#been doing all sorts of things I'm now managing my inbox

[cerastes]

hey drimo i am once again turning to you for life advice, and if this one is too much i totally get it but your advice has always either helped with my issue or put my mind at ease to better handle it myself

what should I do about trying to reconnect with a friend i haven't spoken to in almost a decade? full disclosure I had a crush on them in school but never made those feelings known- now that we're adults and i've gleaned that we actually still have shared interests I'd like to get back in touch either platonically or romantically but have no clue how to go about it or if I even should.

thoughts swirl in my head such as "what am i expecting to get out of this", "what if they don't even remember me", and "top 10 funniest ways this could go badly" but I would just like to ask: have you been on either ends of a similar situation? What Would/Did Drimo Do?

The first thing you have to do is not imagine the worst case scenarios off rip, you are only setting yourself up for failure if you do. The best expectations to have are the realist ones, and that means you have to operate based on your current information: If you were friends in high school, then your chances are better instead of worse. I'm not saying "things are gonna work out exactly how you want them to", because my crystal ball is unfortunately broken and I can't peek into the future, and neither can you, but realistically? You'll be fine if you want to reconnect, so with that in mind, the door is not locked.

Now, the real issue here isn't about "will they remember me", they most likely will, the true questions here are one you made yourself, and one you haven't: "What am I expecting to get out of this?" and "How exactly will that first interaction go?"

Let me start with number 2. The thing about talking to someone for the first time over a decade is that there's intent in there, and this ties with the first question. It's not just you who will think about that, the other person will also be like "Oh! My friend from over 10 years ago! Nice! Ok but why are they talking to me now?" Now, you are not going to ask them to spot you 150 dollars to help you pay rent or anything like that, of course, so there's the other, more benign options: Do they want to reestablish contact because they missed me? Do they want something out of me? What's the deal here? Put yourself in their spot: Why is someone from 10 plus years ago hitting my horn suddenly?

So what do I recommend? Straight up just lay it out with the essence of "I loved hanging out and I was wondering if you still like x and y, I was busy as hell until recently, but now I want to roll back to these things and I was wondering if you're down to clown". Not those exact words, but you get me.

Listen. It's very easy to drown in our little ocean of sewage water with "oh no"s and "oh crap"s. On an increasingly asocial, nihilist internet that wears the "I hate people" badge with pride, perhaps this is a hot take, but most people's neutral ground is that of good faith. In all honesty, maybe they WILL think "oh perhaps they want to be in a relationship", raw and straight up, it's possible. Would that be the end of the world? Not really, people will give friends, now or from forever ago, time of the day, because it's what we do, specially when it's someone we hung out with and shared interests with.

You have to not get lost in the labyrinth of what ifs because that is just an insidious killer, but one that you can very easily repel: Just don't let it haunt you. What ifs should be left for things far more grave. You? You want friendship and maybe even love. What do you want?

And we're back to question one: You have to find the answer to "what am I expecting to get out of this?", you do, but you don't need to do that before contacting them. Not necessarily. If you're asking yourself that, you don't really know either, do you? So go ahead and talk to them.

Go ahead and talk to them, hang out, and then you'll know, if what you want out of them is a friend or a partner. It's a fool's game to try to answer that prior to reestablishing contact. What if you hype yourself up for a potential relationship and then they say no? What if they say yes but then you don't like them like that? This question has a very clear cut, definite answer, anon, and shouldn't be answered in a vacuum. Hang out, and then you'll know for sure. This is an important question, but not one you answer before reestablishing contact, my friend.

So, off rip? Just talk to them. Maybe they'll want to talk, then you can hang out, online or offline, then you can come to the answers to these questions with actual clarity instead of trying to land a dart on the dartboard with dense fog in front of you.

You're clearly thinking about what they think and can possibly feel about this and this is very sweet of you, so there's that as well, but really, just go ahead. The step taken is the step earned, what ifs won't get you either a friend or a partner.

[chimggukchim]

Share our @s so we can be bullied in our inboxes till kingdom come and be ostracized by you lot? No, thank you. I'm a Jikooker too and I've seen it happen to other Jikookers too many times just because their view of Jikook isn't "they are 100% together and practically married and monogamous towards each other for more than 10 years now"

Unfortunately this space has become too cult-like where one just can't have a slightly differing opinion about Jimin and Jungkook's relationship or express how they personally truly observe it without Jikookers losing their minds or accusing them of things, the way you guys are doing right now.

There's literally no difference between this community and the Taekooker community anymore - I've seen that crazy side turn on their own just because they had the audacity to point out the ITS talk made sense to them because for a while prior to that even they felt things weren't the same between Taekook anymore. And now it's Jikookers doing the same to other Jikookers🤦🏻‍♀

People can believe that Jikook is real while still pointing out the things they feel contradict that belief, or they can believe they were together and no longer are but still think they are special to each other, or they can believe they aren't together in what one would consider the "conventional, traditional" sense.

Taekook can never be real. That is a ship that has no real substance and was literally formed on aesthetics and vibes and had a whole false narrative attached to it that became lore over the years. A lot of people say just Jikook's existence alone cancels out Taekook, but I think even if Jimin and Jung kook didn't have the kind of dynamic they have and/or they didn't exist as a duo, Taekook still wouldn't be real. Please there's fuckall there.

I am someone who believes there's something more than platonic between Jimin and Jungkook and that Jungkook is deeply in love with Jimin, but still I agree with everything the last anon's(s') said. They *are* different from how they were before and the last few years make it hard to believe in the kind of image of them that Jikook shippers have painted for years.

We are Jikookers, we are here, we exist. Accusing us of being Taekookers won't make that shit true. We don't have to be a monolith.

First thing's first - YOU may not be a taekooker in disguise, but the other anon most likely was. And most with dumb takes are as they have a knack of using the SAME rhetoric and examples every single time, not to mention, always managing to slip in Tae somehow. Let's get that out of the way.

Now, here's the thing, anon.

I understand completely, the feelings of confusion and second-guessing whether jikook are really together or not. I have been there before, on multiple occasions. There were things in the past as it happened that made me doubt whether my suspicions about the true nature of their relationship was right. I get it.

So don't go putting words into my mouth and think that you can assume 'what kind of jikooker' I am.

Cause like I've said on multiple occasions now, I did not start out in the ARMY fandom space either as a jikooker or as a shipper. I had no clue what shipping was. And til this day, I remain an ARMY supporting all of our boys as a group before any sort of shipping enters my mind. Whenever I watch BTS content, jikook as a couple is never at the forefront of my mind. I watch them as a part of Bangtan.

There are certain moments that jikookers put on a pedestal as concrete 'proof' of a relationship, that I side-eye and hence, make no post or comment on because it does not make sense.

If tomorrow, Jimin and Jungkook were to announce they were both dating other people, I would still be happy for them because before anything, I want them to be happy. If that's with other people, so be it.

So I know me and how I perceive Jimin and Jungkook's relationship. I trust my objectivity of their relationship over yours, thank you.

Now to what you have accused most in this community of...I have honestly yet to see to the extent that you have indicated. Harassing? Bullying? Cult-like? Well, I've got news for you. You're in the wrong side of town, deary. And people who go looking there, clearly want to find what they're looking for. (toxicity, by the way)

And the way you spoke of taekookers and knowing how they behave and treat each other?...Honey, the 'normal' jikooker would NEVER EVER find themselves anywhere near taekooker spaces willingly. But you have apparently. That says a lot.

You're looking for trouble. You're going to find it.

Also...my sympathy for you lessened when you compared jikookers to the cult. Because the last time I checked, jikookers didn't go around literally harassing Tae's and JK's FAMILIES AND FRIENDS in real frigging life. So miss me with that similarity nonsense. Point out all you want about SOME jikookers not being able to handle different takes of others all you want, that's fair. I'm sure there may be the immature ones like that in this community, I'm not denying it. I assure you, they're in the minority. But the minute you go comparing any shipping community's behaviour to THAT CULT...it clearly shows loose objectivity.

So with my sincerest heart, I would advise you to change your space. You're clearly in toxic spaces, jikook and taekook-wise. This is bound to influence how you view not only jikook but more importantly, the jikook community.

There is a reason why I don't answer or comment on toxic asks. It's because it brings negativity to the jikook space. And I don't want that. I have found myself probably treading on that territory these days with this discourse. But I'll work it out to bring back the space to positivity and just focusing on Jimin and Jungkook.

Anyway, the final thing I'm going to bring up is that you all keep speaking about Jungkook and Jimin's relationship changing with no actual evidence. You all simply point out things happening now but fail to actually show a proper comparison to the past to highlight the 'CHANGE'. That's not how that works.

For instance, I can say their relationship changed in that Jungkook became a lot bolder with JImin publicly as opposed to years ago. He actively flirts with Jimin on stage when, for instance, during the Red Bullet Tour (back in 2014-2015), he didn't. Jimin did. See how easy that is? Comparison.

If you have any sound comparisons...with proper context, by all means, share. I'm up to hearing it.

PS. This does not include "they don't see each other as much" because we are not privy to how much they actually saw each other back then nor how much they did in 2022/2023.

Anyway, that's all from me. Peace!

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

It's difficult to come up with something relevant to say after I had my moment of excitement last night. Yes, I did stay up to watch the launch trailer and then I think I managed to fall asleep around 4:30? Jikook are ruining my sleep schedule, that's for sure.

I have also watched the trailer an embarrassing amount of times. In slow-motion too....But what can we do when there's fast pace editing and blink and you miss Jikook being cute together?

So far, it's been exactly what I expected the show to look like and for them to be with each other. Doing lots of activities, laughing and cloud gazing. I expect more mellow moments in the next trailer, but also the crazier ones. I'm not forgetting the MMA fight or Jungkook saying how everything got once Jimin arrived.

There would be plenty to tell about each single thing from that teaser, but my brain is working at half capacity so I'll focus on a few things that I remember.

Their time in Jeju and Connecticut was before they got their approval for buddy enlistment which I think will make those trips special in their own way. Perhaps a sort of melancholy intertwined with the joy and freedom of being together.

Just beautiful. That's all I have to say here.

It looked like Jimin was grabbing the umbrella perhaps in an attempt to either take it for him or get rid of it. Nothing like getting soaking wet on a hot summer day. Rainy Day Playfight 2.0.

It's cruel to know that Jimin here is wearing glasses but the clip is too short to see him raise his head. I'm always on the Jimin in glasses agenda.

KooKoo looks like a baby here, such a cutie. I bet that photo ends up in the photobook.

That's all I have for now, although I know there's plenty left to talk about. My inbox is open anyway.

There's going to be a while until the next trailer which will make time feel like slowing down. But I have Muse until then!

[adventuringblind]

hi!! could you possibly to a max x reader where the reader is mostly blind ( like the one with charles) because of a major traumatic incident when she was a kid and it starts off with max hating her and vice versa but then they fall in love, if she’s best friends with lando, alex and yuki that would be great too! (maybe max got jealous over something and that’s why he hates her?)

thank you!!💕

Passenger Side

Max Verstappen x reader

Genre: The beginning is a little sad and angsty, but the rest is fluff

Request: yes! I had fun writing this one because the reader is kind of sassy. I'm open for Charles, Max, Daniel, Lando, Oscar, and George.

Summary: Max hated her. Couldn't stand seeing her hanging off the guys in the paddock. Until he finds out the truth and it changes his entire perspective

Warnings: car accident, injury descriptions, Max is oblivious, Jos and his behaviors are mentioned

Notes: Third-person perspective. Please remember that blindness is a spectrum and can happen for many reasons. I am blind myself. If anyone has any questions and would like to know more, my inbox is open :)

Masterlist

If he was truly honest with himself, he couldn't come up with a legitimate reason for hating her.

She's kind, smart, gorgeous, and her smile lights up the room. Yet every time he was around her, he couldn't muster up any sort of courage to talk to her.

She was always hanging around Lando, Charles, Alex, and George. The four had almost dragged him to hang out with her, but he couldn't do it.

She was always hanging off their arms. It seemed to be flirtatious to him. Maybe that's what annoyed him.

She's clumsy, touchy, and never goes anywhere on her own. Was he jealous? Probably. But he wasn't about to admit that to anyone.

She seemed to run into things far too often for it to be a coincidence. Maybe it was her way it flirting. If that's the, he was better of staying away. He'd never been one to find that attractive.

