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yanderecrazysie · 11 months ago

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Twisted Zoo Chapter 4

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

Also @twistedcece @cenatour @ursinaw @xiaopleasecomehome @bearshideout @koebishrimpuwu @v-sh @help-whatdoimakemyusername @secret-potion @magmdnv @sunshine-for-serotonin @mel-star636 @silkkorchid @thatpersonuouknow @the-ace-reader @pamv11 @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @hrhqueenfox @goseew @luxthestrange @juno-of-wonderland @who-mst @despairingy-obsessed @lanxianschoenheit and @thisisafish123 wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me! (Some of the tags might not have worked, and I’m sorry if so!)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you.

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

Previous Part: Chapter Three

Next Part: Chapter Five

WARNINGS: none for now

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

Note 2: I was in a “blushy” mood when I wrote this

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The parrot had returned to his perch and was watching you curiously as you pulled out your notebook. You decided that you might as well go over and study him first, since he seemed eager enough to talk earlier.

“Hey, I never got your name,” you said, waving at the colorful-winged boy.

He gave you a big smirk, “Ace is the name, don’t forget it.”

You couldn’t help but think he was even a little more cocky than the peacocks. The way he smirked at you made you feel like he was grating on your nerves a little.

“Well, my name is (Y/n), it’s nice to meet you,” you said, smiling brightly.

“I’m not going to remember that,” Ace said matter-of-factly, “Too many keepers, you know?”

You tried to keep the annoyance from showing on your face, but it must have shown a little, because Ace’s grin was widening. For whatever reason, he was toying with you.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’ll be taking some notes,” you said, holding your notebook up for him to see.

“I do mind,” Ace shot back without hesitation.

“What do you want to do then?” You asked, biting back a sigh, “Did you want to talk?”

For the first time, the mask slipped. The smug grin disappeared, revealing something more vulnerable, “Everyone that comes through just makes me repeat things like I’m some sort of circus freak.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, heart clenching at his confession. You could picture little kids trying to get him to repeat after them like a… well, a parrot, “I won’t do that to you. We can just have normal conversations.”

Ace’s eyes averted from your figure and a slightly blush rose on his cheeks, “Yeah, I mean, I’d like that.” He raised his arm to shield his blush from you, “Ah- I, um, we can talk next time.”

“Are you sure? I’d love to talk with you.”

“Yeah…” the redness spread to Ace’s ears. You hadn’t meant to make him blush, but you couldn’t help but think it was cute. You were disappointed when he spread his wings and flew off to the birdhouse, disappearing inside.

You pulled out your notebook and began to write:

DAY 1

PARROT

The parrot halfling’s name is Ace. His wings and hair are more orange than red like in normal parrots. Other than the wings on his back and the way his feet curl into talons, he looks human.

He’s able to hold conversations easily and probably knows more languages than the average human. He seems to like retreating to his birdhouse to eat and have privacy.

Next, you decided, you’d go to the raven, since his cage was right next to Ace’s.

The cage appeared empty and you quickly realized he must be inside his birdhouse. Because of the color of his hair and wings, it was impossible to pick him out among the shadows in the entrance.

“Deuce!” You called out, “How are you doing?”

Immediately, there was movement inside the birdhouse and Deuce’s head poked out, staring out at you, eyes glittering with excitement despite his calm expression. Dark blue wings spread and, before you knew it, his talons were digging into the perch at the edge of his cage.

“Remember?” Deuce asked.

“Huh?” Your mind went blank, unsure of what he was trying to ask you.

“Remember?” Deuce asked again, this time pointing at his chest.

“Oh! Yes, I remember you.”

A soft smile spread across Deuce’s lips and you returned it with an even brighter grin.

“You? You name?” Deuce pointed at you and you startled. You had forgotten to tell him your name!

“I’m (Y/n)! It’s nice to officially meet you, Deuce,” you held out a hand for him to shake, but he merely stared at it in confusion.

“Deuce, you idiot, you're supposed to shake her hand,” someone’s voice snorted. To your surprise Ace had emerged from his birdhouse to poke fun at the bird in the cage next to his own.

Deuce reached out and grabbed your hand and shook it. His hands were so smooth you were amazed he wasn’t using moisturizer. You released his hand but he kept holding on to yours.

“Um, Deuce, you have to let go,” you laughed awkwardly.

Deuce’s face hardened and he tightened his hand around your own. You tried to pull away but he still didn’t let go.

“Let go Deuce!” You said sharply.

Deuce looked startled and dropped your hand. His face fell and he hunched his shoulders, looking ashamed.

“It’s okay,” you tried to reassure him, but it was too late, he was already flying back to his birdhouse.

Ace made a disgusted noise and disappeared into his own birdhouse once more.

Sighing shakily, you pulled out your notebook again.

DAY 1

RAVEN

The raven halfling’s name is Deuce. He doesn’t seem to know much English. Earlier, he had trouble opening the salad container.

He seemed to like holding my hand, as he didn’t want to let go.

“Let’s go talk to the flamingos,” you said to yourself, walking over to their cage.

The flamingos were on the opposite side of the cage, but you were hesitant to step inside. The enclosure was designed to look like the wetlands, and you were afraid your shoes may get absolutely ruined.

Oh well, you figured, I can just get new shoes if that happens.

Cater and Riddle looked up as you entered the cage, the gate closing noisily behind you. They watched you curiously as you cheerfully made your way towards them. Suddenly, the ground gave way and your left leg sank up to the knee in water. You lost your balance and started to fall towards the large pond taking up half their exhibit. You let out a strangled cry as the water grew closer.

Then, everything stopped. You were suddenly aware of hands holding your waist and forearm, keeping you from plunging straight into the water.

“Nice catch, Riddle!” Cater gasped, his hands joining the smaller man’s to help pull you onto dry land.

Shakily, you said, “Thank you guys so much!”

Riddle turned his head away, but nodded bashfully, a light pink dusting his cheeks. Cater grinned at him knowingly.

“I just wanted to say ‘hi’ to you two and introduce myself,” you explained, “I’m (Y/n), and I’ll be visiting you every few days.”

“Not every day?” Cater pouted. Maybe it was your imagination, but Riddle looked a little disappointed too.

“No, sorry,” you apologized.

“Tired,” Riddle said sharply.

“It is getting late,” Cater nodded.

Curiously, you asked, “How do you know English so well, Cater?”

Cater beamed, “I was a pet.”

A pet? Keeping a wild halfling as a pet somehow felt worse than keeping them in a zoo, but you couldn’t explain why. At least Cater didn’t seem to be bothered by his past.

You looked up at the sky and cursed- it really was getting dark. If you wanted to see the peacocks before darkness fell, you’d have to hurry.

“I’m sorry, I should go say ‘hi’ to the peacocks,” you told the pair.

Riddle nodded and began to walk away. Cater pouted but nodded as well. You quickly jotted down a few notes in your notebook.

DAY 1

FLAMINGOS

The two flamingos are named Riddle and Cater. They’re different from the other birds in that they have webbed feet instead of talons.

Cater is a former pet, so he knows English pretty well.

You felt like your notes were getting shorter and shorter, but you were feeling tired today. In the end, the notes were for your eyes only unless you made a discovery. So far the only thing out of the ordinary was Deuce’s hand holding, but even that wasn’t anything surprisingly. Halflings wouldn’t know what makes humans uncomfortable, after all.

You found yourself slipping into the peacock enclosure without even thinking about it. All three of them looked at you, so you smiled and waved at them. Rook waved back enthusiastically, but Epel continued to stare and Vil looked away haughtily.

Once you were close to them, you found yourself admiring Vil. Despite his attitude, he really was gorgeous, “You’re so beautiful, Vil.”

Vil’s eyes went wide and he looked at you in surprise for a moment before a gentle smile spread across his lips, “Thank you.”

Epel and Rook looked just as stunned as you felt. Maybe he wasn’t as prickly as you had originally thought.

“You’re Epel, right?” You asked the adorable lilac-haired peacock.

Epel nodded and, before you could say anything else, he sternly said, “Not cute!”

“What?” You couldn’t figure out what he meant. Was he saying Vil wasn’t cute? You weren’t cute?

“Mademoiselle,” Rook smiled and brushed his fingers along your arm, “He not like cute.”

“He doesn’t like being called cute?” You asked.

Rook and Epel both nodded.

“Alright, then I won’t call you cute,” you reassured him, “Is handsome okay?”

Epel nodded, tucking his chin against his chest in embarrassment.

You giggled and introduced yourself, “Well, I’m (Y/n)! I’ll be visiting you every few days.”

“Nice to meet you, Mademoiselle,” Rook said.

Epel stumbled over his words, “Nice to… meet you.”

Vil didn’t say anything but he gave you a nod of acknowledgment. You pulled out your notebook.

DAY 1

PEACOCKS

Peacock halflings have a fan of feathers protruding from their backs, setting them apart from all other bird halflings. The peacocks at the zoo are named Vil, Rook, and Epel.

Rook is friendly, but the other two, especially Vil, aren’t as interested in me.

Note: Don’t call Epel “cute”.

The peacocks looked tired, Epel having already sat down and pulled his wings around him. It was best if you went to the bird you had saved for last- the owl.

You waved goodbye, only receiving a responding wave from Rook. A few moments later, you were closing the gate behind you and heading over to the owl’s cage.

The green-haired owl was awake and chowing down on his salad. He looked at you curiously, a gentle smile gracing his lips as you approached him.

“I’m (Y/n), I never had the chance to ask you your name.”

“I’m Trey,” the owl responded, his voice smooth. You were surprised to realize that he wore glasses, and wondered how on earth they did eye tests on halflings.

“How did they know you needed glasses?” You asked. After all, it’s not like they could have him read something out, since halflings couldn’t read.

Trey smiled, “I hit things. With my wings. I fly. Fly into things.”

“That makes sense,” you mused, “So it’s better now?”

“Yes, better now,” Trey nodded.

You couldn’t explain what it was, but for some reason, the way Trey looked down at you made your stomach twist unpleasantly. It was like he was the one researching you. His eyes were sharp, greedily taking in every movement, while the simple smile remained glued to his face.

He put you on edge.

“Well…” your smile wavered, “I’m going to take some notes.”

“No more talking?” Trey asked. You couldn’t tell if it was your imagination or not, but the smile seemed… off. As though he were mocking you.

You had a feeling this halfling was much more intelligent than he let on.

“Sorry,” you forced a bright smile, “I’m going home soon, so I need to do this.” You pulled out your notebook and began to write quickly.

DAY 1

OWL

The owl halfling’s name is Trey. He has a barn owl’s wings, but he has green hair. He wears glasses.

Note: Keep your eye on him.

You were so tired, you were probably imagining things. Either way, you were ready to get home as soon as possible.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland

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the-fiction-witch · 5 months ago

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I Like Him

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Oscar Tully Couple - Oscar X Reader Reader - (OC) Jaerra Targaryen [Daughter of Daemon Targaryen & Rhea Royce] Rating - 12 Word Count - 1121

Requested -

Hello Miss Witch! Can I request an Oscar Tully story in your “Boys Yet To Have Books” please? The reader is a Targaryen (probably just the same age as him and named Jaerra) and has a he-dragon, she flew to Harrenhal to accompany Daemon and then met Oscar and just some cute interactions between them that grew into something. It’s up to how you will write it and can have lots of parts too because I will love it either way. I hope you read this request. Thank you! <33

The dark echos of Harrenhal seem to sicken Daemon the longer he remains, food seems to turn to ashes in his mouth, wine soured, his mind a mess of his own failings and falls.

“I’m surrounded, by witches, and idiots.” He sighed to himself,

Suddenly a familiar sound echoes through Harrenhal’s half-melted halls, the sound of a dragon's triumphant cry. Which caused Daemon to perk up and move quickly for the first time in months. He headed out to the courtyard part of him hopeful to see Syrax across the sky, or perhaps even MoonDancer.

But a deep blue dragon with shimmering white scales fluttered down onto the grass,

“Iēdar lilagon…” he sighed, He approached the dragon glaring down at its rider, “Why did she send you?”

“Because you're causing chaos on your own,” Jaerra answered as she climbed down from her dragon, wearing her tall boots and grey washed-out leather trousers, a deep blue jacket with a high low skirt and dragon clasps down her chest, her long Targaryen blonde hair with a single dark brown streak by her face knotted up into a tight braid.

“I already have enough to deal with,” He sighed,

“Hence why I’m here.” She said pulling off her leather gloves and walking past him, “You’ve been causing enough problems around here, so she thought I’d be best to come. Plus everyone else is far too busy to be your babysitter.”

“Busy!” He said as he followed her,

“Her grace is busy, planning wars and alliances,”

“And what does she think I’ve been doing!”

She rolled her eyes and continued, “Jacaerys is defending his claim at her side -”

“Baela and Rheana?”

“Baela is beside her betrothal, as she should be. Rheana is with Aegon and Viserys in the Vale.”

He sighed, “I’d have taken Corlys before you.”

“He is of far to high priority.” She glared, “You get me. If you’d have been more careful I wouldn’t be needed and I could be patrolling.”

“So that’s what she’s got you doing? Patrolling?”

“Ravens are slow, men even slower. Dragonback is the best way to get sights of our lands and the movements on them.” She explained, “Speaking of which, the riverlords are here.”

“They haven’t-”

“They haven’t arrived yet but they will in an hour, I flew over them.” She answered before she went inside,

“...Fucking-” He sighed following her, “We have an hour, time to change into a gown for the Riverland lords.”

“Alright,” She shrugged, “Off you go, to get dressed.” She glared,

“I meant you.”

“Seems a waste of my time.” she sighed, “We are at war, gowns seem pointless at this point,”

“You are … so much of your mother,” He barked,

She chuckled, “Is that meant to insult me?” She smiled, “I’d rather be a spitting image of my mother… than anything like you.” she spat, “Now let's get this sorted out before we all end up on spikes in Kings Landing.”

Daemon sat at the head of the table in Harrenhalls Grand chamber, Jaerra to his side with two seats between them, as in walked the Lord of the river lands. Jaerra raised an eyebrow given this was not the man from the many lords she saw from Dragonback whom she expected to be the lord. Lord Oscar Tully made his way in dressed in his fine amour, curls messy from his helmet. He simply nodded as a greeting to Daemon and his eyes flicked to Jaerra, he did a double take but focused his eyes forward.

“My condolences on the passing of your grandser.” Daemon spoke, “But the crown congratulates you on your ascension to the head of your house. And Lord Paramount of the Riverlands” He explained, “Truly Glorious well done,”

“I did nothing,” Oscar answered,

“Nevertheless, you are here which is the important thing.” Daemon nodded,

“You were quick enough to dismiss me before.”

“You were of no significance to me then.”

Jaerra sighed, rolling her eyes a little.

“Now. I shall have my great host you have a decision to make.” Daemon stood from his chair mostly to avoid the eyes of Jaerra, “Presume it is clear to you which is the right one.”

“You will forgive me, your grace… I am green. In this sort of matter. As you so kindly point out, but it does seem to me that you’ve made rather a mess here.” Oscar explained making sure to meet Daemon's eyes as he walked around him, “Countenancing barbarities in the queen's name.”

Jaerra choked back a small laugh but made no secret of her smile, as she rested her feet on the table,

“Who’s side are you on?” Daemon glared the boy down,

“... The river lands are held together by oaths.” Oscar nodded, “House Tully swore on oath to King Viserys Targaryen, We recognize the authority of the named heir Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen… And your own as her king consort.”

“Good.” Daemon nodded, “Then we should go to face your vassals and you shall call your banners to war,”

“That might be difficult my king,”

“Well… I was told they would come to heal When house tully declared it’s allegiance.”

“That… may be the case,” Oscar nodded, “But it is yet to be seen that they will heed my authority, as young as it is.”

“You are no older than my daughter.” Daemon chuckled as his eyes met Jaerra,

“... I’d further follow her than you.”

“Power and control don’t have an age. Merely a mindset.” Jaerra smiled,

Oscar nodded to her, “And there is another problem… they all hate you.” he turned back to Daemon,

“Everyone hates him.” Jaerra spoke up again, “Never stopped him before.”

“I don’t need their love, I need their swords.” Daemon glared,

The two in a deep moment of staring before the door opened,

“You’re grace, My lord, the river lords await. I fear we cannot delay them any longer.”

“Of course,” Daemon nodded, “Come along lord Oscar,”

Oscar nodded and walked out hand on his sword,

“You too.” He demanded to Jaerra,

She sighed setting her feet down on the stone floor and made her way out the door, but turned around as she passed Daemon walking backwards out the door, “I like him.”

“You would.” he glared, forcing her out with him.

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mediocre-shark-tales · 1 month ago

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Azerbajian GP Weekend Part 2

Masterlist

The engine hummed beneath me, a steady rhythm that barely masked the tension coiling in my chest. Halfway through the Azerbaijan Grand Prix, I was still holding P10. A solid position, but I couldn’t help the restless fire burning in my veins. The car felt good—responsive, nimble—but it wasn’t enough. Not for me. Not when I had to prove so much more than the others ever expected.

