#and while there's every chance i finish writing that project someday *i did not finish that project*

[meanderings0ul]

About to hit the 25k mark on my current Big Project. Am currently simultaneously:

A) tearing up at the scene I am typing

and

B) genuinely panicking about how many years this thing is probably going to take me to finish

[cherrygukki]

after last night (m)

➸ pairing: rich fuckboy! jungkook x f. reader ➸ word count: 4.3k ➸ genres: acquaintances to fwb, smut, unreciprocated love, mild angst if you squint, and a sprinkle of fluff ➸ summary: After last night, Jungkook doesn't know what to do. You got to tell him when he's gonna see you again before he drives himself crazy. ➸ warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing, protected sex, whiny jk, rough, making out in public for like a minute, grinding, lots of kissing, hickeys, dirty talk, praise kink, face sitting, cunnilingus, fingering, spitting (once), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, he's WHIPPED for reader's pussy, i almost forgot to say that jk also finishes early but that's okay he makes up for it🤭🤭 ➸ author's note: As what the title suggests, this short series (maybe) is inspired by After Last Night by Bruno Mars. I'm literally OBSESSED with this song so I couldn't help but write something dedicated to it. As always, enjoy reading!

Wishin' on a shootin' star, say a prayer for me

And hope it comes true

Jungkook can't help but heave a sigh, twirling the almost empty wine glass around in his hand while looking at the night sky with such loneliness in his eyes.

The sight above him is beautiful, but to him, there's nothing more beautiful than the image of your face in front of him right now. He craves you by his side, appreciating the view outside his window as you spend the most loving time in your lives.

So, when his eyes spot the phenomenal shooting star that swiftly passes through his home, his mind screams your name right away, praying to whoever's listening to him in the sky to have you here with him.

It's foolish, but he'll just about do anything to see you again, hoping that his wishes will eventually come true someday.

Throw my phone out the window, there's no player in me

Those days are through

When he said that he's willing to do anything for you, he meant it with every fiber of his being. Hence, it doesn't take Jungkook any second thought to pull his phone out of his pocket only to throw it out the window. He lets it fall freely from the high level of his penthouse without a care. Perhaps it's the alcohol seeping into his veins, putting him under the influence, but there still remains a part of him where he doesn't regret what he just did. After all, he only wants to prove you one thing by the end of the day —

He's more than willing to enter a new chapter in his life, and the title of that chapter is you.

You put it on me like I never felt before

That gushy, gushy good, girl, I want some more

While Jungkook continues to appreciate the mesmerizing city landscape beyond him, his mind couldn't help but drift off to the moment you met each other for the first time.

He had only intended to have a great time with his old friends during that highschool reunion of your batch. If only you hadn't attended that party like the gorgeous goddess you were to his eyes, then perhaps he wouldn't be so crazy like he is now.

Back then, Jungkook merely thought of you as the smart student who had a few admirers here and there, only ever getting the chance to talk with you every time you're paired up on a project, but he never thought of batting an eye towards your direction. However, the clearer view of your beauty in the present is in no doubt, indeed a present to him.

Without hesitation, he strikes up a conversation with you right away, leaving everyone else in the ditch as his entire attention was now directed on you, and you only.

It took hours for the party to end, thus it doesn't surprise you to see Jungkook impatient to get the both of you out of the venue, for you already knew where this night was about to end the moment he greeted you.

You haven't even gotten the opportunity to jump inside his car, but you're already making out on his hood like horny teenagers all over again. He kisses you with a spark of fire, spreading flames all over your body like a wildfire. You moan when he bites your bottom lip before pulling away, extending his warmth down to your exposed neck where he marks you like his personal treasure. You throw your head back in no shame whatsoever, disregarding the environment around you when you begin to grind your crotch against his thigh. The moans you let out our wanton, especially when he easily locates that sensitive spot on your neck to lick, suck, and bite on it that already has you reeling for the man.

You're certain there's a wet splotch in your underwear by now, already aroused from merely grinding away on Jungkook's thick thigh as well as him leaving dark spots all over your neck as if tomorrow will never come.

He slithers a tattooed hand beneath your dress to rub your clothed folds. You gasp loudly at the abrupt intrusion, letting him do whatever he desires at the moment while you relax at the sensational touches he leaves on you.

Whimpering, you grip tightly on his shoulder to urge him to go on. "Don't stop," you whine, "Please don't stop, fuck—"

"I won't, sweetheart." He licks at the fresh hickey he's just made while whispering. "I won't."

Before anyone could even catch up to what was going on, Jungkook hides the both of you from out in the open, hastily fishing his car keys from his pocket to unlock the Black Mercedes he's about to drag you in. He opens the backdoor, and soon enough, he's messily falling along with you on the leather seats where you continue to explore each other's bodies.

He locks the car again before hunching your dress around your waist to take a look at the sopping mess you've done with your panties, pushing them to the side when he finally gets to touch your bare pussy for the first time tonight.

Growling, he leans down to your ear only to send you a hot wave of shivers with the raspy whisper he lets out. "Gonna make you cum so hard tonight, sweetheart." He chuckles, "So fucking hard."

Jungkook wasn't expecting to receive exactly the same treatment he intends to give you tonight.

The moment you arrive at his penthouse, the two of you are already sticking to each other immediately like opposite poles of a magnet until you eventually navigate yourselves to the large couch in his living room. He settles you comfortably on his lap, hands traveling down to your clothed ass where he kneads them as you continue to lap each other out. You're the first one to pull away after a few more seconds, for he's already sucking the breath out of you with his plush lips alone.

You impatiently begin to unbutton his dress shirt, admiring the bulky figure that's hidden underneath the flimsy layer of fabric. He does the same to you, wrapping an arm around your back to unzip the tight outfit refraining his eyes from indulging in your gorgeous figure. The straps fall loosely around your shoulders, and soon enough, your dress is already messily hunched around your waist, exposing the entirety of your body to Jungkook's lust-hungry gaze.

By the time you get rid of his top, you don't hesitate to lean down and place kitten licks on his nipple. He quietly gasps at your bold move, resisting the temptation to have his eyes rolling back when you lick a fat stripe on his chest. He shivers underneath you, falling victim for your presence as he tightens the hold he has on your waist. Your pussy is gushing your arousal like a waterfall, and Jungkook doesn't fail to notice how desperate your whimpers get when you pick up the motion of your hips on his thigh.

Pulling away, you attack his lips ferociously, moaning oh-so wantonly that it has the tent in Jungkook's pants growing angrier by the minute. "I wanna ride your face."

"Fuck yeah, baby." Jungkook almost whines when you hastily settle yourself on his face, having your panties already ridden off earlier from the steamy car ride on the way home. You pant heavily, sensing his warm breath knocking right on your entrance, steadily aligning your core above his pillowy lips until he takes matters in his own hands — becoming more desirous for the sweet nectar leaking over him.

"Oh! Fuck, Jungkook—" You draw out a long mewl when he laps at your pussy like an oasis, leaving no drop of your juices out of his mouth as he dances his tongue around your sopping folds.

Nothing left could be heard in the spacious room aside from your lewd moans and the obscene noises of your wet pussy being eaten out by Jungkook.

You desperately grind on his face, searching for more friction, repeatedly nudging the tip of his nose with your clit which only has you throwing your head back in bliss.

Jungkook, on the other hand, feels more than euphoric seeing your fucked out expression from below. He wiggles his tongue in every spot he deemed fit to have you toppling near the edge. Your taste alone is enough to get him off, bucking his hips in the air to seek for a release himself. Swallowing every drop you offered him only has him going crazier by the second, only urging him to fuck you with his tongue this instant, and that's what he exactly did.

The abrupt intrusion of his tongue between your folds elicited a loud whimper from you. He fucks you with his tongue like how he would with his cock — messy and fast.

Breathy chants of his name and a messy mantra of moans and whimpers come tumbling off your tongue. You bounce on his face like the desperate one you were, chasing that orgasm that's merely boiling from deep within your core.

He simply couldn't get enough of your essence, akin to getting intoxicated by the best form of addiction in the world. He continues to lap on your dripping cunt as if he's the next one in line on a death row, moaning every now and then which sends vibrations reverberating up your spine. Your mind blacks out, and now the only thing you can think of is Jungkook's skilled and wet tongue bringing you to an intense orgasm.

You don't hold back from leaving your mouth ajar to spill out the most sinful, yet heavenly noises Jungkook has ever heard, provoking him to add up to your pleasure by encouraging you to swivel your hips around his face.

Your pending orgasm is peeking around the corner, and the knot that's about to blow up inside you is about to make a mess on Jungkook's swollen lips. "Fuck, Jungkook, I'm cumming—" you whine, thighs shaking profusely until the knot snaps.

Gasping, Jungkook doesn't leave any of your juices unwelcome, for he's greedily drinking your juices up in pure gluttony. Your pussy keeps gushing out new waves of your orgasm for Jungkook to consume, and he can never get sick of it. If anything, it leaves him wanting more of that gushy sweetness you provide him, never ever being stunned from the way you do it.

Sweet, sticky, thick and pretty

You changed the game

At this point, Jungkook wants nothing more than to shove his cock in the prettiest pussy he's seen in his life, similar to a messy abstract painting that always succeeds in enticing the people's eyes — that's how beautiful Jungkook saw you.

Slowly lifting your hips off his panting face, you finally take a glimpse for the first time on how fucked out he already seemed. His lips are absolutely smeared with your essence, and perhaps a few of it even landed on his chin and his nose. However, your appreciation session on the man's features are cut short when he rips open the condom hiding in his pocket, swiftly stripping himself off his pants until his dick is finally sprang out in the open; tall and leaking with pre-cum.

He rolls the condom around his shaft, and before you know it, he's already forcing you down on his lap where your soft walls gain contact with the tip of his cock.

"Gonna fuck your pretty little pussy with my cock, baby. You want that?"

You mewl in response, eagerly nodding as you visibly bite your lower lip. Spreading your slick all over his tip, you steadily sink yourself around his girth, eliciting a guttural groan between the two of you. For a moment, you can feel the wind knock out of your lungs from how full you felt. Your walls kept themselves snug around Jungkook's veiny shaft, and he swears, he's losing his composure faster by the second.

"Fuck," he lowly whimpers when you finally bottom out, large hands settling on your hips to slowly drag you up again. Your pussy already leaves a trail of dribbling slick down the length of his cock, and it definitely earns a hiss to come out between Jungkook's teeth.

He helps you in riding him, a lewd yelp falling off your pretty lips when your hips crash down on his thick thighs, causing his tip to kiss the top of your cervix inside. Soon enough, your pace becomes increasingly desperate, as what seemed to be mildly moderate a few seconds back turns to a merciless wrath of Jungkook's cock roughly fucking into your dripping cunt.

"Jungkook!" You cry his name in utter bliss before the weight of your head gives in, leaning on his shoulder for support as you unknowingly drool on the taut muscle. He growls animalistically, fucking you with full force and great speed which leaves the air humid, and the sound of skin slapping and wet squelches of your pussy fill the quiet space of his penthouse.

A staccato of breathy moans spill out from your lips like a waterfall. His cock was covered in your slick, shimmering in your thick arousal which only heightened Jungkook's stimulation.

"God, look at you—your cunt is drooling all over my cock, baby. Wettest pussy in the fucking world, shit—"

Your walls clench from his words, another wave of your juices gushing out from your pussy. No one else can make you hornier than the man fucking you right at this very moment. His brows are furrowed in concentration, mind unable to think of anything else aside from his cock rearranging your guts. He's practically pierced everywhere, and the fact that he has a full-sleeve tattoo covering the whole of his right arm only aids on to your arousal.

He catches you momentarily staring at him, and he only simpers at you. "Fuck, like what you see, baby?" The clench you do confirms your thought. "Yeah, I know you do, baby. Your cunt is so fucking wet for me, isn't it? Such a good fucking cunt, taking dick so obediently, yeah?"

"S-So good," you mewled on his shoulder, breathing becoming labored when his tip repeatedly nudges your sweet spot. The obscene noises increase in volume, which encourages Jungkook to remain consistent with his thrusts.

Everything feels messy and sticky down below where your arousal has certainly reached Jungkook's balls, covering them in white as some of it land on your ass where they clap in motion of his rough thrusts.

Jungkook swears to God that he's losing it every minute, feeling his climax build up faster than usual, too lost in the incredible sensation of your tight walls clinging onto his length for dear life. Oh, and was he extremely whipped for the way you keep creaming around the base of his cock as if you're marking him as your own. He tries to hold back the fighting orgasm bubbling within his gut, but you just had to keep him snug against your warm folds for one last time until he's eventually reaching his breaking point.

"Shit, baby, your cunt's so fucking good I think I'm gonna cum soon—" He draws out one last whine before he's filling up the thin latex material. He breathes heavily, knowing that he's never been the one to cum first during sex. Feeling his dick immediately soften, he pushes you off his cock and pulls the condom off his shaft, hastily flipping you around so he's the one on top of you this time. He grips your knees to force your legs wide, kneeling down so his face is directly in front of your dribbling cunt.

"You haven't cum yet, haven't you, angel?"

"N-No," you stutter, sensing the proximity of his face between your folds.

"Sad you didn't get to cum on my cock, but my fingers will do the trick for now."

Before you could even fully react to his statement, he's already plunging three long digits in your warm cunt, plunging them inside and out at a swift rate that has your eyes rolling to the back of your skull in an instant.

"Holy shit, pussy still so fucking tight even after getting split open with my cock." He bites his lip, pleased with the wet noises your cunt makes whenever he digs them deep within your cavern. You throw your head back as if you're floating on clouds, eyes giving in as you surrender to Jungkook's fingers finishing you off.

"Such a good girl," he coos, "taking my fingers like your pussy's made for them."

You can feel your high lingering in your lower abdomen, that familiar knot beginning to form and Jungkook detects it right away. You almost lost it when he began to increase the speed of his fingers, but what has you screaming in such a pornographic manner is his mouth sucking your clit ferociously.

He laps on your clit like a madman, desperate to reach your climax. Your legs begin to profusely shake, and your screams morph into pleasurable sobs that have Jungkook smiling against your heat. You're flooding more and more juices on his hand, his tongue aiding to your fast-approaching orgasm.

"Don't stop, don't stop, pleeeaasseeee, don't fucking stop!" You pant wildly as your hands fly to his soft locks, gripping on them for dear life to lock his mouth in place of your clit. Jungkook was absolutely shameless for loudly slurping on your wetness, flicking your clit with his tongue simultaneously which brought the cherry on top for your orgasm.

"So good, I'm cumming, shit—"

He temporarily pulls away from your cunt. "Go on and make a mess all over my face, pretty girl. You did so, so fucking well for me."

With that, he sucks on your clit for one last time before your vision fades to black. A large wave of your wetness gushes out of your pussy, forcing his fingers to pull out which has him aiming for your clit right away. He rapidly rubs your clit, groaning in satisfaction with the mess he caused.

"Damn, angel, you just fucking squirted all over me."

You're panting heavily, unable to register anything that Jungkook's saying to you, for the recent orgasm you experienced has just hit you in the head like a truck. Your body is still twitching due to the overstimulation, but Jungkook didn't seem to care at all.

Jungkook appreciates how your pussy appears to be more glossy from how much you squirted, licking his lips in temptation before leaning in to swipe a fat stripe of his tongue from the bottom of your folds to your gorging clit. You shiver from the overstimulation, taking the pleasure nonetheless.

How can you ever make him stop when this man is an absolute fucking sex god?

"Fuck, your pussy's so sweet, baby," he whines on your folds before proceeding to flick his tongue left and right at a rapid pace. Your eyes struggle to keep themselves open, for the only sensation you yearn to keep is his mouth working wonders on you. Your moans increase in both volume and pitch, and you swear the man eating you out like a whole buffet is about to pull another mind-boggling orgasm out of you.

He only adds on to your rapture when he inserts three of his slender digits inside you again. You gasp loudly, legs profusely spasming to the point where you can't keep them open anymore. You attempt to squeeze your thighs between Jungkook's face, which causes him to forcefully pry them open when he growls on your pussy.

"This cunt will be the fucking death of me, angel," he chuckles, planting a soft peck on your clit contrary to the merciless motion of his fingers. "Make a mess one more time for me, sweetheart, hm?"

"I-I can't," you sob, nails clawing on the fabric of the couch as you feel your climax flying to its peak. "Too much..!"

"You can and you fucking will," he growls again, and the vibrations felt on your heat is what triggers another mind-shattering orgasm to crash down on you. Your legs wail around from the strong intensity, but Jungkook held you still. His mouth remains unbothered when you spill your juices all over his lips, happily lapping up on your remains.

The overstimulation makes you shudder, and your cunt at this point is overly sensitive from the continuous motions of his wet tongue. "T-Too much." You use all of your remaining strength to push his head away, and you're thankful he did, only to land a wad of spit onto your sensitive cunt, anyway. He rubs the small bundle of nerves in slow, circular motions, which makes you whine.

"Jungkook, I really c-can't anymore," you whine, and he finally separates himself away from your cunt despite the addiction coursing in his veins. He leans down on your face to pull you in one last tender kiss. Your taste has definitely made its mark on Jungkook's lips, evident when he tangles his tongue with yours.

He's the first to pull away before things become more heated again, abruptly carrying you in the air with his taut arms to bring you to his bedroom. "You should look at yourself, pretty," he snickers, "You look fucking adorable in my arms like this."

You blush at his comment, shying yourself away from his gaze which Jungkook merely chuckled to. He brings you to his bedroom where he provides you with the most tender care you've experienced in your life, gently cleaning you up here and there with a wet tissue as well as giving you a generous donation with one of his shirts to keep you warm.

Jungkook was never a big fan of aftercare, preferring to keep things casual by letting whoever he hooked up with leave right away. However, seeing you laying there, exhausted from everything, gave him this strong urge to cradle you in his arms in an instant, which makes him exactly do that.

In tangled sheets, you and Jungkook sleep through the night with your limbs intertwining one another. He couldn't exactly place the blossoming sensation in his chest, but he decides to brush it off, thinking it'll all wither away in the morning.

Boy, was he wrong.

After last night

After last night, I think I'm in love with you

The next day, Jungkook wakes up next to the large empty space of his bed. At first, he could hardly remember everything that occurred last night, until the memories all came crashing down at him at once when the image of your face appeared in his brain.

His heart hammers the moment he thought about the long, yet ephemeral night he spent with you. His first instinct is to get up from bed and call out your name, thinking you're still somewhere within his residence.

