but I did not and now... now I do not know."

Kate pushed herself up and onto the balustrade, sitting on top of it, her feet dangling down. "What is your heart telling you to do?"

"To steal her away from him and marry her tonight," Colin admitted. "But I cannot do that."

"Why not?"

"Because she is engaged. I cannot bring that scandal to her, Kate, I just..." Colin closed his eyes. "What if she does not return my feelings and I ruin her one chance at marriage?"

"But what if she does?" Kate said softly. "What if she does return those feelings and she spends the rest of her life with you rather than a man she does not love?"

Colin looked at her. "Can I take that risk?"

"Anthony and I were plagued by scandal last year," Kate said quietly, hand resting on her slightly swollen stomach. "Things should never have gone as far as they did but it did not stop us from finding our true happiness. If you want her, Colin, then go and get her. She is right there, waiting."

Five minutes later, Colin was back inside the house, searching everywhere for any sign of Y/N.

He still wasn't sure if he had the courage to tell Y/N the truth. Whilst he knew she wasn't happy, happiness was a minor issue when it came to marriage. The status and money Catesby would give her was more than Colin could ever hope to offer in a lifetime.

But he could give her happiness and he could give her love. Surely, that was worth something?

Yet, as he stood against the landing wall, watching Kate and Anthony waltz together, he knew what he had to do.

Y/N stood by herself, near the table laden with food. Colin spotted her as soon as he walked down the stairs. She wore a dark green gown, one that matched his jacket perfectly.

He tried to approach her first thing but his mother grabbed his arm and whisked him off in the opposite direction, gabbling at him about eligible women and debutantes and flowers.

Y/N had noticed Colin as soon as he'd walked in the room. His jacket matched her dress and all she wanted to do was approach him and ask him to take her far away from here.

She was overwhelmed with wedding preparations and plans for her to move to Catesby's estate in Dorset. Her mother had not allowed her a moment's peace. Sleep refused to come at night and Y/N lay awake, regret and panic growing inside her as the date of her wedding grew ever closer.

The engagement had been a shock. Y/N herself had not actually spoken the word 'yes' aloud, her mother had done that for her. She had blindly followed along, allowing Catesby to place the ring on her finger and brag to his friends that he would soon be a father.

A father. Never mind a husband or a man in love. Just a father.

Because, whilst he was not a bad man, all Catesby wanted was a son to continue his line. That was all Y/N was to him, all this relationship was to him - making an heir.

Y/N had known this marriage would never be one built on love. But a foolish part of her had hoped that, maybe, they would find love together. Seeing Catesby now, flirting with other women and bragging to his friends, she knew that there would never be love.

She plastered a smile to her face as yet another person approached her to congrulate her on her engagement. Exhaustion was beginning to pull at her body, the sleepless nights and endless trips to the modiste finally catching up with her.

"You could at least try and look happy," her mother muttered, suddenly appearing beside her.

Y/N sighed softly, blinking the pull of sleep away. "Sorry."

"Honestly, when was the last time you slept, you look dreadful."

Thank you, mother Y/N thought, trying not to roll her eyes.

"I need you to look beautiful for this wedding," her mother continued, "there is a lot riding on this marriage for this family. Do not mess it up. Ah, Lady Cowper!" Y/N's mother crowed, rushing over to greet her friend.

Y/N needed to leave. She glanced around the room, checking that everyone was preoccupied and then made a swift dart for the corridor running behind the stairs. The room had been warm when she'd walked in but it had only gotten hotter in the hours since. Her head was aching, her heart was pounding and her hands would not stop shaking.

She didn't know what had come over her. There was no reason for her to be acting like this - all she was doing was getting married. But there were so many things wrong with the marriage and with Catesby and with her mother's obsession of wanting a grandchild that Y/N could not go through with it.

The corridor was quiet and signifcantly cooler than the ballroom. Y/N leant her back against the wall and took a deep breath in, desperate to calm herself down and reinstate her happy facade.

"Y/N."

Of course, Y/N thought, turning her head and watching Colin Bridgerton approach her. Of course he appears now.

