#I lied I'm posting this NOW instead of next week

[starstruckbyacomet]

Goodbye for Now

Almost 2 months ago I posted a list of possible hurdles that Oliver had warned us about (link):

It's possibly because of something from Tommy's past (we might get a Tommy Begins of some sort).

It possibly would happen through episodes 8x05 and 8x06.

Buck will go to Bobby, Maddie, and Eddie for support during that period.

Buck might find out about Tommy's past (being a racist and mysoginist a-hole) and couldn't accept it, or

Tommy might meet Carla. Carla might tell Buck that Tommy had lied to Abby and used her as a beard in the past. Abby was hurt badly because of it, and Buck couldn't accept it.

Buck might break up with Tommy.

Buck might try to date another man or a woman (if they want to emphasize that Buck is bisexual, not gay).

When I made the above list, I half-jokingly wrote down the worst posssibilities I could think of. The purpose of my post back then is to prepare other Tevan shippers who at the time had doubt about the relationship. I told them that grown-up relationships had all sorts of challenges, including break-ups. I also told them to watch Disney Princess movies if they couldn't handle it.

Who knew that almost 2 months later I have to swallow my own pills?

As contradictive as it sounds, I'm not happy that my predictions come true, including the possibility of Buck dating men & women again (prediction #7) which could happen based on interview with Oliver Stark (link)

Will Buck and Tommy make up?

Negative sign:

There are two interviews with Lou which I still refused to read, because the writers used to be Buddie baiters. But according to fans who have read it, the break up seems final.

Positive signs:

A)) 9-1-1 official Instagram account wouldn't follow Lou in the first place if he wouldn't stay for long term. Last time I check, 9-1-1 account still following Lou.

B)) Things that I wrote in my previous post still stand (link).

Tim and Oliver has said they wanted Buck to get out of the relationship hamster wheel and have a steady meaningful one instead.

Unlike Abby, whom they broke up with Buck because Tim had difficulties in writing her interaction with other 118 family members, Tommy has known most of the 118 family even before Buck does. There is no difficulty in making scripts where Tommy interacts with other 118 members without Buck's presence.

And the most important reason is: THE RATING IS HIGH when Tevan relationship is going strong.

My conclusion: There are 2 options:

The break-up is only temporary, to spice things up. Unfortunately, the timing is really bad because it is aired after the fuck-up US election result 🤦.

Tommy is moving to the new 9-1-1 spin-off, which probably located in Hawaii (link). If this happens, the break-up might be permanent, but it will be good for Lou's career.

What's next?

Although I think Tommy will come back in the 9-1-1 universe, I'm still upset. The 2nd term of Trump and Tevan's break-up happened within the same week! WTF??? I refuse to deal with both at the same time.

This is a list of what I will and will not do, and what I've done:

I will not harrass Tim Minear, Oliver Stark, or even the show on social media. I will not post my disappointment on unrelated social media contents. We have experienced how annoying it was when toxic Buddie fans did it. I refuse to do the same. I suggest other Tevan fans too. We are better than that.

I have unfollowed all 9-1-1 related social media accounts, both official and not. Yes, it is included 911bts and 911cast Tumblr accounts. I think this is a healthy way to voice my disappointment and to maintain my mental health.

I will stop watching the show until Tommy is (or, is officially announced to be) back on screen. The only exception will be when they show Bathena's new house for the first time, because I've been waiting to see it. Other than that, just no. Not even when Eddie reunites with Chris, if that happens before Tommy is back on screen. This step might even save me a few bucks, actually 😅.

I will stop engaging with 9-1-1 related contents on the internet. I will not read any articles about the show. I will not comment, post, reblog or do anything with contents about 9-1-1 on the internet.

I will stop reading 9-1-1 fics because I never comfortable following ships which are against canon. That's why I don't ship Buddie. And now that Tevan broke-up, I cannot engage with AUs where they are still together.

If you think Tevan will make up, why do you quit the show? Because:

I consume entertainment contents to be entertained, not to be depressed. I used to skip sad chapters on novels, and only read them when I'm ready. Buck without Tommy is a sad chapter for me, so I skip it.

This is my way to voice my disappointment in a healthy way. Things that matter the most for the show are rating/viewership and rating/viewership-related metrics. My actions may not have significant impacts to the show, but I am satisfied, nonetheless. Especially, after Oliver's comment that he has actively asked Tim Minear to 'Let Buck F–k' men and women (link). His ask is not only a regression to slutty Buck 1.0 (which we thought he has grown out of), but also strengthening the stereotype that bisexual people are easy to fuck around. A stereotype that a lot of bisexual people want to shred.

Tim Minear and Oliver Stark have the right to make the story as they see fit. This show is not customed to my preference. I'm very much aware of that. This is a "love it or leave it" product. So, I choose to leave it. For now.

To my followers: As I mentioned in my account, you can unfollow me. I use Tumblr as a scrapbook, not to gain followers. I was actually surprised and felt a bit guilty when people start following me, because I don't create arts, gifs, or fics. So, feel free to unfollow me. No hard feeling.

To other Tevan shippers: I know this is beyond disappointing, but please keep your online behavior in check. Please keep in mind that if you post your disapointment in social media, toxic Buddie shippers will eat you alive. Even if you don't, Buddie shippers will be gloating all over the internet. If you can't handle it, I suggest to forgo any interactions in 9-1-1 social media, at least temporarily.

Special thanks to my fellow Tevan fans and the lovely Buddietommy multishippers whom I've met during this journey. I hope we'll meet again. What a roller-coaster ride.

Now, back to Disney Princess movies... 😂

[qqueenofhades]

I think the Aaron Sorkin fic people are writing about the convention to be extremely silly. It's going to be Biden. And if Biden's health takes a downturn and he feels the need to step down its going tk be Harris. This fantasy where we skip over her to whip up two random white guys(or like maaaybe Witmer) and somehow cruise to victory instead of fragmenting the party months before the election is simply not going to happen.

Look, I'm just saying, I got an email from the Biden campaign this morning where they seemed pretty darn happy with the actual (i.e. not-bloviating media) results of the debate: $38 million raised in 4 days ($30 million from individual small-dollar donors), 10K new volunteers in a week, 3x surge in campaign volunteers for battleground states, essentially no change or even a modest boost in the polls. So I think at this point, we can cautiously conclude the following things:

The debate looked bad for Biden, perhaps, but doesn't seem to have hurt him nearly as much the incredibly bad-faith BIDEN NEEDS TO STEP DOWN NOW takes being pumped out by the NYT and its other compatriots would suggest. Especially when these same media outlets have been gleefully sabotaging Biden at every turn for years already and whose fake-sanctimonious hand-wringing "for the good of the nation" pieces honestly should get them dropped into Superhell for Bad Journalists;

Biden went to Raleigh NC right after the debate and gave a fiery rally speech that was very well received. Now, I don't know why we didn't have that Biden at the debate, but it was the same night and there clearly was not any "cOgnItiVe dEcLinE" happening there (also Biden has a stutter and has for literally his entire life, and had a cold on debate night, so it was just an unfortunate confluence of factors)

There are very few actually undecided voters in this election (once again: HOW???) and those who tuned into the debate were largely already convinced of which candidate they were voting for and this didn't do much to change their minds. Just like, you know, pretty much every other debate in the history of presidential elections.

Ordinary voters, and not mainstream media outlets with BIDEN IZ BAD goggles clamped over their eyes, were able to see Trump's insane Gish gallops, lies, and full-blown dementia; this isn't going to get any better for him when he's already lost 20%-25% of GOP voters in every state primary and still is going to be sentenced in his criminal trial;

The D.C. political elite screaming about how Biden should step down (FOUR MONTHS BEFORE THE ELECTION) and leave the Democrats to start from scratch with some Star Chamber-selected candidate with no money and no incumbency record and no organization apparatus and a divided party are either fucking weapons grade morons or working secretly for Trump, because that IS in fact the best way to lose the election;

Such speculation seems to fall chiefly on Gavin Newsom, who (to his credit) has shut down any and all suggestion that he should try to step in and take the place of an incumbent who has won every state primary with 90% or more, because he's remotely sane and understands that this year is too important to fuck around with;

I've somehow never seen any suggestion that Biden should step aside for the duly elected (brown, female) Vice President, because everyone seems to think some Young Miraculous White Guy is coming and/or should step in;

All this while SCOTUS is clearly so confident of Trump getting back in that it's willing to grant him Absolute God King status pre- and post-emptively;

Yes, Biden needs to up his game before the next debate (though that's on Fox News iirc, blargh), but I think it's far enough post-debate that we can say it was bad but did not sink him, and if anything, reinforced the fact to many ordinary, non-brainwormed voters that Biden is old (which has been the number one chief theme of news coverage for four years and is no surprise to anyone) but is a decent and principled man doing a good job, while Trump is an absolute gibbering insane orange shitmonger fascist. I don't think he did himself any favors in that regard.

....anyway. The point is, do not be fucking insane people, Biden is not going to step down and frankly shouldn't, don't read the NYT (as noted, they've openly admitted to sabotaging him for personal ego reasons so I don't know why the hell anyone would listen to what they have to say about him), this is still an eminently winnable election, and let's go get those motherfucking fascists. I want Trump in jail and all of SCOTUS and the MAGAGOP fucking crying over it because they fucking suck. Let's go.

[lucy90712]

Hey so for Jude Bellingham can you write like Jude cheating on reader, he is very distant with her and she tries to make plans or asks him things like how has ur day been but he either just gives her blunt replies or just completely ignores her. Reader finds out he cheated on her via his phone and she confronts him and she admits it. Then reader leaves him and moves on with someone else (not a footballer just someone random) and Jude regrets what he has done but it is too late. Like pure angst and please make it long! Thank you!

A/n: the timeline on this doesn’t really work but just ignore that

Part 2

Sitting in a restaurant alone waiting for someone to show up is embarrassing. It's even more embarrassing when people know who your boyfriend is and are very clearly judging you and thinking about what might be going on in your personal life. Then the most embarrassing part of it all is having to leave after sitting there for an hour. 

No text no call and no answer. After getting home from the restaurant I stayed up for as long as possible to try and wait for Jude to come home so I could ask him why he didn't show up to the date he planned and invited me on but by 3am he still wasn't home. The next morning he wasn't in bed but he had clearly been home and then left for training but he still hadn't even read the texts I sent him last night. He did post on his Instagram story which explained where he was, he was at a party with all of his friends. I'd love to say that's the first time he's done this but it isn't in fact he's done it countless times in the last few months. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Valentine's Day

Two hours ago I got ready in a cute dress and did my makeup ready to go out to dinner with Jude. He's been so busy recently so we haven't spent much time together but he promised me we'd spend Valentine's Day together, he got us a reservation at my favourite restaurant and told me to dress up. That's exactly what I did now I'm sat here still waiting for him to get home two hours after when he said he'd be home. 

It hurts to be left just waiting I was looking forward to tonight and getting to spend some time together as I've missed having him around. He made this move to Madrid out to be the best thing for us but ever since things just haven't been the same. He's always busy and when he's not he chooses to spend time with his teammates instead which I understand but at the same time he's neglecting me and our relationship. I tried to bring this up but he shut me down and promised to spend more time with me which is how we ended up with this date but clearly it's not that important to him. 

Close to 3 hours later Jude finally came home and looked at me incredibly confused when he saw me all dressed up. 

"Where are you going?" He asked 

"On a date with you remember you said we would go out for dinner because it's Valentine's Day" I said 

"I'm so sorry baby I completely forgot this week has been crazy I promise I'll make it up to you another day but I'm so tired is a movie night instead ok" he said 

"Yeah its ok" I lied 

Birthday 

As always I woke up to an empty bed and Jude having left for training. Today isn't any normal day though it's my birthday so all my friends are coming over and we are going to go out for lunch together then hopefully Jude and I can do something together this evening even if it's just watching something together on the sofa. When I grabbed my phone from my bedside table I had loads of messages from friends and family wishing me a happy birthday and my social media was filled with edits done by Jude's fans which were all so sweet. The only notable missing thing was a text from Jude but that's ok he might've been running late and forgot. 

I forgot about Jude as soon as my friends arrived as they all spoiled me far too much but I had so much fun with them. It was nice to be distracted from real life and stop worrying about when Jude will be home, if he will remember it's my birthday or if he still cares about me at all. Once I got back home Jude's car was already in the driveway so I smiled and happily made my way inside to see him. I wasn't expecting Vini and Eduardo to be over but there they were sat on the sofa playing video games with Jude. 

