#i’ll be fine I’m just going through it today

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader

“And you have all your meds.”

“Yes, Simon.”

“And Cami knows she’s on standby?”

“Yes. Simon, we’re fine.” You pat his bicep but he doesn’t release the hold he has on your shoulders. He can’t bring himself to.

“Maybe I should have started leave earlier.” Uncertainity plagues him, kept him teetering from one side of a fence to another all week. He doesn’t want to go, never wants to, but now, it’s different. It’s worse.

“No. I’m seven months. There’s still two left to go and I’m in perfect health. Nothing is going to happen, okay?” You’re trying so hard to reassure him, but it doesn’t help. You reach up and cup his face, thumb smoothing over his freshly shaved cheek. “Hey.”

“‘m fine.”

“You’re not.” He huffs, leans and presses his forehead against yours. “I’m going to be fine, Si. You’ll be back before you know it and I’ll still be miserable and pregnant.” You sigh, and pull away to burrow yourself in his chest, his stomach. He wishes he could keep you there. “Now make your promise.”

“I promise to be home soon.” He kisses your forehead. He says it every time, and it hasn’t failed him yet. Your face, your voice, the curves of your body in his hands carry him home every time. “I love you mama.”

“I love you too.”

“Ye’re on somethin’ else LT.” Johnny claps his palm over the wound above his eyebrow, trying to stem the bleeding. Simon grunts.

“Need to make quick work of this.” Price shoots him a look, but Simon ignores him. “Got a pregnant wife at home.” They don’t need the reminder.

“Ah know, ah know.” He has been on something else, this entire op. Has been speed running through objectives, speed running through bodies.

“Besides. Holidays comin’ up. Don’t want to be out here when Cami is turning the house into Christmas village.” Gaz winces.

“We’re taking a break tonight to regroup.” Price gives them all a pointed look, and Simon nods.

“Course.”

He can’t sleep.

Every time he closes his eyes he sees you face down in a pool of blood, Orion nowhere to be found, or worse. Dead in his bed. The visions meld with memories, cold sweat breaking out down his back.

He checks his phone. Nothing.

Why haven’t you called? 

You always call to check in. If his phone is off, you leave a voicemail. If it’s on, he answers. It’s a balm to his anxiety, his worry that’s always lurking in the back of his mind.

He’s not supposed to make outgoing calls this round, and he knows that, logically understands it, but he can’t stop clicking the phone icon next to your contact.

It doesn’t ring. Straight to voicemail.

He clears his throat. “Hey honey, wanted to check in. Haven’t heard from you today. I hope you’re resting and little man isn’t givin’ you too much of a rough time. Call me, I love you.”

It does nothing to gentle the fear that’s roaring in his ears now. He won’t sleep. Not tonight.

So he lumbers down the stairs to the kitchen for a tea, stopping short when he hears Laswell’s voice crackling through the speaker, her usually calm cadence turned rushed.

The floorboards creak beneath his feet, and John turns, face grim and full of dread. “Hold on.” John murmurs, and Kate grinds to a stop.

“What’s goin’ on?” An unnatural apprehension settles in his gut. A sixth sense.

“Simon.” John says. Just his name, and he knows. He feels it. His knees go weak, and it’s a struggle to remain upright.

“Where is she?”

[babygirlwritessmut]

♡︎ part7. hospitals and police reports

・❥・pairing: vi (arcane) x fem!reader

・❥・ summary: while Vi is in the hospital your dad reveals an unpleasant news

・❥・ genre: smut + kinda friends to lovers

・❥・ word count: 1.5k

✎ warnings: hospital, blood, swearing, mention of violence

WHEN I NEEDED YOU masterlist

the following hours were a blur. you remember your screams, the headlights of your dad's car, your mom holding you, the ambulance speeding, Vi's hand, which you held tightly all the way to the hospital, and so many doctors. you spent that night at the hospital, barely getting any sleep or having any strength left.

when the doctor finally came out to see you, the world stood still; you wanted to know what would happen to Vi, but at the same time, the news could be anything, which was terrifying.

“she's a fighter; that's something I can tell you for sure,” the doctor said, holding Vi's medical folder. “she’ll be staying here for a few days - I want to ensure there are no further risks to her health.”