"___?" He's been chanting your name like a broken toy, searching for every part of his penthouse. To no avail, though, it seems you have left Jungkook alone without bidding him a proper farewell. The only trace of you he has is the small note you wrote placed on top of the counter. It merely stated about you leaving extra early for personal reasons, saying you enjoyed the night with him nonetheless.

However, Jungkook feels himself pouting when you didn't bother leaving a number for him nor any sort of connection that'll have him talk to you again. He reminisces about the valuable time he cherished with you last night, remembering even the smallest details of you. His favorite feature of yours is definitely your smile, following the sound of your giggles echoing through his ears. You possess the plumpest lips that are worth dying for, and definitely the belle of the party last night.

To top it all off, you also had the sweetest pussy he's ever laid his hands on.

He didn't realize that he's been staring into empty space for the past few minutes, immediately blinking away any thoughts of you before deciding to proceed with his daily routine.

A lingering sensation of longing for you still remains in his chest, though. And it's slowly driving him to madness.

After last night, he's probably in love with you for all he knows.

Woke up and I can't get you out of my head

After last night, I don't know what to do

Jungkook has never seen himself be this crazy for a woman, let alone it being after a supposed one night stand.

Did you perhaps cast a hex on him? Your face haunts him even during the middle of daylight. You're like an addiction he can't get rid of no matter how hard he tries. You come to him like you were meant for him, and he can't help but be simultaneously overwhelmed and amused from how much he's thinking about you.

He can't think straight from how much you've been conquering his mind throughout the day, spacing out every minute and so to cling onto the last traces of you by solely remembering you.

Jeon Jungkook is absolutely head over heels for you.

(Baby, you've got to tell me)

When I'm gon' see you again

On the couch is Jungkook endlessly scrolling through his phone, checking out every social media app possible to possibly find you and gain contact with you for the sake of his remaining sanity. It seems like fate has been on the wrong side with him when he's unable to find a hint of you no matter how thorough he searches.

He can only sigh when his hope begins to plummet. Perhaps you were only meant to be another mere one night stand that'll add on to Jungkook's promiscuous history and nothing more. After all, you were aware from the very beginning that a man like Jungkook can't be trusted, thus making you leave before you could possibly get attached to the man.

However, after last night, he doesn't bat a single eye to any other woman whenever he's out with his friends.

After last night, you're all that takes up most of Jungkook's mind.

After last night, he began doing the craziest shit all because of you.

After last night, Jungkook only clings onto one question for the following weeks of his life: When is he going to see you again?

after last night (two)

[ikyoudreamofme]

CHANGE OF PLANS

unpopular!Chris and popular!reader

Summary: You have to pair up in Biology class for a project and you’re late to class so have to pair up with Chris. You have a party on the weekend but while walking there you see Chris and it’s raining so he offers you a lift to his place.

A/N:sorry for not writing for ages I’ve been so busy.

——————————————————————

Chris isn’t popular in school, he chooses to focus on school and himself over than sports or girls. Well except one girl Y/N one of the most popular girls in his high school, he knew he had no chance with her, he had never spoken to her so why would she get with him.

Fifth class was Biology one of the many classes Chris and Y/N had together. Class started 10 minutes ago,the teacher had already set the project and got people to choose their partners Chris stayed sat by himself while he watched everyone pair up. Your best friend Scarlett went with her boyfriend as she thought you had gone home. You walk in and give the teacher a note “y/n for the project it’s pairs, it seems to be that the only person without a pair is Chris at the back.” Your teacher says. You nod walking over the desk sitting beside Chris and smiling at him.

Chris’ nerves increase as you sit next to him. “what’s the project about sorry?” You ask turning your body to face him. “Uhh it’s about how animals and humans have evolved overtime.” He smiles at you avoiding eye contact. You thank him getting out your notepad. “So when are you free? So we can do the project.” He asks and you look up from your paper.

“I’m not free this weekend but I can probably do after school someday or next weekend.” You answer him.

He says okay and you both start a rough plan on the project so when you meet up you know what you’re going to do. The bell rings and you pack up your stuff smiling at Chris before going over to Scarlett and her boyfriend Zach. “Sorry y/n I didn’t know if u were in” you best friend whispers you shrug your shoulders brushing it off. You had no problem working with Chris popularity didn’t matter to you as much as it did to your friends, you just happened to be popular.