"Colin, I do not -"

"I have to talk to you," Colin said firmly, coming to an abrupt stop at her side. "Please."

Y/N closed her eyes. She felt sick. The pounding in her head was only getting worse and she couldn't remember the last time she had eaten anything.

"Please, Y/N, I beg -"

"Yes, alright!" Y/N exclaimed, silencing Colin. "Come with me."

She led him back up the stairs - not an abnormal sight since many guests had seeked solace in the front room of Bridgerton house - and down the corridor into an empty room.

"Colin, whatever you want to say to me, please make it quick," Y/N told him, pushing him into the room and pulling the door to. "I cannot disappear from my own engagement party for long."

"You do not love him."

Y/N frowned at Colin. "I told you this earlier -"

"Just... say it again."

"No, I do not love him," Y/N told him, her voice soft. "But that does not mean I can walk away from this marriage."

"What if you had someone else to walk to?" Colin asked, moving toward her.

Y/N stared at him. "Colin, what do you... why..."

"The reason I travel, Y/N, is because I have never felt at home anywhere," Colin said. He took a deep breath in, steeling his nerves and forcing himself to not back down. "Every time I came back, I would have the urge to run away again until I reached the edge of the world. But each time I came back and I saw you, I suddenly felt as if I finall had a reason to stay."

Y/N felt as if all her air had been stolen from her. She stared at Colin - that was all she could do. Here he was, confessing his heart to her and all she could think about was how angry her mother would be, how much scandal it would cause and also how much the room was beginning to spin.

"I could not let you go off into this marriage without giving you a choice," Colin continued, moving a step closer. "I love you, Y/N, I have done for a long time. I wish that I had not spent so long away because maybe things could have gone differently. Perhaps this would be our engagement ball instead. Perhaps it still can be.

"I know that this is asking a lot of you and I know that with this choice scandal will come. But I will stand by you through it all, Y/N. No matter what the ton say, no matter what they do, I will not leave your side. You deserve to be happy and you deserve the right for this to be your decision."

Y/N looked at Colin. Hope was clear as day in his eyes. She had wanted this confession from him for so long and here it was. The circumstances were awful and scandal was calling and her parents would hate her and the ton would give her the look they reserved only for the worse offenders and -

"Y/N? Are you alright?" Colin asked, concern replacing the hope in his eyes. Her skin had lost colour dramatically quick and she was beginning to sway.

Y/N swallowed, nausea growing. She blinked, looking past Colin and at the window. No, that too was spinning.

"Is the room spinning for you?" Y/N asked, her voice quiet.

Colin frowned. "No. Is it for you?"

"A little," Y/N admitted. "I think I might need a moment."

She took a step forward but the room tilted dramatically to the side and hazy black spots filled her vision. Y/N mentally braced herself to hit the carpeted floor and for her body to ache but hands wrapped around her waist, guiding down.

Colin knelt on the floor, resting Y/N's back against his chest. He was never great when it came to dealing with poorly people - his siblings could attest to that. He himself was a terrible patient, incapable of waiting until he was better and always pushing himself before he was ready.

But this was Y/N - his Y/N. Her skin was clammy and lacking colour and her hand was shaking as she tried to grip his. And he had no idea what to do.

They couldn't simply stay in here, someone else might walk in and then there would be a whole other scandal.

Then, an idea came into Colin's head. There was one place he knew no one would stray into. One place that would shield them for just a little longer.

"Come on," Colin whispered. "I've got you."

He put one arm around her shoulders and slipped his other under her legs, lifting her up into his arms. With one foot, he nudged open the door. The upstairs corridor was quiet. Colin snuck out, keeping his footfall as light as he possibly could.

His bedroom wasn't far away. In fact, it was only three doors down the corridor. As he pushed open the door, Colin thanked his past self for forgetting to close the door properly.

It was cooler inside than it was anywhere else in the house. His windows were open, the net curtains blowing gently in the summer breeze. A small fire crackled in the hearth, giving off enough light to chase away the darkness.