“but she's okay, right?” you couldn’t hold back your worry.

“she’s already doing better; she's weak, but as I said, she’s a fighter,” the doctor said with steady calmness.

“could I see her, please?” you asked, looking her straight in the eye. the doctor hesitated a little, but seeing your concern, she gave a slight smile and nodded. you started thanking her and, for the first time in a while, you smiled.

“sweetie, we’ll wait for you here,” your mom said softly as you entered the room.

you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry. you needed to be strong for her - everything would be fine, and your composure would reassure her. worry and tears wouldn’t do her any good, so you gathered your courage and approached her bed. her body looked weak, and all the monitors around her seemed intimidating. her clothes, too, were unsettling to see, but you kept your reaction in check. the worst part was her face - you had thought it couldn’t be worse than when it was covered in blood, but no. the bruises, the stitched lip, and all the scrapes made it look like a waking nightmare.

“hi, Vi,” you said softly, taking her hand and sitting beside her. “how are you feeling?”

her head turned towards you, and a warm smile appeared on her face. “you look so beautiful, cupcake”

her words caught you off guard; Vi had just gone through one of the most traumatic nights of her life, and the first thing she did was compliment you. “thank you,” you murmured, a bit uncertainly. “but seriously, how are you?”

“like I've been beaten up,” she replied with a small grin, but she stopped immediately to avoid reopening her stitches.

after a pause, you both laughed again. “are you always this funny?” you squeezed her hand tighter. “no matter how bad the joke, I’m glad you still have the energy for it”

you talked for about fifteen minutes until the doctor returned to let you know it was time to go. you didn’t want to let go of her hand, but you had to, so with all the gentleness and care, you kissed her softly on the lips and said goodbye, promising to be back in the morning.

your parents were already waiting for you, and you walked to the car together. the ride was silent; your thoughts were still with Vi in the hospital. all you wanted was to sleep and make the morning come faster so you could see her again.

as the car approached home, your dad spoke up. “I know it’s been a hard night, but I’d like to talk to you”

“alright, daddy, I’ll change and come down to you.”

you quickly took a shower and put on your pajamas, carefully folding your jacket and giving it a kiss, as if Vi could somehow feel it. you felt partly responsible for what had happened today, but you brushed those thoughts aside and headed downstairs.

your dad was already waiting for you on the couch, and your mom stood by the window - she always did when she was anxious, so you knew something was wrong.

“please, take a seat, sweetheart,” your dad gestured to the spot beside him.

“what’s going on? did the doctors say something?” your heart was pounding. “please tell me Vi is okay”

“Vi’s fine; this isn’t about her health right now,” your dad reassured you, glancing at your mom as if he wanted her to continue, but she only nodded.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through this, sweetie. I still can’t believe Troy could do something like that,” your dad said, and you cringed at the mention of his name. you realized you hadn’t even thought about him until now; the last thing you remembered was him lying somewhere on the ground, whining in pain.

“I know what I’m about to tell you won’t be easy to take in, but I need you to stay calm” your dad took your hand, and your face must have shown utter confusion.

“so, Troy’s father has filed a police report,” your eyebrows shot up. “he claims that Vi lured him to the parking lot and assaulted him. I won’t go into details, but the gist is that you cheated on him with Vi, and when Troy wanted to confront you, he got beaten up instead” your dad explained, but there was a ringing in your ears.

“what the hell is that? that’s a complete load of shit!” you shouted, barely registering the words coming out of your mouth.

“sweetheart, that’s not exactly what I meant by ‘stay calm,’” your dad said, clearly displeased with your choice of words, but you didn’t care.

finally, your mom joined the conversation. “your father and I won’t let Troy slander your name, so I want you to tell us everything from the beginning. start with Troy’s party,” she said. when it came to family, your mom never joked. it was one of the reasons you trusted them so much; you knew you were safe.

you talked for another hour, recounting every detail, even the small ones. your dad never took his eyes off you and listened intently. you noticed his jaw clench when you described how Troy had shoved you. when you finished, the room was completely silent, and sadness crept over you, like reliving it all over again.

“daddy, thank you for getting there so quickly. I know I didn’t get a chance to say this earlier, but…” you started crying. “but I was so scared. I’ve never seen anything like that in my life. I’m so lucky to have you” you threw yourself into your father’s arms and felt like a little girl again. no matter how old you get, you always feel like a child with them.