"Hey y/n happy birthday" Vini said 

"I didn't realise it was your birthday Jude didn't mention it but happy birthday" Eduardo said 

"Thanks guys" I said 

"Where have you been babe?" Jude asked still not saying happy birthday 

"I was with my friends they took me to lunch" I said 

"That sounds fun" Jude said going right back to his game 

His friends tried to leave saying he should spend time with me but he said it was fine and that I wouldn't mind so they stayed. While they all sat down stairs having more fun than I was I did some work with tears streaming down my face. My own boyfriend doesn't care about my birthday his teammates cared more than he did. 

Anniversary 

"Happy anniversary love" I said when I found Jude in the kitchen this morning 

"Happy anniversary" he said 

I tried to give him a kiss but he dodged it and went to start packing his things as he has an away game later today so he's leaving soon. 

"I'm sorry baby I've got to go I'll see you later though" he said as he left leaving me all alone yet again 

~~~~~~~~~~

Today is a day I always like to forget. Both of my parents died in a car accident two years ago today so it's always an emotional day for me and my siblings, we would like to spend it together to distract ourselves but as I'm in Madrid we can't do that. Instead my friends invited themselves over so that I'd have someone with me which made me feel so much better. They came over early so early that Jude was still here as he hadn't left for training yet. He was doing his own thing as the girls all sat with me and let me get out all my emotions now by telling them memories I have with my parents. 

"You know they'd be so proud of you" one of my friends said 

"I just wish they were here to see all the things me and my siblings have done all thanks to their constant encouragement" I sniffled tears still falling down my face 

"Why are you crying babe?" Jude asked as he walked down the stairs 

"Just thinking about my parents it's the anniversary of their death so I'm just a bit emotional" I said 

"I'm glad the girls are here to make you feel better then I'll see you later ok" he said 

With that he left and my friends all looked at me with an expression I didn't quite understand.

"How long has he been like that?" My best friend asked 

"Like what" I questioned 

"Like you don't matter he didn't even hug you before he left even after you told him why you were upset which he should know anyway dates like this are important for partners to remember" she said 

"I mean it's been a good few months he missed our Valentine's Day dinner he didn't wish me a happy birthday until like 5pm and we didn't do anything on our anniversary" I said finally thinking about how badly he's been treating me

"Girl he doesn't deserve you he's taking you for granted and you don't deserve that" one of the girls said 

"I hate to say this but you need to break up with him clearly he's given up on your relationship and now I might be wrong but wrong but it seems to me like he's found someone else" another said

They were right for months now I've been at the bottom of his priority list and he's nowhere near the Jude I used to know and love. There is no affection there anymore it's like the love we once had is gone. He also has definitely been distant and he's never home so there is a possibility that he could be cheating on me. That's a thought that I'd put in the back of my mind and didn't want to think about but now that someone else that has mentioned it I can't let the thought go. Whether he's cheating or not things definitely aren't how they used to be and I need to get out of this relationship before it's too late. The girls all offered their support and said I can stay with them for as long as I need which gave me the confidence to actually talk to Jude later today. 

When Jude arrived home all the girls left and they wished me good luck which I definitely need as I'm nervous to actually have this conversation even though it needs to be done. Jude went straight to get in the shower so I decided to look at his phone because he told me the password but I have never used it as I trusted him at least until now. It took just seconds of looking for me to find texts between him and this one girl who he had clearly been seeing for months now. He kept saying he would break up with me but the time wasn't right yet and that he wasn't in love with me anymore which hurt to see. I wanted to cry but I held back my tears and instead just sent myself screenshots of everything and then deleted the evidence so he wouldn't know that I knew. 

After his shower Jude took ages to come back downstairs but when he finally did he was looking at his phone and smiling it made me wonder if he was talking to her the girl he'd apparently fallen for. He quickly noticed me staring at him and he just stared back not having a clue what was going on. 

"Jude we need to talk" I said 

"Oh ok is everything alright?" He asked 

"I'm just gong to say it I know what you've been doing and don't lie to me I have screenshots I just want to know when you fell out of love and why you did this instead of just ending things" I said barely holding back tears 

"I don't know it all just happened I'm sorry I should've handled this better I didn't want to hurt you but clearly I haven't done a good job of that" he said 

"Yeah you really have hurt me I should've known when you forgot about our valentines reservations but I was foolish and believed that you were just busy now I know you were with another girl" I said 

"I'm sorry" he said 

"I don't believe you Jude if you were sorry you wouldn't have let this go on for so long it's safe to say we are over I wish you well but please don't try and contact me again I need to just move on" I said 

With that I gathered my things and just left. I left my key, the memories and what felt like half my heart but it had to be done I had to get out of there before I got hurt any more. It's time to move on and start a new life with people around me who truly care about me. 

~~~~~~~~~~

1 year later 

"Come on amor let's go" Carlos called from downstairs 

"Coming" I said running down the stairs 

"Oh wow you look gorgeous" Carlos said 

"Thank you you look good too" I said 

He kissed my cheek and grabbed my hand so we could head out to the car that was outside to pick us up. Just a few days ago Carlos won the French open so we are going out to celebrate. I met Carlos not long after I broke up with Jude I wasn't even looking to date but I just happened to meet him on a night out with my friends and we just clicked. He understood that I wasn't ready to date properly but he didn't give up on me so when I was ready we went on a date and the rest is history. My plan definitely wasn't to date another athlete in fact I wanted to just have a normal life and date a normal guy but I couldn't just let Carlos go and I'm glad I didn't. We have been together officially for 6 months now and they have been the best 6 months of my life he always treats me right and he makes it known how much he loves me. 

Carlos has a lot of friends in Madrid so he decided to come here and celebrate his win with me and my friends as well as his before he goes back home to be with his family. There wasn't really any time to prepare anything so we are all just meeting at a club in town that isn't just open to the public so there shouldn't be lots of people there. All our friends were already there when we arrived as we got caught in a bit of traffic but they didn't seem to mind our lateness they congratulated Carlos on his win and we all went inside. 

As we walked down the stairs all my friends turned to me at once and I wondered what was going on for a second until I saw what they had seen. Jude was right there along with a few of his teammates. I haven't seen him since our breakup which is somewhat of a miracle seeing as I still live and work in Madrid and he has become part of the city. I knew one day we'd meet again I was just hoping it wouldn't be in a day like today I don't want to be thinking about him or to talk to him while celebrating Carlos as tonight shouldn't be about me or my past relationship. Carlos knows everything that happened so once he saw Jude his hand reached for mine and he gave it a comforting squeeze which made me feel a little bit better. The thing is I don't miss Jude at all I'm so much happier now but what he did still hurts me so seeing him for the first time since is a bit painful. 

"We can go somewhere else if you want" Carlos said 

"No it's ok tonight is your night plus he shouldn't affect my life now that's the past you are my present and future" I said 

"Ok as long as you're sure but you are sticking by my side all night" he said 

Jude's POV

"Is that y/n?" Vini asked 

Him saying that caught my attention so I looked in the same direction as him and there she was with all her friends and a guy by her side. I recognised the guy as Carlos Alcaraz the tennis player who just won the French open and a the guy y/n has been dating for at least the last few months. I found that out when late at night after we lost a big game I stalked her Instagram and saw a photo of them together on her private account that she forgot to remove me from. Since that night I have kept an eye on her Instagram I usually check it at least once a week to see what she's been doing and how happy she is without me. 

Since the night that she broke up with me I regretted making all the dumb choices I made that led to that point. Within days I broke things off with the other girl I was seeing and I have been alone ever since I just can't bring myself to see anyone else because they aren't y/n. It sounds stupid because I'm the one that ruined everything I'm the reason she's with Carlos and not me but she was the one I just didn't realise how much I loved her until she was gone. My mum has always told me not to take things for granted as once they are gone you'll realise their true value and that's exactly what I did with y/n I didn't realise just how important she was to me until I made some stupid decisions and let her go. 

I watched her with Carlos for a while and she seemed genuinely happy which made me realise that she hadn't been that happy with me for a long while before we broke up. It was clear to see that she loved him and I could tell that he loved her too because he looked at her the way I did when we first got together. It hurt to see her so happy with someone else because I know I could've had that but now I won't get to share any moment like that with her ever again. I deserve everything that has come to me I made bad choices and as much as I regret them now it won't change anything. 

I have to let her go because for her to be happy I need to not be in her life as much as that hurts. They say if you love her let her go and that's what I need to do let the one go because as much as she might've been the one for me I'm not the one for her. 

[starsainzjr]

Award Season

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x hair stylist!reader Faceclaim: Jaylen Barron

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yourusername Salon de Platine, Monte-Carlo

Liked by kristin_ess, dakotafanning, charles_leclerc and 31,027 others

yourusername Last minute award season prep!

View all 7,291 comments

kristin_ess So you're setting up your station next to mine right?

yourusername You realize the amount of chaos this would cause, right? dakotafanning Yeah but fun chaos

amandlastenberg When I tell you I screamed

yourusername When I tell you I can't wait

charles_leclerc Do I get a spot in the chair?

yourusername Of course you do, mon trésor charles_leclerc 🥰

yn.wag16 Patiently waiting for mother to give us Charles red carpet content

bananas_for_leclerc Pls give us the red carpet content 🙏

charles_leclerc

Liked by yourusername, pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 728,474 others

charles_leclerc Rest and recharge before the crazy

View all 15,203 comments

pierregasly YOU LEFT WITHOUT ME THIS MORNING TÊTE DE BITE

charles_leclerc You were late, I have a beautiful girlfriend, what else was I supposed to do? yourusername Mon trésor, you make me blush ☺️

yourusername Calm before the storm. No one I would rather whether it with

charles_leclerc I love you so much, mon cœur

yn.wag16 We are going to get FED this winter

lechairs_love What I wouldn't do to be on a yacht with Charles yn.wag16 We can only wish to be Yn

bananas_for_leclerc I'm on the floor, no one talk to me

yourusername Los Angeles

Liked by charles_leclerc, amandlastenberg, kristin_ess and 34,193 others

yourusername Award season's here! Next stop: Oscars

View all 2,106 comments

dakotafanning I owe you my LIFE

yourusername Girl, I have never seen that many broken bobby pins

kristin_ess Coffee. Immediately. Now.

yourusername AMEN charles_leclerc I'll buy, come on ladies bananas_for_leclerc Charles is fr the only thing keeping this group going rn

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yourusername As long as you keep supplying me with cookies

yn.wag16 MOTHER

yn.wag16 Oscars Charles content incoming

bananas_for_leclerc The way that I will simply pass away

dakotafanning The Oscars

Liked by yourusername, amandlastenberg, charles_leclerc and 809,347 others

dakotafanning 5 minutes ago @/yourusername was redoing @/charles_leclerc's hair for the ninth time and now look at her

View all 58,349 comments

yourusername And he's still not ready 🫠

charles_leclerc I am to! yourusername Then why are we all waiting by the elevator on you? landonorris She got you on that one bananas_for_leclerc He better look amazing with how long he's getting ready for

amandlastenberg We look GOOD tonight

kristin_ess Yes babes!

yn.wag16 Literally about to vibrate out of my chair with excitement for tonight oh my GOD

dakotasfan The fact that they're all posting each other tonight instead of themselves I'm going to sob

bananas_for_leclerc GRASPING for any Charles red carpet content I can get my hands on PLEASE I am no longer asking

yourusername The Oscars

Liked by charles_leclerc, kristin_ess, dakotafanning and 41,204 others

yourusername Not him being the reason we were the last ones on the carpet

View all 2,309 comments

charles_leclerc I was not, you speak lies

yourusername No I don't amandlastenberg No she doesn't dakotafanning No she doesn't kristin_ess No she doesn't charles_leclerc ...damn

pierregasly So he can clean up

charles_leclerc I will hit you in the ass with the ball so hard next time we play padel you won't be able to sit down for a week yourusername ...damn

yn.wag16 IT'S HERE

yn.wag16 CHARLES RED CARPET CONTENT IS HERE

lechairs_love I can't.... I'm done... he looks like he's about to cause so much chaos in the first one

bananas_for_leclerc I can't breathe

charles_leclerc

Liked by yourusername, pierregasly, amandlastenberg and 716,200 others

charles_leclerc Afterparties after afterparties yet she still manages to look gorgeous

View all 20,381 comments

yourusername Only because I have the world's best eye candy

charles_leclerc No I do dakotafanning y'all are making me feel incredibly alone

amandlastenberg It is four in the morning and we're just getting back to the hotel now

yourusername Signs of a good party charles_leclerc Party? Singular?

pierregasly I'm coming along next year, no arguments

charles_leclerc Invitation is only plus one 🤷 Be better

bananas_for_leclerc I need to get myself a Charles...

yn.wag16 GOD I'm so feral over them

lechairs_love If you'll excuse me I'll be sleeping on the highway tonight

yourusername Monaco

Liked by charles_leclerc, amandlastenberg, dakotafanning and 43,488 others

yourusername Back home and ready to relax

View all 3,009 comments

charles_leclerc My favorite audience

yourusername Play for me again, Charlie charles_leclerc Anything for you, mon cœur

amandlastenberg Bye you're adorable

yourusername ☺️

yn.wag16 GOD

yn.wag16 I can't do this anymore

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All photos from Pinterest, Instagram, or Google Images

[ataleofcrowns]

Chapter 12 Progress [08/APR]

Hey gang, I've started posting updates on my Patreon now that I'm actually making some damn progress on this chapter, so I figured to cross-post the latest update here as well. These are usually for members only but it's been sooo long, the ones I'm posting in April are all going to be for free 🙏🏼

This progress report focuses on a specific section of what I'm working on regarding CH12 and, more specifically, Kham.