She wears sunglasses almost every time he sees her. Unless they’re inside in a darker space.

He didn't understand her, and yet he constantly felt intrigued to know more.

It was an off day in the summer. Max and Lando were doing some sim racing together when the topic of the girl came up.

"I see you make eyes at her all the time. Would it kill you to say hi?"

Max nearly winced. Grateful this wasn't a stream or his strange infatuation and simultaneous dislike if this girl would be found out. "She's just so strange." Was all he could come up with on the spot.

The Brit laughed at him. "Strange? How so? Explain to me how she is stranger then you."

"She runs into everything constantly."

Lando only laughed harder.

"She's always clinging onto someone's arm."

His laughing was irritating him now.

"and she always wears those stupid sunglasses- Why are you laughing so hard?!" Max shouted into his headset.

Lando could hardly breathe. He was laughing so hard. His mouth is not able to form coherent words.

"Mate!- she's blind!" He finally managed, trying to get air back into his lungs.

"She's what?"

"She can't see. Well, she can a little bit, but barely anything really."

Max's entire facade fell apart right before him. Like a tarp being pulled out from underneath his mental walls.

Every reason he found not to like her is because she's blind.

Lando took pity on Max. Obviously, he's clueless. Now is his chance to be the best wingman Max never asked for.

~

The next GP was too hectic for Max. Mostly because he was finding every reason to avoid Lando. The boy finding it neccecary to make him meet her.

Max felt like a ninja. Marketing though he'd been replaced. Christian was confused at why Max kept hiding behind the cars. His PR manager was convinced he'd contracted a virus. Everyone was confused.

Lando, on the other hand, was not. He knew exactly what was going on.

"I don't understand why we're by the redbull garage." She asked him. The female holding his bicep loosely to let him effectively guide her.

"We're waiting for Max. I have something for him." Little she know it was her.

"And you felt the need to drag me all the way over here for this? Yuki was showing off somthing he cooked." She exaggerated a frown.

"Relax, you'll get to eat his food again."

"I may not be able to see very well, but I can hear your eye roll." Then the two started giggling.

Max had popped around the corner to see the two distracted. He decided to risk getting into his driver room. Darting speedily around the objects.

"Max!" Lando's voice made Max freeze. Grimacing at the thought of having to deal with whatever Lando was planning.

He made his way over to the pair. "What brings you over?" He tried to ask cheerily, but it came out more broken than anything.

He felt nervous. But why?

"I'm delivering a note from Daniel." Lando's cheeky smile did not go unnoticed by the Dutch. His hands dramatically search his pockets. "Damn, I think it fell out while I was changing."

Lando taps the arm of the girl holding onto him. "Are you okay waiting with Max while I go and get it?"

She nodded her head and smiled understandingly at her friend. Lando stands directly in front of Max, removes her hand from his arm, and places it on Max's.

"I'll be right back!" He yells while jogging back the direction of the McLaren paddock.

"Sorry about this. I understand if you're busy. You can point me in the direction of the nearest fence, and I'm sure I'll manage just fine." She smiled again reassuringly. She sensed his unease the moment her hand made sontact with him and his muscles tensed.

"No, it's alright, I was just going to hide somewhere." He confessed.

"Understandable. People tend to be nosy." They were walking now. Max is trying to get her out of the middle of the walkway. Trying and sort of failing.

He could hear her feet tapping the ground at each step. Humming every occasionally to herself.

"I'm Y/N, by the way."

"Max."

"You can ask if you want."

Max was taken off guard by the question. So much so that he almost ran himself into the approaching wall. "Ask you about what."

She laughed and put a hand on the cold metal of the garage. Now facing Max without him having help her. His confusion about her growing g steadily. "About my eyes."

She was still wearing her sunglasses. Despite the overcast weather. He wanted to see her eyes. He read people through their eyes. It's how he could tell what kind of mood his dad was in.

Then it hit him. That's why he'd hated her. He couldn't read her because he couldn't see her eyes. In a way, he was blind to how she was feeling and reacting to things.

"Can I see your eyes?" It was almost a whisper. His tapping his things in anxiousness.

"It's kind gross, but sure." She slowly removed the glassed and lifted her head upwards. His gaze memorizing eyes aspect he could.

One of her eyes was glassed over by a mix of yellow and red. The pupil is a shade of cream white. The other was clear aside from the pupil looking mildly foggy.

She didn't tell him the story that day. Mainly because Lando had come running back, a piece of paper clutched in his hands. "I'm back!" They heard him yell in the distance.

"Let me take you on a date." The words fell out faster than his brain could prosccess what he was saying.

"Sure."

~

Max still laughed at himself for falling for Lando's master plan. Though he kept the blank piece of paper in his pocket as a reminder of what his friend did to get him here.

The two had been on a handfull of now. It was fun exploring different areas with her on his arm.

The boys who had been guiding her for years now made sure he was properly trained. Three of them were getting protective of their visually compromised friend, unlike Lando, who was squealing about how cute they looked every chance he got.

Now it was winter break. Max had invited her to stay with him in Monaco. An invitation she graciously accepted.

She'd yet to tell him about her story. The traumatic and sudden loss of her vision.

Max had only asked once. When she told him it was hard to talk about, he respected that she would tell him in her own time.

That time was coming sooner than she planned.

Max wasn't able to get her from the airport. But Alex had been on his way to spend time with Lando, so he'd offered to be her traveling partner.

It had gone well. The plane ride was smooth. The night traffic made the car ride easy.

When the light turned green at the intersection, the last thing either was expecting was to be t-boned by a drunk driver.

~

Max thought she wasn't coming. He'd tried texting her but received no response. Even Alex wasn't picking up the phone.

She'd texted him that she was safe on the ground and would be there soon. That was three hours ago.

He was starting to worry. Panic even.

So he did the next logical move and called Lando. Praying that his friend had heard something.

It didn't take long for him to answer the phone. "I was just about to call you." Max hadn't heard Lando's voice quite so frantic in a while.

"What going on?"

"There was an accident. They're both at the hospital."

~

Max was driving as fast a caution would let him. He agreed he'd meet Lando there. Both of them hoping to see their friends safe and breathing.

Lando was waiting for him out front. He didn't want to face either of them alone. Unsure the correct way to act in this situation.

The next thing they knew, a nurse was leading them back to where their friends were.

Alex was upright and attentive. Stitches lined a few places on his face. doctors are doing a few tests to make sure there's no internal damage.

Y/N was unconscious, but the moniter tracking her heart was beeping steadily.

Max was at her side instantly. Assessing the damage he could see. The nurse followed him in. Getting a few vitals from the sleeping figure.

"She has a concussion and a few broken ribs, but she'll be fine." The nurse smiled reassuringly at him.

"Why's she unconscious then?" He'd finally gotten to understand her. He didn't want to lose that yet.

"Every time she woke up, she started panicking and hyperventilating. The doctors felt it best to put her under and let her rest." Then the nurse left him alone woth her.

Later, Max, Lando, and Alex were discussing it. Alex had been discharged and could leave whenever he wanted, but the three felt the need to stay until she woke up.

"The truck hit the passenger side of our car. That's probably why she was panicking." Alex pointed at making Lando nod in agreement.

Max's confusion was visible on his face. "Wait, has she not told you?" Asked Lando."

"Told me what?"

"How she lost her vision."

~

The two boys had refused to tell Max the story. Claiming it wasn't their place. Max respected that, but he was growing more and more curious.

Lando and Alex had left him an hour ago. Alex was exhausted and in need of a new shirt. The one he was wearing now stained with the excess blood from his head wounds.

When she woke up, the heart moniter started to beep faster. Alerting Max that something was wrong.

He gently grabbed her hand and placed it on his arm. Leaning over the bed so he could talk quietly.

It was odd how her hand on his arm had become a comfort for him. He wasn't sure if it was for hers, but he was panicking and needed to do something before she could hyperventilate again.

"It's okay, you're safe now." He soothes. His free hand now stroking the top of her head.

Her breathing calmed down at hearing his voice. "Is Alex okay?" She rasped. Her throat dry from her previous panicked shouts.

"Yeah, he went with Lando. He texted, saying he was safe at his apartment."

It was quiet for a moment before he heard her sigh. "I need to tell you what happened."

Max just shook his head to show he was listening. Grimacing at the horrific details she recounted to him.

There had been a massive crash. Six cars were involved. Her family had been innocent. Yet they suffered the most.

Their family car had landed on its side. Two cars landing on top of it. One crushed the front with the impact, killing both her parents. The other landed over the top of her. Oil leaked out from the bottom of the car, finding its way through broken glass of her mirror. The strong, smelling liquid getting in her eyes.

She screamed, trying to wipe it away as it burned her. Only to push it farther in and make it worse. She had been on the passenger side that day. Waiting thirty minutes for them to get her out safely.

She woke up alone in the hospital. Her parents and vision both gone.

Lando and her hand been friends. So she went to stay with their family. His parents let her into their home like she was their own.

When the car crashed into the passenger side, she was transported back into that moment.

Now she's here, with Max, his voice pulling her into a sense of security.

~

It didn't take long for her to be discharged after that. Max sent a quick message they the two were back at his apartment.

Max Verstappen embraced the girl he once hated. His lack of understanding eating away at his pride. But he understood now.

"I'm sorry about everything you've had to go through. I can't change the past, but I can be here for you in the future." He leaned his forehead against hers. The innocent affection communicating everything.

He knew how she was feeling through other signals. When blotchy tears rolled down her cheeks, he could feel every emotion rolling through her body. Finally able to get closure on what had happened so long ago.

"I love you, even if you can hardly see me, I love you."

[exercise-of-trust]

everyone clap and cheer for my beautiful daughter who has every disease 🥰 her name is þerindë because her wheel is made out of an embroidery hoop; she is entirely handmade and boy howdy does it show

a whole bunch of things have stopped working since i took that video last night and i'm not sure how much more wherewithal i have to keep messing with her, but i did manage to spin about two feet of something before then! so i'm showing her off a bit now, and if i can figure out what-all i fucked up maybe you'll see more of her in the future. some process and progress photos under the cut (not a tutorial. do not do this. i cannot sufficiently stress how bad of an idea this was and is*)

(*if you are going to do this and have questions not answered here i am always happy to answer them, inbox and dms are open etc, but like. i would strongly advise against it)

here's the hoop! it's about a foot across, with a groove carved out with a speedball. this ended up being way too shallow (who'd'a'thunk) so the final version is a lot deeper than what you're seeing here. the paint stirrers are held in with straight pins because i was worried regular nails would just crack the hoop lmao. my girl is so deeply and profoundly scuffed <3

the flyer is made from three cedar shingles glued together because i didn't have a solid piece of wood large enough. astonishingly nothing broke while i was sawing out the rough shape and it whittled down pretty nicely! the hooks are scrap 2mm copper wire, the orfice is a couple inches of plastic drinking straw, and the pulley wheel is also hand-carved, which is why it looks like a fucked-up oreo and has the weird hitch at the top of the spin that you probably saw in the video 🙃 frankly i am astonished it works as well as it does

the wheel frame is. man. the axle supports haven't broken yet but frankly it's a miracle they're still in place with how much strain they're under every time. the original base was that weird little bit of paint stirrer, which (shocker) did not work out in the long run; it's been replaced by an offcut from the frame and is significantly more sturdy now. it's surprisingly level, though, and turns pretty smoothly all things considered!

the frame was a nightmare start to finish; i've never done any serious woodworking before in my life and the whole thing was just kind of slapped together without a plan or any sort of concrete measurement. it wobbles so fucking bad and every few hours i have to push a couple of the parts back together where the nails are sort of drifting out of the wood. you may observe a weird post sticking out the left side of the mother-of-all; that is supposed to be for scotch tensioning. does it actually do that? sort of! the belt is a length of cotton crochet thread that is, after much fiddling, just the right size to not slip out more than once every three minutes.

treadling was another pain to figure out and i think i probably made it way more complicated than it needed to be. it still doesn't work very well and i can't tell if that's something i can fix hardware-wise or if i just have to suck it up and practice a lot more. turns out feet are not as coordinated as hands! i would say "now i know for next time!" but frankly i am never doing this again. you couldn't pay me. speaking of which, i did the math and at my current pre-tax hourly salary i could've bought two brand-new ashford travelers with the number of hours i spent building my awful rickety daughter. at the end of the day, do i love her? immensely. is she "good"? by no stretch of the imagination.

anyway. this was a terrible use of my time <3 but i do finally feel confident enough in all the parts of a spinning wheel and what they're for that i can brave the dangers of facebook marketplace's "spinning wheel" category without getting too badly scammed! which is pretty valuable in its own right, i guess.

