#I had this all written up and my internet went out for the rest of the night 😭 lost all of it

[goldenstarprincesses]

Henlo! You rebloged my post about France in fanfiction and I wanted to reply to it because I found what you said interesting, but because you used just tags would be goofy to reblog it again so I am sending an ask!

I agree about the cannon not helping, the thing is France got better in the cannon, he is more interesting now. I am not very into Prussia so I don't remember if he got better in later parts. But this thing about him being the worst in PruCan fanfic isn't something I noticed in Brazilian Fanfics or maybe I just don't remember lol

I wrote my post at 1 AM and now I stopped to think about what annoys me about how simple and awful Francis' characterization is and I noticed that it simply doesn't have a reason. When I was writing my fic, I wanted to make him bad in a European kind of way, he is France, France really did a lot of shit, he is kind of goofy and useless now? Yes, but that wasn't the case in the Early Modern era.

I also never saw no one exploring his sexuality. Why is Francis overly sexual? Why is he so dramatic? Why is he always trying to get in someone's pants? Real people have reasons to act overly sexual, they aren't just born this way, but WHY I NEVER SEE NO ONE ASKING THOSE QUESTIONS??

Thank you for rebloguing my post and confirming I wasn't just seeing things lol

Hiii! First, I adore your blog. Thank you for introducing me to the world of TurkFra. My eyes have been opened and my mind widened.

I almost think the fandom needed to go through the "dark times" or "dark age" of character interpretation to get where we are now. I know there was for sure a shift happing when I dipped out of the fandom in 2016ish. And when I started occasionally reading fanfics again during lockdown I was blown away with the shifts regarding the characterization of nearly all the characters.

Totally agree with you 100% about interpreting a character like France in a way where he is bad shit person, because of the actual actions of France. Imo its really important to include things like that into every nations characterizing when engaging in more "real life inspired" characterization. Almost have to wonder if the rise in popularity of historical hetalia has had anything to do with this change. While it was sorta a thing in the early years of the fandom, it didn't really seem to have much of a collective following and community. And now it seems that characters of empires/colonists like France/England/America/Russia etc. have shifted away from being written to have very goofy and comically negative traits more in-line with the 2008-2012ish canon to having their negative traits rooted more in the real-life negative habits or traits of the real world nations. I'd also wonder if the average age in the fandom has gone up which has helped characters simply be better developed.

The "bad touch trio" was super common back in the day. It was France/Prussia/Spain. Pretty much the entire characterization for them all ended up being sex addicts who went around well, SA or SH other nations. That mixed with the very silly "everything is based on basic national stereotypes" vibe of early canon I think just made i so a character like France ("nation of love"/the idea that the French are much more sexually liberated then the English or Americans) was very one-sided even when other charters were getting a little bit better of treatment. I also always felt like France was never as popular in the American/English fandom as American and England. So he (and often Canada) would sorta just thrown into things without much development character-wise.

You bring up so many good points!!! legit I have always thought about things like this.

[xreader-writing]

Still here | Lando Norris

Sumarry: Y/n comes to her ex-boyfriend Lando Norris' defense when he's being canceled, and Lando couldn't be happier about it.

Pairing: Ex!Lando Norris X Actress!Reader

A/n: So this will probably become a series lol English is not my first language, forgive me for any mistakes.

The next chapter will be WRITTEN, so tell me if you approve this for series or not, thanks :)

Liked by user1 and 965,495 others

F1news Some internet users are questioning and disapproving of Lando Norris' behavior with Lewis Hamilton, and even pointing out other times when the driver acted rudely with other people around him. What do you think about this?

—

User1 Disrespectful, that's all.

User2 I think the fame went to his head.

User3 That's probably why Y/n broke up with him.

User4 I bet he was toxic to her.

User5 Y/n is so sweet, how did she put up with him for 2 years?

User6 Wow completely disappointed

Liked by user1 and 985,765 others

F1news Old photos of a fight between the former couple Lando and Y/n are circulating on the internet again after the cancellation of the pilot, some internet users are saying that he took out his frustrations on his partner.

—

User1 This is getting worse every day...

User2 Unfollowing Lando.

User3 I think the haters are taking advantage of this.

User4 I've always suspected this

user5 That's because he was born into a rich family and she wasn't.

User6 What does this have to do with anything?

Liked by mclaren, carlossainz55 and 1,680,593 others

Youruser Okay, I wouldn't say anything about it, but I think things got a little out of hand, and that's not right, some people have been saying how bad and rude Lando is, and how apparently he "was terrible" to me during our relationship, those people couldn't be more wrong.

Lando is the kindest and most kind person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting, and the two years we spent together were nothing but magical and happy with him, the photos that are circulating say that he's taking his anger out on me, my dears... rest assured that on that day the one who was taking the risk was him lol we had a normal fight like any other couple, don't blow it up or make too many theories about it.

We ended our relationship for other reasons, but we remain friends, he has all my affection and love and I know I have his too, so please stop this gratuitous and completely unnecessary hatred towards him, it hurts me too.

Thank you for your attention, Y/n.

—

Comments have been disabled.

Liked by user1 and 905,035 others

F1news Actress Y/n came out in defense of her ex-boyfriend Lando Norris, after all the theories and the cancellation of the pilot, she wrote a very cute text clarifying some speculations about the life of the former couple "Lando is the kindest and most kind person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting" says the actress in a part of her text that was posted in a publication on the actress's Instagram.

—

User1 Oh my God, I miss them so much 😭😭😭

User2 I love this woman

User3 McLaren liked it, they may have paid her to post this

User4 Oh, fuck you

User5 We never found out why they broke up

User6 I still think what he did was disrespectful..

User7 I think Lando is happier than ever now lol

User8 Hadn't she been with Pierre before dating Lando?

User 9 They have only been seen together a few times, they might be friends.

User10 Yes, nothing was ever confirmed.

───────────────────────NEXT

[jockbroski34]

AlterEgo

The last thing I expected on my 20th birthday was to receive a gift from Cody, my roommate.  We were never close, and there was no way in hell he actually knew much about me to know it was my birthday without me telling him.  Him and I were basically complete opposites.  While I was your typical nerd, smart, introverted, and so on, he was basically your typical jock in all the worst ways.  He was boisterous, arrogant, and a total meathead.  We mostly agreed to stay out of each others’ way, considering our irreconcilable differences, but that didn’t stop him from being a massive pain in the ass.  His room was constantly in a state of disarray, with sweaty clothes scattered all over the place.  As such, I often avoided being anywhere near his room if necessary since it smelled like a locker room.  He often invited over his “bros” who were just as bad.  Whether they were hogging the TV to watch whatever game was on, smuggling alcohol into our dorm to get wasted, or playing catch in the fucking living room, they were always a nuisance.  And whenever I brought any of that up to him, he would always end up saying something like “It’s not that serious, dude.  We were just having a good time.”  Yeah, a good time at my expense.  Whoever assigned the two of us to live together must’ve thought this was some twisted joke.

I woke up at 9 AM, still a little tired from last night.  I hung out at one of my friends’ dorms to celebrate my birthday.  I yawned, and went to the kitchen to make some breakfast.  I saw Cody was up as well, his legs spread across the couch, to the point that he was taking up two seats, watching something on the TV that was several volume levels too loud for me.

“Hey bro, today’s your birthday right?”  Cody asked, as he tilted his head to face me.

“Uhh, yeah.  How did you know?”  I responded.

“Oh don’t worry about it, bro.  Happy birthday!”  I saw him get up and run to his disorganized room, likely to grab something for me.  I could see a pair of worn gym shorts on the floor through the crack in the door.  He pulled out an old Nike shoe box, since he likely had nothing better to put a gift in.  “I’ve been saving this for you.  I hope you like it!”  Is this his way of trying to get on my good side?

I rolled my eyes since I doubt he got me anything I would enjoy.  He probably just got me something that he’d enjoy, like some tight-fitting tank top or protein powder or something.  Not that I work out or anything.  The only gift I’d want from him is for him to stop being a douche.  I opened the box and I was surprised about what I saw.  It was a video game.  Not any that I’d ever heard of.  I looked at the box art and the words AlterEgo were written in a wacky, colorful font.

“Yeah, I knew you like video games, so I found this for you.  I heard on the internet that it’s pretty nitch…nichy…what’s the word…”

“Niche?”  I responded.  I had to admit, him struggling to pronounce the word right was a little amusing.  As amusing as being with a simpleton like him could be.

“That’s the word!  I got it for myself, but I realized like half an hour in that it wasn’t my thing.  I’m happy with what I have right now.  I figured you’d probably get more out of it than me.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“No problem, dude.  Anyways, I gotta hit the gym.  I’m gonna be out all day so you have the PS5 all to yourself.  Hope you enjoy it bro!”

I watch him leave, thankful to have some peace and quiet.  As I ate breakfast, I read the back of the cover in order to figure out what this game was about.

“Become a new you!  In this life simulation adventure, you can become any kind of person you want and live any way you choose.  Control your fictional avatar, your AlterEgo, and level up your stats to become closer to your true self.”

The game seemed something like The Sims or Animal Crossing, but with some stat progression system.  It was a game that I had never heard of, but it could be some hidden gem.  The rest of the back was filled with screenshots from the game with the cartoony characters doing activities such as cooking, jogging, and riding a motorcycle.  I figured I might as well try the game since I did get it for free.  Even if it was from Cody, I wasn’t one to refuse someone’s generosity.

I put the game in the disk slot and booted it up.  The title screen had that same logo and some bubbly background music.  I pressed the start button and I was presented with a save selection screen.  I noticed that Cody’s save was on there, which was odd because I was playing on my account.  I knew I should’ve put a password on it.  I wanted to make my own character, but part of me was curious about the character that he made.  Knowing him, I can only guess.  His game time was less than an hour, as he was only on Day 1, and he likely spent most of that time on the character creation screen.

I started his save and my character was sitting in his room.  At this point, it was very bare, with only a bed and a bunch of cardboard boxes scattered around the room.  I guess the character starts by moving into their new home?  I went into the menu to find more information about the character.  The character was named Cody obviously and his AlterEgo somewhat matched him too.  I went into the stats screen and I was greeted by a tutorial.

“Here you can check your AlterEgo’s stats.  You have already set your initial growth modifiers and assigned your base stats.  If you need a refresher, whatever stats you chose your AlterEgo to excel at are highlighted in red and the ones you chose to trade off are highlighted in blue.  This means that your AlterEgo will grow in the stats in red much faster and prioritize activities that increase those stats and avoid activities associated with increasing your stats in blue.  As you play, your AlterEgo will naturally develop into one of hundreds of potential archetypes based on the activities that they excel at.  Experiment and see who you become!”

I looked at the stat screen and saw a list of stats with a bar indicating percentage level.  The stats included Strength, Constitution, Dexterity, Intelligence, Wisdom, Courage, Charisma, and Luck.  Not too far off from DnD I guess.  It seemed like he chose to have Strength and Constitution as his highest stats as their font was colored red and Intelligence and Wisdom as his weakest stats as they were colored in blue.  Gee, why am I not surprised…  Cody was anything but a genius.  It seemed like he had 20 initial points to allocate wherever he chose with a default limit of 5.  And I was equally not surprised to find that my meathead roommate chose to put 5 in Strength and Constitution again like a barbarian.  It’s like all he cared about was his looks and perceived masculinity, even in game.

Strength (physical strength): 5

Constitution (physical build and stamina): 5

Dexterity (agility and flexibility): 2

Intelligence (knowledge): 0

Wisdom (intuition and discipline): 0

Courage (risk-taking and bravery): 3

Charisma (social skills): 3

Luck (good or bad fortune): 2

After looking through his stats, I decided enough was enough and I didn’t really want to go around pretending I was Cody the whole game.  I quit out of his save and went back to the title screen.  I was back on the save select screen when I became confused.  There was still one save, except the name of the character wasn’t Cody…it was mine?  The play time was set to 0 minutes.  I don’t know how that happened, but if it saves me the trouble of building a character and reading more tutorials, I’m happy.

To my relief, the avatar representing Cody wasn’t there.  Instead, a very generic, average character stood in its place in the same room.  I wouldn’t be surprised if this was some placeholder account with everything set to the default.  Whatever, I can probably change stuff about him later.  I decided to move my AlterEgo outside and I was greeted by a map of a large city.  I chose an area of the map to explore at random and controlled my new avatar.  On the busy city street, there was a cafe, restaurant, and a gym.  It was too early for the cafe and restaurant to open, so I guess my only option here is the gym.  I’ve never stepped foot in a gym before, but this character doesn’t have to represent me as a whole.  Plus, I’d like my character to be well-rounded unlike Cody’s who would probably spend the whole time grinding here.

I went into the gym and had to perform a set of quick-time events.  First, I had to do some bench presses.  Then some squats.  Then finally, run on a treadmill.  At the end of it, my AlterEgo did a cartoony celebration and flexed his arms.  A pop-up showing that my Strength, Constitution, and Dexterity went up by 1, followed up by another one saying that my Strength and Constitution will double every time I do activities like go to the gym.  So it looks like Cody’s modifiers carried over after all despite everything seeming to be the default.  That should’ve been the first thing I checked.  I didn’t want my character to be specced to be some lumbering brute.  I suppose that if I wanted to get my character’s Intelligence and Wisdom, it’d probably be like playing on Hard mode.  Honestly, I was open to the challenge.

