#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.

[mirrorball-leclerc]

track seven - i don't regret it one bit, 'cause he had it coming

series masterlist

WINTER BREAK 2023

ines_alonso, oscarpiastri, and charles_leclerc posted new stories

last night's gingerbread houses, 3 guesses which one's mine babysitting duties today 😁 watching bluey because according to the kiddos it's the show that reminds them of danielricciardo, for the record he does give off bandit energy, so i agree petite fraise is very happy at the alonso-leclerc-piastri home gotham's greatest protector is so cute, villains tremble before him

liked by lilymhe, francesca.cgomes, kellypiquet and others

ines_alonso first year hosting in the alonso-leclerc-piastri home this year in spain next year its monaco, trust me. p.s. charles is officially banned from stepping foot in our kitchen.

tagged: charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, fernandoalo_oficial

view all comments

maxverstappen1 oh my god, what the hell did he do this time?

oscarpiastri the firefighters were involved this time max, that's all you need to know charles_leclerc okay, you people are being dramatic and i am not being dramatic ines_alonso THE OVEN WAS ON FIRE! THERE WERE FLAMES CHARLES! charles_leclerc you're being dramatic, there was no fire oscarpiastri the firemen laughed at you charles, there was a fire.

user1 two cats and charles leclerc? how the hell do they manage?

oscarpiastri i ask myself that same question every day charles_leclerc fuck you, i'm a delight ines_alonso except when we have to call the firemen because someone lit the oven on fire BAKING COOKIES!

user2 the matching pjs and slippers?? oh i'm in love with this trio

user3 inés, how did you convince them to get matching pjs and slippers?? i need tips on how to convince my partner

ines_alonso threaten to withhold sex, it does wonders user3 why didn't i think of that? fernandoalo_oficial i can read this... charles_leclerc what's sex? never heard that word in my life 😅 oscarpiastri what is this sex she speaks of?? fernandoalo_oficial watch your backs going into turn 1 in bahrain user4 peepaw, stop causing controversies, this is why they call you a war criminal

francesca.cgomes marry me and make me delicious treats??

ines_alonso meet me at the courthouse tomorrow?? pierregasly absolutely not! oscarpiastri now i'm thinking we should've had you and kika get fake married instead of charles and max charles_leclerc why are you always feeding into this shit? oscarpiastri why not?

user5 she has style and yet her partners always dress in the same skinny jeans and shorts

user6 oscar needs to step up his fashion style user7 charles needs to wear something that isn't those fuckass tiedye jeans user5 those jeans are a horror to humanity

alex_albon there is not a single thought behind those eyes, just like oscar

oscarpiastri stop slandering my name alex_albon tell your girlfriend to stop flirting with mine and i'll stop oscarpiastri carry on, there's no use in me telling her, she'll never stop

user5 nano living up to the chaos of fernando alonso

user6 i bet he knocked down the tree ines_alonso he did and the charles scolded him, it was quite hilarious to see

georgerussell63 why does honey always look like that?

ines_alonso like what? georgerussell63 lost charles_leclerc she gets it from her father oscarpiastri fuck you, she gets it from you georgerussell63 this was not about either one of you but i fear i may have just started a war

jensonbutton the wife is demanding to know where you got those slippers from

ines_alonso i'll send her the link in exchange for pictures of you in them! brittnybutton deal! ines_alonso pleasure doing business with you mrs.button

ximena.gomez nice holiday?

ines_alonso i'm still mad at you but they're at each other's throats ximena, help me. pierregasly at each other's throats or in each other's throats? ines_alonso blocked and reported.

user8 wait, so they did get a place in spain?

user9 it looks like they did but it could be a rental for the holiday season? user10 honestly, i would love it they got a place in spain because that would mean the s*inz mafia can't get away from them even in spain use8 they can't get away from them even in sp

user11 honestly can't tell who i'm supposed to be more jealous of, inés for having two hot boyfriends or charles and oscar for dating inés

user12 charles and oscar because they have inés. i mean who gets jealous over the men? user13 all three?? user11 i think all three is the only right choice

FEBRUARY 1ST, 2024 AKA DIVORCEGATE

FEBRUARY 7TH, 2024 AKA GASLIGHT, GATEKEEP, GIRLBOSS

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, fernandoalo_oficial and others

ines_alonso i've always looked good in navy 💙

tagged: redbullracing

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charles_leclerc words cannot describe how proud we are of you mon soleil. looking forward to racing against you next year! ❤ by ines_alonso

oscarpiastri so excited to be racing against you again sunshine. i can't believe we finally get to share the same tracks again, looking forward to it! ❤ by ines_alonso

patriciooward felicitaciones hermana! this is what you deserve and so much more, i can't wait to see what you do on the track! ❤ by ines_alonso

alex_albon INÉS JESSICA ALONSO, HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US?!

ines_alonso my middle name is not jessica alex_albon I DON'T CARE! HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME, YOUR BEST FRIEND?? AND I FUCKING BET MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN KNEW! maxverstappen1 I HAVE AN NDA YOU DIMWIT?! alex_albon I DON'T CARE?! THIS IS THE SHIT WE TELL EACH OTHER!!

