#and steered off of the outcome that was expected

[37sommz]

❁ : watching the world go by . . .

✼. masterlist — taglist — request. ✼. genre: fluff with a touch of angst. ✼. wc: 2.3k.

despite their rocky partnership, the final race of 2021 presents a chance to repair the burnt bridges between the two mclaren drivers. abu dhabi presents one last chance for unity: beat ferrari.

✼. warnings: language, ferrari slander.

✼. notes: had to take a step back after the outcome of the election. but here's a little something about ad21. no angst here just lando and michaela getting along for 3 seconds before shit gets real lol

000.⠀⠀DECEMBER 12, 2021    ›    Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates

The sun had dipped below the horizon of the Yas Marina Circuit, leaving behind a lingering warmth that danced with the neon lights of Abu Dhabi reflecting off the asphalt. The scent of burnt rubber and fuel hung high in the air, a mixture that almost brought a smile to Michaela's face. Her heart raced with anticipation as she prepared herself for the last race of the 2021 season, her race suit tied in a knot around her waist as her McLaren fireproofs contrasted against her sun-tanned skin.

Michaela took a moment to survey the McLaren garage, her symbol of organized chaos. The pit crew moved with a charming precision, each member aware of their role in the pattern of preparation. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to find Lando, her teammate, flashing a genuine smile. His dark eyes met hers, the rivalry of the season's past fading into the background as they shared a moment of mutual respect.

"You ready to kick some Prancing Horse ass?" he asked, his accent cutting through the buzz of the garage. McLaren and Ferrari, like Mercedes and Red Bull, were level in the Constructors' Championship at the last race. In the grand scheme of strategy, the McLaren strategists had one bottom line: finish in front.

Michaela returned the smile. "Always." Her signature pink helmet rested at her side, a warm contrast to Lando's cool blue. The competition between them had grown exponentially over the season, but tonight, it was all about unity. The two drivers shared a routine fist bump before parting ways, each retreating to their respective corners for final preparations.

In the midst of the comfortable chaos of the garage, a sense of calmness washed over her as she stepped into her car. The cockpit was her safe haven, a place where she felt more at home than anywhere else in the world. She took a deep breath, the faint scent of leather and carbon fiber filling her nose. She pulled the helmet over her head, the world outside falling away, as she focused solely on the task at hand. 

Beat Ferrari.

The lights went out, and the roar of the engines filled the night sky. The race began with an energy that matched the neon lights in the air. She and Lando pushed their McLarens to the limits, fighting tooth and nail to keep their Carlos and Charles at bay. The tension grew with every lap, each pass and pit stop meticulously planned and executed.

Michaela's eyes remained glued to the track ahead, her mind a whirlwind of strategy and instinct. Her hands moved with a grace that belied their power, dancing over the steering wheel and shifting gears with practiced grace. Her car responded to her every command, an extension of her will. The crowd's cheers grew distant as she entered the zone, her focus narrowed to the task of outracing her rivals.

The race was tight, with all four drivers refusing to give an inch to one another. The anticipation grew unbearable, each corner a potential battleground where the season's outcome could be decided. Sweat beaded on her brow as the excitement made her heart race. She could feel the pressure, the weight of her team's expectations, and the desire to prove herself.

In the final laps, the McLaren garage grew completely still. The strategists whispered urgently into their headsets, watching the monitors with eyes that never blinked. The pit crew stood restless, crossing their fingers as the safety car approached the line, having been ordered to come into the pits to allow for one last lap of racing. In the cockpit, Michaela's heart pounded in her chest, this was it.

The safety car dove into the pits and the cars surged forward. On the straight, she saw the Yuki's Alpha Tauri in front of her, the only car separating herself from Carlos in 3rd. Pierre was closing in close behind her. Her knuckles whitened around the steering wheel as she pushed the pedal to the floor, her car screaming in protest. The final corner approached, and she knew it was now or never. She took a deep breath, her muscles tensing as she readied herself for the decisive move.

With a burst of speed, she darted to the inside of Yuki, the sound of the tires screeching echoing in her helmet. The crowd's roar grew deafening, and a wave of sound washed over the track as Max overtook Lewis. Her pulse quickened and her every sense heightened. The finish line was so close she could almost touch it.

Michaela's heart pounded as she saw her opportunity. The gap between Yuki and Carlos was narrowing, but she had the better line. She took a deep breath and made her move, her car sliding sideways. The tires found grip just as she pulled in front of Yuki, the G-forces pushing her into the seat.

The cheers grew louder as the cars approached the final straight. The Ferrari was in her sights, the checkered flag waving in the distance. The engine screamed in protest as she pushed the power to the limit, inching closer to Carlos. Her mind raced with the knowledge that this could be her moment, the one that would define the season.

Another blink and she was over the line, 4th to Carlos' 3rd. With Lando in 8th and Charles landing outside of the points, Michaela couldn't help the cheer that left her lips. The crowd's applause washed over her, but it was the excitement in her engineer's voice that sent a thrill through her veins. The race was over, the season concluded. As she slowed her car to enter the cool-down lap, a mix of euphoria and exhaustion swirled within her. The pit lane was a blur of waving flags and flashing lights as she made her way back to the garage.

The moment she stepped out of the car, the world rushed back in. Her crew swarmed her, their faces a mix of elation and relief. They'd done it. They'd brought McLaren back to the top 3. The joy overflowed as they all hugged and high-fived, sharing in the victory over their Italian rivals.

As the adrenaline subsided, the weight of the season's end settled in. It was time to celebrate, but also to reflect. The dinner with the team was a tradition, a chance to put aside the competition and revel in their collective success. The venue was a gorgeous restaurant with a view of the marina, the kind of place that whispered of wealth and tiny portions.

The team chatted and laughed, sharing stories from the season. The tension between Lando and Michaela had dissipated, at least for the night. They raised their glasses, toasting to the engineers who had crunched the numbers, the pit crew who had changed tires in a heartbeat, and the strategists who had orchestrated their battles from the garage. Lando spoke first, his words genuine and heartfelt, thanking everyone for their hard work and friendship. Then it was Michaela's turn.

Michaela's voice was steady as she began. "You all know how much this season has meant to me," she said, looking around the table. "This team gave me a home, a chance to prove myself. And together, we've done some incredible things." She paused, her gaze lingering on each face. "We didn't just race together this season; we fought, we learned, and we grew as one. To each of you," she lifted her glass, "Thank you for the long days and thrilling moments. Thank you for making this season one I'll never forget."

The room grew quieter, the air thick with emotion. The crew's eyes shone with pride, and even the stoic engineers couldn't hold back smiles. The toast was met with a round of applause, glasses clinking together in a harmony of appreciation.

"And now," Lando announced, "As a gift from me and Mick." His use of her nickname brought a smile to her eyes. "The bill's on us tonight."

The room erupted in cheers. The team's faces lit up with astonishment, and a chorus of 'thank you' echoed around the table. The tension of the race had been replaced by a warm cheerfulness, the mood growing more festive as the drinks made their rounds.

As the night progressed, the conversation grew more relaxed. The strategists regaled the group with tales of their last-minute decisions and the engineers spoke of their ingenious solutions to mid-race issues. The pit crew laughed at the more comical moments of the season, and the drivers shared stories of their off-track escapades.

Zak eventually made his way around the table, speaking to each member of the team, his eyes filled with genuine gratitude. When he reached Michaela, he paused, his hand on her shoulder. "You've had quite the year, young lady," he said, his American accent standing out against the sound of the bustling room. "I'm proud to be able to call you one of us. There's no doubt in my mind that you've been a dedicated part of the team since day one and I can't wait to see what you do next, kid."

Michaela felt a warmth spread through her at his words. "Thank you, Zak," she replied, her voice a mix of pride and something else she couldn't quite name. "I just want to make sure we keep moving forward."

He nodded, his gaze serious. "I know you're looking for that #1 spot," he said, his voice low enough to be just for her. "And I'll consider it, I promise. But you know the business. You've got to keep pushing, keep showing us what you're made of."

Michaela took a sip of her champagne, her mind racing. She had felt the sting of the team's indecision before, the way they often played favorites. "I get it," she said, her voice measured. "But my contract's up at the end of 2022. I need to know if McLaren is going to back me fully, or if I should start looking elsewhere."

Zak's eyes searched hers, understanding her urgency. "I know you have options," he replied. "And we want you to stay. But I can't make promises without considering the full picture."

The words hung in the air, a gentle reminder of the unspoken truth of their world. The business of Formula 1 was a cutthroat one, where loyalties could shift as quickly as the wind. The night grew later, and the conversations grew quieter. The celebration had reached its crescendo, and the room was now filled with the mellow buzz of satisfaction.

Michaela couldn't shake the feeling that her future was up in the air. She took another sip of her champagne, letting the bubbles dance on her tongue, before setting the glass aside. The taste of victory was sweet, but the bitter aftertaste of uncertainty lingered.

The party eventually wound down, the last of the crew members leaving the restaurant with a mix of laughter and yawns. The quiet was a stark contrast to the deafening roars of the race and the cheers of the night. Only a few remained, including Lando, who was deep in conversation with a group of engineers, and the strategists, who were already dissecting the race's data.

Michaela took the opportunity to slip away, stepping out into the cool night air. The marina was alive with the sound of distant music and the hum of conversation. She leaned against the railing, watching the lights dance on the water, lost in thought. The season had been a spectrum of emotions, from the exhilaration of the top step to the bitter taste of defeat. Now, with the off-season approaching, she faced the uncertainty of her future with McLaren.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft footsteps of someone joining her. She looked over to see Lando, a rare moment of quiet reflectiveness etched on his face. "Mind if I join?" he asked, holding up a fresh drink.

Michaela nodded, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. They stood side by side for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts about the race, the season, and conversations with Zak. The cool breeze of the marina was a welcome relief from the stuffy air of the restaurant.

"Can I just say something?" Lando finally broke the silence, his eyes still on the water.

Michaela turned to look at him, curiosity piqued. "Sure."

"I know this season hasn't been easy for us," Lando said, his gaze never leaving the water. "The rivalry, the pressure. But, I've got to admit, it's brought out the best driver in me. And I think it's done the same for you."

Michaela studied his profile, the reflection of the marina's lights dancing in his eyes. "It definitely has," she conceded, the tension between them easing.

"Look, I know we've had our moments," Lando continued, taking a sip of his drink. "But I just want you to know, I respect the hell out of you. You push me, and I know we can both do great things if we keep this up."

Michaela nodded, a sense of understanding passing between them. They had been adversaries, allies, and rivals all in one season. Yet, as they stood there, she knew that they shared a bond that extended beyond the track. "Thanks, Lando," she said, her voice soft. "The same goes for me too."

They remained there, side by side, watching the water dance. The tension of the season had brought them closer than they had ever been, and for a brief moment, the future didn't matter.

For a brief moment, they were just two friends, watching the world go by.

[deception-united]

Let's talk about misdirection.

(Requested by @voiceless9000. Hope this is helpful!)