[olderthannetfic]

Hot take incoming.

People who have been traumatized or otherwise harmed by certain people (predators, etc) have every right to be upset about it, and angry, and scared about whether other people will experience the same thing. They also have a right to process their trauma in their own time, because everyone is different. It is also understandable that some people might not have access to a way to process that trauma. Lastly, obviously, people with trauma totally deserve to be included in fandom spaces as much as someone who doesn't have trauma.

However… I feel like there is a line that shouldn't be crossed when engaging in certain discourse in fandom, and outside of fandom. If someone has lots of unresolved, unprocessed trauma, and because of it, they can't be (sufficiently) objective, or look at things in a more unbiased manner, they should not be engaging in discourse about things like censorship too heavily—if at all. They need to postpone that until their mental health is a bit better.

Unresolved trauma can make it really hard to properly acknowledge nuance. For example, if someone's parents grabbed them, beat them, withheld food, opened locked doors on them, et al, yes, they're going to have trauma. But the question remains whether they can view something like a fictional dynamic where, for instance, someone makes amends with their parents who abused them due to mental illness, which has since been treated, with ample objectivity. Or any other, even darker topics, especially ones where toxic relationships and events are written to be erotic). It really feels like many people in fandom don't recognize they might be too biased to read something without viscerally (viscerally!) reacting, and throwing down the "ban it" card. I get the impression it's not really healthy for the individual a lot of times, too.

I've reblogged posts about why it's bad to censor sensitive topics in fandom, and I've posted some of my own commentary, which tends to be very clinical. I've had multiple strangers, at these times, create full-on essays in my inbox where, after mentioning how I seemed like a safe space, they described how they were groomed and abused by someone, and all sorts of stuff that I didn't want to read. While it was very sympathetic, they argued that x things should be censored, and nobody should be allowed to write toxic relationships, because they "knew just how bad that trauma could be," and they implored me to believe them. But even if they do have firsthand experience with that trauma, and they feel so strongly about it, does that really make their argument any more logical?

I'm convinced these people still had unprocessed trauma, so they were acting with their feelings, not their brain. I got this impression from how they completely trauma-dumped on me - I kid you not, it felt like they had to get this stuff out somehow, because they hadn't been given enough opportunity to vent before. One of these people who were in my inbox? They legitimately seemed desperate to get me to accept what they were saying. Now, it could've been a bucket of fake bullshit. But if it was real, I have to wonder how much of the incessant campaigning for censorship is actually a misguided way for people to manage and make sense of trauma, to validate it somehow, and feel like they're getting control over a situation, even if they don't realize that's what they're trying to do.

Not to claim people shouldn't be allowed to speak their minds. But, there's nuance. I feel like a lot of people in fandom need to wrap their heads around the fact that there is a large difference between being informed by trauma, and letting trauma speak for you. And the latter can often lead to bad outcomes.

--

[burningcheese-merchant]

Little thank-you post!

I have over 100 followers now! Don't really know why any of you are here, I am not funny nor am I interesting, nor do I actually post anything cool lol. But regardless, I'm really grateful for you guys and for your support! (As well as all the anons that reach out to me! Thank you to you all, as well! I enjoy when people actually talk to me, nobody wants to feel like they're rambling into a void lol)

As a sort of mediocre, I'm sorry thank-you, I want to outline what I've got in store for you all next:

Gonna release the BurningCheese playlist soon, it's over 30 songs long now lol. I want you all to jam with me. Rock out to the BurningCheese vibe. (And send me more song recommendations if you want, a lot of what I have now is thanks to homies making suggestions)

PART 2 OF "Mine Forever More" IS COMING VERY SOON! Now that I've played through episode 6 (and had a massive meltdown because BURNINGCHEESE IS CANON OMG /jk), I know what I want to do for the story now. Expect it to be posted within the next day or two! (And also look forward to more short stories, I have a lot planned)

Remember those BurningCheese fankids I've mentioned more than once before? Get excited, you're gonna see and hear about them again soon 👀👀👀

I've gotten asks about my "Reformed Beasts AU" that I've been tinkering with. I promise there will be a masterpost on the subject in the future. I kind of want to iron out my thoughts on the Beasts in general first, and how I headcanon their corruptions (like that "a thought about Burning Spice" post I made). Will probably write about Shadow Milk next, or maybe Silent Salt (I've made up a whole ass character for this guy that I've gotten attached to already lol)

I know I have a bunch of asks in my inbox I still need to answer. I'm sorry for the delay, I promise I will get to you all. I inhabit the real world and have real-world responsibilities like everyone else, unfortunately haha

Gonna remind you all again that my AO3 username is sleeping_mouse_1011, because people have asked me that, too. Do be careful, a lot of my works are NSFW to some degree (that's where I indulge in Yandere Spice lol). I encourage minors to stay here and enjoy my SFW stories instead.

Got a bunch of meme edits to make now, hope those make you laugh. I gotta cope with having no artistic talent somehow

I have thoughts and headcanons I'd love to share about other characters and ships besides Burning Simp and Pretty Cheese Lady lol. I'm actually NOT entirely insane, I am capable of rational discussion about things other than BurningCheese, I swear

Thanks again to everyone who takes the time to rifle through my nonsense posts and read my stories. It really means a lot to me that my works bring people joy. I know I'm still just some nobody on here, but even so. I hope I somehow manage to put a smile on your face. Even if it's more at my own expense than anything else.

That's all from me for now. Merchant out. Later, haters

[fr3sh-tragedies]

Hurt What's Mine

[Shadow of the Tomb Raider] Lara Croft x Female Reader

Word Count: 8.05k

Proofread: No

Content Warnings: Language, mentions of blood, heavy descriptions of gore and death, hospitalization, brief mention of medication

Categories:

Angst Fluff Mix

One-Shot Preference Headcanon

[A/N]: Thank you for 170+ followers! I've got a couple of people who have requested things through my inbox, and I'm hoping I'll be able to answer them soon! I will be open to requests soon, but there are a few more characters I want to write for ahead of time so it's easier to get an idea of what fandoms I'm open to. If you sent in a request, thank you! Once I've posted for a bit longer, I'll upload the masterlist I've made as well as the rules for requesting, then I'll answer requests!

[A/N] #2: If you do have a request that you'd like me to write in the future, please let me know! I'll get to it eventually, things are just hectic right now. Thank you for reading!

Enjoy!

Amongst the loud snapping of twigs combined with the rustling of the leaves overhead, softened chatter could be heard throughout the entrance to the forest. The sky, which had been painted warm shades of red and orange mere moments before, had grown murky with hues of purple and black. Small stars illuminated the sky as it grew darker, bright pools of light poking through the inky atmosphere to aid the moon in flooding the landscape with a soft glow. In accompaniment with the darkness seemingly swallowing up the woodland area that Lara and [Y/N] wandered into, a harsh breeze rushed through the air.

As the two walked deeper into the forest, Lara made sure to reach over when coming across drywood and break it free from the ground, tucking it under her arm. After seeing her do this, [Y/N] mirrored her actions and began to gather wood as well. The two had decided they’d head into the nearby forest to gather kindling for the fire they planned to build back at camp. There, Jonah was waiting, sorting through his supply of herbs and a small flask of water he’d said he would use to stir up a broth of sorts that would help all three stay warm for the night. The only problem being there was no fuel for a fire nearby, so both women volunteered to scavenge for some together.

It had taken quite a while to make it to the woodland area safely, but the conversation they had struck up with each other managed to keep the journey bearable. Thankfully, Lara had remembered to snatch her makeshift machete before heading out. Using the sharpest part of the rusted blade, she sliced through the brush that obstructed their path, allowing them to meander forward with a partial trail behind them.

Soon enough, neither of them were able to carry more of the drywood they came across. With a huff, Lara spun on her heel and jutted her chin toward the path she had made. “We should head back. We can always come back later if we need to gather more.” [Y/N] nodded, trailing behind the brunette as she led the way. A few minutes passed in silence, both women focused on not tripping over the loose roots or pebbles that littered the dampened blades of grass. Ultimately, as they neared the halfway point of the path, [Y/N] decided to break the silence.

“God, I’m glad we haven’t had any run-ins with Trinity. Those guys are a huge pain in the ass,” she complained. At her words, the corners of Lara’s lips perked up into an amused smirk. “Yeah, they are. We still need to keep our guard up, though. There weren’t any traces of them following us here, but that’s been the case the last couple of times as well. They’ve got the wrong motives, but they’re clever, and they know how to handle stealth operations.”

A grimace painted [Y/N]’s features as she nodded in response. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.” Silence once again fell upon them, allowing their senses to return to the sound of their own footsteps beneath them as they staggered ahead. While they recalled the way they came from, they struck up another conversation with one another, trying to keep the mood light in the eeriness that made itself known between the towering trees. It seemed to work–both felt more at ease as they chatted away. Merely a moment seemed to pass, however, before a loud clamp echoed throughout the area, followed by a ticking and whirring noise nearby.

Before either had time to react and understand what had happened, Lara flew backward with a holler and collapsed onto the ground. She was yanked forward once she made contact with the soil. The whirring noise returned, louder this time, and she was soon dangling high in the air by her foot. She groaned, her ears ringing and vision blurry from the way her head had bashed against the floor. Her eyes were pinched tightly shut, though her hand instinctively reached for her belt to find her gun.

Squinting and blinking her eyes rapidly, Lara managed to clear her view. All at once, she could make out what had happened. Just a few feet away, [Y/N]’s leg had been caught in a similar trap, but she wasn’t conscious enough to try and escape. Lara’s arm whipped forward to take aim, watching with a newfound sense of terror as a horde of shielded soldiers, clad in black, swarmed forward to the two. Even as she struggled to steady the hand that she gripped the gun harshly with, Lara began to fire warning shots, striking several of the soldiers and watching them plummet to the ground in waves.

A few that hadn’t been shot dashed toward [Y/N] and took hold of her limp arms. They hollered at each other to get her down, using her as some sort of human shield to avoid being killed as well. Upon seeing them grab the unconscious girl, the blood pumping from adrenaline underneath Lara’s skin lit aflame with fury and a desire to defend. Her aim became far more accurate, more fatalities becoming visible as she fired away at them, a wolf’s snarl lacing her words as she bellowed at them to leave her alone.

She knew she just needed to get enough of them down so she could break free from the pulley that tightened the rope around her ankle to a painful degree. If she could do that, she could protect [Y/N] and help her flee. A false spark of hope flushed through her veins as she noticed she had cleared most of the squad, the lie of it evident as her clip ran empty and more men emerged from the distance. She cursed at herself, her hands unsteadily flying back up to her belt to find another magazine and reload. As she struggled with fiddling her pack open to search, she failed to register the sound of thundering footsteps nearing her from behind.

Finally, she pulled a clip free with a small huff of relief. She let her empty mag drop to the ground, flicked upward with the new one to reload, then cocked the hammer back before taking aim. A single bullet fired from the barrel, and everything went black.

Everything seemed to come back at once–every sense flowing forward and overwhelming Lara’s mind. A muffled groan slipped past her lips as she managed to lift her head. Entirely unaware of her bearings, her eyes flitted around in confusion, unable to see with her eyes wide open. She jerked her arms forward, hoping to grab hold of whatever fabric covered her face, only to feel cold steel dig harshly into the skin on her wrists. She hissed in pain, wriggling for a moment as she tried to understand what had happened.

Her focus returned to what she could feel. She had been chained to something, though it was hard to make out exactly what it was. Against her back, she could feel jagged wood scratching at her scarred skin each time she moved. Her arms encircled whatever it was she was pinned up on. Piecing things together, she figured she had been cuffed to a wooden beam somewhere. That didn’t explain where she was, though. Aside from the village she and the others had passed through once they arrived, there were no structures of any kind as far as she could tell. Had one of the villagers turned and taken her hostage?

She could feel the frigid grated steel beneath her, which confirmed she had to be somewhere else. The ground in the homes of the village had been purely dirt and tattered cloth.