With as much care as he could, Colin lay Y/N down on his bed, laying her head on his pillow. He absently brushed his fingers along her cheek as he straightened and her eyes slowly opened, looking up at him.

"Has the room stopped spinning yet?" Colin asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand resting against her leg.

Y/N hummed softly. "Partly," she told him. "I still feel awful."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"I do not remember," Y/n replied. At Colin's raised eyebrows, Y/N let out a tired sigh. "Mama has kept me so busy and I have hardly slept these last few weeks. Oh, Colin" she said, her head finallycatching up with what had just happened, "I can only apologise for -"

"Do not be silly," Colin told her, reaching up and taking her hand in his. "Our bodies can only handle so much."

"But fainting? That is just... mortifiying!"

Colin chuckled. "When I was in Spain, I fainted in the middle of dinner with a very important noble because I had spent too long in the sun and not looked after myself. My face was bright pink and sun burnt and I felt awful for days after." He shook his head, laughing softly. Colin squeezed her hand. "What I am saying is that we all forget to look after ourselves sometimes. You have a better reason than me, however."

Y/N pushed herself up, letting Colin pull her forward until she was sat cross legged on the bed. He kept a steady hand on her upper arm until she gave him a reassuring smile, confirming that she wasn't about to spontaneously collapse again.

"If this engagement is making you this unwell," Colin said quietly, "is it worth it?"

Y/N sighed softly. She rubbed the pad of her thumb back and forth across Colin's knuckles. "No, it is not."

"Then what is holding you back?" Colin asked. He leant his head forward, seeking her gaze. "Tell me."

"I am scared," Y/N admitted with a small shrug, looking down at the bed. "I am scared of the consequences that will come with calling off this engagement."

Colin gently tilted her chin up until she was looking at him. "What else? Because there is something else, I can tell."

Y/N swallowed heavily. She closed her eyes for a moment. "My mother is determined to make this work," she said softly, opening her eyes again. "She keeps reminding me about how much is riding on this marriage, the things it will do to our family. I am terrified of her reaction if I do not go through with it. What if my family disown me? That will be an even bigger scandal than calling off the engagement!"

"What if she does not?" Colin suggested. "What if everything falls into place?"

Y/N shook her head. Her eyes were glistening with tears as she looekd at Colin. "But what if it doesn't?" She asked quietly, her voice almost lost to the night air.

"Then I will stand by your side no matter what," Colin replied, taking both her hands in his. He held them as if they were the most precious things in the world - because they were. "No matter what happens, you will always have me and you will always have my family, I promise you."

Uncertainty still lingered in Y/N's eyes. Colin knew he was asking much of her but she deserved a happy, loving marriage with someone who loved her. She desered to have a choice.

"You deserve to be happy, Y/N," Colin said softly. "Do not ever think otherwise."

"You promise to stay?" Y/N asked, her voice quiet and small. She looked at him. "Because, every time I thought I was ready to tell you I loved you, you disappeared, Colin. Then, I wouldn't see you for months and... I cannot do this if you are going to leave me again the moment we are married."

Colin leant forward and pressed a kiss to her forehad, his right hand holding the back of her neck. "I promise," he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers, "to never leave you again. Together until the end of our days."

Y/N smiled at that, relaxing into Colin's hold. "Okay," she said, her voice certain for the first time all night. "Are you going to ask me, then?"

Colin released her and stood up from the bed. He moved over to his desk and pulled out a drawer, rumaging through it until he found what he was looking for.

"I picked it up in Florence," Colin said, coming back over to the bed. "Because I had decided that when I got back, I would take your hand as mine. I thought for a moment I would never get to do this but..."

He trailed off, looking up from the ring box. Y/N was still sat on his bed, her smile slowly growing. Colin clicked open the lid and knelt down on one knee, extending the box out to her.

"I know I left and for that I am deeply sorry," he said quietly. "It took me this long to realise that you were my reason to stay. So, Y/N Barrett, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

Y/N nodded, her smile reaching her eyes and crinkling the corners. "Yes," she whispered, holding out her left hand, "of course I will."