Misdirection in storytelling, through foreshadowing and other techniques, is a powerful tool that can enhance suspense, surprise, and engagement in your narrative and make plot twists more unexpected.

Remember to maintain coherence and avoid contrivances that may undermine the integrity of your storytelling.

Here are some techniques you can use to effectively misdirect readers:

Red Herrings: Introduce elements or clues that suggest a certain outcome or plot direction, only to later reveal that they were misleading. These false leads can divert readers' attention away from the true resolution.

Selective Detailing: Highlight certain details or events in a way that implies their significance, while downplaying or omitting others that might be more relevant to the actual outcome. By controlling what information readers focus on, you can steer their expectations.

Character Misdirection: Use characterisation to mislead readers about characters' true intentions, motivations, or identities. Create multi-dimensional characters who may behave ambiguously or inconsistently, leaving readers unsure of their true allegiances, motivations, or goals.

Foreshadowing: Employ foreshadowing to hint at future events or outcomes, but do so in a way that misleads interpretation. Provide clues that could be interpreted in multiple ways or that lead readers to expect one outcome while delivering another. (See my previous post about foreshadowing for more!)

Misleading Narration: Utilise an unreliable narrator or perspective to present events in a biased or distorted manner. Readers may trust the narrator's account implicitly, only to discover later that their perceptions were flawed or intentionally deceptive.

Subverting Tropes: Set up situations or scenarios that seem to follow familiar narrative tropes or conventions, only to subvert them in unexpected ways. This can keep readers guessing and prevent them from accurately predicting the story's trajectory.

Parallel Storylines: Introduce secondary storylines or subplots that appear unrelated to the main narrative but eventually intersect or influence the primary plot in unexpected ways. This can distract readers from anticipating the main storyline's developments.

Setting: Manipulate the setting or environment to create false impressions about the direction of the plot. For example, presenting a seemingly idyllic setting that harbors dark secrets or dangers.

Timing and Pacing: Control the pacing of your story to strategically reveal information or developments at opportune moments, leading readers to draw premature conclusions or overlook important details. (See my post on pacing for more tips!)

Twists and Reversals: Incorporate sudden plot twists or reversals that upend readers' expectations and challenge their assumptions about the story's direction. Ensure that these twists are logically consistent but sufficiently surprising to catch readers off guard.

Happy writing!

Previous | Next

[dreamauri]

WHEN IS THE NEXT CHAPTER OF My love mine all mine COMING OUT BCZ IM INVESTED

┇𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 - part five ┇୧ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ :🪴: ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ୨୧ ╮ ┇arranged marriage does not always hold ┇the outcome you expect !! ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊   ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max vertsappen  x  wife! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( romance + smut )  ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠song — ( link ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠word count — ( 1, 047 ) ╰  🌿 :: ⁠ content warning — ( oral f receiving )

★ ☆ 🫡 ━━━━━━━

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( previous | next )

"First driving lesson. Are you ready?" "Absolutely not."

You gave a smile and thumbs up to the camera recording you and your husband, whilst max adjusted the strap to your helmet. "Learning to drive in a fast car is a bad idea." You warned him. looking around the controls to the NSX.

"It's not a bad idea." Max assured you, reaching over and buckling you up. "It very much is, liefje." [baby] You dismissed, looking out the open window to the Red Bull team filming you guys from the outside. "Can we get a slower car? I feel like We'd be much safter in . . . I have no idea. A slow car. A Kia maybe?."

Max laughed at you. "Are you serious? A kia? You think I'm a bad teacher." "No!" You turned to him quickly, holding his hands. He was teasing you but you still felt the need to make sure he knew. "Max, you're an amazing teacher. But you being intact is more for our home race is more important than me learning drive."

"You don't like my birthday present?" He gasped, putting his hand on his chest, being dramatic. "I—" you pulled him in a kiss only for your headgear to bump into his and stop you. "ow . . . I was gonna say I love it." Max laughed at you, leaning his head on the window while your glared at him.

"Where's the go and stop." You were commanding him now, putting both your hands on the steering wheel.

You did eventually get the basics, you were to scared to lift your leg off the brake that the car was literally only moving for a meter before it came to a full stop. The process of breaking every few seconds continued until max was able to get you confident in yourself to drive a steady 40 kilometre per hour around the long straight.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"How is it, with the wife." "My wife?" Max's eyes light up at the mention of you. He was up onstage in the fan zone, sitting on a stool with checo and an f1 presenter. "Married life, how is it?"

"Well, I didn't know if the video went out yet, but i just gave her her first driving lesson this morning—" "really?" Natalie pink ham butted in, giggling.

"Is that what that was?" Checo laughed along with the crowd.

"I mean, no offense, Shatje; she sucks at driving. But it's nice to have that contrast, because I cannot paint or cook for the life of me." He laughed, leaning back to look at the side stage where you stood, smiling at him. "She's gonna kill me when we get home. Look at that smile."

The crowd erupted in laughter. Max waved you a hi, even though he was spending the whole day with you. You rolled your eyes playfully, folding your arms. You couldn't help the smile that curled on your lips as you looked at the cute puppy of a Dutch f1 driver. "Beautiful smile." Max chuckled, turning back to the fans.

You two were stuck to each other after the interview, sitting all cozied up in the hospitality, snuggled up to each other as you scrolled through your phone, both of you judging the décor and furniture you would need to renovate.

"This wallpaper is nice." You hum, pressing on the image. "My love, we don't need wallpaper. We have you." You chuckled, shaking your head. "I'm serious, you're very talented." He tilted your chin up kissing you.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Maxie!" you called through the house, peaking out of the bathroom door. You peaked down the foreign Belgian house, looking down the hall looking for your husband. "Maxie!" You called louder. "Ja, schat?" [yes, love]

"Kun je een handdoek voor me halen? . . alstublieft." [can you get me a towel, please]

"Wat? ik kan je niet horen."[what? i cant hear you] he called back. You could hear the faint noise of the tv from where max sat in the living room.

"Towel, Max." You sighed. What was he watching, foot ball? "I'm wet, and I'm cold and I'm naked—" yep that did it. You heard his footsteps run up the stairs at the word, his fluff of blond peaked from behind the wall to try and see you.

But you thought before hand and hid your body behind the door so all Max could see was your wet and messy hair and smile as you repeated the word. "Towel."

He pouted with a huff as he stomped to your room, returning seconds later with a fluffy towel. "Thank you." You hum, pulling the towel in with you, disappearing behind the door. Only, the towel was pulling from you. You peaked out the door to see Max holding the opposite corner, puppy eyes as he looked at you.

"Max, not now." You whispered feeling your face redden with embarrassment as he tried to peak in. "één kus, één kus." [one kiss, one kiss] you pleaded and you couldn't say no, leaning in and granting him his wish.

Well, you ended up granting him another wish as well because asking for one kiss turned into two kiss turned into 6 turned into 20 and so on. Which led you to being eaten out for the first time while sitting on the edge of the bathtub, hand entangled in blond locks, with gasps leaving your mouth.

You didn't know what max was doing, head between his thighs, eyes staring up at you as he licked and sucked and lapped and did things you never imagined of before. Your body shivered each time his warm tongue would drag across your gummy walls or take your bud into his mouth. You didn't even realize it when your orgasm dawned on you, heaving with whines and whimpers.

You caught his lips once he was back to your height and max was quick to return the favour, savouring your lips as he pulled you straight to your feet to his bedroom, 2 and a half hours from zandvoort f1 circuit; but he wanted you to have your first time in a home, under the moonlight of his windows.

Which you've got to admit, was a magical night.

[snepril]

I'm a trans woman and I'm otherkin. Both labels describe parts of me, but neither describes all of me. Yet at the same time, they're both closely intertwined, both key parts of my discovery of who I am - and both more alike than one might expect.

I knew I wasn't supposed to be a guy. Even from a young age, I was drawn to feminine things. I wanted to be a girl - I just didn't have the words to say it, didn't understand why I felt the way I did. And as I grew older, that feeling crystalized. I tried to deny it, to pretend it didn't matter. Besides, it was never the conventional picture of dysphoria - I could manage being a guy. It was tolerable. That was enough, right?

But it wasn't what I wanted. I knew I'd be happier as a woman - I knew it with a certainty and clarity I could never put to words. I knew, and the moment I realized there was a path forward, a way to be who I knew I wanted to be, I took it. I transitioned. It cost me a lot - my home, my years spent in college, my friends and stability - and it was all worth it. Having that weight off my chest, getting to live as who I always wanted to be... it made everything else so much easier. It's like a good night's sleep - sure, you can manage without for a while, but it saps your strength, makes everything else so much harder.

But as I transitioned, as I embraced my life as a woman, I realized... I wasn't quite where I wanted to be. I was closer - so much closer - but I wasn't there yet. There were a lot of little things I wanted to change about myself... and one big one.

I wanted to be something other than human.

At first I denied it, pretended it didn't matter. I had done so many things I'd never thought possible - I'd transitioned, I had a good job and was living on my own. I had good friends and the freedom to steer my own life. Wasn't that enough?

And those words were familiar. The feeling was familiar. It didn't take me long to put two and two together. And when, one day, an impulse art commission gave me my first ever picture of myself as a sphinx...

...I knew. I knew that this feeling was the exact same one that drove me to transition. I knew denying it would work about as well as denying that I'm a woman. So I decided not to. I decided to accept who I am.

I'm a woman, and I'm a sphinx. I'm transgender, and I'm otherkin.

Otherkin. Somehow, it's an even more loaded word than transgender. It implies so much, and that made it harder to accept. I don't believe in other realities or reincarnation. I don't believe I was a sphinx in a past life or other world - I'm really not spiritual at all. So how can I call myself a sphinx if, objectively, I know I've got the body of a plain old human?

The same way I knew I was a woman.

I'm not ignorant of my biology. I know what's coded into my DNA and what my body is shaped like. But why should any of that have any say on who I am? I'm more than my body, more than the chance outcome of genetics and evolution. I get to decide who I am - and I choose to be a woman, and I choose to be a sphinx. Why? Because it makes me happy. Because it feels right. Because it's my life to live and I get to live it how I want, so long as that doesn't hurt anyone else. Sure, I can't transition to be a sphinx in real life (not with modern technology, anyway), but when has an inability to transition ever made anyone's identity any less valid? I'll do what I can to make my body more comfortable and live with the rest, because the alternative - pretending what I feel doesn't matter - isn't living.

I'm a transgender woman.

I'm an otherkin sphinx.

And I'm happy.

[adnauseum11]

Operational Risk Management (John Price x Reader)

Kate calls with some bad news.

1k words

CW: swearing, military inaccuracies

This work is part of the S.N.A.F.U. series, master list also pinned to my blog.

Masterlist

Ao3

John’s phone lights up in the center console with an incoming call just as you are returning to the flat. Two hefty shopping bags of new glitter-less decorations are safely secured in the back seat. His patience ran out about half-way back from your excursion, locked in a snarl of holiday traffic. When he began to grumble about the lack of common sense on display, you reminded him that he wanted to tag along with you. The look he gave you afterwards was dark, but you didn’t let it faze you, used as you are to his intermittent grumpiness. Still, you’re happy to claim your spoils and clear off so he can take his phone call in peace, his annoyance doing nothing to dampen your spirit. 