I was disappointed to find out that it’d be harder than it seemed.  When my character got home in the evening, I went into one of his boxes and I was presented with an option to read.  I was presented with several options, ranging from comics to full-on novels.  I chose the novel since I figured it would raise my Intelligence the best.  I watched my AlterEgo try to read the book, but I saw a look of confusion on his face.  Eventually, he grew frustrated and threw the book back into the empty box as if he were shooting through a basketball hoop.  I expected my Intelligence to stay the same, but no, it actually dropped!

“Sometimes when your AlterEgo fails to complete an activity, their stats can decrease!  These stats can even go into the negative.  Make sure to keep your stats high because it can become very difficult to increase your stats if they fall below a certain point.”

I couldn’t believe that my character struggled to even read.  This guy was nothing like me at all!  I hoped that it would be easier to raise my AlterEgo’s Intelligence because I didn’t want him to be a moron.  I watched my character fall asleep and I could see into his dream.  Another tutorial popped up.

“Sometimes your character will have dreams!  These dreams are mostly random, but will also depend on your character’s stats.  Just like other activities, you have a chance to increase your stats.”

I watched my character fight in a zombie apocalypse, but the zombies didn’t even look remotely threatening.  I succeeded in the activity and my Courage went up by 2 and my Luck and Strength went up by 1.  My character wiped his head of sweat as the zombies turned to dust.

The next day, I learned that my AlterEgo can go to school.  That was expected, considering my character’s age, only I didn’t realize how hard it would be for him.  He was sitting in a desk trying to write down notes.  Eventually, like an idiot, he slammed his thick head on his desk and started snoring.  This was honestly getting embarrassing.  My Intelligence and Wisdom dropped yet again, not by 1, but by 2.  If I didn’t do something different, my AlterEgo would basically be a clone of Cody instead of myself.  After class, instead of being given an option to go and do something, my AlterEgo is approached by a group of buff men.

Quarterback: Hey new guy, you’re looking pretty strong.  Judging from your Strength and Constitution, I think you’d make a good fit for the football team.  Your Dexterity and Courage also seem pretty good.  Wanna join, bro?

You know who else played football?  Cody.  I had to keep being reminded of him even when he wasn’t even around.  This was my character and I didn’t care about sports, so I clicked the no option.  To my surprise, my AlterEgo nodded instead.  It's like this game is going out of its way to spite me at this point.  Two tutorials popped up.

“If your Wisdom is too low, your AlterEgo might act on their own desires rather than your command.  This means that they can sometimes act on their own or select activities that they are more interested in rather than those they are not.  Raise your Wisdom or else you will have less freedom when developing your AlterEgo.”

“You have decided to join a club or organization.  This will grant you a passive growth to certain stats every week.”

I watched as my AlterEgo walked away with the group of jocks.  A football uniform magically appeared over his normal clothes.  For joining the football team, I was granted a point in Strength, Constitution, Courage, and Charisma every week, with the usual double for Strength and Constitution.

I kept playing the game, getting frustrated at my AlterEgo’s reluctance to even try to act smart or reasonable.  He frequently avoided or skipped intellectual pursuits to focus on those that made him look or feel good.  It honestly just felt random whether he wanted to obey me or not.  By the end of Day 7, the first week my stats were looking like this.

Strength: 30

Constitution: 28

Dexterity: 10

Intelligence: -20

Wisdom: -15

Courage: 21

Charisma: 17

Luck: 16

My Intelligence and Wisdom seemed unfixable.  My AlterEgo wouldn’t even bother to try to read or pay attention at school and he consistently started to make random choices that satisfied his needs as the week progressed.  I grew incredibly frustrated at this, but out of curiosity, I wanted to see if there was an end to this so I could go back and make my own character.  Either way, this game was plagued with questionable design choices.  It’s like the AlterEgo was already locked into a specific path.  I hoped that I had accidentally skipped a tutorial or something and that I hadn’t softlocked myself out of raising certain stats.  Unfortunately, my AlterEgo’s stats continued to grow and drop as I hit Day 30.

Strength: 75

Constitution: 69

Dexterity: 44

Intelligence: -66

Wisdom: -49

Courage: 54

Charisma: 37

Luck: 41

I received another tutorial message on Day 31.

“You look like you are on track to evolve into your archetype very soon!  By this point, your AlterEgo’s stats will be locked in place.  That will be the end of the main story, but there is still so much to enjoy afterwards!”

I figured I might as well see this through to the end.  You know, see how much of an idiot my character can become.  Despite my efforts, all my AlterEgo does now is work out, practice and go to games, and go to parties, outside of necessities.  His Intelligence is so low that he rarely even goes to school anymore and that has caused his intelligence to plummet to the bottom.  I played for even longer, eventually hitting Day 60.  Turns out that this is the day I would discover my AlterEgo’s archetype.

“Congratulations on making it this far.  I hope you are excited to find out your archetype, because I know I am!  Remember that these changes are permanent, so there will no longer be ways to increase or decrease your stats.”

I watched my AlterEgo marched onto the stage and I was able to view my final stats and a rating of each of them.  The descriptions seemed to be heavily based on my other stats, and trust me, they were very satirical, and in my case, very scathing.

Strength: 100

I’d give this an A+.  I’m not even sure if you are human anymore.  I’ve seen you lift things that no normal man could, not because you have to, but because you want to.  You spend more time at the gym than you do at your own house and you might give The Hulk a run for his money.

Constitution: 100

You also get an A+.  Your months of training at the gym have given you a perfect, chiseled body that looks like it could be made out of iron.  You have a seemingly endless supply of testosterone and your stamina (in more ways than one, it seems) cannot be beaten.

Dexterity: 75

This gets a B.  You are very athletic and quick on your feet despite your appearance.  However, your large size means that you can be pretty clumsy and you’ve probably broken more things than you’d like to admit.

Intelligence: -100

I’ll just go along with your teachers and give you a big fat F.  Are you even trying?  I worry that there’s not a single thought going around in your thick skull.  You care very little for anything intellectual or sophisticated, not that you even know what those words mean.

Wisdom: -90

Likewise, you also get another big fat F.  Were you dropped on your head when you were a baby or did you take too many tackles to your cranium?  You have incredibly poor judgment and you only make decisions that satisfy your brutish desires.  In short, you often act before you think.  Your lack of discipline is only matched by your lack of brain cells.  As long as you’re having fun, should I really care what you do with your life?

Courage: 90

I’d give this an A, but not an A+.  Because your brain moves too slow to process any risk, you often think before you act.  You often find yourself in the most dangerous of situations and you often perform incredibly stupid stunts.  When you’re on the field, you’re a risk taker, and at least it usually pays off.  On the bright side, you always come out unscathed, so I can commend that.

Charisma: 70

I’d give this a B-.  Being on the football team and being very attractive is going to place a lot of eyes on you, but they are all focused on your body because everything else you have to offer is very superficial.  I wonder if you surround yourself with people who think and act the same as you do or if people keep you around to laugh at every stupid word that comes out of your mouth.

Luck: 80

Lastly, you get a B.  Your luck genuinely amazes me sometimes.  Despite everything, despite your lack of any intellectual thought or reasoning, you have survived long enough to make it this far in life.  This alone proves that life favors some over others.  If there is room for the concept of a higher power in your shrunken headspace, then they probably feel a sense of amusement at the state of you bumbling around through life with only your good looks and muscles salvaging you.

“What do you think?  Are you happy with your results?  Anyhow, it’s time to reveal your archetype.  It’s who you are and who you will be from now on!  Drumroll please…  (As if it wasn’t obvious enough…)  You, my friend, are…THE JOCK!”

The Jock

You are likely an athlete or bodybuilder and you likely care little for intellectual thought.  You enjoy playing and watching sports and working out above anything else.  You are hyper-masculine, aggressive, arrogant, and egotistical.  However, you are also very muscular, tall, athletic, popular, and handsome.  You feel a deep sense of camaraderie with anyone you consider your bro, which mostly includes other jocks like yourself.  Your wardrobe mostly consists of tank tops, jerseys, varsity jackets, shorts, sweatpants, jockstraps, baseball caps, sneakers, and everything in between.  Because of your high testosterone and your above average genitals, you are viewed as a desirable partner and often partake in sexual activities with members of the opposite sex, and sometimes even other men depending on the person and situation.  Your most likely career path is as an athlete or coach, but as long as it doesn’t require too much deep thinking, you could probably find a job anywhere with your connections and attractiveness.  Enjoy your new self!

I watched my AlterEgo vanish within a cloud of smoke and come out a cartoonish representation of your average stereotypical jock with blonde hair and a very lunkish, yet admittedly impressive build.  He looked around, clearly disoriented, with a dull, confused look on his face before flexing with a cheesy, confident smirk on his face.  The audience cheered and clapped at this ridiculous personification of a walking stereotype as if they were watching a magic show.  Honestly, it was almost amusing how the description it gave for “me” couldn’t possibly be more wrong.  It sounded like everything Cody was, not me.  Although I guess I was playing with his settings, not by choice I will add, but I had little control over how my AlterEgo decided to live its life.  I just wish I could get him off my mind for just one day.  Either way, I found myself incredibly dissatisfied with my new AlterEgo, but I accidentally found out a way to make things even worse for me.  I just wanted to scroll through the remaining text to get to the credits, since I have been playing for 8 hours by now, when I saw a selection that would seal my fate.

“Are you satisfied with your result?  Now that you’ve discovered who you truly are, are you ready to be The Jock in the real world?  WARNING: If you select Yes, your save will be deleted as a result.  These changes are permanent.  If you click No, you can continue playing after the credits.”

I accidentally clicked Yes as I was mashing through the text.  What the hell was I thinking?!  I had no idea that this would change the entire trajectory of my life.  At first I felt nothing, as the screen faded to black.  Then, I saw the credits start to roll, playing a remix of the joyful title screen music, and that’s when I started to feel all warm inside and I felt a painful shock come from my controller.

I felt a sudden wave of pain rush through my body as my bones started to crack and shift in my body and my muscles began to inflate like balloons.  I looked at the credits and noticed that the new jock AlterEgo was doing the things he normally enjoyed doing in the background.  But I couldn’t really concentrate on it as I found myself focusing down below.  My legs stretched and stretched until I was around 6’4.  My feet grew to a size 15 and my thick glutes and ass made me sink deeper into the couch from their weight.  The fat in my stomach felt like it was melting as it left behind nothing more than a layer of sweat and a firm six pack of abs.  My upper chest formed into a round set of bouncy pecs.  Likewise, my biceps and triceps were almost the size of my head now and my soft hands became rough and covered in calluses from intense lifting.  I felt my clothes cling tightly to my body as if they were two sizes too small, and they’d easily rip if my body grew any more.  My shirt fit more like a crop top on me and my clothes were damp from pit and ass sweat.

I felt my long hair recede into my head until it formed into a shorter cut that was much easier to maintain.  As it did that, my chestnut-colored locks lightened into a golden blonde.  My soft, round eyes became more sharp and masculine and I could feel them turn from a chocolate brown into an icy shade of blue.  My youthful face lost most of its baby fat and buried beneath it was nothing more than the chiseled edges of my jawline.  The lower half of my face, which used to be soft and hairless, was now covered in a prickly lawn of stubble.  Even my pasty skin turned a shade tanner from the years I spent in the sun throwing balls around.  I noticed that my entire body started to sweat profusely to the point that I could smell my own musk and I became absorbed by my new-found masculine scent.  I could smell the testosterone that was pumping through my veins like a drug.  I felt powerful, dominant, virile, and dare I say it, good…  Lastly, I found my lips contort into an obnoxious, conceited smirk.  Was I…enjoying this?  Judging from the growing feeling in my groin, I was led to believe that I was.  And it kept growing and growing and growing…

All the while, the credits continued to play and the happy-go-lucky music felt like it was mocking my painful situation.  Despite the strange pleasure I felt, it was only a distraction as my body still writhed in pain through the whole process while I changed entirely into a real life manifestation of my AlterEgo.  What the hell is this game?  I noticed that the jock avatar stared directly towards the screen, as if he was breaking the fourth wall, and started to walk closer and closer before vanishing from his virtual prison for good.  The lively credits started to simmer down, giving the screen a more empty and disquieting feeling.  That was the last thing I noticed before I felt a sharp headache ring through my head.  I am usually fine playing games for a long period of time so why…Why did my roommate buy me this game anyways, bro?  If he was gonna buy me any game, he should’ve gotten me the new CoD or Madden game, not this weird shit.  I had to admit, it was kinda addicting.  I liked being able to work out or play sports even when I’m at home.  Wait, what was that?  I felt like I just heard another voice in my head, both sounding similar yet different to my own.  Eventually he called out directly to me.

“Hey bro, it’s me.  Your AlterEgo.  You know, the real you.  It’s been fun, dude.  Now I get to enter the real world, isn’t that sick?  So here’s what’s gonna happen, dude.  I am currently inside your mind and I’m making the final changes to turn you into the person you were always meant to be.  That’s right dude, we are becoming one singular person in both body and mind.  Don’t try to struggle or fight back.  You know I’m stronger than you.  There’s no going back.  So, are you ready to become one with your true self?

No…I thought to myself.  I wasn’t a jock.  I was never a jock.  I’m nothing like my AlterEgo.  This is a mistake.  This was Cody’s AlterEgo, not mine!