“my precious daughter, you’re the most important thing we have, and I’ll never let anyone hurt you. I promise you, Troy and his father will regret this,” he said, hugging you tighter, and you exhaled deeply.

the next three days passed in the same routine: mornings at the hospital with Vi, then college, and back to the hospital. you spent a lot of time with her, and the doctors said she was recovering well and might go home tomorrow, which had you over the moon with happiness.

in the morning, you woke up, and your dad insisted you pick Vi up together. you hadn’t planned on introducing them under these circumstances, but it was how things turned out. when you arrived, Vi had already packed her things, and the doctor was giving her final instructions. after the doctor left, wishing Vi a speedy recovery, you hugged her, causing Vi to yelp in pain, and you quickly pulled back.

“sorry, I’m just so happy to see you… well...” you hesitated over the words.

“alive?” she laughed, and you rolled your eyes.

finally, your dad approached Vi and said, “glad to see you’re doing better”

“yes, thank you for helping me. I wish we could’ve met under different circumstances,” Vi smiled warmly at him.

“I couldn’t agree more,” your dad nodded. “I’m grateful to you, too, Vi. thank you for protecting my girl when I couldn’t be there. thank you for being there when she needed you." he said this sincerely, and they shook hands.

“I’m sure you’re aware that Troy’s father has pressed charges,” your dad continued, and Vi simply nodded. “I want to assure you that I’m handling this situation personally. I can see how much you mean to my daughter, and this is my way of thanking you, Vi” he smiled, and you felt tears of joy welling up. seeing the most important people in your life stand up for the one you fell in love with was an incredible feeling.

[willowsnook]

Oblivious

hi hi hi!!! can I request pulled pork with bell peppers and wheat bread please??? thank youuuu! I adore your writing, and I hope you’re having a good week!!! <333

Charles leclerc x bsf!reader

I’d be insane not to love you

It was a gorgeous day in Belgium, and you were hanging out with your group of friends in Ferrari’s hospitality area.

“I’m bored; can we go walk around outside?” you asked Arthur, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. He chuckled and held out a hand to pull you up. Together, you walked down to the paddock, breathing in the summer air and the lively atmosphere.

“Arthur!” a voice called from behind you. You turned to see an unfamiliar face waving at your friend—a guy with a youthful charm and a sun-kissed complexion that matched his dark hair. He was grinning, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he looked at you as if he already knew you.

“What’s up, man?” Arthur said, pulling the guy into a hug. “Have you met Y/N?”

The guy shook his head and extended his hand. “I’m Gabriel.”

“Nice to meet you,” you replied with a smile, and his gaze lingered on you for a beat longer, like he was connecting some dots.

“You’re Charles’s friend, right?” he asked. You nodded, and he laughed. “Yeah, he told me to stay away from you.”

Arthur laughed, but you blinked in surprise. “He told you to stay away from me?”

Gabriel flashed a cheeky grin. “Probably afraid I’d sweep you off your feet.”

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. “Why would he care?”

Gabriel shot Arthur an amused look, as if they knew something you didn’t.

Back at the garage, you couldn’t stop replaying the conversation, even as Charles caught up with you. “Are you okay?” he asked, scanning you with concerned eyes. “Did you get something to eat? Water?”

“Yes, Charlie, I’m fine,” you giggled, and he relaxed a bit.

“Are you staying down here or going up to the club?” he asked.

“Maybe upstairs with everyone else,” you replied.

A slight frown appeared on his face. “Unless... maybe stay down here? It’s more interesting down here, ya know?”

“Okay I’ll stay down here,” you agreed and he smiled. “I met someone new today.”

“Oh yeah, who?” He asked.

“Gabriel Bortoleto,” you replied and you watched him look away instantly, cheeks reddening. “And he said the funniest thing.” 

“He’s a funny guy,” Charles mumbled and you smirked. 

“Hilarious, especially the joke about how you told him to stay away from me,” you drawled out and Charles was looking anywhere but at you.

Before he could answer, Bryan called for him, and Charles looked relieved to escape the conversation. “Gotta go! And don’t wander, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I mean it, mon cheri,” he said, giving you a quick hug before heading off.