About Kham

This one is turning out to be a bigger branching route than I expected. For those not in the know, I described in my dev sneak peek from last month how the opening scene of CH12 will involve the Crown dealing (or not dealing?) with Kham. It will be a bit of a culmination of all the choices you've made regarding Kham so far: did you inform her of the assassins in CH5, did you decide to trust her/were you honest with her in CH6, and did you choose to ask her to mediate for you in CH10?

Particularly that last decision will lead to the biggest difference in scenery: if you asked for Kham's help, you will get a scene at the palace involving her and the peri trader. If you decided not to ask her, however, the story will instead see you investigating the peri trader personally.

Initially, these were both two very clear branching paths with two very clear-cut consequences, but I decided it made more sense to offer additional variation. Choosing not to ask for her help with the peri trader will NOT lock you out of being able to ally with her... but the circumstances of it will be quite different compared to a player who has trusted Kham from the start and asked for her help.

You can, of course, decide not to ally with her on either branch as well, if you don't think she can be trusted. In which case, you should be prepared to make an enemy out of her: there's no fence-sitting on this one, and there won't be any chances to make an ally of her later on in the story. Similarly, if she turns out to be untrustworthy, and you make an ally out of her now, there won't be any takebacksies later... so you might end up stabbed in the back.

This is your one and only shot, so choose wisely.

About D and X

I'm currently working on the branch of the Crown dealing with the peri trader without Kham's involvement, and it's a pretty fun variation. There are some undercover detective vibes going on, and it's nice to write a scene set in the city as opposed to the palace for some variety. Though I've also dabbled in the route with Kham's help, and the Crown really flexes their royal authority in that one. Can go no wrong with either option in terms of entertainment, imo!

What's also been fun to explore further is how the main LI's subplot is starting to affect things in the story. I do have to note that for the branching sequence with the Kham choice, there's a bit of a spotlight on D and X since those two were gone for a whole chapter, so they get to spend some special time with the Crown in the first half of CH12. But R and A will be back for the rest of it!

I'll give you some D and X route crumbs this week since I've been chipping away at that one first, and hopefully I'll also have some on R and A next time:

For people who aren't on D's route, they'll get to find out something special about D that D romancers became privy to in CH11. It doesn't change much for the Crown on those routes, just some D lore you may enjoy and an opportunity to grow your friendship further.

As for D romancers, you all may or may not get a potentially devastating sequence depending on how your Crown handled their little court scene in CH11. If you managed to protect D, then all the better, but if you couldn't stamp out the court's protests... well, let's just say your Crown is going to have to be the one to inform D of any bad news.

Plus there's that damned letter to worry about. I'm sure that won't become any kind of problem at all.

For people who aren't on X's route, things are peachy! Honestly, all of the drama that happens for X romancers is not a big deal for everyone else, since X's romance with the Crown is the thing that causes them to act out. X friendship players are coasting in that regard, you just enjoy seeing X get to be their usual menace self.

For people who are romancing X, people on their low route might start noticing something different about them. Their actions in the high and low romances will be the exact same, but the vibes on the low route will be off, to say the least. You can still recover to a high route! But it will require having to pierce through that mask X is so fond of wearing...

High romancers: kick back, relax, and enjoy your upcoming romance content guilt-free LMAO

That was it for this week!! I wish I could give you an estimated release window, but I've been wrestling with this chapter, and I'm frankly deeply afraid I won't be able to finish it before summer rolls in 💀

Please keep your local struggling writer in your thoughts and prayers, and as always thank you for your patience and support 🙏🏼

[syoddeye]

useless, part three

Part three (and the finale!) of my submission to @glitterypirateduck's O, Captain! Challenge. As a reminder, I rolled a d100 to select three prompts. I finally used my third prompt.

42. The story spans over a period of 10 or more years

14. Opposites attract

66. Price or Reader is auctioned off for a date as part of a fundraiser

cw: one pregnancy mention (Reader does not get pregnant, has never been pregnant)

Read Part One, Part Two. Tag list: @v1x3n @kiranezra

~4.2k words, Price x f!Reader. This is the most self-indulgent shit I've written in awhile. Please enjoy.

It's past midnight when you limp through the front door of your flat, dropping belongings and articles of clothing alike, shedding both the weight of personhood and your eighteen-hour day. You set your keys down on the end of the counter, ignoring the thin folder for the umpteenth time. James will undoubtedly text about it in the morning, his patronizing messages more reliable than any alarm clock. A half-hour commute home, and you didn't even glance at your phone in fear of accidentally seeing another email from his lawyer. Solicitor. Whatever.

Hamhock slinks out from his lair beneath the bed, weaving between your ankles when you drag yourself into the bathroom.

"Hello Hammy," You whisper, eyeing the newer crop of gray hairs near your roots with a weary neutrality. Definitely the fundraiser's fault. Your hair started to change long before this year's planning began, but this is the longest period you've gone without dyeing it. One thing to thank James for. Not only did his departure give you a crystal clear focus, it freed you from his ridiculous expectations. He'd've commented the moment he spotted the wisps of silver, then casually worked something like anti-aging cream into the conversation.

The prick poisoned the well, and now the only man in the world for you currently lies at your feet. How it should've been from the start, really.

After checking the orange menace's automatic feeder, you slip into bed, allow him to assume his nocturnal throne—your armpit—and plug your phone in one-handed. Your eyes glaze over at the sight of notifications, thumb swiping by muscle memory, and set an alarm. With two weeks left until the big day and more than a hundred unsold tickets, you need every moment you can get. You sigh, counting the tasks of the day ahead instead of sheep.

You'll sign the divorce papers tomorrow.

~~

Naomi practically forces the granola bar into your hands. The assistant stage manager and the props lead—the younger woman is the glue to your glue. A newer fixture at the Bramble Theatre, she was you to an extent, maybe a decade ago: fresh-faced, eager, and optimistic.

"I didn't like how you were looking at the wax fruit."

"We should swap the oranges for plums. Or pears."

"We've been through this. The oranges fit the palette, from the paintings to Dotty's–oh, quit pulling my leg."

You grin, then jut your chin at the stack of slips in her hand. "Are those the waivers? Did all the volunteers sign?"

"Yes, I can post headshots today on socials, so that should boost sales."

"Good. That's one fire extinguished," Rubbing your temple, you lean back in your chair. "I feel gross about it, though. I mean, we run shows that are hundreds of years old, but a date auction? Why don't we raise a guillotine out front and sacrifice effigies to raise money?"

Naomi blinks and whips out her phone. "...Okay, one, I'm noting the effigy idea for next year, but two, the auction won the vote, and everyone participating volunteered."

You grimace. "I know, it's just–"

The sudden opening of the door to your shoebox office interrupts. Theodore, business manager, director, and occasional movement coach, bursts in. Everybody's a multi-hyphenate.

"Terrible news!"

Wonderful. A new fire. You squint, chewing, and watch Naomi try to stifle a laugh valiantly. "Whatever could this be about?"

The older man slams his palms onto your desk, his layered pendants tinkling. "I've punched the numbers, including a best scenario, stars aligning–"

"Teddy. Out with it."

"–we're going to be £40,000 short. Even if we sell out, even if we raffle off the company like cattle, we are circling the drain!"

The tired amusement leaves your body, and in its wake sits a five-digit number and the distant idea to schedule a salon appointment.

The annual fundraiser for the theater, your hard-won home, is a dramatic, demanding, and near-disastrous event every year. The theater has continuously operated a hair above the red, but the laundry list of expenses from the last year cannot be ignored. The new light rig, the stage flooring replacement, the curtain repairs—they never stop. Sponsors and grants only go so far.

Originally, you took this job for its laughable but slightly higher pay and because running around like a madwoman between four gigs at a time wasn't as thrilling or charmingly bohemian as it was in your twenties. Your livelihood depends on the playhouse's success. And the economy. And the general public's attitude toward the arts. All wildly variable. It made you resourceful, and already, you were composing a mental list of people to politely bully for pledges promised in years past. You need time and a phone charger.

"Teddy," you set the half-eaten granola bar down. "Go get ready for afternoon rehearsal. Naomi, cover for me today?"

"'Course."

Theodore swipes his spindly fingers over his brow, nodding fervently at your resolve. "If anyone can pull it off, it's you. Do tell if there is anything yours truly can do." With a flourish, the director departs your office, but Naomi lingers.

"You know if it's donations we need…"

You shake your head, immediately knowing what she intends to suggest. "Out of the question."

"But think of her–"

"I'd rather debase myself and resort to dinner theatre."

"I'm just saying–"

"Naomi," You stress. "I am not calling my mother."

She frowns. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. Are you really so proud you wouldn't leverage your family's connections to save the Bramble?"

It makes you pause. As usual, she's right. Irritatingly so. You could take another salary cut, but you'd need to find a flatshare, a humiliating idea. Hammy wouldn't survive it, the sensitive thing. You sigh and dismiss her with a wave.

"Fine I won't rule it out. But I'm going to shake down half the city first."

~~

An hour later, you've managed to secure a percentage. Not too shabby, but far from the goal. You take a break to read James's team's latest, vaguely threatening missives and entertain the idea of withholding your signature until he makes a donation. What's a little extortion in the name of art?

You know it's wrong to delay this ugly process. How close relief is should you simply sign the papers. But it's another failure, another black spot in your life's ledger. Another dream crushed beneath the boot of reality. With a wave of bitterness, you type out a curt reply, ensuring you will sign the papers and ask them to arrange for a courier tomorrow.

Naomi's suggestion takes advantage of your mind's lethargy, testing the strength of your will and stubbornness. The last time you phoned your mother was months ago, on the anniversary of dad's death. The old man took his last bow five years back, and it destroyed the last bridge between you and your formidable mother. In retirement, she still holds court with major political players stateside…and across the pond.

Before you let your loathing catch up, you pull up her contact card and dial. It's after noon in D.C., the middle of the week. You might get lucky and reach her voice–

"Is everything alright? You're not in the hospital, are you?" Her donnish, sharp voice hurtles you through time and space to your teenage years. 

"No," You answer with gritted teeth. A headache waits in the wings. "No, I'm fine, mom."

"Then why are you calling?"

This is why dad handled conversations. You stand, swiftly shutting the door to your office and locking it. "Can't I just call my mom?"

"Of course. Historically, you do not," There's a low murmur of chatter in the background. She's at a luncheon or at the club. "So I assume there is a reason."

Having an ex-ambassador for a mother is a joke. All that practised charm for everyone else in the world, none of it reserved for you. "Okay, yes, there is a reason."

"Thought so. Well, darling, what is it? Is it James? Don't tell me you're pregnant."

You return to your desk and eye the bottle of bourbon on the corner. "No. James and I are divorcing, remember? This is about my work."

There is no acknowledgement of the separation. Instead, your mother pulls the phone away from her mouth, excuses herself from wherever she is, and the background noise dissipates. 

"Your work."

"Yes, the Bramble? Look, we're two weeks out from our big annual fundraiser, and–"

"Oh, you need me to write a check." The clicking of her heels halts abruptly, and if you didn't know any better, she wilts. "Fine. How much do you want?"

Your face heats with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. "I am not asking for money. If you would stop interrupting me…Ugh, mom, I need help contacting some of your old friends here. If there's anyone you know looking for tax deductions or a pet project to brag about, the Bramble is in a bad spot financially."

In the past, whenever the theatre and, by extension, your chosen profession came up, your mother took the opportunity to lecture. She reminded you of the wasted opportunities she afforded you. She brought up your old schoolmates and their current positions. And most insulting of all, she always, always compared you to a certain soldier. Bracing yourself for her monologuing, you reached for the bottle.

"Why didn't you open with that, darling?"

Your fingers close around empty air, and you nearly pitch out of your seat in surprise. "What?"

"Send me the information. I've been meaning to reconnect with some old friends. When is the fundraiser?"

"In two weeks," You repeat, scrambling to pull up your email on the ancient desktop. "Tickets are–"

"Email it. I'll book my flights today and let you know when I'm getting in."