“Chill out, bro.  I know you read the warning and you clicked Yes, so you obviously knew the risk.  Why did you keep playing if you knew you’d become a jock regardless of the decisions you made?  Because you are one deep down.  Or maybe you secretly wanted to be one.  Maybe you wanted to see what life was like on the other side.  Maybe this Cody guy wanted you to try out this save, you know, to see what would happen...  Whatever reasoning, it really doesn’t matter dude.  I know you can feel me taking over your mind.  You’re finding it harder to think.  Soon you’ll be The Jock, me.  I just wish you realized a little sooner who you really were…”

I felt my brain starting to shut off and my vision starting to become blurry as my AlterEgo took it over.  I don’t even know how any of this is possible, even by today’s standards.  An AI buried deep within the game was taking over my body and mind entirely, reshaping me in his image.  But I continued to resist, to cling onto whatever parts of my personality I could.  However, as I felt my mind sink deeper and deeper into this mental void, I felt myself slowly becoming more and more like The Jock.  The archetype that was decided on, not by me, but for me.  Until that’s all I was.

Everything turned black for a few seconds.  I slowly regained consciousness as my brain rebooted itself.  Wait…what’s a reboot?  I sat and watched the credits with a dim look on my face as it finally ended.  I was booted back to the title screen and saw that my save was indeed deleted.  This was proof that my AlterEgo was now a part of me and that he was finally whole.  I pulled out my phone wanting to learn more about this game, because, dude, it was kinda fucking weird. By scrolling, I couldn’t find much, but I did discover a post from not too long ago on some ancient forum site that was probably made in the early 2000s.

“Is The Game AlterEgo Real?”

“I’ve heard rumors about this game called AlterEgo, but I have very little information on it.  It’s said to be incredibly dangerous and could lead to permanent bodily and mental changes.  Throughout all of my research, I could not find any copy of the game for sale, nor any definitive proof that it’s real or any information on the company that developed it.  If you have any information on this game, please let me know.”

I skimmed through the forum page, not that interested in reading what everyone had to say.  Who has time for that anyways?  But I did find one reply that caught my eye.

“I can confirm with certainty that AlterEgo does exist.  My friend received it as a gift for Christmas and he wouldn’t stop talking about it to me.  It’s like he was addicted.  A week later, when I saw him next, I could barely even recognize him.  His body had grown and changed greatly and he didn’t act like his usual self.  I even feel like his memories might be a little distorted.  I tried checking his house to find the game in order to figure out what it was all about, but I don’t think he has it anymore.  He probably sold it or gave it away since he said he finished it.  No matter what, he won’t tell me.  If there are any other copies of the game left, please let me know.”

Woah, so this game is fucking weird, dude.  Wasn’t just me.  I just played it right?  But I don’t feel any different.  You know, I bet these nerds would pay a lot for a chance to find out about this game.  Maybe they might come out as different people.  I’ll put it up on eBay for a high price.  One of those dweebs just has to take the bait.  I wouldn’t mind a little cash though.  I’d feel bad for selling Cody’s gift, but just imagine what I could get with that much money.

“Hey bro, you still in here dude?”  I heard a familiar voice shout as they opened the door.

“Yo Cody, there you are.  What’s up dude?”  I was happy to see him.  Cody was my roommate and my best friend.  We were practically inseparable.  When he made eye contact with me, his eyes widened.  I couldn’t really blame him for being impressed with my awesome body.

“You beat that game I gave you already?”  He seemed surprised, yet almost impressed.

“Yeah, it’s not usually my type, but I enjoyed it dude.”

“Do you…feel any different, bro?”  Cody sounded kinda hesitant there.  Had he read about the rumors too?  I don’t see why he’d have to worry.  None of those rumors are true anyways.

“Nah, same as I’ve always been.”

“Alright, good.  I was just making sure you were down to get some food.  You should be out partying and celebrating your birthday, not playing some nerdy video game.  And trust me, I know all the good spots.”

“You’re right bro.  I haven’t gotten enough exercise in today.  Let’s go.”

“Wait, before you go, your clothes are so sweaty dude.  You should change.”

“Oh shit, good idea.”

“Y-you can just wear one of my clothes.  They’d probably fit you better.”  He was right.  As I soon realized, someone shrunk all my clothes as part of a prank.

Me and Cody went to a sports bar to watch the game.  If I remember correctly, this was our favorite spot to get food, except you know, anywhere that lets me hit my macros.  Since it was my birthday, he even paid for the whole meal.  I don’t remember how long I’ve known him, but couldn’t ask for a better bro.  On the way home, Cody grabbed a six pack of beer from the frat house and brought it to our dorm to drink the night away.  I wasn’t old enough to drink, but it’s not like I never had alcohol before.  And besides, today was basically my cheat day.

We got wasted while we watched TV, and we did some things that I probably wouldn’t admit to anyone but him.  I couldn’t help it though.  I hadn’t gotten laid all weekend and it was my birthday.  Quite frankly, I deserved it.  Thankfully Cody took one for the team.  He said it wasn’t weird because we’ve definitely done it before and that it was our secret.  I had to give him credit.  His tight hole is better than most girls’.  I didn’t know he was a bottom until tonight.  I also didn’t remember having a dick this big, but you don’t see me complaining.  After all was said and done, I passed out drunk next to him in his bed, our bodies drenched in sweat and each other’s fluids, as I enjoyed the bromance I have with my best bro.  This was the best birthday ever.

The next day, I got up extra early to go for a run despite my hangover.  Afterwards I went to school, but like usual, I struggled to pay attention.  It was like my mind was in a constant fog.  My grades are slipping and this football scholarship is the only thing keeping me from dropping out entirely.  After classes, I joined Cody and the others at practice.  Throughout the day, I kept getting this feeling of uh…dayjah voo?  That word that means that you feel like you’ve done something before.  I wasn’t exactly sure where it was coming from.  I shrugged it off.  I was just a jock and I didn’t need to worry about stuff like that.

When I got home, I got an offer for the game Cody gave me.  You know, AlterEgo.  Some nerd seriously offered $1000 for it.  I didn’t actually know it was that rare.  I hope he enjoys it more than I did.  I’ll sure enjoy the 1000 dollars.  I bet he’ll love passing it around to all his other geeky friends.  I wonder what their AlterEgos might look like…

[bunnys-kisses]

holy- THE MAX WEED FIC MIGHT BE THE HOTTEST F1 PIECE IVE READ SO FAR OML PLEASE MORE DRUNK FILTHY SEX WITH MAX I BEG YOU!! or hear me out his rival (who already is into max but refuses to admit it) accidentally takes an aphrodisiac and she’s forced to beg and grind on max for his help!! size kink please with those huge thighs and hands of his ❤️❤️

oh my god thank you!!! i wasn't too sure how people would like intoxicated fics! i know that most write it with liquor, but if you've had sex while stoned, it's a nicer feeling. anyway, i'm really fucking with this idea so! i hope you enjoy!

and for those out there on the internet, send me your ideas! i love ideas to be shared and written!!!! send me your smutty ideas! i want em!!!

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, aphrodisiacs, begging/whining, size kink, praise kink, non-penetrative sex, driver!reader, recreational drug use (weed), enthusiastic consent, thigh riding, clothed sex, max being a good rival/lover

"i think i should cutting these up for you, schat." he said as he cut the bag open for you. nothing too spectacular on, just four pieces of chocolate, "so this was their response to not having weed." he picked up a piece and eyed it in the light of the kitchen.

most drivers had their vices, many indulged in the bitter nectar of alcohol. others enjoyed the private company of certain individuals, which left heavy stacks of money on nightstands and tucked into bank accounts. a small portion got their kicks from substances that went harder.

you remembered having to sit in a meeting with max when you first started in formula one about the dangers of illicit drugs. as if most of the retired drivers didn't have their brains re-altered by the likes of cocaine.

but this wasn't canada, or certain parts of the united states or even amsterdam. you couldn't just freely by your fix, weed, so you had to get creative. but someone with as much money as you, with that much influence in a city like monte carlo allowed you to get what you needed.

it may not be marijuana on paper, but it would do the trick on a saturday night during summer break.

"you don't think i can handle it?' you asked as you rested your chin against your hand with your elbow on the counter. you sighed, "you think so poorly of me, verstappen?"

he sighed, "no, i just don't want you passed out on my couch. the point is to have fun, not get wasted." he said but before he could grab a knife to cut it half for you, you had taken a piece of it and ate it down. max looked at you and put the knife back in the drawer, "you know, fine. fine, fine, fine. let's see how this goes, schat."

it was almost a dare and made you sit up a little more, you made a face at him, "what? i'm a big girl, i can handle a little drugs."

he drummed his fingers against the counter top and stuck out his bottom lip as he made a face back at you. his other hand was on his hip as he said, "like you could handle all that vodka in austria in twenty-nineteen. or when you out smoked me that weekend in amsterdam and i had to stay in your hotel room because you were going to cry if i left."

"ya know, verstappen. i don't like how i'm being spoken to."

he sighed, he went around the counter and kissed you on the cheek, "grab your bottle of water, you're going to need it." max knew, underneath it all, you carried a soft spot for him. he did for you as well, but he was a little more open about it. you had protected your soft underbelly when it came to him, while he held his arms open for you.

the feelings didn't start until an hour after you took it.

there was some movie on, but you weren't paying much attention. you were cuddled up against him. his arm was around your shoulders and kept you closed to him. you could feel the tingle in your feet and up your legs.

you made a small moaning noise with your nose in the side of his neck, right up against his hair. your hand was spread across the broadness of his chest.

your clenched onto his shirt and shakily exhaled as it start to really hit. everything felt gooey in your brain as you rubbed up against him. usually when you took part in illicit fun, you just got hungry or sleepy. but not this, something swirled in your gut.

"max." you said out of breath.

he pulled you closer to him and looked at you, "yes, schat? aw, was it all too much for you?" he cupped the back of your head and pulled you in for a sweet kiss.

you whined against the kiss as you felt the heat run through your body. you felt hot all over, your knew your face must feel so hot. when you pulled away, you swallowed, "i'm.. i'm really turned on."

he chuckled, oh this was perfect. he rubbed the back of your head, those blue eyes enchanted you. this guy really was going tire-to-tire with you almost every weekend. that excited you.

you've thought about the sight of him in that driving suit, the stupid kits red bull puts him in. even now in a white t-shirt, and sweatpants after a nice dinner, you thought about what was under there.

"shit."

he chuckled then reached over to grab your metal water bottle. he opened it for you and gave you some. you drank it down heavily before he laughed once more. he put the bottle down and asked, "how are you feeling?"

"hot all over." you said, "i need you to fuck me."

he said, "i don't think i can. you're too high." he tucked hair behind your ear, but his eyes went wide as you got on either side of his thick thigh. he looked up at you and said, "schat, i need your word. are you okay to do this?"

you nodded as you gripped onto his shoulders, "yeah, yeah. i'll do all the work. nothing serious." even through the layers of clothes, you felt the stimulation across your clit. you could feel the blood rush in your ears.

your dug your nails into the meat of his shoulders, through the t-shirt he wore. you shakily exhaled, "i can see why everyone obsesses over your thighs." you then grabbed his hand and pressed your palm against his, "i didn't realize how big your hands were either." you giggled, "they're like bear paws." then pressed his hand against your heated cheek.

"they're not that big."

you nodded as you moved against him, your clothed cunt felt stimulated by the movements you made. plus his hands on you made you more turned on. your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, "they so are, they're like big paws. big bear paws." you giggled as you squirmed against him.

max looked away from you for a moment and sighed deeply to compose himself. in all fairness he wanted to sink his teeth into you. he wanted to fold you in half and fuck you until no words could leave your mouth. but he couldn't not while you were like this, even when he said yes. he wanted to make sure that you were sober when he did that.

"why can't you fuck me, max? i've been such a good girl! i almost beat you in belgium, that should make you fuck me." you whined, you stuck out your bottom lip with your hips still grinding against his thigh.

he cupped your behind and kept his nose against your, he sighed, "i'd love to, beautiful." he said, "but, you're not in the right mindset. i know we're rivals. but, i could never hurt you." it was the god's honest truth.

"no fair!" you whined.

"if you need to get off again after this, you can feel free to... pleasure yourself." he said, the words got caught in his throat. he could feel the blush up to his ears at the sight of you grinding against his thigh.

you nodded and held onto him as you continued to rub against him. you panted wildly and you were louder than usual. nromally you were rather quiet, but while high you were pitifully loud. you kissed him on the jaw and said, "next time i wanna feel that nose of yours against my pussy."

he exhaled deeply, his heartbeat staggered, holy shit. your dirty talk was making the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. he held onto you and let you continue to rut against him like a little puppy.

"aw, ya like that, max?" you asked softly.

he chuckled, "i have to say, usually you're more subtle. i didn't know that you liked my body so much."

you looked at him and said, "max, are you fucking kidding me? have you seen yourself. the first time i ever saw you without your shirt on, i almost came!" this was something you'd never admit sober, "big ol' hands, big ol' thighs, big ol' nose. all leads to one thing." you jabbed your finger in his chest, "and i know the answer to that!"

if this was a dream that max was going to wake up from, he was going to wish he was dead. but as he clenched onto your hips and let you set your own pace, he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

usually giving him a compliment was like having your teeth pulled. but right at that moment, your tongue was loose as you chased that orgasmic high you needed.

"just keep going." he panted, trying to keep himself together. and that you did, rubbing yourself raw against him.

you eventually hissed through your teeth as you climaxed in your panties. you wanted to cover your face from the rush through your system. you felt the sweat on your neck as you slowed down. you let out a few stray moans before you slowed down enough to a stop.