fernandoalo_oficial no hay suficientes palabras para describir lo orgulloso que estoy de ti. te mereces esto y todo lo bueno que hay en tu vida. [translation: there are not enough words to describe how proud i am of you. you deserve this and everything else that is good in your life] ❤ by ines_alonso

ines_alonso papa, voy a llorar fernandoalo_oficial it's okay, i'm crying too

jensonbutton going to miss one of my favorite co-hosts, who else will help me terrorize the evil woman?? but congratulations baby alonso, glad your dream finally came true. ❤ by ines_alonso

ines_alonso it's okay jenson, we can terrorize her post race together, i promise. and thank you, it means a lot 🥹

isahernaez felicitaciones pequeña!! te lo mereces, no dejes que nadie te diga algo diferente! [translation: congrats little one!! you deserve it, don't let anyone tell you anything different] ❤ by ines_alonso

ines_alonso gracias isa! espero verte en una carrera pronto! [translation: thank you isa! i hope to see you at a race soon] isahernaez obvio! nadamas dime cuando y ahí estoy, tengo que apoyar a mi pilota favorita [obviously! tell when and i'll be there, i have to support my favorite driver] userxx i love the survived carlos sainz jr club ❤ by ines_alonso and isahernaez

sabrinacarpenter CONGRATULATIONS!!!

ines_alonso THANK YOU!!!

user14 wait, so who's the wag now?

oscarpiastri we're both her wags charles_leclerc we're just ken and she's everything user14 down bad, both of you

louieee BITCH?! HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME?!

ines_alonso I'M SORRY BABY!! I COULDN'T TELL YOU!! louieee I'M SO PROUD OF YOU BABY!! YOU DESERVE THIS AND EVERYTHING GOOD IN LIFE!!

carlossainz55 wow, what a way to stab your own brother in the back

ines_alonso womp womp oscarpiastri womp womp charles_leclerc womp womp maxverstappen1 womp womp louieee womp womp patriciooward womp womp fernandoalo_oficial womp womp alex_albon womp womp jensonbutton womp womp logansargeant womp womp aussiegrit womp womp pierregasly womp womp sebastianvettel womp womp lewishamilton womp womp kimimatiasraikkonen womp womp user15 KIMI? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!

redbullracing looking forward to working with you in 2025! ❤ by ines_alonso

user16 SHUT THE FUCK UP?! RED BULL RACING JUST EARNED A NEW FAN!!

user17 carlos sainz jr found screaming and throwing up in a ditch somewhere

schecoperez felicitaciones baby alonso!!

ines_alonso gracias checo!

taylorswift congrats little alonso 💙 ❤ by ines_alonso

ines_alonso I'M RACING WITH THE NUMBER 13 MOTHER!! patriciooward i'm begging you, be normal for once taylorswift that's a great number to pick 😉

user18 i bet oscar and charles are glad to have red bull in the house without seeming like traitors for going out and buying it

user19 bestie, what the fuck does that mean? user18 oscar once said he doesn't like monster but he does drink another energy drink (red bull i'm guessing) and charles just seems like he's hopped up on red bull 80% of the time. user20 those bitches love to drink red bull and you can't convince me otherwise

tkelce congrats inés and good luck next year!

ines_alonso i might be freaking out a little bit right about now but thank you! danielricciardo no inés, you must stand strong, go bills! ines_alonso i'm so sorry mr. kelce but my loyalties align with the honey badger tkelce okay? user21 nothing is better than someone like travis kelce getting involved in the world of formula 1 because these people are insane and he's not ready for their chaos.

kellypiquet congratulations, looking forward to spending time with you in the garage next year 🩷

ines_alonso thank you kelly, looking forward to terrorizing max with p 🩷 maxverstappen1 p does not terrorize me, you and alex on the other hand... alex_albon okay, so find other friends bitch. oh that's right, you can't!

pedri felicitaciones!!

ines_alonso gracias pedri!!

user22 all these people congratulating inés because it's what she deserves is making me tear up a little bit.

aussiegrit congratulations inés, there's no doubt you'll do amazing.

ines_alonso be honest, is oscar holding you at gun point? aussiegrit they're going to think i hate you ines_alonso jury's still out to be honest

lewishamilton it'll be an honor to share the track with you inés

ines_alonso thank you lewis, that means a lot coming from you

nicorosberg make sure you terrorize max for me

ines_alonso will do britney 🫡 maxverstappen1 i will wipe the floor with her nicorosberg i will destroy you on sky sports and will tell fernando exaggerating lies that you said about inés ines_alonso i just sit back and giggle at this chaos

danielricciardo make me proud baby alonso!

ines_alonso always honey badger user23 and this one goes to all the haters who were saying what about daniel? clearly he was aware of this and is fine with it. y'all are just misogynistic.

eliasowens congratulations kid, i might give you a lot of shit for stealing my kids but you deserve this, don't let lord voldemort ruin this for you

ines_alonso elias, i love your kids, jury's still out on you but thanks. eliasowens you suck sometimes inés

¡taglist!

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¡leclerc-s speaks!

𝜗𝜚 i hope all of you that celebrate christmas had a great one, this was originally supposed to go up yesterday but i forgot to post it.

𝜗𝜚 and yes, this is 100% what the poll i posted ages ago was about, so writing this part, that deals with 2024 preseason is insane to me because the 2024 season was just so chaotic and heartbreaking. i am so not ready to write out logan and daniel's departures, even writing this part knowing what i know about daniel and red bull breaks my heart. plus even though it's a fanfic i don't feel good about this plot point and me just blatantly putting yuki to the side this way. i know why he didn't get the red bull seat but i have every right to be upset about it either way and i will be for a while.

¡disclaimer! 𝜗𝜚 this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[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!"

[adrixivy]

PeteI definitely does Insta live. Like we know he did a vlog during the deleted scenes and it was him partying with random people on a rooftop. And he taped his phone to his chest because he’s a highschooler who loves to D.I.Y and makes his own stuff (mainly because he’s broke) and he can’t swing with one arm so taped to the chest it is

He definitely has an Instagram account (ThatFunnyFriendlyNeighbourhoodWebslinger) where he goes live for a while as he swings through New York and basically talks to himself cuz he can’t see the comments. People who usually tune in simply listen to him ramble about basically anything because he makes it sound hilarious or he’ll talk about something that happened off camera and complain in the most unserious way people find him funny.