Your hands hover over the keyboard, and your neck protests the angle it bends to keep your phone lodged between ear and shoulder. "Oh, no, mom, you don't need to come."

"Nonsense. I'll, of course, make my own donation, and as a donor, I ought to see where my money is going."

Christ. For the Bramble, you remind yourself and exhale. "Okay. You do that. Listen, I have to get going…but mom?" It kills you to say it. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome. Oh, this will be so much fun. I haven't visited since before your father. You know, on the topic of reconnecting, I happened get an email from the Prices the other day, and John–"

There it is. You kick into fourth gear, rattling off your exit. "I've really got to run. Thanks again mom, send me your flight info. Love you. Bye!"

You feel like you've run a marathon and dodged a bullet. And yet, as you send the email and file the waivers, your mind snags on your mother's words. On a name. His name. It's not the first time your unhelpful brain's waylaid you with a trip down memory lane. Admittedly, it's happened more since James asked for the divorce. Most nights, if it isn't life's stresses hounding you, it's an endless parade of what-ifs behind your eyelids.

What if you studied economics instead? What if you stayed in America? What if you hadn't gone to that stupid New Year's party? What if you hadn't kissed John? If you didn't get on the train? 

The people in your circle frequently speak about living life without regrets. It's a romantic notion and a highly unrealistic one.

Your phone buzzes—Naomi. You're needed. Pushing the past where it belongs, back on a dark shelf, and head out to put out another fire. 

~~ 

Three days before the fundraiser, your mother lands in London and hosts you at her hotel for dinner. Playing catch-up is a professional sport with a whirlwind of names you barely remember and memories you remember very differently.

You pick at dessert, listening to another story.

"–and he was so insistent that that school of yours was a breeding ground for monsters, and I told him, isn't that what's needed in today's society? People need thick skin in politics and business. You'll be happy to know, though, he bought four tickets to the fundraiser."

You don't remember who you're talking about but smile and nod. It's a tough pill to swallow, your mother's success at rallying old friends with deep pockets. Teddy's practically in love with her despite having never met her, popping his bald head into your office to sing her praises whenever another pledge arrives.

Your response is rote. "That's wonderful, mom. Thank you."

She prattles on for another half hour before you decide it's time to return home to Hamhock and burn the midnight oil on the fundraiser's date auction. You asked the company for fifty-word bios and actors, bless them, struggle to contain their self-praises. When she finally pauses to take a sip of wine, you rise. "I should head home, lots to do–"

Ignoring you outright, her head turns, and she grins. "There you are!"

Following her gaze, your brow lowers in confusion until you clap eyes on a trio headed in your direction in the company of a server. Very briefly, you consider the melodramatics of matricide. You've been set up.

Mr. and Mrs. Price look well for their age, puttering toward your mother. They are greyer and a little shorter, but the warmth is there.

John, however…

The universe is intent on humbling you.

The hair is the first thing you notice. Short, kempt, and annoyingly a dark shade of brown. It's crept southward onto his face in a beard of a choice style. There is comfort in the finer details that clarify as he nears. He hasn't escaped time's passing with a face marked by crow's feet, frown lines, and forehead furrows. Beneath his shirt, there's a slight suggestion of a belly, though, with his thick arms and the narrowing of his waist, he's clearly a wall of muscle.

The worst part is how infuriatingly kind his smile looks. It's the beard. Softens him. Once an arrogant prick, always an arrogant prick.

John rumbles your name in a whisper, reeling you in for a polite peck on the cheek. "You're a sight for sore eyes."

You're years beyond fifteen and twenty-five, but how swiftly the impulse to snark resurfaces is alarming. Maturity tempers you. "You look good, too."

After a few minutes of greetings, the two of you are tasked with heading to the bar to fetch drinks. Wholly unnecessary what with a server, but it's a clear command to let the 'adults' talk for a spell. Nevermind being shy of forty. John's quick to try conversation when the order's in.

"You haven't changed a bit," He observes, leaning against the bar beside you. 

"Now there's something a woman wants to hear after a decade." You huff, casting your eyes across the restaurant, finding it difficult to look at him. The dark blue of his sweater makes his eyes pop.

"Fourteen years, actually," He corrects. "Drinking martinis, actin'…"

You snort. "You're half right. The Martini half."

His elbow gently knocks into yours atop the bar. "Apologies. My mother told me you'd been in My Fair Lady last summer."

That draws your attention. "No. The theater put it on, but I'm the stage manager. I haven't been on stage in ages." Your eyes flicker to the table, then back to him. Heat crawls up your collar. What other information has your mother passed along? Glancing down at your bare ring finger, you turn the conversation. "Not so different from a Captain, I reckon. How's that going?"

John squints a little, and his mouth pulls into a familiar smirk, tugging at old strings in your stomach. "Can't complain."

"Riveting stuff," He chuckles at that, a deep rasping sound, and you find yourself grinning. "Don't suppose that bit of clandestine, secret agent-type shit your mom's talked about?"

"Secret agent?"

"Yeah. Mentioned it in a Christmas card maybe three years ago?" You smile triumphantly into your glass. Seems both your mothers have a penchant for dressing up the truth.

His jaw works a tick, and something heavy passes behind his eyes. "Well, 'm not. Not exactly."

"Let me guess. If you told me, you'd have to kill me?"

He refocuses some, and a short laugh leaves him. "Something like that."

It's all painfully familiar, but it feels different with a little more life under your belt. His mere presence keeps you on your toes, yet you haven't felt this comfortable in months. For all the history and tension, talking to him is easy. A silence passes, the drinks arrive, and you ferry them to the table.

The night passes better than you expected when you first saw the Prices. They express belated condolences over your father, you chat about the fundraiser, and John politely navigates questions about his work. It frightens you when he briefly mentions Piccadilly to know he'd been there in the carnage. Part and parcel of military life, you guess. 

"John, be a gentleman and walk her to the station," His mother chides as the five of you congregate in the hotel lobby.

"He doesn't need to do that," You hastily say. Not again.

"'Course."

There is something dreadfully giddy to how your parents wish you both goodnight.

At least you do not need to take his arm this time. Still, there is no way John isn't thinking about that night. Not when that look of quiet desperation he wore is seared within your memory. It's silly, but you peeked at his hands earlier, and like yours, they're naked.

You break the silence to fish. "How long are you on leave?"

"A week. Got in yesterday."

"Do you normally visit your parents?"

"Often."

Doesn't mean there isn't a woman in his life. 'Often' is not 'always'. 

"Visit anyone else? Friends?"

He chuckles. "Sometimes."

You roll your eyes. "You know, you haven't changed much either. Aside from the beard and smoker's lung. Still a stunning conversationalist."

John smirks down at you. "Picked it up in the army."

Oh, yes. He remembers.

The conversation lulls, and the walk is short. You figure John's keen on a repeat when he wordlessly escorts you to the platform. But today's not a holiday, and the station is reasonably busy. He watches like a hawk, nonetheless, when you check the time.

"Brings back memories," He quietly comments.

Nodding, your thumb rubs where your wedding band used to rest. "Sure does." You respond and meet his gaze.

You studied theater, moved back to London, went to the party, and kissed John. You didn't regret those choices—only one.

The invitation flies out of you as your train emerges from the tunnel.

"Do you want to meet Hamhock?"

~~

"He's…certainly orange."

"Don't rush to spend all your compliments at once," You glare, arms full of Ham, then coo at the cat. "John's jealous because he's going grey in the beard."

"I am not."

"Saw them on the Tube. Can't those from me," You tease and set the cat down, giving your kitchen a quick glance. A silver lining of work eating up your schedule is that you last cleaned two weeks ago, and it's held.

"What're those on your head then?" He gestures with a finger and toes off his shoes. 

"Details of a person ageing gracefully." You play it confidently, but part of you holds a breath.

He hums and sidesteps Hamhock. "Suits you. It's pretty."

Maybe inviting him over is a mistake. The bolt that runs through you from the compliment pokes at something you thought buried. "What a gentleman," You try to inject as much sarcasm as possible, but your voice quivers. "I'll be right back. Sit tight?"

You leave John in the kitchen to retreat to the bathroom to regroup. Come on, you scold yourself over the basin for getting worked up. It's just John. 

And yet, what remains of your confidence perches on a cliffside at the sight of John pointedly staring at the folder of your copies of the divorce papers on the counter. Fantastic.

His small smile is genuinely sympathetic. It's enraging.

"Y'know, I knew you were married…When I didn't see a ring at the hotel, though, I wondered."

Your chest tightens, and you shove the folder into a bookshelf. "Yep. Finalized the divorce two-ish weeks ago."

You're not in the mood to be reminded of your failures.

"Sorry it didn't work out," John murmurs.

"That's life. That's how it works sometimes," You exhale, then force a smile. "Want a drink? Bourbon? Wine?"

He lets you change the subject, and you let him have a glass of whiskey.

You sit on opposite ends of your short couch, Hamhock acting as a gentlemanly barrier. The conversation rekindles itself after a few fingers of liquor, and eventually, John migrates to the floor, idly playing with the cat. You confide in him about your worries about the event and whether the funds raised will be enough, and he listens. There is no condescension, no bulldozing. Not a trace of smugness at all when he makes suggestions. You don't realize how you've slipped into an old, practically ancient formation until he peers back, eyes creasing from laughter. You're fifteen again, and it is useless to deny it – you are regrettably in love with John Price.

"Can I confess something?" He suddenly asks as your cat waddles off with a catnip toy in his mouth.

Your heart lurches. "If it's a crime, I'm a terrible conspirator." 

"No. Nothin' like that, but I lied earlier." He chuckles, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. "My mother didn't tell me about My Fair Lady."

"What do you mean?"

John turns sheepish. "I came an' saw it when I was on leave last summer. Thought I'd surprise you, but I got to the theater and lost my nerve."

Instantly, you pick through scraps of memories from the production. There is no way you would have known he was in attendance, not with how hellishly busy you are. 

"You, Captain John Price, lost your nerve?"

Color blooms high on his cheeks, and he turns on the floor, rubbing his neck. "I knew you're not acting but I didn't know how to mention it without soundin' like a prick." His eyes look soft. Different from how they looked that night in his parent's garden. Steady, unwavering, but soft. "I know I'm not good with words. I seem to have a talent for making you angry. But I really am happy to see you. Didn't think I'd get another chance after how I bungled it all those years ago at the train–"

At your grown ages, the angle of the kiss is inadvisable. The two of you fix it without parting, and his hands cup your face when you're finally standing toe-to-toe. 

He touches your foreheads together when breathing becomes necessary. "Change anything?"

You don't answer. You lead him to your bedroom and exile the cat.

~~

The fundraiser goes off with a predictable amount of hitches. The caterer is an hour late and forgets half the hors d'oeuvres. The bar runs out of red wine early. Two actors from the children's company slap-fight on stage. Nothing you, Naomi, and Teddy can't fix with elbow grease and stage magic. The caterers re-course. Naomi calls in a favor from her bartender girlfriend. And the children forget their quarrel when they're called upon to defeat Captain Hook.

What you are not prepared for is one of the actors calling out sick, leaving you one date short for the auction. You waste an hour trying to convince one of your fellow techies to step in.

Naomi corners you when you stress-eat a comically tiny piece of toast swiped from a tray. 

"You know, if one person is all we need…"

"Your girlfriend won't be mad?"

"Ha-ha, don't get cheeky. C'mon, isn't it time you got back out there?" 

You suppress a smug smile. Naomi has no idea. Nobody does. You've gotten back out there and then some. 

"Did I not tell you I was grossed out by the auction?"

She's relentless. "Are you really so proud you wouldn't debase yourself a little for the Bramble?"

"Absolutely not."

You'd said it with such conviction, so it's a puzzle when you find yourself waiting in the stage wing, makeup hurriedly refreshed. It takes all your courage and grace not to stumble to Teddy's side when he calls your name. He improvises an introduction on the fly, and you nearly laugh when you realize this is the first time you've been on the stage, under a spotlight, in years.

The bidding opens, and you hold your breath, letting it go when a few unfamiliar voices call out numbers. A humbling embarrassment clutches you by the throat. But then a paddle raises more confidently in the front row. The light is bright, but you know whose hand hoists it high.

~~

He collects you at the end of the night as you lock up.

"There's my prize."

You can't stop the grin that splits your face. "It's just a date, John."

"Yeah, doin' things a bit out of order, aren't we?" A glimmer of his younger, puffed-up self shines through, and his hand envelops yours.

As you walk, your elbow digs into his ribs, "What will our mothers say?"

"That a big deal to you?"

"To some people."

"Well, love, you're not 'some people'."