"holy shit." you panted as you rested your face against his shoulder. your fingers held onto the front of his shirt as you felt the aftershocks in your body.

he rubbed your back, "how are you feeling?" his cock was painfully erect in his sweatpants, but he wasn't going to try it push it further. not while you were in this state. he'd rather a painful erection then you getting hurt.

you pulled away and looked him in the eyes, your eyes were rimmed red as you nodded, "perfect, excellent, amazing. do..do you have any snacks in the fridge?"

he chuckled. you were painfully cute like this, all snuggled up with him. he knew come the next race you'd be getting in his face and challenging him at every turn. but at that moment, with you high as a kite both of the chocolate and sexual bliss. he ran his fingers through your hair and looked at your cute face. he said to you, "why don't you just lie down and i'll see what i have."

you giggled and wrapped your arms around him. you kissed him on the cheek, "you're a life saver, max!"

-

you woke up the next morning with a headache. it was a deep throb like a hangover but it still made you wince if you focused on it too much. you rolled over, away from the streaming sunlight and into max's arms.

"why did you let me take a whole piece?"

he moved his face closer to you and exhaled deeply, "because you're the most stubborn woman i've ever met." he pulled you closer to him, "give me five more minutes and i'll get you something for your head."

you pressed a kiss on his jaw. maybe he wasn't a total nightmare to be around. underneath the mask (or helmet) he wore, he was a caring man who wanted what was best for you. he even made you breakfast afterwards, but don't mistake it all for pure kindness.

come the dutch grand prix after the break, you two were going to go back to wanting to maul one another (and not sexually) <3

[disneyprincemuke]

in the name of friendly racing * fem!driver

a simple race on their scooters flips the entire paddocks upside down

pairings: liam lawson x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver

notes: hello everyone i know i haven't posted a vr piece and it's all because i couldn't fully grasp the fact that femdriver and logan are not together in this universe but i took a break from them and yes i'm coping well, but no i will not stop tearing up about their love story k? anyway, i think this is MID compared to other crack fics i've written but i'm trying i promise

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

she holds up the scooter in one hand, the other on her hip as she leans into the tablet in liam's hands. "what's the route again?"

"are you stupid?" logan asks.

"no, do you want to not join us?" she asks quickly, lifting her head to glare at the american across her. she darts her arm out and shoves logan back. "i'll disqualify you right here, right now. you wanna spend your afternoon in your driver's room like a loser like the rest of them?"

"he sent it to the group chat, how can you still not know the route?" logan scoffs, narrowing his eyes down into a glare.

"i'm just making sure!"

"relax," liam mutters, holding a hand up in an attempt to break up the fight that he's sure would happen if he doesn't interfere. "i'll disqualify you both."

"just tell me the route," mick sighs, shaking his head. he steps forward and tilts his head to try and get a look at the screen under the scorching sun above them. "no cheating, okay?"

logan huffs. "tell that to her."

she throws her head back and rolls her eyes. "god, logan!" she winds her arm back and darts an arm out to grab logan's sweatshirt. she bundles it up into her hands and tries to yank logan towards her.

"okay!" mick cries out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her away from logan. he carefully, finger by finger, removes her hand from grasping his sweatshirt and pushes her back. he then guides logan two steps away. "the race hasn't even started yet!"

oscar pops his head between the girl and liam. "are you sure you should be doing this?"

"of course," liam mutters, glancing at oscar. "why are you here? i thought you didn't want anything to do with us if we went through with this?"

"yeah, but i'm curious. so i know which places to avoid - i wouldn't want to get run over by road rager over here," he gestures to her and then at logan, "and mr. beating-(y/n)-is-my-life's-mission over there."

"she can't possibly be beating me at every single thing!" logan cries, throwing his arms in the air, and pointing over at her.

"sore loser!"

"okay, so we're starting here," liam points at where they're standing. "we start at williams."

"are you guys going to the pitlane?" oscar questions.

"no, are you crazy? do you want somebody to kill us?" mick scoffs. "i'd get my scooter rights taken away from me!"

"yeah," liam agrees with a nod. he throws oscar a judgemental stare, absolutely bewildered at the thought that they would be racing at the area where literal cars could be driving out. he looks back down at the ipad. "anyway."

"we zip between the racing homes," logan mutters, tracing the map of the paddocks that they'd pulled up from the internet. "and then we make a round around the interview table and the finish line is back here. don't forget to zip through the racing homes again."

"exactly," liam nods. "everyone aware of the rules?"

"you guys had the time to come up with rules?" oscar laughs. "seriously?"

"no shortcuts," mick says, turning his head to look at the younger girl. he grabs her wrist. "have you got your watch on so we can track the route everyone takes for the race?"

"yes. i'm a fair racer, above all," she scowls, retracting her arm from mick. "and we stop for everyone who calls us, yes? especially the fans."

"easy," logan nods, a smirk stretching his lips. "suddenly i'm kind of thankful nobody really likes me."

"what? don't say that," she grunts. "i like you. we like you."

"break it up, lovebirds. we are not friends, we're competitors," liam mutters. "you guys got the glasses (y/n) stole from seb's office?"

"i didn't steal them. we're borrowing them!" she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "don't break them - seb doesn't know i took them from his office."

"oh, i'm pretty sure charles would have let you borrow his if you asked," oscar whispers. when she turns her head to glare at him, oscar lifts his arms up to surrender. "but, you know. what do i know?"

"well i'm not sponsored by rayban - my glasses aren't here yet. i get when everybody else gets them," she frowns. "and, i don't wanna bother charles. it's okay."

"so you snuck into seb's office instead."

"it's not sneaking in if the door was wide open," she laughs, rolling her eyes. "duh?"

"ah, is that why you needed me to keep a lookout in the hallway?" logan says.

"shut up. i'm going to beat you," she mutters, pointing at logan with a threatening finger.

"okay, so are we clear about the rules?" liam puts the ipad down and looks around. "we've literally tried to make it as foolproof as possible. there's no way you guys can find ways to cheat, right?" he turns to her. "right?"

"i don't know why you keep looking at me - i'm a fair racer! you should be asking mick if he's going to be honest about this one!"

"why me? isn't logan desperate to keep the paper mache cup that we made three nights ago?"

"in my defence, i still believe i should keep it even if i lose because i worked on it the entire night. all you fuckers did was play overcooked and scream at each other in mick's hotel room."

"okay, shut up and race," oscar mutters, flailing his arms in the air to dismiss their huddle. "are you guys ready? can i start the race for you?"

"for someone who doesn't want to be a part of this, you sure are pushy," she mutters, turning on her heel to hop onto her scooter. "are we ready? apple watches and rayban glasses on?"

she takes the sunglasses that have been resting on the collar of her blouse and puts it on. she turns to her left and points at logan. "i'm gonna crush you."

logan pushes the sunglasses up his nose, looking ahead and doesn't spare her another glance. "sure."

"okay, okay," oscar cheers, clapping his hands. he reaches into his back pocket and reveals a red handkerchief. "turned your scooters on? everybody got their smart watches and smart glasses on?"

"start the race, cunt!"

oscar's lip twitches. "anyway. be safe, you guys. we have a race this weekend."

"i don't," mick smiles. "stay safe, though."

"start the race before i do it myself, bitch!"

"liam, shut the fuck up!" she shrieks, stepping off her scooter momentarily to whack him on the arm.

"god!" liam screams, his arm darting out to whack her as a response. "the race is going to start and you're not going to-"

"go!" oscar shouts, waving the handkerchief into the air. he darts to the side to get out of their way with a giggle.

almost immediately, logan and mick have already pulled back their handles, darting away from the williams racing home. she shrieks and shoves liam, causing him to lose his balance slightly, hops onto her scooter and drives away.

"oh, liam!" a deep voice calls. "i've been looking for you everywhere!"

"fuck's sake," liam sighs, shaking his head as he turns to see christian walking up to him. but he smiles as he is approached by the team principal. "yeah, christian?"

up ahead, she frowns to herself as she watches mick and logan racing head to head. there's no way to catch up to them on these scooters - it's simply not like an f1 car. she can only bank on the fact that someone, somehow, will stop them to give her some sort of window to pass them.

with the little number of people in the paddocks on a wednesday for the weekend proves that they should have done this early in the afternoon on friday. there could have been more obstacles and distractions for them.

if only the boys had listened to her.

she shrieks when she sees george flagging mick down ahead of the alpine racing home, forcing mick to come to slow stop. she screeches loudly when she passes mick, her hair being blown back by the wind and speed she's going at.

"thanks, george!" she screams, momentarily waving at the brit as she passes the mercedes pair. she can see logan ahead of her, speeding and manoeuvring around the crowd flawlessly by the ferrari home.

surely, somebody will recognise him and pull him to a stop, right? if nobody does, she can only hope that alex is somewhere in the paddocks wondering where his rookie has gone.

the race, objectively, is going fine for her. logan was momentarily stopped by a williams engineer. she passes them screeching, also thanking the nameless woman and waving at logan smugly as she accelerates her scooter.

when she does that, her eyes widen when she sees mick also passing logan. she has no idea where liam has gone, or if christian has even let him go from their conversation at the back of the paddocks.

she does get stopped, once, by susie who stops her to ask her a question. it was a simple question that she easily had the answer to and susie let her off in seconds. she excitedly presses a kiss on the older woman's cheek and quickly accelerates away, shocked that mick is suddenly riding next to her.

behind them is logan trailing shortly, and liam's conversation with christian is actually short. so behind logan is liam, held back by a couple of seconds only.

it's just that christian had overheard them whispering earlier that day about their race and he had lurked by the williams racing home to mess with his driver.

she, unfortunately, does get stopped another time, by a fan that was being brought around for a tour of the paddocks ahead of the race weekend. she grumbled under her breath when the three boys passed her: mick mimicking her shrill screech, logan passing her with his fingers in an 'L' shape, then liam simply ignoring her.

the race is short. suddenly they're all at the final stretch, now circled back at the ferrari racing home as they aim to make it to the finish line where oscar sits in a plastic chair, hunched over as he texts his girlfriend.

she screeches when she sees mick come to a stop right by the aston martin home. it's then questionable when she sees logan stop, and then liam. and suddenly she's getting flagged down by liam.

she rolls her eyes and ignores them, clearly being sore losers that she is now destined to win their little race. she goes right past them, slowing down slightly since it seems that she is the only competitor left in the race.

"(y/n)!" she hears a familiar accent. her eyes widen as she looks back, seeing sebastian with his hands on his hips, surrounded by her friends with the guiltiest expressions on their faces.

it all happens very fast. she had all intentions to slow down and go back to where they were, but she hadn't seen the rock up ahead.

if only she'd been looking ahead.

the front wheel of her scooter is caught against the stone, sending both her and the vehicle flying forward. "fuck!" she screams, her arms stretching out to try and break the fall.

"oh, my god!"

"that's going to hurt."

"are you stupid?"

"are you okay?"

she stays in her spot for a couple of seconds as she tries to digest the events of what just happened to her. one second, she had been on her scooter, the next she's knelt on the ground with her hands planted into the ground.

then it hits her: all of the pain from her fall.

she removes her hands from the ground and blinks rapidly, allowing the blood to seep from her now wounded palms. she feels it in her knees, surely scraping her favourite pair of pants when she had skidded against the floor. one of sebastian's pair of raybans is strewn not too far from her on the ground.

her scooter is ahead of her, which oscar is now bent over and pushing it upright.

she looks up, meeting logan's eyes with a hand over his mouth.

"it's not funny!"

"it's a little funny," logan shrugs before he bends down to meet her. "are you okay?"

tears immediately well in her eyes. she stretches out her hands and shows logan her injured palms. "i hurt my hands!"

"we can see that." mick is the next to kneel next to her, taking her hands into his. he moves her hands about and tries to assess her wounds. "we should get you back to your room and treat these."

"where are my glasses, you fucking- seriously, (y/n)?" she hears sebastian mutter. she lifts her head and watches sebastian pick up the pair from the ground and turn to her. "seriously? a race on the scooter i had to beg to get you?"

"it was liam's idea!" she cries, wiping her eye on the sleeve of her blouse. "he challenged me!"

"it was premeditated!" liam screams in an attempt to defend himself. "she said we would race once you got her scooter approved!"

"shut the fuck up!" she screeches, reaching out to push liam. "i told you not to tell on me!"

"okay, enough fighting," oscar sighs. he bends over and is the only one to think that she should not let her wounds be against the dirty ground for too long. "come on, let's get you all patched up."

"but my knees!" she cries, sniffling as she looks down at her scraped jeans. there's a small hole on both of her knees, the edges seeped with blood and small matching wounds on either. "i can't-"

"enough crying, drama queen," logan mutters, already hunched over and tapping his shoulders. "i'll carry you back. stop crying."

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicore @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @inejismywife @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @love4lando

[wannabespiderman]

Man vs machine

Hello! This is my first fanfic written in English so I'm slightly nervous to post this but I couldn't get this idea out of my head so... I hope you enjoy :)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Just an old man confused about modern technology.

.

.

.

You were walking past the living room door when a discontented grunt caught your attention. You took two steps back to crane your neck past the half-closed door. Bucky was sitting on the sofa, leaning over the living room table, which looked like a toddler’s table compared to him, his face illuminated by the bright screen of his new laptop that you’ve bought him not too long ago. His eyebrows were tightly knit together when he mumbled a quiet curse. You turned around, a curious expression on your face as you walked through the door.