Peter after being run over by a flock of birds and he was blinded and slammed against a signboard: Like damn, no ‘sorry’?? I was minding my own business too!

Peter rambling about something he thought about randomly in class earlier: Guys, if I stole a helmet from one of Mr Stark’s suits, do you think he would notice it? I don’t know if I can say this but he has plenty of suits. I feel like if I took one of his helmets and change the protocol, hell maybe even add a mustache, his sleep deprived ass wouldn’t notice. Oh my god, imagine what I can do with his nano tech suit! I could change-

Peter gets a call from Tony and an “Oh snap!” was last heard from the live before it ended. He picks up the face time call to see an offended Tony deflecting everything he said on his live because he was also listening in and Tony was pointing at the camera as he kept going on and on about Peter not allowed anywhere near his suits anymore and maybe even the lab which Tony was obviously joking and Peter took it seriously that even with the mask on, Tony could see his upset face with his moving lenses and sad puppy noises. Tony obviously makes up for it by letting him input his own stuff into one of his old suits

There are times also where his live suddenly cuts off with a yelp or a scream because he just encountered thugs and they started coming at him that he has to immediately hide his phone as he does not need a broken phone right now, therefore ending the stream.

Peter halfway through a complaint: Then they were like, you should bring your own paper if you can bring a pen. Woman, I simply wanted to leave a note so that-*gunshots sounds in the background* OH SHOOT! *live ends*

Other than simply listening into his live, some of his fans makes compilation of certain moments in his lives.

‘Spidey’s complaints compilation’

‘Spidey’s funny rambles’

‘Spidey’s perfect cut-off screams’

And Peter watches every single one of them, always laughing his ass off as he recalls the day. He always liked the videos and sometimes leave comments too. He watches them with the team sometimes and they all have fun watching him, especially the parts where he plans to do his own adjustments to Tony’s stuff which makes the older man raise a brow at his kid who was claiming that he was joking then(He was not joking)

Oh and I forget to add, he always has a few hundred thousand people listening in because at most, he does lives two times a week only. His highest view count was a million people and he honestly panicked

[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.

[uselesseaweedbrain]

Supercorptober - 14. Chill

Lena had knocked on Kara’s door, begging for help, and Kara had opened. Lena had stayed, and Kara had listened.

They had made a plan, to corner Lex and Leviathan - it would work, this time, and then maybe they could, too.

Lena had toiled in her hidden laboratory, away from Lex’s prying eyes, and she had built herself an armour - nano-bots, the swarm enveloping her in a full body-suit that rivalled (eclipsed) the Lexo-suit.

When Kara and the Super-friends confronted Lex, Lena was there, clad in her armour. 

When Nia’s gun sputtered, Lena was there.

When the Kryptonite fell out of its chamber, and Kara’s veins filled with green, Lena was there.

Lena was there, too, as Alex stood, loaded it in her own gun, aimed, and fired at Lex.

Lena was there as her brother got hit and Kara got up, Kryptonite still pulsing in her veins. 

Lena was there when Lex got up, unharmed but no longer immortal; and smirked.

Lex, who had been shot, and utterly beaten, was smirking, one arm hidden behind his back.

Lena knew her brother better than anyone. He was hiding something, another trick up his sleeve, something they hadn’t seen coming-

Lena didn’t blink.

Lena didn't blink, but somehow she missed it - the moment Kara stepped in front of her.

Supergirl was just there, suddenly, without warning, a shield and a buffer, between Lena and whatever Lex had planned.

But then again- hadn’t Kara always done that?

Oh.

Realisation hit Lena like a knife in the chest.

No. No, no, no- 

"Goodbye, Supergirl.” Lex’s smile widened. “Good riddance!”

Lex pressed his thumb against the side of his latest toy.

Lena lifted her arm to fire.

Too late.

The Phantom Zone Projector whirred to life, Lena’s laser still captive in her suit.

Time slowed to a stop as the Projector cast an eerie azure light on them all, pointing directly at Kara, everyone else frozen still-

Lena wanted to scream, to move, to push Kara out of the way- but none of her members were responding, and all she could do was watch, in slow-motion, as the chill and the blue retreated and sucked Kara away with them.

Not Kara, not her, not Kara, please-

The superhero was already becoming translucent, intangible and out of reach, soon forever lost to the world, soon prisoner of her worst nightmare-

And Lena couldn’t move.

Not her, not again-

It should have been me.

“Kara!” Lena yelled; all that came out was a murmur, her vocal chords numb.

Still, Kara heard. Kara turned, her muscles struggling as she fought to resist the pull, a resolute smile painted across her lips-

I love you, she mouthed. The sound didn’t reach; the words did.

Assuredly, this wasn’t real- Time wouldn’t have stopped just for them, just for Lena, and Kara wouldn’t have fought just to say that, and, most importantly- Kara didn’t love her.

But if this was real- 

Lena wasn’t taking any chances.

“Take me with you”, she demanded, because they couldn’t end like this, wouldn’t, when they hadn’t even started.

Lena could see Kara’s neck muscles, taut with tension, her jaw clenched and her tendons strained, yet Kara managed a slight shake of the head and the beginning of her signature smile before she turned back, visibly trembling from exhaustion-

“Kara!” Lena screamed. Her voice worked this time, golden tendrils in her throat and a pulsing light in her veins.

Lena reached out, and the gold stretched out as if to hold Kara back, wrapping around her hand like an intangible lifeline.

Too late, again.

Time had resumed, and the portal had closed, severing all ties between Kara and Earth forever - all of them, but the golden string still tied around Lena’s finger.