“Y/n I feel bad you’re paired with the weirdo.” Harry comes up from behind you. You turn around “you’re horrible he’s not even weird.” You walk away from Harry saying bye to Scarlett and going home.

~~~~~

You had a party later today it was Scarlett’s party she threw one every year just before summer break. You got out of the shower walking over to your closet getting out a dress that you like, a plain black strapless dress that has a slit in the thigh. You grab a purse putting your phone in, lip gloss and a small perfume bottle. you put on some heels before shouting by to your mum and closing the door. Scarlett's house is only down the street so you chose to walk as you were going to stay the night at hers after.

You slowly start regretting your decision of wearing heels as your feet start hurting and just to your luck it starts raining your hair and makeup getting ruined a car slows down beside you and the window rolls down, " Hey." you turn to look in the car and see Chris. " Get in your soaked." he tells you opening the passenger seat door. you shake your head " no its fine Scarlett's house is down the road." you protest going to close the car door. He holds the door open “y/n you’re gonna get sick get in.” Chris argues back. You give in getting in the car closing the door. “I’m just gonna call Scarlett and tell him her I can’t come.” You say pressing your phone you your ear. He nods and looks at the road.

You finish your call. “Thank you by the way. I really appreciate it” you say slightly shivering from the cold. He turns the heat up in the car before pulling into the parking lot. “It’s okay I wasn’t gonna leave you in the rain like that.” He replies and you smile at him. He gets out the car quickly walking to your side opening your door. He reaches his hand out for you to take, which you do getting out the car walking to the front door. “It always rains at the worst times.” He speaks up.

You look at him and nod “yeah I know it’s freezing as well.”

“Come I’ll get you some dry clothes.” Chris said walking in front of you as you follow behind. He gets out a hoodie and some sweatpants that were definitely too big. You take the clothes and ask him where his bathroom is he points behind you and you go and get changed.

You walk out of the bathroom and see Chris sitting on his bed on his phone. He looks up at you and smirks. “My clothes look good on you.” You laugh and brush it off trying to hide the blush growing on your cheeks.

"do you need something to eat? Chris asks you getting up form his bed. "is that okay?" you ask softly not wanting to be a burden. he nods and mutters a quiet "yeah." 

"what'd you want? I can make you a sandwich?" he offers walking out his room you following close behind him. "yes please. PB&J?" you ask walking into his kitchen leaning  on the counter.  He makes your sandwich as you type on your phone messaging you mum and you sigh heavily. he looks at you concerned. "are you okay y/n?" 

"no my mums gone out with her new boyfriend and ant pick me up. she left my brother at my grandparents." you look down at your phone thinking of ways to get home. "hey. its okay you can just stay here it's no problem." 

"Chris are you sure, I know you live with your brothers." you say unsurely pushing your self up to sit on the top of the island. he just nods and goes back to finishing your food. " its fine really. you can stay Matt and Nick wont mind." you hum in response.

 he hands you the plate with your sandwich you smile at him taking the plate eating sandwich. "ill grab you a drink, is pepsi okay?" Chris asks walking to the fridge. 

                                                       ~~~~~

you finish your food putting the plate in the sink quickly finishing the Pepsi putting it in the bin. " I can sleep on the couch, so I'm not in the way"  he shakes his head " no take my bed honestly its fine y/n. ill sleep on the couch." he suggests. "sleep on the bed next to me. its your bed" you tell him. his breath hitches as he nods slowly. 

He walks you to his room and sits on the bed going on his phone, you lay beside him before he talks. “I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You nod putting down your phone for a second before picking back up when Chris walks into his bathroom.

He walks out hair dripping from the shower his sweatpants low on his hips soo you can see his v-line. You stare at him barred chest for a little too long. “Are you staring for a god or bad reason?” Chris’ voice pulls you out of your thoughts. You look at him blushing slightly. “Sorry, good reason don’t worry.” You reply.

He walks over to the bed and you sit up draping your legs over the side of his bed. He stands between your legs looking down at you smirking slightly. You stand up looking up at him the eye contact making his heart beat extremely fast you could probably hear it. Chris looks at your lips then back at your eyes. “Are you gonna kiss me Chris?” You ask him quietly your hand playing with the waistband of his sweatpants. His hands go to your waist. “Do you want me to?” He says lowly. You nod and whisper “yes..I do.” One of his hands goes to the side of your face and he pulls you in kissing you deeply. You kiss him back wrapping your hands around his neck stepping closer to his body.

[triscribeaucollection]

👒🐠🍉 for the writing asks :3

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

/starts squishing rubber duckies in an unholy cacophony of Noise

👒 - nicest thing you've done to your characters

I have done many nice things for various characters, I'll have you know, both in fan fic and original stuff, but since this is you I'll go specifically to my Wolfen's Rage crew, and point out that 1) none of them get eaten by a wolfen, and 2) I changed my original plans for the trilogy and they will all survive the final battle, it does not get any nicer than that (...although Mentras may disagree with me by the time his sub-plot is finished)

🐠 - author who inspires you

In terms of fan fiction, I have a few long term favorites, but no one is awe-inspiring like @astolat, whose long-shots are amazingly in-depth, to say nothing of the multi-chapter fics that consume my brain in its entirety every time a new one is posted. The sheer dedication to take an idea and see it through to the masterful conclusion is just- ugh, I want to write like that. I need to build up my patience to do it, but someday I will get there

As for published authors, I'm torn between George RR Martin, for much the same reason (that long-running commitment to a project, which for him and A Song of Ice and Fire began out of spite, the intention to create a book series no movie studio would ever want to touch with a fifty foot pole for sheer intricacy and the constant awareness that yeah, any character can die, even the main ones, long before the story itself is done) and Terry Pratchett, whose Wee Free Men caught the attention of my pre-teen self and opened the door to Discworld, where hope wears steel toe boots and just because something isn't true doesn't mean you can't believe in it, since how else can it become?

🍉 - favorite wip

....Bear. Do not make me reach halfway across the continent to smack you, I will find a way if necessary

/long suffering sigh

Alright, uhhh- favorite wip at the moment I suppose is The Founders Play Wolfen & Warlocks, because I am a ridiculous person who wants to cackle madly while I give the Justice League a chance to goof off with a tabletop RPG I created based on my original novels:

Clark named his orc 'Kelal', and did his best to ignore the raised brows while rolling dice to determine his stats and picking out abilities, including an Arcane spell, Hover.

“Flying is always useful,” he argued, when Bruce gave him a judgmental stare. “If we need to get over a wall, or something happens to make the ground dangerous, my orc’s large enough he can grab everyone without wings and-”

“Up, up, and away?”

“You’re mocking me now, but just wait until we need to get over a pool of lava or something.”

[beechersnope]

Tagged by @hrhgeorgerussell to post the first sentences of my WIPs thank you!!!

OK first off: the state of my WIPs folder is dire. I literally have hundreds of docs and I am notorious for starting something 5+ years before I actually sit down and finish it. I'm gonna choose ones I'm either actively working on or actively rotating, or started semi-recently before getting sidetracked.

Some NSFW under the cut.

Welcome to My Island (F1, Max/George): Somehow, George manages to log a solid chunk of REM sleep despite his neuroses. He only has a second or two to feel relieved about this before realizing that he’s hard, and that his erection is nestled perfectly against the small of Max’s back.

This one is on AO3 already so this is from the second chapter (unfinished).

Untitled F/F Lestappen Fic (F1, Max/Charles, Charles/Lewis, Max/George):

“George, I swear to God if you move, I’ll—” Max doesn’t have an actual follow through, but the half-threat is enough to still George underneath her.

This was the very first fic idea I had for F1 so it's very messy and I didn't know where I was going with it. Now that I know more about how races work and such I'll probably come back to it.

Summer Sun & Wildfire (F1, Max/Daniel): Max was supposed to die in Las Vegas. Sometimes she wishes she had.

This was the second thing I tried writing in the fandom so still in the awkward exploration phase trying to find out what works. I do want to come back to it someday because it had a lot of potential.

Red Light Spells Danger (F1, Max/Daniel): "I wish I could tell you how it feels without telling you what I did."

Still in the rotation phase for this one so this isn't necessarily the first sentence, just the only actual sentence I've written. Everything else is vague outline.

Untitled BBQ fic (F1/Seb/Mark): Seb is sprawled out on the tiled floor of the guest bathroom with the handle of her hairbrush stuffed in her cunt when the doorbell rings.

This entire fic is just toxic filth so we'll see when/if I finish it.

Untitled Succession/Yellowstone AU (F1, Max/George, Max/Charles): “Is it mine?” Max had been dreading—anticipating—the moment when Charles would ask, but she hadn’t been expecting to be ambushed in her childhood bedroom during a nap, before George had even arrived with the rest of the Russell clan in tow, before Max had even gotten a chance to make her announcement in the first place.

This is more inspired by the above shows than a true AU. I had a lot of ideas for this but got distracted by other projects before I could put together a true outline.

These are all longer fics; the rest are first lines from some shorter fics I've half-written.

They’re two-hundred miles off the coast of Western Australia when the storm hits. “Power’s fucked,” Seb reports after emerging from the engine room looking considerably sweatier than before he’d gone in. “It’ll take a few hours to fix, but I don’t want to risk frying the backup now while we’ve still got some daylight left.” (F1, Max/Daniel/Seb/Mark/Alex/Pierre/Kvyat)

They send porn to each other sometimes. Usually, it’s Daniel who sends it, feeling a bit vulnerable, a bit embarrassed, every single time, no matter what the subject matter is. And it’s not like he sends Max anything weird—most of the time, it’s just the same old shit, a blonde girl taking a big cock, getting her pussy fingered so hard she squirts, so on and so forth. It’s normal. He doesn’t have anything to be ashamed of. (F1, Max/Daniel)

“What is this meant to be, like some couple’s therapy?” Max complains, crossing her arms over her chest with an exaggerated pout. (F1, Christian/Max/George/Toto, Good Battle continuation)

[princessofprocrastination]

Not The Same (GeorgeNotFound)

summary : you put out a song, but it attracted the wrong type of crowd and caused too many misunderstandings.

trigger warnings : threats (including death and doxing), panic attacks, taking of meds. 

"you're THOSE type of fans, huh?" you read the comments on your newest song release.

and that was the start of your downfall.

-

you and your dad really enjoyed singing. at any opportunity you two got, you would be doing a duet.

whether that would be at at a close relative's wedding or your at home karaoke set up, you two knew how to entertain people.

though singing was your passion, you ended up being too busy with school and trying to graduate with a diploma to even think about singing again.

but you swore to make a career of your singing after high school. you just loved it too much.

but then, you didn't go to college for music, which pretty much shocked your parents and your friends since they knew your only passion in life was singing.

but you took a different direction. you still wanted to sing and you were trying your hardest to find a way to make that your career.

someday, anyway. but you needed to have a plan to fall back into in case anything goes wrong.

you were a realist, after all.

so off to college you went.

you spent long hours studying for tests after tests, sat through hours of lectures, did endless amounts of projects.

in the end, it was all worth the wait and fatigue. you graduated top of your class.

you went off to be an intern, clocked in more hours before you could fully go into the next phase of your life.

and after those long hours, you finally made the decision (with the support of your parents) to take a gap year.

but before anyone panics. your gap year was not all fun in games where you took to rest and lay in bed all day.

you took the gap year to see if the music industry fits you. to see if you even had the chance to succeed.

and if it did, you could finally have your dream job. but even if it didn't you were not going to be upset if you needed to fall back onto your backup plan.

in the duration of the gap year, you took voice lessons, and poetry classes for song writing.

and with whatever you have learnt, you took that into writing songs that you felt really relate to your life experiences.

so you spend at least a couple months writing multiple songs.

after almost 2 years, you finally came out with your first song. and it definitely got recognition. more than you thought you'd get, if you were being completely honest.

and that was what pushed you to sit your ass back on your desk to write more, and go into your makeshift studio and make the words into songs.

your parents were ecstatic to hear that you were finally doing the things you loved. and you knew you'd never get this far if it weren't for your family's support.

and so your music journey began.

it was going well for years. you were finally happy doing the one thing you enjoyed doing.

and you definitely think you were good at it. seeing and hearing the positive feedbacks from your family, friends and listeners. 

you felt good. 

but you lost that feeling when you came out with a new single, called ‘fan of you’. 

you spent a while working hard on that song and you felt relieved when it was finally released. it was like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. 

and you weren’t sure how one thing led to another, if you were being honest. at first, you received good feedback for your new songs. you even gained new listeners and your spotify rank rised. 

but then it didn’t anymore. 

your twitter flooded with mentions and your instagram full of tagged pictures and dms by accounts you’ve never heard of. 

but you noticed a similarity with all of the spam. a guy name george. georgenotfound for short.

you being you, you looked into it. and that was when all of the information hit you. and all you had to look up was your name on twitter, and there it was, the longest thread of tweets you have ever seen in your life. 

you took time to read it all, trying to make sure you didn’t miss anything crucial. 

there must be an understanding. you didn’t know this guy name george. you’ve seen his face on pinterest once a while when you scrolled, yes. but you never looked into him. 

this amazing person took their time to gather every bit of information there was about the scandal, which you were grateful for, or else you’d be scouring the internet for hours. 

to summarise what you read, there was this artist by the name of tia jade who came out with a song a few months prior to yours called ‘just a fan.’ 

it was a good song, some say, and you could agree. it was professionally written and produced. but many fans of george found out that the song was about him. 

not just about him, but about her falling in love with him, when she has never met him. and when his fans started to really listen and analyse the song, it got creepier. 

basically, the song was about a fan falling in love with a celebrity/content creator and that they want to know them beyond their persona online. 

but tia had apologised a little after the song came out, saying that she made that song based on a fan liking a content creator, and not about her falling for george. 

but when you read enough of the issue, it definitely did seem like she was making that song to tell her story about falling for george. but she obviously needed an excuse to cover it up. 

hence the apology. 

and then you read about how they analysed your song, too.

they compared your song to tia’s and found it to have similar stories. stories about how a normal girl is falling in love with the man by the name of george, who had millions of followers on all social medias. 

and if you admitted it to yourself, your song did seem to come out that way. especially if your mentality had been there. clearly your song could have been interpreted in many different ways. 

you scrolled to the very bottom of the thread where there was a video of the man himself, george. he was addressing the issue. 

“i don’t know how this happened twice. i thought once was weird enough, but.” he paused, focusing on building something on his screen. 

“having heard of a song being about me again now makes my skin crawl.” he finished. it was short but enough to make his fans understand where he was coming from. 

you scrolled further to see the replies of the thread. you wanted to know what were people saying about it. 

and you definitely regretted your decision to do that. 

threats everywhere. death threats, threats of beating you up, threats of doxing you. god the negative comments were drowned by the one’s that genuinely thought nothing wrong of your song. 

you called you mom. this was the time you needed her advice. you needed to be told what to do. you didn’t want to accidentally trigger people. 

you and her were on the phone for hours. she listened to you cried to her. she heard the painful sobs that came out of your mouth whenever you reminded yourself of what people were calling you on the internet. 

she heard you cry silently on call when you saw your address and phone number being leaked on twitter. 

but even through all of that, you joked around with your mom. “well, this was a hell of a way to be trending.” 

you did what she told you to do. get a new phone number, stay in a hotel for a couple days while you try to settle the raging crowd of georgenotfound fans down. 

in the span of a couple weeks, you got yourself a new number, a new house and a new car. you weren’t taking any chances. 

you told no one besides your mom of the new changes, just to be safe. 

and no, the threats did not cease. at all. these people did not have a life, constantly up in your dms, telling you to jump off a cliff or them hoping that a robber stabs you and leaves you dying. 

you took your time trying to figure out a way to talk to george. or a way to speak out about this. 

you didn’t want to write a half-assed notes app paragraph apologising when- first of all, you had nothing to apologise for and second, you had too much to say to fit it all in a notes app. 

lucky for you, you didn’t need to start your own channel or make a sit down video on your own. 

your recording label had brought up the idea of a documented series about you and how you became a singer about a year ago, and only started filming and posting the episodes a couple months prior on youtube. 

so you took the series to your advantage. you pitched in the idea to your manager, to which she agreed to immediately, knowing that it was best you talked about it now. 

this was how it played out on the perspective of viewers who watched that episode. 

“bless you.” your producer says after you paused your singing in the mic as you stopped to sneeze. 

you gave him a smile and a thumbs up from inside the booth. 

the camera cuts to another clip. 

the cameraman pans as they captured movers coming in and out of your old house, picking up your heavy furniture and boxes into large trucks to move into the new place.

 it cuts again. this time it shows you scrolling on your phone with a focused face while your manager types something vigorously on her computer. 

the camera tries to focus on your phone, and sees that you were on twitter, reading a lot of tweets under your name. 

you exited the app and slide it away, going into youtube next, reading the comments on your song ‘fan of you’. 

you scrolled far, clicking on some of the comments, trying to read the replies to certain comments you saw. 

the camera cuts into a black screen. which then cuts again into a new scene, where you sat on your new kitchen counter talking to your mother, who sat on the chair in front of you. 

your hair was up in a ponytail. a messy one. you were wearing sweatpants and a hoodie that seemed far too big on you, and your feet covered with fluffy socks.

you were nodding to whatever she was saying to you. it was clear your mind was elsewhere as your eyes were unfocused. 

the scene cuts again. 

you were seen on the couch, your legs were tucked into your arms and your head down, body shaking. it was obvious you were crying. 

you were alone, your mother no where to be seen. 

that was the first time the camera caught you crying. 

the scene cuts as you were going to get up from the couch. 

now, you were in the kitchen again, opening the refrigerator to take a water bottle, then walking to your room upstairs. 

the camera follows behind you slowly into your room. 

it hadn’t been the cleanest. there were a couple shirts on the floor, your bed undone, cups on your side table, your laptop open on your desk. 

you were seen opening a drawer, taking out a small white bottle. you unscrewed the bottle and took out 2 pills, popping them in your mouth, drinking water straight away after that to swallow. 

the scene cuts again. 

this time, you were seated on the couch in the studio, the atmosphere dark and quiet. 

your hair was more kept this time, being help up in a clip. 

you were wearing straight jeans and a slightly oversized sweatshirt. you looked more refreshed this time. but it was obvious you hadn’t slept in a while because of your eyes.

your eyes that usually held a lot of happiness and joy turned dull. 

“it’s been a while since i’ve spoken to a camera.” you offered a small smile. your song ‘just a fan’ was playing in the background of the clip. 

the scene cuts again. 

“when i released that song, i was genuinely proud of the work i had done.” you paused for a while. besides the song playing in the background, it was silent. 

“but i guess the joy didn’t last very long.” the scene cuts there. 

it transitioned to a collage of what people were saying about you. it showed clips of people talking about it on youtube. they even showed george talking about it. 

and it cuts again. 

it showed a different clip this time. a clip of your ex boyfriend and you at the beach on a picnic, that was taken by a close friend of yours. 

this was when you were still in college. 

it showed all the fun memories you two made while you were still together. 

it showed a video of him studying in the library, flipping through his papers and scrolling through his laptop. it was clear he was hard at work, not noticing you filming him. 

but then the scene cuts again. and the music turned somber. 

your ex boyfriend’s grave. 

it was the day you were visiting him. you sat down next to his stone, a blanket under you. 

you were just staring at his stone, not moving. 

and it cuts again. 

“he was one of the most driven person i have ever met.” you told the camera. 

“he knew when to be serious and when to have fun.” you looked down in your hands and played with your rings. 

“all he ever talked about was becoming a surgeon. he worked hard in his intern years and continued being passionate through his residency.” you spoke up. 

“people had only nice things to say about him. the only bad thing they would say about him is that he can be pretty uptight sometimes, especially when he was stressed about something.” you laughed a little. 

“i was a huge fan of him, even when we just saw each other in the hallways. he’s just amazing. i’ve always wanted to be just like him.”

“i wanted to write a song about him but i didn’t the song to be sad.” you said. 

“and that was when the song ‘fan of you’ was created. 

the scene cuts there and goes into another. 

you were in the recording booth again, this time, you were singing into the mic. 

the camera pans to your producer and manager dancing and bobbing their heads to the beat. 

the scene cuts, officially ending it with a black screen with ‘the end’ in a fancy white font. 

you busied yourself with writing new songs as your name got trended again on twitter. 

and george has never felt worse about himself ever in his entire life. 

-

he watched the episode as soon as dream sent it to him. 

“you’re an asshole, george.” dream sends to him, along with the link of the video on youtube. 

as the video ends, he decides to read the comments, wondering what it was like down there. 

it was the worse mistake he had ever made in a while. 

but he knew he deserved it. he did assumed it was about him, just like the last song made with a drawing of his glasses as their cover photo on spotify. 

this time, there was genuinely no reason to think that this song was about him, or anyone with a following whatsoever. he just believed what his chat told him. 