"You okay, baby?" you asked and promptly sat down next to him. Bucky gave you an inscrutable look before turning his eyes back to the screen. “Where the hell do I find my emails?” he asked in frustration. A sudden laugh escaped you. You should have realized that a 106 year old man who had little to do with electronics would have some trouble with a laptop. Bucky gave you a displeased look with a slight, unconcious pout appearing on his face. “Click on the internet icon.” You spoke softly, willing to help. Bucky’s brow furrowed. “I don’t need the internet, I need my emails.” You stayed silent for a moment, slightly baffled by his words. Just last week you took the effort to set up a Google account with him and you were pretty sure he had paid attention then. “Bucky.” You said an amused huff escaping you. “Your e-mail is connected to the Internet. Just click on the icon.” Bucky clicked his tongue in annoyance to cover his slight embarrassment and went back to staring at the desktop. He was definitely taking his time, and at one point you doubted he knew what an icon was. “Need any help?” you asked as kindly as you could, though the sight of Bucky squinting his eyes like a real old man made your voice sound rather amused. With an exhausted sigh, Bucky leaned back against the seat back and rubbed his face, his shoulders visibly slumping. “You do it.”

You snort, but immediately apologize after he gives you an exceptionally grumpy look. “You can do it.” You said encouragingly, giving him a small smile. Bucky rolled his eyes, but relented and bent over the laptop again. You shuffled closer to it so you could see the screen properly, and the little orange and blue Firefox icon literally jumped out at you. You pointed your finger at it and looked at it again. “Just click on this one.”

You tried to be patient with him, really, and actually he did exactly what you said, but you couldn’t hold back the little sigh that left your mouth as he moved the cursor over the Firefox icon and clicked. Once. “Okay.” You mumbled, rubbing your eye. Apparently, you needed to be more specific. "This time you click twice." Another brief but piercing look from Bucky before he actually double-clicked and the browser opened. You sent a quick thank you to the heavens before instructing him to type the url into the search tab and cringed silently when he started typing with both of his pointer fingers. Right this second you decided to teach him how to properly type with all ten of his fingers later. A few more instructions later, probably a little more than usually necessary, he reached the Google log-in site.

“I assume you can handle the rest?” It was supposed to be a statement but your voice shifted into a question at the end.

He hummed quietly in affirmation, though his brow was still furrowed as if this whole thing was incredibly complicated which, to be honest… it probably was for him. You pressed your lips together, a slight sting of guilt coursing through you, your previous amusement and frustration about his hardship completely vanishing. One second you were quietly sat next to him and the other you had your arms wrapped around his bicep and your head leaning on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about laughing earlier.” You whispered, almost too quiet for him to understand if he weren’t a Super-Soldier and had enhanced hearing. “I know it’s new for you.” Bucky tried to shrug it off but you saw how his eyes softened when he tilted his head to look down at you. A sudden, quiet chuckle escaped him, making you quirk an eyebrow in curiosity.

“You’d think, as a Cyborg, I’d be better at this.”

[drdemonprince]

At one point he was down in between my legs, fingering me, and he made a throwaway comment about probably being Autistic. 

I leaned back, trying to relish what pleasure I was getting. “Well, we can talk about that subject, if you like,” I said vaguely, not really wanting to bring my professional life into things. 

He kept working away at my body, kissing between my lips and thighs. “Oh I know who you are,” he said suddenly. “Your book changed my life. In a way, I guess this is me thanking you.” 

I made him exit my body and we went to the kitchen to hash it out. It turned out he was a big fan of many things I’d written. 

“I’ve seen you around the neighborhood many times,” he confessed. “But you posted online that you don’t like when people come up to you, and so I always decided to leave you alone.” 

He said, “Your book is the reason I got divorced, actually. My ex-husband was a therapist, and when I showed him your book and said I thought I might be Autistic, he didn’t believe me. We have been separated for a year.” 

He asked, “Did I just make this weird, telling you when I did that I was a fan?” I told him that if he’d said it sooner, I would have never fucked him at all. 

People never realize that when they approach me, what they are doing is dragging me into work. It doesn’t matter whether I was at breakfast, or an orgy. I was just some guy standing there, enjoying his beer, but now they have made me the known scholar and author. And sure, my job might be meaningful, but that doesn’t mean I like to work. 

I tell my friend that I no longer want to be a public figure, and that I am planning how to make it all end. She tells me, “You’ve got to do what is the best for you, even if it’s something that the rest of us wants and can’t imagine giving up.” 

I ask myself, did I want this? It would be more flattering to say I didn’t, and play the role of the hermetic author whose work developed its own life purely because it was so good. But that isn’t true. 

From the moment I got a Myspace account in high school, I was publishing essays about my political views. I serialized multiple novels on Tumblr, guerilla marketing them with giveaways and custom-made images until they hit the Kindle sales charts. I have made memes, tried starting viral trends, coined phrases, and given hundreds of hours’ worth of media interviews. I write prescriptive nonfiction, for Christ’s sake. Of course people seek guidance from me. I offer it up! 

I have been strategic about how I dress, and my video backdrops, and retaken clips of myself speaking over and over again until they sounded right. I’ve hosted debates with my most vicious critics while I’m in the shower, started public beef with creators who had larger accounts than I did, and rushed to my keyboard when upsetting news broke, because I alone was possessed of the most correct take on it.

I wanted this. I didn’t know what this was, this internet fame I was chasing, but I did all I could to make it mine. I thought that by writing so much, I would one day be able to escape myself, maybe really feel connected to other people. Instead it has meant never being able to stop thinking about myself: how I am seen, what I am working on, how it all fits together, what comes next. It has also meant being spoken about, theorized about, and criticized, and developing a firm exoskeleton of disdain between myself and the world. 

I believe now that that it is immoral for any person to be listened to by ninety thousand other people. Holding authority and status like that runs counter to my anarchic ideals. I am not more important or correct than anyone. I should not be trusted to tell people which commodities to buy, which companies not to support, what to read, what to think, what words to use, or how to conduct their lives. 

All the other animals know there is no one way that a creature “should” live. There is only the way that it does. The world has no consciousness, no beliefs. It cannot pass judgment. We only feel so watched and evaluated because we have covered the planet with so many millions of our eyes. But we can stop performing dignified human goodness at any moment. 

I think that celebrity is an evil, corrupting force that pits the human instinct for bonding against itself. Instead of appreciating the singing of our friends around the fire, we stream Chappell Roan until stalkers break into her house. Rather than playing card games together, we stan Twitch streamers, filling up their chats with highlighted messages until they acknowledge us. We long to be famous novelists because then we would have the social permission to write, and we don’t have the money or time to enjoy the activity on its own. 

I wrote about Chappell Roan, stalker stans, and how turning art into content creation ruins the work, and the creator's life. It's free to read in full (or have narrated to you by the app!) on Substack.

[jjunieworld]

18. in the clouds ⸝ ˚⋆

↳ half written, half texts. word count: 1.4k

— SOOBIN’S POV —

soobin’s hands shook as he clutched his phone. he was sitting in the library of the parking lot reading his messages with taehyun over and over again. how did he know? how could he be so careless?

get a grip, soobin tried telling himself. it didn’t work.

he loved his friends deeply, he did. he didn’t know where he would be without them. but he also knew that if they found that he was actually in love with y/n, all hell would break loose. soobin already had to bite his tongue when they even mentioned her. it made his skin crawl the way they talked about her.

soobin wasn’t embarrassed by y/n, not in the slightest. if he could shout from the rooftops how much he loved her he would without hesitation. if he could spread it all throughout the internet for everyone to see, he wouldn’t think twice. in fact, he has already been trying.

a part of him was relieved that taehyun knew. it was one less person he didn’t have to pretend with.

soobin took a deep breath before making his way towards the door of the library. when he entered, he scanned the room for taehyun and found him tucked in the corner of the library. soobin sat in the seat across from him and said nothing. taehyun was busy writing something down in his notebook. he had multiple textbooks open and scattered across the table.

after a moment, taehyun looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. soobin furrowed his eyebrows. “so you still aren’t gonna admit it?” taehyun asked.

“like you said,” soobin replied, “it was obvious.” he sank down in his seat a little. he felt like his dominos were falling down one by one.

“so tell me about how it happened.”

soobin hesitated to answer. he really wanted to keep as many details about y/n to himself.

taehyun must’ve sensed his hesitation because he then added, “i’m not gonna tell the others. what you do in your love life isn’t my concern.”

soobin couldn’t help his glare. he bit on his tongue and looked away. underneath the table, he gripped the end of the jacket he was wearing. taehyun raised his eyebrows.

“that wasn’t a dig at her. i actually think she’s really nice.” taehyun spoke. “real pretty too, actually.”

soobin’s eyes snapped back to taehyun’s. if looks could kill, he was sure taehyun would be dead by now. taehyun laughed at him.

“so i’ve essentially been lying about her this whole time,” soobin finally said. taehyun nodded, motioning for him to continue. “she’s really amazing, and that date was the best date i’ve ever had.”

soobin went on and on until he realized he was talking too much. he looked up to see taehyun staring at him with a smile on his face, his head resting in his hands. his cheeks heated up and he was sure he was blushing now.

“i just really love her,” soobin concluded. he started playing with the zipper of his jacket.

“have you told her all this yet?” taehyun asked. soobin shook his head.

“i was gonna tell her on her birthday, but that may be too cheesy.” he had it all planned out too before sakura ruined his plans, once again. soobin sighed to himself. he’ll have to make the party work.

how does he even bring up the fact that he loves y/n? he couldn’t just bring it up in normal conversation. but it also couldn’t be some big display of affection in front of the whole party. soobin wanted it to be private, intimate, just between the two of them. he wasn’t worried about her not saying it back. she’s already been dropping subtle hints that she loves him too.

soobin’s cheeks heated even more as he thought about it. she loves him. she actually loves him. soobin had to keep himself from smiling at the fact.

“and what about the bet?” taehyun asked. soobin was suddenly and harshly brought back to reality. it felt like he got slammed into a brick wall. “and what about it?”

“you can’t keep it a secret forever,” taehyun said. “she’s gonna find out sooner or later. especially if she keeps hanging out around our friends. even if they do warm up to her, someone is gonna let it slip.”

soobin stared taehyun down. what was he insinuating? was he saying that if soobin didn’t tell y/n about that damn bet that he will? or that he’d make sure someone else would? soobin’s heart raced at the thought.

“what are you saying?” soobin demanded. taehyun raised his hands a little and sat back in his chair.

“i’m not saying that i’m gonna tell y/n. i’m saying that you’re in the clouds right now and sooner or later you’re gonna get hit and fall.”

soobin left the library as fast as he could like the devil himself was on his heels. he couldn’t think straight. his heart was racing and his hands shook so bad he had to clench them into fists.

he didn’t even realize he was at your door until after he started knocking.

you barely got to open the door before he pushed it open and his lips were on yours. soobin kissed you like you were the oxygen he desperately needed. like you were the hunger he was trying to satiate.

“what happened?” you barely got out before his lips were on you again. he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. but it wasn’t close enough.

“soobin…” you said, and pushed him away a little. you were both breathing heavily. soobin put his forehead to yours.

“i’m sorry,” he breathed. “i really missed you.” he just then realized how tightly he was holding on to you. soobin exhaled and loosened his hold on you.

soobin gave you another kiss before he pulled back completely. you were in pajamas and it was clear you had just woken up from a nap. your shirt rode up from the exchange.

y/n pulled soobin into her dorm and made him sit down on her bed. he saw the remnants of the uno game he left in the middle of. he wonder who won. he made a mental note to check your twitter later.

she stood in front of him, her arms crossed, as she waited for an answer to her previous question. he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer until she was standing between his legs. soobin looked up at her.

“i told you, i really really missed you.” y/n raised an eyebrow, but he could see her softening as her arms were already making their way around his neck. “mhm,” she mumbled as she leaned down. she brought her lips to soobin’s cheek and he felt the area heat up after they left.

soobin turned his head so the next kiss would be on his lips instead. you giggled at the sudden change before deepening the kiss. it took everything in him to not pull you closer and into his lap.

he was so close to it, his knuckles white from how hard he was gripping your hips, until the door to your dorm room swung open. jake and hueningkai walked in with snacks in hand, took a good look at the position the two of you were in, and stood in shock for a moment with wide eyes.

“oh my god!” hueningkai finally said as he snatched jake’s arm and slammed the door shut.

soobin looked back at his girlfriend and saw the embarrassed expression on her face. he was too focused on you to even think about what just happened with your friends. he was sure once it processed his face would be bright red.

he squeezed your hips slightly so you would look back at him. you gave him a sheepish smile and buried your face in his neck. soobin started placing feather-light kisses on the side of your neck.

“don’t be embarrassed,” he smiled against your neck as he tried not to laugh.

“it’s not funny!” you exclaimed, burying your face deeper.

masterlist.

summary: choi soobin has always been the popular kid surrounded by his popular friends. y/n… not so much. one night, soobin and his friends make bet that soobin can’t get y/n to date him in a month. unfortunately for y/n, they’re a hopeless romantic.

A/N: tell y/n to get in line

taglist: @imagineyour-kpopboy @gothgyuu @carengene @spooksh0wbabe (if your name is bold it wouldn’t let me tag you!)

— kipo <3

[qin-qin16]

My computer is possessed?! Oh, wait, it's just my out-coded skeleton boyfriend!

Summary: When some of your work in progress goes missing, you decide to start investigating whether your computer has a virus. That is until you realize that the few remaining works are of one character: Error Sans. cw: comedy, kinitoPET and creepypasta vibes, Error is an asshole and Reader is stressed, gn!reader, dark jokes about suicide, but nothing serious, we have a bit of jealousy Error, writer Reader…  note: I finally wrote down this idea from weeks ago lol and the divider is from @sister-lucifer (Part one) (Part two)

You would never forgive yourself.