“Hello?” 

John’s tone is curt. The familiar sound of chopper blades swells and then he can hear Kate over the staticky line, immediately picturing her cupping her hand over the bottom of the phone as she clears the rotors. 

“John? Got some news, you aren’t going to like it. Can you talk?” 

She’s moving, likely just landed. John’s brain is leaping ahead, trying to fill in the gaps. 

“Yeah. What happened? Gaz alright?”

Kate cuts straight to the chase, apparently no time to waste on pleasantries. 

“The commander Gaz is working under is a younger brother to man killed in Las Almas - belonged to Shadow Company. He’s leveraged his position with Norris to start knocking on doors to find out what happened to his brother and he’s managed to get enough intel to hold the 141 responsible.”

“Jesus Christ Laswell.”

John’s palm comes down with a slap on the steering wheel, his mood worsening. He can feel his blood pressure rising as Kate’s terse voice washes over him.

“I suspect Norris is feeding him information. We’re going to keep working on that end, see if we can confirm anything. When you turned down the contract and that photo popped up, he tried a different path. The commander did basic training with your girl’s would-be-assailant years ago, before the dishonourable discharge. We think he’s currently switching tack again. Gaz is obviously compromised, and they’re about to ship out.”

“Ah hell Kate.” 

John’s violently pushing his fingers through his hair, the implications of Gaz being in the thick of this commander’s operation making his stomach turn to lead. 

“I didn’t know John, didn’t think Norris’ men needed further vetting. Lesson learned. I’ve got a potential intercept point. Right now, we’re handling some rendezvous communications for them as we’ve got friendlies in the field, Gaz being one. They’re going to be sent to recon a chemical manufacture plant in Lithuania for a potential raid.”

Kate’s tone suggests she’s well aware of her fuck up, and John respects her enough to leave it there, satisfied with her acknowledgement.

“There’s got to be a vulnerability we can exploit to get Gaz to safety.”

John’s instinct is to plan, even without any intel yet.

“Ghost is planning an avenue of approach for the potential intercept point before whatever the commander is up to comes to fruition out there. We urgently could use an extra set of hands in the know, Captain. Timing is critical here. Gaz’s assigned taskforce won’t be expecting us. If we do this correctly, we can bury this for good with no one the wiser.”

John looks up at the flat, can almost picture you flitting around, rearranging items to account for your new prizes. His heart sinks as he makes the only decision his conscience will allow. 

“Yeah, my bag is mostly packed. I can be at the base in a few hours for pick up if you can arrange liaison.”

Kate asks the question he’s been dreading since this conversation started. He can guess at the outcome and is in no hurry to be proven right. 

“Your girl going to be ok with the last-minute change of holiday plans?”

At the mention of you, John’s brain immediately pulls the image of you naked in the shower, flushed from the orgasm he’d just given you, admitting you’re in love. The center of his chest aches at the thought of leaving you alone during the holiday you’re so obviously excited to share with him. At one point, early on, he was confident that he knew exactly what he was doing. His emotions lately tended to be out of control and headlong, almost impossible to moderate. After years of relentlessly telling himself it was better to keep his distance, to stay platonic, he’s finally getting what he’s coveted after all this time. And still, he can’t stop his greedy heart from wanting more. He fights back the uncharacteristic swell of emotion and clears his throat, refocusing on the conversation at hand.

“I’ll handle it. Not leaving anything this volatile for someone else to clean up. I want assurance it’s over.” 

“If you’re sure. You’ve been moving fast with this woman John. I’m assuming you know what you’re doing here.”

His laugh is dark, the sound of a man whose best laid plans are unravelling in front of his eyes. 

“Gaz would do the same. I’ll sort it out on my end, set up the liaison for 19:00.”

John is all business, putting any indecision firmly to rest in short order.

“We appreciate the assist; I’ll debrief you further once you’re on route. And John?”

“Yeah?” 

He’s preoccupied, already trying to work out how to explain what’s about to happen to the woman he loves.

“Good luck, hope you bought her something nice.”

Kate’s tone is a mix of gentle teasing and honest concern. John’s foul mood refuses to rise to the occasion.

“Piss off Laswell.”

John grates out before hanging up the call and sighing deeply, gripping the steering wheel tightly. He shouts a handful of curses into the empty car, grateful for a mostly vacant street to witness his outburst. He takes several deep breaths to gather himself again before stepping out of the car to rejoin you in the flat and break the news.

Next Chapter

Tag list:

@deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @writeforfandoms @syoddeye @itr-00 @chloepluto1306 @batw3nch

[sapphicfloyrid]

Wowoawiw happy lesbian day

Anyways here’s some writing I have for an au :3 (it’s like a reverse corpse bride thingy but with my hcs so tfem Floyd x tfem riddle)

Also I’m very open to criticism so any criticism would be appreciated

Floyd sat down on the balcony, staring down at all the people who were passing by. All she could think about was the events that have occurred for the past days.

And today was the most happiest day of her life. A wedding was to come and the bride was happy too! It took a while for Riddle to adjust, but Riddle soon realized that she was here to stay. The moment she figured it out, she gave Floyd a big hug while crying in her arms.

That was around two hours ago, and here she was now leaning against the balcony’s railing lost in thought again.

“You know, when you had proposed to me, I never expected this as an outcome.” Floyd turned her head to see Riddle next to her as if she had teleported. Did corpses have teleportation powers actually? I mean if they could talk and come to life, perhaps they did have some powers? Ah, probably something to be answered for another time.

“Whad’dya mean?” Floyd tilted her head in confusion.

“I mean…” Riddle sighed, rubbing her temples as if frustrated. “Most, if not all who have proposed have ran away from me. Always screaming about how some monster tried to get them to marry them, crying about the ‘dead rising’ and whatnot.”

“Aww, whatta buncha losers.” The taller one let out a laugh as she spoke.

*Riddle blew on the strand of hair lying on her face, before tucking it back behind a maggot eaten ear.* “I suppose so. I still have no clue on why you stick around, of course.”

Floyd’s expression changed from neutral to worried. “What? Why?

“I had expected it to be the normal affair of having to deal with someone running off in fear and an attempt to try to escape the underworld.” Riddle turned her head to face down on the people passing by. “But you stayed, and you were even enthusiastic to marry me. Why is that?”

Floyd let out a nervous laugh, fidgeting slightly with her hands. This was an unexpected sight as she had normally presented herself with a rather relaxed and confident persona. Seeing her fidget nervously at a simple question was something unexpected. “W-Well… you were the one nice enough to approach me.”

Riddle turned her head back to Floyd.

“I mean, no one ever really approaches me like that. Everyone always thinks of me as some scary monster or they hate me…I really don’t have anyone to bond with or who can tolerate me.”

She took a deep, shaky breath. “Yer basically one of the few who isn’t scared of me. Even if it’s just your curse or whatever, I still appreciated that.”

Floyd turned a violent shade of red as she quickly looked away in embarrassment. “Ah, you don’t need all that sappy shit right now I’m sorry.”

“You? Scary?” Riddle let out a giggle, to which Floyd whipped her head back to look at her. “I’m sorry, but there’s no way people have found you scary. I mean I found it worrying at first that someone’s willing to stay within the underworld, but I would never classify you as ‘scary’. You’re more of a big dog in my eyes, especially with how excited you seem to be at the prospect of spending time with me. And honestly, that aspect of you is one I find extremely adorable.”

Adorable?

Adorable?

That was never a word used to describe Floyd and her mannerisms.

Slowly, tears started rolling down her cheeks as Riddle kept going on about the little quirks she found adorable about Floyd when they first met, calling them all sorts of things, ones that Floyd knows that were never used to describe them in the past.

No one has ever shown her this amount of love at all, no one ever looked at her and didn’t think to keep away and steer clear of her. Riddle seemed to be the only one who never saw her as “scary” or “dangerous”.

Riddle took notice and wrapped her arms around Floyd, pulling her into a hug as she kept telling her how she’s adorable and how she’s thankful she stayed this long. Her voice was mixed with Floyd’s sniffles and sobs as she caressed the girl’s hair.

The two stayed like this for a few more hours.

[emeliejeannie]

so I'm both excited and mad about the special and what this means for season 6. on one hand, I love a good conflict, an angsty plot point. I love that the characters have flaws in this show, especially a main character. and I also love that the special doesn't try to convince the audience that what Maribug did was a good thing, it let's you decide for yourself. I personally think it was a bad decision, but that's what I love about it.

and at the same time, I'm angry. because HOW is this show going to survive if the main character did something so awful? Marinette is COVERING UP FOR THE VILLAIN WHO'S ALSO HER BOYFRIEND'S ABUSER. she is covering everything up and turning it into a good thing in Adrien's eyes. she's twisting all the abuse into something good, making Gabriel seem like a hero he never was and never will be. and I honestly don't know how the writers are going to pull this off, like how can Adrien EVER forgive or trust her again? it's not realistic and not a good message to the YOUNG and impressionable audience. Marinette did something awful. She had good intentions, and the reason why she lied is because she didn't want to hurt Adrien, but it was awful regardless. she didn't consider what ADRIEN would want, she failed to consider his autonomy.

I don't understand how the lovesquare is supposed to keep sailing like this, in this weather. because right now, what Adrien would need is to get away from Marinette. for his own well-being. not because Marinette is being toxic on purpose or anything, but that it's just the way it is. because all the blame is on her at this point. sure, she had all this responsibility just dumped on her without regard for her mental health, how much of it she could take. everyone just expects her to solve everything without giving her any support at all. (Kagami, Felix, Su-Han) so I understand where she is mentally, it's not at all surprising that she made that decision to lie. but all her turmoil can't excuse it. (I actually think Nathalie should've stepped in and steered Maribug in the right direction, bc she is the only adult here. but alas)

so I'm genuinely scared for what's to come. I won't accept Adrien to be treated this way, and I wish for a healthy and acceptable resolution for this plot point.

if I had any say in what this would've looked like, it would be that Marinette crumbles at some point, choosing to tell Adrien the truth herself. she sits him down somewhere private and reveals her identity, so he could get all the context. she tells him about his conception, the reason why his mother passed away. how Gabriel was Hawkmoth, and his motives and how Nathalie was involved in it. about the final fight and the wish that was made. y'know, the whole truth.

and I want Adrien to be mad. I want him to be furious. that's his damn right. (maybe Chat Blanc 2.0?) and I want him to ask for space, so he could process and think things through. (no break up bc that would break me as well)

he'll probably be thinking for some time, maybe a few weeks, then he'll come to Marinette when he's ready to talk more and come to a conclusion and what to do next in their relationship (and also what to say to the public)

that would be my preferred outcome, I guess. Marinette having to slowly build back everything she'd ruined between them in some way. and then happily ever after blah blah blah

[ushsblog]

Sofia the First Alternate Universe

Hi everyone! A few days ago I was thinking about an AU where the dynamics of Sofia and Cedric's friendship changes a bit. I have finally decided to share it, what better time than this week that celebrates their friendship.