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

Ever since, Lena had worked relentlessly to bring Kara back, barely sleeping, stopping only on the verge of exhaustion.

The Super-friends thought it was her guilt, prompting her, and it assuredly played a part, but-

There was this stubborn pull on her index finger, this golden string that no one else could see-

And ever since Kara had been sucked through to the Phantom Zone, Lena could hear her in her head.

Hear her in snippets, hear her beg for mercy, hear her yell her name, and Alex’s, and others’, in a desperate cry. 

Hear Kara talk to her directly, sometimes.

It should have been impossible. It was driving Lena crazy, crazier- 

It's cold, Lena. So cold. I didn't think I would ever be back here.

And sometimes Lena would catch herself answering back, because- if she couldn't soothe Kara, the real one- maybe she could at least make do with the imaginary voice in her head. 

You'll be okay, Kara. I promise. I'll bring you back, whatever it takes. I'll bring you back.

I believe you, imaginary Kara would say. 

Why? Lena would ask, foolishly - wasn’t she just talking to herself?

I’ve always believed in you, Lena.

How could it be exactly Kara's voice? Exactly Supergirl's shade of hope?

Lena didn’t know, couldn’t explain it, but if every Luthor was destined to go mad, Lena decided - Kara’s voice damning her was a mercy.

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

There were dreams, too, or- nightmares. 

Lena had had nightmares through the years, Lillian's cold smiles, Lionel's drunk tantrums, Lex going mad, Eve's betrayal, Adam's death, Kara wearing Lex's smile as she came clean, her mother dying-

She'd had nightmares through the years, but none like these. None where the emotions felt foreign but all the same familiar, none where she was extraordinarily affected yet not at all in control.

None where she watched herself die.

Lena feared many things - hubris, madness, abandonment -, but death wasn't one of them.

Yet there was a new voice in her head, and a new pull on her finger, and a newfound terror in her heart as she watched herself from the eyes of another, dying, over, and over, and over again. 

Lena had never cared about her own safety before. This time, though, unexplainably, watching herself die was like being skewered through the heart-

She just wanted to make it stop.

She saw her own lifeless body on the floors of CatCo, saw herself be carried in strong arms, saw Alex try to revive her, felt her own (was it her own?) despair and fear as the-one-who-was-her-but-wasn’t blowed gently on her limp body to lower her temperature.

She saw herself again, be thrown against the ground by Metallo, felt green creep into her (not hers, but then why did she feel the burn so clearly?) veins, her helpless, agonising body too weak to move.

"Don't hurt her!”, she-who-wasn’t-she screamed - her voice foreign, yet all too familiar. Kara. Why do I have Kara’s voice?

Lena saw herself in situations that seemed invented, too- she gazed at herself in a Metallo suit, her heart beating green and her face expressionless as she - as Lena - blasted the-body-she-shared-with-dream-Kara  with concentrated Kryptonite. 

"I'm sorry", their body said in Kara’s voice again, still gazing at unforgiving green, but they didn't fight, didn't try to get up, relief and pain overwhelming them before unconsciousness took over.

She saw herself with blonde children with green eyes, high cheekbones, running on the shore of a planet that was decidedly not Earth, saw a statue of herself in a lab coat on the main plaza - Lena Luthor, saviour of Argo, the plaque read.

Saw the planet erupt into flames and their world dissolve into nothingness and heard Kara’s voice-

Not again, please, not again- Rao- not them- not Lena, not them-

And then Lena inescapably woke up with a gasp, a scream stuck in her throat and her heart beating into overdrive-

A voice in her head calling her name.

Lena? Lena! Lena, please tell me you’re alive, please tell me this wasn’t real, Lena-

I’m here, she’d inevitably answer. This wasn’t real, Kara. It was just a nightmare.

This wasn’t real. This was just a nightmare, Kara, I promise. And Lena would repeat these words like a mantra, on a loop, forever, if it meant imaginary Kara would believe them.

Eventually, imaginary Kara did, the ache in Lena’s chest subsiding - and the throbbing on her index finger fading away.

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

It took Lena a while to figure out that the dreams weren’t hers, the fears weren’t hers, the voice in her head wasn’t hers.

Regardless, the realisation hadn’t helped.

Lena didn’t understand and didn’t want to try, lest she discovered that there was nothing to understand but obsession, guilt, and her slow descent into madness. 

So Lena doubled down on the science, working restlessly until she finalised the Q-wave detector and called Alex to her side. 

“Alex. I think I found a way to bring her home.” 

Hope filled Lena’s voice as she exposed her strategy to Alex, minutely explaining every detail with more enthusiasm than she’d shown in months. Her plan could work. It could work - it was the only tangible plan they’d had in weeks, and Lena was ecstatic. 

“There’s just one thing,” she finished. “I am going to need a piece of Kara to bring her back. Something to trace her, to identify her, to calibrate the Q-wave detector.”

Wordlessly, Alex handed her the crystal she’d been toying with for weeks.

Lena gawked.

“This crystal contains Kara’s digital signature. I want you to use it to find her.”

Alex’s hand was still hanging in the air as Lena shook her head in disbelief.

“I’m hopeful I can find her, but, there are no guarantees, Alex, and, if I use it- you’ll lose the recording forever-“

Alex presses it into her palm, and Lena gapes at the certainty in the agent’s gaze.

“I trust you, Lena.”

Of course she does, Kara’s voice echoes. I did, too. Even if I was terrible at showing it.

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

Lena’s success had been short-lived, Alex tearing her heart - both their hearts - to shreds before Lena could even celebrate.

Because the city was in danger. Because “Kara would have picked others before herself“. Because Alex wouldn’t do that to her sister, letting thousands die to save her. 