Santino’s words echoed in my mind like an unbearable buzz. I’d barely had a chance to catch my breath from the barrage of rumors swirling around me when his latest attempt to undermine me dropped like a bomb. Santino Ferrucci, a man who had never seen the value in anyone else unless it served him, was now playing his cards to feed the gossip machine. The same ex-teammate who’d made it clear from the moment I stepped into the F2 paddock that he wanted nothing to do with me. The same guy who didn’t even give me the chance to prove myself before deciding I was nothing more than a distraction. Now, somehow, he had the media eating out of his hand, painting me as some kind of problem child, someone who didn’t belong.

I gripped the steering wheel, teeth clenched, my eyes narrowing as I weaved through the unforgiving turns of the Baku City Circuit. The whispers—those rumors—were becoming louder and louder in the background of my mind. The media. The drivers. My ex-teammate. They all thought they could write my story for me, that they could decide my worth before I ever had a chance to prove myself.

But they were wrong.

I could feel the heat rising in me. The pressure to be perfect. To show them all that I was more than just a headline. That I was more than Santino’s petty attempts to tear me down. He didn’t know half of it. Didn’t understand how hard I’d worked, how much I’d sacrificed, or what I had to overcome just to be here. Every inch of my success had been earned, fought for—not given. And I wasn’t about to let a jealous ex-teammate or a handful of shallow opinions take that away from me.

As I entered the DRS zone, I could see the cars ahead of me, their tail lights glowing like targets. I knew I had to stay focused. Keep my head clear. If I was going to finish this race the way I wanted—no, the way I needed to—I couldn’t let their words break me.

With a snap of my fingers on the steering wheel, I activated the DRS. The rush of speed surged through me, and I pulled in on the cars ahead, inching closer to the top six. I didn’t have to look back to know that the battle for the points was heating up behind me, but I could feel the fire inside me intensifying with each lap, fueled by the hatred Santino had tried to spread.

They thought I’d fall. They thought the rumors would hold me back. They thought I couldn’t handle it.

But I was going to prove them wrong.

I floored the throttle, my mind locked in on the finish line. With every corner, every straight, I could feel the anger, the frustration, and the hunger building inside me. I wasn’t just racing against these drivers—I was racing against the world that had already counted me out. By the time I crossed the finish line, they wouldn’t just remember my name. They’d remember how hard I fought to earn my place.

P6.

It wasn’t just a position on the board. It was my victory. My revenge against the whispers, the lies, and the people who underestimated me.

And as the checkered flag waved in the distance, I knew one thing for sure: I would never, ever let anyone define me again.

The celebrations following the end of the race were a blur of cheers, high-fives, and the kind of joy that made all the hard work worth it. A smile finally returned to my face as it sunk in—I had done it. P6. I had crossed that finish line ahead of so many doubters, my heart racing with a mixture of exhaustion and triumph.

It felt surreal. After all the rumors, all the noise, all the moments of doubt—I had pushed through. And not only had I made it to the top ten, but I had also outperformed my own teammate, who had finished just behind me in P7. The pride I felt wasn’t just for the result, but for what it represented. I wasn’t just a placeholder. I wasn’t just surviving in this paddock. I was racing. I was competing. I was proving that I belonged here, every bit as much as anyone else.

Franco caught my eye across the paddock, grinning from ear to ear as he raised his fist in my direction. We’d both pushed so hard, and now, we had something to celebrate. It felt good to finally have something that belonged to me—something I had earned, without anyone’s help or approval.

I glanced over at the screen showing the final race standings, and there it was: P6. The numbers didn’t lie, and neither did my efforts. This race wasn’t just a win on the board—it was a win for everything I had fought against, everything I had pushed through. I had done more than prove myself to my team; I had proven something to myself. And that was worth celebrating.

Yet, when I finally reached the end of media pen, my smile quickly faded. I had barely stepped into the area when I saw who was waiting for me. Of course, it was him—the same interviewer who had tried to tear me down from the very beginning. The one who had asked all the probing, personal questions, pushing me to crack in front of the cameras. It wasn’t just that he had a way of twisting words; it was that he seemed to take pleasure in it.

I could see his smug expression as he adjusted his microphone, ready to ask the same pointed questions he always did. He had even been the one to interview my ex-teammate, Santino Ferrucci—the guy who had never once given me a chance to prove myself in F2, and whose lies about me had been used to fuel the worst rumors that followed me.

The thought of it was enough to make my blood simmer. I had worked my ass off to make it here, to get to this moment, and yet here I was again—staring down someone who was more interested in sensationalism than the hard work behind it all. It felt like a constant uphill battle, one I was tired of fighting, but I knew I couldn’t back down. Not now. Not when I had just shown the world what I was capable of.

I squared my shoulders, trying to push down the frustration rising in my chest. This wasn’t the time to show weakness, not with all that I had fought for hanging in the balance.

I took a deep breath, trying to maintain my composure as the interviewer’s voice broke through the hum of the paddock.

“So, y/n,” he began, his tone already carrying the sharp edge I knew all too well, “there's still a lot of talk about your time away from racing. Many people are wondering why you left F2 so abruptly. Some say it was just a matter of timing, that you were simply ‘training’ for F1... but others think there’s more to the story.”

I could feel my jaw tighten as he carefully crafted his words. He wasn’t just asking for information—he was fishing, poking at a wound I wasn’t ready to reopen. I could hear the whispers in his voice, the way he implied I was hiding something.

I clenched my fists, but kept my face neutral. “I've already said this before,” I replied, my voice steady despite the rising anger bubbling beneath the surface. “I left to train. I needed to focus on becoming the best version of myself, and I made the choice to step away so I could be ready for the challenges ahead. And honestly, that’s all there is to it.”

His eyes narrowed, not buying it for a second. He pressed on, undeterred. “Right, right. But... you didn’t mention much about what happened during that time. Rumors have been circulating—specifically about your sudden departure and your reasons for being away. You see, many believe you had personal matters going on, things that weren’t exactly... racing-related. Some have even suggested your absence was tied to... other things.” He let the last part hang in the air like a threat.

I could feel the heat rising in my chest, my fists tightening into balls of anger. I could already tell where this was going, and I wasn’t going to let him drag it out. He wasn’t going to paint me as some secretive, unprofessional driver just because of his own assumptions and the garbage people like Santino had been spreading.

I stared him down, my voice cutting through the tense air. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, my tone unwavering. “You can ask all the questions you want, but the truth is, you’re just speculating. And frankly, I’m tired of answering questions based on rumors. So if you’re looking for some juicy story about me, you’re not going to find it here. I’ve moved on, and so should you.”

The interviewer wasn’t backing down. He smirked, pushing further, almost daring me to break. “You know, some of these rumors have real consequences. People in the paddock have talked about you being too emotional, not cut out for this level of competition. And others... well, they wonder why you’ve clung so tightly to that turtle necklace. Surely that’s a little... odd, don’t you think?”

The words hit me like a slap in the face. He was baiting me, trying to get me to say something that would let him twist it into another story. But this time, I wasn’t going to let him get away with it. The anger that had been simmering in my gut finally boiled over.

I leaned forward, my eyes narrowing as I locked onto his smug expression. “You want to know why I wear this necklace?” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “You want to know what it means?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “It’s because of my mother. She passed away while I was away. I had to leave everything behind because she was dying. And now she’s gone. So if you want to keep throwing insults and rumors at me, go ahead. But you don’t know what it’s like to lose someone like that. You don’t know what I went through.”

The words hung in the air like a punch to the gut. The interviewer fell silent, his expression faltering as my words sank in. The entire paddock seemed to freeze, the tension hanging thick. I didn’t care about the cameras, the microphones, or the rumors anymore. This was the truth. My truth.

I took a steadying breath, still seething with anger, and stood up. “And as for the turtles,” I continued, my voice still shaking with emotion, “they’re a reminder of her. Not because I think I’m slow, but because she loved them. Because they remind me of her strength. She was a fighter. And I’m going to keep fighting for her. So you can keep spinning your stories, but I’m done talking to you.”

With that, I turned on my heel and walked away, leaving the stunned silence in my wake. I could feel every pair of eyes on me, but I didn’t care. The interview had turned into something else entirely—a moment of truth I wasn’t about to take back.

I didn’t know if I had silenced the interviewer or just made everything worse, but I didn’t care. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I had taken control. And if that meant walking away from this media circus, so be it. I had nothing to prove to them anymore.

I marched into my driver’s room, desperate for some space to breathe and escape from the chaos swirling around me. The weight of everything—rumors, lies, the pain of the day—settled deep in my chest, threatening to choke me. Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not now. Not here.

I paced the room, my fists clenched, trying to keep the floodgates closed. But then, just a minute or two later, I heard a knock at the door. My heart skipped a beat, and I forced myself to take a deep breath before walking over to answer it.

When I cracked the door open, I was met with the sight of Franco, flanked by Lewis and, for some reason, Charles. I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to deal with anyone right now.

Franco noticed my reluctance and offered me a softer, sad smile. It was enough to break through the anger clouding my mind.

“Please, Hermosa,” he said gently, his tone filled with concern. “Let us chat in private. Just a few minutes. Please.”

I glanced over at Lewis and Charles, who were standing behind Franco, their expressions unreadable but soft enough that I could tell they weren’t here to make things harder for me. With a sigh, I pushed the door open a little wider, stepping aside to let them in.

The moment they entered, the tension in the room seemed to lighten slightly, but it didn’t take away the knot that had formed in my stomach. I wanted nothing more than to curl up and be left alone, but I knew they were here to help—whether I liked it or not.

Charles’s voice cut through the silence in the room, surprising me. He wasn’t usually the first to speak up, but the sincerity in his words caught me off guard.

“First, I want to apologize,” he began, his expression softening. “For allowing myself to believe the rumors, even for a second. I should have known better, especially after all these years. And I’m sorry. I know I can’t fully understand what you’ve been going through, but I can relate to losing a parent before they truly got to see you succeed. It’s one of the worst feelings in the world. I may not know what it’s like to hide behind rumors to protect your pain, but I know the grief of losing someone close to you.”

His words hit harder than I expected, and I could feel the weight of his empathy in his tone. Charles smiled at me, a smile that held more vulnerability than I’d ever seen from him before.

“I want to offer you my help. I want to be someone you can turn to, someone who will listen without judgment,” he continued. “It’s definitely owed to you, after everything... after ignoring you just because of some baseless rumors.”

I didn’t know how to respond at first. My heart felt heavy with the realization that someone who had once been indifferent—if not cold—toward me, was now standing here, offering support when I needed it most. I blinked, trying to gather my thoughts before I spoke, but the sincerity of his apology left me momentarily speechless.

Franco stepped forward then, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Hermosa, you don't have to say anything right now. Just know that we're here for you, whenever you're ready."

For the first time in what felt like ages, I allowed myself to relax—if only for a moment. I was still angry. I was still hurt. But, perhaps, things were starting to change.

Lewis’s voice broke the moment of silence, his tone lighter than before. “You don’t have to worry about that interviewer anymore, by the way,” he said, his words catching me off guard.

I raised an eyebrow, confused. "What do you mean?"

Lewis smirked, leaning back slightly with a look of satisfaction in his eyes. “Well, as much as I would have loved to be the one to hand his ass back to him on a silver platter, Max beat me to it.” He chuckled, clearly amused by the turn of events. “At least we found something else to agree on.”

I couldn’t help but let out a small, surprised laugh at his casual tone. It was good to hear that Max had stood up for me again. Franco’s smile widened, clearly relieved by the lighter shift in the conversation. “Good. That man deserved it,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.

I nodded slowly, taking in what they had said. Despite the chaos of the day, it was comforting to know that not everyone believed the rumors or enjoyed feeding into the drama. I appreciated their support, even if it was difficult for me to fully let go of the anger still simmering inside.

"Thanks, Lewis," I said, finally finding my voice again. Lewis shrugged nonchalantly, his grin still there. "We’ve all been there at some point. It’s about time some of the nonsense gets put to bed, don’t you think?"

I nodded, feeling a small weight lift from my chest. Suddenly, Franco let out a soft laugh and, without warning, shoved his phone into my hands. "You’ve got to see this," he said, his voice full of amusement.

I looked at him, confused for a moment, before I glanced down at the phone. Franco had already queued up a video, and my eyes went wide as I saw Max’s familiar figure step into the frame right after I had stormed off.

Max stood at the media pen, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed as he stared directly at the interviewer who had just tried to tear me down. His voice cut through the air, sharper than I had ever heard it.

“If you want to keep making up lies about someone who’s just here to race, you can keep doing that,” Max started, his tone filled with frustration. “But don’t you ever come at her like that again. It’s one thing to talk trash, but you’ve crossed a line.”

The interviewer shifted uncomfortably, but Max wasn’t done. He stepped closer, his voice growing louder with each word, making sure everyone in the vicinity could hear him.

“You’ve been digging so deep, trying to unearth some dirty little secret, but all you’ve managed to do is expose yourself for what you really are—a pathetic excuse for a journalist," Max continued, his eyes burning with anger. "You think you know the full story, but you don’t know anything about what’s going on behind the scenes. You want to judge her? Let’s talk about your pathetic need to pry into people’s lives for a cheap headline."

He paused, letting the words hang in the air for a moment, giving the interviewer no room to respond.

"She's been protecting her family, dealing with a loss that most people would never understand. Her mother’s been gone for weeks now, and she’s been putting all of her energy into racing. All you’ve managed to do is twist that into something ugly. So next time you want to attack someone, maybe you should take a good look in the mirror and figure out who the real asshole is here.”

Max’s words hung in the air, silencing the crowd around him. The interviewer had no comeback, his face going pale. Max’s fierce defense had not only shut him down but had made it clear: he wasn’t going to let anyone continue to harass me without facing the consequences.

I stood there, a little in awe, feeling an unexpected warmth in my chest. Max had always been a competitor, but seeing him stand up for me like this... it was something else.

Franco let out a chuckle as I stared at the screen. "Max doesn't usually get involved in stuff like that, but... you’ve got to admit, it's nice to see him standing up for you."

I was almost speechless. Seeing Max, of all people, not just defend me but make such a statement to the media made me feel something I hadn’t expected—gratitude. I looked up at Franco, who was still grinning like a proud big brother.

“I... wow,” I muttered, still processing the video. “That’s... that’s really something.”

Franco smiled, his eyes softening as he watched me. “Told you. People are starting to see the truth.”

It was a small victory, but it felt like a step in the right direction. It was a reminder that, even in the midst of all the chaos, not everyone believed the rumors or was content to let them fly.

I exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the mix of emotions swirling inside me. "I guess maybe there's still hope for some of them, huh?"

"Absolutely," Franco said, his grin widening. "And you’ve got us. Always."

#x reader #f1 angst #driver!reader #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #max verstappen #charles leclerc #oscar piastri #lando norris #franco colapinto #lewis hamilton #carlos sainz #george russell #grill the grid #f1 grid x reader

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racinggirl · 7 months ago

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you always will be

a/n: As a dedication to our boy's FIRST FORMULA ONE WIN, here a story that hopefully will be appreciated and loved. It's very different from my usual stories, and it may need some sort of trigger warning or just a warning in general. We don't always get what we want, and life can really be a bitch. Everybody struggles, it might not always be seen. I'm here for you <3

Warnings: mentions of car accident, hospital, breakup, swearing, death, cemetery, and some fluff bc I'm not THAT cruel

Also, please leave a comment/reblog, anything that makes me feel like you absolutely loved this story. It can also be a tip, anything to make my writing better and more enjoyable for you, thank you

Enjoy 🧡

Winning a race was something he dreamt of. Winning a race meant all his worries disappeared like snow in the sun.

‘You can’t win, you always fuck up’

‘Russia 2021 was the closest you’d been to a win, you’ll never get that chance again’

‘You should have switched teams when you had the chance’

No more. He won, and he’d be damned if he would ever let any hate comment, any judging advice or any disrespectful tone push you further away from him than you already were. He won, but somehow it felt like he lost.

‘’Mate, I don’t get it. Help me understand, okay? You won your first Formula One race. You gave all of them haters a big fuck you. You proved them wrong. The team’s proud of you, everyone’s cheering you on.’’

It was true, everyone was proud of him, everyone cheered for him, chanting his name after the podium ceremony. Everyone. But one person.

‘’Hello? Lando?’’ Max seemed worried, he knew something was bothering his best friend, he knew him through and through. ‘’You’re confusing me, mate. What’s the matter? Aren’t you happy? You can’t be too hard on yourself now, mate, you wo-…’’

‘’It’s her!’’ He finally snapped, all the emotions he had bottled up and put in that jar, stashed away somewhere on the back shelf of his heart AND brain sneaked its way through and made a reappearance.