[endwersed]

WIP Mon(Weds)day

Tagged by my amazing moots @dear-massacre & @hedwig221b ❤️

I'm in full-time editing mode with posting a chapter a week for my ABO AU: the poets are right. So, here's a maybe-not-so-little snippet from the upcoming chapter 3!

-

“You left,” Derek says.

“Didn’t think you’d notice,” Stiles replies evenly. “You were busy, weren’t you?”

A sound of frustration rumbles up from Derek’s chest. His jaw works around it for a moment as he stares across the length of the room.

“I said I’d be back,” he says quietly.

Something snaps inside of Stiles with that. He pushes himself roughly up, the bends of his elbows digging into the mattress below, and his face is caught up, screwed up, in this all-out sneer, his breath trembling on its way out of him as the sheets bunch within the tight balls of his fists.

“Oh, sure,” he spits. “So you wanted me to just hang around and wait for you to be done talking with your fucking girlfriend?"

“Okay,” Derek says quickly, one step closer, two palms going up into the air. “That’s not even – no. Jennifer is not my girlfriend.”

Stiles laughs; a short, harsh bark of it. He lifts a hand to smack the heel of his palm against his forehead, a manic sort of smile clinging to his mouth as he pushes up further to swing his legs around, standing from the bed and moving quickly over to Derek’s stilled form.

“My bad,” he snaps, jabbing a finger into Derek’s chest. “Not your girlfriend. Your betrothed.”

“She’s not my anything,” Derek insists, almost a growl of it as he drops his hands back down to his sides. “I don’t even – Stiles, I swear to you, I don’t even like her.”

Stiles scoffs nastily, pulling his hand back from Derek to cross his arms over his chest, his nails scoring into the skin at his exposed wrists where they peek out from the fastened cuffs of his shirt. He twists his head to look away from Derek, to stare at the wall next to him instead. Anywhere is better than being forced to see that open, pleading, lying face.

“That’s not the story your guest gave me,” Stiles says.

“I don’t give a fuck what anyone else said!” Derek practically shouts. “I mean, fuck – yes, my mom wants us to be together, but... but Jennifer... she is a cruel, spiteful person. I don’t want her like that, I will never want her like that. No matter what anyone else thinks, it will never happen.”

Blinking around the sharp burning behind his eyes, Stiles desperately wills any tears to hold back, to not fall right now, not where Derek can see them. There is no way he will be able to move fast enough to swipe them gone, no way he will catch them before the stains track hotly down his cheeks. Not with Derek so close to him, not with Derek staring at him this intently.

All at once, the fight leaves him. His chest feels cracked open, his heart beating sluggishly behind its sharp ridges. There isn’t anything here to fight for, and he knows that, knows that deep down in the part of himself that Laura has so desperately been trying to make him forget with each day he spends here, with every moment he spends with Derek.

He and Derek – they are who they are. A human and a werewolf. A story that can never happen.

“Just... go back to your party,” he says quietly, eyes flicking down to the ground. “It’s your birthday. You can’t just go missing.”

“No,” Derek says, sharp and instant as he takes a stupid step closer. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you believe me.”

Stiles uses every last bit of strength within him to keep staring resolutely down. His eyes still sting as he blinks at the floor below their feet, his mouth parted around too loud, too shallow, too shaky breaths. The seconds pass in silence, and he refuses to look up, he refuses to look at Derek’s face, and he so wishes that he could truly want Derek to turn around and walk right back out of that door.

“I don’t care,” he lies, even knowing his heart will betray that to Derek’s ears. “Just – leave me alone, Derek. I don’t fucking care.”

For a moment, Derek says nothing. For a moment, Stiles thinks that perhaps he has won, perhaps he has been victorious in this contest where nobody really comes out on top, and Derek will leave, will go back to his party, his people, his Jennifer, and Stiles will be alone, will be given all the time and space he needs to shed this impossible mindset that Laura has been so cruelly bleeding into him.

But then – a finger hooks beneath his chin. Gentle, and firm, slowly lifting his face, dragging his gaze from the floor, forcing him to look up, forcing him to meet Derek’s wide, pale, desperate eyes.

“You do care,” Derek says.

-

No pressure tags 🤗 @lucky-bishop @patolemus @raisesomehale @renmackree @violetfairydust

[avonne-writes]

omg for the prompts i love "— “of course i remembered. it’s important to you, so now it’s important to me too.”" and and "— “can i hold your hand? is that weird to ask?”" and and omg "— “i can’t believe you didn’t know i liked you, i thought it couldn’t have been any more obvious.”" for the hs au pleaseeeeee

I posted the hand holding prompt a few days ago, so I'll exclude it here. The other two I'm going to combine with today's Daily Dose of Austin Butler prompt (this will only be at the end of the drabble).

The boys are 15 here, and this is right after they make up following their first serious fight. (Sorry for any typos, I'm very tired.)

TW for brief mention of child abuse

2. Selfie

"I can’t believe you didn’t know I liked you." Gale smiles softly at the small glow-in-the-dark stars that decorate the ceiling of Bucky's bedroom. They're the only source of light in the cozy night as he and Bucky lie there in Bucky's bed side by side. When Gale shifts, Bucky's hand tightens around his where they rest on Gale’s chest. "I thought it couldn’t have been any more obvious."

Bucky's chuckle is so close to Gale's ear that he feels a hot flush run down his neck. "I thought you were just shy."

"I'm not that shy!"

"If you say so, baby." Bucky laughs and hugs him, giddy and warm as usual.

Gale hugs him back and closes his eyes against the sudden pang of pain in his heart when he realizes how much he missed this. Being called baby. Being hugged.

Two months of dating and this is the first time that he’s staying the night. It feels like a dream, especially considering the past few days, when everything seemed to be falling apart because he lied about all the shit he has to put up with at home. Those stupid lies! Why couldn’t he just say, my father is an alcoholic and my mom doesn’t give a fuck?

Instead, he led Bucky to feel like Gale didn’t really like him after all. He confused him. Messed up the first relationship he has ever had. Bucky broke up with him, and Gale cried and cried and threw out all of his dad's booze just to get the slap he felt he deserved. It was... He doesn’t want to think about it. What matters is that his Bucky came back to him, they talked for, like, four hours non-stop, and everything is all right now. For the first time in a week, Gale feels the sweet draw of a peaceful sleep.

When Bucky kisses his cheek, he opens his eyes to look at the plastic stars again.

A few weeks ago, when Bucky had a cold and he came over to cuddle him for a few hours, Bucky told him that he had put those stars up with his dad not long before his parents divorced, but they didn’t finish the whole ceiling. His dad left and had almost no contact whatsoever with Bucky since. All that remains is the longing, an old sheepskin jacket and the stars on the ceiling. Although Gale wouldn’t mind if his own dad wasn’t around, he tries to sympathize. It’s not like he can ever understand, of course, but... well, he tries to do things for Bucky that he would like himself.

"Oh." He covers his face with a hand when he remembers what he has been carrying in his backpack since before their fight. "I forgot to give you your present!"

"Huh?" Bucky pushes himself up, confused, then laughs along with Gale as Gale fumbles to find the light switch. When the bedside lamp finally turns on, they squint at each other blearily in its glow.

A bit self-conscious in his checkered long-sleeved pjs, Gale climbs off the bed and pads over to his schoolbag, where he hopes his gift survived the past few days. He roots around a bit before he emerges triumphant with the small bag wrapped in a Marvel comic page because Bucky's obsessed with those.

Bucky beams in joy at the sight. "Why do I get a gift?" He asks after he takes it from Gale and starts picking at the wrapping.

Gale plops down next to him and tucks his growing hair behind his ear. "For our two-month anniversary." He says, grinning when Bucky gives him a smirk for using that term.

When his gaze drops back to the package, Bucky’s smile fades. "I, uh, got you some chocolate." He gives Gale an apologetic look. "But after - you know. I ate it."

For a moment, Gale stares into Bucky’s sad puppy eyes, then his lips wobble and he bursts into a laugh. "Oh my God."

"I'll buy you something tomorrow!"

Still giggling, Gale lets himself list to the side until his arm bumps into Bucky’s. "It’s okay. I'm not mad."

"Now I feel guilty though." Bucky pouts, but he throws an arm around Gale's shoulders as the contents of his gift finally spill over his lap.

Glow-in-the-dark stars and adhesive.

What Gale expects is a grin and a kiss, and Bucky rambling on about how he finally has enough stars to fill in the gaps on his ceiling, maybe an invitation to do it together, but there’s only silence at first. It’s unusual enough that he starts to worry. Was it a bad idea? Did he do something wrong? He chews at his bottom lip, but tries to find reassurance in the fact that Bucky hasn't pulled his arm back.

"You remembered." Bucky says quietly.

"Of course I remembered." Gale says, surprised that Bucky didn't think that was evident. "It’s important to you. So now it’s important to me too."

A part of Gale worries that he’s being too emotional, too sentimental. Maybe it's too much after only two months? He tried to research anniversary presents but there was no clear answer on the internet. It’s not like he can do much anyway, he barely gets any money from his mom.

The longer the silence stretches on, the more anxious Gale feels, but then, Bucky finally looks up at him, and the raw emotion in his eyes is enough to tell him that it wasn’t a mistake after all.

"Thank you." Bucky says quietly, then tangles his fingers in Gale's hair and gives him a lingering kiss that makes Gale's heartbeat race in joy. When he pulls back, he drops his face to Gale's neck, wraps his arms around him and starts giggling.

"What?" Gale smiles, stroking Bucky’s back.

After a few seconds, Bucky pulls back and kisses him again. "I was going to ask you if -" He bites his lip, uncharacteristically shaky with his words from some strange mix of joy and nerves that puzzles Gale. "- if you'd help me take them off."

Gale stops functioning for a moment. "You want to take them off?"

Bucky cracks a breathy laugh. "Yeah. I thought about it a few weeks ago. I thought we could - it could be a date, I mean - it's dumb but I feel like I don't need them anymore." He looks away, then back at Gale again. "Because I have you."

"Oh." Gale looks at his hands in his lap, trying to process it.

Bucky, who refused to let even his mom touch those stars, is now ready to take them off with Gale's help because of Gale. It doesn't even matter that this makes Gale's present pointless - the warmth of love fills Gale from head to toe. It kind of sounds like as if he was important to Bucky. More important than a memory from the father who left him. After two months. Gale doesn’t really know what this means, but... He likes it. Feeling like he matters is the most amazing thing he has ever experienced.

Slowly, a smile spreads over his face until he’s grinning at Bucky. He gives Bucky's shoulder a light shove. "You’re the least romantic boyfriend ever."

"Shut up, I can be romantic." Bucky laughs and tackles him back on the mattress. "I'm so romantic, you won’t even know what hit you."

"Your bony elbow?"

Bucky snorts, and they wrestle and banter until Gale’s out of breath from laughing and he’s sure his hair stands up in cowlicks. That’s when Bucky throws himself down next to him with his phone in his hand.

"Let’s take a selfie."

"Now?" Frowning, Gale holds up a hand to cover his face. He’s a mess in ugly pjs, and he's pretty sure he has a red spot on his chin too. Utterly unflattering. "No, come on."

"Gaaale." Bucky pleads, turning to his side to cling to Gale. "I'm bored of my wallpaper."

"Just download something."

"I'm bored of that too." Bucky whines. "Please, we don’t take enough selfies. I want to remember this day."

Gale peeks out between his fingers only to see his half-hidden face and tangled hair on the screen of the phone Bucky holds up above them. Grinning, Bucky snaps the photo, then chortles when Gale groans, closes his eyes and drops his hands in defeat.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

When Gale looks up again and sighs, Bucky turns his head, and they meet each other's eyes. Happiness passes between them like a wave of warmth. With an indulgent smile, Gale leans forward and presses his lips to Bucky's.

Snap.

That last selfie ends up being Bucky's wallpaper for months to come until he breaks his phone playing soccer with Curt.

[captainsophiestark]

Vigilante Book Club Part 2

Jason Todd x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist! - Part 1 Part 3

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Summary: After having an all-around terrible day, the only person who might be able to make it better is a certain book-loving vigilante.

Word Count: 1,562

Category: Fluff

A/N: This is the closest I've come all year to missing a Friday lol, but we got it done! Woohoo!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

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

I hummed to myself as I moved around the kitchen, dancing to the music I had on in the background while making sure everything cooked just right. I had a reputation to fix, after all, and I was determined to get it right.

After the Red Hood had broken into my apartment to return my favorite book last week, I'd convinced him to come back for a thank-you dinner and to talk about the book, which he'd been planning to read in the meantime. He'd also vaguely insulted my cooking, although I'd mostly forgiven him for that in light of him returning my book.

Tonight was the date we'd set for dinner and book-talk, and I'd spent the week preparing the perfect recipe. Even better, the kitchen currently smelled amazing, which had to be a good sign of success.