But Lena wasn’t Kara, Lena wasn’t Alex, Lena was selfish and she would-

The device flew out of her hand and into Alex’s, the agent’s guilty eyes her only apology.

I’m sorry, Kara, I’m so sorry, she took it, and now- 

Lena’s despair must have seeped through the cracks because imaginary Kara’s elusive voice answered immediately.

It’s okay, Lena. It’s okay. You did the right thing, you both did the right thing. 

But you- you’re still stuck there, Kara! While we’re saving thousands of people we’re letting you suffer in this horrible place-

I’ll be okay, Lena. Just- please, don’t leave me. Don’t leave me again.

Lena doesn’t have any idea how she could be leaving a voice in her head behind, but even if she could-

I wouldn’t dream of it.

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

Alex had saved the city, with Lena’s creation and Kara’s last hope.

“There’s always another way, Lena. Kara taught us that”, she’d lectured - Lena had scoffed at the empty reassurance and raged at the denial, resentment burning like acid in her throat at the utilitarian choice, because- 

Lena had looked for seven weeks, and- 

There was no other way.

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

Imaginary Kara had been almost silent since then, her voice growing weaker in Lena’s head, and it felt like she was giving up, but she couldn’t give up. Lena wouldn’t let her.

Except that Lena and Brainy, together, had not come up with anything new in days. 

“It’s not working, Lena! It’s not working! We’ll never find a way to localise her, because science cannot make miracles, and we just burnt our last trace of Kara so we could save people who will never even be grateful to her! We don’t have anything- anything, you hear me, nothing linking us to her, and- it hurts, it hurts so much, Lena, I miss her, I miss her-”

Brainy’s tirade ended in a desperate cry, echoed by the tears on Lena’s cheeks and the agonising cramping of her lungs.

Lena didn’t believe in magic. She didn’t believe in magic, but Kara’s voice rung out in her head and Kara’s pain squeezed her heart in her chest and a golden string was wrapped around her finger-

You really don’t believe in magic? Imaginary Kara chose this precise moment to pipe up, curious and alert for the first time in days.

Lena’s relief was palpable, her reply instantaneous. 

I believe in you.

Lena could feel imaginary Kara smile at her answer; in her head, from another dimension. Impossible. Crazy. 

But in the end- what did Lena have to lose?

“Brainy, do you believe in magic?”

Brainy wiped away his tears, taking a moment to compose himself before answering. 

“Do you think it might help?”

“I- You think it’s real?”

Brainy nodded. “It is. Magic has been referenced and studied and wielded by dozens of thousands of civilisations along the years. Humans seem to have unfortunately forgotten it, but it certainly exists. Magic permeates the very air around us - however, only a select few individuals are blessed with the ability to perceive it, and manipulate it at will. I believe Earthlings call them witches.”

“I think a link was created between Kara and I before the portal closed. And- if it’s real- do you think we could use it to find her?”

“What kind of link?”

Lena extended her right hand for observation. Brainy simply frowned.

“Why are you showing me your hand?”

“Around my pointer finger, there’s- never mind. It’s probably stupid.”

“Tell me, Lena.”

Lena took in a deep breath, her eyes lifting daringly to look straight at Brainy.

“There’s a golden string tied around my pointer finger. And I think it may lead to Kara."

Brainy cocked his head, a curious glint in his still wet eyes and the beginning of a smile on his lips.

“In that case- I have something that just might work.”

A few seconds later, Brainy was whipping out a leather-bound grimoire that looked like it had transcended millennia.

“Is this a magic book?”

Brainy smirked. “What better tool for a witch?”

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

It took a few hours for Lena to wrap her head around the notion of witches - the shock lessened by Kara’s voice in her head, providing trivia about the first line of witches on Krypton.

After, Lena had to dedicate a few days to complete her reading of the book, filled with various amounts of dramatic statements and warnings, interspersed with what seemed like truly valuable information.

Lena pointedly ignored the flowery language and the cautionary injunctions, focusing instead on the information the book held on magic control, magic manipulation, and the art of finding. 

The first step was obvious, described unambiguously in the first pages of the book: Lena needed to learn to access her magic.

Clear as the process may be - whichever instructions Lena followed, whatever many hours of meditation she subjected herself to- nothing seemed to work.

I’m sorry, Kara. I’m so sorry, I’m stuck, and I can’t- it won’t come- I can’t control it.

You don’t have to. Just- have you tried trusting yourself? Letting it come to you?

I- But what if it blows up? What if I can’t control it? What if I go crazy and my powers go rogue?

You won’t. They won’t. These powers are part of you, Lena. They won’t betray you. I know I- An immaterial self-deprecating laugh. I know I did, but- you never deserved it. You deserved to be trusted and loved and cherished and I’m sorry, Lena, I am so sorry, but this was always my fault. My own fears, my own insecurities, my own shortcomings. Your powers are a part of you, and they are good, and kind, like you. I know I have no right to ask this of you anymore, but- trust yourself for me?

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

When golden smoke finally materialised and shimmered over Lena’s hands, she didn’t dare breathe for a handful of seconds, afraid the illusion would dissipate and take their delusional hope with it.

The smoke persisted.

“I did it”, Lena whispered, her voice tainted with disbelief.

I did it, Kara. I did it! I did it. I will bring you home.

“I did it!”, Lena yelled out loud, in relief and exhilaration, her own voice startling in the emptiness of the Tower.

She hadn’t noticed how late it had gotten, the hands of the clock ticking dangerously close to three A.M.. 

Alex had long given up on trying to coax her into going home at a decent hour.