Five hours of work. Five. And it all vanished with a simple power outage. The entire neighborhood was in the dark for hours — and when the power finally came back, everyone heard the lengthy stream of insults and curses you hurled at yourself when your computer screen went blank; there were no files saved in the cloud and no trace of everything you had written.

Your body glides over the wheeled chair as you slowly spin in circles, “Eu quero me matar…” You murmur, without any genuine or serious inflection in your words, even though deep down in your mind, there’s a certain desire to end the emptiness that lingers from your anger.

“Three pages… three damn pages…” You run your hand over your face, resting it on your mouth as you feel your eyes sting from the static white of the computer screen. “I can’t believe it.” You finish, still in disbelief over the unexpected blackout.

You know that old saying, “I’ll believe it when I see it”? Well, the problem was right in front of you: a completely empty Word document, except for a few notes saved before everything was lost. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe what you were seeing.

“I’m not going to write all that again! I can’t even remember the last thing I wrote!” you rant to no one but the lifeless machine in front of you, running both hands through your hair and tangling it with unnecessary force — leaving only irritation in certain spots on your scalp and strands of hair sticking out in every direction.

Settling into the chair — legs crossed and leaning forward like a shrimp — you start closing all the tabs left open on the computer, not caring at all about what’s saved or not. All you want to do right now is shut off that old piece of junk (that can't even handle an internet outage) and go grab something to eat. Maybe that would help you relax and distract yourself from this mess.

However, the large ERROR 505 flashing on the screen interrupted your ongoing stream of frustration. 

The damn title, accompanied by a series of codes that made no sense to you, was plastered on the last tab of your browser, just waiting to be closed. But even after you clicked the little red box three times — eager to shut the window as quickly as possible — the page stayed open. 

It felt almost as if it were mocking you. Almost…

“Perfect! Just what I needed!” You don’t hesitate to slap the monitor, taking out all your anger on the old machine. “Now even the damn Google isn’t working!” Your grunt is muffled as you bury your face in your hands, holding back the scream that desperately wants to burst from your throat.

“God, if you exist, why are you punishing me like this?” Your murmurs are heard only by the computer as it continues to mock your suffering with the bright white screen — and that damn ERROR 505 displayed at your face.

“Know what? Screw it, I don’t care.” With your hands thrown up in defeat, you finally surrender, tired and out of patience to battle this cursed error.

This is worse than when the Ao3 is down—no, I can't exaggerate like that, you think to yourself as you crouch in your chair searching for the charger’s plug. If this page won’t close on its own, then it’ll have to be forced; nothing beats unplugging the old computer directly from the outlet.

Which turned out to be a challenging task, not only because of your awkward and uncomfortable position in the wheeled chair, but also due to the mess of wires and cables under your desk. You didn’t even know which one belonged to your computer, let alone where the outlet was.

“Maybe it’s best to just yank everything and hope the outlet comes with it.” You go back to your original position, stretching your spine and letting out a quiet grunt as a pop resonates from your back. “I need to stop spending hours sitting in front of the computer.” Your grumble is nothing more than a hollow promise, unlike your spine, which was definitely promising to develop some kind of scoliosis.

“Okay, here we go— what the hell is this?” you exclaim, and even though your voice lacks any emotion — probably exhausted from all the shouting earlier — your jaw drops, matching the widening of your eyes as you see that the once flashy ERROR 505 screen has now changed to a completely different tab.

What had once been a white background filled with bold text was suddenly replaced by your Tumblr homepage... featuring countless fan arts of Error Sans scattered throughout your feed.

It wasn’t unusual for you to search for fan art and fanfics about him; in fact, the number of tags you followed with his name was far too many to count on both hands!

However, today was not one of those days. In fact, you had been trying to set aside your obsession with the glitchy skeleton to focus on other Sanses. Those three pages you lost forever were actually part of a fanfic about Cross x Reader that you had been working on for a few days.

So… why did the page load with this theme that you had been ignoring?

It doesn’t matter, I’ll just close this tab and—oh my God, what a gorgeous fan art! You quickly get distracted by the artwork on your screen, and without hesitation, your finger starts clicking rapidly on the mouse, liking and reblogging as fast as you can.

You must have been very tired not to notice the muffled sound coming from your computer — different from the noises it made when starting up or running a virus scan. No, no, this sounded oddly like a stilted laugh, as if the audio had been chopped into pieces.

But why would you pay attention to that? Computers couldn’t laugh, especially not at your half-closed eyes and the sentences you’d written incorrectly because you were sleepy…

Right?

Tagging the people who wanted to see a fanfic of this:

@snastheskeleton64, @moonpieandfries12345, @lostsoulsofdragon, @mrcatmario, @something-random1-1-blog, @joonebugg, @crunchontoast, @honeybubbletea33, @what-have-i-unleashed, @leafwateraddict, @sweethoneybear, @sleepy-batz

If you want to be tagged in part two, please let me know :D

[dearestro]

Heyyy love your work could I request maybe a james wilson x reader where they're trying to have children but she miscarries and like maybe their keeping it a secret but of course house finds out and is all supportive and them maybe like a happy ending where they do have a child

Tears and Fears

Warnings: Miscarriages, childbirth, innuendos, crude language, and angst. I apologize if I forgot anything!

Disclaimer: I know nothing about healthcare, diseases, childbirth, miscarriages, etc. Anything I have written has been found on the internet, so I apologize if it is incorrect!

Summary: After receiving some upsetting news, the reader and James are faced with a heartbreaking situation. But at least they have each other and just maybe...House?

Wilson's Pov

"Yeah...yeah. It's alright hun...I'll talk to Cuddy and see if I can get the rest of the day off...No, I'm coming to meet you...I-I love you..." I was still talking to my wife when House came in. "I'll see you soon. Bye." I hung up and dragged my hand down my face as I sighed in frustration, desperately trying not to break down. Not again.

"What's wrong? I haven't even started talking, and you already look like you want to kill yourself." House said as he walked over to my couch. 

"Nothing." I said a little too defensively. He quirked a brow at my seemingly unwarranted anger. "Look, I've got to talk to Cuddy so I can get someone to cover me, and I can take the rest of the day off. I'll see you tomorrow." I got up and started packing my things and headed for the door before turning around and looking at House. "Lock up for me." I said before leaving. After all, with all the pranks he's pulled on me throughout the years, there's no doubt in my mind that he already has a copy of my key.

I made my way to Cuddy's office. She was doing paperwork but looked up at me and smiled when I entered. 

"Dr. Wilson. To what do I owe the pleasure?" She said before a look of distaste came over her face. "Please tell me you are not here to try and convince me to follow through with one of House's harebrained schemes." I tried to smile, but it came out more as a grimace.

"Actually, I need the rest of the day off." Her eyebrows furrowed. "It's a...family...emergency." I tried to cover up the fact I started to choke up at the word 'family' by coughing and averting my eyes. She smiled sympathetically. 

"Of course. I'll get someone to cover for you." She nodded as I started to the door. "And Wilson. I'm really sorry." I nodded and hurried to the car.

After a long and grim car ride, I finally arrived at the hospital. 

"I'm looking for my wife? Mrs. y/n Wilson." The receptionist quickly directed me to her room. It took everything in me not to run when I saw the doors to her room. Upon getting closer, I picked up my pace and rushed into the room. She jumped at the sudden movement before looking at me. Tears streamed down her face, but once I met her eyes, we both fully broke down. I quickly knelt beside her and took her in my arms. "I'm so sorry, baby." I shook my head as she pushed hers into the crook of my neck.

"I was so close!" She cried as my heart wrenched at her words. 

"I know...I know sweetheart." I whispered as I stroked her hair.

"One more week! One...more...week...and the risk would've lowered to 2-4%." She shook her head, her face still buried in my chest. "It's not fair! I thought I did everything right..."

"It's not...it's not. You did do everything right it's not your fault. It's-it's just...bad luck." I could feel her tears seep into my shirt as my own fell into her hair.

Eventually, the hospital discharged her, not before offering their condolences. I asked her if she wanted me to pick her something up on the way home, but she just shook her head and continued to stare out the window. Clearly, we both had lost our appetite for today.

Once we got home, we sat for a second before I went over to her side of the car. We made our way into the apartment, and I sat her down on the couch. I sat down next to her, and she leaned on my shoulder as I held her.

"We-we can always try again." I rubbed her arm and kissed her hair, but she shook her head.

"What's the point?" She said she sounded defeated. "It's the second one in a year...maybe-maybe I wasn’t...meant to be a mother." Her voice wavered as she held back her tears. "Maybe it's for the best. I probably would've made a terrible mom anyway." She laughed bitterly. 

"No! No. You'd be the perfect mother! You're sweet, kind, caring, nurturing..." I tried to comfort her as we both cried. "We don't have to give up. I'm-I'm willing to try as many times as possible. All the time. I'll take off work, and we'll just-just make babies all week."

"Are you sure you could handle that?" She shook her head as she laughed.

"Well...maybe give me a few minutes between tries, but..." She laughed harder, her tears temporarily stopped. I smiled hearing her giggle even if it was at my expense.

"I really thought it'd work this time..." She smiled sadly as the brief happiness wore off. "After two miscarriages...the doctor said that your chances just keep getting worse and worse with each loss." 

"I know...but we can try all kinds of things. IVF, donors, adoption..." I tried to cheer her up, give her a little hope as I kissed her temple. 

"Yeah...I just...I really wanted to carry our baby. To feel them grow and kick and..." Tears started to stream down her face again. I sighed and rested my forehead against her hair.

"I'm sorry sweetheart."

The next day, I begrudgingly went to work. Y/n insisted that she'd be ok. I tried to stay in my office for the majority of the day but was called in and out for consultations.

I finally had a free moment in my office and went to call her when House barged in.

"Good, you're here. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought you were avoiding me." I rolled my eyes and tried to focus on dialing our home phone. It finally started to dial, but just as it began to ring, House hung up the receiver with his cane.

"House!" I shouted a little too angrily.

"Wilson!" He mocked. I sighed. "What is up with you? Trouble with the Mrs?" I ignored him in favor of looking over discarded paperwork. "So it is...what fourth ex Mrs. Wilson? That's too bad. This one wasn't totally awful." He continued to ramble on. "Did you cheat on her? She cheat on you? Stop 'meeting your manly needs'?"

"Stop!" I shouted, slamming down the files, finally having enough of his taunting. "For once in your life, can you just shut up? I'm tired and I'm frustrated! And don't even ask if I mean frustrated as in sexually frustrated!" He only stared as I broke down. I rested my head on the palms of my hands as I tried to calm down. By the time I looked back up, he was gone. "Jerk." I shook my head as I redialed my wife's cell.

House's Pov

At the sight of Wilson's pathetic breakdown, I left. Something's obviously wrong. However, he'd never admit it...at least not without being all emotional and crap. I rolled my eyes just thinking about it. 

I finally made it to Cuddy's office. I walked in on what looked like a meeting with the head of trauma. 

"Cuddy!" She rolled her eyes while apologizing to the doctor before she turned to me.

"House, I'm a little busy." 

"I'll take care of this." I walked in front of the doctor. "Thanks for your sub-par service. You're fired. Bye." I turned back to Cuddy. "See? You're not busy." She scoffed before dismissing him, apparently deciding she didn't want to fight.

"Ok then, House." She folded her hands in front of her before giving me an over exaggerated and forced smile. "How can I help you?"

"Glad you're so willing." She rolled her eyes as I ignored her blatant sarcasm. "Something's wrong with Wilson." Her face dropped for a second before she quickly fixed her facade.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Maybe you should ask him." She said as she quickly busied herself with files.

"Liar!" I whacked my cane on her desk, making her jump. "Tell me."

"It's not my business to tell, and frankly, it's none of yours either." I scoffed before heading towards the door.

"I'm taking the rest of the day off!" I said and quickly walked away before she could stop me.

Your Pov 

I had been curled up on the couch the entire day, eating comfort food and watching reruns. I had been intermittently crying throughout the day and just got off the phone with James. Even at work, he insisted on checking in on me. I got up to throw out the empty carton of ice cream when the doorbell rang.

"Coming!" I discarded the trash and quickly tried to freshen myself up by raking my fingers through my hair and swiping at the tear stains. I opened the door to be faced with the one and only..."House?" He pushed past me and let himself in. I closed the door behind him and followed. "Shouldn't you be at the hospital?" I asked as he sat down on the couch, put his feet up on the coffee table, and started scrolling through the tv channels. 

"How are you and Wilson?" I raised a brow at the question. House was never one for pleasantries. 

"Fine..." I said still suspicious of his motives.

"How's the sex?" I blushed a little at his bold question.

"Good..." He turned to me with his brows raised.

"Just good?" I rolled my eyes, becoming increasingly agitated. 

"I meant great, no spectacular!" I said sarcastically. I sighed. "What do you want House? I'm tired, and I'm frustrated." 

"Aha!" I looked at him confused. "Wilson said the exact same thing today." Oh. I sat down beside him and grabbed the bag of chips I had left on the table.

"Did...did he tell you?" I asked as I sucked on a chip, my eyes staying focused on the tv.

"Yes." I swallowed the salty snack before sighing sadly.

"I...I don't know what to do. We want a baby so bad, but...I'm not sure I can handle a third miscarriage." He sighed before putting his hand on my knee. I looked up at him, a strange, sorrowful, almost regretful look on his face.

"Well...third time's the charm." I smiled weakly at the odd but caring sentiment.

"Yeah. Third time's the charm."