Colin pulled the golden band out, the moonstone set in the centre catching the light of the fire. He slipped it onto her finger, pleasantly surprised to discover that it fit perfectly.

"Perfect fit," Y/N said, holding her hand up. She looked back at him. "It is as if it knew."

Colin grinned. He took her hand in his, thumb trailing over the ring. "Perhaps it did."

[lanalosty0uu]

⋆.˚ chapter i: ahoy! ᝰ.ᐟ

🕰️ BACK TO THE FUTURE 🕰️

warning: slight cussing, time travel confusion.

main masterlist | general masterlist

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

The next day you wake up, you felt weird textures coming up to your nose. It felt like… dust. You woke yourself up by sneezing hard, first sneeze of the day. What else felt off? It was your room that was being quiet different… Scratch that, it was completely different from when you slept on last night. The room that Mrs. Byers made you sleep in for the rest of your exchange days, the once nice purple room with soft bed, now turned into a horrifying, messy, and filled with dust.

You unlocked your phone to look for any notifications

9.13 P.M. Friday, 27th June 2025 No new notifications

P.M? But the sun is literally shining outside? And Friday is yesterday... Today's supposed to be Saturday? Things are starting to feel off, so you stood up and went out of the house.

The once beautiful house seems to be... Abandoned, now. All glass are falling out of it's place, boards covering some of the window and doors. It looks like there's no one ever lived on this place. You kept looking around in confusion as you went out of the house, coughing like a sick maniac.

"What the hell?"

You started walking down the neigborhood, passing all these big houses along the way. This still looks like Hawkins, though... But, something feels different. Seeing all the people dress weirdly like they're in some kind of cosplay event.

As you kept walking, the town starts to get crowded. Looking at these people give you the creeps, but what actually gives you the chills are the fact that lots of people stare at you as you walk. You don't feel like you're dressing weird, you feel normal. Black T-shirt, baggy jeans, and red converse, with a dark red flannel, yet these people just can't take their eyes off your, like you just comitted some murder.

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✧˖°.

You saw a building in front of you.

STARCOURT MALL

A neon sign says above the mall's entrance. The neon signs was already lit up even though it was still... Probably like 10 or 11 A.M? You don't really know what time is it now, since the clock on your phone basically stopped at 9 at night.

The whole vibe of the mall felt off. It’s like… you’re in the backrooms… Might as well watch too much TikTok videos, you thought. But, you were actually convincing yourself that al this doesn’t seem right. It felt like a dream. Well, at least your phone’s clock stopping is a sign that you’re dreaming, it doesn’t make any sense, right?

The mall was filled with people and shoppers of all ages, it was like the mall was just opened a couple of days ago. You really want to ask the people here about where you are and why do these people dress weirdly.

scratch that.

You only want to ask about where you are right now. Even though this whole places does look like Hawkins, but it doesn’t feel like Hawkins. Sadly, your urge to ask the people around you isn’t strong enough, compared by how these people look like they’re enjoying their time at the mall. You don’t wanna be some party pooper who just ask random people a nonsense question and ruin their mood. Until finally, you found a not-so-busy ice cream store.

The yellow colored sign with blue background, that was surrounded by red light edges says

SCOOPS AHOY ice cream parlor

You saw a guy, leaning on the counter, as if he’s so done with his job. You decided to ask the guy about your question(s) earlier since he doesn’t look so busy.

“Ahoy, there! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain… I’m Steve Harrington.”

His sudden ice cream jingle scared the shit out of you, it made you widening your eyes at him.

“Hi, uhm… mind telling me where am i now?”

"You're in Scoops Ahoy Ice Cream Parlor, ma'am... How may I help you?" The man answered your stupid question with a bored tone. Geez, he must hate his job so much, huh?

"No, I mean... Where am I excatly now?"

The man in front of you squinted his eyes, like he's being suspicious with me.

"You're in Hawkins, Indiana. The United States of America." He responded once again, as if I have no idea where Hawkins is. So this is actually Hawkins? Indiana? Why so different?