As a matter of fact, Lena’s nightly stays had gotten so frequent that J’onn had set up an actual bed in the Tower for her after she’d fallen asleep at her desk one too many times, and woken up with agonising neck pain.

I did it, Kara, Lena repeated in her head.

Never doubted you, Kara’s voice answered, quietly, but with such conviction that Lena felt her chest grow a little fuller.

Lena didn’t know when she’d started believing that the voice in her head was really Kara (maybe she always had). 

Lena didn’t know, either, when what she would have dismissed as empty reassurances had  once again become her primary source of comfort.

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

The location spell, facilitated with the string still stubbornly tied to Lena’s pointer finger, only took her the better part of the night.

When the sun rose, waking Lena from her accidental slumber, and Alex came in, bearing coffee and her signature worried frown, she was met with a radiant smile and the mark of the leather’s carvings on Lena’s cheek.

“I did it, Alex. I found her.”

Alex quirked a sceptical brow, an incredulous look on her face. Lena just raised her hand in response, palm open.

There,  inscribed in golden light, dancing on the inside on her palm, was a set of four unstable coordinates.

Alex traced them with her finger, a disbelieving smile painted across her lips. “You did it, Lena”,  she murmured. “You really did it.”

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

Boarding J’onn’s ship and guiding it to Kara turned out a surprisingly easy task, the coordinates acting like a beacon, the golden thread like a compass. 

The sunlight grenades that Lena had designed but never gotten to make - finished by Brainy a few days after the witch discovery - illuminated the ghastly plane in vibrant yellow as Kara regained the power of flight, and rose majestically to the space-ship.

Lena watched in amazement - her best friend returning to her - the thread around her finger thrumming as Kara got closer.

Alex was the first to be hugged, Kara’s head burying in her collarbone. Then came J’onn, his fatherly embrace drawing tears, then Brainy, oddly in tune with his emotions, then Nia, the long lost daughter, then-

Only Lena was left.

She hadn’t noticed she was crying until she felt wetness on her cheeks. Imaginary Kara was silent, the phantom pain in Lena’s chest soothed somewhat, and Kara- Kara was looking at her.

Lena felt the tug again - in her chest, this time - and she complied, putting one foot in front of the other until-

Kara must have felt the tug, too, but she remained still, only opening her arms. Lena’s choice. It was always Lena’s choice, with Kara. Maybe it would be with Supergirl, too.

Lena took the final step, Kara’s arms closed around her, and the tug relented, something ancient and powerful singing in Lena’s veins as she melted into Kara’s embrace.

She could feel her body light up at Kara’s contact, indescribable warmth coursing over her skin as she revelled at the presence of her best friend.

Kara had closed her eyes contentedly, Lena’s head buried in her collarbones, so none of them saw- but the others stared in amazement as impalpable gold swirled around them like a consecration.

Gold was still settling when Kara opened her eyes.

“Oh”, she said, and Lena reluctantly lifted her head from the crook of Kara’s neck, particles of light dancing and shimmering around her.

“Oh”, Lena echoed in turn.

Her cheeks burnt at the involuntary display, and Lena promptly hid her blush by dropping her head against Kara’s shoulder.

I was just happy to see you, I think.

A wet chuckle, then:

“It’s only because you’re on the team that I’m here.”

I was so happy to see you, too.

Lena sniffled, and tried to silence imaginary Kara - You’re not real, she thought. You’re not real, and Kara is back, so let me-

Real Kara broke their embrace, her hands finding Lena’s like opposite magnets, her tantalising gaze fixated on Lena-

You think I’m not real? 

Well-

“Wow, talk about out-staging us, Lena.” Alex’s voice cut them — Lena and her lively imaginary friend — off; and Lena felt, more than saw, Kara’s hands slide out of hers at the interruption. 

“The gold was a bit much, don’t you think?”, Alex teased, a knowing smirk on her lips.

For the second time in a handful of seconds, Lena felt blood rush to her face. 

Luckily, Alex didn’t dwell on the subject, apologising to Kara instead for Kelly’s absence.

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

The rest of the afternoon passed in a whirlwind of emotional reunions and necessary catch-ups.

Lena assisted to most of it, electing to take the backseat as a silent observer. 

Because the Super-friends were a family, to which Lena didn’t belong. 

Kara had hugged her, sure, but they had so many unresolved tensions, so many grievances, so many wounds, that- Lena wasn’t sure she would ever be part of Kara’s family again (had she ever been part of it in the first place?).

It happened once, then twice, then a dozen times- Kara searching for Lena’s eyes across the room, the intensity of her gaze enough for the insistent tug on Lena’s finger to let up for a moment.

And then, as Lena was about to leave, making eye contact with Kara, who was in a deep discussion with Nia about her growth as Dreamer:

Meet me at my apartment, in an hour?

Kara hadn’t spoken but Lena had heard her, clear as day, Kara’s eyes bearing the silent question like an unspoken challenge.

Kara’s gaze is still on her, so Lena nods imperceptibly.

I’ll be there, she thinks, and she can swear that she sees real-Kara smile. 

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

You’re just a figment of my imagination. You’re not real. 

Lena is waiting in front of Kara’s apartment. She’s ten minutes in advance - not wanting to take chances with imaginary-Kara’s demands. Sue her.

You’re not real, you’re not real, you’re not real-

“What if I am, Lena?”

It’s real-Kara’s voice, spoken out loud in the open air of the corridor, that startles Lena out of her thoughts.

“Kara! You scared me!”

Kara smiles slightly, brushing past Lena as she makes her way to her door, unlocks it, pushes it open.

“Sorry,” she shrugs sheepishly.

Only after the door closes behind them do Kara’s words finally reach Lena’s brain.

“Did you- Kara, what did you just say?”