sure, there were some familiarity of the character in your song and him, but the world did have 7.6 billion people living on it. 

“so, here i am apologising.” george says to his camera, live. his tone was very sincere and apologetic. 

“this shouldn’t have gotten this far. they shouldn’t have gotten threats at all, let alone death threats. they shouldn’t have woken up to the world knowing where they live and what their phone number is.” 

“and if you’re watching. i sincerely apologise. i clearly was full of myself.” george finishes. ending the live with a small wave. 

and were you watching? hell yes. 

and that was the day the two of you followed each other on instagram. 

he used your songs as his intros of his live, (with your permission, of course.) you showed in your documentary that you were watching whenever he was live or watching his youtube videos. 

and that was the start to a beautiful relationship. 

you sat on the chair, going live. you waved as people started joining. it went from hundreds, to thousands in seconds. 

as you were talking and clicking on your keyboard and mouse, playing a game, you felt arms around your shoulders. 

you smiled, yet continued playing. 

“why are you live on my account?” he laughs. 

you disconnected the headphones so that he could hear what you were hearing. 

“george, you’re being replaced.” dream said on discord. 

george smiles, giving you a kiss on the top of your head. “that was well deserved.” 

[write-orflight]

Galileo: Chapter 8

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev -  Next

Pairings: SpencerXReader, enemies to friends to lovers trope

Rating: M

Words: 2.1K

Warnings:  None, just painfully fluff.

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary:  Y/N  is an astronomer with her head constantly in the stars. But when a   serial killer is threatening NASA’s top scientists, she is left in the   protective custody of a man who’s gravitational pull threatens to pull   her back down to earth. 

A.N: Unedited. Well guys we’re here. I kinda really like how I ended this chapter so IF I do write an Epilogue it’ll be very very small. So for that reason I’m closing the taglist for Galileo. Thank you all for coming on this journey with me. Check out my other fics if you haven’t. And shoot me an inbox saying what you think! much love, Cia.

                                Chapter 8: Pluto 

Life with Spencer wasn’t easier but it sure was better. 

It had been about 9 months now since the two of you started dating and you knew it would be rough. The two of you traveled a lot for work so it was a lot of missed calls, texts, and video chats in the beginning but now you’d say the two of you got a grip on what you both wanted which was each other. Around month 6, Spencer asks you to move in with him. At first you say no, and you keep saying no until around month 8 when Spencer gets shot on the job and you take care of him and just never leave. Not that he was complaining, it was what he’s wanted since Month 2. 

You met the team officially and without impending danger around month 2 as well. Emily and Derek who you already knew through the investigation welcomed you back with open arms and tequila shots at the bar you met them at. JJ took a while to warm up to you which you completely understood from how you left but she warmed up to you when she realized just how much you loved Spencer and how much you regretted pushing him away. 

You and Penelope Garcia got along like a house on fire which everyone expected the two genius women to. Though her sunny, social disposition and your quiet, mellow one didn’t mix on paper pretty soon you guys were trading baked goods and having sleepovers. It was nice, you never had girl friends you could be yourself around but you found that in them. 

Spencer was still Spencer. 

In some ways, he was still the man you met in the observatory of your job, and in some ways he was very different. He was definitely a lot more touchy than you thought he’d be, seemingly unable to be in the same room as you without touching you in some way. Not that that was unwelcome, you loved him all the same. He was still that nerdy guy who whenever he read something or found out something new about your field he’d call you up and immediately to tell you about it. And you would sit and listen intently, never having the heart to tell him it was something you already knew. You liked to hear him talk anyway. 

You still found out a couple of things too. One being that Spencer gets extremely jealous and you found this out around Month 7 of your relationship, your first official fight. He had come to surprise you at work and you were helping the new Doctor hired on the Terra-Mora project get acclimated with the space. You didn’t think anything of the guy other than he was overly friendly but when Spencer came in and saw the fairly attractive man lingering a hand on your back he became livid. 

The car ride home was awkward because you could tell something was up with Spencer though he wasn’t saying anything. “What’s wrong?” You asked. 

“Nothing, bunny.” He says, you can’t help the smile that crosses  your face at the nickname but you knew there was something wrong. 

“Okay so there has to be something up. So out with it.” 

He’s silent for a moment. “How’s working with Dr. Sutton?” 

“Landon?” You ask. He gives you a look when you refer to the man by first name but you choose to ignore it.  “It’s fine. He’s better at math and he’s been nice.” 

“Bet he has.” Spencer mutters under his breath. 

“Ok, what is that?” You ask. 

“Why did you just call him Landon just now?” 

“His name is Landon….?” 

“Every person you work with you refer to as Doctor, you even refer to yourself as Dr. L/N when talking about work.” He points out. “In fact, the only other person you didn’t do that for was Jonathan, who you had feelings for. So why is he ‘Landon’?” 

“He asked me to call him Landon.” You shrug. “You almost sound jealous, Spence.” You can’t help the small chuckle that leaves you when you say it because it was ridiculous to even think about. You loved Spencer. You couldn’t imagine your life without him or even fathom wanting anyone but him but when you saw the look he gave you back when you said it you knew that was exactly the case. 

“You wanna tell me what this is actually about now?” You question. 

“Why didn’t you say I was your boyfriend?” He whispers. 

“What?” You say, confused. You park the car in front of your apartment and turn fully towards Spencer.   

“You didn’t say I was your boyfriend, you called him Landon…” 

“Baby, I didn’t even realize I didn’t do that.” You say, looking into his eyes. “If I did it’s because everyone knows who you are.” You say, cupping the side of his face with one of your hands, he instantly leans into the touch. “My genius boyfriend, who works for the FBI and saved my life. I talk about you constantly because I am happy and proud to be yours. That you still took a chance on me even though I pushed you away and treated you like shit in the beginning. I am never trying to hide you and you have no reason to be jealous because I don’t see anyone else when I’m with you, ok?” You say, Spencer smiles and leans over the center console to kiss you and just like every time Spencer kisses you, you contemplate the likelihood that the earth could stop its rotation because it seemed that the world stood still every time you were together like this.When you pulled away, you leaned your forehead against Spencers for a second, catching your breath. 

“Plus you really have no reason to be jealous.” You add. “Me and Landon spent most of the morning talking about our boyfriends.” 

Spencer looks at you with a wide eyed expression. “You mean, he’s--” 

“Yup.” You cut off. Getting out of the car, Spencer follows you. “You should get jealous more though. It’s kinda hot.” You shrug. Spencer rolls his eyes at you. 

-----------------------------------------------------

     On your one year anniversary, you go to your first date spot which was the Planetarium. You rolled your eyes at the time when Spencer suggested the date saying that you’d both just end up annoying the tour guide. In the end, you ended up with a 16  year old named Anna, who had the same twinkle in her eye when she talked about Space that you had as a child. You ended up shushing Spencer every now and again so you could listen to the young girl tell you about the planets you both knew so much about. At the end of the tour, you told her who you were and that if she wanted an internship at NASA after high school to give you a call. She smiled excitedly at you and hugged you, which you returned before apologizing profusely for hugging you. When you and Spencer were walking to get food after that he asked the question. 

“Do you want kids?” He says. 

“Whoa!” You laugh. “Big ask for a first date.” 

“I’m sorry, you were just so cute with the tour guide that--It’ll come up eventually is all.” 

“I do want kids someday.” You say, smiling at the man. “I never thought it was in the cards for me but I would love kids someday. What about you?” 

“I never thought it was in the cards for me either but I like the idea of having a family.” He says, reaching for your hand. You smile at him again and the topic never comes back up. 

You guys head to the Planetarium again and Anna is still working there, finishing up her senior year. She lets you guys venture around without a guide this time and you and Spencer just sit in the auditorium alone, talking softly at the fake constellations that pass by. 

After, you ask if you guys can skip dinner to go to the observatory just to see if you can get a peak at Gaia tonight as the sky seemed pretty clear. Spencer smiles and obliges you as the two of you head over to your job. The night security guard just nods at the two of you as you walk in, having come accustomed to your late nights and Spencer accompanying you. 

Spencer sits a ways while you set everything up, booting up your computer and positioning your telescope. The two of you settle into a comfortable silence as you often did around each other. You felt slightly bad, it was your anniversary and Spencer was indulging you just like always. He was really way too good for you. You look up at him and smile, which he instantly returns before you turn your attention to the telescope. 

That’s when you see it. 

Gaia. 

Fully visible from earth for the first time in what could have been a millennium. 

You scream out of happiness and Spencer looks up at you raising a brow as you run for your tape recorder.  Gesturing for him to come look. He looks into the telescope as you type into your computer for a second, making sure your telescope was taking the pictures you needed, before speaking into your recorder. 

“This is Dr. Y/N L/N. I am accompanied by Dr. Spencer Reid. The date is April 12th 2014. For the first time ever Planet KXSY-1029 or Alias Gaia is Fully visible from earth!” You turn off the recorder and jump into your boyfriend’s arms. He instantly catches you and spins you around before kissing you fully on your lips. You moan into his mouth slightly as his tongue meets yours but eventually he pulls away but he is still lifting you fully. 

“Do you realize how big tonight is? This is probably the only time anyone in centuries will be able to see her until we actually start human trials and it’s the only time it’ll probably ever be visible from earth and WE were here for it! This is amazing! This night cannot get bette--” 

“Marry me.” Spencer says, looking into your eyes. 

Your eyes widen, as Spencer sets you down on the ground. “What?” You ask. 

“I was going to ask at dinner.” He says pulling a ring out of his jacket pocket and getting down on one knee. You feel tears welling in your eyes. 

“I ruined your whole plan.” You say. 

“No! No, you didn’t. Because seeing you react to seeing Gaia just now reminded me exactly why I wanted to marry you.” Spencer says, grabbing your hands. “Did you know the greek goddess Gaia in creating the earth, gave humans four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. And Zeus, fearing their power, split them in half and that’s where the soulmates come from?” He asks, you shake your head and more tears fall as he rubs small circles with his thumb on the back of your hand. “Y/N, you are the single most caring, passionate, amazing person I know. And if I could go back and change anything about how we met and when we met, I wouldn’t. If I could take away your hurt and tragedy, I would but I feel like everything I’ve ever done, everything that’s ever happened to me, was designed to lead me to you. Meeting you, loving you was the first time in my life I felt truly like myself, like I was half a person until meeting you made me whole again.” He tears up as he looks you in the eyes. “So, Y/N… Will you marry me? Please.” He adds softly. 

You nod fast, tears falling more than they were before as you give him a wet smile. “Yes, Spencer! Of course!” You laugh as Spencer smiles up at you as he slides the ring onto your finger. He gets up and kisses you passionately, hands cradling your face. When you pull apart, he hugs you tightly. You breathe in his scent and look behind him at the images of Gaia on your screens. You thought back to the story Spencer had just told you about soulmates and how before you met Spencer you were just going through the motions of life, feeling incomplete and never knowing what was missing. You seemed to have everything you wanted. Your dream job and life. It wasn’t until being with Spencer you realized what was missing. That he was missing.   

In the end, you were just two halves. 

Made whole by Gaia.  

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@bauhousewife​ @anotherr-fine-mess @literaturely-a-mess @piggyinapickle

[kippykasey]

Grace - Chapter 5: Hydra

Pairing: Howard Stark x F!Reader , Bucky x Reader [Eventually]

Word Count: 3522

Series Summary: A young nurse is recruited by Dr. Abraham Erskine to join the SSR to assist on Project Rebirth. Following her work with the SSR she is drafted into the US Army Nurse Corps in the war against the Nazis...and HYDRA.

Chapter Warnings: violence, torture, bad things because Hydra

Author's Note: Surprise?! I wasn't even expecting to get this done but I literally just finished and thought, eh why not. So here it is! Also I hate hurting my characters so this was a bit eh to write but I hope all is well!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the gifs they are either found on google or under the gif tag provided by tumblr. Any language other than English was translated using Google Translator, and translations will be posted in bolden italics after. I am not a nurse or in the medical field although I may do some research medical treatment written may not be correct.

Grace Masterlist | Snowdrop Masterlist | Masterlist

Pain. A throbbing, harsh pain echoed through my head from the temple. The throbbing beat opposite that of my heart. The second thing I noticed was how cold and damp it was. After battling with my body to force open my eyes I squint through the dimly lit room. A deep voice spoke in another language… German it was German but my head hurt too much for me to understand it. Seconds passed before I realized that I was sitting on the ground in a cell. The door opened and two men walked in flanked by four additional soldiers than the one that had been watching me.

“Ah Fräulein (L/n) glad you have finally woken up.” Miss.

“Who are you?” I cursed how weak my voice sounded at that moment. Though the man didn’t seem to find me a threat of escape as he spoke. “Johann Schmidt. You see we have a common acquaintance… or, well, had.” The grin he wore made my stomach drop and he didn’t need to verbally admit it for me to realize this is the man behind Abraham’s death.

I raised my head in defiance and although it made the pounding in my head worsen I pushed myself from the ground and stood within the cell. “You’re after the serum.”

“Ah, clever girl. You were Abraham’s assistant when he made the serum.” The second, much shorter man spoke. “Fault in your plans. I don’t know how to make the serum.” Schmidt smiled at me and it took all my self control not to shiver from his intense look. “I was hoping you would say that,” His eyes turned off me to the soldiers. “Bring sie zum Stuhl. Probiere es an ihr aus. Vielleicht wird ein kleiner Elektroschock Ihr Gedächtnis auffrischen.” Take her to the chair. Try it out on her. Perhaps a bit of electroshock will refresh your memory. As Schmidt talked his head also turned towards the shorter man.

I could feel the blood drain from my face as I moved back against the wall. Three soldiers stepped towards the cell. One man opened the cell door before the other two stepped inside to detain me. I managed to elbow one in the face in my struggle but it was useless. The two soldiers dragged me from the cell, out of the room into a brighter lit hall. We were in some kind of warehouse. My eyes zeroed in on a chair that looked right out of a nightmare. Stronger hands forced me into the hard chair and held me down while I was struggling against someone’s attempts to strap me in. My struggling did nothing but get me a slap to the face. The strength of the slap disoriented me long enough for them to strap me in.

The shorter man who followed us now stood next to my head. I could see the reflection of myself in his glasses. “This is only going to hurt a lot, try to hold still.” He instructs lowering two plates down around my face. It was only a few short moments before the electricity forced its way into my head. I had no control over my body as it thrashed in the confines of the chair. An agonizing scream of pain carrying throughout the building went ignored.

That wasn’t my first time in the chair but it was the only time I had passed out in the chair. Spent 30 minutes in the chair 3 times a day, sometimes longer. After a week I had to start muttering things to myself in my cell so I didn’t forget who I was. The Nazi soldiers gave me the bare minimum to survive as far as water and nutrients goes. I cracked halfway through October. I gave the short scientist, Armin Zola, the list of what I would need before I was taken back to my cell after yet another time in the cell. I was given parchment and a pencil to write things down with but it kept coming in flashes.

Nights were the worst. Mouth dry from lack of water, eyes trained on an iron grate in the ceiling. I realized two weeks into my daily chair visits that I had forgotten my brother’s name. When I noticed it caused me to cry to sleep that night. So whenever I could I would mutter to myself facts I could remember starting with my name, rank, and where I was from. The list of facts got shorter every day. Somedays I remembered more than others. There were times all I could bring myself to do was hum Amazing Grace to myself to deal with the pain.

The first time I was in the lab I tried to escape. I was left with just one guard and I thought I could take him. I smashed a beaker using a shard like a knife. I ended up knocked unconscious, my hand bleeding from the self inflicted cuts caused by the makeshift weapon. From then on I was chained to the lab table and three soldiers kept watch. I wasn’t given anything to test the serum on. So I never tested unless I thought it would work because I used myself as a test subject.

I was unconscious for two days once from a failed serum. Others cause excruciating pain. Days came and went and I lost count of days but I knew it was still October. Yet a month was close to passing as November began to be discussed amongst soldiers around me. Pressure was placed on me to recreate the serum. Each day if I didn’t recreate the serum I was sent to the chair for the torturous electroshock. That is how I figured out I had been successful in a recreation. The serum, when tested, did nothing but make me drop to the lab floor in pain. I wasn’t even given time to recollect myself before being dragged off to the chair. I lasted longer in the chair than usual. I heard the instruction to increase the power. I don’t remember what happened after that.

It took me nearly half a day to recover, then as soon as I had I was back working in the lab. Suddenly I was pulled away from my work and escorted quickly back to my cell. “Neue Soldaten wurden gefangen genommen.” New soldiers have been captured. I pressed myself up against the bars for a chance, a glimpse at the soldiers being brought in.

It was silent as the Nazi Hydra soldiers dealt with the new poisoners. Suddenly two soldiers appeared with smiles on their faces. “Komm Mädchen. Zola und Schmidt wollen dich sehen.” Come girl. Zola and Schmidt want to see you. The soldiers yanked me up and practically dragged me to the room where the chair was. My body trembled involuntarily at the sight of the chair. It wasn’t me going in the chair, given someone was strapped in but given the uniform he was American. “Ah, here iz our lovely nurse. You’ve been asking for a test subject. Here you go.” Schmidt waved at the man strapped into the chair. The man lifted his head just barely and my heart went out to him. As soon as the hands left my arms I moved to the soldier in the chair. “What’s your name, soldier?”

“S’rg’nt Jam’s Barn’s,” His voice wasn’t clear but it was clear enough for me to understand what he said. The nurse turned to Zola and Schmidt. “I wasn’t done recreating the serum when you had me pulled from the lab. I will need time to work and he needs time to rest or the serum will kill him.” I tried to give him whatever comfort I could in those brief moments before we were pulled apart. His head rose just slightly and I caught a glimpse of stormy blue eyes as he was dragged out of the room.

I never got to return to my cell that night. As my eyes zoned in on the blue chemical mixture in front of me I felt a haze cloud my mind, it wasn’t abnormal to experience but I also felt like I was losing myself when it happened. Following my own written instructions I was able to continue my work. The only other thing I forced my mind to remember were two things.

I am First Lieutenant (Y/n) (L/n) of the US Army Nurse Corps. Soldier boy is Sergeant James Barnes.

The words became a mantra in the blank canvas my mind was currently in as I blindly worked by instructions of my very own that I don’t even remember writing. My body moved on auto pilot as I was taken to a crude looking examination room. In the center was soldier boy Sergeant James Barnes strapped to the table. As my mind raced to catch up with me, flashes of memories clouded my mind from when Steve Rogers got the serum, the explosion that followed, Dr. Erskine being shot. My body tensed at a passing memory of being in the chair passed through being replaced by the pain I felt giving myself the serum.

A hand pressed firmly in between my shoulder blades pushing me forward. I stumbled to the table catching myself with a hand on his arm. Wasn’t he wearing an army jacket before? My eyes landed on the serum filled syringe in my hands reminding me of what I was about to do. “First lieutenant (Y/n) (F/n) of the US Army Nurse Corps.. You are Sergeant James Barnes.. I’m sorry for what I am about to do. You’ll be okay. I’ve used it on myself. It will hurt.” My voice sounded so… robotic and monotone as I spoke to him. My hands pushing up his sleeve.

My hands worked from memory and out of second nature my mouth moved and the hymn fell from my lips. The melody of the song was the only comfort I could offer as I injected the poor man with the serum that would change his life forever. His eyes looked up at mine until the pain of the serum changing his body caused them to shut tightly. The leather restraints holding him in began to rip as he pulled against them. Discarding the empty syringe I tried to soothe him more but the second my hand touched his head I was shot with a sedative.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Steve Rogers has dressed up performing on stage like a dancing monkey to sell war bonds since he was given the serum. His first time on foreign grounds and he was performing for soldiers he should have been fighting alongside of. All to be booed off the stage by disgruntled men who just wanted to see a pretty dame.

Steve finally looked away from the rain but not quite at Peggy, “At least he’s got me doing this. Phillips would have had me stuck in a lab.” Blue eyes finally met the face of Agent Carter. “And these are your only two options? A lab rat or a dancing monkey? You were meant for more than this, you know.” Her wording might have been a bit rude but the point got across. There was a moment of silence between the two but Steve had this look to him. “What?” Peggy inquired.

The man was drawing in the rain when a familiar face popped up. “Hello, Steve.” Peggy Carter approached him from behind, making him turn from his drawing to greet her, “Hi.” She mimed his ‘hi’ back before laying her jacket down to sit on while Steve asked, “What are you doing here?” Peggy looked at Rogers and let out a small sigh, “Officially, I’m not here at all. That was quite a performance.”

Rogers looked away disappointed that she had caught the horrible show that happened earlier. “Yeah. I uh, I had to improvise a little bit. The crowds I’m used to are usually more, uh, twelve.” Steve explained looking out at the drenched ground and falling rain. “I understand you’re ‘America’s New Hope’.” Peggy states watching him. “Bond sales take a 10% bump in every state I visit.” Steve comments like a robot. “Is that Senator Brandt I hear?”

“You know for the longest time, I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines, serving my country. I finally got everything I wanted and I’m wearing tights.” Steve kept looking down at his journal then squinting out through the rain. A horn alarmed behind them as a medical vehicle slid to a stop in the mud. Medics ran from the infirmary tent to help unloaded soldiers on gurneys. “They look like they’ve been through hell.” Peggy turned back towards Rogers. “These men more than most.” Steve looked up at Peggy knowing she had more details. “Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano. Two hundred men were there to back up an already injured fleet, they went up against him and less than 75 returned. Your audience contained what was left of the 107th and 34th.” Steve slowly turned his head feeling bad for the men who were lost but his attention snapped to Peggy at the mention of the divisions involved as she finished, “The rest were killed or captured.”