Right on cue, about the same time he'd shown up last week, I heard a knock on my door. I smiled, trying to ignore the way my heart sped up a little as I quickly wiped my hands on the kitchen towel and headed for the door.

I paused just long enough to look through the peep hole and, as expected, the Red Hood stood towering in my doorway. This time, instead of the whole-head helmet, he only had a red domino mask on. Thank goodness, since the dinner part of this whole evening would be ruined if he couldn't actually eat without revealing his secret identity. I swung open the door with a grin.

"Hi! I'm glad you came! Honestly, I was half expecting you to be at the window again."

He just grunted and shrugged.

"I wasn't sure you'd actually be home, or still up for this. Figured I'd come to the door and give you a chance to pretend not to be home."

"Don't be ridiculous," I said, waving off his concerns as I opened the door wide. "I've been looking forward to this all week. Unless, of course, you're here to hate on my favorite book. If that's the case, I think I'm going to have to throw you out."

He laughed. "Don't worry, I'd never do that. I know what a true favorite book means to a reader."

I gave him a little smile and a nod as I closed the front door, then headed past him into the kitchen. I gestured to the bar stools at my counter as I checked that everything still looked good.

"Have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"A water would be great."

"Sure thing! Coming right up." I filled up a glass for Red Hood and myself, then fixed him with a smile as I set his glass down in front of him. "So... notice anything different from the last time you were here? Anything in the kitchen, maybe?"

He hummed, pausing and pretending to think. I put my hands on my hips and raised an eyebrow, and after a moment, he broke and grinned.

"I'll admit, the kitchen's looking much more promising than the last time you said you were making dinner in here."

"Thank you," I said, smiling as I turned around to start plating everything. "I told you, last time you were here was just a record-breaking bad day. A cooking fluke."

I could hear him hum behind me, at least pretending not to sound totally convinced.

"Next time, I'll make something. Everything you've got going right now looks amazing, but I'm a pretty good cook myself. I wouldn't want you thinking I'm acting like a critic out of nowhere."

I hesitated a second before turning around, trying to get my ridiculous smile and racing heart under control. I technically didn't know him very well yet, but so far, I'd started to really like Red Hood. I loved the idea of making this a regular thing, and I loved even more that he'd suggested it. I took a deep breath, then finally turned around, my smile still massive but at least a little more reasonable.

"Deal. Next time, you cook."

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

I laughed, closing my book and shaking my head as I looked up at Hoodie. He looked back over the top of his own book, one eyebrow raised.

"What?" he asked, leaning slightly towards me. I shook my head, smiling all the same.

"Nothing. I just know why you wanted me to read this book so badly now."

"Oh yeah? And why's that?"

I cleared my throat dramatically and lifted Hoodie's copy of Northanger Abbey, which he'd temporarily loaned me, before starting to read:

"The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid."

Hoodie grinned. "I'll admit, I may have levelled that quote at a family member or two. Although, I might widen the original to include stories in general."

I snorted. "And if one of those family members said they loved podcasts or movies or something, but not books?"

"No, they're the exception. They're idiots whether or not they enjoy a good story."

I laughed, and after a moment, Hoodie joined me. Since that first reading date, we'd made our unofficial vigilante book club into a weekly occurance. He always came over to my place, and we spent the evening talking about books, or reading together and then talking about books. We alternated who cooked, and this time, it was his responsibility. He had food cooking in the crock-pot, and the delicious smells had been temping me for the better part of the past few hours.

"So I take it you're enjoying the book?" he asked, laying his down in his lap. I nodded, mirroring his gesture and sitting up a little straighter.

"I am. I can't believe it took me so long to get around to reading it! I've loved all the other Austen I've read."

"Which is why we get along," he said with a grin. I nodded.

"I could never spend time like this with a man who didn't at least appreciate Pride and Prejudice."

"Of course not."

"But what about you? Are you liking your book of the week?"

He nodded, scooting a little closer to me on the couch.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, you have good taste in books. I don't think you've picked one yet that I haven't liked."

"...Now I sort of want to take that as a challenge."

Hoodie just rolled his eyes.

"Be careful. I've read some shit I wouldn't wish on anyone, but I can and will use it as payback if I have to."

I laughed. "I don't know, I've read some pretty unbeatably bad ones..."

"Oh yeah? Well how about-"

He stopped short at the sound of a ringtone. I raised an eyebrow as he grimaced. Not once, in all the weeks we'd been doing this, had either of us let a phone interrupt the night.

"Sorry. Vigilante phone," he grunted. "Just a second."

I waved him off to let him know it was no problem, and he shot me a quick smile before answering. To my surprise, he held it out in front of him and put it on speaker.

"What do you want?" he barked without a hello. "I'm busy."

"Yeah, so busy that nobody's been able to get a hold of you all night!" came an exasperated voice that sounded much too young for that level of exhaustion. "We started prepping for Alfred's birthday-"

BOOM! A loud noise that sounded too close to an explosion for comfort cut off the rest of the sentence. My jaw dropped open at the same time that the kid on the other end of the phone shouted out at the top of his lungs.

"JASON! What happened? Are you- oh shit, I think that was on my end." A brief pause, some scuffling, and the sound of an alarm in the background as Hoodie—as Jason—and I sat frozen in place on the couch. "Just get back here as soon as you can to help!"

The kid on the other end hung up, leaving Jason and I in the ringing silence of my apartment. After a moment, the man on the couch next to me sighed heavily, and I decided to beat him to the punch on further breaking the silence.

"I am... so sorry," I said. "I know you probably didn't want that, like, getting out, and-"

"Stop," he said gently, reaching out to take my hands in his. I did, opting instead to chew on the inside of my lip as I looked at him with wide eyes. "Look, it's not exactly how I wanted this to go, and I wasn't expecting Timbo to use the vigilante phone to say my civilian name, but... I've been thinking about telling you for a while. I'm not upset that you know, and I've know you long enough now that I trust you to keep my secret."

My mouth dropped open a little as a thousand butterflies exploded in my chest. This was a major leap of faith and trust in the relationship we'd been building in our little book club. I squeezed Jason's hands, smiling as I leaned into him a little. He grinned back at me, then sighed.

"Now, if you hated Austen, maybe I'd have to be a little more worried about all this..."

I gasped. "I could never."

"Exactly. You're not somebody I'm worried about here."

We shared another, softer smile, and then I reluctantly dropped Jason's hands.

"Speaking of people you should be worried about... whoever made that call sounded like they could use your help."

Jason's eyes rolled back so far I couldn't see the pupils anymore.

"They're idiots who should never be allowed anywhere near a kitchen, but they'll survive without me for a little longer. At least long enough to do this."

For a split second, I expected him to lean in for a kiss, and my heart did a backflip in my chest. Instead, he reached up for the domino mask still sitting comfortably on his face, which somehow seemed more intimate.

Slowly, he pulled away the fabric, revealing the bright blue eyes it had been hiding. When he smiled, this time I could see the corners of his eyes turning up along with his mouth, and even from a few feet away I could see his gorgeous eyelashes. It took some actual effort not to swoon, even though his face didn't change significantly from when he'd been wearing the mask.

"Like what you see?" he asked, tone soft but joking. I huffed a laugh and let a smile make its way back onto my face.

"Yeah. I do."

"Good. Then... what do you think about going out? On a real date, with me, not Red Hood? No pressure if you're not interested, but-"

"I would love that," I said, my smile morphing to take up my entire face. "Jason."

He beamed back at me the second his name left my lips, the two of us gravitating towards each other until his vigilante phone started blaring again and Jason rolled his eyes.

"I better go. But I'll see you... this Friday? Pick you up at six?"

I nodded. "It's a date."

Jason grinned, his eyes darting back to me every few seconds as he collected his things. We agreed to just keep each other's books until Friday since we wouldn't get to finish reading them together tonight, making Jason the first person I'd ever trusted with my only copy of a book. Our goodbye took longer than it should've since he had explosions to deal with and we were seeing each other again in a few days, but neither of us could bear to part any faster. And when the front door finally shut, it was hours before I actually wiped the smile off my face.

Who could've guessed something positive would come out of one of my most obnoxious bad days to date, let alone someone as wonderful as Jason?

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin @v1ckycheesue

[yuujispinkhair]

Separation Anxiety - Masterpost

Put your lips on my scars and teach me to love

When a ritual separates Sukuna from Yuuji, Sukuna is delighted to find that besides having his own body, there is also another gift handed to him: The brat has lost all his memories and is now the perfect little plaything to take home and manipulate. At least, that's the plan. But the King of Curses isn't prepared for the feelings that come along with being human again. And another complication is how cute the brat is when he has no idea who Sukuna is and, instead of hating him, treats him with genuine love and affection. So, without realizing it, Sukuna suddenly finds himself on a journey of learning how to be loved and how to love.

Sukuna x Yuuji | fluff + smut | Memory Loss AU | Overall warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of violence, dub-con (Yuuji has lost his memories, and Sukuna lies to him about being boyfriends) | All characters are of age | Minors don't interact

Playlist: Separation Anxiety

Chapter 01: Welcome to my cage, little lover

Chapter 02: You look into my eyes, you can't recognize my face. You're in my world now. You can stay, but you belong to me

Chapter 03: Your mind wants to leave, but you can't go. This is a happy house. We're happy here

Chapter 04: Do you feel safe out in the light? Or is this the place where monsters hide?

Chapter 05: This could be perfection. A venom dripping in your mouth. Singing like a siren. Love me while your wrists are bound

Chapter 06: I wanna feel you in my bones. I'm gonna tear into your soul. Desire, I'm hungry, and I hope you feed me

Chapter 07: I don't know what to do with your kiss on my neck. I want to steal your soul and hide you in my treasure chest

Chapter 08: Your love is scaring me. No one has ever cared for me as much as you do

Chapter 09: Put your lips on my scars and teach me to love

Chapter 10: I don't understand how your love can do what no one else can. Your love's got me looking so crazy right now

Chapter 11: Honey, you're Atlas in his sleeping. And when you move I'm moved

Chapter 12: If I told you where I've been, would you still call me baby?

Chapter 13: You've been my God and when you're gone I'm godless. But with my eyes closed I'm still dancing in your love

Chapter 14: I can't keep you in these arms, so I'll keep you in my mind

Chapter 15: We can meet in the middle, bodies and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight when all the stars align for you and I

If you would like to be tagged when I publish the chapters, please comment on this post or send me an ask. I will cross-post this fic on Tumblr and AO3 starting next week. I hope I can post a new chapter each week! I'm so excited!!

[kodydrs]

The Vice-Admiral’s Daughter - Portgas D. Ace ( II )

➥ the first arguement

a/n: I might have this done by next week (i’m jinxing myself rn). writing this all feels so repetitive 😭. but hope everyone is having a wonderful day, so why not reblog / leave a reply, or send in a request / ask?

warnings: ace x fem!reader, pirate!ace x marine!daughter!admiral, fxm, 17y/o!reader, 19y/o!ace, argument, tension, non-con (but not really), pet names, single used of “y/n”, not proofread (it’s never proofread), i’m bad at tagging

summary: a series of you and ace’s “first times” - you haven’t seen ace for almost 2 years, but suddenly the pirate pops up in a bar.

ib: i lied an forgot to mention it in the first post, but the pirate x marine idea came from this post by @tinfairies

request: yes / no

The next time you met Ace was almost a year and a half later at a similar bar, but this one wasn’t in Loguetown. Instead, you were partaking in a Marine Training. Night had come and training had ended, so you had all decided to get drinks at the local bar (courtesy of the Vice-Admiral, of course). It was going to be a good night until you spotted a familiar orange cowboy hat.

‘Can you guys excuse me for a minute? I’ve gotta do something quickly.’ You told the other cadets. You got a response of “Oh come on, Y/n.” and “But we’re sitting down for the first time all day”, all of which you ignored. Not drawing attention to yourself from anyone in the bar, you walked up to the counter and took a seat beside the pirate.

Ace looked at you through the side of his eye, having to do a double take before realising who you were.

‘Hey. It’s the Vice-Admiral’s daughter!’ He shouted, resulting in a merciless jab to the ribs. He doubled over, wincing as he smiled up at you. ‘Long time, no-‘

‘You need to leave.’ You hissed as you ordered yourself a drink. He just chuckled.

‘We both know that isn’t going to happen, sweetheart.’ He says, taking a small sip of his drink.

‘Ace. There are other marines here. This whole town is swarmed with marines at the moment. You will get caught.’ You whisper-yell, chugging your own drink like it was a shot of water. Ace watched in amazement, a devilish smirk crossing his face as he leans in to whisper in your ear.

‘What happened to “I don’t drink”? Last time I saw you, I had to force you into having just one and now here you are, drinking like a sailor. What did I miss?’