‘’I won! Yes, I fucking won! But at what cost?! I lost her mate! I won and she wasn’t here. That doesn’t mean I fucking won. I lost, I lost it all, I lost her…’’

Max let out a heavy sigh. He knew something was bothering his friend, and he had a slight feeling it would have had something to do with the girl that stole his heart. See, you and Lando go way back, and you’d always thought you’d end up together, whether it was in England, in Monaco, it didn’t matter, what mattered was that it’d always been the two of you together, till it wasn’t.

‘’Lando…’’ Here it was again, the 'I feel sorry for you, but you need to move on' speech, which sometimes Lando could appreciate, but not now, not at a moment like this. However, he remained silent.

‘’Look, mate, I know it’s hard, okay? You.. You’ve dreamt of this moment for years, and I’m sure she’d have been by your side in all those dreams, but…’’

‘’But reality is, she isn’t. I know Max, I know.’’ Lando ran his face through his hair, then over his face. ‘’I’m going to get a shower.’’

‘’Lando..’’

‘’I’m gonna shower, Max, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave and let me fucking shower!’’ Lando snapped, he never did, but today was full of too many emotions he couldn’t handle, too many mixed emotions that made the bucket spill over.

Raising his arms in defence, Max stepped back and nodded, slowly. He knew Lando needed time, but tonight was the after party, Zak had scheduled the flight for this evening back by a day, which meant they were planning on partying all night long.

‘’No, Lando, it’s not okay!’’ Your hands rose up in the air, toward your hair as you tugged on it, gently, but enough to let your frustrations out. ‘’It’s not okay, how is this okay?’’

‘’I… We’ll make it work, I promise you we’ll mak-‘’

‘’Stop trying to fix everything! Some things just can’t get fixed, okay?!’’

Lando and you were like two puzzle pieces that fit, perfectly fine. But what happens when one day, the piece that made those two pieces of the puzzle once a whole, disappeared. Broke off. Got thrown away which made it almost impossible for those two pieces to ever become whole again.

You loved him, more than anything in this whole entire world. You were determined to give up everything you ever had to be with him, to support him through thick and thin and you would never. Ever. Give up on each other...

‘’It’s been 4 months, give him some time.’’ Pietra’s reassuring hand made its way to Max’ shoulder.

It’d been 4 months since you and Lando broke up. You’d said your goodbyes at the airport after the two of you decided it was best to part ways. Lando tried almost everything to keep you at his side, but he knew that loving also meant letting go. That was the hardest part of a breakup, though, but he’d manage. Or so he thought.

You were lying when you said the breakup hadn’t torn your heart apart. It felt like it went through a shredder and every time you’d tried to pick up a piece and place it back, it didn’t fit. There were pieces missing, some things were upside down, backwards, or not even in the right place. It was heart-breaking.

Your breakup was something that nobody had seen coming, the fans, your friends, heck, not even the two of you saw it coming. You had always been different, but that didn’t stop you. Where you loved to stay at home and read a book, Lando loved to go out with his friends, plan his schedule full of events and parties. You’d join him, every now and then, but you preferred staying home.

Until you didn’t. But then it was too late.

‘’My parent’s need me back home.’’ You explained, the warm cup of tea in your hand preventing you from shivering. You and Lando were outside, watching the snow fall down the sky and onto the grass of his back yard in London.

‘’Alright, I can come if you want me to, I’m free till-..’’

‘’No, Lando, they need me back home, permanently.’’ You let out a shaky sigh, tears prickling behind your eyeballs as you kept your gaze focussed on your tea.

You had lived with Lando for almost 3 years now, the two of you dating for more than 5 years by the time you moved in together. Your parents knew his parents, and so the ball went rolling till it came to a stop in front of the two of you.

‘’What? But…’’

‘’I know.’’ Your voice was barely a whisper, the tears that you were desperately trying to hold back now made its appearance. Your parents were sick, both of them. You loved them more than anything, so leaving them and going to London, then to Monaco with the love of your life made you both happy and sad.

‘’No, Y/N, baby listen please, we can make it work. Okay? I’ll come over every month, we’ll do it together, I can…’’ But he knew everything he was saying was a lost cause. Your parents needed you, and as much as he wanted you to be with him, he knew you loved your parents. He’d never forgive himself if you staying with him meant you’d barely see your parents again.

‘’You know we can’t. We’ve been over this before.’’ Your voice was breaking more and more every word. ‘’It’s okay.’’ You whispered, the tea in your hands not being enough to keep you warm anymore. ‘’It’ll be okay…’’

‘’… on your win. And let’s make this party one to remember!’’ Cheers were hearable in the entire club, Lando being one of them. He laughed, partied, and celebrated. He won, he couldn’t ignore that, but that didn’t mean he didn’t think of how it could have been.

His job was hectic, of course. Being a Formula One driver – a race winning Formula One driver – meant events, races, meetings, and mostly, fame. You knew that if Lando would have stayed with you, if you would have done what he wanted – which was coming over once every month, it would bring attention to you and indirectly, to your parents, who could not use the attention at all.

After you and your parents got in a horrific car accident a few years after you and Lando started dating, the media was all over it. You barely had a chance to recover before the media would send you emails; press would be in front of your house and Lando’s interviews were all about how you and your parents were doing. It wasn’t healthy, at all. The press that did those things soon got boycotted by his fans, but that wasn’t the point here. They were there, they took away that bit of privacy you’d loved and cherished even more when Lando got more well known in the racing industry. When he joined Formula One.

You recovered completely – thankfully – but your parents, that was a whole other story. Both in a coma, one worse than the other, and the survival chances were low. Miraculously though, they woke up. The first 6 months, they had to stay at the hospital. Their wishes were to go home, so after 6 months, the hospital arranged things here and there so they could recover at home.

However, 2 years after the accident, you got the worst news possible. The car accident you and your parents were in caused your parents to both have brain damage, severely. They would need 24/7 care, and they would not get better. It was the worst possible scenario, but Lando was always there for you.

You just couldn’t do it, not with his fame, his busy schedule, your work. You worked from home, something you rearranged the moment you recovered from the car accident. It was the best option; you’d be able to work whenever you wanted, you could join Lando for his races. You could work from Monaco, England, it didn’t matter. You could work at home whenever Lando had a triple header, so you could take care of your parents whilst working from your laptop.

‘’You know they need me, and I love you so much, I…’’ The tears were streaming down your face after you had finished packing everything from Lando’s apartment – you were leaving.

‘’Shh..’’ Lando’s tears had dried on his cheeks, the sight of seeing you pack all your clothes in suitcases was the worst thing he’d ever seen. ‘’I know, sunshine, I know, but it’s okay. We’ll be okay.’’ He mumbled with the sorest throat from crying. He knew there was no more ‘we’ after you stepped out of that door. It was a commitment you made to each other.

‘If I need to go back and take care of them, move on. I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life waiting for me because I don’t know how long that’s going to take. I can’t expect you to put a hold on your life and come with me. You have a career, and I need you to put that on number one, be selfish, please.’

He always responded with the same thing. ‘’It doesn’t matter, you are my number one, you always will be.’’

‘’Lando Norris, your number one!’’ The music was pounding in his ears, the smile he had put on for this evening was fading slightly. When there was no camera around him, he’d let it drop, what was there to smile about?

Three months later

Moving on from a breakup was one thing, moving on from a breakup in which both individuals still loved each other but had to let go was another. Moving on from a breakup after finding out your parents had 2 more months to live, was impossible.

Your parents passed away 4 months ago, 3 months after you and Lando broke up. It was the hardest period of your life, and at some point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to live the life you’d known for so long.

You’ve thought to yourself multiple times, why not go back to Lando? Tell him your parents passed away and everything would be okay. But that’s not the first thing that crosses your mind after your parents pass away. Especially not within the first four months of them being gone.

The number of times you’ve gotten close to pressing call on your ex-boyfriend’s number had been too many to count, but you couldn’t get yourself to do it. What were you going to say?

‘Hey Lando, yeah, my parents passed away, so I don’t have another thing to do, let’s get back together?’

Yeah, no. Not a chance.

You’ve watched his race win so many times it almost felt like you were there. You could imagine what it would have been like to be there, knowing the crew and drivers.

Why hadn’t you called him yet? Or why hadn’t you tried to congratulate him, reach out to his friends? No idea, you were still in that grieving state and you weren’t sure if you were going to break out of it.

That was until, one day, you saw this quote. It’s stupid to think one quote can change one’s perspective on things, but this one did.

‘If you don’t do it now, don’t regret it later.’

It was hard, doing the things you did, but not impossible. Impossible was getting over the death of your parents AND not having the one person you’ve loved more than anything not be there to help you through it.

So, you did it. You got in that car, which was something you’ve been avoiding after the accident, till Lando helped you get back into it. Your fingers dug into the leather of your father’s car, the one they left to you. Just like they left everything to you, the house, the money, the company.

A weak smile appeared on your face, so many memories in just one movement, one moment. The road was long, far, you had to stop at a hotel for a night of sleep before continuing your lonely road trip to London. Back to him. Because if you didn’t do it now, you would regret it later, and that’s something you couldn’t live with.

Another long day at the factory, more meetings, more shaking hands, interviews, you name it. His feet dragged him through the entire factory, not once, but three times already – and it was just lunch time. Things were better, he still missed you, but he was starting to accept it, just that, though, because moving on was impossible for him.

It wasn’t when one of the mechanics he always had lunch with called your name, that he turned his head so fast it would have almost gotten him a whiplash from the force and the speed. Your name, you were there, here.

A weak smile appeared on your lips. It wasn’t an easy choice, contacting Max, ignoring all his questions because you needed to see where he was, where the man you loved – and never stopped loving – was. It was bold, he might have moved on, gotten a new girlfriend, but you dug around the internet and didn’t see any signs of that being the case.

‘’Hey..’’

He was a race car driver, so he was fast, – very – fast. But the speed of which he got up and ran to you was another level. Your arms didn’t hesitate once. They found their way back around his neck, his positioned at your waist as always, and he looked into your eyes for a brief second, just to check, just to make sure that what he was about to do was okay. It was more than okay.

Your lips melted together instantly, his soft, warm lips immediately welcomed your slightly colder – due to the air-conditioning in the car – and even softer ones in a heartbeat. It felt good, it felt so good, you lost track of time, place and it was just the two of you in this moment. You did not regret it.

‘’Congratulations on your win, champ.’’ Your breath was a bit more rapid, your voice a lot hoarser than you would have liked it to be, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you had found your way back to him, like you always would have.

4 years later

It was no longer impossible. It was hard, for sure, but the moment you stood in front of their gravestones, your hand intertwined with his and a weak smile on your lips, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

‘’Mom, dad..’’ You whispered, head resting against Lando’s chest as he pressed a delicate kiss to your temple. Your hand rested on top of Lando’s, who had a protected arm around you, his hand rubbing small circles on your stomach. You played with his ring for a few seconds before you swallowed the lump in your throat. You looked up at your husband, who gave you a reassuring smile as you placed the tiny shoes on top of their gravestones.

‘’You’re gonna be grandparents…’’

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saetoru · 1 year ago

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this blog is now archived !! find my MASTERLIST here !!

hi guys, and here’s a long overdue post that i wanted to take the time to make after collecting as many screenshots as i can for a lot of rumors that i think need to be addressed. before i do that, i wanted to apologize to all of my mutuals who ended up wrongfully harassed in their inboxes for simply knowing me—the irony of this issue being about bullying all the while people on this app have been simultaneously being genuinely awful to other writers who have zero involvement has been ridiculous.

i would’ve made this post sooner, but december was very busy—as you all know, i’ve been working with two separate companies for my capstone projects, and i had final presentations with boards to worry about. and then a cruise which was fun, but i was offline. now that i’ve finally had time to enjoy my break and collect my thoughts, i’d like to voice my own side to the discourse i’m sure you’ve all seen posted by @/garoujo, who is now @/gojoath.

first and foremost, i’ve been on tumblr for almost 4 years now, and while i may not have the brightest moments on here (no one will be spot-free in that amount of time), i’d like to think that if i actually went out of my way to vicious or bully people, this would’ve come to people’s attention a lot sooner. i’ve had a relatively large following across all 6 of my blogs in my time here, and while i don’t like to get into the metrics of my blogs, the reason i point this out is because i have willingly started my blog over 6 times. 3 of these were sfw blogs under my nickname tee, another 2 of which were my previous nsfw blogs under a different alias, and saetoru which is the current one, where i finally decided to combine my sfw and nsfw writing into one space. i just wanted to bring that up because i had quite a habit of leaving and restarting blogs before this one, and had i been obsessed with outperforming other writers in terms of follower counts, i would not have left the previous ones as often as i did.

that being said, i’ll also go through a timeline of events and how they’ve snowballed into an issue that is not as one-sided as most of you might think. i’ve been mutuals with emmie since my first blog, and i’d been mutuals with her through most of her blogs as well. we’ve never really had issues until her last blog @/garoujo, which she’d started after deactivating @/atsymu due to discourse regarding racism accusations. the reason why we had a falling out was because i felt that there were a series of odd coincidences that felt slightly purposeful, but i was still questioning whether or not i was looking too deeply into it to actually point any of it out.

admittedly, when i saw her first set of banners, i felt our layouts were a slight bit similar, but i really didn’t mind too much because i had been planning to change my banners anyway because i was bored of them. so i took that as an opportunity to do so. it just so happened that within a day or two of every time i changed my banners, hers would be changed too—i never said i owned the color gray, and i even fully acknowledge that the last two sets of banners, at first glance, wouldn’t be a red flag. because, like i said, i was more uncomfortable with the pattern of coincidences than the actual layouts. then i switched to my instagram theme, and not long after, i noticed her add instagram story visuals to her navi. again, no one ever said instagram was my original idea, and that no one else could use it, but it was an unsettling feeling having the same moot continuously make changes around the same time as you, and changes that are different enough that you can’t exactly point out an issue, but slightly similar enough that you can’t exactly ignore the slight oddness.

coincidentally, the same day, another blog (who i will not name bc they’re not very active anymore and are also not very relevant to this story) made the same theme as me and i was a bit peeved because this same blog is someone who has copied a few other things from me and a handful of other moots, so i made a subpost on my moots-only personal blog at the time. keep in mind, i made this post fully aware that emmie was on this blog because i didn’t intend for that post to seem like it was about her. but she reached out to me, and i explained to her the situation, and i even provided the relevant screenshots to show my points. i still considered her a decently good friend at the time, and even with the slightly off feelings, i was still adamant about brushing them off and considering them coincidences that perhaps i was being a bit too critical of.

it wasn’t until i woke up a few hours later after changing my theme and going to bed that i noticed she’d then fully switched to the insta theme. again, instagram is an app used by millions and, at one point, was a very popular theme used amongst most people on this app. i’m not entitled enough to believe i was the first person to do it, but like i said. there are just off vibes most of us will not help but feel when a series of coincidences continue to happen back to back to back by the same person.

there were, amongst these things, a number of other small touches that made me feel off. most of them i don’t remember by now or have screenshots of, so i won’t bother to go into all of them, but for reference, one example i’d also like to point out that i’d had the phrase “you’ve reached the hanmas” in my inbox when she was still on @/atsymu, and sometime after, her sfw blog @/loveatsu had the phrase “you’ve reached the miyas.” small things like this are not things i make an issue over and am more than capable of brushing aside, but like i have said and will continue to push firmly is that i felt there were multiple instances of emmie, in particular, making small tweaks to her blog shortly after me that made me feel were not all coincidentally similar. the issue was never themes or thinking i am the first or only person to do something a certain way, the issue has always been me countless times feeling that one particular individual is exhibiting a behavior that is persistent and uncomfortable no matter how minuscule the instances may be. maybe they were really just unfortunate coincidences that happened with poor timing, or maybe they weren’t. but i stand by the fact that anyone in my shoes would be valid to question the timing of each of these events over and over again.

i would also like to bring up kinktober (though this happened a while after the rest of what i will get into) because this was the first public discourse that emmie and i got into due to an anon’s claims of similarities between our posts. i had received an anon who told me “i think someone copied your kinktober masterlist” which i answered to ask if they could let me know who. they had come back to say it was garoujo, and i did not reply to the ask, instead, i made a post to vaguely tell the anon that i appreciate them letting me know, but i will just leave it be and continue on with my kinktober regardless of emmie’s mlist. i do think there were some vague similarities, but honestly not enough to really question it, so i figured a confrontation or issue was not necessary. a while later, several moots had messaged me to let me know they had received anonymous asks saying to “block @/garoujo she copied @/sakusins and she’ll copy you too” (or something along those lines, i don’t remember exactly.) i myself was very confused (and upset) by the situation because i did not, and still would not, want to be publicly name-dropped in other people’s inboxes over issues that do not involve them. unfortunately, it led to some not-very-kind asks to both of us, and while i am sorry she had to deal with that, it is not an apology from a sense of culpability. that situation was, and still is, entirely out of my control. i would not have seen the masterlist unless the anon had mentioned it, and i did not take part in having people send asks about her to other writers. especially not in a manner that was pretty much social suicide for me as well.