Royal Pariahs

"Bad" Sofia and "Good" Cedric

In this alternate universe, when Sofia arrives at the palace, she starts having behavioral issues due to her inability to fit into royal life and the constant rejection from Amber and other royals. In contrast, Cedric, although still the same grumpy character with a past marked by the incident and lifelong bullying, has found a way to cope in this universe. As a result, he has given up on the idea of taking over the kingdom.

Since Cedric doesn’t attempt to steal the amulet, the events of "Once Upon a Princess" don't unfold as they should. Because no one at the party freezes, Sofia never connects with Amber, who continues to torment her, resentful that the castle staff seems to prefer Sofia.

This rejection fuels Sofia's resentment towards her new family; she refuses to call Amber "sister" and rejects referring to Roland as "dad." The only member of the royal family with whom she has a decent relationship is James, who has tried to support her in adapting to Royal Prep.

Despite everything, Sofia remains a sweet and kind person to everyone who isn’t royalty—a group she has come to despise due to the endless rules and expectations they imposed on her.

The Amulet of Avalor hasn’t been able to help her in this universe because, as a result of her bad behavior, it frequently punished her and eventually, she decided to take it off. After all, Sofia sees no problem in breaking the promise she made to King Roland, who has done little to stop Amber's teasing.

After all the teasing she has received since arriving, Sofia refuses to adhere to the protocols and rules as a form of rebellion to show her discontent. She refuses to wear her tiara or any other kind of jewelry, deliberately messes up her hair, and doesn’t care about maintaining her dress. She believes this is a way to annoy King Roland and Amber, breaking with the perfection that she believes is expected of her.

The friendship of Sofia and Cedric

Sofia is still interested in magic, which leads her to meet Cedric and become his apprentice, as in the original storyline. However, this Sofia soon realizes how King Roland and others treat Cedric. Since she is also rejected by the Royals, she identifies with him.

Cedric, on the other hand, sees part of his own story reflected in the young princess, leading him to care for her and try to advise her so she doesn’t end up like him.

Their friendship works somewhat in reverse.

1. Sofia tries to steer Cedric toward villainy:

After a year in the palace with no improvement in her situation, Sofia is determined to ruin the King and Amber. After learning a bit about Cedric’s past through Baileywick, she comes up with the idea that they could both seek revenge.

Sofia wants revenge for how Amber and other Royals have treated her because of her commoner origins and believes Cedric should do the same for the years of mockery and humiliation he has endured.

However, Cedric isn’t interested, having left villainy behind after a failed attempt in his youth. Though Sofia constantly tempts him with childish ideas to annoy the King, Cedric realizes this wouldn’t get them anywhere, especially Sofia.

2. Cedric tries to help Sofia with her family situation:

Cedric enjoys helping Sofia annoy Amber and other princesses at Royal Prep with spells and poorly enchanted objects, thinking it helps her cope with her tough life. However, one night he overhears a conversation between Queen Miranda and Sofia he realizes that these "revenge" schemes are only hurting Sofia more than anyone else.

Cedric reflects on where this path is leading her, imagining a future where Sofia is rejected and excluded like him. Determined to prevent that outcome, Cedric starts helping Sofia adapt to palace life as best he can.

With Baileywick’s help, Cedric teaches Sofia some of the etiquette she had previously refused to learn, while Sofia helps him overcome his fear of performing spells in front of others. This process is healing for both of them; they support each other in improving their relationships with others in the palace.

Together, they face setbacks and celebrate small victories, working side by side to change their lives. Essentially, they both try to improve their lives together.

And that's basically it. I just wanted an excuse for Sofia to act a little more like a mischievous child and Cedric as a concerned adult. Although Cedric joins in on her antics sometimes.

In the same way, I have written a little fic where Cedric teaches the Sofia of this universe to dance:

That's all! Have a nice AntiC*dfia week everyone!

[eggymf-archived]

no place like home;

ft. garreth weasley with f!reader/mc (one-shot)

themes: hurt to comfort, angst to fluff, established relationship, aged-up characters, post-hogwarts, fiance!garreth, ex!dark!mc, slytherin!mc, 3rd person pov

warning: two idiots in love arguing, mc being the bigger idiot for once, implied traumatic events, implied violence, not spoiler-free, get a load of this sap

summary: she couldn't bear to make him suffer with every horrific danger that constantly chases her, hence she decides to run away one rainy summer night.

word count: 3.2k

a/n: happy weasley wednesday! this is my first entry and fic of garreth actually. i’ve decided to frankenstein the [lyric prompts] sent by @applinsandoranges​​ a while back along with the weekly prompt for weasley wednesday, “wet”. also, if you have read these two smut oneshots (pt.1 and pt.2), this fic features the same mc (just older). that aside, enjoy? :D

main masterlist || series masterlist || AO3

bonus: audio

It was during the summer of 1892 — the year when they finally graduated from Hogwarts. 

She never expected to be given the privilege of spending the summer after her 7th year with Garreth. It was undoubtedly what she truly needed: an opportunity to escape from the utter chaos of the life she has within her own family home in London: specifically her father's seething wrath after that stunt she had pulled, which almost destroyed their own family’s stellar reputation within the wizarding world's pureblood society. 

Family drama aside, not only was it the perfect time for her to rest and recuperate, but it was also the chance for her to contemplate the future now that she has broken free from the shackles of her responsibility as an heiress (temporarily, that is). Perhaps in the midst of it all, she could also make amends for her past wrongdoings.

Oh, but [what on Earth can atone for all the wrong things that she had done]? 

It wasn’t an easy task, to say the least, for the blood that was spilled on her hands all in the name of the greater good has long stained her psyche. There was an insurmountable amount of filth that resides within her as the vessel of accumulated pain, and all she could do was endure the ordeal. The moment she had made that dire decision in the repository during her 5th year, she was doomed to a life of loneliness, but all of that changed during her 7th year when the threads of her own fate were intertwined with his.

She never would've expected that Garreth Weasley out of all people would serve as the beacon that would lead her back to all that had been long forgotten — her own happiness. 

Truth be told, she wasn't the most forthcoming with the notion of romance in general due to her unsavory experiences and personal issues, opting to steer clear of the entire topic in general. In fact, she was better off alone, but for some miraculous reason, the fiery-haired male had managed to creep into her heart, taking his rightful seat on its long-abandoned throne. It was truly a mysterious outcome, for nobody would've foreseen the unusual relationship to even happen, much less prosper.  

A Slytherin and a Gryffindor; the celebrated hero and an aspiring potioneer. They were like day and night; the sun and the moon — ever so different, yet fell in love too soon. Perhaps the irony of it all was what truly brought the both of them together, regardless of all their atrocities, differences, and follies combined. 

But even the greatest of love stories always had their own fair share of trials and tribulations, and the silly, dramatic little tale of her and Garreth weren't an exception. She remembered it all vividly: the times when she'd discourage him from pursuing her, only for her to fall harder and harder for him in the end.

“You'll never know peace a day in your life once you decide to be with me, Weasley.”

“I'm not good for anyone, lest you want a head full of gray hairs before you reach the age of forty.”

“You're better off without me, I assure you.”

“Garreth, please don't. I'll ruin your life.”

Yet her words, no matter how grim, threatening, or incessant, would always be met with his adorably goofy little grin along with the same simple reply that held the undying promise of his devotion and loyalty.

“I know.”

If only things were that simple.

From this moment onwards, ["I know" is never good enough] — not when she's aware of the dire consequences that would soon follow should she decide to pursue the yearnings of her poor, naïve heart. It was too huge a risk to gamble the life of the man who had brought her solace and joy amidst the pandemonium that rages within her blackened soul, for he was all she had left — the only person who would never treat her as a pawn across the chessboard; her most trusted confidant, companion, and lover: her chosen family.  

The musical incantation of Vulnera Sanentur from his Aunt Matilda's lips was all that she heard whilst she silently wallowed in her own thoughts of self-blame, her eyes darting around the damaged parts of their humble abode out of pure guilt. She glances at Garreth's father, who winces as several hands aided him to sit more comfortably on the sofa. His younger sister and older cousins scampered around to repair the several damages within the house whilst checking up on the others after the incident.

It was an ambush by dark wizards: the ones who sought to covet the corrupted power within her. Despite her not being a family member of the Weasleys, they fought gallantly alongside her, defending her as if she was one of their own. Although they are well capable of empathizing and understanding her prior violent display of magic within the heat of battle, it did not quell the bubbling shame that stews within her being. 

It was almost the norm for her to be targeted by the enemies that she had made in her past battles, but to be attacked while she was in Garreth's family home? To put the Weasleys in danger? Preposterous. Utterly preposterous. She'd never forgive her enemies for it. Hell, she'd never forgive herself for it either. 

The warmth of Garreth's palm on her arm startled her from her train of thought whilst she was in the middle of repairing the broken walls, offering her a kiss on her forehead the moment her head turned. 

“Garreth…” her voice, uncharacteristically small and hesitant, trails off while he cups her cheek, tracing his thumb over her delicate face as a form of reassurance.

“It’s not your fault, so please don’t think about it too much, alright? We’ll handle it from here,” he reassures.

Despite her evident disagreement with her fiancé's words, she bit her tongue, not wishing to add any more fuel to the fire. She gave the Weasleys one final glance as she headed to the kitchen to help his mother prepare their dinner for tonight while the others focused on either healing their mild injuries or fixing the damages within their house.

The Weasleys were a beautiful family. It was the ideal family that she would truly love to be a part of in a heartbeat: they were kind-hearted, selfless, and honorable, never swayed by the adversaries that came their way. It was for this very reason that she decided to protect them with all that she has, and she would never allow a single soul to harm even the hairs on their head even if it means that she has to bring herself out of the picture in the end.

Thus, she has made her final decision. 

[She's only safe when she's alone], just as they'd be a whole lot safer without her presence. She could easily slaughter anyone who stood in her way without fear of disappointing anyone with her ruthlessness, and none of her loved ones would be used as ammunition to make her submit to her enemies’ bidding. This painful choice was truly for the best — such as the fate of all fallen “heroes” who walk a lonely, dark path.

Yet despite all the danger he'd have to face and the sought-after coalesced filth of humanity that literally resides within her, her departure was Garreth’s greatest fear.

It was on the same day of the incident that he received the heartbreaking news in the middle of that particular rainy night. His sister was about to pay her a visit for their usual heart-to-heart session, only to find out that she was no longer in their home.

“Gone? What do you mean she’s gone?!” he bellowed, fear lacing his voice as he sped towards the guest room with soft footsteps trailing after him.

“Garreth, I'm sorry. I went to her room and—”

Not giving his younger sister a chance to finish, Garreth barged into the guest room with evident panic, only for his heart to sink at the sight of a room that was entirely bare of her belongings except for a note that she had hurriedly scrawled before she left.

I'm sorry. I love you.

Garreth quickly ran down the flight of stairs and straight to the exit of their home. The shouts and cries of his name fell on deaf ears as he bolted out of the house, racing into the chilly night with a million panicked thoughts buzzing unpleasantly within his head as raindrops drizzled upon his form.