Rebecca was already sitting by the screens, so you joined her, and the older woman gave you a wide smile. 

“Watching from down here today?” She asked and you nodded, fiddling with the headset. 

“Charles insisted,” you replied, and she smirked. You told her about the incident with Gabriel and she just laughed, shaking her head. 

“When are you going to realize that Charles is in love with you?” she asked playfully.

You laughed. “He’s not in love with me. I’m just his best friend.”

“You’re the only best friend down here, though,” she commented, but you brushed it off.

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

Summer break meant one thing: Charles bothering you nonstop to hang out. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around your 9-to-5, which is why you were now on a walking lunch with him, walking Leo through a nearby park.

“You should just quit your job,” Charles said for the millionth time.

“I need money, Charlie,” you reminded him as Leo sniffed the grass. “Not all of us get paid millions for working weekends.”

He ignored your comment. “Let me fund your lifestyle.”

“And be what—your maid?” you joked, rolling your eyes. “You’re asking me to be a stay-at-home wife without marrying me.”

He muttered something under his breath, and you looked at him. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, tugging Leo along.

You sighed. “I like my job, Charles.”

“I know. I just don’t like that I can’t see you whenever I want.”

“We see each other all the time.” 

“It’s not enough,” he mumbled and you grabbed his hand, forcing him to look at you. 

“You are my best friend Charles,” you told him. “It doesn’t matter if I see you everyday or just once a week, nothing is going to change that.” 

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

That night you were at the Leclerc’s family home, as they had invited you over for dinner along with the boys. After dinner, you, Charles, and Arthur stayed up drinking and while you paced yourself, Charles did not. 

You knew he was drunk because he had been so physically affectionate for the past hour. It started with him moving his arm behind you while you guys were seated on the back patio. Then, he ran his hand up and down your thigh. Now his head was lying in your lap, and you absentmindedly massaged your fingers through his hair.

You were telling Arthur about your latest work project when Charles chimed in. 

“I told her to just quit her job,” he complained to Arthur.

Arthur smirked. “And be your stay-at-home wife?”

“That’s what she said—and that I’d have to marry her,” he grumbled, as if you weren’t right there. “Which was already my plan.”

Arthur’s eyebrows shot up, and you froze. Charles hadn’t said anything like this before. But he was drunk. Just drunk thoughts... right?

“You know she can hear you Charles,” his brother said nervously. 

“It doesn’t matter, I could kiss her on the lips right now, and she’d probably just write it off as something ‘best friends do.”

Arthur didn’t say anything; you just sat there, mind-reeling. Your hand was frozen, and Charles reached up to grab it so that you could keep massaging his head. Arthur said goodnight to you, and you stayed out contemplating what had just happened. The Gabriel thing made sense to you now, but he had never said anything before. These were probably just drunk thoughts. Yeah, that made the most sense. 

“I’m tired,” Charles said, looking up at you. “Will you stay the night?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you said softly, and he frowned. 

“Why? You always do,” he pushed back. 

“I just want to go home,” you whispered, moving off the couch after he sat up. Avoiding his stare, you grabbed your keys and headed towards the door. He called after you, but you kept walking; you just needed to breathe. You were supposed to leave with Charles tomorrow to fly to Spain to see Rebecca and Carlos, but now you were very stressed. 

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

The next morning, Charles acted like nothing had happened, which was somehow both comforting and frustrating. You both fell into your usual traveling routine, playing cards and chess to distract him on the flight to Spain, where Rebecca and Carlos were waiting at a coastal villa.

As you toured the villa, Rebecca shared a bit of news with a smirk. “There’s only two bedrooms.”

Your heart skipped, but Charles simply shrugged. “No problem. We’ve shared a room before.”

Smiling weakly you agreed and followed him to put the luggage away. 

“I’m going to change into my swim shorts and go down to the beach,” Charles told you as you unpacked your suitcase. 

“That’s a good idea, I’ll do the same.” 

You heard him go into the bathroom to change so you decided to change in the main room. Pulling out your favorite black bikini, you slipped the bottoms on but were struggling to tie it behind your back when you heard the bathroom door open. 