You looked around the ice cream shop, leaving the man staring at you in confusion. You pay attention to every detail in it like some kind of detective trying to solve a murder mystery, even if you can still feel the man's eyes on you through your every move.

"Ma'am, are you okay? You need help with anything?"

"No, no... I'm fine, don't worry." Your voice says otherwise, though.

Your eyes finally stopped at the box shaped television on the counter, showing a news broadcast about the newly builded mall, this Starcourt Mall.

"...the year 1985 will surely be a memorable year for us, the people of Hawkins, getting a chance to witness and experience the beautiful Starcourt Mall..."

You felt like your head was spinning when you hear the words: 1985.

“Ma'am, are you sure you’re okay? or do i need to call a doctor?” His face is fully concerned of your well being right now. Instead of answering him, your eyes travelled from the television back to the man's direction.

“What year is it now?"

“it’s 1985? duh..?”

And that's the moment when you knew.

You are doomed.

note: finally, the first chapter's here! i really, reaaallyyyyy hope y'all like it! i'll make sure to post daily since i also need to catch up with some school stuff here. if there's any confusion about this whole time travel thingy (trust me, i was also pretty confused with my own thoughts) feel free to ask! and feel free to request to be on my taglist! happy reading <3

taglist: @xprloki @pupwrites @gorlillaglue25 @lovestrucklyuniverse

[msfantasy-comics]

The Clumsy Flirt

Duke Thomas x Reader

Summary: A short story on Duke acting like a klutz in front of his crush.

Warning: you may experience second hand embarrassment

Duke Thomas had to be the sweetest human being on planet earth.

You lean on your elbows against the counter, continuing to set your sultry gaze on Duke as he approaches the quiet counter with such nervous energy. Seeing such a large handsome dude melting under your gaze elates your spirit. His eyes averting to the side as you remain silently smirking at his increasing fidgety self.

“G-good morning Y/n. Can I please have my usual?” Duke asks anxiously, as he tugs and scrunches at the corner of his jacket.

“Sure hun.” You answer with a devious grin.

Even at 5am Duke is looking unfairly handsome.

The expresso machine jolts to life, filling the empty cafe with sound. Your attention is now fully set on producing the silkiest flat white for your favourite customer.

Normally a guy like Duke would be far from your type. All of your previous romantic partners being flaky, non-comital bad boys with the rizz factor of a nuclear power-plant.

But there is just something endearing about Duke that makes your heart coo and sigh. His sweet like honey personality reinvigorates your angsty demeanour. He’s like a ball of bright light and positivity in a dark, decrepit city like Gotham. His attitude is certainly refreshing to say the least.

You clip the lid onto the cup and slide Dukes coffee towards him, but he continues to look at you dreamily.

“Has somethin’ caught your eye love?” You ask as if snapping Duke back to reality. He timidly rubs his hand on the back of his neck.

“Yes, I mean no- not like that. I mean, you are pretty but not like that.” His shoulders begin to tense up to his ears as he continues his anxious sputtering speech. “I mean, you are pretty! But what I meant was- yes?”

You begin to belt a hearty laughter. Your inner self just want to pick him up and put him in your pocket for safe-keeping. “I think I know what you mean love.” You tease. “You think I am pretty but not in the romantic way right?” You say, whipping the coffee dust off the counter, not looking at Duke.

You may recognise Duke has a crush on you, but you are certain it’s just attraction rather than a genuine romance. He’s just so sweet and kind, and you are just a hardened pessimist.

“No.” He says, which makes your head snap up at him. “I think you pretty, in all the ways.” For the first time ever, you were stumped on a reply. I mean, what do you say to that? Do you casually wave his comment off or do you press further. “I-I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. I shouldn’t be flirting with you at your place of work.” He begins to sputter again making you smile once again.

“Thanks Duke, that’s really sweet of your to say.” Duke still looks sheepish, as if desperate to runaway from the conversation. But you’re desperate to keep him there, as your both finally breaking through the ice. “I think you’re really handsome too. In all of the ways.”

