#and that's something i always do before nano starts

[ageless-aislynn]

Okay, I think I’ve discovered why I’m failing so hard at Camp NaNo this year. And no, it has nothing to do with the fact that I keep spending my time playing Halo.

Well, maybe it’s a little to do with the fact that I keep spending my time playing Halo. But in this house, we do not blame Halo for anything. Halo is a flawless, blameless angel. This is the Way. (Mixing fandoms, FTW! 😛)

I forgot to make a playlist for my Camp NaNo. I’ve made a playlist for every NaNo, Camp or proper, since I did my first NaNo back in 2008. Clearly, not having the POWAH OF TEH PLAYLIST is what’s messing me up.

Yep. It’s the playlist’s fault.

*picks up controller again and launches Halo again* 😇😉

Pictured: me running from my responsibilities... 😂😉

[encrucijada]

i think it really is time to accept i have creative burnout.

[viennakarma]

Happiness is a butterfly

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: He wants you but he can't have you. But when a fatal crash happens, he realizes maybe he should just take the jump, before it's too late.

Word count: 6.4k

Tags: Female reader, teammate reader, smut, oral, angst, crash, very remorseful nano, cursing, mostly fernando pov, fernando is in denial, age gap (not defined), hurt/comfort, brief mention of Jules Bianchi, happy ending, not beta read

Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Notes: LISTEN I wish I could control my creative brain but I can’t. *taps mic* Ok, so, who's ready for our little monthly crying session? This actually came to me in a dream after I listened to Happiness is a butterfly, and I ended up incorporating some of the lyrics in the story. I was only contemplating writing this when Anon sent this request asking for angst after a big fight, and I thought it goes perfectly with what I had in mind.

Hope it's to your liking, Anon!

Find me on Twitter!

“Fernando,” You whispered like it wasn’t wrong, like his name was a prayer.

Fernando knew it was wrong, not only because you were a driver and his teammate, but also because you were way too young for him. But whenever you two were like that, you in his arms, it felt so right, so perfect.

Sometimes he wondered to himself if he took advantage of you. Because ever since you first met, you looked at him with big shiny eyes, like you were facing a hero. He knew you were a fan of his, but then again, most of the younger drivers were. But when you two became teammates and got closer, he’d notice how your eyes would find his first thing after entering any room. Whenever you two had chats alone, you’d smile at him in a specific way you didn’t smile at anyone else, blush creeping up your face.

It was so easy to be enchanted by you, by your kindness and willingness. Fernando was drawn to you like a moth to flame, only you didn’t burn him. You were kind to everyone and very talkative, and for a while, Fernando wondered how you managed to get into Formula 1 and keep your spirit intact. Everyone called you a social butterfly. Then he started calling you Mariposa, as a sweet nickname, and he explained to you it meant “Butterfly”.

You two were always together, being teammates, so it didn’t take long for the dynamic shift. Soon, there were longing looks and lingering touches. The way Fernando would always touch the small of your back for a little too long when talking to you, or the way you lean too close whenever talking to him, or the way his eyes stare at your lips every opportunity. Or when you finished a good race and the first thing you’d do was jump on his arms. How you’d always knock three times on his helmet right before going off to the race, he started reciprocating the gesture, since he knew it was probably your thing for good luck or something.

Things went like that for too long, and neither of you were brave enough to take the jump, as you called it.

That until fate put you face to face during summer break. You were in Mallorca with a bunch of your friends for a girls trip in a resort by the sea. You were having brunch when you spotted Fernando at the same time he spotted you, his eyebrows raising in surprise, he muttered something to the people with him that looked like his family members, before coming to you.

“Mariposa!” He hugged you softly.

“Hi! Good to see you!” You chirped, nervously.

Fernando blatantly checked you out. You were wearing simple bikinis and a light beach robe. You were tanned, hair wild and cheeks red like you had come straight out of one of his wet dreams.

“Enjoying summer break?” He asked.

“Yeah, with my friends,” You pointed to where they waited for you at the table, “will you be here for long?”

“No, my family is going back today and I’m leaving tomorrow. We’ve been here for a few days already.”

You waved him goodbye after a quick chat. That night, the weather, the breeze and the empty villa tempted him into calling you. He didn’t want to be that guy so he resisted the urge, instead going for a walk by the beach, alone. As fate would have it, he found you at a small beach party with your friends, dancing and drinking.

Like a magnet, your eyes found his, and you said something to your friends before walking up to him.

“You came to the party?” You asked.

“No, I was just taking a walk and passed by,” He shrugged, and started walking away “I’ll let you go back to your friends.”

“No! No- I mean- Can I walk with you?” You asked and he just nodded.

You two walked away by the shore, the small waves crashing over your feet, and you two chatting about the island and all the adventures you got to go.

“So you went diving, surfing? Everything?”

“I have always been kind of a scaredy-cat, especially as a kid. My dad used to tell me ‘you just have to breathe ten seconds of courage and take the jump’. Funnily, racing was the only thing I wasn’t afraid of. I’m in control, me and the car are one.”

He listened to you for a long while, his eyes focused on the way the wind picked up your hair, your dress flowy in the wind and your bikini top peeking from under the neckline. You were looking delicious, he had to admit. You always were, but now, after spending the whole day under the sun, your skin was golden and glowy, and he imagined himself biting into your shoulder and kissing up your neck.

When you two finally stopped by the villa, Fernando looked at you attentively.

“Won’t your boyfriend be worried about you?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you shook your head knowing that he was just trying to find out if you had someone.

“You don’t? Well you’re pretty and nice, I thought you’d have one by now.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked, blushing which made him chuckle.

“You know you are stunning.”

“Well, I know I’m pretty, I just didn’t know if I am pretty enough for you.”

“Mariposa,” his voice had a tone of reprimand, but his eyes falling down your cleavage and body, betrayed him.

“Just one kiss?” You asked, pouting, “and we don’t even have to talk about it after.”

“I can’t.”

“But you want to?” You asked, full of hope.

“We should not,” he whispered as you closed the distance to his face, your face barely centimeters from his, lips dangerously close.

“We could just,” you tried to come up with an argument, but your lips brushed his beard and you lost all train of thought.

“If we start, I will not be able to stop,” he mumbled, trying so hard to refrain himself.

“Then don’t.”

That’s all it took for him to press his fingers to your nape, pulling you in and smashing his lips to yours. And it felt divine, like nothing he had ever done before, you were sweet and the harder he kissed you, the more pliant you got in his arms, sighing and moaning softly as his hand found home over your ass, pressing firmly until your whole body was flush to his.

“Fernando,” you whispered, his lips going down your neck, his beard making goosebumps raise on your skin.

Then you walked inside without really breaking apart. Fernando pulled your dress from your body, staring at you in your bikini.

“This is tiny,” he said, hooking a finger by the string on the sides of the bottom.

You smiled some way you hoped was seductive, taking a step back so he could see you fully as you pulled the strings, letting your bikini top fall to the floor, followed by the bottom soon after.

Soon he had you bent over the back of the sofa, holding onto the seat for dear life as he knelt behind you and ate you out, fingering you ass all the way to a mind blowing orgasm. Then he fucked you senseless, whispering dirty nothings into your ear, switching English and Spanish back and forth. He slapped your ass until it was stinging, whispering about your “tempting tiny bikini”. He had you groaning, drooling against the sofa until your toes curled and you came around his cock.

“Nano… Fuck-” you moaned feeling him cumming too.

He cuddled you, both of you falling on the sofa, spent.

“Why were we holding back? We should’ve done this a long time ago.” You said, lips brushing his beard.

He didn’t answer because he knew why he had been holding back. You were young, sometimes naive, and his teammate. It was double the trouble. But he didn’t allow himself to wallow in those feelings, rather focusing on the feel of you naked in his arms.

“You know what we should do? Stay here a bit longer,” you rose from his chest, eyes glinting mischievously, “we should extend our stay here.”

“Just you and me?”

“Just us,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his chest.

And so you stayed with him. You sent your friends to Ibiza as a gift and Fernando extended his rent on the villa. You’d spend the day lazing around, cooking together and going to the beach or the pool. You played tennis and trained together in the small gym. You made love on every possible surface of that whole villa, which left you spent and satisfied every single day.

And you talked. Fernando considered you to be one of the closests people to him on the grid, but still, he learned so much more about you, about your mental strength to rise and thrive in motorsport. And you were clever and witty, joking around him, talking about life and all your dreams. And he could hear you for hours on end, never getting tired of you.

Unfortunately, your little time of uninterrupted happiness had to end. With a heavy heart, you kissed him goodbye, both of you aware that things would never go back to the way they were before summer break. But you two were also too scared to name anything, or to ruin whatever this dynamic was.

But you left Mallorca admitting to yourself that you had fallen in love even deeper.

You tried to keep texting and calling him, but you usually were in very different time zones so the texts were few and far between. Fernando even sent you a sweet text on your birthday a few of days later.

There was a gala by the end of summer break almost three weeks later, hosted by the FIA, it was mostly for mingling, and most drivers usually went, especially those trying to keep an image to the big shots.

Fernando went there because he rarely missed it. And maybe because he knew you would be there too, and maybe he could leave with you.

You arrived a little late, stunning in a green gown, with a tight corset and a big slit showing your leg. Fernando watched as you made rounds, greeting people and old men, other drivers that were your friends and their wives or girlfriends. You eventually made your way to Fernando, and he proudly waited for you when you walked up to him, the most beautiful smile adorning your lips and eyes shining just as much as the diamonds on your earrings.

“You’re beautiful, mariposa.” Fernando whispered.

“Thank you, you look handsome too. Love me a man in a tuxedo.” You whispered back conspiratorially, winking at him.

You two chatted for a little, watching the people around. You told him everything you did during summer break after you two parted ways in Mallorca. When the slow music started, you watched the couples getting to the dancefloor.

“Nano, can we dance?” You asked. He just stiffened, face unsure.

“Hm, I’m not sure.”

“Nobody will mind, we’re teammates,” you shrugged.

“I don’t think it's a good idea,” He looked at your face, still staring longingly at the couples slow dancing on the dancefloor. Yearning for something he couldn’t give you.

“Mhm…” You hummed, disappointed. You stood there silent for a couple more minutes, watching the dancefloor. Fernando imagined dancing with you, having you in his arms, listening to your voice, your hand on his shoulder. You cleared your throat for a second, “I’m gonna get a drink.”

You didn’t wait for his response, leaving with long strides to the bar, the opposite side. Fernando’s eyes never left you, he watched as you got a drink and sipped a little, sitting on a bar stool. Some people stopped to greet you quickly. At some point, Charles Leclerc stopped you, whispering something that made you giggle a little, then he offered you a hand, probably inviting you to dance, but you refused politely. You grabbed a second drink and turned on the stool, nursing your drink and still watching the party go on.

You wanted to dance with him, not anyone else.

Eventually, the party died down, and Fernando got close to you again, whispering in your ear to meet him in the most discreet parking lot and then he left. You watched his back as he made his way out. Downing whatever was left of your drink, you stood up, making a quick route to say goodbye to everyone.

Finally, you met Fernando in the car. He had driven himself in his expensive car.

As he drove away in the middle of the night, he put his hand on your thigh under the slit of the dress. You honestly wanted to jump him, to make him stop the car anywhere and just get into it.