Then where the hell was she?

What had happened before she blacked out?

“Oh, look who’s up from her nap,” a booming voice called out, pulling Lara from her thoughts. Her head shot up, a quick yelp of pain greeting her as her head throbbed from the sudden motion. “Who the hell are you? Where am I? Where’s [Y/N]?” She couldn’t recall what she had been through beforehand, though some part of her told her she needed to defend herself regardless. A deep chuckle rumbled nearby before the owner of the previous voice stepped closer. Lara braced herself for a hit, fighting back a flinch when gloved fingers gripped the top of what had been obstructing her view and tugged upward.

She squinted with a hiss as the overhead lights flashed their way into her eyes, effectively blinding her for a moment. As her vision cleared and adjusted, she jerked her head to the side to face whoever had granted her the ability to see again. A moment hardly passed before her face contorted with anger: her brows furrowed tightly together, practically knitting themselves as one, her jaw clenching as her teeth ground painfully against each other.

“Who the fuck are you?” She snapped. Quickly, her outrage completely replaced the feeling of distress, only worsening when her gaze flickered down to see Trinity’s emblem stitched into the man’s tactical vest. He laughed, tossing the woven bag that had been tied around her head to the side. “You don’t need to know who I am, but I certainly know who you are.” He grinned, then reached behind Lara to pick something up from behind the pillar. Briefly after, he leaned back again, dangling her tactical belt tauntingly in front of her, still fully equipped with all of her weapons.

Her eyes widened a fraction at the sight, instinctively flying down to find and confirm that she had indeed been stripped of her only means of defense in this position. Immediately, she knew she needed to free herself. With the methods she had been taught after tussling with offenders before, she knew she could easily wrestle this man to the ground and overpower him. With her arms restrained, however, she could only fight back at an infuriatingly close range.

He seemed to notice the stress that had returned to Lara’s mind, letting out another cackle at her misfortune. He stood, twisting his torso far enough to hurl the belt over the railing. As he made his way over to squat in front of her again, she took this opportunity to look around. She had been right: she was chained to a wooden support beam, and she was seated against steel. Through the holes in the grated plates, she could see she was far up off the ground, at least three or four stories high.

Looking up, she could see layers of other platforms above, towering to an ungodly height. Dropping her gaze back down, the platform she was on curved around a circular building just behind her, and ahead of her, a long metal bridge stretched out to connect to an identical structure. As her eyes focused in on a figure across the platform, her blood ran cold, wishing she hadn’t recognized what was happening.

Everything that had happened before she ended up here came flooding back. The forest, the traps, the soldiers, everything. Now separated, [Y/N] was similarly cuffed to a pillar. Her binds seemed tighter, red lines already formed on her wrists as though she had been struggling against them for a while. For the first time since making it to the town, Lara felt genuine fear. Had they already hurt [Y/N]? Had they forced her to give away where Jonah was?

“[Y/N]!”

“Ah, so you noticed,” the man voiced, bringing her attention back to him. Shakily, she lifted her head, She screamed at herself, willing her voice into intimidation. “Let her go. She has nothing to do with this.” Internally, she cursed at the way her voice wavered and cracked.

The man grinned devilishly, shaking his head. “You don’t get it, do you? The moment you brought her here, you forced her to be a part of this. Like it or not, she has everything to do with this.” He leaned forward, blocking her view of [Y/N] and forcing her to look him in the eye. “It’s your fault.” Bringing his hand to his chin, he glanced up and mockingly pretended to think. “I suppose the saying, “like father like daughter,” is true after all. Wouldn’t you say so?”

At the mere mention of her father, a concoction of emotions bubbled beneath the surface of Lara’s skin. Even so, she forced her expression to remain stern. “Don’t you fucking talk about him.” Once again, she was met with a laugh.

A soldier that had been stationed nearby stepped closer to the two, concern laced in his tone. “Sir, shouldn’t we be careful? She’s taken out half of our men already, and most of it was entirely on her own.” The man in front of Lara rolled his eyes and stood, giving a small shrug. “Relax, I’m just having a bit of fun. There’s nothing she can do like this,” he gestured toward her. “With respect,” the soldier started, “she’s gotten out of tougher situations. Maybe we should–”

In an instant, the man, who Lara assumed was the captain at this point, whipped his gun from its holster on his hip and stood. He flicked his arm upward and pointed the barrel directly against the soldier’s forehead, prompting him to freeze. “I’ll fucking take care of it, you got it? All I’m gonna do is get her to tell me a few things, then we’ll blow both of their brains out, then be on our way. Stop me like that again, and the first round will go through your thick skull. Understand?”

Quickly, the soldier nodded and stepped back to his station. “Yes, sir.”

The captain then tucked his gun away. He turned and made a motion with his head to the group across the bridge. Lara glanced behind him to see what was happening, only to panic further as they crouched beside [Y/N], who flinched away at their touch. “Don’t touch her!” She screamed, thrashing violently against her restraints.

“Oh, don’t worry,” the captain teased, crouching down in front of her again to look her in the eye. “As long as you answer some questions, we won’t hurt her anymore.” Anymore. That word bounced through Lara’s head as she barely managed to notice that [Y/N]’s skin was littered with bruises and cuts. She swallowed hard, glaring at him. “What do you want? What questions?” He again acted as though he was deep in thought. “Well, for starters, you could tell me where the artifact you're looking for is.”

She scoffed. “So what? You can use it to wipe out humanity? Like you tried to do with the Divine Source?” The captain forced a smile. His hand lifted from his side and made a motion toward the group behind him. Lara watched, horrified, as one soldier used all his strength to kick [Y/N] in the stomach, another grabbing a fistful of her hair and slamming her head back against the pillar. She cried out in pain, desperately trying to free herself.

“Like I said, tell me what I want to know, and she won’t get hurt.”

Lara practically growled at him when she spoke. She ordered him to call the group back, threatening to make his death hell if he didn’t comply. “What do you think you can do? Can’t exactly kill me while you’re stuck here.” She scowled, her fingertips tapping at the chains in search of the padlock. Her arm shimmied a bit, allowing one of her hairpins to slip from the cuff of her sleeve and into her hand that she kept tucked away for situations exactly like this.

As she fiddled with trying to find the padlock, the captain continued to hound her with questions.

“Where’s your camp? I know you brought someone else here too.” She shuddered at the thought of Jonah being dragged into this as well. “I don’t know. I don’t even know where the hell I am, and you expect me to remember how to get back?” Another motion was made, prompting another harsh punishment to be given to [Y/N]. Lara shouted her name, begging her to hold on and promising she’ll get the two of them out.

The captain scoffed and crossed his arms. “Are you really not grasping what I’ve said? Answers for me means less pain for her.” Panicked, Lara thrashed again, her hands trembling as they continued their search. “I’m trying! But you aren’t giving me questions I can answer!” It was hard to mask her relief when her fingers finally found the padlock, though she instead focused on wriggling the bobby pin into the lock. “Well,” the captain huffed, standing again and slipping his gun from his belt. “I think I know something that might trigger your memory.”

At that, he turned and began walking toward [Y/N], wordlessly ordering the group of soldiers to back away. “No, don’t hurt her!” Lara was practically screaming at her hands to still, and with another brief moment, she finally managed to pick the lock, wrestling her arms free from the chains and stumbling as she stood. Without an ounce of hesitation, she lunged forward toward the captain, grabbing hold of him and trying to keep him away. He hollered in surprise, reaching back to claw at her and get a grasp. “Get off of me, you bitch!”

The team of soldiers that had been abusing [Y/N] only a mere moment before were now hurtling toward her. With a bit of a struggle, three of the soldiers managed to pry her off of him, throwing her back before forcefully pinning her against the pillar yet again. She fought against them, screaming for them to let her go. The captain ahead grumbled and stared her down for a moment, though he was quick to turn and walk toward [Y/N] again.

As Lara thrashed against the soldiers holding her down, the head of the team reached up toward a sheath against his hip, his gun having been smacked out of his hand and over the ledge from Lara’s outburst. Something felt as though it were burning in her mind, growing hotter and hotter as the captain closed the space between him and [Y/N]. She couldn’t let Trinity take another person she loved away from her. She wouldn’t allow it.

Hardly managing to remember her training, she turned and lunged her torso forward, using all of the momentum to headbut the soldier grasping her right arm in the face. He howled in pain, letting her go and falling backward. She then turned to the man holding her left shoulder. In the blink of an eye, she whipped her arm in a circular motion, gripping his wrist and forcing his arm to twist until he let go. Just as quickly, she shuffled forward and kicked the third soldier square in the chest, effectively knocking the wind out of his lungs.

Before she could stand, two more men sprinted forward and blocked her path, one of them managing to land a few rough kicks to her face and head. She hooked her arm beneath the back of his leg, jolting up to stand and flipping him backward. The second soldier struggled to free his rifle from the band on his back. By the time he managed to try and aim at her, her forearm flew sideways and struck his wrist, the impact catching him off guard and causing him to drop his weapon. Lara then leapt forward and gripped the straps of his tactical vest. She spun around to gain more force before driving him around again and launching him over the railing, not bothering to watch as he plummeted toward the ground countless meters below.

She turned, determined to get to the captain, but froze in place. Still so far away, he had freed [Y/N] of restraints, knowing she wouldn’t have been able to fight back. He pinned her against the platform, his knees planting themselves on either side of her hips as he drove his knife down into her stomach. Lara watched as [Y/N] tried to gasp for air, only to choke and let out a silent scream.

She felt everything grow heavy, ready to give into the temptation to drop to the ground. An inhumane level of fury coursed through her veins, and soon she found herself running forward at full speed, no longer in control of her body.

The neared the captain in only a few seconds, leaping from the ground and thrusting her arms forward. She tackled him off of [Y/N]’s writhing body and ripped the blade from his hand, dropping it and instead using her fists to beat any part of him she could see. Hit after hit, punch after punch, a new bruise formed on his skin, thinner sections splitting open into gashes. His blood seemed to all pool together beneath his head.

Lara let out a yell with each strike made against his skill. She lost count of the amount of times her knuckles made contact with the swollen form beneath her, not even noticing that her knuckles had begun to tear open and bleed from the sheer force alone. As his arms and legs fell limp against his sides, Lara’s punches came to a stop. Her bloodied hand reached over and grasped the handle of the knife, knuckles white from the tightness as she lifted the blade above her head.

Instantly, she plunged the knife down, listening with a sick joy as the thin metal ripped through layers of skin and organ, cracking through parts of his ribs. Mirroring what [Y/N] had done, the captain hopelessly tried to gasp for breath, instead wheezing and sputtering while his hands weakly scratched at her arms. Only for a moment, she kept the knife there. Before she could watch the life leave his eyes, she drew the blade out and immediately thrusted it down into his jugular with an equal force.

Her hands let go of the handle and dropped to land at her sides. She stared down, gleefully studying the way the captain clutched at his throat, a thick puddle of blood erupting from his mouth and trickling down his cheeks and jaw, disappearing into his hairline and accumulating with the crimson red under his trembling form. Glaring down at him with dull eyes, she lazily tugged the rifle from his back, forcing herself to stand and turn around.

She hadn’t heard the group of soldiers thundering up the stairs, but she had apparently sensed it. Effortlessly, she lifted the rifle and took aim, crouching down and firing away as the men made their way up one by one. By the time the team died out, she heard the gun click. Her gaze bored down at the rifle, realizing she had burned through the ammo. With a grunt of disapproval, she discarded the gun, then ripped another one away from a nearby lifeless body. She used that rifle to finish off the squad, blankly staring ahead after lowering the gun.

As her mind clouded over, taking in the scene before her, she tossed the gun to the side, straining to hear as it clattered against the steel platform. A bloodbath. That was the only way she could possibly describe it. Piles of bodies across such a small space, silver metal now stained red from blood and black from gunpowder. Lifeless eyes of the fallen seemed to watch her as she lifted her hands, taking in the way blood coated her skin. She wasn’t sure how much of it was hers and how much of it was the captain’s. She paid it no mind, instead rotating her hands to examine her knuckles. She had most definitely broken a few, if not all, of them,

Had she actually done all of this?

Nothing felt real.