(this is a poorly made collage i know lol but i hit the picture limit bear with me here.)

i would also like to point out that i am not the only individual who has had issues with emmie and feels she had copied them. although i cannot disclose urls (they have been blocked out for privacy reasons) here are a few conversations i have had with my own mutuals, and i would wager there are more people whom i haven’t talked to who also feel this way. they might be small enough instances that sparking issues over them was not worth it to all of these people, therefore she has never heard from people herself about this issue, but the point does still stand that this claim about emmie is not one i alone make, and is one that i have heard countless times before. her never being approached by these individuals for the sake of peace doesn’t erase that they have been, and are, upset by these events, and it’s a habit that she seems to continually partake in. i would also like to link this post where she has been called out by another writer while she was still atsymu, which was posted while we were still friends. i’ve actually had a discussion with emmie about that post, and at the time, i had quickly skimmed the post and felt it was perhaps a reach, but after my own experiences, i went back to reread the post and considered perhaps there was validity to it, and that this might not be a one time occurrence. plagiarism in manners such as this will always have conflicting opinions, and it is hard to sometimes tell if something is a coincidence, a popular and overused idea, or something that has actually been copied. my point is that a number of people have all felt that perhaps there is a good chance this was not an accident, and please consider that so many instances of people feeling this way might suggest that there is a certain degree of validity to the claim.

at the beginning of all of this, when the masterlist banners had first started bothering me, i was upset, and i chose to vent to an ex-moot of mine who most of you would recognize as munsonsins. abby has deactivated a long while ago, but she’s relevant to this because i had chosen to vent to her at the time, and this is more or less what later caused this situation to escalate. at the time of venting to her, i knew she wasn’t mutuals with emmie because, as you can see, she’d told me as such.

one thing i would like to point out is that there were a handful of people i had vented to about my frustrations with emmie, but one thing i had always been mindful of was ensuring these were a) individuals who i considered close friends and not just random individuals, and b) were not friends or moots with emmie in the event that i accidentally made people who she cared about think lesser of her. had abby been mutuals with emmie, i would not have shared my feelings, and once again, i was not loose-lipped enough to just tell anyone because they’d listen. i told abby in particular because i had felt we were sufficiently close individuals who talked one-on-one and were able to vent to each other. a bit after i vented to her, though, she befriended emmie, which i had no such issues with because abby was/is her own person and is an adult who can interact freely and befriend whoever she wanted/wants to.

not long after that, on the night before eid (this detail is relevant in the future) an ex moot of mine @/kazuwhora reached out to me. if you guys remember, there was a discourse last year that was all over dash about how writers on this app should be open to criticism. a lot of people (including me and kc) were upset by that sentiment—which is still valid. please don’t give constructive criticism to writers without their explicit permission !! but regardless, kc sent me a screenshot of a mutual of mine who had posted their opinion on this discourse, and their point was clearly that while constructive criticism is important in some aspects, writers do not have to be subject to receiving it should they not want to. unfortunately, i felt as if kc misunderstood what this individual was trying to say, and i was trying to explain it to her, but we got into a small argument over how we interpreted the post. i felt some of the things she was saying about this individual were inappropriate, and i had made it clear that i was very fond of this person, and it made me uncomfortable to be having this discussion. regardless of whether she saw my interpretation of the post or not, i wanted to drop the discussion, especially because it was the night before eid. eid is the one holiday i celebrate, and there are traditions i quite enjoy the night before, and i didn’t want them to be spoiled with a poor mood over a silly argument. unfortunately, she wasn’t very willing to drop the topic, and it ended up making me upset. so i posted this screenshot to my moots only personal from the conversation that consisted of my messages only and said, “tonight i had to explain what a debate is.” it was petty, perhaps, but very harmless, seeing as there was no context given and no names/pfps to indicate who the person was.

truthfully, i had vented separately to cat, eris, and abby about this argument because i was friends with the three of them at the time, but needless to say, venting to your friends about arguments is a universal action, and i believe it is something all of us have partaken in.

eventually, i decided to softblock emmie because i felt it would be more comfortable for me on my blog to do so. after a bit, i was informed of a subpost that seemed like it couldn’t be about anyone other than me—to make things clear, emmie subposting me was not my concern. i did not hold it against her because she is more than entitled to have her own feelings and vents on her own blog, but the thing that did concern me was that it seemed slightly evident that she was aware of my feelings when i had never explicitly had a conversation with her. it made me question who would tell her, and as you may have guessed, the only person with whom i had shared my concerns who could also be in contact with emmie was abby.

at the time, eris had also voiced concerns that they had trusted abby with the ending of the plot for the diluc series they were planning, and coincidentally, one of abby’s friends had posted a fic idea eerily similar to their concept, to which abby had been commenting and reblogging more brainstormed ideas under. all of these ideas were very close to the plans eris had for their series plot, and understandably, they felt that it was not a mere coincidence that their entire plot was being brainstormed on dash by a person who was fully aware of their outline. i’d voiced my concerns with believing that abby may have also been sharing things i trusted her with, and as a result we both had made a few vague subposts that we liked from each other—a petty behavior, i will admit, but not something that i think is very out of the norm for a lot of people on this app. sometimes, we all just want to vent out our frustrations, and because we all more or less use tumblr as an outlet, these can sometimes be vaguely taken to dash. it’s not something that is ideally recommended (i’ve learned the hard way) but it’s also ?? not exactly something that only i’m guilty of, or is even a rare behavior. i think to shoot down one person for this behavior is quite frankly hypocritical. again, subposting isn’t a habit i would like to push as mature but it’s something i’d like to point out is very normal in this community, and is not something only i take part in. beyond that, i take to ensuring that whenever i do, i’m not explicitly exposing who i’m talking about in order to keep them out of unnecessary issues.

after this conversation with eris, it kind of solidified in my mind that i did not want to trust abby with any more personal vents, or information, and i had ultimately decided to soft block her too. i had also decided to take the opportunity to softblock kc as well because i figured i might as well just remove individuals who i felt made me uncomfortable. this is, again, my right to do so to curate my own space. not long after, cat, eris, and i had been softblocked/hardblocked by a number of moots, and we were a bit confused, until cat ended up having a conversation with kc. many accusations were made about all three of us, more specifically, about me to kc by abby because the two of them had been discussing that they’d both been softblocked by me recently.

the list of accusations we were told of is as follows:

me, cat, and eris have a “burn book” where we “blacklist people.” it’s important to note that every time this discourse resurfaces (this is now the fourth time), the “burn book” has fundamentally changed in its composition—it has changed from a discord server “burn book”, to a google doc “burn book”, to the current rumor that it was an entire blog that was used as a “burn book.” it is consistently changed to fit whatever narrative is trying to be pushed, and regardless, the rumor itself is entirely untrue and has been addressed multiple times. cat has had a tumblr theme, a collab theme, and a server theme all dedicated to the film mean girls. she simply had a channel that was to share the urls of minors to block for interacting with nsfw works, or people who were anti-dark content—this is something that i have seen in all servers i’ve been in during my time on tumblr, and is not a new concept for many of you either. it’s simply a precaution a lot of servers take to warn writers about potential minors to block, and potential anti-dark content harassers. the name of this channel happened to be “the burn book” because it was a mean girls themed server, so the name just fit. nowhere in this channel were other writers in the community “blacklisted” or spoken negatively of, and here are the screenshots of the channel. this was simply something abby had twisted in order to paint us negatively. here is the link to cat’s post addressing it for proof and explanation (i run out of pictures or i would include them myself.)

abby also claimed that i was using this channel to talk poorly about kc and a handful of other moots. this is also false bc this server had several strangers (as it was cat’s server and i didn’t know all her moots), but it also had several of kc’s mutuals/friends in this server as well. i’m not so dense as to talk poorly about other writers publicly in a server, let alone a server i know has people who are friends with kc

now, this next part, emmie has conveniently painted out to be about me, as i apparently harassed and blacklisted people for liking itto from genshin impact, but i have been playing genshin for over a year on this app, and quite a large number of you are my own followers who see my rambles and my writing and i don’t have to explain that i have never written for itto, nor explicitly expressed an interest in him apart from perhaps one or two posts from back when i did his story quest. i never had, and still to this day, have no interest in the character itto. i’ve skipped his banner, i plan to skip his upcoming banners should they come, and i have never written for him, nor do i plan to write for him. this issue with itto is between eris and another individual, and i do not have the details to this, as i was new friends with eris at the time, and i’m no longer friends with eris as of current time. quite frankly, even if i knew the details, i wouldn’t go out of my way to share them because it has nothing to do with me. plain and simple.

as you can see, there were a number of rumors spread here to kc by abby, and as you can see, all of which led me to seem quite vicious in character. i’ve provided, to the best of my ability, screenshots and receipts of why each of these is quite drastically out of context and far from true to what abby has claimed.

i did in fact, after these events confront abby because i was genuinely appalled by the way she knowingly and purposely twisted things conveniently to villainize me. she expressed that she was upset and paranoid by the subposts that she figured were about her once i’d soft blocked her, so i apologized for the posts. she had conversations with both me and cat about the rumors she’d started, and she also apologized for them to both me and cat.

the rumors that emmie has claimed about me in her post, which she conveniently provided no evidence of, are all rumors that are more or less a result of my differences with abby and kc. unfortunately, despite cat trying her best to explain to kc the falseness of most of these rumors, she didn’t really believe them—which is her business. to each their own. i’m sure if i had been in kc’s shoes and in one night, someone i had considered a friend had been painted to do a series of nasty things behind my back, i also would not know what’s true and untrue, and she is entitled to piecing together what she believes is her truth. what’s not fair, however, is for emmie to have no involvement/understanding of these events apart from a twisted narrative she heard from one person and dog pile them into her claims of my behavior to further paint me as a villain. emmie is more than entitled to have her beliefs on my character based on her own experiences, which she has provided her own evidence of, but simply slapping an “and i heard she also….” does not necessarily make claims true, and is very manipulatively thrown into the post to add a list of things that make my character questionable to further validate her point.

not only this, but she has made a point to openly admit that she and her friends have collectively mocked me for my relationship with my ex-boyfriend, who they have apparently labeled as my “fake” boyfriend that i used to get attention on this app. quite plainly, i get enough attention on my blog that i don’t need a fake boyfriend to amp that up. but furthermore, i am a south asian, muslim individual. my parents are immigrants with very strict religious and cultural beliefs that i feel are very restricting at times, and though i love my family, i struggle with my identity quite a bit as i live in a very western culture that clashes quite a bit with my cultural norms. i do not get to freely explore my sexuality or even romantic life in general, unlike some of you. my parents have been kept in the dark about my relationship because them knowing about it is something that could quite literally create a rift between us, and i find it very insulting and almost suspicious that a white girl is making a mockery of my cultural struggles and my personal life. many of you are either desi or muslim or simply children of strict immigrant parents with quite stubborn traditional views. i’m sure plenty of you understand where i’m coming from when i say that i have to keep my relationship hidden from the majority of the people around me. tumblr is the one place i can anonymously share bits and pieces of my life without worrying about if it will literally cost me my relationship with my parents, so sometimes i may have overshared silly or pointless things, but that is because it’s my own way of being able to express myself and my relationship the way i have always wanted to. apart from that, dragging and making a joke out of someone’s personal life is quite unnecessary in this case. the issue is about tumblr discourse, and i find it very hypocritical that i am being labeled a bully when people, more specifically a white and privileged individual, is plain and simple mocking and poking fun at my personal life and situation that i have no control of. that is my piece on that. whether some of you believe i had a partner or not is not my business, nor do i have to go out of my way to show you evidence of my personal life. what i will say, however, is that there are a handful of close friends i have on this app who are involved in my personal life and have seen evidence of my love life through pictures and private stories on social media. quite frankly, these are the only individuals who i have to justify the validity of my personal life to, and it’s honestly quite violating for someone to stoop to dragging someone’s outside life into issues about tumblr. i extend a very genuine fuck you to every single one of you that have ridiculed my personal relationship and just know that you are extremely bold to consider yourselves above bullying when this is the type of behavior you admit to engaging in. individuals with complex familial relationships, and identity struggles between cultural norms, their ethnicities, and the western world are not your playground to make a joke out of. some of us have very real struggles, such as not being able to pursue careers in favor of arranged marriages, not being able to pursue actual relationships that mean something to us due to a lack of familial approval, being forced to bear children at young ages due to familial pressure, and so on. they are not laughing matters, and are a part of my reality. and before some of you get started—yes, it really is that serious. i have struggled my entire life with having white girls poke fun and tease at my cultural norms, and i refuse to allow another white and privileged individual who already has a record of racially related discourse walk away with once more poking fun at my personal struggles and not be called out for it. i hope you had a good, long, satisfying laugh emmie.

onto my next points based on claims @/anantaru has made about me. the main thing i’d like to really point out here is that anantaru and i have never, not even once, interacted to the extent of my knowledge. they claim that cat and i cannot stand it when people cross us in numbers and that we go through people’s likes in order to find minors and blank blogs to explain all the notes. a) i am very bad at checking for minors and blanks in my own notes, so this is not even a logical approach on my end, but b) this claim is made because cat made this post under the tags of a post going around last year that asked to hear unpopular ficblr opinions.

what cat means to articulate here is that sometimes, when she is scrolling on dash and interacting with moots and their shit/talk-posts, she peeks at profiles she sees in the notes and has happened to catch minors lurking. cat, firstly, has never followed anantaru, so they are not a “victim” to cat glancing at their likes, but secondly, this is not nearly as psychotic as it’s painted out to be. cat is not, and was not, jealous of other blog's notes. quite plainly, she’s not exactly a tiny blog either, and she’s only stumbled upon minors in the talks-posts of moots, including me. shit-posts/talks-posts are easy to notice minors lurking on, and while most people recognize that it’s quite impossible to catch every minor and ageless blog in writing posts with numerous notes, a simple shit-post on dash is more simple, and her unpopular opinion was simply that blogs that grow rapidly need to be better about catching those minors because they are susceptible to having more of them lurking. it’s a really harmless sentiment, and she’s gently reminded me as well on more than one occasion to be more responsible about my habit of being lazy when scouting for minors in my interactions.

this is not out of jealousy, nor is it some sick and twisted habit she has to “explain” why people get more notes than she might get. it’s also out of a place of concern for her own content ?? i myself and plenty of other large blogs reblog from mutuals, and they are well within their right to be concerned that perhaps minors are lurking on our pages and interacting with works we reblog from our mutuals. cat has voiced this concern to me before, also out of goodwill and simple concern for my content, her content, and minors in general. there is simply no need to twist it into her viciously looking down upon large blogs and their notes counts and claiming they’re “only because they don’t block minors.” admittedly, though, i do need to be better about catching minors, and i have always appreciated her trying to keep me in the habit of being responsible about it. more importantly, it was a small passing comment under a post of unpopular opinions, a lot of them were hot takes, and this is hardly a serious one to get so heated over.

i’d also like to point out that anantaru has claimed we blocked them for being a gatekeeper and because we’re jealous of their notes. 💀. a) i am very grateful and very happy with the level of interaction i get on my writing, as more people than i imagine leave me countless comments and reblogs. i have never had an issue with comparing my interaction with that of other writers because i have always been abundantly content with the interaction i get. i have no other comment on this other than cat and i blocked anantaru at the same time because we happened to see a post of theirs reblogged onto our dash that made a joke that we felt was a bit insensitive to/alluded to SA—i’m sure it wasn’t meant to be taken that way, but it made us uncomfortable regardless. while we are both dark content supporters, and i myself have read more than one fic that includes noncon in particular, it doesn’t mean we have to like/enjoy everything related to it and we simply decided to block them. i’m not going to bring this post up bc it’s simply not important. they are an adult who is more than entitled to make jokes on their blog and cat and i do not have to like them !! we simply did what we were well within our rights to do, and that’s blocking them.

there’s more they go on to say about receiving hate asks and that apparently it’s because of our “group of friends.” cat and i don’t have a group of friends. i don’t have any group chats with her besides the one with her boyfriend because i get along with him sometimes as well, and we used to play genshin together a lot when i was in low ar. not that i have to explain my friendships here, but i quite literally do not have a group of people to “send after” anantaru because people are well aware of my close friends, who i text with my personal phone number. i’ve posted silly screenshots of convos on my blog multiple times, and none of these friends overlap because i do not have a “group” of friends, just individual friends who i talk to one on one. cat is not friends with my other friends, and my other friends are not friends with her. there are no inner circles that conspire together to send anyone hate because i “tell them to.” and if there are screenshots of me explicitly encouraging someone to send hate on anon, i would love to see it. if i had sent my anons after anantaru, it would have to be a public post, and i’m sure if there were a post of such nature, it would have been brought to light by now. they have also claimed they were given multiple urls of mine to block. i only have ONE writing blog, @/saetoru, and the only other two that are still up are archived blogs @/hanmine and @/katsuphilia, which are side blogs attached to saetoru and have been inactive for several months. there are however, multiple individuals on this app who also go by the name “tee,” and perhaps we have unfortunately been mixed up as the same person, but the only blog i have is saetoru, so there is no other active blog they have blocked me from that belonged to me and was able to harass them.