“Can you help me?” You called out to Charles and you heard him walking towards you. He didn’t say anything, and you felt his fingers brush against your bare back as he tied the strings. Turning around to thank him, the words caught in your throat when you saw the look on his face. He was flushed, his pupils blown wide as he glanced up and down at you, wearing basically nothing in front of him. 

“Thank you Charlie,” you whispered softly and he swallowed before murmuring a response. 

Thinking about what he had said last night, you felt the tension between the two of you even as you walked down to the beach. Charles went to join Carlos in the water, and you plopped down next to Rebecca. 

Filling her in on what happened last night she smiled knowingly at you.

“He basically confessed he’s in love with you, and here you are, making excuses.”

“He was drunk!”

“Oh my god,” she said laughing. “He was right, he literally could kiss you and you wouldn’t believe it. I just don’t understand.”

“I don’t know,” you said sighing. “I guess it’s insecurity; he lives in this world of glamour and flashing lights full of influencers and celebrities. I’m just me, a normal girl who has a normal job and a normal past.”

Rebecca squeezed your hand. “Have you ever thought maybe he likes you because of that? That maybe you make him feel like he can just be himself when he’s with you and not Charles Leclerc the Ferrari golden boy?”

“I guess,” you said thoughtfully. You had never really looked at your friendship with Charles that way, but it made sense. While yes Charles invited you to races and fancy trips with him, you often spent time doing mundane things together, like walking Leo or getting groceries. When you really thought about it, you realized that those were your favorite moments. You would take cooking dinner together on a random Monday night anytime over accompanying him to an event. 

Fuck, you were in love with your best friend and it scared the hell out of you. 

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

The next day, you avoided Charles at all costs, which was pretty difficult considering you were basically on a couples vacation. It also was incredibly noticeable how you insisted that Rebecca be your partner for everything and wanted to just have girl time in the afternoon. 

She didn’t bring him up, but she knew you were waging an internal war with yourself, so all she could do was be there if you wanted to talk it through. Your feelings were still at the forefront of your mind when dinner rolled around, and you were much quieter than usual. It was like Rebecca and Carlos were out for dinner because they were the only ones talking. You were eating silently, and Charles was just staring at you. 

Fed up with the situation, Carlos stood up, pushing his chair back, “I think I would like to spend some quality time with my girlfriend, so goodnight you too.” 

Rebecca smirked at her boyfriend, knowing he was impatient with the dance you and Charles were doing around each other, and got up to follow him. Gathering the plates, you walked back into the kitchen, and Charles followed you, helping dry as you washed the dishes. 

You were about to turn to go upstairs when he gently grabbed your elbow, causing you to look at him, “Can we take a walk? Please?”

Those dark blue eyes looked at you with such a pleading gaze that you nodded. 

Slipping off your shoes, you followed him down to the beach, and the walk was silent for a bit as you stuck in your head. 

“Mon cheri, please tell me what’s wrong,” Charles said, breaking the silence to look at you. He had stopped walking, and you turned to him, eyes already filling up with tears. 

“Tell me what to do to fix this,” he begged, and you felt like all your emotions were going to burst like a volcano. 

“I’m in love with you Charles!” You yelled, surprising even yourself. Charles’ eyes widened and a grin broke out on his face. 

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to wipe a stray tear from your cheek. His touch was gentle, almost skittish as if he were afraid you might disappear if he moved too quickly. You felt a shiver run through you, not from the cool evening air but from the intensity of his gaze.

“Then why are you crying?” he asked softly, his voice filled with a warmth you’d only dared to imagine. You took a shaky breath, trying to gather the courage to say everything that had been locked in your heart.

“Because… because I’m afraid. Afraid of losing what we have, of things changing, of you finding someone who actually fits into your world,” you whispered, your eyes cast down.

Charles cupped your face gently, tilting it up so you had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Mon chéri, I don’t want anyone else. I don’t care about the parties, or the cameras, or the lights. When I’m with you, I can just be Charles. Not the driver, not the celebrity—just… me. I'd be insane not to love you,” he murmured, his voice filled with a sincerity that made your heart swell.

Before you could fully process his words, his lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, testing. But as you melted into him, all your worries slipped away, replaced by the overwhelming warmth of his kiss. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let you go.