What if I am real? Imaginary Kara answers, and Kara simply watches, silent, one expectant eyebrow raised.

“But you- you’re not- you can’t be-“

“I am. And I can hear you, too.”

Lena only notices her hands are shaking when Kara takes them into hers, her voice soft, so soft, as she inquires:

“Alex told me how you found me. How you crafted the spell. Don’t you have to believe in magic for your powers to work? Didn’t you have to believe that it was real for you to rescue me?”

“Yes, but then- all the dreams- the conversations-“

“They were real, for me. The nightmares- that’s what the Phantom Zone does to its prisoners. Torture them with their deepest fears, forever. But I was supposed to go through that alone, Lena, and somehow- I could feel you there with me. So. I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, too, because of me. Rao knows you didn’t deserve any of it.”

Neither did you.

Kara’s throat bobs and Lena steps closer, burrowing herself in Kara’s arms, her own arms sealing their hold on her ex-best friend as if she’s liable to disappear any second.

Did it help? Lena thinks. Being bound to me?

“Yes,” Kara whispers. “So much. I- I don’t think I would have survived without you. Not the second time around. Having your voice in my head, being able to hear it, it tethered me to reality, to you-”

Kara’s voice breaks.

You have no idea in how many ways you saved me.

“You saved me, first,” Lena murmurs, her nose pressed against Kara’s neck, her lips almost brushing Kara’s skin.

I love you, too, she thinks, too chicken to say it out loud; but if Kara’s smile against her collarbone is any indication, Kara heard. I’m sorry I didn’t say it back.

S’okay. I didn’t deserve it.

Lena has heard imaginary-Kara being self-deprecating before, but this is real-Kara, and-

Lena breaks the hug to look Kara in the eyes, tone serious and focused as she states:

“You did deserve it. You deserve the world, Kara, but I- didn’t see any of it until you were ripped away, and sent on your own to this God-awful place-”

I wasn’t on my own. I had you.

Lena’s breath is a shudder.

You always have me, Kara. 

For how long?

However long you want me.

Lena thinks whatever spell ties them together must have suddenly stopped working. Seconds elapse like an unstoppable flow, yet Kara doesn’t answer, gives no indication that she’s heard besides the barely noticeable tremors of her shoulders against Lena’s - is Lena imagining them?

Lena’s hold tightens on Kara and Kara’s trembling must be real, because her voice is unsteady, and so small, when she says:

“I’ve always wanted you, Lena. I don’t think I could ever stop.”

“I’ve always wanted you, too.” Lena confesses in Kara’s ear, and Lena feels the dam break in her own chest as Kara’s tremors morph into sobs; big, ugly, irrepressible ones.

Lena is holding her, so Kara can break. After all- Lena has always been so good at putting the pieces of her back together.

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

Edit:

NSFW ending here!!!!!!

Second edit:

Part 3 (a light, funny, fluffy spin-off) here!

[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.

[writing-for-life]

2024 Roundup

Thank you all for being here!

It’s that time of year again—the recaps are flooding in. Ruuuuuun! 🤣

First of all: Thank you everyone who connected this year—you are all so appreciated, no matter if we are mutuals or not 🖤

I’ll give you a little selection of the posts that people loved most in 2024, plus a few related thoughts about what happened during the fandom year (I always do, so if that’s not your thing, you know what to do 😉)

And what a year it’s been for the Sandman fandom—lots of complicated feelings. For me, they start straight off the bat with this (I’ll get to why later)…

So let’s have a little look at:

Art

Here are the art posts you enjoyed most in 2024:

1. Dream by Vince Locke

2. Dream by Frank Quitely

3. Dream and Death by Mindy Lee

March Mania

My partner in crime @tickldpnk8 and I ran our first fandom event: March Mania. In a Tumblr fandom mostly interested in the show and shipping, it was so much fun to reconnect with the source material and feature the amazing original artists, and I still want to send the biggest “Thank You” to everyone who took part—you know who you are! 🖤

If that’s still not enough art for you:

You can find all my art curation posts via the #sandman art (all art, including my own somewhere) and #sandman x art (official artists only) tags on my blog.

[Speaking of art: I post art for all Sandman characters. However, if you look at the top posts squares on my blog, you’d think it’s only Dream. It’s both funny and a bit sad. You can use my character library to get started, but please, please support all the amazing artists and writers on here who create for more characters than just “the two” by checking character tags on main. You’ll only find the underappreciated characters if you go into the weeds yourself].

Fics & Poetry

I’m a professional writer. However, I’d never written fanfic before 2022. But I had a Sandman idea that wouldn’t leave me alone, and I clobbered it all together during NaNo ‘22 and published on a weekly schedule in 2023. It was a slow start (people on Tumblr are apparently a bit weird about OCs), but it’s really picked up since. I’m grateful for the little community I built around The Light of Stars, and writing its sequel “The Pillars of Creation” also kept me busy in 2024. It still has me in a tight grip right now (if all goes well, I’ll finally start publishing in January/February, yay!). But my writing in 2024 mostly belonged to canon characters, and these fics/poems were what you liked most:

1. Lupē (short vignette, Calliope x Morpheus)

2. Requiem (poem, Death & Dream)

3. Ode to Death (poem, Death)

Honorary mention: Dream’s Therapist [a fun little project I started just because I honestly think he needs one. Many of you seemed to agree, because you liked it more than all the other fics and poems of ‘24. This is the episode you liked most, but I personally don’t think it’s the best one—it’s just the first 🙈]

And again, if you’d like to read more, you can find all my fics and poetry here.