not only that, but anantaru has claimed that one person off anon sent them hate with a kaeya url which they insinuate to be me. once again, you are all more than aware of my history of urls, and many of you have all been here to see them. i’ve never once had a kaeya url, nor have i ever been particularly interested in kaeya outside of a small number of posts on a rare occasion. my genshin favorites have always been characters from sumeru and, at one point diluc, and once again i don’t have to ?? explain my selfships to you all ?? but literally, i have nothing to do with a kaeya blog or kaeya account, and im unsure why it’s being thrown into my name. quite frankly, i’m not sure what their moot has told them we have said about them, but the only conversations cat and i have ever had about anantaru was that one about the noncon joke, and that’s it. outside of that, there is literally no evidence of us speaking about this person because it simply doesn’t exist.

i implore you all to, instead of starting public discourse over things you hear, confirm them first. had anantaru reached out to me or cat and expressed that they are upset that we are supposedly spreading false rumors about them gatekeeping, then whatever misunderstanding it might have been could have been cleared. i would like to also point out that it is not above bullying when you simply dump numerous accusations that you have heard through half whispers from moots and provide 0 evidence for them. i am perfectly aware of why emmie may consider herself to have issues with me, but i have never had an encounter with anantaru, and truthfully, i’ve never actually even read their writing before. my main (and pretty much only) experience with them is seeing the joke i saw reblogged onto my dash, and as i stated earlier, the only thing i did for that was block and move one.

and lastly, the other point i’d like to make is that numerous blogs who i have been objectively very kind to have come out to take the opportunity to stomp on my character and reputation. for example, tumblr user @/osaemu, who used to follow me and interact with me quite often. i have always been excited to interact with her because she was really supportive of my gojo writing, and at one point, i had a small area of concern with her using the same exact title as me for a gojo fic. below are screenshots of our conversation regarding the titles.

i am quite confident that this is a very polite interaction, and i was very clear that i didn’t think that her writing elements, including gojo’s parent dynamics and his dynamics with the reader, were copied or even something that i felt she needed to change. i pointed them out as a way of indicating that between these parallels and between the fact that i know she reads my rb! gojo series, i find it difficult to believe that our fic titles being exactly the same is a coincidence, and it made me uncomfortable—my concern was not how she wrote gojo’s parents or his dynamic with reader. i never accused her of stealing ideas that were mine alone to use, all i simply wanted to do was shed light on the fact that based on these parallels, i figured the names being the same was a touch difficult for me to brush aside as a chance similarity. i was very clear to outline that i know these dynamics and themes in writing are generic, and that people can pull inspo from them because i have done the same thing. my only concern was the title, which i politely asked her to change, and she agreed. case closed. i have been, again objectively, quite kind to osaemu, and i had no intentions of blocking her like a moot had suggested because i felt it was a very silly issue to block over since she was very lovely to me.

i did, however, block her because she posted one-paragraph posts with multiple characters tagged. that’s not a crime on her end, and i’m certainly not here to police her posts in the tags, but as me and plenty of other people on this app have voiced multiple times, it is a bit irritating and feels like spam to see posts of these kinds in the tags so i blocked her. this is a very popular opinion and i refuse to be considered problematic for it. i am not here to police what constitutes an appropriate post to tag x reader tags on, and while i have made posts simply sharing my opinion on what i feel should and should not be tagged, osaemu is more than welcome to post whatever she feels she would like to into the tags. i do, however, block anyone who i come across who makes those kinds of posts because i simply don’t like them, and i don’t like seeing them. i don’t owe an explanation for why i block anyone, but seeing as i have been painted as some bitch for doing so, here is my reasoning. quite a lot of people agree on this sentiment, and to each their own, but i don’t enjoy seeing those posts. i did also unblock her at one point, as she mentioned. this is simply because a mutual of mine had voiced that they felt someone had copied the concept of their drabble, and i was helping them word a message to send, so i went back to this exact conversation to look back on what i said because it was a similar situation. as you know, blocking someone hides their dms from your dm list, so i had intended to temporarily unblock her just to see how i worded my message to help formulate a message for a mutual. there were no screenshots sent, i simply wanted to jog my memory of my points, that’s all. i did forget to block her again for a bit but eventually did, and that’s the extent of our interactions. i don’t recall posts telling people that i condone sending anons with death threats like she has claimed, and if she could point out the particular posts i have made where i encourage people to send anon death threats on my behalf, i would be more than happy to clear them up, or address them.

i have admittedly, on a few occasions said in my responses to anon hate itself, the phrase “kys” out of frustration, and there are i’m sure conflicting opinions on that, but i do not regularly use this phrase in my vocabulary. i have been on the receiving end of graphic sexual and violent asks in my inbox regarding me, my teenage sister, and my mother, during my time on here, and sometimes out of frustration i have said less than dignified things, but this is not a constant behavior, and frankly, i think once people make graphic, violent, and inappropriate comments about my 16 year old sister, saying “kys” in response is not the greater of the two evils. it is a tad bit hypocritical to expect benevolence from me to an anonymous hate ask just because there is “another person” at the end of the screen when they have not extended the same sentiment to me.

all of that being said, jumping on the trend to trample on someone while you have the opportunity to because you’re bitter they blocked you is also no better than bullying. apart from blocking osaemu, I have taken careful steps to always be respectful to her due to the very kind comments she’s left on my writing. leaving nice comments on my writing is deeply appreciated and welcome, but that doesn’t mean i have to subject myself to seeing posts i do not want to see on my dash on my phone. i pay for the phone bill, so i will cater my phone to show me what i want to see, and if that includes blocking a few people, i am allowed to do that !! i should not have to apologize for or be crucified for blocking someone and their feelings being hurt over it.

not only this, but several of you have somehow started a rumor that i am 26 or even pushing 30. that’s nowhere close to the truth. i’m 21, soon to be 22, and i have stated multiple times i am an undergraduate college student. of course, there is no timeline to college, and people of all ages complete their undergrad degrees, but i have made it a point to vent about my concerns numerous times that i am very stressed about taking extra classes every semester to compensate for changing my major late because i want to graduate on time. my graduation year is 2024 (as would make sense seeing as i will be 22 years old), and if you don’t believe me, i have celebrated my bday on april 12th of every year this blog has been active. you’re more than welcome to check my archive to see if that’s true, and for further reference, here is a picture i have sent to mods of servers i am in to be accepted. (note that my url used to be hanmas before saetoru.)

although there is no shame in being 26 or pushing 30, the reason why i wanted to address this is that i wanted to point out that yet another rumor has been fiercely pushed on my name and has been believed to be the truth. no one has to walk away from reading this post assuming that i’m a saint and i have never done anything wrong or that i have been faultless in differences i’ve had with other people. but a lot, if not all, of these claims are exaggerated with 0 evidence, and people have just run with claiming them as true. i physically cannot deny a large majority of these rumors with evidence or screenshots because half of them are made by people i have never interacted with or talked to, and i cannot produce evidence for interactions that never happened. i have seen blank, burner blogs post stories of their experiences with me, one in particular that claims i dm’d them to tell them their hanma fic was breathtaking before i harassed them about their theme, boyfriend, and parents. a) i do not dm anyone to compliment their fics because i am simply too shy to do that. i would have only reblogged the fic with comments if i enjoyed it. b) again, there is no evidence on their part, and i cannot dispel this story with evidence of my own because evidence of conversations that never took place does not exist. and c) i would like to think i do not come across as dense enough to attack someone in their dm’s viciously about their boyfriend and parents openly with my account, where they could easily spread the proof around if it had actually happened. i am not responsible for people’s internet literacy, and if people believe every story that is shared with not even a small piece of proof that it took place, i cannot do anything besides simply urge you all to formulate your opinions based on what you see, not based on what you hear.

i would also like to end things off with an apology to all of you—mainly because there was no reason for so many of you to be dragged into something that did not involve you and also because there are very disturbing and important issues going on right now in real-time in the world that are affecting a lot of people. i never want to be involved in something that takes attention off of important discussions such as genocide, and while many of you like to claim i am deflecting, i think it is quite telling that some people have posted nothing about something this important but have made multiple posts regarding discourse. i did not feel it was appropriate at that time to focus on discourse, and i still do not think so, but i wanted to leave off with my own statement.

i would also like to apologize if i have ever come across as unkind during an experience with me; it is never my intention to be that way purposely. i have a habit of being petty sometimes and can be a bit short-tempered, and it’s something i work on. with as large of a following as i have, sometimes it’s better not to say anything at all than say it—however vaguely it might be. i hope some of you who also have larger followings keep that in mind so that you can avoid discourse erupting into something grand scale. please vent to people you trust and be wary of having a habit to subpost. but mainly, please remember that people trusting you with their feelings and troubles is not something you should take pride in spreading. there is nothing to be proud of about sharing people's private socials, urls, and conversations. while i am not always able to keep my temper under wraps, and while i have had my fair share of petty moments, i, to the best of my ability, have always made sure that i don’t come across as intentionally cruel or mean, nor have i purposely broken someone’s trust. sometimes i have retaliated back a bit fiercely, but i stand by the fact that i never purposely chased or drove anyone off, mocked or belittled them, or sent people over to dislike/hate them. i have at times vented to those who i believe are people i can trust, sure—but this is something we as people are all guilty of. there’s no way any of us can hold one person more accountable than others for partaking in closeted conversations that are never meant to get back to people and hurt them.

i genuinely loved, and still love, writing very much, and i have always appreciated every ask, every reblog, and every comment. writing is a hobby i am greatly passionate about, and it’s always a hobby i was very excited to share with people on here because i don’t get to share it with people irl. i don’t willingly tell people irl that i enjoy making elaborate plots about anime characters, and i have always been very excited to share that hobby with you all, whether you are a reader or writer. i’ve read fanfiction for a very long time before i ever decided to try my hand at writing it, and i would never want to knock other people down simply because they “surpassed” me. i enjoy finding writers to read from, especially those who write better than me, because they are where i draw the most inspiration and motivation from. the moots i look up to most are moots who are in my opinion, far stronger writers than me, and moots who i always firmly believe deserve much more reach than i do on their stories because they’re far more fleshed out and in-depth than anything i can produce. and i am proud of them !! and even those of you who feel you are stuck not getting as much reach as you would hope, i am proud also of all of you for picking up a google doc or pen and writing and trying, whether you choose to share it or not. i will always strongly encourage you all to try your hand at writing if you have ever considered it because i have genuinely built such a better sense of self-esteem when being able to incorporate pieces of myself in my stories and express parts of who i am—i think some of you might really enjoy the catharsis that writing brings, and if you ever debate on trying it out, please do !! you might become really passionate about it.

anyway, this post is abysmally long. none of it is to clear my name in hopes that i will be “un-canceled” (LOL) because i have decided saetoru is long overdue to be put to rest. i hope you can all, at the very least, allow other writers some peace and stop harassing them in their inboxes for knowing me (because that is also bullying and very ironic of you), and i hope you all got some sort of understanding of where i am coming from. if you think poorly of me, that’s okay. i have an opinion of myself, and the close people who surround me, that i am confident in, and while i may not have always handled things in the brightest of manners, i am well aware of what my intentions have always been.

i’m deeply grateful to all 41k of you, and thank you for reading my works and allowing me to write for you !! thank you for all the very, very kind asks that i never got a chance to fully answer each one of, and thank you especially for all the supportive comments and love on the writing i’ve posted. they might be silly fics you read once and moved on from, but they’re all pieces of me, my life, and things that are important to me, and as cringe and cheesy as it sounds, it means quite literally everything to me when people read them and take away something from them.

also, as a parting gift, i will be posting the nerd gojo, ex-convict geto, and a marriage rb! gojo fic to my ao3 (also saetoru) for those of you who have been patiently awaiting those wips to enjoy. please (a little more patiently) keep your eyes peeled for those <3 i will no longer be posting or active on saetoru, and in the event that i keep writing, it will be posted on my ao3, so you all will know where to find me !!

so for the last time, i love you my little runts !! wishing you all the best, and goodbye to my lil saetoru bestees.

mwah !!

— tee <3

ps. i also have turned off reblogs for this post and limited replies to people i follow only. a lot of you will jump to say that it’s simply because i am “hiding,” but it is solely because i have said my piece and i intend to move on. thank you and have a lovely day shawtee ✌🏽

#thanks to all my mutuals who have reached out !! i love you all #and i will miss you tons !!

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sachiko6243 · 1 year ago

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Daddy's girl

Summary: Carlisle just taking care of his little girl, while they are chaperoning a school trip

This is part of a story I write on Wattpad, as I am conviced this man needs more attention. Its called "Save Haven - Carlise Cullen". Feel free to hop over, my account name is in my description. 🥰

Word count: 3667

Warnings: period sex, daddy kink (sorry, it got the best of me 😏), praise kink, description of blood, general warning for the vampire daddy himself

Minors DNI! This contains adult content

It had been a draining day. Misses Harrison insisted on going the whole hike she planned out even though it was raining all morning. When we came back, I was drenched to the bones, shaking like a dry leave in the wind. And to all abundance, my period decided to come a few days early. So, I was fighting the whole hike against the cold, while my stomach tried to kill me. Back in the cabin, I let Bella hop into the shower first, because she looked even worse than I did. The Cullens were finished with changing their clothes so fast, I didn’t even realize they left.

When it was my turn, I pealed myself out of the wet clothes, groaning at the pain shooting through me. All I wanted was to crawl in my bed and forget the world even existed. Luckily, Carlisle was able to talk Misses Harrison out of her collective plan for the evening, convincing her smaller house groups could would be easier to be kept entertained during the shitty weather. After a hot shower I changed into fresh clothes, wrapping my up in one of Carlisles sweaters I stole from him for the trip. I looked like I drowned inside his way to big clothes, but right now I only cared about them being exceptionally warm.

Leaving the room, I ran into the Cullen kids and Bella sitting on the sofa. Jasper tensing up as soon as I stepped into the living room. He had been avoiding me like the plague all day, and it wasn’t until now, that it hit me. My period. He could smell my blood. “We all can.” Edward answered. “Good luck with Carlisle though.” He chuckled turning back to play with Bellas hair who was in a deep conversation with Alice. I scrunched my nose at his mysterious words, but shrugged it off, entering Carlisle and my bedroom.

As soon as I entered, I understood, what Edward meant. Carlisle was sitting on his bed and when his eyes landed on mine, he let out a low growl. His nostrils flaring, while his body tensed up. Instinctively, I stepped towards him: “Whats wrong, honey?” But he raised his hand, stopping me from approaching any further: “Don’t come any closer. Your smell… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Is it because I am on my period?” I asked, stepping back towards the door. He groaned at my words, leaning back on the bed. “Yes. I thought I could handle it, but its worse than I’d like to admit.”

“But you are not affected by human blood.” I said, not fully understanding what he meant.

“That’s not entirely true. Other humans blood doesn’t affect me. Yours on the other hand is another story. Like Bella to Edward you are my singer. The one human whos blood is more appealing than normal. And if I wouldn’t be abstinent for such a long time…” He let the end of his sentence hang in the air.

Sucking in a deep breath, I grasped for the door handle: “I will leave you alone then. I don’t want to overwhelm you.” But I wasn’t even able to fully open the door, when he was behind me, shutting the door with such force, I was surprise he didn’t break it. “No!” He growled. “Not when Jasper is around. Not when you smell this good.” His hands were on each side of my head, caging me in between the door and his tall frame. My heart beat so fast in my chest, that my head started to spin. Carlisle dipped down his head, starting to kiss my neck up and down, growling deeply the whole time. Him being this close made me tense up, but he didn’t seem to notice, grabbing me by my waist, pushing me into the corner of the room. I tried to force him back, but he didn’t even react to my hands pushing him away.

“Carlisle stop.” I whispered, my voice shaky and fearful. He didn’t listen, so I tried again: “Carlisle, you scare me.” Those words seemed to snap him out of his frenzy, because as soon as I said it, he jumped back, cowering in the opposite corner of the room. “Aubrey, I am sorry. So sorry. Please forgive me. I couldn’t…” He stopped, looking away from me. My eyes went soft, as soon as I saw how much he struggled with it. “Don’t worry, Carlisle. I trust you.” My words didn’t seem to help him one bit. Raging up he looked at me with angry eyes. “No, Aubrey. I could have easily killed you, or gone against your wishes. You don’t understand. I am a monster!”