When he pulled back, you could see the hint of a smile on his face, soft and full of promise. “I love you,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

"I love you too, Charlie."

[jennamoran]

Tonight's Hitherby: "In a World Rapidly Turning to Cards"

I was too busy thinking about Nobilis to do another voiced thing today. So instead I'll repost a story I wrote back in 2004, and link you to a voiced version by Xavid, who's done readings of a bunch of these.

Dame Mathilda rides.

She is a bold knight, Dame Mathilda, born into a time of legends. She wears shining steel mail. She wields a bright sword. It’s long and it’s sharp. The hilt bears a lady’s favor. Its balance is fine, and the Pope blest its blade.

Dame Mathilda rides to rescue a princess. That princess has been kidnapped by a manticore. Dame Mathilda considers this typical, which should explain a great deal about her life and her situation.

Mathilda dismounts by the manticore’s lair. It’s a cave adjoining a grassy field. She brushes back her horse’s mane. “Stay well, Morningshine,” she says. “If things go poorly, I’ll need your swift feet.”

The horse whickers. “I plan to stay well,” he informs her. “I do not want a manticore to eat me.”

“That’s good,” she says. “Also …”

“I will not get stuck in a tree again,” Morningshine drones. “Or wander off a cliff. And that wardrobe experience — I shall not repeat it.”

“Good,” Mathilda says. She pats his nose. “Then I go.”

She enters the manticore’s lair. From within, the sounds of battle rage. Then comes a shout: “Flawless victory!”

Mathilda emerges. Her sword drips with blood. She carries a previously-stolen princess slung over her shoulder. She looks for Morningshine. Morningshine is not there.

Carefully, Mathilda reviews the situation. She looks up. Morningshine is not stuck in a tree. She looks down. Morningshine has not fallen into a pit. She looks around. She sees a squirrel. The squirrel looks innocent. Mathilda concludes that the squirrel did not steal her horse.

“Can I put you down for a moment?” Mathilda asks the princess.

“Of course,” the princess says, haughtily.

Mathilda does so. “Don’t wander off,” she says.

“I wouldn’t wander off,” the princess sniffs.

“You wandered off and a manticore kidnapped you,” Mathilda points out.

“That was not wandering,” the princess insists. “It was peregrination.”

“Before that, a chimera; and before that, an evil duke; and the time before that, I believe it was some jelly.”

“The jelly did not kidnap me,” the princess argues. “It was more that its tart, crisp flavor kept me enchanted.”

“Nevertheless,” Mathilda says. “Please stay put.”

Mathilda ranges through the field. She looks under every stone. She studies the clouds. She walks beyond the field and into the woods. She scours the earth. In frustration, she summons forth the dryad of the trees.

“Hello!” the dryad says.

“Hi,” Mathilda agrees.

“I’m a dryad!” the dryad explains.

“Have you seen a horse?”

“Horses go da-da-dun da-da-dun da-da-dun when they run,” the dryad says.

“Yes,” Mathilda agrees. “They do.”

“Da-da-dun, da-da-dun, da-da-dun, da-da-flutter.”

“It’s a canter,” Mathilda says.

“They can’t?”

Mathilda catches a glimpse of white out of the corner of the eye. It is high in a tree. She hands her sword to the dryad. “Please hold this,” she says.

“Okay!”

“And stay here.”

“I’ll stay here!”

Mathilda climbs the tree. She takes the white thing down from its branches. It’s a card. The card is white. The card is crisp. The card is clean. Its black letters say MORNINGSHINE.

“I cannot but think,” says Dame Mathilda, dropping lithely to the ground, “that Morningshine has transformed into a card; and this somewhat tops his normal straying tendencies.”

The card nickers apologetically.

“Well,” Mathilda says, philosophically, “at least you are portable.” She tucks her horse away in her pocket and goes to collect the princess.

A dragon flutters down into the meadow. Its neck is long. Its eyes are bright. Its wings are powerful.

“I am having a complicated day,” Mathilda explains.

“You are a knight,” the dragon says. “I am a dragon. This is not complicated.”

“This much is true,” Mathilda says. “But I just rescued the princess from a manticore, and it is traditional to return her to the castle before she is captured again.”

“I don’t see a princess,” the dragon says, puzzledly. “I had thought this was an essentially coincidental encounter.”