“The 107th?” The confirmation had him darting out into the rain, Peggy following holding her jacket over her head for coverage from the rain. The two ran all the way to the tent Colonel Phillips was sitting in signing condolence letters. “Colonel Phillips.” Steve called for the man’s attention as he approached. “Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. What is your plan today?” The colonel responded looking up at the pair now standing in front of him. “I need the casualty list from Azzano.” The tone he used was definitely fitting for the role he plays on stage. Phillips however did not appreciate it. “You don’t get to give me orders, son.”

“I just need one name, Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th.” Rogers responded un phased. Phillips pointed his pen at Peggy, “You and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy.” Steve was insistent though and again requested the information he wanted, “Please tell me if he’s alive, sir. B-A-R..” “I can spell.” Phillips cut him off before muttering, “First Stark and now this.” He stood from the table and paged through the letters he just finished signing. “I have signed more of these condolence letters today that I would care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry. To the both of you.” Phillips looks from Rogers to Peggy and the woman knew he was referring to her friend from the 34th.”

“What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?” Rogers was something else, optimistic maybe. “Yeah, it’s called winning the war.” The look of disbelief that Steve sent the colonel as he spoke might have been the first red flag for Peggy Carter. “But if you know where they are, why not at least..” Phillips once again cut the man off, “They’re 30 miles behind the lines through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe.” Phillips was eyeing the spot on the map as he talked about it, even pointing the place out directly. “We’d lose more men than we’d save. But I don’t expect you to understand that because you’re a chorus girl.”

The colonels' dig at Roger’s lack of status didn’t seem to phase the man but it did fuel the plan he was formulating in his head while staring at the map, memorizing it. “I think I understand just fine.”

“Well, then understand it somewhere else. If I read the posters correctly, you got someplace to be in 30 minutes.” The colonel walked past him giving Rogers a very clear view of the map marking out exactly where he needed to go, and where he was. “Yes, sir. I do.” Perhaps the time staring at the map was the second red flag that Peggy noticed. As her eyes flickered between him and the map as he left the tent it all clicked into place and she hurried after the taller man.

“What do you plan to do, walk to Austria?” Peg asked as she entered the tent used as the changing room. “If that’s what it takes.” Steve answered not looking up from where he was struggling with boots. “You heard the Colonel. Your friend, and mine, are most likely dead.”

“You don’t know that.” Steve disagreed as he continued to get ready. “Even so, he’s devising a strategy. If he detects..” Steve cut her off as he put on a brown leather jacket, “By the time he’s done that, it could be too late.” He snatched up his bag and shield and headed for the exit. “Steve!” Peggy called following him to the vehicle he tossed his things into. The rain had stopped leaving the sun to rapidly evaporate the water leaving puffs of smoke in the air. Steve looked at the brunette in front of him. “You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?”

“Every word.”

“Then you got to let me go.” Steve turned to get into the jeep and started the engine before Peggy was at the side. “I can do more than that.” She told him.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Peggy hadn’t lied. She got them a method of transport much faster than the jeep. Howard Stark sat in the pilot seat flying a plane with the slight chance his fiancée may still be alive. Stark was devastated when he first found out that the 34th was attacked and that only doubled when the attack at Azzano took out the 107th as well.

“The Hydra camp is in Krausberg, tucked between these two mountain ranges.” Peggy infomed Rogers as she pointed to the map she was holding. “It’s a factory of some kind.” She gave him as much information as she could. “We should be able to drop you right on the doorstep.” Howard called over his shoulder.

“Just get me as close as you can.” Steve called back up to the pilot. He looked back over at the woman in front of him. “You know.. You two are gonna be in a lot of trouble when you land.” He was worried about her getting into trouble for him but she looked at him just as worried. “And you won’t?” Steve dismissed her worries, turning his head. “Where I’m going, if anyone yells at me, I can just shoot them.” There was a small click of a loaded gun.

“They will undoubtedly shoot back.” Peggy surmised. Steve turned to the shield he had been using on stage giving it a knock, “Well let's hope it’s good for something.” Steve turned back to her just as Howard called back, “Agent Carter? If we’re not in too much of a hurry, I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late-night fondue.” Howard was teasing the agent, the smile on his face hidden from those being him. Peggy shifted in her seat choosing to ignore him and keep conversation going with Rogers. “Stark is the best civilian pilot I’ve ever seen. He’s mad enough to brave this airspace. We’re lucky to have him.”

Steve however was still not fully over the comment Stark made. “So, are you two… do you…” There was an awkward pause as Steve thought of the proper way to ask if they were seeing each other by reusing Stark’s words, “..Fondue?” Stark tried not to laugh from the pilot’s seat as Peggy simply shook her head and handed him a device. “This is your transponder. Activate it when you’re ready and the signal will lead us straight to you.” Steve took a moment to look at the device now in his hand before calling up to Howard, “Are you sure this thing works?”

“It’s been tested more than you, pal.” Howard defended seconds before gunfire hit the side of the plane. The plane shook as bullets pelted the sides, shaking the aircraft from the force. Steve stood grabbing his shield and heading towards the door. That he opened. “Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in!” Peggy ordered yelling over the wind rushing into the plane. “As soon as I’m clear, you turn this thing around and get the hell out of here!” Steve ordered back over the noise of the wind, gunfire, and the pinging of bullets on the plane.

“You can’t give me orders!” Peggy disagreed.

“The hell I can’t! I’m a Captain!” Steve looked over at her, giving her a smile that made her weak in the knees. He grabbed the goggles from his helmet, lowered them over his eyes and launched himself out of the plane. Peggy watched him fall towards the ground before the red fabric of his parachute was visible in the night sky from the flying bullets. Howard turned back as instructed by the Captain. Now all they could do was wait.

[justasimplesinner]

Ooooooo bro I've been saving this one for the longest time. Ok so we can all agree that mof crane probably didn't go to his senior prom and probably felt like shit because he didn't feel like anyone really cared about him right? What if a friend/admirer of his (i.e. the reader) he had mutual feelings for asked to hang out on prom night but told him to dress nicely and meet them by the cornfield. He's having doubts cause of the whole Sherry thing but he meets them there anyway, he's gonna comment on how pretty/handsome they look but they're literally so excited they just grab his hand and drag him through the cornstalks. He's getting real sus after a good 5 minutes of walking and is about to pull his hand away until they arrive at a clearing where they have a radio set up to play slow music, a picnic blanket, a few soda bottles filled with wisky that they may or may not have obtained from another student during class, and a balloon held down by a stack of books they've been dying to share with him. They dance, they get a little tipsy, they laugh, he gets a well deserved smooch or two, then they read under the stars together till they fall asleep cuddling.

Please 🙏.

i so fucking wanted to turn this into a fic but i'd just turn it into 30k words of jon's emotional turmoil and never finish it, so have this instead and keep it in mind that my heart has genuinely melted while writing this and i squeezed out every last bit of fluff it had

Masters of Fear!Jon's dream prom night hcs:

when you tell him to meet you by the cornfields on prom night, he's... conflicted. for two main reasons. one obviously being his trauma after the humiliation Sherry put him through the one time he got his courage to ask someone for a date, and two - this was the night of his revenge. he hasn't told you about this, but this was the night his plans were supposed to come to fruition. this was supposed to be the night he first donned the scarecrow costume, the night that would turn his whole life around. but you... you were his friend. he didn't remember a time when you weren't. you were always there. you were there for him every time got bullied, beaten or humiliated. you were there for his misplaced infatuation with Sherry and you were there to comfort him after he had a head-on collision with reality. and now, you were there for his prom night, despite him not having the courage to actually ask you to go with him. and maybe, just maybe... revenge could wait. maybe he should repay you for going through the trouble (and it was a trouble) of befriending him and staying by his side. so he accepted

you told him to dress nicely, so he did, to the best of his abilities. he donned a brown suit, the only one he had that was supposed to be for his prom and that was just slightly too small. it was the smartest garment he owned and he almost liked how it looked, how it made him seem more serious, more intelligent, but when he saw you... he truly felt like a servant in the presence of royalty. "nicely" wasn't anywhere near to how you looked. you were breathtaking. absolutely fucking breathtaking, to the point where the air actually got stuck in his lungs when he looked at you. thousands of thoughts were running through his head. you were so beautiful. why didn't he ask you to prom? why did he waste his only chance to do something with what you two had? the suspicions as to why exactly were you so dolled up by a cornfield were muffled by his absolute admiration for you as well as that slight self-hatred that accompanied him wherever he went

and then, you complimented him. it wasn't the first time, you were always so supportive of him, but this time it... hit different. it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not like you haven't called him handsome before, but suddenly he found himself tongue-tied. the best he could muster back was a stuttering "you too", but before he blinked you were already grabbing his hand and rushing him through the cornfields, claiming that you had a 'surprise'. and after his experiences, Jon wholeheartedly despised surprises

there was a battle going through his head because honestly, where the fuck were you taking him, why were you two tearing through a cornfield? what, because he looks like a scarecrow? was it another joke? you were never once mean to him, but at this point, who fucking knew? but also, you were holding his hand. you laced your fingers and squeezed and pulled and your thumb kept rubbing over his skin in almost a soothing manner and you held his hand-

"(y/n), please-" he didn't even know what he was asking of you, all he knew was that he was scared and your hand was both the reason for it and his only source of comfort, but he shut his mouth the second you pulled him into a small clearing and he was faced with... a dream, really. you took care of... everything. you laid down a huge blanket with some light pillows to make it more comfy, homemade snacks, drinks, alcohol, a god damned radio with both your favourites on, a small stack of books with balloons-

he was speechless. completely, utterly speechless. you were talking like it was nothing, how you took the CDs from your home that he liked, how you baked those muffins he always immensly enjoyed, how you sneakily bought whiskey with the help of your older friends, how you brought the books you were just dying to read with him, how you fucking made your own private prom for you two to enjoy in peace, and said it like it wasn't a big deal. and he... brought you nothing. not even flowers. he should've gotten you flowers, like any man would. you made all this and he was just standing there like a fucking idiot, with his hands empty, and he dared to doubt you after everything you two have been through-

but you didn't let him wallow in his self-doubt, instead pulling him down, deciding to start the fun. you sat there, side by side, with you pouring the drinks, munching on snacks, discussing books, laughing and joking around with some music in the background. Jon has spent some amazing moments with you, from skipping school to go to the lake to going on trips with you and your parents to places he never thought he'd visit, but this felt... special. that night, he felt happier. he felt like it meant more

he didn't expect that slow love song he was fond of to play, nor you offering to dance. well, offering might be an understatement. if you offered, that dumbass would've probably refuse out of sheer embarassment and bashfulness. you pulled him up and decided to lead him to the "dance floor" (i.e. area around the blanket), leaving him no room to refuse. yet again, not the first time you two danced together without a care in the world, but the first time it felt so... intimate. you were so close, closer than ever before. you held him so gently, you smiled so brightly and he was so captivated he stumbled over his own feet more than once, but it was all perfect. your chest pressed up against his and then soon enough, your head leaning on his shoulder felt so... right. like you were meant to fit against him, like his arms were meant to hold onto you like this. at the same time his heart tried to beat out of his chest but his mind was an oasis of peace. he felt both nervous and at ease, his face hesitantly nuzzling into you, arms tightening around your body, pulling you so close not even paper could fit in-between you two

it's like he finally realised that what he always wanted was right under his nose all along. that all that time, the only thing he craved was being with you like this. at last, he could understand why his heart always sped up and why he dreamed of you so often. this was way different than the "thing" he had for Sherry. way stronger, way more sincere. he felt more deserving of Sherry than he did of you, like she was closer in his reach than you because you were always so kind to him, because you always cared and he felt like he had no right to ruin what you two had. with Sherry, he had nothing, it was easier to project onto her because he couldn't have you. and all that time, he was unconsciously complicating his own life instead of just... trying to reach for you

he felt like he got really far with you that night, like it was already a big step forward and that maybe, someday, you'd consider something... more. he didn't expect you to kiss him right then and there. he didn't expect you to slowly lift your head from his shoulder and dive right in with only a quick glance into his eyes. suddenly, the whole world stopped, along with his heart. suddenly, the world didn't exist, there wasn't a single thought of Bo, Sherry or his revenge, there was only you. you and your perfect lips moving against his own and your perfect hands cupping his cheek and tangling in his hair. he didn't expect an embarassing mewl to escape the back of his throat but if anything, you didn't seem to mind, only pulling him closer, letting him feel all of you

the kiss was messy, almost awkward, but Jon has never felt anything as divine as your plush lips moving against his chapped ones, your tongue slowly sliding into his mouth, guiding him, showing him what love really felt like. he really didn't know when his arms embraced you tight enough to feel your every move against his body, but it felt right. it felt right to have you this close and to kiss you like this. it felt like this was where he belonged

he needed air, but he needed you more and he couldn't just stop, if it wasn't for you finally pulling away, he might've suffocated on the spot. when he leaned back, his chest was heaving and his lips tingling, but he didn't let you go. it's like... he couldn't. you looked into his eyes, hell, right into his soul and for the first time in his life, he had no doubt. surprisingly, he felt no fear crawling up his spine that he just fucked up, he felt no anxiety that he ruined what you two had. the only thing he felt was the need to kiss you again. and then again and again until he could no more

the rest of that night was filled with cuddles, kisses, alcohol and laughter. with talking until the early hours of the morning, with you comfortably between his legs and him wrapped around you like a blanket. that night ended with his shaky, whispered "i love you" and long, meaningful kisses from you which were quickly becoming his new addiction as you two finally parted ways, only to meet again the next day, and then the next and so on. and maybe none of you knew that, but you saved him that day. saved him from a fate he was not entirely ready for. from a life of crime and pain and severe trauma

[soyouthinkucanwrite]

Chapter 1 - intentions, a Tom Holland series

The name of the series is super random, don't mind me. No warnings. Reader is a postgraduate student at NYU, made a docuseries on her research and the show got picked up by Netflix. She goes on press tour and meets Tom on a ‘chat show’. This could be an amazing few days or more? It’s been interesting writing how they’ll deal with distance and tight schedules once ‘honeymoon’ is over...

(y/f/n) = your first name

(y/l/n) = your last name

(y/n) = your name, complete or not

1.8k words

Chapter 1 - A new city

Chapter 2 - Show time

Chapter 3 - Unexpected texts

Your docu-series was doing better than anybody expected, well, anybody but you, it was a project that you really believed in. You sold the first season to Netflix with its 10 episodes shot all in NYC and they premiered with almost no press or promotion. But still, the wholesome moments and captivating stories had already become viral and people were so impressed by you. The text was amazing, and your improvisation and good mood lifted the spirit of the whole thing, making it the new feel-good show everybody was binging and talking about.

Better late than never, Netflix decided to promote the show and so they sent you to give interviews and go on talk shows. You still didn’t have an agent, something that you were in desperate need of, because your phone was blowing up all the time with offers for publicity deals, new interviews, and even some job offers. You couldn’t think about that now, you had to focus on making this “press tour” the best possible so, in the next meeting with the Netflix executives, you could close at least two more seasons for your show (and maybe score some other deal for yourself). With all this, you still had to worry about grad school (you still had at least one more year ahead of you until you get your PhD, if you managed to get time to write the dissertation)! You’d have lost your mind for sure, if it wasn’t for your producer and partner in business, David. He was helping you schedule everything and organizing talking points for the promotion tour, but ultimately you were the face of the operation. Fair is fair, that’s why you got to find an agent ASAP.

Currently, you and David were in London for the last bit of the trip, after tomorrow, you guys were going back home to NYC. One thing at a time, you thought to yourself while he talked on the phone with his fiancé outside of the coffee shop you guys were grabbing a bite at lunchtime.

You looked outside the windows, this was your first time in London and you couldn’t stop thinking about how it looked exactly like everything you ever imagined but so much more at the same time. Just like NYC, in that sense. You smiled thinking about maybe shooting a season here someday.

“Hey! Did you order something?” David snapped his fingers and to get you out of your trance.

“Huh?” you looked up.

“Earth to (y/n)? I thought you were hungry?” He laughed at you.

“Sorry, but common, look at this city! You can’t blame me for getting hypnotized.” You answered while he went straight to the counter to order some food and beverages for you guys.

“Yeah, it's beautiful. But this weather, how can someone function with this much moisture all around? Is like the air is heavier.” He said sitting back.

“The air is heavier because of the pollution, probably.” You joked back. You always loved big cities, but that didn’t mean you’d close your eyes for their problems, you just had a better tolerance for this kind of stuff. “How’s Lukas anyway? Everything alright back home?” You asked.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. He’s just touring wedding venues. He was really happy with the sudden budget increase.” He answered.

“Well, if he waits long enough, his budget might get even bigger. Speaking of which, we got to talk to some layer about that meeting next week. I think we’d be smart to go in there with our terms very well thought about.” You said.

“Right. I’m looking into it. You worry about finding that agent. One thing is the show, the other is your image. And something tells me the more you’re valued in, the more we can negotiate for the show.” He reasoned while the waitress walked towards the table with two plates.

“Own! Is so sweet to have a friend looking out for me!” You joked and threw a napkin at him.

“I am! You’ll see that when your huge face it's on Times Square and you’re closing the deal on some penthouse at 5th.” He laughed.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes at him. David was sweet, but he wanted nothing to do with the celebrity part of this project of yours and you knew he said this kind of stuff in a condescending kind of way. He wasn’t wrong, but you also couldn’t say you didn’t enjoy the attention you were getting because of the show. Maybe he didn’t felt like that because he had Lukas, but you were more than ok to take a few selfies with strangers and doing some photoshoots here and there. You liked the attention, but as long as you were concerned, penthouses and money deals weren’t included in your idea of happiness. Regardless, everything was so new and fun. Thrilling, if you didn’t spend too much time thinking about it.

“Is everything ok for later? Is just this one today, right? Then Radio One tomorrow morning?” You asked him before taking a bite of your sandwich.

“Yes. Yes. And yes. Mary sent your clothes straight there and someone from the show will make your hair and makeup. I think we should go right after here? We’ll have some time to kill there, but I think we can hang out backstage.” He answered.

“Oh, I don’t know. I was thinking maybe we could walk around. Get to know the city? Maybe visit-”

“Excuse me?” You were interrupted by two girls, apparently close to your own age.

“Hi!” You answered happily, but you could see David recoil in his seat (probably already expecting to be asked to snap the picture).

“You’re (y/f/n) (y/l/n)? From that Netflix show?” One of them asked the blonde one.

“Yeah…its (y/l/n), actually, but that’s fine!” You laughed and tried to be friendly.

“Oh! Sorry! We thought the show was so cool and you’re so beautiful!” The other friend said, the one with black roots and blueish tips.

“That’s sweet! Thank you for telling me! David helped me produce it, did you know?” You pointed to the guy extremely uncomfortable in front of you. You loved messing with him.

“Hi.” He said uncomfortably. There was an awkward silence.

“Anyway, would you mind taking a picture with us?” The girl with blue hair asked you.

“Sure! No problem!” You answered quickly and got up to pose.

After you guys took some selfies and David took some pictures of the three of you, you insisted he was in the shot too and the girls agreed politely. He wanted to kill you, but you didn’t care, you were only messing with him. How often you had the chance anyway?

“Thank you so much! Bye!” They said as they left you two to finish your meal.

“If only every teenage with a phone was this civilized,” David said grumpily.

“You complain too much. They were sweet! And they liked our show! That’s awesome!” You seated back.

“I guess that’s pretty great.” He smiled at you. But his smile died once he looked at his clock.

“Anyway, finish eating. I don’t think we’ll have time to even hang around backstage. They told me we’d have to be there at 3” and its already 2’30!” He told you while signaling the waitress for the check.

When you got to the studio, which was in central London luckily and not far from where you guys had lunch, there was a corridor with some doors and your name was in one of them. The Graham Norton Show was super fun and guests sat together on the same couch while being interviewed at the same time. You hadn’t even thought about who the other guests would be yet, but you had to put on the outfit that Mary, the Netflix stylist, had prepared for you and get your hair and makeup done.

“Hey! Can you find out who the other guests are while I change?” You asked David.

“Sure! I’ll be right back!” He answered opening the door and letting a small middle-aged woman inside.

“Hi!” She greeted him. “I’m Rosie. Here for makeup and hair.” She announced.