“But you didn’t.” I answered calmly. “You stopped when I asked you to. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Everyone makes mistakes…”

“Yeah, but mine get you killed. I should leave.” He got up from his crouched position, but I moved in front of the door, blocking him from leaving. “Get out of the way, Aubrey.” He growled, but I shook my head. “I am not going anywhere. You either tell me how I can help you, or I am not moving.”

Carlisle squinted his eyes. “I could easily move you out of the way.”

“Then do it.” I challenged him, tilting up my chin. “Move me out of the way. Show me what a coldhearted monster you are, that doesn’t care for my feelings.”

He roared in anger and it took everything in me not to run away from him. Because right now he really did look like a vampire. The way his black eyes hungrily scanned me, his whole body shaking in anger and frustration. The way he clenched his jaw to fight for control. But he didn’t touch me, or force me away from the door. One last deep growl later he sank down on his bed, collapsing in himself.

I took that as my cue to sit down next to him, grabbing his hand and leading it to my face. “I love you, Carlisle. Much more than I can tell you. Please tell me, how I can help you.” He took a deep breath, the expression on his face growing softer. “There is not much you can do. I just wasn’t prepared for you to get your period. I expected it when we where back home so you in this small room, smelling so appealing… It just got the best of me.”

“So, you don’t want to kill me anymore?” I joked, tilting my head in his hand. He chuckled, softly caressing my cheek. “Not more than usual.” Suddenly he maneuvered me on the bed, until he was leaning on top of me. “You do however look very cute, wearing my clothes.”

I could feel the tension in the room suddenly shift from strained to sexual.

Carlisle had me now pinned underneath him, planting soft little kisses on my neck and face. “Just cute?” I asked, audibly out of breath by his actions. He hummed into my ear. “Actually no. You look fucking ravishing.” It was a rare occurrence for him to cuss, but whenever he did, he used it in the most sensual way possible. “I wanna fuck you.” His statement caught me off guard, making me stutter in surprise: “I am on my period. And you nearly lost it minutes ago.”

Nestling with my sweatpants and my hoodie, he grinned down at me. “Sex has been proven to help with the cramping and the pain.” I didn’t resist him taking off my clothes, relishing in this intimate and dirty moment he was creating. “So, this is for pure medical reasons?”

“Purely.” He whispered against my ear, causing goosebumps to erupt over my whole body. Before I could even blink, he vanished from the room and was back, before the door fully swung open. A big towel in his hand. Lifting me up with one arm, he planted the towel underneath me, setting me back down again. Then he shuffled down until his head was between my legs.

“What are you doing?” I shrieked away, but he just kept my legs open, a wicked smile starting to spread onto his face. I knew what he was about to do, but I was still caught by surprise, when he tugged on the string of my tampon, effectively pulling it out. Carelessly he wrapped it inside a paper towel, disregarding it on the floor. “Carlisle!” I yelped out, but the rest of my complaint got stuck in my throat, as soon as he dipped his head down. A deep moan rumbling through my body, as soon as he licked one long stripe over my pussy.

My fingers found their way to his hair, pulling on the roots. His deep sensual growl answering my desperate needs. I could feel myself growing wetter instantly. Welcoming his cold fingers into my warmth. His touch was as light as a feather, having me on the edge of madness in seconds. “Carlisle.” I breathed out, unable to focus on anything else than the man between my legs. Pulled into the depths of his black eyes.

He was fingerfucking me slowly to the rhythm his tongue danced on my clit. “Please don’t stop.” I cried out, not caring on who was going to hear me. The smirk that started forming on his face was breathtaking. Full of confidence and arrogance. Something I rarely saw on him. “Never.” Was all he answered, slowly adding another finger. It was ridiculous how fast he was able to find that sweet spot deep inside of me. Fingers feeling so good, I couldn’t stop the moans spilling through the room.

“You taste so good.” He groaned, raising his head to properly look at me. His chin and mouth were covered in a mix of my slick and blood, making me gasp out in embarrassment. He looked so dangerous and appealing at the same time it was impossible for me to stay sane. Watching intently how tiny droplets of blood ran down his chin, dripping from his fangs. It was a dance on razors edge, having him taste my blood while simultaneously fingering to my orgasm, but I didn’t care. Mesmerized by the way his eyes were flickering between lust and hunger. Between the desire to fuck and kill me. And me being absolutely turned on by it was something I never imagined to happen.

Carlisles smile just grew wicked, when he realized how his appearance affected me. Wiping the blood off with his fingers licking them clean in the most sexual way I could imagine, he looked me deep in the eyes. “You like that, do you?” He asked. Unable to answer as I felt a third finger thrust against my core, I moaned in pleasure. “Answer me, love, or I will stop.”

“Yes.” Was all I was able to press out, is name now falling of my lips like a sweet prayer, not that there was anything holy left in this room, but I couldn’t care less.

As if he sensed the coil in my stomach growing tighter, he placed his other hand on my mouth, muffling my moans. “Careful, love. You were the one who didn’t want things to be official yet, remember?” And right as he said it, I could hear two of the female teachers pass our window, chatting about something. Luckily the curtains had been closed all day, because if it would have been otherwise, they would have seen the predicable scene I was caught in.

Dipping down again, his fingers and tongue kept working me relentlessly, finally pushing me over the edge. I lunged forward, as much as I could against his strong frame. My orgasm hitting me like a strong wave, pulling me deeper into the ocean. I let out a muffled cry, shaking uncontrollably in his arms. But Carlisle wasn’t finished with me. Coming up with his head, he licked my remains from his lips, wiping the rest of it on his shirt. His hand still playing with my pussy, he pinned me down against the mattress, kissing me hungrily. He tasted like a mix of my slick, blood and his overwhelming scent, turning my bones into a puddle in his hands. I attempted to catch my breath, which was hard, when Carlisle definitely wasn’t set on showing any mercy. Processing what just happened, I clung to his body.

Carlisle Cullen may be the calm collected gentleman for everyone else, but in the bedroom, he was as filthy as one can get. The difference only I got to see, making me melt into his arms even more.

His hands were roaming over my body, making me squirm under his cold touch. I felt the heat rise in my core again, my body calling out for him. “Please…” I whimpered, hooking my legs around his waist, pulling him in. “So needy.” He mused, kissing his way down to my breasts. Him taking a hard nipple in his mouth, had me jolt in blissful pleasure. Desperately for more, I tugged on the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. He understood what I wanted, standing up from the bed in one smooth motion. Then he was back on me again, his cold skin pressing against my hot body.

I could feel his hard cock rubbing against my core, twitching in anticipation. He guided his hard member into me, easing his way in slowly, but I was tighter than usual, another wave of cramps hitting me right when he entered me. I knew he could feel it, by the way he cursed under his breath. He stopped mid movement, jaw clenched, but his eyes showing me how much he cared for me. Waiting for me to give my okay. After a while I nodded, allowing him to fully bottom me out and when he did something between a moan and a painful hiss left my mouth.

“I am sorry, love.” He apologized, pulling back, but I kept him in place with my hands on my shoulder. “Its not you. I am cramping.” I let out, tensing up at the sudden pain shooting through me. “Just be careful.”

“Always.” Carlisle started to move slowly, distracting me from any pain with kissing me until my head spun. It didn’t take long for him to have me mewling his name again, eyes rolling back in my head. I held onto his shoulders, my legs wrapping around his waist giving him a better angle to fuck me.

He set a deep slow pace full on set to pleasure me as much and long as possible. I could feel how my walls started to accommodate him more, his cock soothing the cramps with every move. I hummed in pleasure, sinking into the pillows even more. “You feel so good. ‘S so good.” I mewled, not really caring how audible my words were. But his vampire hearing still enabling him to understand me.

“Let go, love. I got you. You are safe.” His words were water on a hot stone, instantly dissolving into steam clouding my mind. My limps were tingling, the knot in my stomach growing bigger and bigger every second, my brain completely short circuited, purely filled with his presence and the feeling of his delicate fingers, playing with my breast.

I barely processed, how he hovered over me, his full bodyweight supported with his left elbow, lips kissing every inch of my body. I was in heaven right now fucked by a literal god. And maybe him completely having me cock drunk in seconds was what got me to let out the most guttural moan I ever produced: “Daddy.”

It took me a few seconds to comprehend what just happened, but as soon as the realization fought its way through my fogged brain, I clasped a hand in front of my mouth. But Carlisle didn’t seem to mind my slip up one bit. Quite the opposite. He let out a low growl, nudging me with his nose. “That’s what I am to you? Your daddy? Fucking you so good you stop thinking properly, hm?” I just blankly stared at him, caught totally off guard by his shamelessness. “Is that what you want from me? Be my little girl, I take care off?” Shifting his weight, so he was now hovering over me with both arms pushing him upwards, he was now towering over me, his thrusts not even faltering one second. “Say it again, baby girl. Let everyone know who you belong to.”

“Daddy.” I moaned again, when he hit a particularly deep spot inside of me, pushing all the air out of my lungs. He smiled at me, leaning back on his ankles, while simultaneously raising my hips to fuck me deeper into the mattress. “Such a good little girl, you are. Taking your daddy so well.” He praised me, not letting go of my eyes. “Keep your eyes open. I wanna see you, when you make a mess on my cock. Oh, and what a mess you will make.”

I ripped my eyes open again, not being able to resist the soft English drawl he let slip in that moment. I could feel how the knot in my stomach was about to pop, threatening to throw me into the ocean of pleasure. And by the way he smiled down on me, he knew. Knew from the way I shivered in his hands, twitching uncontrollably around his cock. “Go on. Don’t be afraid, my love. I wanna see those beautiful eyes roll back in your head, when you come. Wanna feel how good I fuck you.” He spurred me on, smiling cockily.

And as on cue, I came.

Hard.

Back arching from the bed, my eyes rolling back inside my head. My whole body shivering in pure bliss from my orgasm, lips hanging open in a silent scream. I never came so hard and fast. The difference between the still sensual deep pace he thrusted into me and the rough filthy things he said to me, making my head spin in confusion. But Carlisle was not finished praising me: “That’s it. Ride it out, love. You are doing so good. Looking so beautiful like this.” I could feel myself leak on his lap, causing his cock to now draw even more lush noises from my pussy.

“Carlisle!” I cried out, now in complete subspace. “I need more. Please, daddy.”

“More from what?” He teased, not once faltering in his moves, driving me up the wall. “Use your words, little girl. Tell me what exactly it is that you want from me.”

“Harder, daddy. I need it harder. Need to feel you, please.” I begged, hands reaching out for him, trying to pull him down, but he resisted and I could hear the smugness in his words: “You already feel me, love.”

I cried out in desperation. “More. Need to feel you everywhere, daddy.” Finally, Carlisle gave in to my pleading, but different than what I expected. He pulled back from me, causing me to whine at the sudden loss of contact, but he shushed me quickly. “Shh, its alright, baby girl.” Manhandling me onto my stomach he hiked up one leg, settling between my thighs once again. And as he entered this time, he pressed me down with his full body. Effectively caging me in between his hard frame and the soft mattress.

“Yes.” I whimpered, feeling him thrusting much deeper into me than before. “Don’t stop. You’re making me feel so good, daddy. So safe. Thank you.”

“Always, love. Everything for you.” He growled in my ear and I could hear this whole situation didn’t let him be as unaffected as he firstly led on. The way he was now going harder, pinning my hands down with his strong fingers showed me how much it strained on his self control.

“Its okey, you can let go.” I mewled, arching my back to take him in a deeper angle, but he just groaned. “No. I am not finished with you yet.” The pure determination and possessiveness in his voice striking my once again. I moaned his name, calling out for him, earning a soft bite on my shoulder. “Such a good little girl. Taking me so well.” Sneaking a hand around my hip, he pressed two fingers on my clit, sloppily rubbing circles on it. “I wanna cum with you. Feel you around my cock, when I breed you. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, daddy.” I cried out, muffling my voice in the pillows. Goosebumps started to spread all over my body, a hot fire burning deep in my core once again. I clenched around his cock, eagerly wanting to milk him, feel his seed fill me up. Even though I knew I couldn’t get pregnant, the though of him breeding me whenever he liked, set things inside of me free, that I didn’t know I had.

A second shiver ran down my spine, spurring him on to fuck me even harder. His fingers were now moving faster, more demanding to give me a third orgasm. I started to shake uncontrollably, an indication for him, I was close. “I got you. Cum for me, love.” Was all he needed to say, to push me over the edge a last time. I came, a shivering mess underneath him. Clamping down on his cock, a muffled cry on my lips.

“Good girl.” He growled and I could feel him twitch inside of me, shooting his cold seed deep into my core. Riding out our orgasm he littered my back with kisses, leaving hot bitemarks behind, careful not to make them too visible. I gasped for air, blindly bucking against his frame, signaling it was getting to much for me. Instantly he, pulled out of me, starting to cuddle me, until his coldness made me shiver.

“Lets get you cleaned up, love and ready for bed.”

#fem reader #smut #carlisle x reader #carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen smut #daddy’s babygirl

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wish-i-were-heather · 5 months ago

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A FOOL FOR YOU PT 5⤵ GRAYSON HAWTHORNE X READER

ABOUT: 2610 words, no use of y/n (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4)

STORY: after so long avoiding it, you and grayson finally talk about what happened and figure out what it all means

WARNINGS: none!!

TAGS: @littlemissmentallyunstable @gretag13 @lanterns-and-daydreams @whatsamongus @alwaysthefangirl @zuzanna-jadw1ga @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @low-caloriesmonsterultra @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @jimcarreyfann42 @maybxlle @xoxo-vee @elysianwayy77 @ravishinglyliving - lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

A/N: this took wayyyy longer than i meant it to, sorry about that. i hope you guys liked this series because it was so fun to write!! (i dont plan to continue it but who knows...)

When you woke up, you could feel the cool morning breeze making its way into your room. The birds were chirping outside, and the sun was just at the right level to where it would hit your eyes and make it hard for you to open them all the way.

Your bed felt warmer for some reason this morning- the blanket heavier, the mattress firmer, the pillow softer. You weren’t complaining, no, it was actually a… nice change. A change from your normal routine, no matter how much you relied on it. Maybe it wasn’t really different and you were just still half asleep, or-

Wait.

You never slept with your window open.

You shouldn’t have been able to feel the breeze. Or hear the birds. Or have that much sunlight peeking through. It wasn’t that things just felt different this morning, but this wasn’t your room.

When your eyes snapped open, they widened at the realization of who was beside you, the realization of whose arm was resting lazily across your stomach.

Grayson Davenport Hawthorne.

Your breath caught when you saw him. Thankfully the man had put on a shirt, but he looked so unlike himself while he was asleep.

Grayson’s usually perfectly styled hair was tousled, some light strands falling onto his forehead. His breathing was slow, steady, gentle, and you could see the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. His lips were slightly parted, making a barely audible hum with each exhale. He looked younger, more boyish in this moment of relaxation.

It was a different look on him, but not necessarily a bad one.

He stirred slightly, and you were completely frozen, only watching as he rolled over from his back to his stomach, closer to you. You had no idea what had possessed you to get into a bed with Grayson Hawthorne last night, but you were now suffering the consequences.

You tried gently to push his arm away, but Grayson was surprisingly strong in his sleep and wouldn’t let go. In fact, it only seemed to wrap around you tighter.

He was killing you right now.

The worst part was, your mind was blanking as to how you got there. You knew that neither of you had anything to drink, so it wasn’t that. You also would’ve been able to feel it if you were hungover.

It was probably the mind fog from having just woken up, but you still didn’t like not remembering.

Pushing his arm off you only proved to be futile yet again. Just as you were about to get desperate and resort to calling his name, Grayson awoke.

Well, saying he was awake was an overstatement. Grayson let out a groan and his arm tightened around you further, like he didn’t realize it was you he was holding onto. He kicked his legs out, taking up a surprisingly large amount of the bed, almost tangled up with you.

“Hmm,” he muttered, slowly opening his eyes. “I… what the-”

Grayson’s eyes widened like yours when he saw you next to him and saw where his hand was placed. He immediately retracted the arm and as awkward as you’d found it, part of you missed its warmth.

He cleared his throat and spoke again. “Good morning. You’re awake.”

“Uh, yeah,” you confirmed. “Why am I-”

“In my bed?” Grayson interrupted. “After the pool last night, we came back up here and talked for a bit. You fell asleep and I didn’t want to wake you, so I figured I’d let you stay.”

Oh.

Phew.

“You should've just woken me up and I could’ve gone to my room, it’s not that big of a deal,” you told him.

“You’re a peaceful sleeper. I didn’t wish to get in the way of that.”

Did he really have you blushing this early in the morning?

“Oh, thank you,” was the only response you could manage.

Grayson sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. Everything about him looking younger and peaceful as he slept had gone away, and he was now back to his sharp eyes staring at you intensely. The eyes you could never read, the eyes that he always managed to hide so much behind.

You forced yourself to sit up too, and- oh my god you were wearing his shirt.