Duke stares at you in stunned silence. Before looking determined.

“Y/n, would you do me the honour, of going on a date with me?” He asked bravely, then suddenly looking increasingly embarrassed at his choice of wording.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You answer gently.

“Great!” He says with delight, slowly walking backwards. “I’ll DM you the details!” He says, bumping into the table, looking suddenly embarrassed again. “That was a yes right?” But you only smirked again with a nod.

“Great! Good! I mean, that’s good. Um, I’ll talk to you soon. H-have a good day!” Duke just about sprints from the cafe.

Gosh, maybe Duke really is your type with all that clumsy rizz.

[unknownmystery22]

ONE OF YOUR GIRLS -Charles Leclerc

Summary: Where he loved the idea of her love not her. Warning: Angst pure angst, toxic relationship, asshole charles

A/N: inspired by One of The Girls By THE WEEKEND

Charles Leclerc the man he was, his charming smile and the gorgeous eyes that no one can resist. And you are no exception. Inspite of knowing his playboy ways and his lack of comitment you found yourself attracted to him.

You being a part of media knew each driver well and were close with most of them due to your genuine questions and how you always refrained from asking about their personal life. The drivers all had taken a liking to you and all looked forward to do interviews with you, inspite of you being a recent joinee.

Lewis Hamilton your idol and your grid family was the first notice your attraction towards the Monagasque "Careful there Y/N, dont go and fall in love with him now" he said laughing but also being concerned. You just shook your head.

Charles Leclerc himself didn't make it any easier for you always complimenting you and doing small gestures which others would consider as friendly but your naive crush took it to heart. The way he would bring your favourite coffeee each time you interview him or the way he ensures you have a ride home or the way his eyes light up whenever speaking to you.

You really thought you had a chance and he did nothing to deny that or make you question your thinking about him. You just wanted him in your life if not possible as a significant other, at least as a friend. You were friends and Charles always confided in you always. Charles always made you feel like the most special girl he made you feel like you were his everything.

Max and Lando well aware of your feelings towards him. Always motivated you to tell him your actual feelings

"C'mon Y/N he never speaks to a girl more than a week if he isn't intrested in them" Lando said

"Atleast you would not keep having expectations, schatje. Just tell him" Max said

How wrong they were !

One fine evening you and Charles were hanging out in his house were you came to the topic of how you prefer your significant other to be. You thought this was it this the only shot you have. You did just that you confessed how much you like him. As soon as you confessed Charles kissed you. It was the best fucking kiss of your life. It was everything and all you ever asked for.

Everything was perfect for a while. Him hugging you, holding your hands, cuddling and going on dates. Few drivers noted the changes and were all happy for you. you too were glowing. You should have known NOTHING LASTS FOREVER.

Soon you noticed how he was never affectionate towards you in public but you brushed it off thinking he wanted to keep it private, that didn't bother you much. But when he randomly going out or partying without you knowing, flirting with other girls it made you question what you really had.

You confronted Charles about this and what his answer just made you more confused.

"What are you my girlfriend ? we are just trying thing out Y/N. I am not in space to commit right now just give me some time".

That must have been it but no, you loved him way too much to let him go easily. You stayed with him hoping things would get better and you will be a happy couple.

Things just got worse from there, he was not as open as before he slowly started ignoring you but you still held on to tiny hope you found here and there.

Others weren't oblivious to the situation though you tried not to let it show. They all noticed how you seem so down always and have fake smile on.

Lewis and Max confront you one day. You break down in front of them and for the first time you let your feeling out. You told them everything about how insecure you feel, how you feel like you are the problem, maybe if you were better or that you are being overdramatic.

"You are the strongest person I know, love. He does not deserve your love I know it is not easy to let go of him right now, but you need to he is slowly sucking the life out of you. It is better to be alone than in bad company." Lewis explained.

"You deserve to be in relationships that make you feel seen, heard, and valued. You dont have put up with his shit, schatje" Max added on. "We will be with you every step of it".