[She had his heart, and he could only hope that she wouldn't hurt him] permanently with one measly written goodbye. He was angry and dismayed with her drastic decisions that lacked his consultation, but he simply couldn't allow all that they'd built to just disintegrate in a blink of an eye. She was, after all, his dearly beloved — the person he'd give his all without a second thought.

As soon as the thunder rumbled, he hurriedly took out the piece of parchment that she had left, casting a tracking charm with his wand. The piece of paper immediately bursts forward, leaving a trail of glittering golden dust for him to follow before the increasingly damp piece of parchment falls to the ground. The spell worked, and it only meant that she hadn't wandered off too far.

He knew exactly where she was from where the trail was heading. With the location clearly visualized within his mind, he apparates to their usual spot, hoping that she was still within the particular vicinity.

Needless to say, he was right.

There she stood in front of the tree where they often frequented for their usual picnics — the place where it's usually just the two of them, gazing upon the meadows of the countryside whilst enjoying the summer breeze. She looks upon the ring that was on her left hand, admiring the ruby and two small diamonds that glimmered under the moonlight. With great reluctance, she attempts to slide her engagement ring off, intending to keep it within their box of little keepsakes before she leaves, which was contained within the tree's hollow.

Amidst the soothing pitter-patter of raindrops, the sound of an audible crack was soon heard from a distance followed by several thuds of footsteps, effectively stopping her. She whips her head in the direction of the sudden noise, only for her eyes to meet a pair of emerald-green orbs. 

[Sometimes, she forgets that she was his] — he'd always find her wherever she may be simply because he knew her that well. She should've expected that he'd figure out her whereabouts within minutes after she had left the Weasley family home. He was, after all, her dearly beloved — the keeper of her heart; the one who knows her better than herself.

“Blast, I shouldn't have loitered around…” she thought ruefully as she faced him completely, a shaky breath escaping her lips as she braced herself for an earful. Instead, he runs towards her with a relieved expression, pulling her into his embrace before kissing her fervently. 

As if it were right on cue, the rain began to pour harder, just like those dramatic little romance novels written by Muggle authors. His touch, although scorching against her cold, damp skin, brought relief to her mind, body, and soul. 

It was only he could bring her such solace, nobody else.

As soon as his lips parted from hers, he grabbed her bag nearby before turning to her direction once again with a tired sigh. Before she could retaliate, he swung his arm around her, engulfing her in his arms before apparating back to his home — specifically into the living room, where the rest of the family was awaiting their return. A blush crept up to her cheeks upon feeling their eyes on her and Garreth, who held her by her waist. The both of them were soaked to the bone with their clothes and strands of their hair clinging uncomfortably onto their skin.

Wordlessly, Garreth set her bag on the ground before flicking the tip of his wand at both of them, casting a drying spell before making his way to the kitchen. She winced at his deathly silence, while the others glanced at each other with an evident grimace as well.

“... Alright, you lot! Off to bed, we go. Come along now!” his mother urges, pushing the other family members right towards the staircase, much to his younger sister's and cousins' chagrin.

“But mum—!”

“Shhh!”

She received several apologetic looks and pats of good luck from his cousins, for she was obviously going to need it. Garreth was upset — abysmally upset to be precise. It was a rare occurrence, but whenever it happens, it was a painful punch to the gut.

Silence looms over the living room, the thumping of footsteps dying out as they scamper to their bedrooms, leaving her and Garreth alone on the first floor of their home.

“Garreth…”

Silence.

“Garreth, please say something?” she pleads, all to no avail. He remains tight-lipped, averting his gaze from her as he grabs the nearby teapot to pour each of them a cup of tea.

She hated it when he was like this, but his reticence was definitely warranted. She sighs in defeat, finally deciding to stop beating about the bush.

“... The attack from earlier—”

“—Was, again, not your fault. And you ran away because you didn't want any of us to get hurt. I know that,” he cuts her off bitterly before he sips his cup of tea in hopes of calming himself down. 

“Then you're aware of the dangers, Garreth. You've seen what they're capable of. You've experienced it for yourself.”

“Yes. So?”

“So why did you bring me back? You know that chaos ensues whenever I'm around, and it's never the good kind.”

“Really, now? Seems like a pretty peaceful night to me until you decided to leave,” he sarcastically snapped, much to her exasperation.

“Garreth, for god's sake—”

He slams his cup on the countertop, nearly shattering the object. His frown deepened, finally looking at her with a glare.

“A note with no explanations? Sneaking out right under my nose? Is that how trivial our relationship is to you?” he asks with a tone mixed with anger and hurt. She visibly pales at this, panic evident within her eyes that he would even think of such a thing.

“Garreth that's not—”

“—what you meant? Oh, believe me, I know. But it certainly feels that way and it's really upsetting. I'm not mad though. I could never be mad at you, but I'm sick and tired of you pushing me away at every bloody inconvenience!”

“I'm doing this for your sake! As long as I'm around, you and your family will always be—”

“I didn't ask you to play hero for us!”

“So you'd rather thoughtlessly sacrifice everyone else just to keep me around?!”

“YOU'RE MY FIANCEE FOR GODRIC'S SAKE!” 

She was stunned into silence by his raging outburst, all retaliations within her head immediately disappearing as he ran his mouth, pouring out every single trace of frustration that had accumulated within his chest.

“Don't you know you're just as important as everyone else in here?! I know what I signed up for — mum knows, dad knows, my little sister knows, every single relative knows! You're already a part of this family at this point!” he continues exasperatedly, running his fingers through his hair out of sheer agitation. “Gods, you’re always like this! I hate that you feel the need to constantly tell me I shouldn’t be with you! I’m still here, aren’t I? Is that not enough for you?!”

She looks away, letting out a shaky exhale while she clenches her fists, her eyes becoming glassy with tears. His heart was thumping loudly, his chest heaving as his emotional hurt slowly descended from its peak. His glare soon faltered the moment he realized the aggression of his words, his fiery anger slowly dissipating as he stared at her with guilt simmering within his gut. Her eyes were downcast while she chewed on her lip, desperately keeping her emotions under wraps while placing her arms gingerly around herself to soothe her nerves.

With an aggravated sigh, he gently pulled her into a warm embrace. She whimpers at his display of tenderness despite the prior exchange of heated words, finally letting her tears run free as she wraps her arms around his waist, a string of apologies pouring out from her lips. He pressed his lips at the side of her head before parting from her as he cupped her face with both of his hands.

“Darling, listen to me. Look at me.”

She acquiesced, her bleary sight slowly trailing up to meet his verdant-hued eyes, which gazed upon her with pure love and adoration despite his recent display of anger. 

“I know I may not be the best man for you, but you best believe that I'll do whatever I can to keep you safe. When I swore to you that I'll accompany you to the ends of the earth, I meant every single word,” he whispers with heartfelt sincerity, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb. “But all I ask of you is to please have a bit of faith in me; in us — that we’ll manage all of this just fine. Please, I love you too much to let you go...”

“But… Your family…” she meekly sobs.

“Then we'll live alone together, just the two of us.”

“But what about you?”

“Then I'll be stronger for you! Hell, I'll beg Sallow to teach me how to duel better if I have to so please…” he begs, his voice cracking. 

“Don't ever leave again. Stay with me until the very end.”

At that moment, she finally caves into her heart's desire, standing on her tiptoes to urgently plant her lips on his without hesitation while his hand flew to the small of her back, the other placing itself at the back of her head to press her further into him. After what seemed like an eternity, they finally parted, gazing at each other's eyes with a smile of relief etched onto their faces. A surprised yelp escaped her lips as he scoops her up into a bridal carry, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

“Well then, now that's done and settled, let's get you to bed, shall we?” he grins, his anger completely appeased by her response.

“At least let me bring my bag upstairs first, love. I need my clothes,” she laughs.

“Clothes? For what?”

“...To change in?”

“Oh, trust me. You won't be needing them tonight,” his voice drops into a teasing whisper. 

Her eyes widened, warmth creeping to her cheeks at his insinuation. He chuckled at her reaction, planting a kiss on her cheek before heading upstairs with her in his arms. The tense aura that loomed over the entire building was now completely gone, her soft giggles of sheer elation filling the halls before a peaceful silence ensued the moment the door to her room was closed shut.

Like the moon and stars that reside in the night skies, this was where she truly belongs — right in the arms of her dearly beloved; her most cherished abode.

[racingliners]

5 + sebchal 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hi!!! Sorry this took all day, I don't know how to write short things. Hope you enjoy! 💚

sebchal + "I guess you are right" - send me a prompt!

Charles had changed his mind no less than fifty times about whether or not he should have simply flown to Switzerland instead of driving all the way up from Monaco. He’d already spent a good sleepless night before he left weighing up the pros and cons – flying would definitely have gotten the whole thing over with whatever the outcome, but driving through the French countryside and most of Switzerland gave Charles the most time to try and prepare a speech.

(The quickest way would have been to drive to Milan and then go North, but Charles wanted all the extra seconds the universe could spare him).

He’d spent the night at a hotel in Geneva that he couldn’t remember anything about other than the luxury setting and soft sheets, Charles still wasn’t able to think about much other than his destination.

He and Seb still exchanged Christmas cards, and Charles cherished every single one, which was why he thankfully didn’t have to ask Mia to ask Britta for Sebastian’s address. Something that would have added an extra layer of embarrassment to what Charles was about to do, maybe to the point of talking himself out of it, but he was glad that the irrational part of his mind was still winning out as he threw his weekend bag into the boot of his car (not his custom Ferrari, but a rental white Audi. He wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible).

Charles had expected the weather to be nicer for the second week of August, but instead the air was cool and the sky a barely there grey as he set off on the next leg of his journey.

He didn’t realise that he was in love with Sebastian until their last race as teammates, and every day since he’d kept his feelings buried so deep down there would be moments Charles would almost forget they were there. But then he’d see an Aston Martin drive past him, or a butterfly hovering on a flower and they would come back to the surface almost ten time stronger.

And now that Sebastian only had nine races left in his F1 career, for better or worse Charles decided he had to go to Switzerland to finally tell him how he felt.

The sky darkened the further into Switzerland Charles drove, and by the time he was 20 kilometres past Bern thick heavy raindrops started to batter the windscreen. He briefly considered pulling over at a service station but there was a small fire in his chest telling him to keep going, to keep driving.

Even in the pouring rain, Switzerland was beautiful. The deep green forests, the towering mountains that put the ones in Monaco to shame, the deep blue lakes that looked so much like Sebastian’s eyes it was borderline unnerving. Charles knew from the handful of pictures Seb had shown him over the years why Seb called the country home. There was a split second where Charles felt like he might be able to call it home too, but he gripped his hands tighter round the steering wheel to snap himself out of it.

As the pit of his stomach kept telling him, there was no guarantee Sebastian would now or ever love Charles back.

He allowed himself ten minutes at a service station just outside Lucerne for an espresso and a pep talk. After all, how hard would it really be to tell an ex-teammate that Charles was so in love with him he felt like bursting into flames if they were stood too close together.