The sudden sound of harsh coughing broke her out of her trance, forcing her attention toward the source. She scrambled over to [Y/N]’s side, holding her head up as she processed just how badly she had been hurt. Adding onto the gaping wound in her torso, countless bruises and cuts peppered every exposed inch of skin. The back of her head had been dripping blood from being hammered into the wooden beam. Lara gasped and frantically helped her prop her head up to prevent choking on her blood, her eyes scanning the surrounding area for something to help stop the bleeding. She grimaced when [Y/N] whimpered from the way she stretched over to grab a torn uniform.

Thinking on her feet, she slid to the wall of the base and leaned the wounded girl against it, apologizing tearfully each time she yelped in pain. After tearing the uniform into a thinner piece, she began stuffing part of the wound, earning more cries. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, finally using the rest of the cloth to ball it up. “This is going to hurt, but I need you to trust me.”

Before [Y/N] even opened her eyes, Lara forced her hand downward, applying an immense amount of both pressure and pain to the wound. At this, [Y/N] screamed in agony, her eyes beginning to roll back as her breaths quickened. Lara cupped her jaw and shifted forward. “[Y/N]? No, [Y/N], I need you to stay with me, okay? Keep your eyes open! Everything’s going to be okay, I promise. Stay with me,” she said, struggling to keep her voice steady.

“[Y/N], please, I can’t lose you. Not like this. Keep your eyes open–that’s all I need you to do!” Her words fell upon deaf ears, no matter how desperate they became. Before Lara could beg for her to listen again, [Y/N]’s head drooped down, her body now completely limp.

“[Y/N]?” Lara whimpered, shaking the unconscious girl’s head as a silent plea. When no response came from the motion, the Croft felt her tears beginning to spill, only being able to whisper “no” repeatedly. Her hand, the one that had been holding up the woman’s head, slid down to check for a pulse. She gasped softly when she found it, though realized she had to act quickly from how weak it was. “Shit,” she blurted, once again examining her surroundings. That bastard had thrown her radio over the railing with her weapons. There was no way she could contact Jonah without alerting any other potential Trinity bases of where they were. One look down at [Y/N], however, forced her to take that risk.

She stood and quickly rushed over to the nearby bodies, her calloused, bloodied hands desperately searching their equipment for a radio of sorts. She cursed with each failed search, though lit up only a fraction once she found one. Quickly, she ran to sit by [Y/N]’s side again, holding her up and pulling her close, keeping an eye on her as she sent out a message.

“Jonah? Jonah, are you there? Can you hear me? I need your help: [Y/N]’s bleeding out!”

She released the button, only earning static in response. Her eyes shot back to the woman beside her, her only shimmer of hope dimming immediately. Her finger clicked down again, lifting it closer to speak into it once more.

“Jonah, I need you here! Jonah, please, can you hear me?”

A choked sob erupted unwillingly from her throat. She felt like curling into herself and breaking right there. Now hunched over, she clutched the radio tightly against her chest, grasping a handful of her hair as she tried to come up with another plan. All she could bring herself to do for a moment was weep, terrified of losing the woman propped up by her side.

Her mind cleared for a brief second, and although she had no idea where they were, she knew they couldn’t stay there. More reinforcements were bound to show up sooner or later, and she was in no state to fight them all. She stood, peering out at the landscape in hopes of finding a landmark she had passed before. The lids of her eyes threatened to shut, heavy with fatigue from the loss of adrenaline and the salty tears that had fallen.

She staggered closer to the rail, gripping onto it tightly as a way to ground herself as she searched further. Her heart felt like it was going to sink down into the pit of her stomach upon spotting a village in the distance. She turned to [Y/N], unsure if either of them could even make it that far. There was a chance it wasn’t the village she had been in either, on top of the fact there could be more traps hidden in the forest.

That only stopped her briefly. She knew they needed to leave, and she knew it was better to head out with the chance of finding Jonah than staying there to die.

Willing every ounce of strength she had left, she plucked the rifle she had thrown to the side back up, slinging it over her shoulder before wobbling back to [Y/N]. She huffed, sucking in a deep breath to ready herself, then bent down to pick her up, one arm tucking itself underneath her knees, and the other wrapping around her torso.

She turned, stumbled forward toward the stairs, and wrestled with the urge to look down at the unconscious form in her arms.

Each step down felt like a mile, Lara’s calves straining and aching, feeling as though they would give in and snap like twigs. By the time she managed to make it to the ground, it took everything in her not to collapse. She just kept telling herself they’ll be there soon. That was all she could do to keep moving forward. If she didn’t make it, not only would [Y/N] die, but she would as well. The marks from the beating she had taken had begun to finally sink in, adding to the difficulty.

She swayed every few steps. Her body threatened to fall over anytime she leaned too far.

She had no way of knowing she was going in the right direction, only able to rely on her instinct. There was no path, no landmark, no sign of nearing the village, which is why it was such a surprise when she could hear hollering up ahead. She strained her ears, hardly managing to make out that the unidentified voice was calling her name.

“Jonah?” She whispered hoarsely.

“Lara! [Y/N]! Are you two out there?”

“Jonah,” she weeped, unable to raise her voice any further.

Her feet continued to stumble toward the sound of his voice. The closer she got, the stronger the small spark of adrenaline she somehow still had grew. Finally, realizing he was only a few feet away, Lara managed to pick up her pace, lightly jogging forward. “Jonah, we’re here,” she cried out weakly. She moved ahead, breaking through the entrance of the forest to reveal the small patch of land they had originally tried to set up camp at. There, Jonah turned around and instantly ran over.

“Lara, you’re alright! I heard gunfire, but I didn’t know where you were, and–”

“Jonah, we need to get back to the plane right now. [Y/N]’s losing too much blood, and I don’t know how much longer she’s going to last,” although her tone was weak, there was no doubt she was terrified. Jonah finally looked down to the woman in Lara’s arms, his body tensing at the sight of all she had been through.

“Shit, what did–okay, but what about what you came here for? We can’t come back! Trinity’s going to–” Jonah knew that even mentioning the artifact in that moment was a mistake, but his mind was racing, preventing him from thinking logically.

“Forget the artifact, Jonah!” Lara snapped, her raspy voice finally reaching the volume she’d wanted to have when calling for him. “I don’t give a shit about that right now! I just want [Y/N] to survive! I’m the reason she’s in this state to begin with–I don’t want to be the reason she dies!”

At her sudden tone, Jonah could only nod and motion for Lara to hand [Y/N] to him to carry her there. Reluctantly, Lara did so, only after realizing she wouldn’t be able to make it to the plane in time if she were the one taking her. Without a moment to lose, Jonah began rushing up the path toward where they had landed, shouting behind him for the Croft to follow.

The ringing returned the closer they got, her vision blurring and growing dark. Everything was spinning, and she had to force herself to keep track of Jonah. By the time they had all made it into the plane, Lara’s body finally gave out.

“You know, I don’t think I had ever scared my father that badly before,” Lara murmured, a gentle chuckle escaping as she smiled fondly at the memory. With a sigh, she felt the pad of her thumb caress the tattered skin on the back of [Y/N]’s hands. For just a single moment, the ticking of the clock hanging above the door synced up with the beeping of the monitor beside the bed. Just as quickly, they fell out of rhythm again, and Lara waited for them to repeat it. Every few minutes, for the past several weeks, both would beat together for just a brief second, only to fall apart again.

It was the only thing she could look forward to anymore. It kept her distracted so she didn’t have to process everything just yet–so she didn’t have to look up at the woman deep in a coma in the bed she sat by. Jonah would come in here and there, reminding her to eat something small or to bring her a spare blanket for the night. Nurses would step inside to take vitals and update Lara on what was happening. And even though [Y/N] was there, whenever everyone else would leave, Lara still felt alone.

She could talk to her, but it was more like talking at her. She had no idea if the woman could hear anything she said, nor did she know when she was going to wake up. It had been seven weeks since they made it back from the expedition. Lara’s injuries were treated fairly easily, but [Y/N] had fallen into a medical coma from blood loss and excessive blunt force trauma. Her chances of survival in the beginning were slim, but things started to steadily improve as the days passed by.

Those days, however, felt like years to Lara. The woman she could once talk to and joke around with, the woman she could once hold and be held by, the woman she could once gaze into the eyes of, now lay before her, unmoving and silent. She was alive, but to Lara she seemed dead. She had been so lively before, and now she couldn’t even open her eyes.

To fill the never-ending silence that weighed heavy upon her shoulders, Lara would talk aloud, pretending as though she was sharing her thoughts with [Y/N] like she had done before everything went awry. Recently, after running out of small-talk she had murmured like it was scripted, she had resorted to retelling memories she had of her father back as a child. Somehow, even as [Y/N] stayed unconscious, Lara felt comfortable sharing her favorite times spent with her late father. Anyone else would’ve been waved off and told she wasn’t comfortable, but [Y/N] had always been the one person she could come to to speak of him freely.

Even seemingly dead, [Y/N] was still the only one she trusted. It was funny, in a way.

She huffed out a sigh, lifting the woman’s hand to her lips and pressing a featherlike kiss to her knuckles. Once her lips left the clammy skin, she brought her head down to lean it against the back of her hand. Her eyes closed, brows furrowed as she bit back a sob.

“I wish I had never brought you with me. If I hadn’t, you would still be comfortable at home, watching TV and sleeping in. You wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t… You wouldn’t be hurt, or strapped to this machine, or fighting for your life. You wouldn’t be in a coma.” She sniffled, squeezing the hand still against her forehead. “This is all my fault. I’m so sorry, [Y/N]. I would take it all back if I could.”

Some part of her waited, half-expecting a response. She whimpered, clearing her throat to prevent herself from bursting into tears again. With a hard swallow, she lifted her head, gaze trailing up to [Y/N]’s face. She smiled. “I have no idea how, but you still look so beautiful. Even when you’re out like this.”

Her free hand lifted far enough to caress the girl’s cheek, then pinch the bridge of her own nose, internally groaning at how heavy her eyes felt. Once her hand planted itself back on her thigh, she glanced over at the heart monitor, watching each movement on the screen intently for a moment, allowing herself to gather her thoughts. Finally, she faced [Y/N] again. Her hand squeezed her leg, unsure of what to say.

“I love you. So, so much. I should’ve said it more before… all of this, but I’m saying it now. I do love you, [Y/N], more than anything in this world.”

She huffed out a pained laugh.

“I don’t know why I’m so mad at you. None of this is your fault. I’m the one who dragged you into the expedition, and I’m the one who ended up getting you captured. I wish I hadn’t begged you to come with me. You deserve to be at home, not in this bed. I should’ve protected you, and I didn’t, and for that, I’m so sorry. You deserve someone better: someone who wouldn’t have gotten you into this mess.

“The worst part is: I don’t even know if you can hear me. I’m not sure if you’ve heard anything I’ve said this entire time. I’m not sure why knowing that you might not hear me hurts so badly, but it does.” Tears once again pricked the corners of her eyes. “God, I wish I could hear your voice again. I miss you so much. I know you’re right in front of me, and I know you’re still breathing and alive, but I’ve never felt so alone. It doesn’t feel like you’re really here. It feels like you’re not you.”

The tears stinging her eyes now blurred her vision and poured down in thick masses. Her free arm raised, allowing her to use the sleeve of her jacket to wipe them away. Once they dried, she looked up at her again, hands trembling harshly.

“Please wake up. I’m begging you.”

Grumbling was all Lara could do in her unconscious state. Any small sound she could hear had her grumbling louder: pages flipping, pens scribbling, pills rattling, doors opening, monitors beeping. Everything that she could hear seemed to be working against her, screaming at her to wake back up. It was late at night when she finally let herself drop her head onto the edge of the hospital bed to rest. Hand still clutching onto [Y/N]’s, she managed to drift off for the first time in days.

The sounds grew incessant, however, stirring her partially awake. Each little noise irritated her further, and she had to fight the urge to muffle the scream bubbling up in her throat with the sheets cushioning her head. To add onto her growing frustration, something squeezed softly at her hand, forcing her back to her senses.

“For fuck’s sake,” she mumbled, lifted her head, then looked down at her hand. Her brows pinched tightly together, she sat there, processing what she had just felt. Again, her hand was squeezed.