“Hi! I’m (y/n)! I’ll just change real quick, do you have a cape we can put over the outfit so it doesn’t get dirty?” You asked already undressing in front of her, David was long gone by now.

“Sure, sure. We have to be quick though darling, you’re going on in 30 minutes.” She said opening the little suitcase on the counter under the mirror.

You put the dress on and sat on the chair in front of the mirror.

“You can keep it simple, all the way. I get more nervous if the hair and makeup are too pretty, afraid of ruining it with my movements and sweat. Which of course, only makes me move and sweat more!” You laughed, trying to make conversation and relax.

“Relax, you’re already beautiful! We can just make some curls and after I’m done with your skin, a good eyeliner and pink lips?” She asked. You were glad she was nice and chill about it.

“Sounds perfect! Do you know who the other guests are? We were kind of squeezed in today.” You laughed again.

“Oh! Yeah! Its -” She started to say but was interrupted but David coming abruptly inside.

“Ok! Don’t freak out!” He said.

“I already am! Why would you come in like that? What is it?” You asked already freaking very much out.

“Its Tom Hanks. And -” He said.

“WHAT? Are you serious? What the hell man?” You tried to move but Rosie pushed you back on your seat.

“Yeah. And Jake Gyllenhaal and Tom Holland. And Stormzy is singing later. They’re promoting Spider-man and Hanks is here for the new Toy Story.” He explained.

“I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m going to die.” You mumbled.

“Well, which one it is darling? I’ll just add some more blush anyway.” She laughed at your reaction.

“Fuck David, they must really be betting on us. Why else would they put us on the same couch as Tom Hanks and those guys? Super-hero guys!” You reasoned with him.

“I was thinking the same thing…” He started to talk but he noticed your expression.

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey! Relax! You’ll be great! You’ll do great! They were really excited to meet you actually! They love the show!” He told you trying to calm you down.

“Oh, man! What? They’re out there? And they want to meet me? And I’m in here? Oh boy, they must think I’m so rude!” You thought out loud.

“No! No! I told them we were late and you had to get ready. Yes, I chatted with Spider-man and Bumble Boy.” He gloated.

“Bumble boy?” You laughed at him but thanked him with your eyes because you knew he was just trying to distract you. There was a knock on the door and a stage assistant pecked inside.

“Hi! Is Miss (y/l/n) ready? We’re starting in 5 minutes.” She said.

“All ready!” Rosie answered.

“Oh lord. Thank you Rosie.” You were freaking out but didn’t want to forget to thank her.

“Oh! I forgot to mention. Gwyneth Paltrow is here too.” David said before running out of the room.

“WHAT?” You wanted to chase him but were scared to fall from low blood pressure.

[fanfics-of-marvel]

Tony dies and Natasha is devastating by her boyfriend’s death until he comes back as an angel with beautiful wings. I keep things simple so your creativity isn’t withheld. Love your work!

Hello @chuckshurleyfucks

Remember me? You sent me this really great prompt so long ago and I am really sorry this comes after so much time! :( I don’t have much time to write and often I’m away from tumblr for some time. But I told myself that I’ll finish each and every request in my inbox NO MATTER WHAT and I fianlly had the chance to write yours. :)

I really hope it resembles what you desired to read and I can only hope it was worth the wait!

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REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

Release date: 21/04/21

Pairing: Tony Stark x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Tony dies in an accident and Natasha is devastated. After the funeral, however, she has an unexpected meeting with him.

Words count: 3 139

A/N: I guess I could call it a magical AU :)

Warnings: None, maybe a little bit of angst

Requests | Masterlist

I’m not a native English speaker, so there might be spelling or grammatical mistakes.

This fic is my own work, it is not to be re-posted on this site or posted anywhere else without my knowledge and consent!

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“Tony Stark was a great man,” Rhody’s voice echoed in the capacious room in the Avengers Headquarters. “Despite being Tony Stark”.

Laughter rose among the attendants. Natasha smiled, too. For the first smile since the accident.

A picture of Tony himself filled the giant screen behind Rhody. He turned around and looked at his best friend. Nobody could see but his eyes were watery. Rhody turned back to the crowd.

“Is it me or was his head actually this size?” he said as he pointed at the enormous photo of Tony projected on the wall.

Everyone laughed again. Even louder than before. Natasha’s smile was even bigger.

‘Oh, it was,’ she thought to herself.

After the ceremony was over Natasha retired to their room. She closed the door behind her and leaned upon its massive structure. She stared at the empty bed with an even emptier gaze. It looked bigger now.

Natasha waddled to the wardrobe. She pushed the door and walked inside an even bigger room. The lights turned on automatically. It was Tony and Natasha’s private wardrobe. She walked to the hangers holding Tony’s suits. Natasha slowly slid her hand upon one of them and closed her eyes. She pictured her loved one in it on Wanda and Vision’s wedding. He was smiling, he was laughing, life was flowing through his veins.

‘Congratulations,’ he had said hugging the newlywed couple.

‘Thank you, Mr. Stark’, Vision had replied. ‘Perhaps, sir, now it is your turn,’ he had added nodding towards Natasha.

Tony had looked at his girlfriend across the garden with twinkling eyes. ‘Perhaps, it is,’ he had whispered heard only by the bride and groom.

Natasha opened her eyes and a tear slid down her face. Her skin was still moist from all the preceding crying. She let the tear flow down freely. Its final destination was on her bosoms.

Natasha walked towards another suit. She held it with both her hands and shove her face at it. She took a deep breath and breathed in the leftover aroma from Tony’s perfume. He wore this suit just a week ago. As Natasha sniffed the fabrics she could hear Tony speaking.

“All just for you, my love,” he said while unfolding the blindfold upon Natasha’s eyes.

“Tony,” she gasped at the view of the beautifully decorated gazebo in the garden surrounded by flowers and burning candles.

It was a hot summer night. The air was filled with the sweet scent of the flowers. The discreet light of the candles provided perfect view of the stars above them. Crickets played a lovely concerto.

“Tonight it’s just you and me,” Tony said with tenderness and he literally meant it for the waiters were a few droids from his Iron Legion.

The night was going as planned and Tony knew there was only one final thing missing to make it perfect.

“Nat,” he said holding Natasha’s hands. “There is something I want to ask you. But you need to close your eyes.”

Natasha curved her lips in a smile and closed her eyes. She suspected what was to follow but it still took her by surprise.

“You can open them now,” Tony said with noticeable nervousness in his voice.

Natasha opened her eyes and a specific reflected light crossed her eyes. She looked down and saw the most beautiful diamond upon a ring. Her eyes met with Tony’s. They were sparkling even brighter than the diamond.

“Nat, will you marry me?”

Natasha sobbed. She had taken the ring box out of the internal pocket of the suit jacket. She opened it and looked at the ring. It seemed even more beautiful now. Out of fear not to lose it she kept it there safe during their final mission.

Natasha let it all out. The most gruesome sound exited her. Tears were falling down her face. She leaned towards the wall and slowly slid down. She was panting. The memory was too strong, too vibrant. She laid down completely squeezing the ring box at her chest. She closed her eyes and heard the bombarding again.

Two days ago Tony and Natasha were on what seemed to be nothing more than a routine mission. There was a minor terrorist attack just outside the city in which a small group of people threw grenades and shot at the nearby houses, stores, and cars. Agents of Tony and Natasha’s class weren’t needed at all but Tony had a thing against terrorists, so he couldn’t miss destroying some more. Natasha had joined him in the last moment. She always said he needed her back up, especially on the ground. Besides, she loved watching her future husband kicking ass in his latest Iron Man suit.

Natasha was smiling playfully as she observed Tony far up in the sky threatening the puny terrorists on the ground. His voice could be heard loud and clear even down there thanks to a special technology which he had recently developed. The three men seemed terrified and were yelling some words in Arabic, their arms were in the air and they dropped their weapons.

‘Easy peasy’, everyone thought at this view. The S.H.E.I.L.D. agents were looking at Tony with admiration wishing they had what he had and hoping that someday they’d possess at least half of Tony’s authority.

Natasha was smiling smugly and was already packing her ‘toys’ which she obviously wouldn’t need during this mission when she heard it. Loud thundering sounds coming from very near. She quickly looked around trying to figure out where did the sound come from. But before she managed to make a full turn the wave from the explosions threw her few meters behind. For a moment sand and dirt fell all over her face. A high-pitched noise rang in her ears. Her head felt heavy and dizzy, the world around her was spinning.

An impenetrable fog of sand and dust surrounded Natasha. The only thing she could perceive was the distant thunders of bombing and shooting. Except that it wasn’t distant. It was right there, so very close to her but her hearing was impaired. So when she heard that raw gruesome sound of metal hitting the ground hard she hadn’t whatsoever realized it was Tony himself. Natasha closed her eyes and felt completely senseless.

When she finally opened her eyes the world was still spinning but the high-pitched sound was getting weaker. Natasha couldn’t know how long she’d been on the ground unconscious.

‘Ambush,’ she thought to herself as she groaned trying to get up. Her legs were really unstable but somehow she managed to remain standing.

“Tony,” she tried to speak but barely any sound came out of her lips.

The sound of the bombing had seized. Now she could hear some distant noise of people screaming and could distinguish silhouettes running around.

“Tony!” Natasha shouted as loud as she could. The sound was still very quiet but she started to regain her senses.

The more Natasha walked towards those people, the better she could hear and see. The fog was clearing up and everything hitherto shapeless started to fall into pieces.

“Agent Romanoff, are you alright?” Natasha noticed a fellow S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in front of her.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. What happened? Where’s Tony?”

“There was an ambush, ma’am,” the man continued speaking. “After those three terrorists seemed to be surrendering there was whole artillery that appeared out of the blue hiding underneath enormous canvases that had perfectly blended with the landscape. They hit us unexpectedly, ma’am. They threw bombs, grenades and every hellish explosive you can think of,” the man stopped talking as if there was something more which he just didn’t want to say.

“Well, where’s Tony, then?” Natasha was persistent. There was no getting out of this.

The man sighed. The dust had almost completely settled, so Natasha could see his face quite clearly. There was something bad written in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, agent Romanoff,” the man finally said pointing away in a direction to her right.

Natasha followed his finger and with terror noticed the Iron Man suit lying on the ground in a little crater.

“Tony!” Natasha shouted and ran towards him.

Due to the shock from the explosions her legs and balance were still compromised, so she tripped and fell two times until she managed to get to Tony. He was lying on his back but from the traces of the impact it was clear that he hadn’t fallen that way and had been moved from the agents.

A paramedic was examining him as Natasha walked near. Her facial expression and eyes showed fear. The strongest fear she had ever felt in her entire life. Abruptly, her whole body started trembling, she couldn’t catch breath and tears flew down her face.

Tony was lying in his forcefully opened Iron Man suit covered in blood and bruises. She could barely recognize his face which seemed twisted now. The suit had absorbed part of the impact but he had fallen from a great height.

The paramedic was looking down shaking his head. A defibrillator lied near him obviously recently used. His colleague took a deep breath and then Natasha heard the worst words in her entire life.

“Time of death,” said the second paramedic and looked at his watch. “1:03 p.m.”

“No!” Natasha screeched so loudly that the two paramedics jumped startled. They hadn’t noticed her presence beforehand.

She gathered a whole lot of looks from other agents, as well. Some of which were also still unaware of the tragedy.

“Tony,” Natasha barely made a sound as she fell on her knees next to his dead body. Tears were falling down her face and she could barely breathe.

The two paramedics discreetly recoiled. They had to take care of the body but also knew they had to give Natasha a moment.

She gently placed her hands upon his distorted face. His blood was already drying but his skin was still warm. So warm as if he was still alive. Could it be that the paramedics were wrong? Natasha slowly slid her right hand and felt his carotid. No pulse.

Why had they given up? Natasha examined more of Tony’s body. There were noticeable fractures on his chest and abdomen. He definitely had broken ribs and most likely suffered from a punctured lung for his chest was purple and bloody. Some of the blood upon his face had surely flowed from his mouth.

There was no doubt. Tony Stark was dead and the tries of the paramedics had been unsuccessful.

“Agent Romanoff,” the paramedic spoke. “I’m really sorry but we need to take the body. It’s the protocol,” he paused for a moment. “You can see his body again at the mortuary.”

Natasha knew the protocol very well. She had followed it a little too many times with fellow agents. And she always kept in mind she might have to follow it with Tony, as well. Or he with her. She had always hoped for the latter one. As cruel as it sounded to prefer to cause Tony such pain she hoped she’d never have to live it herself because she would be the dead one.

“Goodbye, Tony,” Natasha quietly said and kissed his forehead.

Then she got up and walked away. She heard the team preparing to take his body. She kept on walking and never looked back.

Natasha looked at the ring. It dispersed the light from the ceiling so beautifully that the entire wardrobe was shining bright. She hadn’t put it on ever since she took it off for their final mission together.

With trembling hands Natasha took the ring out of the box and put it on her finger. She was much calmer now. The tears upon her face had started drying. She remembered about the dinner on which he proposed to her. A smile appeared on her face. It was sad that Tony was gone but it was a virtue to have had him in her life.

“Natasha,” a barely perceptible sound.

Natasha looked up and around her. She thought she heard a noise but assumed it was nothing.

“Natasha,” there was it again. This time a little louder.

“Who’s in there?” she asked confused and a little concerned. Nobody else had access to their bedroom. “Rhody, is that you?” she got up and walked towards the wardrobe’s door. The sound seemed to be coming from the bedroom.

“Natasha,” this time she heard it more clearly.

She stopped sharply right at the door. The voice sounded like Tony’s. Her eyes got watery and her breathing stopped for a moment. Could it be?

“Nat,” he said again this time very clearly. “It’s me.”

There was a very bright white light coming from the bedroom. Natasha slowly walked out of the wardrobe. She gasped and dropped the ring box.

Tony was floating in the air just above their bed bathed with beautiful heavenly light. He was dressed in all white and behind him there were big beautiful angel wings. Even though Tony was being Tony Natasha had always known that he was just like this on the inside – a beautiful angel.

“Tony?” she said with trembling voice.

“Hello, my love.” Tony spoke with a tender and soothing voice.

Natasha’s lower lip trembled. She never thought she’d see him again.

“Tony? Is that really you?” she asked with a hoarse voice.

“Yes, my love. It’s me,” Tony replied with a gentle smile.

Natasha shook her head. This all must have been an illusion. She assumed it was the shock and all of the emotions from the past week which were playing with her mind. Or perhaps she had fallen asleep in the wardrobe.

“Come here,” Tony said as he floated down and stepped on the floor facing her. He outstretched his hands and gently placed them at the sides of her face.

Natasha shuddered at the touch. It felt so real. She lifted her hands as well. Tony’s face was warm again.

He leaned down and gently kissed her lips. Natasha’s knees felt weaker.

“How is this possible?” Natasha asked after Tony moved away.

“The ring,” Tony said as he took her hand in his. “It’s a very special stone. It’s connected to my soul.”

Natasha gasped. How?

“More magical things than Doctor Strange exist on this world,” Tony said wittily. “And I got my hands on this,” he pointed at the stone upon the ring. “As long as you wear it I will always know where you are, I will always feel you, and I will always be your guardian angel.”

“I want you back, Tony,” Natasha said with hope.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Nat,” a bitter smile.

Not the reply she wanted to hear.

“But I will always be with you,” Tony said gently fondling her cheek. “I will be a barely perceptible presence. Always there next to you, just one breath away. You might sometimes spot me with the corner of your eye. But you will never be able to see me,” tears fell down Natasha’s face. “You will always be showered in my heavenly light. And you will always be protected by my angel wings,” Tony held her left hand. “As long as you wear the ring,” he smiled softly.

Natasha looked down at her hand gently placed in Tony’s. His skin was so warm, so alive. She had to check. Her right hand slid upon his wrist. Her fingers found the spot.

Nothing.

Tony had no pulse.

“Oh, my love,” Tony whispered softly.

Natasha’s whole body was trembling. Her hand did another check-up.

Strong lively heart rate. Slightly accelerated.

“If I take my pulse away will I be able to be with you?” she stammered in tears.

“Oh, Nat,” Tony sighed. “Great things await you. The world needs your protection.”

“The world needs your protection.”

Tony fondled her face again. “The only one who needs my protection is you.”

“But I want you here with me,” Natasha burst into tears. “Next to me, all of the time. Fighting beside me, kissing me, loving me,” she was falling apart. “Please, Tony,” Natasha wrapped her arms around him and shove her face at his chest weeping.

Tony placed his hands on Natasha’s head as his wings surrounded her. Natasha calmed down in an instant. She felt completely relaxed and balanced. There was warmness and peace.

Natasha placed her ear next to Tony’s chest. But it was an empty chest. There was no treasure for her in there.

“Nat, stop searching for my heart here,” Tony said. “You know it’s there,” he placed his fingers upon her chest. “I gave it to you long time ago. And it’s where it will always be.”

Natasha felt warmness in her chest. For a moment it seemed like there were two hearts beating as one. She smiled gazing into Tony’s eyes. She didn’t want this moment to end.

“Now you need some sleep,” Tony said and holding Natasha’s hand he pulled her towards the bed.

“I don’t want to go to sleep. That means time not spent with you,” Natasha objected.

“Shhh, my love,” Tony gently placed his finger upon her lips. “I’ll be right next to you.”

He laid down on one side and his angel wing was spread on the bed. Natasha joined him and lied upon it. He embraced her with his arms and then with his wings. It took her seconds to fall asleep perfectly calm and relaxed feeling completely protected for the first time in her life.

When Natasha woke up the next morning she was alone on the bed. There was no trace of Tony. She looked at her left hand. The ring was there reflecting the light just as beautifully. She wondered about last night. Did it all happen or was it a dream? She assumed it was the latter and got out of bed. She had fallen asleep with clothes on and smutched make-up. She needed a shower.

Just as Natasha was about to walk in the bathroom she spotted a barely perceptible presence with the corner of her eye. She turned around startled but didn’t see anybody. Her breathing quickened. She rubbed her eyes assuming it was sleepiness and tiredness.

When Natasha calmed down she could swore she felt somebody else’s breath at the side of her face. She felt calm and relaxed. There was a warm feeling surrounding her. She slid her hands at the sides of her arms sinking in the feeling and closed her eyes. Her right hand touched her chest. Two hearts beating as one.

Natasha smiled. She opened her eyes and stared into the nothingness in front of her. There was something she could spot with the corner of her eye. A barely perceptible presence watching over her as her guardian angel.

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Thank you for reading! If you liked it please react - reply/like/reblog! Your support is appreciated!

This fic is my own work, it is not to be re-posted on this site or posted anywhere else without my knowledge and consent!

[skrutskie]

Well, this is a weird one.

Every time I have a book come out, I write up a blog post trying to sum up how I’m feeling about it. It’s been almost two years since the last one, and in that time I’ve been riding a pendulum of feeling like my career was either sputtering to a halt or blasting off at the speed of light. There was a long, dark period between when I finished all work on Hullmetal Girls and when we finally sold Bonds of Brass after nearly a full year on sub. Trying to move science fiction in the YA sphere is a slog uphill against a boulder that keeps saying “This has never taken off, so we’re never going to invest the marketing money in it that would actually make it take off.”

When my agent suggested we shift our approach and see if any adult publishers were interested, I was extremely wary. I had always thought that if we tried to sell this manuscript as adult, I would have to rewrite it with the intention of turning it into an adult book, matching it to the tone and feel of the adult space opera I love. Instead, we sent the manuscript to them as-is, written for a YA audience.

And Del Rey was immediately all in. It was such a surreal experience after literal years (if you count the year we spent subbing Hullmetal Girls and the time after it sold when it became clear this book wasn’t getting much in the way of house support) being told that YA sci-fi wasn’t worth anything. I was convinced we were getting bought on the condition that I’d do extensive edits to break this book away from the YA mold and turn it into some “respectable” adult sci-fi.

I was shocked to realize that the book was loved as-is.

From there, we settled into the work, and things were quiet for a while. A little too quiet at points—I was definitely worried that maybe this book wouldn’t do well enough to sustain the trilogy on its back. But then two things happened that changed everything.

The first was the cover redesign. In December, we revealed the book’s brand new cover, which we had rethought to better illustrate what Bonds of Brass is all about. The original cover felt comfortable on a shelf next to any other space opera, but this one looked more like a YA book and communicated clearly that the heart of this story was about these two guys, the bond between them, and spaaaaace.

Then, in January, the second thing. FinnPoe Twitter found the book, and everything popped off. Before that, I felt lucky if I had a few Goodreads adds a day. On that day, the book got over a thousand. The thing that astonishes me the most is that I did basically nothing. I just wrote the book, put a graphic together summarizing the tropes people might like from it, and other people chose to lift it up. That kind of marketing is something money can’t buy, and it’s given me so much ridiculous hope that maybe this book is going to be The One.

As a midlist author, every new book feels like your debut. Every new project is a chance to break out, to show the world something new, to grow your career—to maybe someday have a capital C Career. These are uncertain times for everyone, and releasing a book in the middle of a global crisis is definitely not ideal. On the one hand, people are definitely in need of entertainment that gives you the most bang for your buck, and there’s nothing better than a book for that. On the other, money is tight, stores are shuttered, and no one knows when this will end.

I don’t know what the outcome will be, but thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who’s made this my best chance yet. To my agent, who fought like hell to get this book through a brutal year on sub, to my editor, whose brilliant guidance and fannish enthusiasm brought out the best in this book, to the whole team at Del Rey, whose love and effort have made this book what it is. To my critique partners who have been with me since the start, to the old readers who are following me on this bold new voyage and the new readers taking a chance on my writing for the first time. To the reviewers and booksellers—especially those who are working from home, uncertain about the future of their employers, and still doing their damnedest to give new books the boost they need. To absolutely everyone who’s done some small part in boosting this book—for retweets, for bookstagrams, for memes on memes.