Back in the driver’s seat, Charles gently brushed his hands down his navy button up shirt before resting them in his lap, allowing himself one deep breath before starting the car again, and driving away.

The closer he got to Sebastian’s house the more his throat seemed to tighten, to the point where he almost couldn’t breathe when Charles finally turned off the motorway and the satnav told him he would be at his destination in five short kilometres.

At some point the intensity of the rain had decreased to a light drizzle, Charles barely noticed it as he stepped out of the car but that might have been because he was fixated on the very unassuming front door to Sebastian’s house.

It was a dark wood with black metal fixtures screwed into it, and a tiny square glass window near the top. Charles was tall enough to look through it but he couldn’t see anything, as the rain started to fall heavier once more.

His whole mouth felt dry to the point he wasn’t sure if he would be able to get a word out let alone a sentence, and he realised that he’d left his coat in the car but he couldn’t turn and get it now when he was so close. Instead Charles slowly curled his right hand into a fist, and he knocked his knuckles against the wood three times.

All Charles could hear was the sound of the rain hitting the ground.

What was he thinking?! He should have called first, or at least texted Seb back in Lucerne to see if he was at home. For all Charles’ luck Sebastian was back in Heppenheim visiting his family and friends, or on holiday somewhere with someone that wasn’t Charles.

Why did he drive all this way in the hope that Sebastian already loved him in return?

Charles forced down a large gulp and bit down on his lip as he took two small steps away from the door. He didn’t want to leave, but maybe he had to. Maybe he would be better off letting his dreams of Sebastian go, maybe it would be easier this way.

He had just moved his left foot to turn himself round when the door opened.

“Charles?” And there Seb was, his gorgeous blue eyes wide as he looked Charles up and down in complete disbelief.

“Seb.” Charles said his name with a sigh of relief and a bright smile. He was right there, barely two metres away. If Charles tried hard enough he could probably smell Seb’s aftershave alongside the rain.

“What are you doing here?” “I love you.”

They both said at the exact same time, their faces fell mirroring each other perfectly.

“I’m sorry.” Charles said quickly. “I didn’t… I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I had to tell you before you left.”

Seb’s eyes glanced past Charles at the Audi with its French licence plate, and quickly put two and two together.

“You…” The hand that had been rested against the door frame fell to Seb’s side. He was wearing a light grey crewneck that Charles was sure he’d seen Seb wear on multiple factory visits to Maranello paired with dark jeans and navy socks. “You drove all the way here?”

“I know it’s stupid.” Charles wasn’t sure if he was speaking about his feelings or his life choices. “I couldn’t tell you over the phone, I wanted to see you before Spa because if I don’t tell you now I don’t think I ever will. Because in time I’ll be able to live with not winning the title this year but I not if I say goodbye to you without you knowing how I feel.” The words tumbled out of his mouth almost as fast as the rain was falling from the sky. Charles briefly panted to regain his breath while his heart continued to hammer against his ribcage. He was soaked through now, but he didn’t care. He already knew that Seb turning him down would be worse. Clothes could dry but broken hearts were always harder to fix.

Sebastian blinked slowly, not once had his eyes left Charles’ face since he clocked the rental car parked in his driveway. His eyes were still wide, they looked like an ocean Charles would happily down in.

It was only when Charles realised that Seb still hadn’t said anything at all, that he opened his moth to start forming an apology, only to be cut off by Sebastian lurching forwards to cup his warm hands around Charles’ jaw as he tilted his head down to kiss him.

It was a fairly chaste kiss, but it was more than enough.

“You need to get inside.” Seb said quickly after he pulled away, his eyes darted all over Charles sodden clothes. “You should have worn a coat!”

Charles’ head now felt so light he had to grip onto Seb’s forearms out of fear he was about to float away.

“I guess you are right.” He said with a lazy smile, and he let Sebastian pull him inside the warm house. “I have a bag in the car-” Charles said as Sebastian shut the door behind them.

“Later.” Seb said firmly, pulling Charles in for a longer, deeper kiss.

[hunterbunter3000]

I love the first meeting between Kruger and Sweetheart. How about the first meeting between Sweetheart and Alejandro and Rudy 👀

I'm so glad you liked it! ♡ this one is a bit longer I think than the last one

Warnings: blood, violence, gore, details of weapons, very tiny cod gun lore in there (if you notice it, I love you)

When Alejandro and Rodolfo met Sweetheart, they didn't think she would look like that. They thought that a person with the name 'Sweetheart' would be a medic, or maybe an assistant. Not a strikingly tall woman who looks like she can stomp your head in and go shopping for new shoes at the same time.

'It's nice to finally meet you both' she said to them, her regal like voice ringing in Rudy's ears. He had to stop himself from trembling. Alejandro grinned at her, telling her the same. 'It's nice to meet you as well, ma'am. I've heard alot about you.'

Of course he has. Her capitan and sergeant squawked non-stop about her when they met up with Los Vaqueros for the mission. She's well liked around her unit.

She's kind.

She's funny.

Thoughtful.

Playful.

Beautiful.

All good words complimented the woman with great expectations. The expectations were met tenfold to Alejandro.

You're staring too long at her. Snap out of it.

He walked Ghost, Soap and Sweetheart to the car they were taking for the travel, opening the door for Sweetheart. She chuckled at that. 'Such a gentleman.' She said. Alejandro's chest bursts with pride. 'Have to make a good first impression, estimado.' He says with such a flirty undertone, the other three men frown at him.

Don't step out of line, Alejandro. The outcome won't be good.

Her team followed suit in other cars. Rudy was the driver, fingers flexing on the steering wheel out of nerves. He wanted to pull over. He felt too lightheaded from her sweet scent swirling in the cramped car. Wanting to caress her arms while resting on her bosom, melting into her warm touch as they lay next to a fire. His fantasy took over his reality for too long as they already made it to their destination. Rudy breathes out when he gets out the car. He feels warm hand on his shoulder.

Sweetheart.

"You okay?" She asks, concern written on her face. Her beautiful, pretty face. And pretty lips.

He clears his throat. "I'm alright, flor-- I mean- ma'am! I- I meant ma'am." His cheeks flush with embarrassment as she giggles.

Such a pretty smile.

Alejandro was listening, unintentionally but there anyway.

Such a pretty laugh.

The day swirled into a blur, the soldiers already in the works of war. Bullets going off, bodies falling down, and Sweetheart carrying her weight. Alejandro and Rodolfo can't lie when they see Sweetheart actually fighting her way through the enemies like they were butter. Weilding a Remington 870 MCS breaching with 10" barrel, she goes ahead of them and blasts the heads off like balloons. She called it her 'fallen angel' when she was cleaning it at the base.

The blood splatters on her smooth skin, the sharp narrowing of her dark, focused eyes and her black curls now unraveled; she looks more like a warrior than a soldier. As she moves like a raging spirit in the wind, the bodies fall one by one in a mutilated mess.

"Mierda..." Rudy mumbles, hand covering his mouth. Her team seems to be used to this, staying behind and letting her do her thing with awestruck eyes.

She walks in their blood, mocking their loss as she stands over the terrified target.

"Target secured." She lowly says in the comms, picking up the stunned target by the collar like a wet cat. She walks by her team and other units, some stumbling back to get out of her way. Rudy and Alejandro part like the Red Sea, eyes glued on her figure. She's so much more, way much more than being kind and playful.

She's ruthless.

She's intimidating.

Skilled.

Scary.

Beautiful.

[thatdarkfanficstuff]

Flutter - Chapter Three

Pairing: Mafia Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: a smack in the face

A/N: a bit short but I'm so happy with it I'm posting as is.

To say that Steve’s thoughts had once again turned to you would be misleading. The truth was he had thought of little other than you since you walked into his office. You were supposed to be meeting at the end of the month to write an official contract for your betrothal, and eventual marriage, to Roman. A prospect Steve was looking less forward to with every passing day. He pursed his lips and tapped his fingers on the desk in an impatient rhythm as he made a decision he'd been stewing over for days. He needed to make a call.

His touch moved over the screen of his phone in practiced familiarity to pull up Tony’s number.

“Stark,” came the terse greeting.

“Tony,” Steve returned, his voice low and coaxing. “I have a request for you. In fact, let’s call it a proposition.”

Silence stretched taut, filled with suspicion.

“Go on,” Tony prompted after a beat.

“I think the kids should get to know one another. I would hate for them to enter a marriage with no idea what they’re getting into.” Steve sounded so reasonable one could almost forget the engagement was all his idea in the first place. “What better way for them to get acquainted than the lovely Ms. Stark moving in here. She can learn the lay of the land so to speak.”

“Are you out of your mind, Rogers?” Tony snapped. “You expect me to just hand her over with no protections? No guarantees?”

“That makes it sound like you don’t trust me, Tony. That hurts. It really does.” Steve allowed himself the smirk that played at the edge of lips.

Stark snorted in disbelief. “I trust you as much as you trust me.”

Steve sucked in a breath. He had one play to make and he could only hope it didn’t backfire spectacularly. “Ask her.”

There was a pause, Tony likely weighing his options and possible outcomes. “Fine. I’ll call you back.”

Steve waited less than five minutes for the return call though it felt like an hour. What if he’d misread the attraction, the heat between the two of you? “Yes?”

“If anything happens to her—”

Relief flooded through him. “Nothing will happen to her, Stark,” Steve interrupted. “She’ll be under my personal care.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Tony’s voice was heavy with fatigue and Steve wondered what exactly his conversation with you had entailed.

“Careful, Stark, or I’ll start to take offense.” Anticipation hummed through Steve’s veins as he ended the call. It promised something potent, something thrilling. Things were about to get far more interesting in the Rogers’ household.

***

Your sleek black car rolled to a stop outside Rogers’ house. As you stepped out, you flicked your eyes over the impressive façade taking a moment to appreciate it as you hadn’t the last time you were here. The door swung open, drawing your attention. You weren’t entirely surprised to see Steve framed in the opening in all his imposing glory. His eyes locked onto yours with a predatory gleam that had your heart skipping a beat.

“Welcome,” he greeted as you approached. His shirt outlined his muscled frame when he leaned forward to take the bag from your grip. He stepped closer, close enough for you to breathe in the heady scent of him. His fingers brushed yours as his hand wrapped around the handle of your bag. The touch was fleeting but electric, sparks zipping through your veins. “Allow me,” Steve murmured as he took the bag.

He gestured to your car and two men stepped out behind him to retrieve the rest of your things. He placed a hand on your back and steered you into the house. Roman Carter stood at the foot of the stairs, a leer contorting his features as he looked you over from head to toe. You lifted a brow and returned the gesture. You weren’t even remotely impressed.

Steve’s fingers flexed against your back as he passed your bag off to another minion. “Roman, come meet our guest.”

Roman took your hand in his as Steve made the formal introductions. He kissed the back of it and kept hold of it as he straightened to give you another smarmy sneer. “You’re welcome to stay in my room. We could get in some practice for the wedding night.”