Quietly making into his hotel room, you kicked your high heels off and kissed him, not giving him any second before deepening the kiss, pressing your body to his.

“Wait,” he managed to croak out. You took a step back. He went into his luggage and picked a small box, handing it to you, “I know your birthday was two weeks ago, but since I didn’t see you- well, happy birthday.”

“You didn’t have to…” you whispered, opening the box to a beautiful and delicate necklace with a gold butterfly pendant with small diamonds all around the wings, “it’s so beautiful, Fernando.”

“Not as much as you, Mariposa.” He whispered back, taking the necklace, placing you in front of the full body mirror and standing behind you and locking the necklace around your neck.

“Thank you”

He kissed your neck, running a hand down your arm, then kissing your shoulders while pulling the hair pins out of your hair, letting your hair free. He kept leaving hot wet kisses on your skin, calling you “hermosa” and “my mariposa” all while unzipping your dress slowly. You let him do whatever, his hands pushing the corset out until the fabric pooled around your ankles kicking it away too, and you stood in nothing but panties and the necklace.

You gasped, staring at your reflection on the mirror and him behind you, his rough fingertips running over your side, getting to your front and cupping your boobs. You felt soft as his fingers pinched your nipples, making you moan softly.

“You ready to take me?” He asked against your ears.

“Please, Nano,” you moaned his name the way you only said it when you were alone and getting intimate.

“Foot there,” he pointed to a chair. You did as he said, one leg up so he could have better access to your panties.

He pressed his chest to your back, fingers sliding inside your panties to feel your obscene wetness dampening the fabric. His fingers slid right over your clit, spreading your juices all around, before diving into your cunt. You moaned, head lolling back against his shoulder, as he pleasured you nonstop. You had been turned on even since the gala, and the ride to the hotel had been pure torture not being touched. So it didn’t take much for him to build you up, his thumb brushing your clit. Your moaning got louder and with the way he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers, he knew you were close.

And so he stopped, making you whine. He just chuckled.

“Nano! I was so close!” You pouted.

“Needy girl, get on the bed,” he pointed again, like an order, “you’re cumming around my cock first.”

You sat on the bed slowly, still reeling from almost orgasming. You watched as Fernando started undressing in front of you, so you just ran both hands from his chest down to his thighs, fingers barely touching the straining erection in his pants.

“Don’t get greedy now. Wait.”

With his words, you stopped touching him, leaning back so you could watch him undress. When he finally got rid of all clothing, he leaned, kissing your stomach and up your boobs, mouthing your nipples as his hands pulled your panties, letting you lay down on the edge of the bed. You held his head against your nipples, his eyes finding yours through his eyelashes. 

When you were both fully naked, he just held your legs open and sank into your cunt, making you moan loud as you back rose up from the bed.

“Nano- oh, fuck!” You moaned, and pulled by his neck to kiss you.

He kissed you back slowly, patiently contrasting your desperate hands on his shoulder, crawling up his neck, fingertips sinking into his soft hair, as he fucked you slowly, pressing you deliciously into the bed, one hand firmly on the bedrest and the other holding your neck, pressing until you were cumming, his lips sucking hickeys into your skin.

You two were cuddling quietly when you decided to say what you’ve been thinking about ever since Mallorca.

“We should go on a date, Fernando. Take the next step, I really like what we have.”

You could feel him stiffening against you, and you closed your eyes, afraid of what his response would be.

“We can’t, mariposa. You are way younger than me,” He said somberly, “and we’re teammates. This would be too messy for the both of us, but especially for you, who is just starting your career.”

“I don’t mind if that’s the price I need to pay to have you.”

“We can’t take this kind of risk for something we don’t even know it’s real.”

That squeezed your heart and made you angry with his denial.

“Fernando, this is real- You know that!”

“Calling a cab to take you to your hotel,” he said standing up and picking his phone. His tone was cold, detached from you, like you were just some toy for him to have fun with, and now you served your purpose.

“Don’t be like that, Fernando. This is more than just sex,” you got up, covering yourself with the bedsheet because it felt too vulnerable having this conversation naked.

“We can’t be anymore than that. You’re too young to understand.” He said not looking at you.

There was a lump on your throat rapidly forming. He knew you hated when people treated you like you were dumb because you were young.

“Please let us just talk about it-”

“There’s nothing to talk about. This means nothing! Nada!” He exclaimed.

“You don’t mean that. Don’t be a jerk.” Your voice was already wavering.

You stared at his back as he turned around, going to the opposite side of the room, your tears started falling down.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He finally said but still didn’t look at you.

“I’m already hurt,” you said, picking up your panties from the floor hastily putting them on, realizing how Fernando had helped you with your dress, so you just picked up one of his sweaters and dressed, “do you want me or do you not?”

“I don’t want you.”

“You’re missing good things in life because of fear. Just take the fucking jump, Fernando.”

The next thing he heard was the slamming door behind you.

When he walked back, he noticed you had left the butterfly necklace on the table. Holding the necklace against the palm of his hand, he wondered if he did the right thing or just lost the best thing in his life.

You didn’t text or called him. And he didn’t either. Eventually he texted you, to tell you had “forgot” the necklace, to test the waters.

“You’re the only one who calls me mariposa. This necklace has no meaning to me if you’re not in my life.”

His mind would often wander back to Mallorca, to those few days you and him lived in paradise. Sleeping late, waking up even later, then making love lazily under the sun, sunbathing naked by the pool, and cooking together, training together. There was never silence with you, since you were always talking or singing or playing loud music.

And he missed it. As the weeks progressed and the more race weeks came, you didn’t try to talk to him about the two of you. You were still polite and talkative, usually filling his silence with stories, talks about the track and strategies. You still knocked on his helmet three times before every race, probably a pre race ritual by now.

He missed you. He missed not only the feel of your cunt around his cock, but he missed your loudness, and your laugh. He missed the light in your eyes that was slowly darkening each passing day. Like you were losing hope he would come around and change his mind.

The last race of the season, he was a little late from a meeting, so you were already getting in the car when he came out. Your visor was up, so you just looked at him, and knocked your own helmet three times as a sign to him, who did the same gesture back to you.

By around ⅔ of the race, there was an accident and the red flag was called.

It took maybe two or three minutes until all cars stopped on the pitlane, lined up under the red flag. As Fernando climbed out of the car, he turned around, looking for you, removing his helmet, guard and balaclava, he went inside the garage.

“Where’s Mariposa?” He asked, to one in particular. But then his eyes landed in Martha, your PT, and her eyes were watery as she pointed to the screen.

A sinking feeling expanded in his stomach as he saw your car, that now looked like an unrecognizable wreckage. He dropped his helmet, covering his mouth with a hand. The marshals were all around your burning car, various people with fire extinguishers, trying to lower the fire enough to pull you out.

“Has she responded yet? Did she say anything?” Fernando asked without removing his eyes from the screen.

“No,” Somebody said, somberly.

“She’ll be fine,” Fernando assured, probably trying to convince himself, and his rapid heartbeat. He had seen and had been in many ugly crashes, and in the end, the driver had come out unscathed. He was sure you could manage, you were very strong and stubborn.

When the fire died down enough, a couple of marshals pulled you out, and Fernando’s heart felt like it was stopping as they pulled you out unconscious. The marshals made a small shield around you and carried you to the ambulance.

Looking around, Fernando finally noticed how everyone was horrified by the crash, and all the drivers around seemed pale and worried. It took a couple of minutes for the FIA to decide to keep the race going, setting it to restart 15 minutes later.

“Fernando,” someone called, and he turned to be faced with George and Alex, who were your closest friends on the grid, “any news on her?”

“Not yet,” he paused, trying really hard to not freak out, “Mike went to the hospital with her.”

“That was ugly,” Alex muttered gloomily.

The tree of them stayed silent, eyes on the screen where a replay of your crash. It was probably a mechanical issue, since you were in high speed when the tyres locked, and you visibly couldn’t brake, going straight into the barriers, full force.

“Will-” George started but his voice failed a little and he cleared his throat, “will she be ok?”

“Yes. She’ll be ok.” Fernando said, not only to calm down the two young drivers, but also to convince himself, since no other option was acceptable in his mind.

You had to be fine.

“Fuck it,” Fernando went inside his room, changing quickly into more casual clothes, as he came out, the team was confused, “I’m sorry, but I have to check on her. Martha, come with me.”

He left knowing he would face terrible consequences with the FIA, not only for not going back to the race, but also because he avoided the press to go to the hospital you were taken to.

On the car, on the way to the hospital they had taken you to, his phone rang, and it was Mike, who had been the first one to go with you to the hospital. Fernando supposed Mike would want to tear him a new one for abandoning the race.

But no. Mike wanted to update him, telling you had a concussion that had knocked you out on the spot, inside the car. They were going to check if you had any more injuries with scans and tests.

By the time he got to the hospital, he met with Mike, and with Vince, your friend and manager, they said you were still unconscious and going through all the examinations necessary. The doctors wanted to see if you didn’t have any internal bleeding or fractures. They kept you unconscious during urgent care, hoping you would wake up after the tests and after the meds wear off.

Fernando sat in the waiting room unmoved, his fear eating him inside every minute you had not woken up yet. Martha was tearful the whole time, while Vince was making calls right and left, he got in touch with your family and closest friends. Alberto showed up around an hour after to pick Fernando up to go back to the hotel.

“I am not leaving,” Fernando said.

“Fernando, there’s nothing you can do. Vince said she will probably wake up late morning tomorrow, we can just-”

“I will not leave.”

Fernando’s words left no space for debate. He didn’t have any commitments for the next week. So he stayed after everyone left, waiting for news on his mariposa. He could barely drink the coffee because his stomach was churning with the lack of news. In the middle of the night, finally they finished the tests and they put you in a room.

After bribing his way inside, Fernando was able to get into your room and see you. You were sleeping, looking peaceful in that hospital bed, using an oxygen inhaler.

“Why does she need oxygen?” He asked the nurse checking on you.

“Here it says she inhaled some smoke before the fire was put off,” the woman explained, reading your chart.

“She will be alright, isn’t she?” He asked, his tone audibly worried. The nurse sighed, as if she didn’t want to say her next words.

“We can’t tell just yet. For now the scans and tests show she is fine, but we can only tell for sure after she wakes up.”

She left Fernando behind with dread consuming his every thought.

As he stared at your unconscious body on the bed, he couldn’t help but remember when you slept with him in Mallorca. Your naked body tangled with the blankets, hair splayed on the pillows and tanned limbs looking for him even in sleep, hugging him and keeping him in bed with you longer than he usually did. He sat by the bed, hand holding yours, running his thumb over your cold knuckles.

The remorse was eating him alive. You had to be alright. You had to wake up soon and laugh at his worried face, joking that you’re tougher than you look. Giving him those eyes. He couldn’t bear not looking at your eyes again, that would break him apart one last time.

Because you could have been his the whole time. He could have slept with you in his arms more often than not. He could have been stealing your kisses in dark corners and going out for dinner after late team meetings. He could’ve received random cute selfies from you throughout his day. He could’ve whispered “I love you” into your skin every night. Only he didn’t.

His last words to you were “I don’t want you” and he couldn’t take it if those were his last words for you ever. He never let himself admit to you that he had fallen. That he was absolutely crazy for you, that he loved you even before you ever kissed him.