‘I aged.’ You reply blatantly, like it’s the most obvious answer. ‘Last time I saw you, Ace, I was 16. It’s been almost 2 years.’

He laughs, ruffling your hair playfully and you can feel your cheeks heating up.

‘Well you certainly aged well.’ You were quick to brush his hand away, grabbing him by his hat's drawstrings and dragging him from the bar once again.

‘You’re an asshole. And an idiot.’ You curse loudly, turning heads as you cart him down the main street and into an empty alley. ‘What are you even doing here?’

‘I was bored.’

If he looked close enough, Ace might have seen the vein on your forehead pulsing and your patience snap.

‘I’m sorry. You’re in a highly marine populated area, on the busiest day of Marine training, because YOU’RE BORED?!’

He looks at you nonchalantly, shrugging.

‘That is what pirates do, sweetheart.. We get bored sometimes.’

You pinch the bridge of your nose and groan, enciting a smile from the older.

‘How is it that you always manage to be in the worst place at the worst time? It’s like that’s your devil fruit power instead of fire fist shit.’

His smirk widens and he leans back against the wall. ‘That’s because I'm not afraid to take risks.’ He winks mischievously, stepping forward towards you before stopping short when he notices your expression.

‘What's wrong, baby girl?’ He asks, tilting his head slightly.

‘I-uh.’ You’re struggling to find words, and you know that boosting Ace’s already large ego. ‘You’re a pervert.’

He bursts into laughter, making you flinch.

‘Oh ho! That’s quite rich coming from you, princess.’ There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes.

‘Rich coming from me?’ You fight, a surge of confidence flooding you. ‘You took advantage of a 16 year old girl while she was intoxicated.’

He steps closer, towering over you and you feel all the light around you disappear. It’s scary.

‘If I remember correctly, and let us both remember I was the sober one, you said something along the lines of “I want to kiss you so bad right now” and me, not being a “pervert” , told you to try saying it while you’re sober. so no, Y/n. I took advantage of no one.’

Your face flushes red, internal regret ringing in your ear as every alarm goes off. Your flight response, your “crawl into a ball and cry” response, and your fight response.

‘You’re lying.’

‘Oh yeah?’ His voice dropped down to that octave you remembered from your first drink. That animalistic tone as he slowly runs a finger down your covered stomach before hooking onto your belt. ‘Then why are you so nervous?’

You’re doing your best to not break eye contact with the man, but your breathing becomes deep and heavy as he leans in close enough for you to feel his breath on your neck as he whispers in your ear.

‘Tell me, babygirl. What exactly did I do wrong?’ He grips tighter onto your belt, pulling your forwards until your chests are pressed together closely. ‘Just answer me, please.’

You can’t form words, and all that comes out when you try to answer is a quiet whimper, like an animal caught in the hunters trap. Ace just laughs, placing a hand on your hip.

‘Now… that isn’t very convincing, princess.’ He pulls away and you gasp for air, your body finally registering that you were breathing. You can feel how hot your face is, and it only makes you more embarrassed which adds to the heat.

‘I-‘

‘You’re trying to tell me I forced you?’ Ace says, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. ‘I did no such thing, ok? What I’m doing now? This is forcing. But on that night, I took you back to the tavern because I didn’t know where you lived and you were too drunk to give me directions. From there, the bartender should’ve taken you home. So please don’t accuse me of taking advantage of you. We had a deal, remember?’

You nod weakly, breathing normally as he releases your jaw and brings his hand to the side of your hand, caressing your cheek gently.

‘I… I’m sorry. For accusing you, and- everything else.’

He looks at you with that dark expression for another second before his signature bright smile lights up.

‘It’s alright. I don’t hold a grudge. Especially not with my friends. And you were so drunk. You wouldn’t have remembered anything from that night, anyways.’

You laugh quietly, wiping your eyes of the few tears that had threatened to spill.

‘…yeah. But I wasn’t drunk.’

‘Oh my god.’ He shouts, laughing at the fact you’re still defending your case after a year and a half. Regardless of the actions prior, he pays your head and ruffles your hair. ‘Get back to your drinks. I’ll get out of here while you distract them, ok?’

You both laugh, but nonetheless split ways. You go back to the other cadets, forgetting you’d even seen Ace by the 5th drink.

taglist: reply to be added

© kodydrs

all rights and reserves are copyright to kodydrs on tumblr. this material is not to be copied or translated.

⇦ part I

[elenasalvatore94]

The Push and Pull - 5

Hello, my people, ready for more? Let's go!

https://www.tumblr.com/elenasalvatore94/764986883797336065/the-yacht?source=share

(previous one)

Over the next few weeks, Chris and Franco couldn't seem to stay away from each other. Every race weekend brought them closer, but neither was willing to admit the depth of what they were feeling. It had started as just a physical attraction that exploded into something wild and undeniable. But now, it was becoming something else, something neither of them had anticipated.

Chris threw herself into her work, avoiding any unnecessary thoughts about Franco that weren't strictly professional. She was a journalist, after all, and he was an F1 driver-a much younger one at that. Her reputation mattered, and she wasn't going to be another one of those women tangled in a scandal with a driver. Yet, every time she was near him, her resolve crumbled.

They didn't talk about it-about what they were doing, or what it meant. They were good at pretending it was nothing. Casual, spontaneous, no strings attached. But beneath the surface, the tension between them simmered.

The problem was that Chris could feel Franco slipping under her skin. His cheeky smiles, the way his green eyes lingered on her in the paddock, his light touches that left her aching for more knew she was in trouble.

After one particularly tense interview post-qualifying, Franco caught her wrist as she tried to walk away, pulling her behind a trailer where no one could see them. His eyes were blazing with that familiar intensity that had her breath catching in her throat.

"Why are you running away from me, Chris?" he asked, his voice low but firm, his grip on her wrist firm but not painful.

"I'm not," she lied, hating the way her voice trembled slightly.

Franco stepped closer, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. "You are. You've been avoiding me all week. I thought we were having fun."

Chris narrowed her eyes, trying to keep her defenses up. "We are. That's all it is, right? Fun."

For a second, something flashed in Franco's something that looked dangerously like pain it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He stepped back, his expression guarded now, his usual cocky grin reappearing. "Right. Just fun."

Chris felt a twinge of guilt but pushed it aside. She wasn't about to get swept up in the fantasy of whatever this was. Franco was young, and she wasn't going to fall into some doomed affair with a rookie driver.

But later that evening, when they found themselves alone in a hotel elevator after a media event, all her defenses crumbled again. The moment the doors closed, Franco's hand was on her waist, pulling her against him. His lips found hers in a hungry kiss, and she melted into him, all her resolve shattering like glass.

"You're driving me crazy," Franco murmured against her mouth, his voice thick with need. "I can't stop thinking about you."

Chris gasped as his hands roamed her body, slipping under the hem of her dress. "We shouldn't be doing this," she managed to whisper, though her body betrayed her by pressing closer to him.

"We shouldn't," Franco agreed, his breath hot against her ear. "But tell me you don't want me right now."

Chris opened her mouth to say something-anything-but no words came out. Instead, she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into another kiss, losing herself in the sensation of him. The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open, but neither of them paid any attention. Franco quickly pushed her into the hallway, guiding her toward the first door he could find.

They stumbled into an empty conference room, locking the door behind them. The room was dimly lit, the large table in the center dominating the space. Franco wasted no time, hoisting Chris onto the edge of the table as his hands made quick work of her dress. She tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head and letting her hands roam over his chest, relishing the feeling of his toned muscles beneath her fingers.

Their kisses grew more frantic, more desperate as if they couldn't get enough of each other. Franco's hands slipped between her legs, and Chris moaned into his mouth, her body already aching for him. He didn't waste any time, pushing her panties aside and entering her with one swift movement that made her cry out in pleasure.

Chris wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper, her nails digging into his shoulders as he thrust into her, hard and fast. The sound of their bodies moving together filled the room, along with their ragged breathing and the occasional moan. It was wild, and intense, just like the first time, but there was something more to it now. Something deeper.

Chris felt herself teetering on the edge again, her body tensing as Franco hit all the right spots. She tried to hold back, but it was no use. Her climax crashed over her, pulling her under, and she cried out his name as waves of pleasure washed over her.

Franco followed soon after, his body shuddering as he buried himself inside her one last time. They stayed like that for a moment, tangled together on the edge of the table, their bodies still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened.

When Franco finally pulled away, he collapsed into the chair next to the table, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. Chris leaned back on her elbows, her heart racing as she tried to process everything.

They didn't speak for a while, the silence between them heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Chris sat up, adjusting her dress as she looked at Franco. His green eyes met hers, and for a moment, something passed between them-something unspoken but undeniable."Maybe this is a bad idea," Chris said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Franco's jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he just looked at her, his expression unreadable.

After a long pause, he stood up and grabbed his shirt, pulling it back on. "Maybe," he said, his voice flat. "But we both know it's not over."Chris wanted to argue, wanted to tell him that it had to be over-that they couldn't keep doing this. But deep down, she knew he was right. This wasn't over. It was just the beginning.

As Franco left the room, leaving Chris alone with her thoughts, she realized that she was deeper than she had ever intended to be. And no matter how hard she tried to deny it, something had already changed between them.

The question was: how long could they keep pretending it didn't mean anything?

[companionjones]

Days, Weeks, Months, Years (5/10)

Pairing: fwb!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: More angst, Reader wears a dress

1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // 10

*******

Two weeks, and Bucky didn't come anywhere near you as he tried to bed Valentina. You didn't leave your room unless it had to do with work, and you prayed that Bucky didn't realize that Natasha's increasingly nasty looks aimed at him and Tina had anything to do with you.

Tony wouldn't admit it, but you were sure the party he threw was to cheer you up. You loved his parties. Scratch that. You loved going to Tony's parties with Bucky. That was the part that you didn't think anyone realized.

Still, you went. You almost threw up watching Bucky flirt with Tina the whole night. That was, until Pietro walked up to you.

"Did you know blue is my favorite color?"

Glancing down at the dark blue dress you were wearing, you laughed for the first time in weeks. "I coulda guessed that."

Pietro smiled. "And I could have guessed--right, I might add-- that you would look beautiful in such a color."

"Thanks, Maximoff. Only here for the party, huh? Then it's back to Jersey?"

He cocked his head to the side. "Eh, I could be convinced to stay longer. Perhaps by you?"

Was this conversation really going where you thought it was going?

"Pietro." A cold voice greeted.

You turned in surprise to see Bucky there. Tina was clinging to his arm. Hurt panged through your chest.

Quicksilver remained cool. "James. I didn't see you coming. How are you and your new girlfriend enjoying the party?"

"We're not together," clarified Bucky.

That started a slew of emotions inside you. At first, your heart soared, then it crashed to the ground as it remembered how many times you and Bucky had clarified that for others about yourselves.

It was then that you realized what you had to do.

"Hey, Buck? Can I speak to with you outside? Alone please?"

Bucky obeyed. You brought him out to a nearby balcony. As soon as the two of you were alone, Bucky backed you against a wall and kissed you.

You took advantage of him misreading the situation so badly and kissed him back because you knew it would be your last time.

You were the one to break the kiss. "Two years," you told him, then caught your breath. "It took me two years to get you to look at me like that."

Bucky's brow furrowed.

"She had you the first day." You smiled, despite the tears that were forming. "...I've lied, Buck. I've lied to you for four months and sixteen days...I can't do this anymore."

He must've known then because he started backing away from you.

Tears fell from your eyes at the loss of contact. But you kept going. You kept that bitter smile on your face, too. "I think I'm gonna transfer."

"Where?"

You couldn't read his face. "I don't know," you laughed. "Jersey...Boston. Tony needs someone to look after the kid, right?"

You hadn't realized how bad things were with Bucky because he apparently thought that all problems between you and him could be solved with a kiss. He rushed forward to connect your lips again.

"Buck...Bucky...," you breathlessly warned, "James."

That did it.

Slowly, you looked up at him. Your expression must've been unreadable because you didn't even know what you were thinking. "...You have to let me go."