This book was and continues to be a team effort, and I’m so excited to share it with you. ❤️🚀

[masterhandss]

Hamefura Idol AU! (part 2)

Here’s a completely unrelated Katarina idol art by @Sangotofura on twitter!

This is a continuation of my first post, the one that is more of an overview of the original FL game and the original descriptions of the characters. I don’t know if I want to write a story for this, since again this is just an excuse to draw, but I’m really having fun with expanding the alternate version of the world of hamefura.

It’s a lot of fun to rewrite hamefura’s story to fit in an idol setting, so I hope you guys don’t mind if I write a bit more for my dumb au dhjgfjs

More tidbits about the ‘Game’:

The game’s name, Fortune Lover: Cinderella Idol! or “Fortune Lover”, is read as “for-tune lover” by the fans (get it? tune?? pls laugh). The ‘F’ of the name is written as a fortissimo.

In the setting for Fortune Lover, the entertainment industry is the biggest industry of all time, with music being the most popular form. It has been like this for decades, and as time progressed, people’s tastes and expectations of music evolved, leading to the creation and popularity of idols.

Idol-Producers are a new project that is testing the capabilities of a idol teen, observing how their involvement in their own success can impact how they manage their time and how they can bring the absolute best out of themselves, on their own. Maria is the first idol who will be testing this new style. She is still a producer to herself, the boys, and even Sophia and Mary if you choose to have them join you. Despite being an idol, they still call Maria their “producer” and treats her like one. 

The characters in the game are in 3D CG, as the game includes the dance choreography or “MV Mode” if you perfect the score of the rhythm game. 

While Katarina’s bullying isn’t really death threatening, it’s more in line with the petty kind like verbal threats, sabotaging Maria’s idol clothes and stage equipment, paying someone to mess up her tracks during performances, badmouthing her infront of tv show producers and hosts, and stuff like that.

Katarina’s bullying isn’t as bad as it is in the original otome game, but she gets shunned by the public because behavior like that is only supposed to be done behind the curtains. The public has such a pure and honest perception of idols that they never think of the idea that the girls who smile and sing on stage actually try to stab each other in the back when the stage lights are off. Some people think that Katarina’s character is just a persona, so knowing that she is actually an ignorant and arrogant rich girl idol-wannabe, her fans lose respect for her. Katarina’s harassment of Maria is one of the few cases that are brought to light by the end of the game, and because of how much the public loves Maria by that point, they are enraged by Katarina’s behavior, making her lose support on all sides

Katarina had been in love with Gerald ever since they were children, and while Gerald has always been a popular boy among both his peers, when she found out Gerald was going to be an idol, she disliked the idea of sharing her beloved Gerald to a huge audience of people, so she became an idol to stand alongside him and to make herself worth of him by charming him as as an idol and gaining a large following herself. Despite this, Katarina didn’t strive too hard to be a talented idol, as she was too confident on herself due to the pampering of her parents.

Even if the player doesn’t desire to romance any of the four boys, given how the game is written and how it is programmed, the boy with the highest relationship points with Maria will confess to her by the end of the game. It would be impossible to not interact and gain points with the boys, as you gain relationship points in most areas of the games (when you “practice” your characters, when you “play” their songs, when you “give” them new clothes, when you “converse” with them in story mode, etc.). In the event that there are two characters with the exact same amount of points, the game will choose a boy for you.

Sorcier Pro.’s current president is Geoffrey Stuart (for reasons that will make sense someday) 

Katarina-Gerald and Mary-Alan aren’t engaged in this au, but are constantly in each other’s presence due to most powerful bussinessmen and celebrities being good friends with each other. 

Each girl has a specialty in a certain area: Katarina with dancing, Sophia with singing, Mary with acting/drama, and Maria (according to the official description of her in the box) with fashion coordination. Maria can be seen as more of a jack of all trades though, as she does represent the player. 

While any of the boys can trigger the condemnation event that will lead to Katarina’s social suicide, the event is specifically associated with Keith and Gerald due to the severity of her presence and bullying if you have high relationship points with the two. With Alan and Nicole, Katarina’s event only happens for a few lines, but for Keith and Gerald, it takes place in complete detail, with it’s own animated cutscene. 

Gerald’s route is also the most popular among the fans, with community surveys reporting that 53% of the game’s player base had Gerald as their final chosen love interest ( 25% with Keith, 12% with Nicol and 10% with Alan)

Monkey Girl/Past-Life Katarina

Since Maria’s name can’t be change in the game, but you can give her a “nickname” that represents the username of the player, Past-life Katarina’s name in the game is “SaruP” (or “Monkey producer” lol)

Saruchan (Monkey Girl) dies before she could finish her playthrough of the game, and all of her knowledge is based on her idol-expert best friend Acchan. She’s a bit tomboyish, and she loves to climb trees and move freely without a hint of poise or shyness, and is friendly to all genders. Her love for climbing, running, gardening with her grandma, and never ending amounts of energy gave her a pretty strong, flexible, agile and energetic body.

In Saruchan’s world, idols do exist, but aren’t portrayed in the cutesy and exaggerated manner that fiction does. Though it’s no surprise to know that in her world, almost every girl had dreamed to become an idol at one point, even herself. Acchan doesn’t find the idea interesting though, as she only lives for the idealized version of idols that exist in fiction. Acchan explains that girls their age are being brainwashed by the idealized version of idols that are presented in the media that they consume, and that they should wake up and learn to enjoy the fictional idols as they are. Despite Acchan’s realistic disapproval of idol fantasies, she does love playing idol rhythm games and gacha games, and spends her allowance on getting DLC costumes for Maria in FL. Acchan even pre-ordered tickets for herself and Saruchan for an idol concert featuring the VA of the characters, that they were supposed to attend to on the day that Saruchan dies. 

She dies the game way: on her way to school and being killed by a truck that runs her over. 

The last thing Saruchan sees before she loses consciousness forever is the wallpaper of the game’s boxart from her phone screen as it flies out of her hands. 

My Next Life as an ‘Idol’?? All Routes Lead to Doom!!!

As usual, Katarina ends up remembering her future as an 8 year old kid, and plans to prepare for her future “banishment” and humiliation. She learns to farm in order to provide for herself once she gets shunned and retreats to the countryside, and (unknowingly) meets all the characters in the game and gains their good favor before the events of the game begins. 

Her head bump still happens with Gerald, but their encounter happened in a party rather than an engagement meeting, with her tripping over a rock as she decides to run to the young man in order to introduce herself. Such introductions never got past beyond their names and few exchanges of dialogue, as the bump occurred and Katarina was immediately brought to the hospital after he called for help. 

Being a girl who wanted to be an idol at one point, Katarina wanted to use this chance to fulfill her dream of becoming one! But knowing the fate that will await her, (public humiliation, isolation, and banishment to some degree) she tries to figure out ways to avoid ruining her future.

While not as bad as death, Katarina is aware that the ending of the game implies that the blemished opinion that everyone will gain of her will lead to her leading a miserable life; one that will prevent her from gaining new allies and even studying in peace without being made fun of or called out for. It might even ruin her marriage prospects, for all she knows (it doesn’t but she’s too stupid to know that). The stakes of the bad ending aren’t life threatening, but it is personal, as Katarina always dreamed of becoming an idol as a teen and doesn’t like the idea of being able to enjoy it for a few months only to be dragged down to hell right afterwards.

The Claes is a wealthy family known for her father’s knowledge and skills when it comes to trades and business, and for her mother’s beautiful opera singing voice and celebrity presence. As usual, Katarina’s father adopts Keith for the purpose of gaining a direct heir for the business, in fear that Katarina’s future significant other might just to interested in her to gain it. 

Katarina’s plan is to learn how to farm in order to be able to support herself after her banishment, give Keith lots of love so he doesn’t end up becoming a playboy like in the game, and to train herself in dancing and singing in order to not embarrass herself like the original Katarina did. After meeting Gerald again and realizes his weakness, she eventually prepares (or buys, since the setting is modern) toy snakes that she can use to surprise him whenever the condemnation event occurs, using his shocked and panicked reaction as a way to distract the media from the claims that will surely fall upon her (since no one would have expected the calm and collected Gerald Stuart to scream like a girl at the sight of a toy snake, right? That would stay in the headlines for weeks! maybe).

As a kid, she has private singing tutors, and takes more general singing classes when she gets older. She doesn’t have dance training as a kid, but she does like to exercise and move her body around, so it slowly turned into the stamina-filled flexible body that she is used to. 

Katarina and Keith - Their meeting and impressions are mostly the same, which the difference being that Katarina used a display axe above a fireplace to break down the door, and Keith got her injured by accidentally pushing her off a pretty high cliff in the Claes grounds while they were both running and playing chase (rather than being isolated for dangerous Earth Magic, Keith as a child was a clutz who attracted danger to everyone around him, making his older brothers make fun of him for being “cursed”).

Katarina showers him with love, making him affectionate towards his step sister, in the same as he was in the original material.

When Keith finds out about Katarina’s desire to train to become an idol, he is very supportive of her, and decides to train with her in order to be able to stand by his sister on stage (as well as to generally gain the same interests as her in order to guarantee that they will stay close as they age). The contrast being that instead of becoming an idol to gain the adoration of millions of nameless faces, he now wants to become an idol to gain the love and attention of a single person, which is Katarina uwu. 

Katarina and Gerald - Gerald eventually attempts to visit Katarina to apologize for the incident, expecting her to blame him for what happened, given the personality she showed him. He was shocked to find a scar on her forehead, farming while wearing a farmer’s attire despite coming from a wealthy and esteemed family, singing and dancing to a song as she waters her vegetables. He watches for only a minute, unable to look away from the girl who danced like deflating balloon and sang off key while almost drowning her small vegetable in water. She looked weird, but she was having the time of her life, and he could see and hear it from where he stood.

 In a daze, thinking he might have entered the wrong house by accident or walked on the daughter of a maid doing chores. He walks out and leave the Claes estate without a word, and visits again after only a few days, as he couldn’t get his mind off of the oddity that he had witnessed. 

He eventually realizes that it was Katarina on his second visit, as he finds the scar of the odd farmer girl on the same girl who boasted about her family’s wealth in the party. After giving formal introductions, Gerald offers to walk around the garden to get to know each other better, in order to continue the conversation that she had originally forced on him back in the party (it was done to be polite and respectful, rather than any interest to continue). In the garden, they pass by the area that Katarina had planned to turn into her farm, and Gerald was in awe at how unorganized and messy everything looked (there was dirt everywhere, the tools were left on the floor because she had to prepare to meet him, there was more bags of manure than what was even needed etc! Katarina internally cursed at her 8 year old delicate rich girl body for not having the same arm strength as her 17 year old self). It was then that it sunk in that the adorable singing and dancing farming girl that he accidentally saw really was Katarina Claes. She wasn’t the very definition of abnormal, but she was nothing like the daughters of his father’s friends that cried when not attended to or complained when not given the best dresses and shoes. There was no shred of worry about her family’s expectations in her eyes, nor expectations of him to act like his perfect and matured self whenever they met in parties, movie premiers or social events, which made him yearn for her company. 

After finding out about Katarina’s desire to become an idol one day, Gerald secretly planned to do the same (and even have her recruited in his brother’s agency) in order to become closer to her through her love of entertainment and to have a chance to be constantly in her presence. When he found out about the charms that male idols have on their female fans, he also plans on using this as an opportunity to gain both her attention and romantic affection, by perfecting his (already maxed out) charms as male idol. 

Katarina and Mary - The two met during a part hosted by Mary’s mother in the Hunt Estate, inviting all of her mother’s old opera acquaintances, sponsors and co-workers for a formal reunion. Katarina and Keith accompanied their parents to the party, leading them to be introduced to the Hunt Family’s daughters. As usual, Katarina had the urge to “release the chocolate shark” during the party and takes an elegant leave. She eventually gets lost in the estate and finds herself in the garden. Katarina was in awe of the garden’s beauty, and stood still as she watched what seemed like beautiful siren sing by herself near a majestic fountain, with a single rose in hand. 

Mary was surprised to hear an aggressive applause after singing to herself. Katarina aggressively complimented Mary for her adorable yet elegant voice, and asked who she was seeing as a singing trainer. When Mary replied that she was not having any singing or vocal training, Katarina rains even more compliments down, claiming that “her voice was that of an angel!”. Mary denied it, so Katarina proceeded to sing the same song that she had sang, as a point of comparison to make her feel more confident in herself. Mary shyly and unexpectedly joins her, and they ended up having a small and quiet duet in the garden. Katarina’s voice sounded a bit rough and squeak-ish, but alongside Mary’s elegant and controlled singing, they didn’t sound bad at all. 

When Katarina finds out that Mary is also the one who tends to the flower garden, she proceeds to shower Mary with even more compliments, and asks her to visit and help with her own farm garden. Being complimented for having a beautiful voice and a green thumb made her feel validated and appreciated, so she often visits the Claes household in order to be in constant presence of her first and dearest friend. The rest is the same.

When Mary found out about Katarina’s dream of becoming an idol, she started taking intense vocal training as well as various exercises in order to be able to join her in her endeavor. She slowly built a more brazen and tough personality in order to be able to join and protect her friend from the rumored cold and intense reality of the idol world, as well as due to the antics of her friends. 

Katarina and Alan - From Mary, she eventually finds out that the event where Mary duets and falls in love with Alan occurred. Katarina realizes that duet must not have been that effective because she has done the same with Mary, but is confident that Mary is in love with him because Alan is a very talented and handsome individual. A few days later, the fourth Stuart son bursts into the doors of the Claes household, and demands to meet with Katarina. She learns that Alan had developed a small crush on Mary, and that he wants to challenge Katarina for her hand. Same shenanigans ensues, leading up to the piano duel where his talents in the piano was in full display to everyone in the manor. 

Katarina knew how to play the piano (just the basics though), so she was in awe listening to someone who almost sounded like a pro! Alan runs off after Gerald compliments him, Katarina chases after him, and they got to talk behind a bush. Alan wouldn’t take her compliments, but Katarina aggressively insisted that his talents are nothing to scoff at. 

When Alan says that he’s sure that his brother can play just as good, if not better than him, Katarina speculates that it wasn’t the case, because everyone had things that they are good and bad at. Not everyone is the same, no one learns at the same pace, and that she’s sure even if Gerald can play the piano better than him (and she doubts he can in the first place), no one can play the piano like Alan can. The scores in his heart are his alone, and that nothing is more beautiful than the melody that the heart enacts. Katarina knew that the score he played wasn’t an existing one, and knowing Alan’s character from the game, it’s probably either an impromptu score or one he had composed by himself. Her guess was correct, leading Alan to be caught off guard by her compliment, almost feeling emotional as no one had ever guessed and believed that the music he played was his own, until Katarina did. 

She shows off the power of the toy snake to Alan, making him laugh and see his brother in a different light. He still constantly visited Katarina for their duels, but as time progressed, he lost the affection for Mary (as he saw her as a little sister now after interacting with her in the Claes Household) that made him want to challenge Katarina. They still followed up on those challenges, for fun rather than for sport. 

When he finds out about Katarina’s dream to become an idol, he is determined to join her in order to be able to compose songs and melodies that she can sing, intending to bring out the absolute best of his muse’s voice with his own music. Someone his age might not be fit to compose songs for an idol, so he intends to become one as well in order to gain a reputation as a competent composer. 

Katarina and Sophia - The two meets at an afternoon party hosted by the Stuarts, as a celebration for the birthday of the twins. Katarina had to “powder her noes” after a few trips to the buffet table, and leaves Keith and Mary. She’s chased down by a dog, climbs up a tree, and accidentally watches a group of kids and older bully a small girl who sounded like she was about to cry. The same events occur, up to their second encounter in the party. Katarina accidentally quotes a line from a novel that she was reading, and after realizing that Sophia understood her reference, she asked for them to meet again in order to discuss their similar interests. 

Everything is pretty much the same, the difference being that somehow idols were brought as a topic of conversation, with Sophia revealing that she is actually a huge fan of idols. Katarina, feeling reminiscent of her idol-expert best friend Acchan, tells her that she actually wants to be an idol herself and insists that Sophia tell her about everything she loves about idols. Sophia, who is surprised to also find another idol fan who is as young as her, becomes even more excited and tells her all about her love for idols: how they are able to wear such adorable outfits onstage, how they sing songs that carry so much meaning, how they carry their fan’s dreams with them when they dance and sing, how amazing it is to be able to juggle so many occupations at once, and much more. 

With both love of novels and idols, Sophia constantly finds herself in the Claes Household in order to talk to Katarina about books, idols, song recommendations etc. 

When Sophia was first told that Katarina wanted to be an idol, she was very supportive of her and announced herself as Katarina’s number one fan. As time passed, she realized she wasn’t just satisfied with just watching Katarina from afar, she wanted to sing and dance alongside her! She wants to use her knowledge of romance novels and idols to help make herself and Katarina the best idols to ever exist! She wants to sing on stage about her feelings: about how much she loves Katarina, idols and their beloved novels!

Katarina and Nicol - When he found out that someone had invited his little sister to a small book club, he was very wary, thinking that she was one of the many other girls who tried to use Sophia in order to become closer with him. He was shocked to realize that that was not the case, and that Katarina had barely seen him at all, and had opened his timid little sister’s heart. When Sophia asked Katarina if she found her appearance creepy, Nicol proceeds to explain further, expecting to see a hint of guilt or displeasure from Katarina Claes, only for both of them to be met with unyielding determination to have Sophia as a close friend. Sophia went home that day in tears, thankful to have found a friend who truly wanted to stick by her side. 

The Claes siblings often visits their home so the girls can have their book club, even bringing Mary Hunt with them occasionally. Katarina, while looking a bit flustered, is capable of having a conversation with him without averting her eyes, which was a breath of fresh air to the countless camera crew, staff, visitors and even strangers who couldn’t look him in the eyes because how of how much of a beautiful child model he was. It all leads up to the moment where Katarina compliments him with how blessed he is to have such a beautiful and wonderful family, which contrasted against the ignorant adults who pitied him for having parents who refused to abuse the potential of his beautiful face and for not being as beautiful as their son, as well as for having a freakish looking sister. 

Nicol, just like his sister, desired to constantly be in Katarina’s positive presence, and visited her often, leading them to be acquainted and friends with the entire group that Katarina enraptured. 

When he found about his sister’s and Katarina’s desire to become idols, Nicol thought of doing the same, in order to be able to continue to watch over and protect both Sophia and Katarina, as well to be able to continue being close with Katarina (as their lack of similar interests and age gap might lead her away from him, but tbh that is never gonna be a problem with Katarina). He also plans to use his influence as a child model to propel Sophia and Katarina’s careers, as a way of supporting his two favorite girls. 

Notes

I’m not sure how I feel about Gerald’s backstory, I might rewrite that if anyone kindly wants to critique it.

Instead of Mary’s green thumb, it’s her voice that leads her to Katarina and Alan, but I still think Sophia would still have a better singing voice than her, so both her voice and green thumbs both play a part in her character. Mary’s high pitched voice gets a bit deeper as she ages, while Sophia’s voice stays very high.

I really like the idea that rather than the original ambitions and goals that leads the harem to become idols in Fortune Lover, now it’s the effect of Katarina’s constant insistence and declarations of becoming an idol that leads to everyone doing the same. In this timeline, the harem probably wouldn’t have thought of (or planned early) becoming an idol if Katarina never brought it up. 

I’m writing this at midnight again, lol, but yeah I’m not planning on writing a fanfiction for this, I guess, but I do want to have an established plot so rather than chapters, I’m just writing a full overview for fun haha

When I mentioned that Sophia loved idols, I didn’t realize that I might have accidentally implied that she was just as an idol fan as Acchan was, but with actual idols this time, so I went with :DD

I’ll touch up on Idol Katarina, Anne, Maria, Sirius/Raphael and Fortune Lover 2 in the next one.

I’m really happy that there are people who actually read my previous post and said that they liked it! Feedback and suggestions are appreciated! I still need a final name for the units so help me pls hahaha.

I’ll rewrite this post when I feel like adding/changing stuff.

[missmentelle]

Tips for following and managing deadlines in college and as an adult? I didn’t realize adulthood requires so much paperwork

Adulthood does require a lot of paperwork (as does my specific job), and I have also sometimes struggled to keep up with it at times! I have ADHD that I manage without medication, and that has required me to come up with a lot of creative strategies for managing deadlines and responsibilities. If you’re struggling, I recommend:

Use the technology that’s available. There are a lot of apps and programs out there to help you keep track of things, and many of them are free. Ideally, look for apps that you can sync across multiple devices. I personally relied on Google Calendar to get me through graduate school - you can enter deadlines and tasks, and set up reminders for yourself to jog your memory. It also gives you a visual look at your schedule, so you can see where you have space to slot extra tasks into your day. In addition to Google Calendar, I recommend checking out Any.Do, Habitica, Bear, EverNote, and 24Me. You can also use the built-in reminder app on your phone, and if remembering to jot things down is a struggle for you, iPhone users can verbally tell Siri to set a reminder for them - I use this function of Siri several times per day. There is no shame in being dependent on technology to manage your life; there are great programs out there, and it’s okay to use the tools that are available. It doesn’t matter which app you choose, or how many apps you choose - it’s about finding a system that works for you.

Try bullet journalling or using an organizer. If technology just doesn’t work for you, you can also try using pen-and-paper methods to keep your life on track. You can find pre-made organizers and agendas at any bookstore, complete with calendars, to-do lists and daily agendas. If you want more control over format, you can also look into starting a bullet journal. It may take a while to set up your bullet journal and get the hang of using it, but when you’re done, you have a fully customized organizational system that can help you track whatever needs tracking in your life. I personally use a bullet journal, and I find it immensely helpful. 

Invest in a filing cabinet. Shoving important documents into random drawers and cupboards is an excellent way to not be able to find those documents when you need them. Invest in a small filing cabinet, and take an afternoon to sort and label your important papers. All your essential ID documents, school paperwork, financial paperwork, etc, should be properly sorted and labelled so that you know exactly what documents are where. The time that you spend creating and setting up this system will save you a lot of panicked hours digging through random piles of paperwork you shoved into a drawer in the future. 

Automate whatever tasks you can. If your bill payments can be automated, do it. If you have products that you regularly use, set up an automatic order of them on Amazon. If you’re going on vacation and don’t want to waste hours emailing everyone to let them know, set up an automatic reply that lets people know when you’ll be back. If it can be automated, automate it. The best way to keep track of deadlines is to minimize the number of deadlines you need to keep track of. You’ll save yourself a lot of time and stress.

Write everything down. The easiest way to miss a deadline is to forget to write it down. Never assume that you are going to remember something just because you promised yourself you would. If you have something you need to remember, jot it down, enter it into whatever organizational tool you are using, and make sure you set a reminder. Seeing all your tasks written out can help you figure out which deadlines are coming up first, and plan your time accordingly.

Do chores on a schedule. Trying to wing your deadlines and household chores is a really awesome way to find yourself frantically doing laundry at 2 in the morning because you have a big presentation in the morning and you’re totally out of clean clothes. Figure out a regular weekly schedule for your chores, and enter them into your calendar. Not only will this help you visualize how much time your chores take up every week, but doing chores regularly saves you a lot of time and energy - it’s much better to spend 10 minutes per week wiping down the shower stall, rather than spending 3 hours trying sandblast a month’s worth of soap scum off the tub.

Break large projects down into small, manageable chunks. Let’s say you have a huge term paper due three months from now at the end of the semester. Your grades and sanity both depend on you not waiting until the last minute to write that paper. But when you think about how much work needs to be done to write that paper - thinking of a topic, researching, outlining, writing, proofreading, citing, formatting, etc - it’s easy to get completely overwhelmed, and procrastinate working on the paper until the 11th hour. Instead of having an all-out, last-minute panic, start by breaking large projects down into tasks that don’t seem so daunting. If you need to write a 20-page paper with at least 10 cited sources, start by giving yourself 2 weeks to find 5 good sources to cite. Then in the next two weeks, find 5 more sources to cite. Then in the two weeks after that, write the outline. You get the picture. When tasks are broken down, it becomes a lot less overwhelming to do them, and you make much better progress. 

Learn to prioritize. There are two things you need to think about when you’re trying to prioritize a task - how urgent it is, and how important it is. An urgent task is one that has to be done soon; an important task is one that has a very important outcome for you. All the tasks in your life fall somewhere on the urgent-important spectrum. If tax deadline is in three days and you haven’t filed yet, filing your taxes is both urgent and important. Taking the garbage out when the can is full is urgent, but not important - nothing in your life will go terribly wrong if you don’t do it. If you want to be a writer someday, working on your writing is important, but not urgent - there’s no deadline, but your life will be hugely negatively impacted if you don’t do it. In general, when you’re prioritizing, tasks should be done in the following order: important + urgent > urgent but not important > important but not urgent > neither important nor urgent. Sometimes, prioritizing means letting things slide if they aren’t worth the time and effort to do them. When you’re a student, this often means taking a hard look at how important something is. If you have a pop quiz tomorrow that’s worth 2% of your grade, and a midterm in two days worth 25% that you are completely unprepared for, your best bet is to take a quick skim of your pop quiz notes and spend the bulk of your time studying for the midterm, even if it means getting a mediocre grade on the quiz.

Overestimate how much time you’ll need to complete a project. How much time do you think it’s going to take you to finish that homework assignment that’s due next week? Think about all the contingencies - assume that you get stuck a couple times and have to scour the internet for answers, or call up your friend who took the class last semester. Maybe you estimate that the assignment should take 4 hours total to complete. Perfect - now schedule yourself 6-8 hours to actually get it done. People tend to dramatically overestimate their own efficiency, and underestimate the time it takes them to actually finish important tasks. If you don’t want to be scrambling all the time, the best thing you can do is intentionally overestimate how much time you need. 

Do a regular “life audit”. Every 1-2 weeks, block out some time to sit down and take stock of everything that’s going on in your life. How did the previous week go? Did you get everything done that you needed to? Is there anything you need to catch up on? What are the things that are coming up in your life? What needs to get done this week?  Are you making progress toward your goals? How’s the household chore situation? What do you need to prioritize for the week ahead? Is there anything that you’re wasting too much time on? Are there any papers or files that you need to put away in your filing cabinet before they get lost? Checking in with yourself regularly gives you a chance to catch small issues before they can snowball into enormous problems. 

Staying on top of deadlines is a skill, and it’s easy to mess up every now and then. We all do it. The key is to keep trying, and to keep striving for improvement. 

Best of luck to you!

[dreamcatcherjiah]

Hi there! Was wondering if I could get a college! Yoongi x college! Reader story please? 🥺💜

Hello love!! Thank you so much for requesting!! I love writing for Yoongi, I always start with an idea and it ALWAYS gets away from me, anyways... I hope you enjoy this love!!

Pairing: college!Yoongi x college!reader 

Word count: 1.5k

The quiet kid from your composition class was sitting a few tables away from you, writing at lightning speed on his yellow notebook while you were here, with a blank slip of paper and your hopes of actually passing this class flying off the window. How could he sit there every day since the first week of the semester, headphones on and a distant look on his face, and compose and compose? Some days it was music sheets, others that damn yellow notebook he carried around even in the cafeteria. His friends teased him about it endlessly, particularly that short cute dance major who shared a room with the artsy kid. You had been sharing spaces with them for four years, always envying the loud camaraderie they shared. Maybe the reason why you had writers' block just in time for your composition final project was that you spent too much time thinking about the group of seven men that caught your attention wherever they went. They tended to do that, command every look in any room they walked into, without noticing of course, because they were the most down-to-earth they could get; maybe that exclusive image they gave off was simply there because they were so close the mere idea of someone else entering their group was too ridiculous to even try.

Deciding you weren’t going to get inspiration sitting around on this dusty library, you picked up your computer and mini keyboard, packed everything and left. The patch of grass just outside the building called to you, but you kept walking through the corridor connecting with the main building and the lecture hall. There was a place very few people knew about, a small patio like structure next to the parking lot in the basement of building one, the columns supporting the concrete weight of the first floor covered in ivy leaving a sunlit space in the middle where some picnic tables had been placed a long time ago. You had discovered the place in your second year, needing to find a place where the loudness of students and teachers wouldn’t reach you. Going down the stairs from the first floor down to the ground level, you breathed in relief as you saw not one student lying about in the cobbled floor around the tables. Letting go of the glass door behind you, you turned around surprised when a low grown reached your ears. Behind you stood Min Yoongi, the quiet kid. He was rubbing his forehead, probably where the glass door had hit him when you passed through, catching him unsuspecting.

“Were you following me?” you ask, incredulous and rooted to that same spot, surprised into stillness.

“You left,” he said, accusingly and as if explained everything, still rubbing his nose as he passed next to you and started taking all his own equipment and notes from his backpack, looking as if he had shoved everything in a rush, not even bothering to unplug the portable battery from his laptop.

“Well, yes,” you answered, with your mouth still hanging open and looking completely dumbfounded, “I wasn’t getting anything done and I thought I might change locations… but why am I exactly telling you all this? You were the one who followed me here, remember? I should be the one getting answers out of you.”

He mumbled something you didn’t get, so you got closer to him and went around the table to face him. He was busy organising the papers into neater piles and restarting his computer, he wasn’t exactly looking at you but somehow you knew he was acutely aware of where you were standing and the fact that he was the sole focus of your attention.

“I didn’t quite catch that, could you repeat it a tiny bit louder?” you prompted, at which his cheeks turned red and he stopped fidgeting for a moment.

“I said that I write better when you’re there,” he mumbled and went back to messing with his stuff.

Stunned into silence, you sat down at the table and looked at him open-mouthed. Did he just admit that he had been in the library because you went there, and had followed you to the picnic area because he wrote better when you were close? Nah, you were getting ahead of yourself, big time. No, this was not it, he had to mean something else. And who did he think he was, cutely blushing and admitting that kind of thing, when his presence only distracted you and made you unable to concentrate enough to put two notes together?

“Good for you!” you managed to say when he plopped himself in the seat in front of you, across the table. “I, on the other hand, get distracted with you looking so productive destroying that yellow notebook of yours. You make me feel so useless sitting there all… all abstracted and ultra-productive, what do you even write in this damned notebook?” you ask, snatching it from behind his music sheets before he can stop you.

There she is, back at it again

Making me regret the distance

Finishing my jigsaw puzzle

With the thousand things, I want to tell her

But lack the courage.

One day she’ll walk away

And I will still be here,

Regretting the growing distance.

He managed to take the yellow pages from your hands, but you had read enough. That wasn’t about you, no chance. It wasn’t possible that he had been looking at you the same way you had been looking at him for four years.

“It is enough that my friends tease me about it, but you could look a bit less disgusted, you know? I was planning to tell you… someday.” He said. His face was incredibly red and his head dropped, his chin nearly touching his chest, trying to hide the redness from you.

“But your friends tease you because you take the notebook everywhere,” you say, dumbly and regret it instantly. You could do without putting your own foot in your mouth. Shut up, idiot.

“I only take the notebook out when I’m composing,” he was saying, now a bit more calmed. A smirk found its way to his lips. “Or when I see you. I wanted to give it to you, but never found the perfect moment…”

You were still looking at him as if you could not figure him out but started taking your things out of your bag. He seemed comfortable enough around you and the day was taking a turn for the better, so why not stay in this table and work with the cute, shy man sitting with you?

“Why did you say you can’t work when I’m there?” he asked you, making you choke on the iced tea you were drinking. Was this a good moment to tell him you had kind of been stalking him and his friends ever since first year? That you took composition, even though it was an elective, because you admired how easy writing songs came to him and wanted to learn? That you thought the way his nose scrunched when he smiled was cute and that was why you got side-tracked so often?

“Because I’m an idiot,” you said, and proceeded to face-palm right after. You could bet that now you were blushing more than he was.

He started laughing and not that shy chuckle that you could recognise everywhere now, but a deep sound coming from his chest as he roared with laughter, folding over and showing you that lovely gummy smile. You’d made him laugh like that?

“Okay, idiot,” he managed to say while taking deep breaths to calm down, “well, I personally think you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

You huffed and blew your hair from your forehead, not knowing if you should be feeling flattered or offended. Maybe the first one, one hundred per cent.

“Tell you what?” Yoongi spoke and he stood up from his side of the table to sit beside you, moving all his things around to work next to you. “I’ll help you with your composition project and you help me with mine. I hate this elective; you should help me since I took it because you did.” He winked.

“I TOOK IT BECAUSE YOU TOOK IT!” You shouted, pointing a finger at his face, accusingly, partly to distract him from the fact that you had liked that wink a bit too much.

“Well then, we’re a pair of idiots, now open that laptop and get composing, we should get this done fast so we can get to the fun stuff,” he ended the sentence in a whisper, moving his eyebrows up and down.

“What’s the fun stuff?” you were hopeful that it would be something like going for a coffee, or raiding some old music shop…

“History of Music.”

You groaned.

[moody-bloosh]

moth to a flame (Risotto Nero)

passione project time, i know i haven’t finished any of the series im working on but i have no self control so here it is. wow, im so so happy to finally be able to share this story with you all, i’ve been working on this since 2019 and i am so so glad that this first part is done. y’all know this was supposed to be a story with abbacchio. but while i was coming up with the finer details of what i wanted the story to be i felt like risotto fit the story more. so anyway here it is. also this is a bit of a spicy piece, so please be warned. I think this is one of the heaviest fics I’ve ever written so please skip this if you are feeling faint. 

also finally i wrote a cheating au with risotto! but this time, you guys are the ones cheating!! i had another one planned but mayhaps, please enjoy this food for the time being. uwu 

i hope you all enjoy this beCAUSE I SURE DID ENJOY WRITING THIS SUFFERING. also fem!reader im sorry i couldnt write this with gender neutral pronouns :( 

content warning: cheating, domestic abuse

pairings: (mentioned) Diavolo x Reader, Risotto Nero x Reader 

“We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.” - Aemon Targaryen, A Game of Thrones 

You are not his.

He knows that, he knows that very well. But still, he tempts fate. Because what is he to do when the love of his life belongs to another man? Belongs in fact, to the strongest man in all of the land: the Emperor, himself, Diavolo.

It is routine for him now, to visit you long after the Emperor has left your bedchambers. He clasps the jar of soothing balm in his hands and when he is sure that there are no more prying eyes trained on you or him. He slowly knocks on the door. He makes sure to vary each knock so that you know it is him and no one else. 

He hears you shuffle around your room and then your small voice comes through the door, telling him to, “please, come in.” 

Risotto steels himself; he has seen more horrific things in his life, in his line of work, it is inevitable. But he can never quite get used to the sight of your bruised up body as you open the door for him. 

As always, your smile is radiant, beautiful, unhindered even by the bruises that dot your body. He brings a trembling hand over your cheek, to brush against the bright red mark left undoubtedly by the emperor’s own hand. You lean into his cold touch, a soothing balm against your burning cheek. And your heart grows heavy at the thought of him standing outside your door, privy to all your crying and pleading. 

“I am sorry you had to witness all that unpleasantness, Risotto.”  

He kisses you on your forehead as gently as he can. So that he doesn’t cause you any more pain than necessary. 

“I am sorry I cannot protect you from him, your majesty.” 

And though some part of you hates it, some part of you wants him to just take you away. You know that doing so would only be a death warrant. No, he could not protect you from Diavolo now. But someday soon, if Heaven was kind enough. Soon you could do as you wished, but for now you had to endure. You had to survive. 

Some day, some day Diavolo would receive his comeuppance. But for now, you would hide your fangs and bide your time. 

it was much easier passing time when you had Risotto by your side, after all. 

When Risotto enters your chambers he is no longer just your bodyguard. He is your beloved, the only man who has ever treated you with a shred of sincere kindness since you entered the palace. You can still remember the day he had been introduced to you. All doom and gloom, a monster in the shape of a man, you had thought. And Diavolo had smirked at the sight of your fear. 

You were so frightened by his strange eyes, but upon closer inspection. You found something familiar lurking within them. So even though it frightened you, you resolved to be kind to him, you decided to give him all the love you were not given a chance to devote to the Emperor. 

Because you saw little parts of yourself in him, someone broken, someone lost, someone cast out. And you had hoped that perhaps, if you could befriend him, you could stave off the loneliness that you believed you would be resigned to. 

For someone like him, who knew only of taking and destroying, for you to gift him with softness and tenderness, how could he ever have stood a chance? Before he knew it, you had planted yourself firmly into the labyrinth of his heart. Where once he had hoped only to serve you, to protect you… He found himself wanting you, desiring you for himself. 

Though in the past, he had attempted to deny his feelings for you, he gradually found that it was as futile as attempting to count the stars in the sky. He was drawn irrevocably to you, the sweet Empress with a smile that could warm even his cold, blackened heart. 

The two of you were permitted to be together only under the cover of darkness. In the pitch black secrecy that night offered, he could call you his and you could call him wholly and truly yours. 

He treats your wounds and bruises as calmly as he can though it breaks his heart each and every time to see you so battered. Every fresh bruise has him imagining how he will kill Diavolo, how he will make him suffer as you have suffered. And this he will never admit out loud, but some deep, dark part of him marvels at how you have managed to last this long. He thinks that perhaps in some twisted way, even Diavolo, himself, was not immune to your charms. 

He takes on a dangerous expression as he considers the Emperor. The man who was the primary cause for all your suffering. And you reach out to him with a soft touch, you ruffle his hair playfully and bring him out of his dark thoughts. 

“Tonight, let us not think of displeasing things, my love. I don’t want to waste any of these precious moments I have with you, after all.” 

As you leaned in to kiss him, he would hold you. And when you pulled back for a breath, he would pepper feather light kisses all over your face. He would touch you with a softness you never would have known that he would be capable of. Some days he indulges, he holds you while you sleep. Some days he is weak and with your permission, he gives in to his more carnal desires. Usually, he holds your hand as you fall asleep. 

And always, before you drift off to sleep, you tell him. 

“I love you.” 

Risotto always tells you that he does not deserve your love. But you had simply thought that such declarations were simply part of his reserved, humble nature. 

You had no idea that it was because there was a weight around his heart that prevented him from truly reciprocating your affections. He had a secret, a secret not even you were allowed to know. 

But he was your darling, beloved Risotto… Your only friend, your only ally. 

He could never hurt you… could he? 

“Serve the Empress well as her bodyguard,” Diavolo instructs. 

He doesn’t even bother to look at Risotto when he issues his commands. His gaze is trained only on the portrait of you set haphazardly in a corner of his room. Later, he will instruct some servant to set it up properly before your arrival. He had to keep up appearances after all. 

“And when the time comes that I have no more need of her…” 

Risotto keeps his eyes trained to the floor. He is impassive, already used to whatever outlandish thing the Emperor demands of him. These days he wonders, if he had known you sooner, would he have reacted differently? 

“Eliminate her.” 

Risotto bows, “as you wish, Imperatore.” 

That night replays in his mind like bleeding out on the floor. It cuts into him, day in and day out, never fully healing. He feels the wound grow deeper whenever you smile and look at him like he is all the good in the world, whenever he feels your soft breath against his chest as he holds you on nights that are too difficult, whenever you tell him you love him… 

He holds you tighter then and you remain blissfully unaware as to his true function. You think that he is simply being sweet with you, so that will prompt you to hug him back. You nuzzle against him and you tell him that you love him. Not knowing that your kindness, your tenderness, only twists the knife lodged in his heart. 

“I will protect you, _____,” Risotto tells you quietly. “I swear it.” 

“I have no doubt of it,” you say, a radiant smile blooming on your lips as you look up at him. “I feel safest when I am with you, my love.” 

He kisses you then. He feels guilty, he feels delirious, he is so in love with you. That is why, he doesn’t want to tell you, he doesn’t know how to tell you. And how could he? How could he bring himself to reveal that he was sworn to end your life should the Emperor wish it? So he kisses you instead, as if that will solve everything. 

He hopes that you can forgive him for his selfishness. 

He loves you. He loves you more than anything in this world. 

And that is why he cannot tell you. 

All he can do is hope that the day should never come that he is to end your life. 

Until then he will serve you with all his might, he will comfort you when you weep in his arms, he will kiss you with all the passion he keeps barely restrained, he will bring you the medicine you so desperately need to treat the scars and bruises that pop up more and more frequently when your husband visits. And on nights where the Emperor is far away and there are no eyes trained on the two of you, he keeps you company, he keeps your bed warm.

He is your bodyguard, sworn to protect you even at the cost of his own life. And yet, he does not even know how to protect you from himself.