He was about to spiral in guilt when your sister arrived in the early morning. She visibly didn’t expect Fernando there, holding her sister’s hand.

“I just talked to the doctor,” Mila, your sister, muttered.

“He said the meds will wear off later today,” Fernando said.

“You can go rest now, come back later.” Mila offered. Didn’t sound like she wanted him specifically out, but more out of worry.

“No, I- I want to stay until she’s awake.”

“Fernando, she wouldn’t want you to wear yourself thin because of her,” The way Mila said the words, it left a little unsaid.

“You know?” Was all he asked. Do you know about us? What do you think? What did she say about me? But Mila just nodded, she didn’t look judgemental.

“I know.”

He was about to leave to at least shower and eat something before coming back. As Mila got closer to your sleeping form, Fernando stood back and your sister touched your hand. Then she knocked three times on the bedside table. Fernando frowned.

“Why did you do that?” He asked Mila.

“When we were kids in karting, Dad used to do that to our helmets before races, each knock means a word. ‘I love you’, and with time it just became a silly habit of hers,” Mila explained.

Fernando’s heart twisted inside, eyes watering.

Knock. I. Knock. Love. Knock. You.

You had been doing the knocks to him for months, even before the summer break.

He left the room without a word, breathing in and out to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He wasn’t an emotional man by any means, but the knowledge that you have been loving him for so long, broke his heart.

After going back to the hotel to shower and eat, he went knocking in Alberto’s room when he noticed he didn’t have his phone anywhere in sight ever since before the race had started. Like predicted, Alberto had his phone.

In his suite, Fernando unlocked his phone to hundreds of notifications, a lot from other drivers, asking for news about you, since not the Formula 1 or the FIA had released any notes about your condition. After shooting a few answers to the other drivers, he finally saw one notification, saying you had left him a voicemail the day before. From the time stamp, it was a bit before the race.

Wide eyed, he pressed play on the voicemail.

“Hey, I’m about to go out in the car, but I guess I just breathed 10 seconds of courage, well not enough to wait to say it to you face to face,” you giggled nervously, “but what I mean to say is, I love you. Probably not what you wanted to hear, but I do love you. And I know you don’t feel the same, but maybe you could… I don’t know, maybe you could take a chance on me. I know your reservations about the world, but… We should take the jump. I can make you really happy if you let me. And maybe one day you will grow to love me- god, that last part was pathetic- Shit- How do I delete this?” There was noise as if you were struggling with the phone and then someone called your name far away, “one second!” you told the person, “shit, I gotta go. Just please, can we talk over the winter break? I guess what I mean is that-” Then the beep ended the message, cutting your voicemail off.

He pressed play a couple more times, until he could breathe again, your voice offering some sense of peace to his mind. You were willing to have him, even after he kicked you out of his hotel room, even after he pretty much ignored your history all these past few months.

It would be alright. You would wake up, he would tell you he loved you and he was so sorry that he had wasted so much time being afraid of what people may think or how the world might treat you.

Only you didn’t.

You didn’t wake up after the meds wore off. And Fernando, your sister, Vince and Martha were all shocked when the doctor said it was possible you were in a coma.

“Everything seems ok, but she’s not waking up. Sometimes the body takes a little more time to recover from traumas like this.”

“When-” Mila’s voice failed, tears streaming down her face, “when do you believe she could wake up?”

“We can’t pinpoint that with precision,” the doctor answered.

“Get all the tests redone,” Fernando said suddenly, “maybe you missed something.”

“But-”

“I’ll pay for it.”

That’s all he said before leaving and entering a toilet by the waiting room. His chest heaving, he watered his shaky hands to try and calm down. You didn’t wake up. They weren’t sure when or if you would wake up. And, fuck, Fernando had seen that before with Jules, who was comatose for months before passing away.

He remembered the blinding pain of losing a friend and he couldn’t bear losing the love of his life too. Fernando stayed in the stall for a while, trying to calm down his terrified thoughts.

When he went back, your sister was still crying, being comforted by Vince.

“Fernando, can you stay here while we call my family?” Mila asked, and Fernando nodded.

As they left, Fernando sat by your side, holding your hand. With his thumb running over the back of your hand, he looked at your face.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered, “I need you here. There’s still so much for you here. Please, I just need you to fight a little more, yes? You have always been stubborn.”

He waited for some kind of miracle, for you to wake up, for your eyes to find him like they always did even in a crowded room.

“When you recover, we will go out, on a proper date, and we’ll dance, like you wanted to. We’ll hold hands and I’ll take you to meet my family.” He kissed the back of your hand softly, “Wake up, Mariposa.”

He stayed there the whole day, letting your sister go find a hotel to stay and get some sleep. Then at night, she came back, assuring Fernando that he should go to sleep too, she knew he was more than a day and a half awake. Back at the hotel, he showered the smell of hospital off and made some calls to take care of his businesses. He texted George and Alex to update them. He also talked to his family, giving updates on his teammate, but not prolonging the chat as to not risk breaking down because of the state his mariposa was in the hospital. Then he went to sleep after a quick dinner, exhausted enough to sleep fairly quickly.

He managed to sleep the whole night, going in and off dreams of you, his brain probably too worried to really forget, even unconscious. He woke up at dawn, going back to the hospital so your sister could leave to rest.

Fernando checked on you first thing, and you were still unconscious, but your sister was on the phone talking to your parents, so he just left to give her a little privacy. He went into the cafeteria and drank a small cup of coffee.

As he went back, he noticed how agitated Vince looked on the phone right outside your room.

“Vince, what happened?” He asked, dreading that the worse had happened in the few minutes he was away.

“She woke up!”

Fernando’s eyes welled up with tears as he opened the door.

“-No, no, don’t talk just yet. Let’s wait for the doctor,” you sister said to you, then both of them looked at Fernando, who looked rooted to the spot, “Fernando! She woke up!” Your sister said through happy tears.

Your sister hugged again, kissing your head, whispering how she loved you all while Fernando stood there, trying to will his limbs to move. Then the doctor and a nurse came, asking you all to leave so he could examine you.

He waited outside as your sister went on the phone with the good news to your family again. Then the doctor came out, announcing you were looking good, and apparently no sequelae but they would still keep you for a few more days for close examination and to make sure everything was alright.

Barely registering anything, Fernando just entered your room, and you smiled at him. You smiled. Your eyes shining bright like you had just woken up from a simple nap.

And then he cried. Fully cried for the first time since the accident, like the relief of seeing you alive and well broke the dam of the tears he had been trying to hold back. And he could breathe again. Covering his face with both hands, he tried to get himself in control but he only stopped when he heard you.

“Na-” your voice was hoarse, “-no.”

“No, don’t talk yet. The nurse said your throat might feel a little dry.” He managed to subside his tears enough to talk.

When he sat down on the chair, you lifted your hand to hold his face. You were still a bit weak, but you wiped his face of the tears. He held your hand with both of his, kissing your palm.

“You gave us quite the scare,” Fernando said with a small smile. You smiled back, looking sleepy, “I thought I was going to lose you.”

You shook your head minimally but your eyes had that mischievous glint, like you were thinking of a silly joke about how tough you actually are.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for making you think I don’t love you, when I really do. I have for the longest time. We’ll make it work, however you want,” he just dumped the words, not wanting to lose another precious second not being yours, “soy tuyo, Mariposa. Te amo, mi amor.”

You just held his hand, squeezing it slowly three times. I. Love. You.

[thepixelelf]

warnings: coarse language. wc: 793

[the amnesia card always declines]

If there's one thing Joshua Hong has above all else, it's the audacity.

If there's two things, it's the audacity and the most grabbable, stupidly defined, makes-you-wanna-bite-into-them man tits you've ever seen in your godforsaken, miserable life.

Well, okay, maybe that counts as three things. Whatever.

"Oh my fucking god," you hiss, ducking closer to the coffee shop/bakery's table and hiding your entire head with both arms. "What is he doing here?!"

Soonyoung, the least subtle person you know (but you've given up on fixing him at this point) turns 180 degrees in his chair to watch the loser posing for a "totally casual" photoshoot outside. He hums in understanding, putting his hand under his chin like an experienced detective. "He must've seen your instagram story."

"He doesn't even follow me..."

"Oh, he's following you, alright." Soonyoung turns back around and stabs his fork into his strawberries 'n' cream croffle.

You glare at him over the pastries on the table. "Very funny."

"I know I am," he says with a dumb smile that says your sarcasm was not effective! "When are you going to stop holding your stupid grudge?"

An offended scoff escapes you. "It is a completely reasonable grudge, for your information."

"What, you being mad at him for...kissing you at that party?"

"For smooshing that stupid pretty face on mine at that party then acting like it never happened!" You slap your hands on the table, but as soon as you spot Joshua outside start to turn his head, you duck back into hiding.

Soonyoung points his fork at you. "He was drunk."

"So was I," you argue with a sneer. "But I remember everything-- especially you being the reason we had to cut the night short because you started drunk-crying and I had to take you home."

Suddenly capable of shame, Soonyoung scoots forward in his chair and leans over the table. "Have I mentioned that I love you and you're the best friend in the world?"

"Whatever, buddy." You roll your eyes. "Just remember all the shit I've done for you when I'm the one crying in the club."

"Crying in the club?" echoes Joshua--

Joshua?!

Your soul escapes your body entirely and jolts back in a nano-second. "Holy fuck--" You put a hand over your racing heart and send a death glare to the smug offender. "You scared the shit out of me!"

Joshua just smiles that stupidly pretty smile and, damn it, you're supposed to be ignoring this jackass.

"Sorry," he says, but he doesn't sound sorry at all. "Are you free?"

Making a face, you look over at Soonyoung, who just shrugs, then back at Joshua. "...Right now?"

"Right now is good." He nods in thought. "Or later today. Or tomorrow. If not, then the day after that. You've been avoiding me."

You force your shoulders to relax and avert your eyes. "No I haven't."

Joshua's expression suddenly goes solemn, which you notice because, shit, you started looking at him again. "Did I do something?"

At that, you scoff, crossing your arms and shaking your head in disbelief.

"Seriously. That party... I don't remember much, except that I've barely seen you since."

"Don't play the amnesia card on me, Josh. It's so tired."

His brows furrow, and your stupid fingers want to massage the hurt look right off his forehead. As if the dumbass deserves it.

"It's not amnesia," Joshua says. "But it's fuzzy. I can't tell what really happened that night or what was just my dream."

"Really? We're talking dreams now?"

He shrugs, crossing his arms, which fold just underneath those stupid, huge pecs... "I happen to dream about you a lot."

"Mmhm... Sure..." Are they bigger than the croffles? The melon buns? The... "Wait-- what?"

Joshua smiles, and you just know he caught you staring, the little shit. "I said, I dream about you a lot. Kiss scenes included."

Your jaw drops, maybe to the floor, but you can't be bothered to check. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Soonyoung make a perfect circle with his mouth before he hurriedly asks the barista if they serve popcorn.

"Joshua Hong, you..." Standing from your chair, you fist the collar of his fleece sweater in both hands, primed to throttle. "...are so fucking stupid."

Then somehow, even though you're the one who pulls him in, he's the one who takes your breath away.

When your lips part, though, you open your eyes while his stay closed, and he leans in again.