It was late in the evening by the time James got home. House had left hours ago, of course not before eating us out of house and home and making me binge his favorite soap with him.

"Hey babe." He leaned down and pecked me on the lips. 

"Hi..." I said softly. He came back from putting his things away.

"Are-are you ok?" He sat next to me and held my hands. His eyes were filled with worry. 

"House stopped by." I look of shock and worry crossed his face.

"What...what did he want?" 

"He said you told him." I shook my head and laughed a little. "Told me 'third time's the charm'." I felt tears pool in my eyes.

"I'll be right back..." He kissed my hairline before suddenly standing up and storming out of the house.

Wilson's Pov 

I hated to leave her, but I was blinded by rage. House had once again meddled with our lives, and this time, I would not stand for it. 

I finally reached House's apartment building. I stormed in before finding his door and pounding on it.

"House! I know you're in there!" I continued to hit the door until he opened it.

"Hey buddy! Come in." He said cheerfully. "I assume the wife told you about my little visit."

"You had no right!" I jabbed my finger in his chest as he rolled his eyes and pulled me inside. I tried to protest, but he pushed me onto the couch with his cane.

"Sit." He then hobbled off and came back with a stack of papers. "After I left your apartment, I decided to do a little research." He slammed down the papers on the coffee table. "In these papers, you'll find the best foods, diets, sleeping and sitting positions, medications, etc. for keeping your pregnancy safe and preventing miscarriages. As well as the number of a competent OBG." I looked at him in shock.

"What?" 

"Oh! Also, here's a list of the best sex positions to use during pregnancy." He handed me a paper. "It's technically safe to do all kinds of sex as long as you don't have any diseases and your doctor doesn't tell you otherwise. Although if I were you, I'd just ask for hand and blow jobs so you don't have to do anything but still get to have that special happy ending." He shrugged as I still stared at him in shock. I quickly shook my head, knocking myself out of my trance.

"First off. I'm not doing that. Secondly, my sex life is none of your business, and thirdly...thank you...I guess?" I started to look through the papers. Some of the information we had already known but there were plenty of things we hadn't thought of. I reached the page of the OBG. "Wait. This is the top OBG in the city. And it says that an appointment is already scheduled." I looked up at him in disbelief. "We've been trying to get in with her for months. How did you-?" He cut me off.

"She owes me a favor." I furrowed my eyebrows as he rolled his eyes and sighed. "Just leave and go have hot sex with your wife." I rolled my eyes as he turned to walk towards his kitchen. "Oh, and try out position number eight on that list! Did that with a hooker once. She almost quit hooking after that, wanted to get hitched right then and there!" I sighed. He was incredibly selfish and strange but...he cared...in his own screwed up way.

I entered the apartment with the stack of papers. Everything was quiet. 

"Y/n?" I heard some shuffling before she came into view. I sighed and hugged her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left like that I was just-" She cut me off with a kiss.

"Mad?" I nodded. "When you left in such a hurry after I told you about House...well, I figured you must not have actually told him and that he had lied to me." Our foreheads pressed together. 

"Right...I'm still sorry." She stroked my cheek and smiled slightly.

"It's alright." She dragged me to the couch. "What are all those papers for?" 

"Right! House printed out all this information for us..." She took the pages and looked through them. 

"Well...these are certainly...specific." I looked over to see the paper she had was the one about the best sex positions for during pregnancy. I blushed a little as I saw the diagrams with explicit instructions. 

"That's-that was House's...idea. I figured we could just throw that page away." She laughed lightly as she continued to look through the stack.

"I don't know. They might be...fun." She continued to giggle until she suddenly stopped. "We have an appointment with Dr. Ryans?" She gasped in excitement. "How?" I smiled and shrugged as she looked towards me.

"Apparently, she owes House a favor." She quirked a brow. "I don't know why, I figured it's probably better I didn't ask." She laughed and nodded in silent agreement. 

"We should go to bed." I raised a brow and smirked.

"To bed or to bed?" She laughed and patted my cheek.

"The first one." I put on an exaggerated pout before getting up and following her.

Your Pov

It had been a few months since the second miscarriage. It was hard, but thankfully, I had James. Together, we slowly got through it.

Tonight, I sat in the bathroom. A familiar plastic stick sat on the counter. I waited with baited breath. My phone alarm went off, and I quickly grabbed the test. Positive! I screamed in excitement, and James quickly came running in.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" I showed him the pregnancy test. He grinned and picked me up and spun us around before grabbing my face and kissing me. "You're pregnant?" He asked the shock, still clear on his face. I nodded excitedly before bringing him in a deep kiss. When I pulled back for air, I saw the tears in his eyes, and I could feel my own start to fall.

"I'm gonna miss our other two babies." I said. I was elated to be pregnant again, but it was bitter sweet. I was still scared for the future. He nodded.

"I know. I know. But they're safe now." I cried as he stroked my cheek, our foreheads pressed together. "We'll figure this out...together." He said as if he had read my mind. I smiled. I couldn't be more grateful for these moments even if they were tinged with a little pain.

"There's no one I'd rather go through this with." 

[seiya234]

happy tauniversary

this post is kind of late, because i was out with my kid all day at the corn maze.

a lot has changed since we started TAU

ten years ago I had been in maryland all of two months. my then-fiancee and i had moved from texas, where we both had lived our entire lives. i was not only planning our wedding (in texas!) but i was also starting my ph.d.

to say that i had a lot going on would be a huge understatement.

i had just gotten into gravity falls via tumblr- shout out to whoever made a gif set from 'the hand that rocks the mabel'- when i ran across zoey's original two to three posts. to this day i couldn't entirely tell you why my brain seized on this au, other than it did and it immediately went into hyperfocus mode.

before TAU, i hadn't really written any fanfic except for some discworld au and some drabbles here and there. but a post about future niblings really inspired me and before i knew it i was writing.

i started messaging @zillychu a LOT and god bless their heart they humored me and answered back. after about a month of accumulated posts they created the blog and began to mod it with @homebeccer and @ghostfiish . There was a brief period where @zillychu was thinking about stepping back from the blog and because i was an extremely over eager beaver, i practically kicked down the door of their inbox and begged to be a mod.

the rest, as they say, is history.

i had absolutely zero idea that this would last ten years. when i joined, i had no idea that we'd have a skype channel and then two (two!) discords, that there would be a wiki, that there would be fanvids and tiktoks and cosplay and of course the literal terabytes of fic and art.

to this day, it still thrills me to no end that y'all make art and fic of my OCs. never in my wildest dreams as a tiny baby weeb would i have ever thought that THAT would be a possibility.

a lot has changed for me in these ten years. i got married. i recently got divorced. i had a baby, and now that baby is a big girl and in kindergarten. it took dont-ask-how-long but i finally got the ph.d and now shamelessly introduce myself as Dr. Seiya everywhere i go.

and i made friends. @haberdashing and @avafalls from our early days (hey habby and avagator!) @skia-oura sent me a beautiful baby kimono from their home in Japan and I still have the beautiful log and flower arrangement @oreramar made me one christmas. (the hot chocolate is long gone lol) i've enjoyed so very deeply getting to know @toothpastecanyon, @feferipeixes and @avespecora (sorry i missed the eclipse!) i almost got detained at the canadian border for @marypsue (spoiler alert, don't tell canadian immigration you're staying with a friend from the internet but you don't know their home address)

the blog almost got deleted. we've had mods come and go as life happens and moves on. the blog is old enough i've been able to see trends happen, and characters become popular, fade away... then coming roaring back again. i've personally told the mods two times that i was stepping back from the blog For Real For Real (for real this time) because life was catching up to me and I just wasn't as in to it as I used to be only to come slinking back like the dirty liar I am. i see in your notes all the time that you all have been reading this since you were tweenagers which ngl does make me feel the cold breath of the grave on my mid-thirties back but also warms my heart.

@transcendence-au changed my life, and for the better.

thank you @zillychu for making a random one off hc post that exploded into something i don't think you could have ever predicted.

and thank you all (yes, you. you in the back. i like your shirt.) for your support and your love.

[perfectlyoongi]

LONG-DISTANCE!HOSEOK who creates a scrapbook to give to you when he is with you. from complete pages with various clippings from books and magazines, to entire pages written with the most varied themes, Hoseok created a small book for you. pouring all his soul and love for you into the various pages, the black notebook quickly gained color and thickness, carrying on its white pages the hopes and desires that Hoseok shared with you. “i went to a museum and they had a map of the exhibition, of course i had to put it in my notebook. oh! and i bought these stickers, i think i’m going to put them on the cover of the notebook, what do you think?”

LONG-DISTANCE!HOSEOK who adopts a virtual pet with you. while browsing the online store, Hoseok came across a simple and adorable app that allowed the user to have a small pet — and the best part? Hoseok could invite a second person to be part of that experience. so, on call with you, you and Hoseok adopted your first pet: a small white duck named Sebastian who would forever be loved by both of you. “Sebastian wrote me a letter saying he was going to look for food. are you forgetting to feed our son?!”

LONG-DISTANCE!HOSEOK who sends you a little love poem every night. invented by him or found on the internet, there was no difference for Hoseok: every night, he would say goodbye to you with a small love poem so that you would go to bed knowing that you were forever loved by him. “today i read this poem from john keats and these lines made me think of you. ‘even so for ever shall she be/the halo of my memory.’ goodnight my love. may we meet tomorrow.”

LONG-DISTANCE!HOSEOK who has matching shirts with you. whether it was you buying or him, you knew you had to buy twice; with you being separated by long, painful miles of distance, you realized that you were able to hide that pain a little by dressing to match. in a way, you were a couple wearing couple clothes; yes, one is here and the other is far beyond, but you were still together and your clothes were proof of that. “i went shopping and found two brown shirts that i had to buy. yours has beige sleeves and the rest is brown. mine has brown sleeves and the rest is beige. aren’t they cute?”

LONG-DISTANCE!HOSEOK who always has a handmade gift ready to be delivered to you. Hoseok liked to send you gifts, even when nothing special had happened in your life. in fact, Hoseok found that spending hours dedicated to creating something that could be yours forever was more rewarding than buying something for you. Hoseok’s fingers poured out pure love, flooding every gift he made for you with all the devotion he felt for you. “yesterday i spent two hours looking at a tutorial on how to make a paper gallery. i’m already warning you that i gave up halfway through, so i turned my gallery into a little letter for you. i hope you like it when you receive it.”

LONG-DISTANCE!HOSEOK who took a photo of you when you video called for the first time and still has it as the wallpaper on his phone. when Hoseok saw you for the first time on a call, his heart couldn’t contain the happiness he felt. seeing you there, shy but radiant, was like having you next to him and Hoseok could only think about how lucky he was to have you. you were beautiful, even in your most relaxed and natural state, you were simply beautiful. and Hoseok loved you. and Hoseok wanted to keep that first happiness forever — that is, until he gains a new happiness when meeting you. “i’m sorry, but i’m only going to take this wallpaper off my phone when i can take a photo with you in person. until then, our first photo will always be on my phone.”

LONG-DISTANCE!HOSEOK who took him a while to find you at the airport when he came to see you. when Hoseok walked out of the arrivals door, all the nerves started to come to the surface. walking cautiously but as hurriedly as he could, Hoseok guided his suitcase through the airport, looking and looking and looking and looking — but where were you? oh, you were calling him. yes, he was there. how come you’ve already seen him? where are you? there. you are there. you are finally there. not knowing if he should put away his phone and take his bags, Hoseok stood still looking at you while his heart was beating hard and trying to command his entire body — what are you doing? run to your love! “i was so scared that you left me standing. but you are here. we are hugging each other. finally. finally. finally.”

[modanisgf]

028. A PEARL (WRITTEN)

wc: <1k

prev | next | masterlist

unfortunately for you, you felt so alone on your ‘date’ that you stayed in the rain for a while causing you to wake up sick. you felt horrible that morning, being sick and sad didn’t mix well.

you tried not to cry but you couldn’t help it, you thought you and hanni had finally made amends but apparently you were wrong. who would ever make their girlfriend wait for them at a date?

did hanni even love you?

thoughts about what hanni truly felt for you ran through your mind, until you decided to close your eyes again refusing to look at your phone. you hoped nobody would come by your house, especially not hanni as right now you needed anything but to see the girl’s face. you think you would breakdown in front of her, something she didn’t need to see.

you knew your friends had their concerns for you, but you hoped they’ve known you long enough now to give you some space before checking up. especially when it dealt with love, dating wasn’t easy as an actor nobody wanted to deal with the harsh reality of fame so when you finally found hanni you felt extremely happy.

you thought she would understand your problems, but maybe she just wanted to mess with you. but who really knows? all you could do was lay in your bed, reality setting in as you finally closed your eyes drifting off to a deep sleep.

—

you were awoken by a sudden crash, presumably downstairs. you got up from bed quickly, rushing down your stairs to be met with people in your kitchen.

“riki! you’re so damn loud!” hyein whisper yells, her voice getting softer as she noticed you.

“hi yn..” hyein says, giving you a nervous smile.

“how the hell did you guys get in my house?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“you gave danielle an extra key when she lived here for a bit.” hyein replies, to which you sigh.

“look, i love you guys so much but i really just think now isn’t the time.” you say, your friends looking at you with pity.

their looks did nothing to comfort you, just reminding you how real this situation was. you diverted your attention from them, looking through an open window to see the rain back again. it was like it knew when you were sad, coming back to make you feel even worse everytime.

“well, we made you soup!” danielle says, making you smile a bit.