It took you time but soon enough you were done you had no more tears to cry or fucks to give him. You just said to him that you are done with him but he didnt take it seriously cause this was the cycle falling out and him convincing you and you falling right back.

"Dont I too deserve to be loved by someone ?" you asked

"I love you, Y/N. I will start taking you seriously" he tried.

You shook your head "You dont love me Charles you just love the idea of me being in love with you. You love the idea of a person living solely for you. You love that you could pick me at your worst and drop me at your best"

With that you walked out and cried for him yet in the end it hit you that all you will be is

.........ONE OF HIS GIRLS.

[93rd-floret-lily]

Hello! Hestia Salix here, she/her, 13th floret pluribus. speaking as someone who tried to get out of her wardship when it happened, trust me: the more you resist this Affini, the more it decides you need help. The more you try to get rid of it, the closer it's gonna cling. If you really want to make it out of this wardship, your best bet is to just... obey the rules it gives you. If you can demonstrate that you don't need it lurking over your shoulder to ensure good behavior, it's more likely to leave eventually.

Of course, you show a major distrust of florets so I doubt you'll actually listen to me. But hey, I tried. And one way or another, you'll be okay, so I'm not too fussed about whether you listen or not.

Well, the advice is appreciated, Salix. I see that, yes, following the rules is just the best way to make it out of this temp wardship period. I am comitted. I think I can pass this test. I don't need an affini lurking over my shoulder, Rose said she'd ensure I'd be on my best behavior. Maybe I do distrust florets a bit, bit ya'll are LITERALLY BRAINWASHED! I met one the other day that was convinced that they were a pencil? and this whole time I thought hypnosis was just a kink! I mean just a hoax! :o

hmm.... now I'm not sure if Schistega has done anything to my mind? Rose says she hasn't noticed anything yet :?

[zilodak]

sorry if this is kind of a dumb question, but what do you think is a good way to develop the actual plot of a story you have a loose idea of? i've basically had a bunch of characters, themes, concepts and pivotal moments held together with bubblegum and tape in my head for almost a year now, and i am really passionate about these characters and ideas, but have like a mental blockage when it comes to actually arranging them together and coming up with an actual narrative to put them in. it's weird bc i really wanna do something with them, but it's like my brain is scared of comitting to an idea that might not hold up to the maybe overly-grand expectations i've built up over this time for an actual story

I think that first of all, you need to come to terms that the finished product will most likely not be what you planned. And that's okay! You'll realize when you start to put pieces together that sometimes the themes you thought of and the scenes you're fond of, may not make it to the final story. Your readers will not know that unless you make your thought process public so don't beat yourself over the head. Your script and story changing is a natural part of the process, you just need to know when to stop picking on it and let it be.

I start by putting my ADHD daydreams onto paper. Everything I think of ends up in a folder, no matter how stupid or incomprehensible the idea might be. Put a pin in that, I'll come back to it later.

I'm sure you've seen this diagram or something similar before.

Almost all stories have a conflict and climax, yes even those you think are boring and slow. I'll start by mapping out the conflict of the entire story first. What are my protagonists struggles? Who are they struggling against? Once I have that figured out, I'll think of the resolution. What happens in the end? Is it happy? Sad? Bittersweet? Will they succeed in overcoming this conflict? Partially? Not at all? Talking about overcoming the conflict, what happend at the height of the story? Is it a big action scene? An epiphany? An argument between characters? Once we have that settled, what can lead up to that climax? Now this is the fun part. Remember that folder with all the possible daydreams? Let's lay them out there and put a question mark on them. You can narrow them down as you start thinking about what makes sense in context of your climax and what doesn't. Finally, the beginning of your story (and the inciting incident). How does it start? What makes sense in this context? In the middle of the story? At the very beginning? What triggers the conflict? What will you be exploring? What will keep the audience on their toes?

Once I have that figured out, I'll start to individually brainstorming possible chapter scenarios. I'll plan out a plot structure for the chapters, etc etc. Rinse and repeat.

Tadaaaa ~ before you know it you have the first draft of a book! Now you can narrow it down even more, and pick on what does or doesn't fit! Enjoy!