"Wait," you say, halting him with the one word. "How did you find me here?"

Wincing, Joshua peeks just one eye open. "Please don't be mad at him."

You whip around, but the bell over the shop's door is already tinging, and Soonyoung is dashing across the street like his life depends on it.

Good, because it does.

"Kwon Soonyoung! You are so fucking dead!"

[lovepookie]

₊˚ෆ Consequences - p.gw

♡ sypnosis: your boyfriend is park gunwook. sweet. cute. couldn’t hurt a fly. and you? a demon who wants to tick him off and see him jealous. gunwook doesn’t play when it comes to his feelings, so naturally, you’ll suffer the consequences—or maybe you won’t. you’re kinda his soft spot.

♡ genre: teeth rotting fluff, some angst, established relationship, boyfriend!gunwook

♡ 2.1k word count

♡ warnings: toxic?? a little emotional manipulation?? reader trying to get gunwook jealous, cursing, please let me know if i need to add any!

♡ nano note: idk guys i was just deep in my gunwook bag when i wrote this. he’s so 🥺…enjoy! xoxo

.♡.

You stared at your boyfriend on the couch, watching the way he maneuvered his long fingers across his phone screen, probably playing clash of clans like he always did.

The natural pout that his lips formed made your cheeks flush rosy.

He was just so cute. Just thinking about all the times that very pout had convinced you to do things for and with him had your heart racing.

Who could resist it?

This got you thinking…

You don’t think you’ve ever seen your sweet and caring boyfriend actually upset. Maybe bothered, but he’d always cover it up with a smile and/or talk out how he was feeling before those emotions escalated. It left you to believe that this healthy way of communication and emotional management had been one of the very reasons you fell for the boy.

As you watched him in his puffer jacket, pout still on display, black hair in his eyes, the devil on your shoulder started to talk to you.

How would he look angry?

You’d never seen him genuinely frustrated…

Now, now, now.

I know what you’re thinking!

This isn’t a good idea!

“You’re so in love with me huh? Just can’t stop staring…tsk tsk…” He mumbled out just for you to hear, a small boyish and teasing grin making its way onto his face before his lips pursed up like a duck.

The pink rosacea in his cheeks from the cold outside still hadn’t settled, and yet here he was, already on his bullshit.

His words made you roll your eyes as you decided to make your way to the other side of the couch.

Fuck what was right and wrong!

He teased you first, so let the games commence.

You scoff as you move, deciding to scroll through your own phone mindlessly for the award-winning act you were about to put on. “In love?…with you? Hah!” You chuckled out, intending to say it loud enough to where it wasn’t meant to be heard by him but still was.

He peaked over at you for the first time in a while and frowned a bit as you stretched your legs out to where your feet had ended at the side of his thighs.

You’d seen that frown before.

He’d do it when something was said that didn’t quite sit right with him and it would usually lead to a conversation.

This time, however, his hands found your ankles and pulled you closer by the leg, almost disregarding his phone altogether.

“What did you say?” He asks, peaking over at you as you screech from the sudden movement. You always forget about his strength, so the sudden pull forward caught you off guard.

“I didn’t say anything…” You say, never sparing a glance his way, face clearly ridden with irritatance.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him smirk, then his hands leave your ankles, but his elbow touches your sock-covered feet mindlessly. He goes back to playing on his phone, igniting a bigger want in you to continue the game that you were playing with him.

For a few silent moments, you thought through ways to get under his skin, deciding you weren’t good at truly hurting him without doing anything detrimental. Still, you smirk for a second when an idea comes to mind.

“Gunwook, can you please stop touching me?” You say, pulling your feet away so no contact would be made between you two.

That’s it! Hit him where it hurts; physical affection.

His head snaps to you, and he immediately flinches away from you as he processes your words. You’d never asked him that before…and definitely never whilst using his government name.

“Uh, yeah…sorry.” He mumbled, and now his frown is a pout.

A sad one.

You keep yourself from laughing at the scene, your chest aching for your baby boo and how mean you were being to him.

He didn’t deserve this!

You take him in for a moment as his fingers tap lightly on his screen. Random swipe, random tap…it was almost like he was fidgeting with his game at this point. Whatever was on his mind was clearly bothering and hindering him from focusing.

Suddenly, without warning, he’s quickly turning his phone off and turning his body towards you.

“Baby…do you want to eat something?” He says in a hopeful tone, thick eyebrows raised.

You barely spare him a glance.

“Not really…” you mumble, continuing to randomly type your feelings in the messaging app so it looked like you were texting someone at the moment.

You spot Gunwook’s shoulders drop a bit, then he’s leaning back into the couch, just staring at you.

“I thought you texted me earlier that you hadn’t eaten yet…” He says as he watches you, his eyes a little serious. You continue to spare him no glance.

“I lied. I ate with a friend earlier. He left before you got here.” You lie, tone flat. At this point your pulse feels like it’s beating out of your chest. From the corner of your line of vision, you watch as he continues to stare at you, face blank and almost no emotions emitting at all.

It felt like your heart was about to jump out of your rib cage and hide under the couch with how serious he looked. This was not your pookie; it wasn’t even Gunwook at this point.

It felt like a stranger had taken over.

You can’t really blame him though; you too probably seemed like a stranger to him right now.

After a few more seconds of excruciatingly tense silence, he‘s standing and zipping up his coat, presumably getting ready to leave.

Your eyes shoot up, and when you catch a glimpse of his face, you knew you fucked up. It’s cold—unwaveringly cold.

Like a switch, you realize the game is over, and quickly stand to your feet. ��Where are you going?” You ask, eyebrows raising and a scared smile rising to your face. Gunwook just looks past you and around for his belongings, sparing you not an ounce of his attention.

“I’m going to leave. You can call your friend back. Maybe you’d have more fun with him.” He says, and for a second you catch the glossiness in his eyes. Your heart drops immediately, and before you can even think, you’re launching yourself at him.

“Gunwook! No! Wookie i was just playing! It’s a joke I swear it’s a joke!” You say, arms tightening around his rigid frame whilst he goes still and stares past you.

“…”

There’s silence for a breif moment and you start to get really scared.

“Pookie you know it’s all jokes! I wanted to get you mad…It was stupid, I’m really sorry.” You say, chin on his chest as you cling onto him, manically begging him to listen.

He takes a moment before looking down at you, your faces impossibly close, a blank expression still present.

“…Say swear.” He says, looking down at you through his lashes, pout forming on his lips.

You can’t help but crack a smile, leaning on your tiptoes to peck his lips.

If it was up to you, you’d wish to kiss his pout away until it never returned.

So that’s what you do.

Peck.

Peck.

Peck.

And when you pull away with a “muah!” each time, his smile starts to appear and grow wider. Soon he’s fighting back the smile as he looks down at you, never once leaning down to aide the height difference as you struggle.

“Gunwook I swear! I swear on everything, it was just a joke. There was no guy here. I am really really hungry right now. I don’t want to see you upset. I’m sorry.” You ramble out, staring up at him.

He was your grey marshmallow right now, arms stuck to his sides and in his puffer jacket as you squeezed the life out of him.

And just like that, a full smile breaks out on his face, gummy and sweet. You smile too in response, but then you’re quickly squealing again when he breaks free of your squish and suddenly throws you over his shoulder.

“H-Hey! Put me down!” You yell, trying to steady yourself to be vertical again by using his back. He laughs and keeps you in the air however, arms strongly wrapped around your legs.

“No. I’m hungry and you made me wait.” He says, and you can hear the gummy smile in his tone. Soon he’s marching outside where snow is falling from the sky; reminants of a blizzard from a few days ago.

The cold air immediately hits your pajama-covered skin and you feel a shiver run up your spine. “W-we can order food! Take me back inside, I’m cold!! Put me down!” You yelp, hands on his shoulders as you look down at him, a smile never leaving your face.

He just looks up at you and laughs.

“Oh my- I’ve never seen you from this angle before.” He says, and his lips are doing that pursed thing again.

You blush, trying to visualize yourself in his position when a vivid image of your probable double-chin comes to mind.

“Sh-shut up-“ You try, but you’re cut off suddenly when his grip on you is loosening, and your body slides closer to the floor.

You’re suddenly aware of your sock-only covered feet so you screech and start to claw at his shoulders as you raise your legs.

“Gunwook! I don’t have shoes on-“

“You told me to put you down!” He’s laughing out, staring at you face to face now that you’ve shimmied your way down to eye-level.

You smack his chest, which ultimately doesn’t do much because of the layers he’s wearing.

“I’m going to get sick-“

“Good.” He says, interrupting you again, shiny stars in his eyes as he nods. You go quiet as you take him in, staring at the snow flakes littering the top of his head.

He stares back with that wide smile still on display whilst he tries to hide it. The sight nearly takes the cold feeling rising in your chest away. You felt warm.

In the middle of a blizzard—but warm.

“It’s what you get for trying to make me mad-“

“Gunwook, you’re stunning.” You say, cutting him off for the first time.

He’s shocked for a second as he looks in your eyes—it’s there where he can tell you mean what you say. He goes silent and his cheeks flush as he thinks about blaming it on the cold.

“Hey…that’s my line…” He says shyly, and without another second to spare he’s taking you back inside. Out of shyness, he opens the door quickly and places you down as soft as he can.

You smile, completely enamored by the warm giant. He shuffles into your home, shy and awkward as if he hasn’t been there twenty plus times before.

“G-go change. You’ll get sick.” He says through a stutter. You smile up at him, eyeing the snowflakes littered through his raven-locks.

So then you motion for him to come closer.

“W-what?” He asks, inching a small bit forward. You roll your eyes.

“I’m not going to do anything, come here and let me help you.” You say, giggling at his shy stubbornness. He blushes as he leans down, then your arms make their way up to pat the snow off of his head.

He’s smiling at you the whole time, eyes full of charm.

Eyes that read; she’s so into me.

Before you can pull away he’s mirroring you, moving to get the snow off of your hair but obnoxiously messing it up and tangling it in the process.

You laugh out in protest at this. “Hey! O-okay! I get it-“

But he doesn’t stop.

“We get it! Thank you-“

And without warning, his lips are on yours and cutting you off, large hands at both sides of your cheeks.

His lips are pillowy and warm and juxtapose his cold hands that are cupping your face like you’ll disappear in any second.

When he pulls away, his eyes immediately look into yours, hands never leaving your face. He leans in one more time, and naturally your eyes close on instinct.

Before he peppers another light kiss to your lips, he whispers out a few words accordingly—just like the little shit that he is;

“I’ll forgive you this time, cutie.”

2024 © lovepookie

♡ please do not plagarize, repost, copy or translate any of my works. thank you.

[nanowrimo]

How a First-Timer Wrimo Landed Literary Representation

NaNo participant Demi Michelle Schwartz shares her story on how NaNoWriMo helped her sign on with a literary agent! She also offers some lessons she learned from taking on the challenge — and maybe it'll inspire you too!

Are you an author with dreams of being represented by a literary agent? If so, I’m here to tell you that NaNoWriMo played a key role in my journey to signing with my agent, Michelle Jackson at LCS Literary.

I received an offer on the manuscript I drafted during my first NaNoWriMo in 2022. Fun fact, I signed my contract during November in 2023, exactly a year after writing the book. Reflecting back, there were choices I made that I hope will give you insight into how your NaNoWriMo project could lead to securing representation.