You hadn’t even known that Grayson owned anything besides the countless suits he always wore. And those sweatpants, apparently, from when he was drunk the other night.

But here you were, wearing your shorts from the night before but your hoodie replaced by a soft white shirt that was far too big for you. You realized you were still wearing your swimsuit under it, but it had dried by now.

A small noise came from his nose, just a little too loudly for it to be a normal exhale.

“What,” you groaned, sheepishly looking up to meet his eyes. “Do I really look that pathetic that I managed to make Grayson Hawthorne laugh at me?”

His corners of his mouth twitched upwards. “You don’t look pathetic. It’s just your face, you look…” he cut himself off and paused to find the right adjective. You could tell what he’d been about to say.

Please don’t say cute. For the love of all things sane, please don’t call me cute.

“Amusing.”

Somehow, that was worse.

You sighed and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The night before was starting to come back to you:

After the kiss, the two of you had stayed out there and talked for a good while. You got out of the pool, put your regular clothes back on over your swimsuit. Then Grayson offered to go up to his room. You accepted the offer, and when you got up there he’d offered you one of his shirts because your hoodie had gotten wet. He then put on a shirt himself, and you simply sat on his bed and talked.

And apparently you’d fallen asleep in the same bed.

Grayson cleared his throat. “You’re thinking.”

“Yes I am.” You didn’t even bother being surprised that he could read you so easily because of course he could.

“Is it selfish of me to guess that you’re thinking about last night?”

“I don’t know about selfish, but it certainly wouldn’t be incorrect.”

A beat of silence.

You felt out of place there, sitting on the bed next to him, probably looking like a mess. But the way he looked at you during that silence proved that he wasn’t necessarily upset about your unbrushed hair or half-awake eyes or the way the sleeves of his shirt on you nearly went down to your forearms.

“I meant everything I said,” he finally spoke. “I hope you know that.”

Oh, now he was willing to bring up the elephant in the room? Last time it had taken him a week. Though you supposed it was harder to avoid when you’d both woken up in his bed.

“Even when you were drunk?” You asked.

His voice was surprisingly soft. “Even when I was drunk.”

Another silence. There seemed to be a lot of them that morning. And in that silence, you let the reality of what had happened settle in:

You kissed Grayson Hawthorne last night.

Twice.

And all either of you had to say about it was some awkward banter.

But you didn’t know what else to say. What was a kiss to someone like Grayson? Was it just a meaningless action to him? Could he just kiss someone and forget? Or was it the opposite, you’d kissed and now there was no moving on? You assumed- you hoped for the latter, and knowing him it was most likely, but you couldn’t be sure.

He was Grayson Hawthorne, after all. Who knew how many girls wanted to kiss him. Not that he ever let them, but you wouldn’t think it strange of him to find a kiss to be worth nothing.

So you figured you just had to ask.

“What are we, Grayson?”

To your surprise, he smiled softly.

“That depends,” he told you. “What would you like us to be?”

Avery had sent you a voicemail at eleven the night before. She’d also texted you countless times ever since then, well into the morning.

By the time you left Grayson’s room, it was nine.

Your hoodie hadn’t dried overnight, so he’d let you keep his shirt. You’d tied it up to try to make it fit at least a little, but it was still far too large. And it smelled like him- that didn’t help.

You pressed play on Avery’s voicemail.

“Hello? Are you- oh, it’s a voicemail. Okay, uh, well, call me back when you can. You said you’d let me know what happens with you and Grayson. I mean since you haven’t come back yet I can assume it went well? I hope so, maybe since it’s late you guys-” She paused. “Nevermind, I don’t want to think about what you’re doing. Call me. Bye.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. What on earth did she think you were doing? But you couldn’t blame her, because you’d initially had the same thought when you woke up next to him that morning.

Avery answered your call back almost immediately.

“Hello?” Her voice said through the phone.

“Hey, I’m alive.”

There was a high noise from the other end, but you couldn’t quite make it out.

“Finally! I thought you drowned in the pool or something. You wanna tell what happened? It’s been, like, twelve hours.”

Damn, she was right. You’d gone to the pool at eight last night, and it was now nine in the morning. You spent most of those hours alone with Grayson, your mind decided to remind you. You had to push the thought out of your head.

“Yeah, I’ll tell you,” you said. “In person, though. Where are you?”

“We’re in the back, by the pool. Thought it would be funny to wait for you here.”

You frowned. “Who is we-”

“Max,” she explained. There was another sound from beside her. “She says to get the fox over here, beach.”

Talking to Max and Avery didn’t prove to be productive, but it had been fun. Long story short, Max thought the idea of drunk Grayson was hilarious and Avery fully thought you were joking when you told her you’d kissed.

That only offended you a little.

But the talk by the pool didn’t last too long. Eventually, you made your way back inside. You just wanted to be alone with your thoughts for longer. You still didn’t completely know how you felt about the whole situation, despite discussing it with your two closest friends.

You realized it was almost ten o’clock and you still hadn’t had breakfast, so you went to the kitchen. As you got there, you couldn’t help but think back to when Grayson had come in, hungover yet looking completely put-together. When he’d reached into the refrigerator and grabbed cherries for some reason.

You laughed quietly at the memory.

“What’s so funny, hm?”

Your head snapped back and you were met once again with Grayson Hawthorne. And once again he was in a suit, his hair fixed, looking perfect.

He had a talent for putting himself together.

“Nothing,” you replied. “I’m just thinking.”

Grayson walked over to you and nodded. “You do that a lot.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot to think about.”

“Care to share?”

Having a conversation with Grayson Davenport Hawthorne was always difficult. Not because of the way he spoke, no, but rather because of the way he looked.

How were you supposed to focus with those silver-gray eyes looking down at you, with the way the corners wrinkled with each poorly hidden smile? How were you supposed to stand up straight when every time his fingers even brushed your skin you melted into his touch?

How were you supposed to exist when he did too?

Oh, right, he asked a question.

“I’m thinking about what you said,” you told him honestly. There was no point in trying to hide your feelings from him now.

“And remind me,” he said, moving even closer. “What did I say?”

“That you meant everything you said, even when you were drunk.”

He nodded along, but he was clearly focused more on you rather than what you were saying.

“You said you wanted my face.” You said slowly. “I know you were drunk and it was just a stupid comment, but-”

He stopped with a finger to your mouth. “We went over this the morning after, no?” Grayson’s hand moved from covering your mouth to cup your face again and it took everything you had not to lean further into it. “I would be honored to have your face.”

Even if the words were stupid, the meaning behind them was so much stronger.

When he leaned in to whisper in your ear you nearly fainted.

“May I?”

You didn’t answer, but you let your arms wrap themselves around his hips as he leaned down to meet your lips with his and-

“Jeez you guys, get a room!” Grayson stood up straight at the new voice, but your hands stayed on each other. “This is like the third time this week I’ve walked in on you two kissing out in the open. Other people live here you kno-”

Xander, who had entered the kitchen and complained about your affection, completely froze when he saw you.

“You’re not Avery.” He then pointed to his brother. “You’re not Jameson.”

Grayson cleared his throat. “Xander-”

Xander gasped. “Wait, are you two, like, a thing? Like, dating? Like, kissy kissy cuddle cuddle muah muah?”

“Xander-”

“Oh my… I knew it! I mean, I didn’t want to make any assumptions, but the two of you have been acting pretty weird for a bit now and I thought-”

“Xander-”

“-hold on. Nash owes me so much money now.”

“Xander-”

“What Gray? Of course we have a bet going. I guess my optimism is finally paying off! I was right, you are getting together! This is the best news of my life-”

“Alexander.”

Xander finally stopped rambling and looked at his brother. Grayson was absolutely glaring at him, the kind of look that spoke volumes. And coming from him, it was even louder.

“Damn,” Xander said, shaking his head. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were such a party pooper. Actually, who am I kidding, I’ve known that forever.” He shrugged. “Just… keep kissing or whatever. Good job. Er, uh, I mean-”

“Just go away, Xander.”

“Yes sir. I’m gone.”

Once the footsteps were too far to be heard, Grayson let out a sigh of relief.

You burst out laughing. Grayson only stared at you with a blank expression, like he was waiting for you to stop, which only made you laugh harder.

When you’d finally caught your breath, he let his hand find your face again, this time tangling itself in your hair. “My brother seems to think we’re dating.”

You didn’t try to hide the blush that covered your entire face. “And how do you feel about that, Grayson?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t be upset if his assumption turned out to be true.”

Silence somehow fell upon the two of you again, but this time it was different. Not unsure, not nervous, not awkward. This time, it was a comfortable silence. A silence in which you looked into his eyes. A silence in which you could finally read one of the emotions hiding behind them:

Love.

“Grayson?”

“Yes?”

“I think I figured out what I want us to be.”

#grayson hawthorne #grayson davenport hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson x reader #the inheritance games #the grandest game #the hawthorne legacy #the brothers hawthorne #tig #tig fanfic #tgg #mightier than your sword𓂃🖋

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year ago

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Whoa you like Nuada too? I can’t pass this up! Can you please write Nuada with a reader who is cheerful individual? I like grumpy x sunshine ships 😆 I feel he wouldn’t know how to go about it and more confused when he falls for reader (Gender neutral pls)

Of course I like Nuada anon! How could I not?! I’d be ashamed of myself if I didn’t.🦦 also this is long as shit. I got carried away…no I won’t apologise.

Nuada first heard of you whilst being held captive at the BRPD through Nuala, whom had met you earlier that day through your mutual love of literature. And according to his sister you were a bright, bubbly, happy and warm individual who made her feel welcomed and included the moment she came to the Bureau; even going so far as to gift her with a poetry book with a cerulean blue cover.

It was actually a personal possession of yours but due to never haven gotten to read it, you had decided that it would serve Nuala far better than it ever did you. Nuala naturally refused to accept it but, you were persistent that she’d have it as you would rather have it be well loved and read than sitting on a cold, lonely shelf collecting dust.

‘They’re such a delight to talk to brother.’ Nuala began, clutching the poetry book with the cerulean cover close to her chest as though it were a priceless treasure, which to her it very much was.

‘They’re human dear sister, this persona they’ve put on is probably a trick, an illusions of sorts to lure you into a false sense of security.’ Nuada warns, not as trusting towards humanity as Nuala was. Giving? Warm? Welcoming? These were traits that the elven prince would’ve never associated with humans. Ever. It just sounded too far fetched to think that such a kindhearted and selfless person could ever have existed. Nuada only knew humanity for their glutinous greed, so such simple acts of kindness as gifting someone a poetry book, would do very little to change his perspective on the entirety of mankind.

Nuala frowns. ‘You haven’t even met them and yet you refuse to give them a fair chance. I understand your grievances towards humans but all I ask of you, dear brother, is that you learn to trust one, even if that one happens to be y/n.’ Nuala pleaded with Nuada, holding out on a spark of hope that with your influence, Nuada’s heart will no longer be veiled in shadows. Nuala truly believed that if anyone could come close to doing just that, it would be you, she just knew it.

Nuada merely scoffs at the notion his sister has in you being the one to unveil his heart of the pain and suffering. While he may have once bended to his twins every plea, this was one he could not find himself willingly doing so and the look upon Nuala’s face told him that she was very much made aware of that fact and wordlessly left.

Nuada wouldn’t get to experience you in your entirety until the BRPD decided that Nuada was trusted to head out on missions as your partner, they too also had some inclination that your bright and sweet persona would not only run off on Nuada but also soften his resolve against all of humanity; an request that would take a lot out of you.

‘You must be Prince Nuada. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name I’ve heard so much about.’ You said, barely able to contain your excitement at finally being given a partner. Sure the stories you’ve heard about the elven prince were…less then enlightening, framing him as an angry and vengeful being incapable of change, but the ones you’ve heard from Nuala however painted Nuada as a somewhat tragic figure.

‘I can’t remember the last time I saw my brother smile, if he even smiled at all.’ Nuala would say as a saddened look came across her face before she looked over at you when you abruptly grabbed her hand, face set in serious determination.

‘I’ll try and get him to smile more for you.’ You said.

‘It’s an impossible feat.’ Nuala counters but you weren’t having any of it.

‘Then I’ll just keep trying until I do, no matter how long that may take.’ You replied, staying strong to your conviction.

‘Why. Why would you go out of your way to do something for someone you barely even know?’ Nuala asked, feeling your strength, determination, heart and more theough just holding your hand alone. It was overwhelming of hoe bright you were that Nuala swore she would soon be blinded by your light alone, however it was because of your power of will that gave her hope, hope that you’ll might just do what she had long since believed to be impossible.

You merely smiled and relied with, ‘because even the strongest of us deserve to smile and like you said, you don’t remember the last time that you’ve seen your brother smile. So leave that to me and I promise to have Nuada smiling soon.’

And you always meant your promises. Always. What you wasn’t expecting was how handsome Nuada actually was. No one had bothered to tell you prior that your partner was a true beauty. A beauty with a piercing set of golden eyes and desirably soft, silky hair that fell past his shoulders in a platinum blonde waterfall. He held an air about him that made you both nervous and excited, however you had to quickly remind yourself that he wasn’t going to warm up to you nearly as quickly as you’d hoped.

Nuada on the other hand was immediately blindsided by your personality. It was so vibrant, colourful and filled to the brim with radiant life that he was certain that he looked rather dull and lifeless in comparison. It also looked as though his sister was right about many things in regard to your character, however that didn’t warrant Nuada to immediately start trusting you like she had wished for, after all you were still a human at the end of the day.

‘I’m-‘

‘Y/n. I’m aware.’ Nuada cuts you off abruptly before you could properly introduce yourself.

You made a face. ‘How-‘

‘My sister speaks highly of you,’ you began to smile at that but Nuada wasn’t finished, ‘but I have yet to witness what’s so special about you.’ You merely shrugged and answered with your entire chest. ‘You will soon enough. I promised your sister to get you to smile after all.’ Nuada’s brows raised at this but before he could get you to elaborate on that further, it was already time to head out for your first mission as a partnership.

Your first mission had turned out to be an avid success that it would only stand to reason to keep sending you and Nuada out as a team. You worked extremely well together and your fighting styles complement each others, while also concealing any weak spots that the other may have almost seamlessly. You and Nuada both complement missions in quick and swift succession. That was out in the field however, the way you acted towards Nuada afterwards made him feel a weird warmth within his chest.

You would often note of how Nuada fell a good distance behind everyone else after group missions, and so you would then fall to the back of the group also -not wanting him to be alone- before naturally falling into step with him, all the while still adhering to giving him his own personal space. You didn’t force a conversation with him like he expected you to, but instead allowed a calming silence to befall the pair of you as you headed home; Which was something he was oddly grateful to you for as he wasn’t that much of a conversationalist after battle.

However he couldn’t help but wonder why you were putting in so much effort into him. He hated your kind and yet you’ve treated him with nothing but respect and kindness. You didn’t push his boundaries, you didn’t overstay your welcome but even long after you left his side, Nauda could still feel your lingering warmth within every breeze that passed him by. Nuada just didn’t get why you were so hellbent on your promise to his sister, was it truly that important for you to help fulfil Nuala’s wish? And if so, what was it that she had said at the time for you that solidified your need to see it through film the end?

While Nuada had to admit, it was quite admirable that you kept to your word but some days he couldn’t help but question whether if that was your sole reason for sticking so close to him. Whether or not he’d ever confront you about it was his to debate upon later, but as for now he decided against it; His pride would never allow him to indulge in such thoughts and ideations that weren’t remotely relevant to hating humans.

Nuada had also noticed that after being your partner for a while, he had developed a need to protect you from all harm. At first he thought that if you died on a mission, the fault would fall onto him and he would be put back into confinement until further notice, but he soon learned that wasn’t actually the case; Far from it actually that he soon found himself sitting across from his sister to discuss about it.

‘Sounds like you have grown fond of y/n, brother.’ Nuala had said, smiling as she relishes in the times that Nuada obviously expressed interest in you without knowing it, but luckily that’s when the link they share makes situations like these a whole lot more simpler to navigate.

‘I merely find them more tolerable than others.’ Nuada defends, crossing his arms over his chest, still heavily in denial that anything he felt for you could possibly go beyond the realms of being cordial with one another. Yet that didn’t explain the sting in his chest whenever you were as joyful and excitable with anyone who wasn’t him, almost as though he wanted you to only beam that bright for him and him only.

‘Then why do you feel at peace with them near? Has their light finally unveiled your heart?’ Nuala asked and this time Nuada stayed silent for a longer period of time as he was beginning to realise that yes, you did infect have unveiled his heart from the shadows he cast over it. What scared him however was how you had done it. You constantly showed him patience during the times where he needed it, showed him understanding when he talked about his feelings, something he hadn’t done as much before meeting you; you even showed him solidarity for the times where he needed someone to stand by his side.