The crack of Steve’s hand against Roman’s cheek echoed through the foyer. The action was so quick and unexpected you wondered for a beat if you’d imagined it. But Roman’s head snapped to the side and he dropped your hand. The red imprint of Steve’s fingers flared against his step-son’s skin confirming the reality of the situation.

“Have some respect,” Steve growled, voice low and dangerous. “She’s to be your wife, not your plaything.”

You stood still, your expression neutral. Roman hadn’t pissed you off enough yet for you to smirk at his misfortune. And you refused to let Steve see how his defensiveness on your behalf stirred something within you. It was entirely inappropriate.

Roman turned his glare to you, his eyes burning with rage as if you had encouraged his humiliation. As if his own stupid mouth wasn’t to blame. When you said nothing, he spun on his heel and stormed away, deeper into the house.

Everyone else seemed to have disappeared as well, leaving you alone with Steve. The ghost of a smile tugged the corner of his mouth. “Let’s not let that spoil our day, shall we?” His tone was light, playful, and a mischievous sparkle lit his eyes.

His hand once again found the small of your back as he guided you up the stairs and down the long hall. The plush carpet muffled your steps, but nothing could quiet the pounding of your heart. Gods, what was wrong with you? You needed to get this insane attraction under control.

“Here we are.” Steve’s voice cut into your thoughts. He pushed open the door to show a large room, elegantly decorated. He allowed you to move past him only to lean in, his lips a breath away from your ear. “What do you think?”

You suppressed a shudder as you stepped over to the large window to take in the view. “It’s lovely.”

Without missing a beat, he came up behind you to place his hands on the window on either side of you, boxing you in. He bent his head and breathed deeply before tracing the line of your neck with his nose. “I’ve found myself rather partial to this view myself lately.”

Your breath hitched and your eyes slipped closed. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Is that so?” Your words were far breathier than you’d given them permission to be.

Steve chuckled before humming in agreement. Taking mercy on you, he stepped back. You licked your lips as you turned to face him. “Maybe you’d allow me to see more of it later?”

You studied him for a moment, wondering what his intentions were. Surely, he didn’t go around seducing all of Roman’s women. You would have heard about it by now. “I’m sure you have a lovely view from your own room.”

He pursed his lips and rocked back on his heels. “That’s a rather lonely vista actually.” He reached out and traced a finger along the side of your neck. The touch was light but it burned, searing through your defenses. His skin against yours felt like a promise, a whisper of dark nights and twisted sheets.

He grinned then, as if he’d found the answer to an unasked question. As if he could see every secret thought you’d had about him and those hands. Without another word, he was moving away, steps assured, the king of his domain. But that grin lingered in the air, a challenge left hanging.

As he left the room, you were left standing there with your fingers pressed lightly where his had been. The cool absence of his touch a startling contrast to the heat he’d roused. And you were oh so ready to burn.

[lurkingshan]

Be My Favorite and Accepting the Things We Cannot Change

Several weeks back, @shortpplfedup posited that Be My Favorite’s core theme really comes down to the Serenity Prayer:

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,  The courage to change the things I cannot accept,  And the wisdom to know the difference

Having now seen the finale and the full arc of the show, I have to declare her the most correct of clowns, because she nailed it. This finale was all about Pisaeng’s journey to accepting that he can’t control the outcome of Kawi’s illness in the future, and that ultimately, he doesn’t want to change the beautiful life they’ve had together on the off chance it might make a difference. 

I love the way this played out in the new temporary present (I am going to miss finding awkward ways to accurately describe what timeline we are in). When Pisaeng travels back in time to the night before they went to the amusement park, Kawi clocks it immediately, but waits for Pisaeng to fess up that he had time traveled back from the future, and why. Once everything is out in the open, we see a sense of calm come over Kawi as he begins gently guiding Pisaeng to what he has already learned: they can’t control it, and the best thing they can do is commit to enjoying the life they have together here and now. And so Kawi and Pisaeng put a pin in it and have a great day together at the amusement park, reveling in each other’s company and committing to the joy of being in each others’ presence. At the end of the day, Pisaeng admits that even though he’s scared, he wouldn’t want to change anything about their life together or risk losing what they have for the off chance that it could lead to a better outcome, and he goes back home to the uncertain future so he and his future Kawi can face it together, hand in hand. 

I absolutely loved the melancholy undertone to these first three parts of the episode and the poignancy of this message. While Pisaeng struggled, Kawi’s character growth was on full display as he settled into the wisdom he has earned over many timelines and failed attempts to control things he now knows he cannot change. Once he was the one on the outside of the time travel dilemma, he reached full clarity on how futile it all was, and how little would be accomplished by attempting to engineer a different trajectory that might save his life at the expense of his relationship with Pisaeng. And he has achieved a measure of peace and reached a level of confidence and comfort with Pisaeng that enabled him to guide his partner to the same conclusion. It was lovely to see, and felt very well earned. The themes in this section of the episode were so strong that they actually had me thinking they might go there and not give Kawi an explicit recovery and happily ever after. But they quickly changed tack once Pisaeng traveled back to the future in the final part of the episode.

Now, here is the part where I admit that I would have preferred a more nuanced final act rather than Kawi suddenly waking up fine and everything being peaceful from there. There was an opportunity here for a more thematically resonant ending, and the show chose to steer away from it to give us a standard joyful bl epilogue. An ending where Kawi does not fully recover or where his fate is left more open-ended would have really made the poignancy of their choice to stop trying to change things land more firmly. Something more in the mode of Bad Buddy’s somewhat happy ending with a bittersweet edge would have also felt right. That said, this is a bl drama and I can’t really be surprised that it stuck with genre conventions. It was a lovely ending for Kawi and Pisaeng and it was very nice to see them happy together after all the turmoil.

So where did I land on this show overall? I really liked it, and given that I came in with such low expectations, the fact that it ended up being a show I consistently looked forward to week after week is no small thing. This drama gave me a lot to think about and inspired such wonderful discussions with friends, not to mention more clown theories than I could ever hope to track. It also gave me the opportunity to see both Gawin and Krist in a new light—I was really impressed with both of them in this drama and I hope to see Gawin especially continuing to get lead roles. 

I don’t think this drama was perfect, however. At the time episode 10 aired I had some issues with the resolutions it put forward for the main timeline, and those criticisms stand. I wish it had done more with all the meaty stuff it set up with queer politics, Pisaeng’s mom’s hypocrisy in positioning herself as a queer ally while forcing her own son into the closet, and Max’s role as a queer activist who was her fan. There was so much story potential there, but it seems the show just had other priorities. And I’m still not entirely sure what the point of the Not/Kwan subplot was, given that they didn’t really do anything with it in the final arc of the show. I guess I will just settle for thanking the universe that Pear was marrying a very nice looking man who was not Not (lol) in the finale and be grateful they didn’t subject me to a redemption arc for that mean little man.

As always, it has been an honor clowning with you all, and I’m pleased that we’re ending Be My Favorite on such a good note. Shouts to @waitmyturtles @bengiyo, @thegalwhorants, @twig-tea and @rocketturtle4 for talking through a lot of my reactions to this show with me. On to the next! 

[pricegouge]

ok only tangentially related to ur last ask, but god the amount of ppl in the cod fandom who haven't & have no interest in ever playing the games are soooooo funny. i don't mean this this in a weird, passive aggressiveness or anything like that, (i, too, am in the refuse-to-give-these-demons-money constituency), but just the way a fairly sizeable chunk of the online fandom for cod is now comprised of people who very openly do not give a single fuck about the actual games takes me out every time i think about it

can you imagine going back to like 2015 and telling the g*mergaters that in less than a decade, the call of duty fandom of all things would be overrun by thousands of people (mostly women and The Lgbts) who would happily admit to never having played the games and were in fact only there to chase gameboy tail. but instead of the stereotypical fake gamer girl thing, it's even worse because they're not even doing it to try to fuck the dudes who play the games. they're doing it because they want to fuck GHOST

literally the funniest possible outcome for cod both as a fandom and a franchise. i've had to go on the cod subreddit a few times for research purposes, and pretty much every post i've seen on there has had at least one response that was just a too-much-tiktok girlie pissing everybody off by trying to steer the conversation in the direction of like… könig's dick or something else insane like that. they may be a relatively small minority of the cod fandom, but they are a VOCAL minority, and it is truly a sight to behold. actually obsessed. you & ur fellow fic writers are literally doing god's work by facilitating this behavior. bless u 🫡

always happy to facilitate bad behavior!

maybe i should spend some time on that subreddit, it sounds endlessly entertaining lmao. especially because i'm sure it's rife with the exact kind of guy who would complain about men being held to unrealistic expectations, while holding up a picture of a pile of pixels who's face we can't in fact see and who's well known for mostly keeping his mouth shut

anyway, this is only a little related to your ask but it's kind of a good jumping off point to something that i've noticed in myself so i was wondering how y'all felt about it - personally, i think i've stuck here so long because i refuse to engage with the source media much beyond getting characterization figured out. because of this, the AU brainworms are literally terminal. i'm never not thinking about new worlds i can put them in, worlds i actually care about and situations which aren't perpetuating colonialism. sure this same thing can be said about any source material, but i know a lot of writers feel the same way i do about it and therefore it feels like i'm drinking from a never ending well. here are these same characters i wanna fuck so bad, but every week they're in some brand new Situation and it's just not getting old yet

[korebringerofded]

Changes Part 3- Steddie X Reader

Summary- Steve has gay (and poly) thoughts about Eddie after their kiss.

Will be uploading part 4 soon!

Warnings-Some smut

Thanks everyone for waiting. I have been really sick recently but I hope for part 4 to be long and full of spicy smut!!

I am working on editing and formatting this all together!

Part 1 of this can be found here

Masterlist here

Steve’s knuckles were white as snow as he gripped the wheel, his face burning up from a deep crimson blush that just refused to fade. He was confused and embarrassed and still pretty angry. Eddie abandoned you and broke your heart. Steve wasn’t going to be able to let that go and yet his heart echoed in his chest deafeningly. He hadn’t expected for Eddie to kiss him, let alone the fact that he actually liked it. 

Between the fight and the kiss Steve had never felt more confused. 

“Are we going to talk about this or continue to drive in silence?” Steve mumbled, almost in a daze as he momentarily brushed over his still stinging lips while keeping one on the wheel.

Eddie was unusually quiet, dark eyes staring dead out the window, arms crossed over his chest, his jaw was tight and there was this look on his face, one that Steve struggled desperately to decipher.

“Silence it is, I guess…” Steve sighed.

There was a long uncomfortable pause, Steve keeping his eyes on the road, struggling to keep them away from Eddie. 

“I love (Y/N). I love her more than anything.” Eddie’s leg bounced rapidly as he spoke. “And I know that she loves me the same, even though I have no fucking idea why.” He chuckled. “And I know that you love her too. Honestly it REALLY pissed me off, at least it did at first.” He ran a shaky hand through his tangled hair. 

“I don’t get it,” Steve admitted, eyebrows furrowed.

“Okay, okay.” Eddie sighed. “When I used to jerk off I used to only see (Y/N), only her. But now no matter what I do I end up thinking about you both.” He laughed, eyes staring straight ahead. “Crazy, right?” 