Stepping Outside My Comfort Zone

I’ve been an avid reader of young adult mysteries and thrillers ever since middle school. For this reason, I naturally gravitated to those genres when I started writing books. Still, I’ve grown to appreciate all genres from my MFA in Writing Popular Fiction program at Seton Hill University, a top one being fantasy. When I decided to participate in NaNoWriMo, I stepped outside my comfort zone and drafted a young adult Little Red Riding Hood reimagining with Greek mythology.

Exploring a different genre led to me writing the book that got me my agent. So, if you’re interested in taking the NaNoWriMo challenge, consider trying something new. Along the way, you’ll expand your creative horizons.

Planning Before Taking the Challenge

Something I noticed after participating in NaNoWriMo twice now is that planning my books led to me feeling invested in them. As authors, we always have ideas bouncing around in our heads. Some stick, and others don’t. Taking time to explore my characters, plot, world, and more made me realize how much I loved what I was creating. Before I even started writing on November 1, I felt passionate about my story.

When you’re pitching agents, your goal is to sell your story. Having such a strong belief in your manuscript will allow you to authentically query it. Passion shines through, and if you care about your book, an agent may fall in love with it, too.

Taking Time to Receive Feedback and Revise

I can’t stress enough how important it is to receive feedback on your work and do several rounds of revisions. Once you draft a book during NaNoWriMo, it may be difficult to resist the temptation to send it out right away. Rather than querying a manuscript that isn’t ready, channel your eagerness to share your work into finding critique partners and beta readers.

For my manuscript, I did a revision on my own after winning NaNoWriMo. Then, I received critiques, made edits, and repeated this process until I felt my manuscript was ready. I queried my agent in August, and she offered me representation at the end of October. I truly believe the time and effort I put into polishing my book led to getting many full requests and my offer.

If I would have pitched the draft from NaNoWriMo, I’m 100 percent sure my email would have been flooded with only rejections. So, remember to take your time revising. The wait will be worth it when you begin receiving positive responses to submissions.

Now that it’s a new year, there’s a long runway before November arrives. It’s never too early to start planning your NaNoWriMo project. Since this challenge gave me the opportunity to draft the book that made one of my dreams come true, I hope you feel inspired to take a strategic approach to your NaNoWriMo project and give it wings to soar in the publishing world.

Demi Michelle Schwartz is a young adult fantasy and thriller author from Pittsburgh, PA, represented by Michelle Jackson at LCS Literary. After earning BAs in Creative Writing and Music from Seton Hill University, she went on to pursue her MFA in Writing Popular Fiction at Seton Hill and graduated with her degree in June of 2022. When Demi isn’t working on her manuscripts, she’s busy chasing her other dream as an award-winning songwriter and recording artist.

Check out her website, Twitter, and Instagram!

Header photo by Negative Space.

[raapija]

Xan we get anything slightly angsty from the pookie au 🥺 theyre too content

Thank you for the prompt <3 I'm sorry for the late response. The amount of times I've started to write something, deleted it, started again, deleted, started, deleted... ugh... But now I've finally settled for this. I struggle to write angsty stuff, but I hope you like this one. It became a lot sadder than I anticipated...

This is inspired by this post, so give it a quick glance before reading.

this is set in 2020

summary: Lance calls Fernando after a tough day and it turns even worse.

warnings: angst, self-doubt, lance having a breakdown and fernando not helping

Lance sat on the edge of his bed. The clock on his hotel room wall was too loud. It made his ears tingle with each tick, driving him mad. He got up, went to pick the clock off the wall and pulled the batteries out. He carefully laid them onto a small table and then returned to sit on the bed, now cross-legged and looking down at his phone.

The black screen of his iphone taunted him, begged for him to pick it up. It was beautifully laid on the red satin cover of the bed. Lance fought between calling and not calling. Maybe he should just go for a run to clear his mind, but the idea of hearing Fernando's voice... He needed it right now. The race had been a total fluke, finishing dead last and he had rushed through the media pen to get back to his hotel. Everyone was staring at him again.

Lance grabbed the phone, taking a while before unlocking the screen and going to find Fernando's number. It was under 'Nano ♥', like it had been for years. The emoji at the end pulled on his heartstrings.

"Cariño?"

Lance sighed when he heard Fernando pick up.

"Lancito? You okay?"

"Yeah, uh..." Lance hurried to answer. He picked on a loose thread on a seam on his joggers. The words were harder to find than usual.

"I miss you." he got out. He let his head hang down, gripping his hair and squeezing his eyes shut.

"I miss you too, baby."

"I love you." Lance added, his voice barely audible. Tears started to fall down, staining the satin under him a dark shade of burgundy. He gripped his hair tighter, so hard it hurt.

"Yo también te quiero, cariño."

Fernando's voice was so smooth, so calm. A stark contrast to Lance's sobbing, which became louder and he had to hold a hand over his mouth to keep them inside.

"Don't cry. I hate hearing you cry."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry either."

"I'm sorry..." Lance whispered. He was always apologizing. Whatever it was. Especially to Fernando.

"What is it, churri? What is making you sad?"

"I had a bad race. They're writing stories about me again."

"Don't look at those. They don't know you."

"I feel like everyone's staring at me. Like they hate me."

"That's not true."

Lance wiped the tears off his face, taking a couple deep breaths to calm down. He sniffled, and then continued: "I know it's not true, but everyone else doesn't. My family, my friends, the guys on the grid... To them that's real."

"No, don't think like that. Your family loves you, your friends love you. I love you."

The word 'love' was losing meaning over distant phone calls. Lance hated it, hated it to his core. He wished Fernando would just come back and hold him. Touch him. Even be there to just look at him.

"Where are you right now?" Lance asked. He knew Fernando was in the Middle-East, doing some sort of a rally raid. He had so many things going on, that Lance struggled to keep up. It felt like Fernando was grabbing at everything he possibly could, finding ways to keep himself occupied instead of coming home, instead of staying still.

"Somewhere, always somewhere."

"But never here."

Lance felt like choking again. He missed him. Missed him so much it was killing him, tearing him apart. If he had known love could hurt you this much, he would've never let himself fall for Fernando.

"I'm tired of being in love and being alone."

"It's okay, I'll find you again."

"But you're so far away from me. You're always away. And I'm always alone."

"I love you, I'm coming back, lo prometo. Te amo."

Again. Love, love, love, echoing in Lance's ears. Two years. Two years Fernando had been away. They saw each other maybe once a month.

"I don't know how much longer I'll be able to wait."

There was a pause in Fernando's end, then a sigh, and Lance felt the tears start to well up in his eyes again.

"I'm trying."

"I need you."

"Cariño, I'm sorry. I promise I find a way back."

Empty promises. Fernando's specialty. Lance wanted to stab at him, right in the heart. A new emotion took over, anger.

"You sons miss you, too. Lando, Oscar and Carlos."

Another pause. His kids were always a way in. Lance took it as a chance to take control.

"You were there for all their life and then you go away like this. Why? Why now? You hold everyone together and now it's all falling apart. You say you love me, but you're never here to love me. You're away so much, it doesn't even feel like we're together anymore. Why?"

"I don't know..."

"Figure it out!" Lance cried. What he was about to say next tortured him, it felt like his soul was being ripped out of him. "I can't live like this. I've given you three years and you've given me nothing. Every day you just go further and further away. Like you want me to leave you."

"No. Never."

"It's what it feels like..." Lance choked out. He didn't even try to keep the tears in anymore. He was too tired of it all.

"You can not leave me. I love you. I find a way, I promise. Lance, you can't."

Lance gave out a pained groan at Fernando's pleading voice. He wanted to throw his phone at the wall. Wanted to scream at Fernando, hit him, kick him, make him understand how much it hurt.

"It's killing me. I give you chance after fucking chance. I'm done with it. I'll only give you one more. One more fucking... -If you don't come back, that's it. I won't ruin my whole life for you."

"I will."

"One chance."

"I promise, I will come to you. Lance, I promise. I lo-"

Lance hung up on him, gripping his phone tight and swinging his arm back to throw it, but he didn't. He instead crumbled down onto the bed, crying into the sheets. He wrapped his arms around himself to imagine it was someone else holding him.

Lance wanted him to come back, to knock on his door in the morning and hug him and kiss him. But a small part of him also wanted Fernando to stay away. That small part ate at him, growing bigger and bigger. Lance wanted to kill it; burn it with fire and never think of it ever again. But it became stronger every day, almost enough that it could take over. Only Fernando could make it go away. If he'd only come back.

[carionto]

Geronimo!

Space suits have come a long way - near 1 to 1 articulation and haptic feedback, intuitive zero-g booster based movement, nano-clamps for spiderman-like grip in low/no gravity, and of course dozens of micro layers of protection against all know space radiation and other hazards. Plus a centimeter thick composite armor against sentient threats, with a "cocoon" mode to fully cover all joints and other normally more exposed parts, that renders the Human inside near impervious to most small arms, and even some heavier impacts.

To fully test the limits of protection you don't actually need to have a person inside, just plenty of sensors and a good understanding Human physiology and anatomy. The military, of course, does things a bit differently, as their suits are even tougher. They do have this half-half mode where you are mostly armor, but can still move, but more like the Terminator. Given it also boasts a powered exoskeleton between the armor and hazardous protection layers, soldiers can wield weapons other militaries typically mount on vehicles, so the metaphor is almost just a straight factual comparison.

Some, however, are still not satisfied, and are always seeking to extend the durability of their suits to beyond the extremes.

____________________________

Hilda Lavre was standing on the edge of the ship in low orbit. One hand gripping an outer handle while engaged in final diagnostics.

"Alright, Hilda, everything looks green on our end, how 'bout you?"

"Same green green. I'm good."

"Whenever you're ready then. There's some clouds in the way of the predicted path, might slow you down a bit. Wanna wait?"

"Nah, nah. I'll wing it."

After a seconds pause, Hilda let go of the handle and gently kicked off the side of the ship. She was now on a direct collision course with the Atlantic Ocean.

.

.

.

(Thermals should start going up soon. I'm gonna turn on the external mic just a tad. There's just something about how the heat sounds scraping against the metal.

Oh, there it goes. Yellow, slowly getting to orange. Good.

Yea, that's a nice screech - burn that paint!

Halfway to red, altitude check. Already this close? Guess it'll be just shy of 80% tolerance.

Hehehehe, that means we can go for a bit faster next time. Cool.

Eh... wind without the heat just doesn't sound right, I'll turn it down to just barely audible. Something to keep me company.

Aaaand three.

Two.

One.)

SPLASH

.

.

.

(It's dark. But I guess it was dark before...

before what though?

Well, that's okay.

This feels like a new kind of dark though.

There's the dark when you're alone in your room at night, all the lights are out.

Another kind is when you decide to get inside your brothers closet to scare him when he comes back from the kitchen. That's a fun kind of dark. (it's getting cold)

There's also the dark of being in an underground bunker during a storm. Then the power gets cut and all the exits are sealed. That's a... lonely kind of dark.