You had changed Nuada’s way of life in small but meaningful ways that there came a day where he starts to hate the fact that he had come this far without the gentle guidance of your voice for him to follow unto a better path. However despite acknowledging that you play a pivotal part in his current life, doesn’t mean that made Nuada’s understanding of his feelings any clearer than they were when he first discovered them.

‘They make me feel things I’d never thought I’d feel again Nuala.’ He began, knowing that whatever he said to his sister would be kept solely between them. ‘I’ve been lost admits my need for revenge that even the fluttering in my chest, or the warmth that reaches my cheeks feels foreign to me now.’ He adds, taking the time to remember the first time he felt something towards you that wasn’t explicit hatred for being human. ‘It feels as though I’m experiencing them for the first time and I can’t help but become addicted of sorts, that whenever they smile at me-‘

‘You hope that they smile at you like that forever.’ Nuala interrupts her brother softly, already quite well acquainted either that feeling from the times she felt Nuada’s emotions through the link.

‘Yes.’ Nuada said in an almost whisper. ‘I wish to be the reason y/n smiles as much as they are mine.’ Nuala couldn’t help but express her happiness for this new stage of Nuada’s life, all she wanted was for her brother to be happy and she was made even happier at the fact that it was you who made him the happiest he’s ever felt in a long time.

‘We shall get through this together brother.’ Nuala reassured, feeling her brothers’ still prevalent confusion, making Nuada look back at her, ‘then soon everything else will fall into place. You just have to put faith in the hope that y/n will be there to catch you when you fall.’

Nuada was still confused about everything but with hi sisters help, he hopes to surely get a clearer understanding of what he was currently feeling before confronting you about it.

#prince nuada x you #prince nuada x reader #prince nuada imagines #prince nuada imagine #nuada x you #nuada imagines #nuada x reader #nuada imagine

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redheadspark · 6 months ago

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Hi, this is first time I am asking someone for a story, but your prompts are so fun... Well my request is for Benedict and can you pla make a combo of prompt #2 & #19 (did you know its going to be this hot, write it to confirm 😅) and when its about Benedict it will be fun to read something smuty 😉

Hope I am not being very demanding ... Thanks in advance 💮

A/N - This was great to write, I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for the request!

Distract

Summary - Benedict knows how to distract you, even on a hot day

Warnings - Just fluff and a HINT of steam ;)

“Are you sure all the windows are open, dear?”

“Trust me, darling. I have every single window open in attempts to give us some relief with the breeze,”

You hummed, using the fan as much as you could as your husband, Benedict Bridgerton, was working away at his canvas and trying his best to finish the latest piece he was working on for a month. You loved watching him work, it was a peaceful time when you two would be in his art studio while you would be working on your correspondence and Benedict was painting. It was what you two would do every Sunday before you would have to start your hectic weekly schedules again.

You’ve been married to Benedict for almost 5 years now, you two have known each other since you were young and were madly in love with one another in your teens. Of course, you both had to wait until you both were old enough for Benedict to properly court you, then propose to you. It was rather silly since you both knew even as early teens that you would be married to each other for all of your lives. It was also a perk that your families were close friends, both sets of parents were already inwardly planning on your courtship when they saw the spark between the pair of you. It was safe to say that his mother, the sweet and kind Violet Bridgerton, was beyond happy to gain another daughter in her household and with her name.

You were glad too.

Having a small apartment in the Bridgerton Estate was an immense blessing, having new siblings to get to know and be social with, your own space to share with Benedict, and simply have your time as a wife with him. He was beyond an amazing husband, making things light in diet times, knowing when to make you laugh when you were sad or simply hold you when you needed physical contact. You both had flaws, but talking through them together as a team made it all worthwhile.

But now there was a minor heat wave that came through the area, and even the massive Bridgerton estate would not bring any relief that would help you anytime soon.

“Did you know it was going to be this hot today?” You asked nonchalantly as you were scanning the stack of envelopes on the desk for you to peer through.

“I wish I did, then we would have planned a better outing,” Benedict answered.

“Perhaps we should have escaped to the lake, like Kate and Anthony,” you hummed as you looked over another ball invitation while fanning yourself, Benedict chuckling from his spot at his easel while he was drawing a long stripe of blue on the canvas.

“I’d rather be in an audience of their…love for one another,” Benedict replied with a snort, making you giggle as you looked over in his direction. He was still dressed somewhat formally, you both coming back from a luncheon with your mother-in-law. His blue coat and undershirt brought out the shine in his eyes and the flushness in his cheeks, making him look even more enchanting than ever.

Every once in a while you would get lost in his appearance: whether he was working deep on a piece of art and his skin was stained in ink or charcoal, or even when you two were chatting during dinner and he was ranting about a family story. He had a way with you, a way to make you lose your train of thought or make time stand still.

“Darling?”

You blinked, seeing that Benedict stopped his painting and was watching you with a hint of concern, “Are you well?”

You smiled and blinked slowly, placing your fan on the desk and resting a hand on your cheek as you tilted your head at him, “More than well, since I get a marvelous view of my husband being a marvelous artist,”

Benedict grinned, the smirk he showed you was enough to make your stomach flip. You knew that look, something reserved for the pair of you out of the public eye. He may have Benn posted as a gentleman when it came to his name and how to conduct himself, but it was a different scenario when you two were alone. He knew how to make you cave from a simple look or sweet talk. Benedict has always been a flirt, before you got together and then after. But most of the time you were the object of his flirtations.

Which you would never object to.

“Just marvelous? Oh, you wound me,” He replied, you ruling your eyes as he continued, “The words I would use for my wife would be far more expressive,”

“Oh would they?” You asked, taking the bait that he was dangling for you. Benedict could only smile, placing the paint brush on the easel before he walked over towards you. He went around the desk, his eyes still drilling into yours with a signature smile as his fingers traced along the top of the dress, almost making a mess of your letter pile while he was getting closer to you. It felt like you were frozen in your spot in the chair, your fan staying still in your hand, Benedict reaching over to take the fan from your hand delicately.

“Divine…exquisite…intelligent….kind….angelic….” He laced every word with love and affection, inching closer and closer to you as he was now perched on the top of the desk, his eyes twinkled in the sunlight and your breath was lost in your throat. You felt every single one of those words hit you along your chest, making you feel so loved and almost as light as air.

As soon as he was close enough to have his lips brush against yours, you felt your stomach summersault as he eyed your lips for the briefest of moments.

“Just to name a few,” He whispered, you eyeing his lips in return as you finally grinned widely at you.

You dived in, kissing him deeply as he was perched over you on the desk. You both kissed, leaning into each other smoothly and with no hesitation while it felt like you couldn’t get closer than ever before. This was nothing new for you two, especially when it came to the throws of love. Benedict was an amazing lover, knowing which buttons to push and where to touch you with both his lips and hands. There was never a dull moment with your husband when it came to pleasure, and he would surprise you in the best way possible.

“Take off your jacket, the hell?” You huffed against his lips as you reached to push his blue jacket off. Benedict laughed, kissing you deeply as he threw off the jacket to toss it to the floor you spoke again, “You’re making me hot just by looking at you,”

“Just by my looks?” Benedict asked in a breath, you laughing as he reached to undo a bit of your dress with his nimble and skilled fingers, “I must be lacking then. Perhaps I should brush up a bit more,”

“Yes you must,” You hummed in return, almost in a growl. You both let the rest of the world slip away, just like your dress slipping to the floor as well as his trousers.

That hot day was bearable after all.

The End

July Prompt Session

#benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fandom #bridgerton #fanfiction #writing

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starryytales · 2 months ago

Text

More Manipulative Ragatha.

ACK-

This was meant to be ~500 words and one part of a short story that went into detail of Ragatha doing different things on different days to push Pomni's boundaries, get her closer, etc. And was inspired by yesterday's ask about Ragatha intentionally throwing herself into harm's way to get hurt and get Pomni's attention.

Instead it ballooned up into a little over 2000 words and will be something of a standalone.

I would like to give my thanks and dedicate this to @miguxadraws whose enthusiasm helped push me to hit the ground running with this one!

With that said: small TW for needles (the sewing kind), and I hope you all enjoy..!

“I’m never sure how to start these things…”

I muse to myself as I tap the colorful pencil’s eraser against the empty, waiting page of my journal. Being the second longest lasting person in The Digital Circus changes how you think about information. Unlike Kinger, for example, I’m doing my best to not go insane by holding on to every piece of information until my mind snaps and I become amnesic. That means writing things down. Journal writing and compartmentalizing things. Separating the bad from the good and keeping the good close and the bad locked away.

“I suppose starting with this morning wouldn’t be a bad idea.” I flip the pencil around and begin jotting down what all happened…

Pomni woke up on me today. I didn’t bother with sleeping. Instead I just enjoyed watching her quietly snore throughout the night. God, she’s so cute when she’s asleep. She’s even more cute when she’s startled. She woke up, adorably mumbling about whatever dream she was having (I heard my name!!!), and stared up at me for a few moments. I didn’t say anything because she was clearly still out of it and wouldn’t have understood me anyway. When she realized she was using me as a full body pillow she let out wildest little yipe I’ve ever heard. She nearly hit the ceiling from jumping off of me so hard! It took a hot moment and a re-heated, leftover salmon cake to calm her down after that. I let her get dressed in peace (thank you again, God, for giving me a button eye to stealth watch with) and she left with a sweet little smile on her face.

I pause writing for a moment when I hear someone trying to stay quiet while working on something outside my door. Probably Jax. Probably with a bucket of insects and some kind of mechanical trap setup. I shake my head irritably but stay quiet. Jax would have been a lovely boy toy to keep if not for the fact he can’t stop being a punk for more than ten seconds. My single regret with him is that he only had one heart to break. The sound of his trap construction jolts me back to writing by jogging my memory.

The adventure!

How could I have nearly forgotten that when it was a huge amount of progress with Pomni?

Caine rounded us all up just like he does basically every other day.

“HELLO MY MUTANT MASHED POTATOES TODAY’S ADVENTURE BLAH BLAH BLAH-”

It was some kind of movie-like, ancient temple we had to find the treasure room of. The important part was Pomni and I took the ‘medium’ difficulty route, and we did it by ourselves. I was just about to see how well she dealt with an unprompted hand on her shoulder when I realized I had seen the hallway we were in before on a different adventure. Caine doesn’t just re-use NPCs, he re-uses chunks of levels sometimes. And I knew we were about 15 steps away from a circular saw trap that would shoot out from the wall and try to leave us with a nasty cut, to put it lightly.

My first instinct was to let Pomni walk into it. I thought it’d probably go right through her leg, maybe even both of them. I’d have to carry her all the way to the end and she’d have no choice BUT let me hold her. My better judgment got a hold of me, though. That was an awful plan. She’d hate being useless and dependent on me (at the moment, anyway). But I could still use the trap to my advantage to make her touch me…

I suddenly remembered why I nearly forgot the whole thing. Ever feel so much pain your body and brain try to factory reset?

“Hey, I think I’ve seen this hallway before.” I told her as I switched the side of her I was walking on. I picked up my pace slightly to make sure I triggered the saw without catching her as collateral. I braced myself as hard as I could without letting on something was up. A small part of me was begging to just not do this, but the opportunity was too good to pass up.

“Really?”

“Yeah! From a different adventure!”

And I think she was going to ask if I remembered anything helpful about it. That’s about when a single stone beneath my foot pressed down and I let out probably the longest running censor-bleep in Digital Circus history. The saw was as quick as lightning. My left arm, right above my elbow, was effortlessly sliced off, and the blade tore through my side like I was made of paper. I screamed and fell away from the blade. I landed against the wall opposite of it and started sliding down to the floor. Good God it hurt so bad I was seeing stars. Pomni shrieked and rushed over to me, hovering over me like she’d found a murdered body in an alleyway. I was in too much pain to get her to stop screaming for a moment so I could tell her what to do, and then she said that she would go get help.

That lit quite the fire under me, because:

1. I needed to get her used to touching me by getting her to patch me up, and, perhaps more importantly-

2. I’M TIRED OF HER RUNNING OFF WHEN I AM IN INCREDIBLE PAIN.

I have to say, despite the pain I was in, I was pretty slick with my next words.

Any person scared and hurt might say ‘don’t leave me,’ but if I left it at that, she might have just offered me a platitude about being back as soon as she could be. I had to twist the knife. She managed a single step away before I lunged at her foot and seized her ankle. I didn’t need to pretend to cry, as there were plenty of real, agonized tears.

“Please don’t leave me again!”

The ‘again’ sold it like beer at a college ball game. Oh, it hurt to see so much remorse in her eyes but it’ll make her think twice before running off again in the future. She dropped to her knees next to me and sputtered a dozen apologies before going quiet when I placed my hand on her upper leg to get her attention.

I remember gritting my teeth and having to hiss through the pain to direct her to my dress pocket (conveniently on the same side I was missing an arm on, and oh my how those little hands wander in a pocket) where I had my emergency sewing kit. Ugh. I could have died from cute-overload while watching her fumble so shakily while trying to thread that needle. When she finally managed it she looked at me with huge, worried eyes for guidance on what to do next.

I pause again to enjoy the memory of her looking at me that way. It’s almost dreamy to picture her like that. So nervously hanging off my every word… I could REALLY get used to that. Where was I? Oh, right, my little jester doing doll surgery on my side.

Feeling her touching me gently was so, so nice. And she listens so well. I bet if I told her that the stitching would only hold if she barked like a puppy, she might have actually done it. I’m so used to sewing myself up that the little pricks of the needle barely registered to me, so I up-sold the pain they caused. Clenching my teeth and (remaining) fist, and scrunching my eyes while hiccuping every few seconds as if I were holding back a breakdown. She paused once and held my cheek, and told me if I needed a break she would stop. AGH. I could have eaten her alive on the spot for being so sweet! Instead I sighed, enjoyed the touch, and thanked her but said I was okay...

I love Pomni to bits but she sews like a blind grandmother with arthritis. No cut like that is ever good or easy to work with, but even Gangle manages a cleaner stitch on a bad day. Still, that meant we got to spend the rest of the adventure like that. Her pressed up against my side, trying her best to hold as steady as possible, while keeping my stuffing from falling out as she stitches me back shut. Definitely worth every ounce of pain. When she was done she even crawled over to my arm and offered to try putting it back on. Absolutely precious.

I told her not to worry about the arm. Caine could fix it when we get back, and about when I said that our AI Overlord’s voice rang clear throughout the structure. Caine congratulated Gangle and Kinger for reaching the treasure room first, and declared the adventure over. Pomni and I fell through a portal that suddenly opened beneath us, and just like that we were back in the tent.

Caine looked me over and quipped I had gotten “too adventurous for my own good,” before snapping his fingers and fixing my arm. He then said something about seashells and vanished. The others were already heading their separate ways when I walked over to Pomni and hugged her. She jumped slightly, but didn’t pull away. I thanked her as warmly as I could for staying with me, and I saw on her face that same guilt from earlier being soothed slightly. It wasn’t enough to put her at peace, but enough so she knows I will happily praise her for doing something good.

I let her go and I offered her another meal tonight – if she was feeling up to it, that is. I could see her putting real thought into it-

My writing is once again interrupted by a dainty knock at the door.

“Ragatha? I’m here for dinner, but-” I quickly slam my journal shut and hide it away again. The last thing Pomni needs to see is the contents of that book. I hop up from my chair with a spring in my step and grab the doorknob, only for Pomni to suddenly shout.

“D-don’t open the door yet! There’s a bucket full of something on the door frame. It’s attached to some kind of trigger. Kinger’s getting it down now.”

I hear Kinger scraping something metallic away from the door before the man himself speaks up.

“Oh! That’s where you’ve all been. How do my centipedes keep winding up in buckets..?”

I had clean forgotten Jax trapped the door. The thought of being stuck with a bucket on my head as all of Kinger’s little hellspawns crawl over my face is almost enough to make me throw up, pass out, and start writing a manifesto. All at the same time. Did I say earlier I only have one regret about Jax? I have two. And the second is that I can’t drown him in the cellar.

“Okay! It’s safe now!”

Cautiously I crack open the door. My eyes are drawn to the movement of Kinger walking down the hallway with a bucket full of nightmares in his arms, but I quickly focus back on to Pomni. I let out a low, tired sigh and smile at her.

“You saved me twice in one day.” I try not to swoon, but it still kind of comes out that way. The little blush she starts sporting on her face doesn’t help.

“Ah- don’t worry about it.”

God she’s so cute when she’s bashful. I open the door and step aside to welcome her in with a playful flourish.

“Well, come on in! A hero deserves her heroic feast! I’ll get on it right away.”

“A heroic feast of spaghetti and meatballs?” She laughs, the sound as sweet as wine, as she enters and steps passed me. I laugh back with her as I start to shut the door so we can start another night off right.

“And garlic bread, that’s the really heroic part!”

#tadc #tadc pomni #the amazing digital circus #tadc ragatha #ragapom #buttonblossom #jesterdoll #manipulative ragatha

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