“thank you guys. i appreciate it.” you say sheepishly, you were embarrassed they had to see you like this.

it had been a long time since you’d been heartbroken like this, only sunoo and danielle knew about your past relationships the two being your friends during it. you felt you could never find peace in love, but you tried to push those feelings aside putting on your best face for your friends especially hyein and riki.

you all went to sit in your living room, hyein turning on a show creating a quiet conversation between your friends. hyein and riki even whisper fighting, making you laugh.

for some reason your laugh comforted your friends, the group smiling whenever you did happy that their presence made you feel at least a bit better. you focused on the show, invested in whatever plot line was being solved now.

your phone was long forgotten, the rest of your friends also having theirs off for the sake of you. little did you all know, hanni wasn’t doing amazing either.

—

hanni couldn’t believe herself, she feel asleep when you wanted her to meet up with you. you weren’t answering her texts, or anything the only thing about you she had was hyein telling her to watch out on twitter, riki commenting and agreeing aswell.

she had to stop herself from tears, why weren’t you answering her? couldn’t you let her explain herself? hanni had never wanted someone more than you, your presence giving her nothing but happiness and peace. she hoped you didn’t think she hated you, but the possibility was strong. maybe you were just taking a quick internet break? the possibilities only ran through her mind at a even more rapid pace as each one passed on, making her feel crazy.

hanni was texting minji in panic, the girl on the other end doing her best to comfort hanni but nothing seemed to work. hanni valued you too much, and she didn’t know what she would do without you. she wanted a future with you, to see you walk down the aisle slowly approaching her with your eyes locked on hers. she wanted you two to have a house together, having a family of two cats and four dogs. okay— maybe she was getting a bit carried away, but the point is hanni had nothing but strong love for you.

she needed to get you back, no matter what she has to do.

your love went too deep for a simple misunderstanding to ruin it all, hanni swore she wouldn’t let it happen.

TAGS 🏷️ (CLOSED): @jayjj7 @haerinsloverr @aribunnu @masuowo @multiliker @winieter @sewiouslyz @edenzeepy @popasi @home2venus @ghstvr @technicallyimportantsweets @he------len @yukianism @yeetaberry127 @haechansbbg @linnnsworld @sixflame438 @emotionallyrin @gtfoiydlyj @inosfavgf @rvoulte @hotluvlet

a/n— next few chapters might be crazy guys writing sad stuff while emo is NOT a good idea..

[silverhypnos]

Sorry, a little rant

This is a tiny bit of a rant, but I struggle so hard to be cordial with other HxH fans or fans of media in general who constantly need a "moral" reason to dislike or like any characters.

I dislike Hisoka because his pedophilic nature makes me uncomfortable and on principle, I just don't like pedo characters. But sometimes I dislike characters for non-moral reasons. And I rarely like a character for moral reasons. And I don't always feel like needing to justify that.

But I would meet people who treat disliking a character as a performative way to brand themselves as a moral person. Not only do they need a moral reason, but they get so angry when other people like morally corrupt characters. They would vocalize and question the morality of a person just for liking villains. And the worst part about it is that they are so flaky and hypocritical about it. I have met a person who went out of their way to shit on me for liking the spiders because "They are mass murderers" but they seem to love Chimera Ants. As if they didn't kill a bunch of people... "Killing innocent people is wrong" except it's okay when Killua did it.

The "excuse" is that he is a child from an abusive household, but something tells me if Killua was introduced as an adult, you'd have a different excuse. Now I'm not saying liking Killua is bad, he's a well-written character, and I want him to grow up happy like the rest of ya. Obviously, the reason why you don't care that Killua killed those randos for nothing is because they are nameless randos. Had those two been a person that the viewer had time to care about, some of you might care. When you care about a character, if a character hurts them, you might hate that character. Likewise, when your favorite character hurt someone, out comes with all of the excuses. This is nothing new, every fandom is like this. I don't have an issue with people not liking the Spiders. (I only have a pet peeve when they do the blame game of blaming Chrollo for all of the Spider's crime but not the whole Spiders.) I get that most people who hate the spiders are a big Kurapika fan. I also like Kurapika a lot, but I also like Spiders a lot too. So I just choose to suffer. Likewise, if you project yourself onto characters, you are more likely to defend that character's actions. When you project a person you don't like onto a character, you are more likely to hate that character to an absurd degree. You're going to headcanon that character in the worst way possible, even if they aren't guilty of the thing you've projected them to be. I can't speak for everyone, but I like well-written villains, and I don't believe in justifying a villain's actions. I like to see a villain develop, and I like to see how the author handles the villain's downfall. I don't like characters to performatively display my moral standings. I don't want to argue with people about why it's okay for me to like villains. But a lot of people who love to show off how moral they are through the media they watch instead of like, ya know, donating to causes, working at facilities that aid the homeless, etc... (And yes, not to humble brag but I've done those things) Some of y'all can be so difficult to be cordial with. It's one thing if the person started to directly harass you first, but y'all don't need to constantly seek out people you don't like just to start an argument on the internet. Ignore the type of fans you don't like, not every disagreement has to be some dick-measuring moral competition. It would be healthier for your headspace too, constantly being angry isn't going to do you any good. Take care of your health.

[allwormdiet]

Arc 1: Gestation, Concluding Thoughts

Two days in the life of Taylor Hebert, with a bonus one night in the life of Danny Hebert. Let's break it down.

Right now, initial feelings are really positive. I like this arc, I get why people are in on this in such a hardcore fashion, like it's making sense to me as I'm reading it. The characterization is really strong, the A to B plot is cool, and the first fight scene was a fucking banger to open up with.

And like, shit, I get why Taylor is throwing herself into cape life, right? Civilian life is already such fucking misery for her, utterly alone and the only person who's theoretically in her corner is sympathetic but just as helpless as she is. Yeah sure, mortal peril, but if she had nothing to do I feel like the bullying would've killed her eventually. Death versus Lung is at least marginally more noble than death by Emma. And isn't that fucking bleak.

Looking ahead a little bit towards Arc 2 and I'm immensely curious how long it'll take Taylor to do cape stuff again. I feel like I'd need a solid month to process the whole "near death experience" thing and then spend time sweating over whether I even put the mask on ever again. Meanwhile I wouldn't be surprised if Taylor went back out in like a week, because she's a hardcore maniac.

It's also very interesting looking at this and considering the exact sequence of events that went through these chapters. If the bullies didn't wreck Taylor's notebook, or if Taylor took a different message away from its destruction, there might be one or more dead Undersiders right now, and to a lesser extent Armsmaster wouldn't both get credit for a major capture and also owe this rookie hero a favor. Both of those things are going to matter a lot, and it's, I dunno, some people would call that contrived but real life is so full of weird coincidence and happenstance I can buy this no problem.

...Honestly now I get why so many AUs that diverge before this point still include the Lung fight and the Undersiders and Armsmaster meetings, like yeah at that point it's contrivance but I'm not going to sweat an author too hard because they don't want to figure out how fucking dramatic the butterfly effect (hah, butterfly) would be on the rest of the story. Like yeah it's contrived, but that's a lot of work they'd have to do otherwise.

That aside, I'm gonna get back on topic and meditate on my current gripes. 1.3 was a legitimate low point in this arc with the description of the Docks and its residents and their circumstances, and the total clusterfuck of the Azn Bad Boys, which. By the by this is the last time I'm going to say the full name of that gang, ABB is shorter and is less embarrassing for everybody involved. Wall-to-wall racism, classism, and an utter lack of sympathy for the lesser-thans. Like we're talking about crack whores in the year of our lord 2011, or, they were written about in 2011 and I'm hollering about it on the internet in 2024. When this kind of thing comes back up (when, not if, I'm not that optimistic) I just hope I can work around it, like eating everything but the bruise on an apple.

To close this out, I'm thinking about the people in Taylor's life. Emma, a former friend turned bully, and her cronies Madison and Sophia. Pretty shallow characterization at this point, just that they're cruel to the point of hospitalizing their victim. Danny Hebert is supportive, but has all the strength of a sponge when it comes to holding up against the pressures that weigh on Taylor, and he knows it but he's not doing anything differently. The Undersiders, criminals who mistake Taylor for a criminal, but identify her correctly as a comrade and potential friend, who realize she was fighting for them and went to fight for her. Armsmaster, who offers her very genuine and very sought-after praise as an authority figure, and then leans on that authority to get what he wants out of a freshly traumatized and exhausted teenager.

Is it any wonder that Taylor takes the path that she does? Would anyone have it in them to be surprised if they could see all of this from a bird's eye view?

I wonder if Armsmaster ever thinks back about this night, lying awake in bed. If he ever wonders what he could or should have done differently, or if he couldn't have done anything to divert course.

I was talking to my girlfriend about something related to this the other night, actually. If it's worse in a tragedy for there to have been a chance to avert it all, or if it's worse for the end to be inevitable. Looking at Taylor, looking at Brockton Bay, looking at Earth Bet? I dunno. If someone had acted early, with knowledge and intention sufficient to actually provide aid, maybe it would've been enough, but hell. Maybe not. I don’t know which possibility is more damning.

...I get melancholy when it's late, but I don't think it'd be right to delete all that; it's how I'm feeling about the novel, and that's what this blog is for, so even if it's a bit dramatic it'd be self-defeating to pretend I didn't say it.

Arc 2... probably starts tomorrow, assuming nothing comes up. Glad to say I'm looking forward to it.

[theunsinkableship1]

DID WE MISS THIS?

⚠️DISCLAIMER: This is LUKOLALAND only. Skip this if you're not a shipper.

This is only my point of view and it is written with the following assumptions: 1 L and A are done or almost done, 2 L and N are endgame. Skip if you don't believe.

No harm intended.

I can’t remember the days when I was just living my own life; they seem so far away now that my thoughts are consumed by Lukola. Every now and then, a random thought pops up, today’s subject is Wordle. And here I am, overanalyzing everything about Lukola.

Nicola wrote this after her noticeable absence from the Emmys after-party: "I came, I presented one, I got too tired to go to the after-party, got into bed, and did the Wordle. Perfect day!"

Sounds interesting!

I was surprised by her absence, but I can understand it. She worked really hard before attending the Emmys, and she was at the pre-party. She might have felt overwhelmed by everything. As an introvert myself, I get that you need to recharge your social battery. Still, it surprised me. It was her biggest night yet, and I’m used to seeing her go all the way. But she’s human, and we all need to rest at some point. And she loves Wordle!

I’m not too familiar with the game, but I remember that she had posted something about it before. Today, I went back to look for it.

Wordle is a daily word game. Every day, the internet is greeted with a fresh word puzzle that can only be solved using a series of process-of-elimination clues. You get six attempts. Green means the letter is correct and in the right spot, and yellow means the letter is correct but in the wrong spot.

Let’s break it down:

Aloud: This could signify that something needs to be brought into the open, spoken out loud, or revealed perhaps Luke’s emotional turmoil or the unresolved feelings between him and Nicola. The fact that this word appeared as the first guess could suggest that Nicola, in this metaphor, already had an intuitive grasp of what was happening perhaps aware of Luke’s feelings for her that hadn't yet been vocalized or fully expressed.

Anvil: With the interpretation that “anvil” means something still being worked on, not fully matured, it could reflect Luke’s state of mind regarding his relationship with A and Nicola. Luke was likely still in the process of emotionally separating from A, and the relationship with Nicola had not yet fully formed, existing in a state of emotional tension, waiting to be shaped. It represents both the emotional weight of Luke’s decisions and the idea that something between Luke and Nicola was being forged but wasn’t yet ready. It’s an acknowledgement of the emotional process Luke was undergoing.

The yellow "L”: The fact that the "L" (Luke’s initial) is yellow further implies that while Luke was part of the equation, he was not yet in the "right place" for Nicola emotionally. It reflects his hesitation, his distance, and the fact that he had not yet made a full commitment or aligned himself with her, as he was still disentangling himself from his relationship with A.

Green "A" and "L" (A and Luke): The fact that A and Luke’s initials are "correct" in the Wordle puzzle could symbolize the public perception that their relationship was still intact or "correct" in the eyes of those watching. However, Nicola may be subtly suggesting that despite appearances, their relationship wasn’t right for Luke emotionally he was in the process of distancing himself from A.

"Solving in two guesses": This could be Nicola’s way of saying she quickly understood the real situation between Luke, A, and herself. It took only "two guesses" for her to see through the dynamics, possibly referencing how fast she came to realize that Luke's relationship with A was in the process of breaking down and that her own bond with Luke was growing stronger, even though it was still unspoken and unresolved.

In this light, Nicola’s Wordle post could be a clever metaphor for the emotional and relational dynamics at play: Luke’s distancing from A ("Anvil"), their unresolved and unspoken connection ("Aloud"), and how despite the appearance of "correct" relationships in public view, there was much more going on beneath the surface. It speaks to the emotional complexity of Luke's situation and Nicola's awareness of it.

In Nicola's point of view, "Wordle" could be a metaphor for how she interprets her relationship with Luke a puzzle she’s constantly trying to solve, where each guess brings her closer to clarity, yet requires careful thought and reflection. Just like in Wordle, she may feel like she’s navigating through uncertainties, making choices based on instinct or incomplete information, hoping for alignment. Each interaction, post, or moment together might represent one of her attempts to get the "right answer," revealing more about her feelings and connection with Luke.

Now I have a few questions for you:

Did Nicola ever mention that she solved a wordle in two guesses?

Was this before or did it start the chaos week?

Could wordle be a metaphor for something /someone during the Emmys?

We know that Nicola has a good game, and she knows that we love to play.