One time I was wandering the woods, and before I knew it, it was the middle of a moonless night, overcast too. Hiding out in an abandoned shed, without even the wind or animal sounds to let you know anything is out there. I didn't like that kind of dark at all. (It's really cold)

This dark though... I dunno. It's like I'm hiding out in my own closet. My shoulder is up against my winter jacket, feet are grazing those old sandals I swore to throw out two summers ago. But also, it's not my room. Or even my house. Why am I in my closet? How did it get here? Where even is here?

I feel sleepy.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Hey, hey! Hilda! Wake up!"

*grunting* "Ugh... shut, shut up Barry..."

"Gods, don't freak us out like that. You okay?"

"Depends. How high did it go go?"

*laughter* "Okay, [She's fine everyone] yeah, you're fine. 87 meters, new record."

"Hmm, I was aiming to to break 90."

"Well, those clouds nudged you a little off, you hit it at a 83 degree angle. Still, those other readings are nice. I'm pretty sure we can do a boosted fall next time."

"Yeah, I I think so too. I feel a little little cold, did something break on hit hit?"

"Not break, but the impact did jolt the subsystems a bit. Activated one of the sedative shots. I manually made your suit give you a wake up shot right as I noticed. You should be feeling the effects right about now."

"Mmhhmmm, oh yea. I'm feeling the kick kick now. We need to improve the kinetic tic dampeners. No good if if it puts you to sleep upon any hard enough nough impact."

"Yup. We're suspending any other jumps for the week until we get that fixed and implement some minor tweaks based on your jump once we analyze the telemetry further.

Okay, everyone! Good job today! Let's meet up next weekend and test these bad boys out. Let's aim for a 100 meter splash by the end of the year!"

*cheers and yeahs as Barry opens a mini fridge and everyone cracks open a cold one*

[winxwannabe]

32. "Get on your knees." for Bloom and Valtor 😇

Remember when these were for NaNo in November? Yeah, me neither. ANYWAY:

It’s anger - so much anger.  At the world, at each other, and what they’ve become.

She has bruises down the inside of her thighs and bite marks on her neck she has to cover with makeup. Once when he’s on his stomach next to her she sees the raised scarlet lines of healing skin, and knows they’re the result of her nails. She’s taken to keeping them long ever since.

It’s painful, but a pain like worrying your tongue over a cut on the roof of your mouth. Bloom always swears this time, she’ll stop for good. There have been plenty of times Baltor’s thrown her out of Cloud Tower, screaming to never come back unless she wants to end up like Faragonda. Sometimes they manage to stay away from each other for several days. She even dreams about mundane things like school dances and homework.

The last time Bloom dreamed, she’d woken up to him in her bed at Alfea, one hand dipping between the waistband of her shorts while the other covered her mouth, keeping her gasps from waking anyone. She lost track of how many times she’d come that night, Baltor whispering praise into the skin of her shoulder.

It’s a vicious cycle of inflicting pain until it’s too much, and someone breaks and shows a morsel of compassion that the other takes. Then they get mad all over again because no, they can’t have compassion, not when this is happening.  It’s easier to watch a human smash into a concrete wall when you remember they ripped a section of hair from your skull two nights ago, not that they held you to their chest and moaned your name.

She thinks of Sky sometimes, when she’s alone. How open their relationship had been, before Diaspro reclaimed what was originally hers. How that, ironically, started this entire mess because Bloom had been desperate to get him back, no matter the cost. Only one man offers her a guarantee, for a very expensive price.

She pays it. Sky’s been free of dark magic for weeks now, Diaspro in a cell awaiting trial on Eraklyon.

Still, she comes back.

She’s been degraded, doesn’t know how many times Baltor’s told her to get on her knees in Griffin’s office or the sorcery lab. Sometimes she fights back, leaving him with a scar or an unusable potion because she’s swiped it off the counter to push him onto it. It’s almost better when she doesn’t, instead keeping her gaze locked onto his while mouthing the line of his cock through those ridiculously old fashioned pants. Those are the only nights she feels like she wins anything, that she might actually have a legitimate reason to keep doing this.

She doesn’t, though. Not really. She shouldn’t want a damn thing he offers her. Her family, friends, boyfriend - it should all be enough. It used to be. And the realization that it isn’t anymore infuriates her, starting the cycle over again.

There is no winning. There is only tiptoeing towards an invisible line that, when crossed, will change the trajectory of everything she’s known. She won’t walk so much as be dragged across it, clinging onto the half she wasn’t aware she had until months ago. The thought terrified her only months ago.

There are bags under her eyes, teeth marks on her collarbone, and fingerprints burned into the flesh of her hip like a pseudo-mark. She looks like she’s been in war, and in a twisted way she has.

The sun sets. The bustle of campus goes quiet. Her roommates go to sleep.

Bloom goes to Cloud Tower.

I wanted to write something but not any current WIPs. Here we are instead.

[winterspiderpurrs]

Pepper sighed as she exited the elevator to head toward the lab. About two hours ago, she received the notification she and Rhodey set up several years ago. Rhodey was already en route to the tower. Should be here in the next twenty minutes.

When the doors slid open to the lab, she found Tony sitting in a chair, hand deep into a robot, but his focus was on a projected screen in front of him. Looks like he was reading paged of book. When he tilts his head a certain way, the pages turn.

" Tony. What are you doing?"

" Nothing. Just reading"

" Uh huh. Then why did Friday notify me that you unblocked Peter's on the server"

" Hey! Big tattle tell Friday! Don't worry about it, Pep. It's been a while, and I heard from Brucie that Peter published another paper. And I just wanted to read it. "

" Don't start this up again Tony. You go down this rabbit hole its going to be like before"

" Have faith Pepper! I'm just reading a paper, I'm not asking him out."

" Again?"

Tony swirls around in his chair and faces Pepper.

" I can control myself!"

" Said that the last 3 times. This time isn't going to work. Just leave him be Tony"

" It's not going to be anything! His idea to use some nano tech in closing wounds is intriguing, but we would have to test that out. Lots more research. I could get a grant for him to explore it. "

" Tony!"

Pepper stomps her foot to get his attention before he goes off on a tangent. This is how it always goes with Peter and Tony.

See Tony met Peter when Peter was 18 and was doing a summer internship at the tower. They hit it off and started a whirlwind romance. And that's how it went.

Things would be great, then Peter would ask for more, and Tony would break up with him. They separate for a while. Peter does something that draws Tony back in, and they try to be friends and end up where they started.

It's not like Tony doesn't know that Peter knows himself in the ways of science. But it came to the relationship? The long haul? Tony wanted that, but Peter was just so young, so he kept pushing him away.

They have been doing this song and dance for years. The last break up was a year and a half ago.

And Peter left without a fuss this time. Simply packed up his bags, told Tony to stop contacting him til he grows up and figures out what he wants. But not wait for him cause he was absolutely done.

The doors open to the lab again and Rhodey walks out.

" i don't smell alcohol so Tony is still sober. Whats the emergency Pepper"

" PGMATDK Protocol "

" Shit okay. "

Tony blinks.

" Hey! Only I'm allowed to have acronyms!"

"Sure Tones. But brace yourself."

"What?"

Pepper sighs and looks to Rhodey before back to Tony.

" You've read just Peter's papers. Haven't researched into him again correct?"

Tony frowned and looked between the two.

" No just his published work..."

" Well I'm sorry that this is coming out but...Peter got married"

Tony stares at them before standing up and pacing.

" We have only been broken up a year and a half? When? To who? "

Tony spins around to look at them.

" Tell me it wasn't to that Strange guy"

" No he didn't marry Dr. Strange, someone else about a month ago.

Tony stares at them again before sitting down. Rhodey comes to stand next to him and puts his hand on his shoulder.

" I'm sorry Tony..."

They stayed like for a while before Tony whispered.

" Does he seem happy?"

" Don't open that box Tony. But... he does... yes."

Later that night Tony was looking up the photos.

[asbestos-boy-68]

post your phonepad headcanons be free

you don’t even KNOW what kind of beast you’ve unleashed. btw this is my second time writing this post because the first time i did um tumblr did an error when i tried to post it and i lost the whole thing 🤗 anything for phonepad

mephone is a ben folds fan who plays guitar. mepad is a they might be giants fan who plays piano. they would learn songs from each others fav artist for each other. also they’d jam together TRUST

fan and toilet are their biggest shippers. I CANT BE NUMBER 1 PHONEPAD SHIPPER BECAUSE THEY ARE💔💔

they’re so endgame. THEYRE SO MARRIED. they’d be the SWEETEST married couple everyone would think they were #couplegoals

toilet would be the best man at their wedding

also mephone would make their wedding song the luckiest by ben folds (typical millennial ben folds fan…)

mephone would NOT stfu abt the fact that he married mepad. he’d call him his husband ALL THE TIME even to people that full well knew mepad. like the contestants. he’d be like “so my HUSBAND said-“ and they’d all be like “WE KNOW WHO MEPAD IS BRO SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!”

whenever mephone would get upset mepad would cook any meal he wanted for him and then they’d cuddle and watch reality shows together to make him feel better

mepad cares for mephone like he’s getting paid. esp when he’s sick.

mephone would rant about mepad to floory during iii. floory would call him gay

similarly mepad would rant about mephone to taco after leaving the show, mostly about how much he missed him. taco would tell him to stfu and that mephone was a bitch

when mephone said that he didn’t trust him that hurt mepad like NOTHING else.

regarding mepad’s whole “emotionless” thing i think of it in a sort of yansim type way (WITHOUT THE WEIRDO YANDERE STUFF 💔) like… he doesn’t have feelings but around mephone he does. at least that’s how it’d be at first, but after a while he’d develop a full range of emotions that functioned whether or not he was with mephone. but at first it’d only be around him

mepad always keeps snacks on him for mephone. he knows all of his favorite snacks

mepad is the only person who can calm mephone down when he starts spiraling about cobs

when they’d get together mephone would try and hide their relationship because he’d be worried about cobs knowing and “what will the viewers think about this ?!” but he’d be so ass at it. everyone and their mom would know they were together

no one was surprised when they got together / told ppl they were together. literally NO ONE.

omg my bf said this but like… ok II16 SPOILER WARNING ‼️ anyways yk how some ppl have theorized that all of the contestants are different aspects of mephone’s personality?

mepad loves all of the contestants. HE LOVES EVERY PART OF MEPHONE IM GONNA THROW UP

after mepad left the show mephone would curse himself every day for not telling mepad he loved him sooner

the reason mephone saved mepad was half just because he didn’t want someone else to go through cobs’ abuse and half because he just felt…drawn to mepad. even before he’d started up for the first time mephone felt like the universe was pulling him towards mepad, like they were meant to be SOMETHING.

mepad would be so upset by the fact that mephone acted like he didn’t care when he left the show. he’d be going thru the 5 stages of grief, “did we mean nothing???” type shit

mephone would be so proud that he pulled mepad. he’d think mepad was so out of his league

humanized their height difference is 8 inches mepad is 6’4 mephone is 5’8

as parents mepad would be such a good dad and mephone would… not. but not in like an abusive cobs way in the way that he means the absolute best but he just has no idea what he’s doing. i have a ship kid for them it’s a 3rd gen ipod nano. mepod nano gen3 i love you

their song is “i only wanna be with you” by dusty springfield. that is the song they dance to together in the kitchen at 11:30pm

mephone is so genuinely and truly in love with mepad. he admires every little thing about him and thinks about him all the time.