Her brain, although severely sleep deprived, finally managed to register what had happened. Immediately, she looked up from her hand, her eyes landing on [Y/N], who finally opened her eyes for the first time in months. She gazed back at Lara the way the brunette had been craving the entire time. Upon seeing that she was now awake, tears instantly trickled out from Lara’s eyes, a shaky sob accompanying them.

“[Y/N]?” She whispered, unsure if she was actually awake.

“Hey, Lara,” came her raspy reply, a tired grin gracing her cracked lips.

Right away, Lara sprung up from her seat by the bed and leaned forward, capturing [Y/N] in a tight embrace. “Oh my god, I don’t–” She sniffled. Her leg lifted up, allowing her to sit beside the woman now practically cradling her in return. “You’re awake. You’re finally awake. I don’t believe it.”

She leaned back from the hug, cupping [Y/N]’s face in her hands and studying every little feature she could see. Sob after sob wracked through her body as she pressed a kiss to the wounded woman’s lips, only shifting back to pepper the rest of her face in similar kisses. “I thought I lost you,” she whispered after calming down enough to speak. Her voice trembled and broke more with each passing word, rambling about what she had feared.

“God, I love you so much.”

Again, she captured [Y/N]’s lips in her own, pure relief washing through her senses when she felt her kissing back. Weakly, the bandaged girl chuckled. “I love you too,” she rasped out.

Lara instantly leaned back into the embrace, clutching desperately at the hospital gown she rested against. She swayed side to side, shivering as [Y/N] soothingly rubbed up and down her back. She couldn’t begin to explain how she felt at that moment. All she could say was she was so relieved to know that the woman she held closest to her heart was alive and breathing.

“Can I ask you something?” A soft voice whispered. She leaned away again to look her in the eye. “Of course. Anything at all.”

“What happened after I was stabbed?”

Lara froze, now growing uncertain. “You don’t remember?” She sucked in a shaky breath when her only response was a shake of the head. Her gaze dropped down, unsure of where to start. She scratched the back of her neck anxiously, took another deep breath in an attempt to steel her nerves, then cleared her throat. “Well, I’m not really…”

She turned to glance behind her, ensuring no one else was in the room before she spoke again. There was no shame in what she had done–not for her–but she’d be torn away instantly if someone overheard. [Y/N] had just woken back up, and she wasn’t going to risk losing her all over again. Although, that still might be a possibility, depending on how she took the news.

She explained herself, sparing no detail of what she had committed in her blind rage. From wrestling with the soldiers to stabbing the captain of the team in both the chest and the throat, she confessed every little atrocity that had been brought about by her hands alone. As she spoke, she averted her eyes, too afraid of being gazed at with disgust. She focused on the pattern stitched into the bedsheets bundled up atop [Y/N]’s legs.

Finally, she managed to tear her eyes away from the sheets and look back into [Y/N]’s. She swallowed, surprised to see that familiar glint of admiration in her eyes. There was no sign of repulsion or discomfort at the heinous things she had admitted to. “You’re not mad?” Was all she could ask. [Y/N] snickered and shook her head.

“Are you kidding? Those asswipes beat the shit out of me, and one tried to kill me. I don’t exactly have sympathy for them after that.” Relieved, Lara sighed and grinned. It was a breath of fresh air to see her laugh again, even though it was rather weak.

She turned to sit next to [Y/N], who she then pulled into her side. With a quick peck to the top of the head, she closed her eyes and yawned. “Tired?” “Mmhm.” “Yeah, same.” Lara laughed, looking down at her in confusion. “You were in a coma for nearly three months. Why are you tired?” [Y/N] smirked and rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t willingly unconscious. Plus, my body just sucks,” she murmured, earning another chuckle.

“Well, I love your body,” Lara mumbled, tugging her closer. “Every bit of it.”

Waiting a moment, [Y/N] leaned against the brunette fully, her head dropping onto her shoulder as she closed her eyes. She grinned, listening to Lara yawn again before she shivered. “Move your legs for a second,” she whispered to the already half-asleep woman. “Hm?” “Move your legs.” “What? Why?” “So I can cover you up with the blankets.”

Lara seemed to take a moment to understand what she had said. Finally, though, she lifted her legs with a groan, letting [Y/N] slip the covers out from under her and essentially tuck her in beside her. Both sighed in relief: Lara from the warmth of the sheets and [Y/N] pressed against her, and [Y/N] from the feeling of Lara holding her close.

Lights had been turned off throughout the ward for a while, which both women were silently grateful for. As they shuffled to lie down more comfortably beneath the covers, everything seemed to settle down for the first time in months. Lara’s body finally relaxed, the lack of sleep from the past several weeks catching up to her at a rapid speed. She hummed softly as she turned onto her side, pulling [Y/N] into her chest.

“I’m never taking you on a trip like that again,” she slurred out. “At least, not until I know Trinity won’t be there.”

[Y/N] nodded as she listened, also partially asleep. She squirmed a bit, sliding closer while trying to mind her IV. As her head settled against Lara’s chest, she yawned. A moment passed before she spoke again.

“You do know the nurses are gonna come in any minute and realize I’m awake, right?” A groan sounded from Lara, prompting a snicker from [Y/N]. “I’m gonna crawl back into the bed again the second they leave. I just want you in my arms right now.”

“Well, either way, I want you to know that I could hear you for most of the time I was out. And I also want you to know that I plan on saying “I love you” as many times as you did before I woke up. I really do love you. I mean, you were right here the second I woke up, and I don’t know if you ever…” She thought for a moment, opening her eyes and looking up at Lara. “Did you ever leave the room?” Even as she fought to stay awake, Lara scratched her cheek nervously. “Only when I used the restroom. I was afraid I wouldn’t be here when you woke up.”

[Y/N] grinned. “Well, I’m glad you were here. I was worried you wouldn’t be here at all when I woke up. I figured you’d leave and head home, or maybe go back to the village we were at.” Gently yet reassuringly, Lara squeezed her closer. “I would never do that to you. You’re everything to me.”

“And you’re everything to me.”

Another yawn managed to escape the brunette’s lips. She pressed a small kiss to the top of [Y/N]’s head and sighed, already drifting off again. “I love you, so damn much. No one’s going to hurt what’s mine, never again.”

“I’m yours, huh?”

“Of course.”

A gentle smile graced [Y/N]’s features as she shuffled closer, pressing a kiss to Lara’s collarbone as her eyes fluttered shut.

“Of course I’m yours.”

[wings-of-ink]

Checking in (*Asks info/update also below)

Hello dears! I hope you are all well. I just wanted to pop in since I've been a bit quiet lately and let you know that I'm still here (watching your every move).

I've taken a nice rest since Chapter 4's release to take care of stuff at home and to be a sleepy bitch, lol. I have still managed to outline more detail into chapter 5 and even write up a little scene for an encounter you'll have later in that chapter (cue violins).

Other than that, I've been reading some other works that have been on my list along with some other IFs recommended to me while I plot something nefarious.

*If you are one of my Askers, I'm also here to say that the inbox might get closed completely for a bit soon. I think I may leave it open until this weekend though (maybe until like Saturday around mid-day). I will still request that reaction asks remain limited. I know I've still been accepting a few though I paused those, but I'm only doing them at my absolute leisure. I have a few in my inbox now that I will chew on this week.

Not to fear though, this isn't a permanent thing. I am going on a vacation with my spouse the first week of September. It's our first "real" vacation, and is sort of a late honeymoon (9 years later *cough*). So, you may not hear from me much as I prepare for the trip and then actually go on it. Don't fret, I'll bring you a souvenir.

While that's cooking, I will continue outlining chapter 5 and then get to writing it. I have something else I've been thinking on, and I may poll you all about it soon once I've gathered my thoughts (all good things, no worries). Once chapter 5 is out, I will take a longer break from GC and play around with some things for a second IF project (I haven't chosen which to do for sure, but I am leaning towards the winner of the last poll for our serial killer drama).

Anyway, I think that's all I got for now. Take care (and take naps, lol)! ^_^

[ingo-ingoing-ingone]

A Personal Post

Hi guys, I'm finally making the post I kept telling myself and my best friends I'd make but wanted to put it off until I felt better. That hasn't happened and with how things are going I thought it was best to just post it now.

So for a while, since probably late 2023, I've felt less like my blog is for me, and more like it's some kind of fandom archive. Which, if you use it this way as-is, great! I'm glad my blog could make you happy like that! But that's not what I set out for it to be.

I'm the sort of neurodivergent person who likes to categorize things, including my interests. All my tumblr blogs are specific to one thing, and this one was no exception.

I began tagging things soon after I made the blog because I saw a lot of people were sad about the twins, and I thought "well since I love both sad and happy stuff, and I'm really good about categorizing things, maybe I can try and help!" And according to many, it did help!

But I think that also gave off the impression that I was making this blog for other folks, and that isn't the case. I'm sorry I never clarified. It's not an archive; I do not reblog shipping posts, posts from people I've blocked, AUs I don't click with, and sometimes just not everything I see.

I've gotten popular in the fandom, and for the most part I do, from the bottom of my heart, enjoy it. I have people who care about my hyperfixation! That's amazing! I have people who love my cosplay and want to meet up with me. I've made so many friends of all shapes and sizes and it's probably the most incredible thing I've ever experienced, truth be told.

But yeah my blog being mine has gotten away from me a bit, I think.

I want to keep tagging my submas tags, that isn't going to change. I will tag triggers when asked, unless it's kind of impossible due to the blog's subject (trains, for instance) or a name or really common word (like the word 'head' or something). Other than that please reach out and I'll do my best to remember. But other tags? Those will be up to me. I don't want to tag when OCs show up. I love OCs and like seeing them, and don't want to have to remember that one person who visits my blog doesn't.

I had anon off for a while because honestly ever since making this blog, there have been anons who really made me unhappy. (Also yes, non-anons but that's been fewer and far between). I've gotten misinformation, accusations, horrible and disgusting explicit asks, and criticisms and complaints, and I'm just... Not here for that. Keep the explicit things and misinfo out of my inbox, I am no arbiter of morality or personal decisions, and I am not here for you to share your negative opinions of submas or the fandom.

Anon is on for people who are too self conscious to chat face to face, for people to send fun headcanon ideas (remember when people did that back in 2022 when this blog started? I miss that, it was sweet and wholesome), to share song recommendations... That kind of stuff. If you have an actual problem, please, PLEASE talk to me off anon, whether that be DMs or a non-anon ask that I can answer privately. Especially if we're friends; please, please just talk to me about stuff. I don't bite! I swear!

But yeah the bottom line is I'm here to participate in fun (and sometimes heartbreaking!) fandom stuff. I'm here for FUN, not as my job. I know that we're all a bunch of neurodivergent folks and sometimes interactions can be a swing and a miss, but please try to be mindful. Please treat me like a person and not just like a museum curator for this blog.

Truth is, I haven't been okay for a while now. It's gotten worse this year for sure, and due to life stuff I cannot see things feeling better for me for some time. I need to go day by day for a lot of things, and I am trying to get better about needing to set boundaries and all that sort of thing. I suffer from intense paranoia too, and having so many eyes on me is genuinely terrifying at times. I'm trying to manage that as best I can, but I do ask that folks be kind.

NO I am not going anywhere, my blog is staying and will continue on as normal, but I really, really needed to get this posted.

Please continue to interact with me and chat and everything like that! But also please remember to treat this space, my blog, as my space. Thanks for reading!

[greenheartart]

I'm not very good at this sort of thing. I wasn't sure I wanted to say anything at all, since this has always just been my silly little safe place for loving Undertale. Not a place for other things, especially political stuff. But then it felt weird not to say anything. To just continue on and pretend nothing has happened and everything's okay.

Because it's not.

The fact that Trump has managed to get reelected is horrific. I've spent the last two days oscillating between dread and disbelief and burying myself in games for hours on end, just to try to forget about the world for a while. Hasn't really helped, if I'm being honest. My body hurts from how tense I am and I can't seem to shake the stress headache at the base of my skull. It feels like there's no escape from it. It's everywhere online and when I leave my house, it's still everywhere I go, in campaign signs on lawns and in the conversations I overhear from strangers. All my friends are scared and anxious and angry and frustrated, and none of us know what to do about it.

And I imagine it's the same for many of you.

It's an exhausting thought that so many of us are struggling right now. I hate it, and I'm so sorry we're all going through this.