******* Author's Note: *enters awkwardly* Hey, I'm back. After over a month of not posting a story. I figured I'd skip over a Tyler Owens x fem!Reader smut I have in my roster and post this instead next because it's been so long. You guys will get that one next. As things stand right now, I should be posting every other day, and DWMY will be every other story post. Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlists. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

*******

Tag List: @sidraaaaaaaaa // @dontworryboutitsweetheartxx-blog // @mayusenpai666 // @onceithough // @greatenthusiasttidalwave // @shadowzena43 // @ampersam // @sebastians-love // @cjand10 // @silentwhisper666 // @supraveng

[ai0lisauce]

I need all of you to read this (#2)

If any of you were teens when Miraculous Ladybug was in its early seasons, you'll remember the absolute SWARM of anti-Lila Rossi fanfics. Lila Rossi as a character destroyed what fragile fan ecosystem we had in the fandom, and it got very toxic very fast. Now, I'm not proud to admit that I was ADDICTED to the Lila Rossi's Lies Are Exposed tag on AO3 back in the day, but one thing it did lead me to was this fic:

Word count: 23.6k

Rating: T+

Chapters: 7/7

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Relationships: Alya Césaire/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Kagami Tsurugi, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe (I know all those ship tags look intimidating but just trust me on this one)

Author: @captorations

I started reading this because at the time I was getting really sick of the constant finger-pointing fics had taken in the fandom. Character traits were blown to the absolute extremes (I'm sure a lot of us have at least seen one fic out there where Mari is an untouchable goddess who kills/destroys everyone around her and Felix is also there), and one character in particular got a LOT of hate.

Alya baby, I'm so sorry for what they did to you.

Told from Alya's POV, we jump in the MOMENT she realizes Lila's been lying to her. It's not much of a spoiler since it's mentioned in the fic summary, but here instead of being a bad liar with just plot armor, Lila is a bad liar with magic abilities (that quite honestly makes so much more sense than whatever the show was trying to do).

I originally fell in love with Miraculous because I loved the idea of a fun 'villain of the week' show with a super unique magic system that I felt was fresh and mysterious enough to keep me interested. Where the show has frankly gone off the rail, this fic's exploration of ML's magic system makes the original show make sense. And that's really what I'm trying to get at here. This fic drew me in for the premise of Alya being the best friend we know she's supposed to be, but I stayed for the wonderful analysis and exploration of ML's world and lore.

If you're like me, you get a bit intimidated by a ton of ship tags. And I get it, sometimes it's just not my cup of tea, but I think the balance of all the characters here is well done. The characters act and think like actual teenagers, and the romance is mostly on the side, so if you're here for plot like me, it won't hinder your reading experience.

Some great quotes:

It hadn’t been a sound so much as a feeling, a moment as fleeting and precise as a lightning strike. Her senses had stretched beyond her body and told her, in no uncertain terms, that someone here was on the verge of shattering Lila’s glamour for themselves. (Ch 5) Rena was good at that, certainly. Good enough to ensure every non-fakeout illusion she’d cast for Lila had just a touch of imperfection. (Ch 6)

I just think this fic deserves more attention for being SO damn good. when I started writing my ML ATLA au, I came back to this fic because I loved how the magic system was expanded out and made to feel so natural.

10/10, would read this a million times again. Happy reading and stay saucy!

<Previous Post, Next Post>

[6rookie-writer0110]

Lucky Dice

Pete Davidson x Male Reader

Request - Since no one had me this yet so I want to know if you can make a Pete Davidson x male reader where the reader and Pete been dating for 6 months secretly. So they finally think it's a good time to come out about the relationship. Instead of posting it on social media they instead make very large hints on SNL like in one skit Pete holds his boyfriend close

You and Pete are in the backroom alone. You are sitting down on the couch, then he placed his chin on your arm.

“You seem nervous,” Pete said.

“Yeah, I'm nervous. We are going to let everyone know that we are dating” You said.

“We don't have to do this if you don't want to,” Pete said.

“We can do it. We will be fine” You said.

You kiss him on the lips then he kisses you back.

You and Pete have been dating in secret. You are the first guy that he started to date. You and Pete are always supportive of each other and you have always been there when he had meltdowns. You and Pete were friends first then he made the first move.

You and Pete go on stage and act out the first skit. In the second skit, you and Pete have to play as firefighters and everyone can see his hand on your waist. But you try to hold in your laughter but you try not to laugh at the names. In the third skit, you and Pete have to do a musical but you two don't sing. Pete tries not to laugh and he is holding your hand tight. His castmates are funny and you tried not to laugh but it was very noticeable. He hides his face on your shoulder and you struggle to say your lines. Then Pete kissed you on the cheek and you were in shock. When the skit was ending, you two were in the back but everyone noticed that Pete gave you a peck on the lips. You couldn't help to smile and he was just smiling.

You and your band have to perform a song. Before getting on stage you told him the song was for him and he starts to blush. Pete is enjoying the song and people notice how Pete is enjoying the song.

After the show, you and Pete didn't go to the after-party. You went to his apartment and you won't check your phone all night.

“The song was great” Pete smiled.

“Thanks. I'm going to avoid my phone for the night” You said.

“Why? Oh, is it because we came out” Pete said.

“Yeah, I never did anything like that before,” You said.

“It’s new to me also. I like how you didn't pressure me to do it. Stay the night” Pete said.

It was his idea to, show hints during skits.

“Okay, I will stay the night” You smiled.

All Night, you and Pete didn't check online about SNL. But a lot of people started to talk about you and Pete. Your social media platforms got so many comments about Pete and more. Instead, you and Pete had dinner and then talked about something else. Then you watch TV on the couch and Pete lies on top of you and you wrap your arms around him.

“Don’t move you are comfortable,” Pete said.

“I don't think I can't move,” You said.

“I’m comfortable now so what's the point of moving,” Pete said.

“Whatever” You giggled.

You and Pete watched TV for a little while, and then you two fell asleep.

✯ ✯ ✬ ✯

The next day… you checked online because you got so many alerts. There were so many questions about you and Pete. You showed Pete the questions on your accounts, he is surprised to see so many.

“That is a lot,” Pete said.

“Yeah. I didn't answer anyone’s question or make a statement” You said.

“Let’s not worry about them right now. Let's go get breakfast” Pete said.

“Good idea, because I'm starving,” You said.

You kiss him on the lips then he kissed you back.

You leave the apartment with Pete. While holding hands and heading to the restaurant, you and Pete hold hands. But a fan took a picture of you and Pete together and then posted it online. The picture went viral but you didn't focus on your phone. Pete deleted all his accounts a few weeks back.

——-

You are on your phone and you keep seeing new alerts about your relationship. Now, gossip blogs are talking about you and Pete. Everyone is talking about the skits that you two did together. Everyone wants to know if the relationship is serious or not.

You are doing a live Q&A on Instagram. You start to answer some random questions. While answering questions you are baking cookies. Then Pete walked in and you told him what you were doing, and then he waved at the phone.

“Here’s a question, is Y/n your boyfriend?” Pete said.

“Am I?” You asked.

Pete put his arm around your torso and pulled you closer.

“He is my boyfriend but I think he is after my money” Pete teased.

You playfully smacked his chest and he starts to laugh.

“Don’t lie” You said.

“I was just kidding, babe. He is my boyfriend and we have been dating for six months” Pete said.

Suddenly, you see positive comments for you and Pete.

“The other question is, how did we meet” You said.

“Oh, I remember. He was taking a picture with Sarah Paulson and I photobombed the picture then Pedro Pascal introduced him to me. We became friends then we started dating in secret. Babe, these cookies taste so good” Pete said.

“It’s true. I have the picture at my place in a frame” You said.

Then he kissed you on the cheek and he ate more cookies. Then you and Pete see comments from people who want to see the picture. Much later, you posted the picture and you started to get many likes and comments. Pete ate most of the cookies and he gave you the puppy eyes for you to bake more.

[lifespectator]

Spasibo

Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: After time of being together, Wanda shows you how much your love means to her.

Warnings: None, just fluff

Translation: Spasibo = Thank you (In russian according to google)

A/N: Well, I've been away from writing for like 6 months. I know this is probably not what you want or expect. But I felt the need to write something to get myself going again. Plus, it's been a year since I made my first post on Tumblr (June 24, 2022) so why not? Hope ya'll enjoy, though :)

"Are we there yet, Wands?" You asked, Wanda, who was pulling you by the arm.

You trusted your girlfriend with all your heart, but after walking blindfolded for 10 minutes and tripping with rocks for a couple of times, you were impatient to know where she was taking you. Wanda wanting to do something like this was completely out of her normal behavior but you always supported her actions, so you went with it.

Wanda giggled. "Relax, boo. We're almost there." Wanda answered. "I promise you will love the surprise." She reassured.

"Great, I was beginning to think you were trying to murder me." Your joke won you a glare from Wanda that went unnoticed by you thanks to the blindfold. Instead, she decided to play along.

"Throwing that possibility out the window was your first mistake." Wanda murmured loud enough for you to hear. A blank expression plastered on your face until you heard the young witch burst in laughter. She looked at you to notice your serious expression.

"Oh, come on. It was funny." Wanda said. You gave in and chuckled. "Ok, fine. You did get me there." You surrendered to Wanda's claims.

You kept walking with Wanda leading the way. Some minutes before, you realized that the floor below you was grass meaning that you were either at a park or an open field. Going to the park with Wanda was a normal thing. Both of you engage in that activity at least once or twice a week. The odd part is that Wanda insisted on going at the time when the dark of the night was completely filling the sky. Without forgetting that she had insisted on covering your eyes with a scarf she owned.

"You have some crazy ideas." You remarked. Wanda responded with an 'mhm'.

"In what aspect though?" Wanda asked, in a teasing tone. You first questioned what she meant but blushed when you caught on. Wanda smirked at your reaction.

"Control yourself now, we're here." Wanda informed. You exhaled as your hands reached to remove the scarf but was stopped by Wanda's own.

Wanda walked behind you. "Let me do it." She brought her hands up to the scarf. "Are you ready?" She asked, sounding rather enthusiastic.

"I am." you answered, eager to know what all this was about.

"Hope you like it." Wanda untied the scarf, finally letting you see again. After blinking a few times to get accustomed with light, what lied in front of you warmed your heart. A picnic blanket with a basket on top of it. She invited you to sit down on the blanket.

You sat next to her, admiring the candles that were also placed in the middle of the blanket. They were fake but they showed Wanda's attention to detail.

"This is so beautiful." You complimented Wanda's work, she offered her signature sweet smile in return.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm loving this." You admitted, the little stuff that Wanda did for you always showed how much she loved you. "But what are we celebrating?" You questioned.

Wanda looked at you, frowning. "Y/N, did you really forget?" Her tone made you gulp. Her mentioning your name with that tone showed that she was not pleased with your question.

"I- I'm sorry, I really don't remember." It scared you, since you didn't remember Wanda telling you anything and your anniversary of being with her was still months away. You felt your body shake a bit in nervousness.

Wanda got closer to you when she suddenly erupted in laughter. "Relax, I was joking." She confessed while still laughing.

"Damn you really did scare me this time." You said in relief. Wanda placed around you. "Oh, baby, please forgive me." She comforted, your hand reached for her hand that was on your shoulder and carefully placed yours on top of hers. "It's alright, Witchy. I could never stay mad at you."

Wanda smiled, taking her hands off yours and reached for the basket where she pulled out a champagne bottle and two flute glasses.

"While it's true that there isn't anything important to celebrate today." She handed you a glass. "Today I felt the need to celebrate our love because your love has made me stronger and has cured me in several ways." Wanda popped open the champagne bottle and poured some into your glass.

After pouring champagne into her glass, she put the bottle down and raised her glass to make a toast. "To our love." Wanda announced. You brought your glass, making contact with hers. Both of you giggling to the clicking noise.

"To our love." You said, offering a warm smile.

You and Wanda brought the glass up and drank from it. You were the first to bring it down and waited for Wanda. Once she brought it down, you moved closer to her and without hesitation, connected your lips to her. Wanda reciprocated with the same passion.

The kiss only ended because you pulled away to catch some air. You looked down to see her also panting. You pulled her close and she relaxed into you.

"This was really special, Wanda. Thank you." You said, being grateful for her. Only Wanda would do such a beautiful thing for you.

"Stay with me forever." Wanda told you. You ran your hand through her ginger hair. "Don't worry, I'll never leave." You assured her.

"Spasibo." Wanda muttered in a low breathy voice, resting her head on your chest.

"Did you say something, my love?" You asked, stroking her silky hair.

Wanda closed her eyes. "Just enjoying the moment." She answered in a soft tone. The only noise she wanted to hear in that moment was the thumping sound of your heart beat. To her, it was a demonstration of how much you loved being with her.

"That champagne looked expensive, where did you get it?" You asked in an attempt to start a conversation. Wanda shifted a little and looked up at you.

"A magician-" She stopped mid sentence and grinned. "Or witch in this case never reveals her secret." Wanda said. She wanted to laugh at the thought of Tony trying to find one of his many expensive bottles. She could apologize, in the event she was caught.

It didn't matter to her. What mattered to her in that instant was you being there with her. She was grateful for your love and attention. The young witch wants to use the rest of her life showing you how much that meant for her. Because your love was a medicine, fixing up all the open wounds.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

Word Count: 1,102

A/N: I would tag my masterlist but links don't work :,) (I'll be fixing it soon)