he cried himself to sleep every night after mepad left and had to use all of his energy every day to not break down about it

mephone acts like a kid when he’s with mepad. he is fully himself, he lets his guard down and doesn’t worry about what he does and how it’ll look, because he knows mepad will love him either way

mepad makes sure that mephone wears nice outfits on camera. trust that during s1 his fits were NOT tippy top . there is a STARK contrast of pre- and post-mepad fits.

mepad doesn’t technically need to eat but whenever mephone bakes (he likes baking, he’s just straight ass at it) he will eat it and say that it’s good even if it’s not

mepad also learned how to cook for mephone

everything mephone does in front of mepad is an attempt to impress him. he wants mephone to think he’s as cool as he thinks he is.

mephone looks up to mepad SO much, he’s so many things he wishes he was and that he admires. maybe he can’t become those things but HE CAN DATE HIM SO CLOSE ENOUGH 😋🙂‍↕️🙏

mepad loves mephone so much i can’t UGEGHSEJWGEKAHD

this isn’t even the half of it bro i’m sure there’s some i forgot since i had to rewrite this + i have a lot more i didn’t write down

AND I DIDNT EVEN GET INTO MY PHONEPAD AU. I COULD MAKE A WHOOOOLE NOTHER POST ON THAT.

enjoy tho 😋 if i think of any more ill reblog w them. also anon if you wanna hear me yap about my phonepad au feel free to ask because i will GLADLY yap 😁

[hockybish]

Dance it Out

l au with no name l matt x posey l masterlist l

Summer 2010

"Matt, how much longer do I have to do this?" Posey stood up from her crouched over position. She had on some goalie gear they had found and was standing in front of a makeshift goal while Matt shot pucks at her.

“I gotta practice against a goalie, Posey. And you’re doing a really good job of standing there.” Matt squared up, ready to shoot another puck in her direction.

His coach really did say he did need more practice shooting with a goalie in the net versus an open net.

And Posey got to choose what they did last time she was over, so it was his turn and he chose to practice hockey. He always did what she wanted so she had to do the same for him.

“But I want to dance” she got in her stance. They had been at this for an hour and she was getting bored and didn’t want to do this anymore.

“We did that yesterday” Matt stuck his tongue out in concentration. He hit the chunk of plastic, it flew up and hit Posey in padding on her right leg. She kicked it back in his direction and got ready again.

“Please Matt?” Posey begged. The puck he just hit whizzed past her shoulder. She very unfazed by it. She had six brothers, five of whom played hockey, she was used to it.

“Fine five more shots and I get to pick the music” Posey shook head, making the mask she was wearing jiggle, agreeing to the deal.

Matt took more than five shots since Posey wasn’t really paying attention now that she was getting her way.

Once she was out of the gear, Posey brought out her new iPod nano and hooked it up to the speaker. She handed it over to Matt, he scrolled through, finding the playlist they were dancing to yesterday.

The way they were dancing it looked something out of peanuts. There was no real structure and it was all fun. Or at least that's what Matt's mom thought when looked in on them after she got done with her phone call. She turned off their music, abruptly ending the dance party.

“Matt honey can you please for find your sisters? I need to talk to Posey for a minute.” Janice instructed.

Matt and Posey looked at each other and back at his mother. She had this look on her face, and they knew she was being serious.

The boy hung his head and scurried out of the room. What was going on? Posey couldn’t help but feeling like she had done something wrong and they were going to send her home or to her grandma's.

"Posey darling, I have something very important I need to tell you okay? Let's sit on the couch here." Janice sat down on the sofa. She patted the spot next to her, waiting for Posey to climb up.

"Sweetie, your mommy and daddy were in an accident. And they unfortunately didn't make it. I'm really sorry."

"What?" Posey tilted her head confused. Her mommy and daddy were at work and were going to pick her up later, like they always did.

"Mariposa your parents died. I'm really sorry, sweetheart." The mother of three, repeated herself a bit more directly this time. There was no easy way to put it. She wrapped her arms around the stunned child.

"No! No! My mommy and daddy are not dead!" Posey screamed. She pushed Janice away, running out of the room and into the first room she could find with a door.

She yelled no one last time before she slammed it closed. The little girl then curled up in a ball and started crying. She just wanted to be alone.

-

“Hey Posey?” Matt knocked on her door.

It had been a month since her and her brothers had moved in with his family and he had been trying every single day to get her to play, but she never wanted to. Possibly today could be different.

“Do you maybe want to play?” He posed the same question. There was no response to his question. "You can shoot pucks at me, or maybe we can color."

"Can we dance?" Posey asked quietly.

"Only if I can I pick the music." He smiled jokingly.

[drkineildwicks]

More BH6

Been working more on the sequel to (Not So) Hated by Life Itself this past weekend (read it now on FFN and AO3), so have some more art for it.  For those of you just tuning in, the Live and Learn AU involves Obake accidentally being blasted back in time to a little before the events of the movie, as a teenager.  Shenanigans ensue, as they do.

This is one of those traditional art sheets where I fill a page out for my art for the day, polish it up, and then post it.  In this case, it’s all for the sequel, Ready To (Live Life Anew) and is mostly for the vibes.

Starting from the top left:

I learned that March was Noodle Month and it seems like the sort of thing Noodle Burger Boy would celebrate. XD

Mini-Max is always great for filling in a tiny bit of empty space.

Below that, Hiro and Tadashi were really excited to learn about the revival of the Pirates of the Caribbean Online MMO.  Obake is less excited.

To the right of that, Obake is quoting the “Cluelessness” demotivator to Hiro, punctuated by Fred quoting Louis Stevens in the Even Stevens episode “Snow Job” (quote starts here)—yes that is a very young Shia LeBeouf, and that one girl is Christie Carlson Ramono, AKA Kim Possible AKA Trina Aken.

To the right of that…was listening to some videos critiquing the Jurassic World series (as they should) and one guy was saying how genomes are not the same as genetic code…since Obake is taking a few Bio classes in the sequel it seems like the thing both he and Karmi would say, to everyone’s annoyance.

Below the PIRATES!! one is Gogo taking Obake out to birdwatch to wind them both down, something that probably takes place after the “Fate of the Roommates” episode when they’re on better terms.

To the right of that—the boys also have a writing class and Hiro has been writing about their escapades in the Pirates MMO for those assignments, here he’s brainstorming Obake’s backstory; Obake is unamused.

To the right of that is something that takes place in the “Supersonic Sue” episode—Obake and Megan have an antagonistic relationship for most of the fic and right here is right before that falling out starts up.

Bottom left takes place during the “Fred the Fugitive” arc—the Hamada brothers do up some Shadow the Hedgehog shoes for Obake to test, Gogo takes it upon herself to help him learn how to skate.

Bottom right is Hiro testing a combo of Knuckles’ and Vi’s gloves, although they require the nano-dex in order to lift them.

Bottom center…Trina does not need the nano-dex to lift those gauntlets. :O

So.  So far we’re at 381 pages, 155+k words, 27 consecutive chapters, somewhere between a third and halfway through, and I’m once again in the situation I was in last year when I suddenly had the big burst on the first book: stuck on my laptop in the living room because my big computer decided to go blooey.

Hit it.

Big Hero 6 © 2014 Disney

Done in Pencils.

DeviantArt | FanFiction | Tumblr | Etsy | Buy me a Ko-Fi | Patreon | AO3 | Tapas

[robokisser2000]

Deathsaurus x reader

[you’re a commander/second in command of his.] 

______________________________________________

Deathsaurus was staring again, as always. Whenever his optics landed on you, he had trouble just pulling away. He was,, entranced by you, per se.

Though whenever you turned your optics would catch his for a split nano klik before he would turn away, and act as if he wasn’t just caught staring. It was a game for you two, see who catches the other staring first.

On rare occasions your optics would lock with one another, your [O/C] optics locking with his vibrant ruby ones. Energon would flood to his faceplate, embarrassment flooding his energon lines as he would turn away from your playful stare.

Many of his soldiers took notice of your little ‘stare’ game, and honestly they wouldn’t really be surprised if you two did become a couple or let alone conjunx, they even started placing bets on it. You two are already amica’s, why not upgrade to enduras,,?

Deathsaurus had a keen optic, he was very observant and had good hearing. So of course these little quips and rumors caught his attention, nothing could get past him, not even your feelings.

______________________________________________

He considered making it official, maybe he could try at courting you, making a conjunx ritus, just for you. Deathsaurus knew what he felt was true, and maybe it was time for a change, a good change.

So it was no surprise when he suddenly waltzed into your chambers, his servo hidden behind his large build, shielding something from your optics gaze. After a klik of silence he shuddered out a sigh, finally speaking.

“I believe,, it’s time we spoke, about,, us.”

It came out softer and more quieter than he wanted, more shy and awkward. It was a polar contrast to how strict and commanding he is with his soldiers and subjects, he wanted to appear,, more trustworthy, to you.

You stopped what you were doing, setting down the small datapad and turning to face the large commander of the ‘war-world’, your attention was no focused solely on him, curious to what he wanted to say.

Deathsaurus’s pride faltered under your gaze, feeling a bit self-conscious on his appearance now that you were focused on him, on what he was going say.

“I believe we,, are simply more than just amica’s. We behave more like,, conjunx,, endura’s and I believe we,,, should,, should,,-“

He shuddered and grumbled something under his breath, he was never good with words, let alone confessions, he was never the one who did confessions- simply suitors were on it, wait,,, what if he read you wrong,,?

He pulled what was behind his back, extending his servo to you and handing you a small minuscule item. it was an emblem, it was as the size of your servos mechanical palm. The emblem was new, a beautiful brazen gold, like his accents, though it was a mere emblem of the beastformers. The emblem was of his rank, which is rare considering he’s the only one of his rank, unless…

“Are you,,, trying to conjunx me,,?”

It made sense, a lot of sense. Of course he was, why wouldn’t he be,,? He believed it was the right time, the best time to propose to you. You’ve been his closest comrade all these cycles, decades and more, he wanted to spend more time with you, but as more than a simple amica, he wanted to be your conjunx endura.

“Yes, yes I am.”

He stated proudly, taking in a breath as you took the emblem from his servo. He waited patiently for you to click it to your chassis, seeing if you’d accept his proposal or not.

His optics glimmered in surprise as you actually did, he watched, solely focused on your servo as you attached the golden emblem to your chassis. You accepted his proposal, that’s clear as day. Thing is,, what now? He didn’t think he’d,, well- get this far with you.

He gave a nod of approval, pleased you accepted his proposal. Now all that’s left to do is to conjunx ritus, the last step, the deal sealer.

He walked up to you, bending a bit so he could properly reach you. He extended his servos to you, holding your small ones in his large ones, intermingling his digits with yours.

“,,,shall we?”

He was curious, curious if you were ready. Being bonded to a Ex-warlord is a,, hefty job, he knows he’s not perfect, and that sometimes he’s very,, stand offish. But you never snapped at him, so did you truly want him,,? Crave him like he’s craved you for millennia,,?

“We shall.”

Those two words sounded more like a promise, a promise to him. He gave a curt nod and held you close, clicking open his chassis and exposing his spark to you. He patiently waited for you to open yours, always curious to what your spark looked like.