I guess what I want to say that I know I'm more of a background presence, even on my own blog at times, but if anyone needs someone to reach out to, I'm here. My inbox is open and so are my DMs. If you feel alone and need to talk to someone, or want a distraction from what's going on and want to talk about fandoms or pets or anything else, or hell, have even just wanted to say hi and have needed an excuse, please. Reach out, ask to chat, just say hi. I'll answer.

And I also want to say I'm not going anywhere. Maybe things will take longer for me to get to than I want for mental health reasons, or maybe I'll throw myself even harder into this to cope. Who knows. I just know that I love telling stories and I love making art, and I love getting to share that with all of you and getting to see you love it too. I'm horrified by the world right now, but that just makes me want to push back against the horrors harder in the only way I know how.

Community is important. Art is important. We have to find joy and connection wherever we can, especially when things are at their worst.

So... just take care, everyone. Do whatever you can to keep your head up and don't give into despair. I'll see you around soon. ♥

[oddballwriter]

(I apologize in advance if this is does not land in ur inbox, I have not used tumbler in a few years)

I think a short fic with Nordic being overly clingy would be cute, like his partner needs to leave to do something but he doesn’t feel like letting them leave quite yet

What is this Exam?

Summary: Basically what the requests says.

Warnings: None really, that I can think of 

Author’s Snip: I wrote this down in a sort of haze, so sorry if it's bad.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 543

Ah, Nordic Bunny. What an interesting boyfriend you managed to score. I mean, he's a guitar-robot alien who plans to take over the galaxy and is currently working on taking over Earth, with varying degrees of success. But you love him from tail to strings and you've managed to find s place under his big bad imperial emperor of the galaxy and extreme barrier of awesomeness persona.

Clingy is a word that could definitely be used when describing one aspect of your relationship. You don't put it past him too much since he's apparently never had a friend before, something that you were sure came with being dead set on domination of the galaxy. However, he's very... insistent that you be around him all the time. That's how you end up spending a lot of time at his base, which actually has a breathable atmosphere, to your surprise. Nordic Bunny has made an effort to make his base more homey for you whenever you visit, at least as homey as he can make it considering most of it is a factory-like setting, but a corner of his office and a place for you to sleep is good enough for you.

But much to his dismay, you have things to do back on Earth that would cause you to have to leave every once in a while, something that Nordic hates but has come to understand as more of a you-thing than a him-thing. That doesn't mean he doesn't try to object though.

"And what exactly is the importance of this exam? What are you examining?" Nordic questions, earning a laugh from you. "Well, I'm not the one examining. I'm the one getting examined." you clarify. "What?" Nordic exclaims, "There's nothing wrong with you? You seem in perfectly functioning order to me?" Nordic explains. "No, not that kind of exam," you mention. "It's an... intellect exam. It's to test how much I know about a certain topic that I've been learning. So I need to take it to see how much I've retained and have it measured on if I know an acceptable amount." you explain.

"Well, what happens if you just don't take it?" Nordic asks in a tone that makes it clear that he wants you to try and opt out of it. You try to explain what would happen if you did that but you figure that it would be hard to articulate how a grade and college system works to your robot boyfriend who's probably never heard of a college so you settle on just saying that you don't have the option to skip it.

"I'll come back." you promise, "I always do, you know that," you mention. "I just need to leave so that I can study to have enough knowledge for the exam and then take it. When I have my grade I'll have you come get me so that I can come back here. Okay." you say. Nordic crosses his arms and grumbles before saying "Well why don't you just study here and then you go take the exam?".

"Because you're very distracting," you flirt with a wink, Nordic gasps and then smiles.

"Oh, and no creating a plan to get my exam day canceled," you warn.

[rosesradio]

See, I thought I'd just wait until you turned anon asks back on... then I realized I can't wait that long. (Ignore that it hasn't even been a day)

Here's me unmasking solely to agree with you that Jason railing Octavian would have fixed him 💙💙💙

–Jasico smut off-anon 💙🖤

i can't believe the jasico smut anon's finally been unmasked 🥺 i feel bad considering that i didn't leave anon off that long/i was just being a silly goose, but still. i'm glad you felt okay to unmask beloved mutual 💌

aaanyways, i did have some jason/octavian ideas i mused about over work i might as well talk about since you came all this way (to my inbox)

i'm sure there's a ship name for jason/octavian somewhere & i'm not the first to come up with jack shit, though for simplicity's sake i'll call/tag them javian

i can see a scenario in which jason & octavian are like childhood friends turned long-time political rivals. jason's been praetor for ages & pratically primed for the position since he could walk (i know richard gave jason more of a rags-to-riches 5th cohort story in canon but tbh...i don't buy that shit. bro's a nepo baby). octavian's jealous & corrupt & flirting with a decent into madness.

i think that the camp jupiter campers would be pretty sexually repressed (first chb's abhorrent sex ed, now this lol). maybe it's unintentional, these campers are fighting & dying & don't have the time or necessity to learn about sex, apparently. jason would probably come to a point where he regularly gets himself off, but octavian...wouldn't. he'd do it a couple times, the stats of which are shocking & worrying at best. he's got shit to do, right? augur here, praetor-to-be there—he has no time for that sort of thing...until he does.

the tension between jason & octavian could develop into a rivals-with-benefits situation. octavian was never one to practice battle, though he starts joining jason, challenging him. jason overpowers him easily, pinning wrists and hips under strong, large hands. he'd say something along the lines of "if i didn't know any better, i'd say you were enjoying this"

...and he is. a lot more than he should.

i think jason would enjoy tying octavian down, finally restraining him to do what he wants. octavian, surprisingly, would like it too. he constantly feels things spiraling out of control, so to have a space he's confined to, an act with the same steps and the same building pleasure, brings octavian a strange sense of comfort and relief.

jason would consider a ball gag to really shut up octavian's quips, though he loves the sound of octavian coming undone too much for that. as stated, octavian's super sexually repressed. although there's a certain amount of shame there, he's too far gone to feel self concious about how he moans and begs for jason. he is really sensitive, too, and it takes a bit of time to build up his stamina. jason's more than happy to help him get there, even if that means getting himself off in various ways during their first few hookups.

there's a few soft moments in their dynamic, though it's far from healthy and fluffy. at times, it's almost like another duty to fulfill, a practice that makes their lives easier. there's a professionalism to it.

at one point, when jason's got octavian laid down on the bed, his cock down his throat as octavian's hands are tied to jason's headboard (thank goodness for a praetor's private quarters...people are not at all getting suspicious about how many times octavian goes in there to "discuss matters of great importance to new rome", or whatever). octavian starts to roll his hips up towards jason on impulse, his thighs trembling.

& jason pins his hips firmly to the mattress, pulling off to give him a stern look. he tells him not to move, to stay absolutely still and take what jason's giving him "like a good boy". & part of octavian hates how demeaning it feels, though at the same time...his cock twitches, leaking a bit of precum. & he manages a "...yes, sir" that surprises even himself. he's not sure where that came from or why he's so turned on by it.

it's like it makes this obscene thing they're doing less obscene...or perhaps more so, breaking decorum in one of the only ways octavian will allow.

jason seems to like it, too, raising his brows before resuming with double the efforts. octavian writhes in his binds, longing to run his fingers through jason's hair. he pants and moans, fighting the urge to roll his hips as he calls him "sir" over and over again, like a prayer.

it doesn't take octavian long to come after that, and jason is sure to incorporate this new discovery from then on out.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Mistake - Part 2

Pairing: Frankie Morales, Santiago Garcia, F!reader

Word Count: 2500+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I never planned to write a part 2 for Mistake, but so many people asked me for one, I felt compelled to write it! A HUGE thanks to @mermaidxatxheart for literally saving my ass on this one. Seriously, go thank her and while you’re there, binge her writing!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

Santiago Garcia Masterlist

<<Mistake Part 1<<

It's been 6 weeks since I've talked to Santi or Frankie. I've been begging Santi to talk to me, apologizing to a now full inbox, flooding his phone with texts. He's not as his usual spots whenever I manage to get the courage to try and find him. The guilt has made me physically sick, exhausted all the time from just thinking about it. 

And then there's Frankie. 

As much as I've tried to reach out to Santi, Frankie has tried to reach me. On one hand, it's hard not to talk to him. He's been my best friend since forever. I've been in love with him nearly that entire time, and apparently the feeling is mutual. 

But the way we had to find out was fucked up. 

I never wanted to hurt Santi. I do love him, but if I'm being honest with myself, I didn't love him the way he deserves. It's like he was the closest thing I could get to Frankie. 

Bile rises in my throat, my stomach churning and I run to the bathroom, just barely making it to the toilet before emptying my breakfast into it. It's been like this for a couple of weeks, my guilt taking over my body physically to match the way my heart feels. All I'd need now to top off this fuck me fest is my period-

Wait. When did I have that last?

I whip out my phone, quickly tapping on my calendar app, looking for the red dots indicating the start of my cycle. Once I find them, I quickly count the weeks and realize I'm nearly a month overdue for my period. 

"There's no way."

I skim the calendar, locating the day that we had our combined bachelor/ette parties and…fuck it's totally possible. Fuck fuck fuck!

After I finish vomiting yet again, I manage to get myself out of the house and to the pharmacy up the street, sort of floating through the aisles to pick up a box of pregnancy tests. I silently pay for them and the woman hands me my bag, offering a small smile and a "Good luck," to me under her breath. 

I get home and head straight into the bathroom, determined not to drag this out. I'm just sick from the horrible shit I've put Santi through. That has to be it. My mind goes a million places all at once, until the little timer on my phone goes off. Taking a deep breath, I flip the test over. 

PREGNANT

I stare at the word as it stares back at me, taking several long seconds before I actually take it what I'm seeing. Pregnant. I'm pregnant. There's a baby in me right now. And it's…

There was only 1 person I had sex with at that time, as Santi and I were on a temporary hiatus until after the wedding. 

"Of fucking course!" I yell at the universe, once again throwing a curveball in the path that is my relationship to Frankie.

Frankie. Fuck, what is he going to say? He already has a kid from an ex wife. An ex wife he hates. I don't want to be like her, forcing Frankie into something he doesn't want. But what do I want?

A quick text to my friend and she's coming over for drinks. Well, one of us is drinking anyway. 

—-

"I'm sorry,  you're what??" My friend Olivia spits out, handing me a napkin for the drink she just spit at me.

"Pregnant."

"Yeah I heard you I just…are you sure?"

I nod. "I took several tests. I have my OB appointment next week and-"

"Wait. You're keeping it?"

I take a breath, eyes scanning my living room. "Yeah."

Olivia looks at me. "You think Santi will come back?"

I play with the condensation on my glass of water. "It's Frankie's."

Olivia slams her hand on the table. "What? From that night?"

I nod and she lets out a whistle. "Are you gonna tell him?"

"I don't-"

Suddenly, I hear footsteps on my porch. Confused, as I wasn't expecting anyone, I get up, Olivia following behind me as I open the door. 

"Hey."

My stomach drops completely out as I stare up into the eyes of my ex fiance. 

"S-Santi."

His eyes scan my face, dipping quickly down my body. "Can I come in?"

"I uh.. s-sure."

I step back, allowing Santi to come into my home. He gives me a small smile and holds up his finger. 

"Wait a sec." He looks back out towards my driveway.

I hear more footsteps on my porch and then he's there, curls flipping out from under a hat, hands in his pockets because he doesn't know how to deal with the tension. 

"Come on, man. Don't just stand there." Santi walks past me and grabs his arm, pulling him inside. We all stand there in an awkward silence for several long moments before Santi clears his throat. 

"Can we talk?"

"Y-yeah." 

Santi follows me into the kitchen, Olivia giving me a questioning look as I pass her. I honestly have no idea what's going on and am having a hard time processing everything that's happening. I offer Santi a drink, but he declines, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. 

"I'm sorry," Santi says with extreme sincerity. 

Well that was unexpected.

"What?"

"I've been thinking these last few weeks and I've realized a lot of shit. I love you, querida, and I always will. But I think I loved the idea of you more."

"Again, what?"

"Look, I… I won't lie. When I saw you there with Frankie…that fucking hurt. I mean destroyed me." He puts a hand out as I open my mouth to apologize. 