[Another annoying side note 🤣: The work of fic-writers gets shared so much less than that of artists and meta-writers. Even less if you don’t write reader fics, smut or for one of the big ships. I had this conversation with many other writers, and it’s the same for most of us, to the degree that people will ask us for the next chapter and tell us how much they like our fics, but never, ever share them. So maybe that’s something we can all improve on in 2025: If we like something, we’ll share it?]

Meta-Analysis

The Sandman is one of the few stories that hasn’t left me alone since my teenage years, despite having books and bookshelves clogging up literally every available space of my house. I find something new in this work all the time, and I just love taking the fine tooth comb to it.

And the next one is tricky for me, because in 2024, three of my metas took off a bit for certain reasons:

1. The Endless are not their Opposite—they only define it

2. The Truth of Mankind is also Dream’s

3. Only Hope calls you out like that

And at the time, the creator reading and acknowledging my thoughts meant something, simply because the story always meant so much to me—I’m not particularly susceptible to parasocial relationships or putting people on pedestals. But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t feel a sense of anger and disgust on…

July 3rd

The Tumblr Sandman fandom has been limping for some time now because it’s mostly a show fandom. After such a long time with hardly any news, many people simply move on and get their shipping needs met somewhere else. As someone who is mostly interested in the source material/comics and literary/meta-analysis, it never worked like that for me because neither characters nor stories are replaceable for me. But NG turning out to be a piece of shit was definitely the death knell for an already dying fandom—I could actually show you stats to make a point, but I won’t because I want to keep the demarcation lines clean here: None of this should ever be mostly about fans being disappointed or “losing their comfort show”, or whatever. We didn’t lose anything. Those women did. And I personally think every new fan should know about what he did so it doesn’t happen again. Plus, the structures that enable the abuse of power and, more importantly, keep people like this in power, will never be brought down if we pretend they don’t exist. But whether someone can separate the art from the artist is entirely up to them, and no one owes anyone an explanation. Emotional processing is hard, not every personal thought needs to be aired publicly, and our actions matter far more than our words. That’s all I’m going to say about it—my first post on the matter still stands.

Community: The Sandman Book Club

The news awkwardly coincided with having just founded the meanwhile biggest Sandman community on here. And despite everything: I love what my co-admin @tickldpnk8 and I have put together to reconnect people with the source material. We’re always happy if new people join and participate (it’s a community, not a blog 😉).

Fandom Thoughts

There was a lot of stuff in between (we got a S2 sneak peak!)—the same old fandom discourse is one of them. But if I have one goal for 2025, it’s that I want to maintain creating the space I’d like to see.

So in that vein, I’ll be honest and tell you what I lament most: It’s the transition of fandom into a consumer space. As someone who is more of a creator and sharer, I want to keep doing my bit because I love doing it. But I’d lie if I didn’t admit that my well felt fairly empty at times, and that my energy is a bit drained at this point. Investing energy into a limping fandom while others openly stated they would “only come back when S2 starts because there’ll be more engagement” felt strange, and I freely admit it annoyed me at times. It’s just a way of thinking I don’t get—are we primarily fans, or are we primarily chasing clout?

And speaking of engagement:

I often see beautiful art and wonderful poetry that has under 10, or even 0, notes. And it breaks my heart a little that so many people don’t share/reblog anymore. Because every time I reblog someone’s underappreciated art, I see the notes of those posts go up because my blog is connected enough to kick off a chain of engagement, even if it’s not always earth-shattering. You can do that, too. But it won’t happen if you only like. Reblogging is not for social clout—I personally believe that’s a fundamental misunderstanding when it comes to fandom. I see it more as saying Thank You for a gift someone gave us, and to make sure that more people also receive that gift.

Because artists/writers give their gift to fandom. Making others happy and connecting over it is the whole point!

And I’d love to see fandom turning into more of a gifting culture again. These pockets exist, so I’m not saying it’s not a thing anymore. But I also see a growing culture in which people only consume and at best engage in a TikTok/Insta-type manner by giving a like that holds no real thought. I get not everyone is a creator. But if you’re not, your gift could be to share and engage more thoughtfully. It doesn’t have to be with everything—it already makes a difference if it’s only the stuff you’d like to see more of. That’s my fandom wish for 2025…

I’ll see you all on the other side—much love to you, and may only the best come your way 🖤

[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*

[viennakarma]

So in the one where reader moves on, how does teen/preteen Luna feel about Fernando when she finds out the real reason her parents got divorced? Especially if she has siblings?

I think Luna would be a little angry at Fernando just in the beginning, just because she's a teenager, dealing with a big revelation like that and the first urge is to find someone to blame, at first she refuses to put the blame on Lewis since he is her loving father for her whole life and he could do no wrong (in her eyes).

So after finding out her dad cheated on her mom, I believe Luna would be angry and stop calling him Papá/Papá Nano (which she had been doing since she was little and her younger brother Vincenzo started addressing Nando like that).

Fernando would clock that something was very wrong the moment a full Fernando came from Luna's mouth.

Eventually, after everything was settled with her parents, Fernando would sit her down alone, to talk about everything. He'd explain how he had always been in love with Reader and how he spent many years away because he respected her relationship with Lewis. And he only romantically pursued Reader when Luna was a little over two years old, the divorce with Lewis long signed (I think he'd like to make it clear to Luna that he never came between her parents). He'd assure her he loved her as a daughter but he would unsderstand if she wanted to stop calling him Papá. Luna would stop calling him that but it would last only a couple of weeks before she slipped up and gradually went back to calling him that.

-

ON ANOTHER NOTE: I SHOULD PROBABLY DO A MASTERLIST FOR SAY SOMETHING TO ADD ALL THE TIDBITS AND OUR CONVERSATIONS.

Also, if anyone had questions about any other fics, let me know, let's chat!

[Say something masterlist]

[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 😁

[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.