Once you clicked yours open, servos and panels retracting, Did he finally get to see your spark. It was beautiful, a vibrant orb of life, its color matched your (O/C) so of course it belonged to you. It radiated comfort and warmth.

The two of you watched as you held one another, your sparks intertwining beautifully, the sensation was unreal, warm and full of fondness for one another. The colors mixed, and twirled around the other.

After such an intimate moment your chassis’s retracted, locking back into place. You two felt as one, complete. You could feel his unyielding loyalty and love through such a bond, and he could feel your genuine care and affection through yours.

He let out a breath he was holding, now bonded to someone- not just someone, you. His ruby optics glanced down at you, eyeing you with fondness and utmost care.

“Was that,,, alright?”

He asked softly, his voice box still gravelly and rough. He wanted to know if he did it right, wanting to be sure you were one now.

You gave a gentle nod, flashing a smile as you excitedly shook his servos. You two were a couple now! From now on until eternity! You were excited for this shared future, a future with your lover!

“It was,,, amazing! I can’t believe it! We- we’re one now!-“

You couldn’t help but squeal, catching the old warlord off guard. He smiled down at you, glad and overjoyed about how well such an intimate moment went. You were very enthusiastic of it, and he couldn’t help but join in on such an attitude.

______________________________________________

Deathsaurus strutted down the corridors of the fortress, broad and proud. You walked by his side, your arm clung to his, the two of you being official now. Loving gazes sent to one another, nearby soldiers gawked at the sight, many surprised and some confused.

A nearby soldier grunted in distaste and dug through his chamber, flicking Shanix over to a fellow soldier, said soldier was full of glee, eagerly stuffing away the Shanix, proud he won such a bet.

______________________________________________

👉👈I really love him and…

[nanowrimo]

How to Set Realistic NaNoWriMo Goals

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Dabble, a 2023 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is a tool specifically designed for fiction novelists. Today, Dabbler Robert Smith shares a few tips to help you set daily writing goals that will work for you:

November looms, and with it the thrilling, harrowing, and sometimes carb-loaded journey of National Novel Writing Month. As we tie our writer's capes and ready ourselves for a month of intense creation, there's a small matter we need to address: our writing goals.

The Weight of 50,000 Words

Setting goals for NaNoWriMo is like setting a pace for a marathon. You wouldn't expect to sprint a marathon. The same goes for writing. If you try to sprint through, chances are you'll burn out faster than a candle in a windstorm.

However, only doing the minimum can leave you in a precarious position. Because if something comes up—and something always comes up—you’re suddenly behind on your goal, and that can really hurt morale.

So here are some goal setting tips to crush NaNoWriMo this year:

1. Start off strong, so you can end strong.

There is a simple fact about motivation. It starts strong and wanes with time. 

Now to be honest, you won’t be able to write a book with motivation alone. It requires a lot of discipline, and you’ll have to write even when you don’t feel like it.

But a great way to get the most out of that early motivation is to channel it into higher early output.

We all know that 50,000 words split over 30 days is 1667 words a day. But authors who win NaNoWriMo often don’t start there. They shoot for 2,500-3,000 words a day in the first week. That way they build up a buffer for the later weeks where motivation isn’t as high.

Plus, it gives them great forward momentum on their project. So consider setting higher goals early and taking advantage of your early NaNo fervor.

2. Account for daily life.

Even if you've cleared your calendar for November, life has a knack for throwing curveballs. 

Kids get sick. Work projects pop up. You know what I mean. If your word count goal is teetering on the edge of feasibility, any small disturbance can throw it off. 

To combat this, make plans and backup plans. Schedule your writing time around family gatherings. Plan what happens if you miss a day. Set yourself up for success before those situations arise.

3. Use the buddy system.

Find a writing buddy to be accountable to. It could be a friend participating in NaNoWriMo, or even someone you connect with in the NaNo community. 

Check in with each other daily. Celebrate your wins, commiserate over the tricky bits, and hold each other accountable. 

Sometimes, knowing someone else is in the trenches with you can be incredibly motivating.

4. Have weekly check-ins.

Instead of focusing solely on daily targets, also have a weekly goal. This gives you a broader view and allows for some flexibility. If you have a slower day, you can make up for it later in the week without feeling like you've thrown the entire month off course.

5. Actually track your goals.

Obviously, you need to track your goals, but there are multiple ways to do it.

Dabble integrates with NaNoWriMo, so you don’t have to manually submit your word count. And if you fall behind a bit, Dabble will automatically adjust your daily goal accordingly to keep you on track.

But even if you’re just marking off your goals on a napkin at your desk, tracking your progress will help you stay the course to victory.

Now go forth, share your stories, and remember: it's not all about the word count; it's about the words that count.

All NaNoWriMo participants can use the discount code  NANOWRI2023 for 20% off 1 year of Dabble! Offer expires January 31, 2024.

Robert Smith is a Dabbling Writer, and a Writing Dabbler. He likes playing board games with his wife, and deconstructing plots from movies in his spare time.

Top Photo by Isaac Smith on Unsplash.

[shiki-aki]

By narrative choice, why do you think most of the route have Akira not witnessing Keisuke's death (No way Keisuke lived after that)? Like why it always with Shiki or Nano (a bastard (affectionate) and a bastard), not with Rin or Motomi?

Rin would less likely to help him, thought but for Motomi, I think it's a good set up, I just don't know why the team never did that 🤔

I just realise n+c like to leave Akira to the wolf, not that im complaining, esp if he end up with Shiki 👉👈

hiii thanks for the ask!! ❤️

I'll break down my thoughts into several points:

Why doesn't Akira witness Keisuke's death in Motomi's or Rin's routes?

Because Akira's character arc in those routes revolve around him learning to be a more emotionally and socially well-adjusted person, lol. After Akira sees Keisuke run off, he still clings onto the vain hope that he can mend his relationship with Keisuke as long as Keisuke is alive. This leads into Akira learning to communicate more with Motomi because his lack of communication is what caused the conflict with Keisuke. (I personally take issue with this narrative framing because it ignores Keisuke's agency and puts the blame solely on Akira for why their friendship failed, but that's how the game frames it.)

With Rin, Akira decides to take care of him because he doesn't want to essentially have a repeat of the conflict with Keisuke (he didn't care about Keisuke and look what happened, so now Akira tries to make an effort to care about Rin). In both routes, Akira comes to the implicit understanding later on that Keisuke is most likely dead, but he doesn't lose his will to live over that because he has Motomi/Rin by his side.

Why does Akira witness Keisuke's death in Shiki's route?

Because Shiki's route is the one that explores what life and death means and the difference between the two, and Akira's character arc revolves around him developing a strong will to live. We see at the start of the game how Akira has neither the will to live nor die, and only in his interactions with Shiki does he start possibly developing the resolve to live. He tells Shiki to kill him because he doesn't want to submit/beg for his life, but Akira also tries to resist death when push comes to shove because he doesn't want to die a death where the circumstances are out of his control.

When Akira sees Keisuke die right in front of him, he has to deal with the harrowing fact that it was his own blood that killed him. Akira was already shaken up from his previous encounters with Rein addicts/Takeru because he saw what his blood did to them, so it was the final nail in the coffin when the same thing happened to Keisuke, because it made Akira realize that there's something wrong with him. Following this, Akira becomes suicidal for the first time in his life and wants Shiki to kill him, because he thinks of his own existence/his blood as cursed, and that it would be better if he was dead.

But Shiki doesn't kill him. Instead, he kidnaps Akira and claims ownership over him, and after Akira realizes that Shiki isn't going to kill him, he begins regaining his resolve to resist Shiki. Shiki essentially brings back Akira's will to live and builds him back up to be even stronger than before lol. Akira tells Shiki that he follows his own will and that "everyone dies someday; I just can't stand the thought of being under someone's thumb" (very rough paraphrasing by me), which is why he's not afraid of death and will continue resisting Shiki no matter what. Shiki's route is all about Akira becoming a more willful person, because Akira at the start of the game didn't have the will to do anything... at all.

In the True Blood version of the game, Akira also doesn't see Keisuke die in Shiki's route. Instead he sees Keisuke run off (just like in Motomi's and Rin's routes), and then you actually get a new choice. If Akira submits to Shiki, Shiki will kidnap Akira and it will lead to a bad end with Akira being held captive. But if he resists, then Shiki will leave Akira alone, and the route will continue. Akira makes the decision afterward to collect tags and takedown Il Re as his personal goal, because Rein is the whole reason why Keisuke turned like this in the first place. Later on in the route, Akira understands that Keisuke is most likely dead, but Akira is still determined to challenge Il Re as his way of atoning for Keisuke's death.

SORRY THIS TURNED OUT SO LONG WINDED but I feel like there's multiple factors involved (off the top of my head) for why Akira sees Keisuke die in Shiki's route lol

1) Because it fits in with the narrative themes in Shiki's route, and by proxy, Akira's character conflict (what's the difference between life and death, what could one hope to accomplish by staying alive, is death not just the cessation of function?). Akira wants to die after accidentally causing his own friend's death, but after Shiki forces him to live, Akira instead regains his resolve to live and lives for the sake of defying Shiki.

2) Because it homes in on Akira's identity crisis with regards to his cursed blood, which is brought up again later on in Shiki's tunnel scene. Akira starts to doubt the reason for his own existence because he sees how his blood causes harm wherever he goes, but Shiki tells him that Akira is still Akira to him ("You're mine. That's all there is to it.")

3) It strengthens Akira's character development in Shiki's route, because we see the contrast in how he goes from being at the absolute lowest point in his life (Akira is actively suicidal during the Keisuke death scene and doesn't even have the will to get up or move; he doesn't care what happens to him anymore), to actively clinging onto his autonomy and developing this mindset of following his own will/obeying no one but himself.

Why does Keisuke die in Nano's route?

Straight up? Hot take: they needed Keisuke to die because Akira wouldn't have ended up with Nano if Keisuke was still alive lmao. Nano's route does a terrible job at setting up the romantic chemistry between Akira and Nano. Akira, during the entirety of Nano's route, is way more focused on finding and saving Keisuke. He just chills with Nano here and there for plot reasons (yeah makes perfect sense for Akira to just sit in a movie theater with some guy he barely knows when Akira is the type to be a lone wolf), but it's very clear that Akira's goal is making it out of Toshima with Keisuke and Nano isn't even really on his mind that much.

So they killed Keisuke off. If Keisuke was still alive in Nano's route, it's very likely that Akira would have ended up in a relationship with Keisuke instead, leaving Nano to be by his lonesome self lol. So with Keisuke out of the picture, now Akira is forced to leave Toshima with Nano because he has no one else with him. (Oh and that totally shoehorned scene with Nano suddenly regaining his emotions because he saw Akira crying for Keisuke. Not forced at all...)

This is the only time I'll ever feel sorry for Keisuke lol, because his death here wasn't a consequence of his own actions. His death in Nano's route was completely unnecessary and was only there for the sake of making sure Akira ended up with Nano instead. Besides, there was no way Keisuke would've gotten a happy ending in Nano's route even if he did survive, because he'd end up depressed if Akira fell in love with Nano lol.

YEAH SORRY THIS WAS LONG and rambly, typed this up in like half an hour but those are my thoughts!! ty for the ask as always :3! ❤️and I'll respond to your other ask once I get home ^w^