“Oh…” Steve’s eyes widened and his face burned even brighter. “Well, I don’t think it’s that crazy...” He cleared his throat as the seemingly never ending drive came to an end, parking in front of your apartment while the rain fell down around them both, pattering in an ongoing succession.

“What am I going to say to her…She won’t forgive me. I fucked up big time.” Eddie groaned, the fear clawing its way up his throat.

“Just go to her, and be there with her. She is hurting right now. You need to fix that.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, his hair bouncing slightly as he leaned over the steering wheel.

Eddie nodded before silently opening up the car door, the sound of the rain only growing louder as he did, standing in the rain as he stared at Steve for a moment.

“She needs you too, y’know? The way she is with you, the way she smiles. It’s brighter and warmer than anything else.”

—--------------------------

The sight that was on your front porch knocked the air out of your lungs, Eddie and Steve both stood in the doorway, dripping from the rain outside and each with  their own fair share of scrapes. A bruised eye each and busted lips as well as a number of other wounds. 

They both were definitely in rough condition, you almost didn’t want to ask what had happened, partially because you could somewhat guess and you also were so relieved you decided to let it be for now. 

You of course wanted to ask them what had happened but tears quickly welled and overflowed, you couldn’t help but throw your arms around them both. 

You hadn’t seen Eddie for weeks and Steve’s sudden disappearance only sent familiar bolts of fear over your entire body. 

You didn’t want to lose either of them. It was hard to see an outcome where keeping them both in your life was even possible.

“Baby- I’m so sorry that I left you like that.” Eddie mumbled into your hair as he held you close, his voice low and slightly trembling. “I was just confused. I can explain- we can explain everything just please don’t hate me.” Eddies breathing quickened as his hands trembled, holding you close. 

Steve blinked, looking between you and Eddie for a while. The whole world froze for him as he watched the two of you hold each other. He saw your glimmering smile again. 

What more could he really ask for other than your happiness? 

————

“It’s hopeless, Robin.” Steve grumbled, shoving his face into the couch cushion as he groaned. 

“It’s not hopeless!” Robin snorted, tossing a pillow at him.  “You are making this so complicated. You know that Eddie likes you! And he already said (Y/N) has feelings for you! And you have been in love with her for like two years now! It’s as simple as if you liked kissing Eddie Munson.

I don’t see the issue here.” 

“I think I did?” Steve sighed, pressing the pads on his fingers to his stinging lips. “There was a lot more punching than kissing though…so I’m really not sure.” He groaned. 

“Listen, Steve. I think you just need to go over there and tell them both how you really feel.” 

“I don’t even know how I feel…maybe I need another beer.” Steve rubbed the bridge of his nose before pulling himself off the couch and over to the cooler on the side table.

The shitty beer stung as he drank one-two- then three down with ease as he coughed the image of your smiling face, bright and glowing up at him as he pressed the palms of his hands against your perfect skin, always a bit out of his reach. He wanted to taste every part of you, caress and feel and rub his teeth over each part of your skin. 

He imagined you would taste like honeydew or vanilla or something else entirely, something that made his head spin and pants grow tight. 

It was the more he drank that the image was distorted. What Eddie had said to him was definitely getting to him.

It was you and Eddie and himself, limbs entangled with the scent of cedar and smoke that would make Steve’s head spin. Eddie’s long slender fingers adorned with rings would be running over your curves as Steve pressed eager kisses down your hips and thighs, taking his time to press his lips to every inch of your silky skin. 

You would whimper and whine, the sound of your voice echoing around in his skull only made his mouth water. The scent of smoke in Eddie’s hair as Steve and him crashed their lips into each other, noses brushing just slightly. 

It was all too much, the idea and the image of it all sent electricity over his spine. 

He wanted to see you and Eddie, he needed to.

“Robin, I gotta go.” Steve mumbled, suddenly standing up.

“What? Wait, you cannot drive, you are trashed!” Robin stood up to strand in front of him.

—---------------------------------

And that was how Steve ended up walking all the way to yours and Eddie’s apartment, standing in front of the door with a trembling hand as he knocked on the door, leg shaking up and down as he did.

“Steve?” Eddie’s eyebrows were furrowed as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “What are you doing-.” 

He was cut off by Steve pushing the door open all the way and he cupped Eddie’s face in his hands, the curls falling from Eddie’s messy updo as the two stumbled back into the apartment. Steve crashed their lips together with a hungry and desperate strength, his teeth brushing over Eddie’s lips as Steve trapped him against the wall. 

Eddie reacted quickly, eyes wide for a moment before leaning into it, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck as he tilted his head to the side just slightly. He was surprised, to say the least. He wasn’t sure if Steve would be back at all after that day in the rain.

“I don’t understand.” Eddie admitted, eyes blown and eyebrows furrowed as his chest rose and fell rapidly. 

“I want you, both of you. I-I understand now.” Steve rambled, face red and bright like the glowing sun. “I haven’t been able to think about anything else.”

 The two men were pulled from each other's gazes when they heard the floorboards of the apartment shift and a soft gasp echoed through the apartment.

“Steve?” Your voice was small and broken as you rubbed your eyes. You had been woken up by some sound and came to have a look. “Eddie? What are you two doing?” 

PART 4 COMING SOON

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I lowkey feel Ambrose's mind set and outcome could have been much different if he allowed himself to seek love from someone instead of shutting out every chance for love he has been offered and only seeing himself, his mind and body as materialistic value. Same goes with his family, I understand how little he must have felt but if he was more open with his acceptance for love and ability to show it back he'd realise how much he was valued and loved for every aspect of his existence. I can't help but sympathise with him. I feel I'm getting opinionated on his character but his death hurt me the most out of everyone's. I truly believed he had a real love for his family but his love was poisoned by envy and jealousy. I find the most upsetting part of his character is that if he got his way or not he'd still never be happy. If he got his way I feel the buzz of praise and control would wear off eventually and he'd realise it was all just performative. Yes, I know a kingdom can have a real love for their King but if you were to put them in a situation between picking a loved one or the King who would they pick? Maybe Ambrose, but that would be from loyalty, not love. Not REAL love. I'd give it a few months before he'd come down from the high and be left wondering why he hasn't been ticked off or put in a small wrestling match or debate quiz in a while. A few months before it wouldn't only be y/n who couldn't look him in the eye, but he couldn't look at her either. Her face a mosaic of their family blended into one.

I also can't avoid feeling sorrow for him because he really was just a boy who had yet to grow up. On the outside was a man but on the inside was just a boy. Kai is the one slagged the most for his childlike personality but it was always Ambrose that had it. His idea of masculinity was constantly being put on fire and constantly having to be rebuilt with fewer resources every time. It distracted him from the maturity and growth that comes with age. Keeping his feelings enclosed for so long must have spilt out and warped his mind and sadly that's what happens when our emotions bottle up and we feel we have no one to express that to. It's because of this I feel that at his breaking point, he'll go back into his childlike mentality and only then realise how dependent he was on his mom and dad. Only then will he realise he'll never get another hug from his mother or a well-needed lecture from his father. No brothers to seek advice from and mentally no sister to confide in. No family to lean on in times of dread like we all need. And he'd still keep this bottled up. He'd have no one to emotionally connect with on that level again. Maybe a wife but a wife will never be able to bring the love experienced from brothers. The type of love where you can kick and punch each other all you want but they'll still be there at the end of the day eating dinner with you and hold no grudge but love for you by the time the sun goes down. The cycle would only continue for him but this time he has no one to hurt. He got what he wanted and would be stuck in a lifetime of misery and fake smiles with the only thing filling his mind being guilt and sadness. I also believe this would make him realise the love he actually held for his brothers. Yes, I know Y/n was probably his favourite but sometimes when your glass of emotions fills too much it overflows and you are forced to sit there and analyse them even without realising or concentrating on it. That's when he'd find the real love he held for Kai and especially Elijah. The remorse he'd feel and the guilt of realising the love and compassion his older brother felt for him. He'd relive all the small moments. I think that another fault of Ambrose is he expects drastic acts of love that he forgets the real pieces of small everyday doings. He'd realise all the times Elijah probably noticed when a conversation was starting to get Ambrose agitated and would steer it away, all the times he probably realised during balls only he, Elijah was getting all the limelight and praise and would find a way to bring Ambrose's light of character into conversation. Sadly, his win would only make him lose as he'd realise all the real love he was once surrounded with, is now gone that he cold-bloodingly destroyed it. Never will the image of Elijah's lifeless eyes leave his brain or the images of his dead parents. He would only ever see Elijah's eyes before his death looking back to him in mirrors and his father's disappointment when he'd scrunch his brows or his mother's tears when he'd cry. Although he got his dream, he'd just as quickly want to reverse it. I think he'd either live a life of misery and guilt which would reflect onto his people, or end it himself.

I could say Ambrose is probably my favourite character in this story. His feelings are just so universally experienced and we all have probably once felt like an Ambrose. Whether that be with siblings, parents or friends. A lot of us have felt unwanted once and Ambrose embodies that and how its sadness can turn to envy.

As much as he has done bad I seriously just can't help but want to cry for him. He really is just a scared boy under his facade.

The saddest part, even with all the death and horror, I believe his family would still find a way to forgive him. If reincarnation existed in another universe and his loving family could be put in a room together one more time for just one day, I do believe that day would end in one big crying hug of guilt from all sides, and especially at the core of that hug, love.

I went a bit on but I just love his character so much and believe that none of this was his real dream and he never really got to find his real dream in the end. As much as he can be painted to be a monster I don't think his family could ever see that no matter what because the truth is deep down I don't believe he was. His story and life were sad and it's upsetting because he could have had a beautiful life if he stopped looking at how he was perceived by others and took a bit of inspiration and help from his siblings to find his true self. As much as we want to do stuff on our own i don't think he could find himself on his own and do believe with the accepted help from his siblings he could have found that :(

I just realised how long this is... I could have kept it to myself but wanted to kinda voice my opinion on his character because I find him the most interesting and complex!

wow, i’m honestly speechless right now. this is the first time someone has analyzed and truly broke down one of my characters before and it’s honestly sorta eye opening.

it’s always so strange to me how a fictional character i made up in my head can cause such emotional and personal understanding within someone. that they have the capability to reach the readers in ways that cause them to feel sad or empathetic for them.

ambrose personally is one of my favorite characters too. he was so much fun to write at the beginning and with time, the more deeper and complex his character became, i felt an overwhelming sadness when i was reminded of his evitable faith

i had ambrose’s plot line planned out from the first page and never intended for myself to get so attached to him, much less for readers to do the same

in my eyes, he’s extremely relatable. especially for people who grew up as a middle child and often feel overshadowed by their siblings or just in general

i agree that whether he got his way or not, he’d never be satisfied. the rose colored glasses would eventually fall and he’d see the world as it really is and come to terms with all he did to get to where he is

i believe that yn knew this too and that’s why she took it into her own hands to end that misery for him. she knew he was too far gone and that no matter what, he’d never be happy