"Just let me talk… anyway, I realized through the pain that what I was missing most was a wife, the commitment to someone to start a life with. Not you, exactly. I mean it…it still fucking hurts, but I'm not… I'm not mad. Anymore.” He takes a moment to gather himself and me? I’m just…I have no words.

“Querida, you deserve someone who loves you for you. Who wants to be with you and not just because it’s easy. Frankie is that. No, don’t look at me like that, he is. I… I knew he was in love with you, even with all the shit that happened with Claire, and I knew how you felt. It wasn’t hard to figure out - you’re both idiots.” He chuckles a little sadly and I feel tears starting to burn at the corners of my eyes. “I really should have never pursued you, but when Frankie got Claire pregnant and then married her, you looked so sad and I just…I wanted to take care of you. Take that hurt away-”

“And you did! You-”

“That’s good to know…Anyway, I reached out to Frankie and he tells me you aren’t talking to him? That you hate him?”

I dab furiously at my eyes, trying to get them to stop leaking, but I nod. “He lied, Santi. We both did. He knew I was c-calling your n-name and he k-kept going. And I f-figured out w-what I was d-doing and started c-calling out his n-name, and I just, Santi I am s-so s-s-sorry, and n-now I c-can’t s-stop c-crying!”

Santi swallows hard, then closes the distance between us, wrapping me in his arms, letting me soak his shirt as my shoulders shake. He shushs me, rocking me slightly to get me to calm down. Eventually, I do, somehow managing to contain myself and these pregnancy hormones.

Ah, fuck. The pregnancy. Do I tell Santi? No, I have to talk to Frankie first. 

“Querida, you have to talk to Frankie.”

I look up at him, pushing away from him and wiping my eyes. “No. I-I can’t.”

“If you’re worried about me, don’t be. I didn’t go through all of this self discovery to not have the 2 most important people in my life be together when they’re so very obviously still in love with each other.”

“Santi, I cheated on you with him. I can’t just forget-”

“Look. It wouldn’t have happened if it were anyone else and I know that. I knew better and I shouldn’t have asked you out. Just…talk to him? For me?” He raises his eyebrows at me until I agree. He smiles, giving me one last hug and kissing the top of my head.

I’m still not sure what’s happening, not entirely. Santi showing up and forgiving me was not on my bingo card for this lifetime.

Santi turns and walks out of the kitchen and I follow him, walking into the living area where Olivia and Frankie were making idle chit chat.

“Hey Fish, I’m gonna head out. It’s all good- no. You stay here.” Santi glances up at Olivia and his entire demeanour changes, like he just noticed, really noticed she was here. 

“Oh. Uh, yeah I’m heading out too,” Olivia says, meeting Santi’s gaze. “And you can take me to dinner. I’m starving.”

Santi smiles at her. “I’d love to.”

They leave, Frankie and I staring in shock at the closed door for several moments before I shake my head, moving to lock the door. I take a breath and turn around to see Frankie standing there, nervously shifting from foot to foot, lifting the hat from the top of his head and running his fingers through his hair.

Fuck he’s so hot.

“Did…did Santi tell you everything?”

I nod, my arms wrapping around myself. “He did.”

“Kind of wild, wasn’t it?”

“I mean, whatever works for him. He seems to be doing ok.”

“Yeah.”

Silence stretches between us for several long moments. 

“Hermosa, I- I’m sorry. Really. I shouldn’t have…I should’ve stopped-”

I sigh. “Yeah, but I knew, Frankie.”

“You what?”

“When you left, I started remembering more. At first I thought you were Santi but I did realize it at some point and then just…changed to saying your name. I wasn’t thinking straight because I love you, and then-”

Frankie’s eyes snap to mine. “You love me?”

“I-” I look at him. Time to confess everything.

“I..do.”

Frankie smiles, but then remembers we’re supposed to be serious, so he drops it. “I love you too.”

I study his face, the worry in his eyes, the patches in his beard. I have to tell him, even if it pushes him away. 

"Come sit with me?" I ask nervously, moving around to sit on the couch.

"Yeah. Yeah, ok." Frankie sits next to me, smoothing out his pants several times before settling. 

Fuck, this is hard. 

"Hermosa, I-"

"I'm pregnant."

Frankie freezes, mouth open mid word as his brain tries to process what I said. 

"P-pregnant?"

I nod. "Yup."

Several long moments pass between us, the air charged with tension. 

"Well…I.. I hope you and Santi can.. get back together. For the… the baby."

My eyebrows pinch together, my head slightly cooking to the side. "What?"

"Santi. I mean, I know he said he loves the idea of you more, but I think, or hope that would change with you carrying his child."

Oh. He doesn't realize.

"No, Frankie. It's not… the baby is yours."

His eyes grow wide, searching my face for a lie. "Wh-what? Are you sure?"

I nod. "Santi and I had promised no, uh, no sex for the month leading up to the wedding. So-"

"That night."

I nod. "Yup." I emphasize the p sound. 

"Listen, Frankie, I've thought about it a lot and… I'm keeping the baby. And you can be as involved as you want or not involved-" 

To my surprise, he's smiling, growing wider by the second and his eyes are all watery, like he's holding back tears. 

"Frank-"

"We're having a baby?"

"Yes. But did you hear-"

"Together? You and I?"

"Yes, that's what I said. Frankie, are you listening to-"

He lets out a small laugh, the smile lighting up his whole face and I swear he chokes back a "whoop". He takes my hand in his and the warmth from it immediately starts to calm me. His other hand comes up to the side of my face, his large fingers curving around the back of my head as his thumb softly rubs at the skin of my cheek. His eyes move between mine and then down to my lips and before I can think, he's in front of me, our lips just barely out of reach.

"Can I kiss you?" Frankie whispers, and I can't think of anything else besides how much I want him.

"Yes."

His lips push against mine gently, his fingers tightening their grip as he increases the pressure, sliding his tongue into my willing mouth. 

"Wait." I push back from him and he trails after me, eyes confused. 

"Did I hurt you?"

"No but Frankie, I think we need to talk about the baby in my uterus."

"What's there to talk about?"

My eyebrow raises. "Seriously?"

He smiles, nodding. "I'm all in, hermosa. Always. As much as you'll have me or want me to be."

"But you already have a daughter with someone else."

"So our baby will have a sister already."

"What about Claire?"

Anger flashes in his eyes. "What about her?"

"Will she be ok with this?" I gesture to my stomach. "With us?"

"I don't give a fuck what she thinks of us- wait. There's an us?"

"I-I-" Time to throw your last card on the table, the one you'd never lay down if it wasn't for Santi giving you permission.

"If.. if you don't think me and the baby would cramp your style."

He laughs, smiling wide for a few seconds before his eyes get a little darker, his voice dropping an octave or two.

"I'd put a hundred babies in you if you'd let me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I love you, Hermosa."

—-

With Santi's enthusiastic insistence, we get married a few months after our son is born.

And Santi marries Olivia the following year, starting on that life he always wanted. 

-------

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri @marrianena  @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol   @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics

[blindmagdalena]

why wont you answer my asks?

i'm sorry, but i can't possibly answer every single ask that comes my way. this is my inbox right now.

every ask i answer is inevitably followed by 3-5 more. i always try to answer the ones that don't require much brain power from me, but there are lots of them that do ask a lot of me, whether that be in terms of writing, brainstorming headcanons, scenarios, checking canon, etc etc.

if i had all the time in the world, i would love to devote serious time to each ask, but the reality is i have a full time life outside of this blog, i'm a mom, and no one pays me to be here. i do this for fun. the moment it starts feeling like an obligation is when i stop answering any asks at all.

at the start of the year i managed to shave my inbox down from 500+ to 150, and i've been trying to keep up, but realistically the only way i can do that is by closing my inbox, which i did do for a time. but i didn't like doing it. my inbox isn't just a place for people to get headcanons and fics from me, it's where i get to connect and chat and get music recs and all sorts of fun things.

i understand being disappointed in not getting an answer. i really do. i feel super guilty all the time for the backlog. but if it's a topic or an idea you really want to get into the fandom bloodstream, make a post about it. tag it. engage and contribute to the fandom at large and start a conversation! the cozy corner is so lovely, i promise.

i don't think you meant malice here, but it IS extremely discouraging and entitled. i'm doing my best.

[ctimenefic]

fic writer interview

thank you for the tag @testarossa, this was a lovely indulgent way to spend an evening. @prettydangrotten, @onadarklingplain and @rockyteriyaki, if you care to play I'll put my chin in my hands and kick my feet as I listen like we're in a 90s movie sleepover

How many works do you have on ao3?

22 posted

What’s your total word count?

total word count: 166,741

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

they're all in the Daredevil (Netflix) fandom, and all Matt/Foggy. Let's swap chests today (mutant AU), Invisible Ink (Tattoo Artist AU), A Wizard Did It (um.... Magical Statue AU?), Indelible Ink (Tattoo Artis sequel) and Shampoo, Rinse, Repeat (or how I ruined haircuts for myself for four years). Do you see how I gave myself a complex about only writing AUs?

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I try to! I've been fairly good about it recently. But I've had periods where I've been almost entirely out of fandom, and there's a pile in my inbox that are years overdue replies. And I reply because they make me feel good and I want to appreciate that! Every now and again I sit down an answer a pile from, like, 2020 with a biiiig apology and it genuinely lifts my spirits to do so.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

dust and ashes. sometimes we process grief on the internet!

but for f1 rpf specifically, well. That'll be either the living and the dead or no second chances, depending on which mid-season driver change devastated you most.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

oh god nearly all of them in some way or another, I love a happy ending (in fact there's an ask in my inbox right now that's indirectly about that). in terms of feeling like sunlight after a storm, three's a crowd. the rest are more soft landings after a gentle flight, imo.

Do you write crossovers?

Sort of. I've written MCU fic that crossed over with X-Men before Deadpool got there. And there's some others languishing in my G-drive.

If AUs based on established media count, then yeah, definitely - I've got some (thinly drawn) ideas for Inception and James Bond F1 rpf fics.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I don't think so! if I have, I forgot. I forget many things.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, yes I do. And it's getting smuttier. What kind, um- idk, there tends to be a plot attached, or a plot emerges eventually. It's mostly slash? (Does Rule 63 George count as slash or nah??)

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I have a vague recollection of reading something once that made me go 'hmmmm' but once again, my memory issues save me from recalling if it was actually a thing or if it was a two Dennis the Menaces situation.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No but I had my first podfic made this year! nony podficced positive negatives and don't like a gold rush, which is great because I consider them sister fics.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I am cowriting one right now with @latecomersprivilege. It's about the Australian GP and orgasm denial. Yes, this year's Australian GP. We're so good at meeting deadlines and writing in a timely manner (it's completely my fault).

What's your all-time favourite ship?

Merlin/Arthur, from BBC's Merlin. I only have one Merthur fic that I've let stay alive, but Merlin still occupies such a peculiar place in my life. I watched every season live, I participated in fandom to an extent I probably never will manage again - I loved those boys. I love them still.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

that one enjolras/grantaire fic that was going to be my magnum opus and ground to a halt at 20k. Some folders of my G-docs are cemeteries.

What are your writing strengths?

Worldbuilding, I think. Or, since that's quite a broad term, creating worlds that feel lived in. I'm not necessarily coming up with crop rotations and a full economy, but I think I'm good at suggesting the picture continues beyond the frame of the story. Also, I like to think I have a grasp on rhythm.

What are your writing weaknesses?

length length length. I hit 20k in a doc and my brain stutters to a stop, which means I really struggle with executing ideas that deserve longer. I am also very bad at editing. This is a terrible trait. And I write slooooowly.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I get very nervous about this as a mono-lingual person, because I don't want to end up turning actual languages into catchphrases? But I also want to reflect how our international blorbos speak. I do LOVE when authors make a point of saying someone is speaking in French etc vs English, even when it's translated for the reader, to make a point about intimacy.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

harry potter. scoured that from the internet a while ago

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I have an elaborate strollonso fic in me. Unfortunately I do have to write the 50k galex fic it's a sequel to first. And, uh, remember what I said about length being a weakness of mine?

What's your favourite fic you've written?

I did a five favourite fics ask a couple of months back, and it mostly holds true, but I think I have to add three's a crowd now, because it kind of snuck up on me as a concept, and I damn near hated it by the end of writing it, and then was embraced so kindly by readers I could actually look at it anew and remember why I wanted to write it. And that's quite precious.