Mathilda frowns. She looks around the field. The dragon, curious, follows suit. Finally, the dragon spots a card.

“PRINCESS,” the dragon reads, holding the card up. It cocks its head sideways. It stares at Mathilda. “This is very low-budget, Dame.”

“It’s not my fault,” Mathilda protests. “She was a real princess when I left.”

The dragon thinks. “Well, are you willing to fight to win her back?”

“I suppose,” Mathilda sulks. “Let me go collect my sword.”

“Of course,” the dragon agrees.

A few minutes pass.

“Don’t get lost!” the dragon cries into the trees.

A few more minutes pass.

Mathilda stalks back. She holds the SWORD card in her hand. It is short and flat. It has the word “Sword” on it. It is blest by the Pope.

“Ha!” the dragon laughs. The dragon exhales the FLAME card. The card falls out of its mouth and sizzles on the ground. The dragon frowns.

“I am unsure,” Mathilda says, “which of us has the advantage under the current circumstances.”

They move towards one another; and begin the dance of knight and dragon; and finally retreat, one from the other, to sit panting on the ground. Mathilda clutches her ARMOR card close to her slip. The dragon looks with grave disapproval at the CLAW, FANG, and SCALES cards scattered across the grass.

Mathilda finally says what both of them are thinking.

“I don’t want to fight any more.”

“Hm,” the dragon agrees.

“It’s too bad that we pretty much have to finish the fight,” Mathilda notes. “For honor, I mean.”

“Ack!” the dragon cries, and rolls over. “I am slain! I am slain!” It flops, limp.

“Flawless victory!” Mathilda shouts.

Mathilda stalks off. After a bit, the dragon gets up and slinks after her. When she hears its footfall, deep in the woods, Mathilda turns.

“Why are you following me?”

“Humans are clever,” the dragon says. “I figure you’ll find a way to turn the cards back. Then I’ll have tooth and claw and flame again.”

“Go away,” she says. “We’re deadly enemies.”

“I’ve never really done anything to you,” the dragon points out.

Mathilda scratches her forehead. “It’s still how things are done.”

“No,” the dragon says. “‘How things are done’ has you killing me, or me killing you. Then you raise your sword in triumph, or I lick myself clean, gleam magnificently in the sun, and crack open your armor to eat your tasty corpse.”

“I can still kill you,” Mathilda says.

“No,” the dragon says, practically. “You can’t. You don’t know how.”

“I …”

Mathilda frowns.

“You don’t, do you?”

“I have a SWORD card!” Mathilda shouts. Then she sits down and sulks, holding a small deck of cards close to her heart. After a while, she leans back against a tree. After another while, she falls over on top of the TREE card.

“I don’t really want to kill you,” Dame Mathilda admits.

The dragon examines the DRAMATIC CONVENTIONS card. “Oh,” it says. “I’m glad. You seem pretty cool, for a knight.”

Mathilda raises an eyebrow. “You haven’t seen my best side.”

“I know,” the dragon admits. “I had to take that into account.”

“Okay,” Mathilda says. “As long as you understand.”

“It’s getting faster,” the dragon says.

“How can you tell?”

The dragon hops. “Less gravity.”

“Ah.” Mathilda thinks. She reviews the rules by which her life has functioned. “Is there any obvious way to overcome this situation through the power of friendship, understanding, and facing our inner demons?”

The dragon squinches up its face and clenches its sinuous body, trying to face its inner demons. This fails.

“I don’t think so,” the dragon says. “However, I will happily be your friend.”

“Good,” Mathilda says.

There’s a silence.

Mathilda sits up. She looks over. She stands up. She walks over. She picks up the DRAGON card. It is warm in her hand. She walks into the silence, and two years pass.

“Hi!”

Mathilda looks up sharply. It’s the first voice she’s heard in years.

“Who are you?” she says.

It’s a young woman. She’s fair and tall. Her eyes are deepest blue. “I’m Willow,” she says. “I’m the unmaker.”

“Hey.” Mathilda hesitates, and then permits herself to utter a small complaint. “Everything’s turned into cards.”

“Yes,” Willow says. “Everything everywhere but you. That’s why I had to come find you.”

“Why?” Mathilda asks.

“I looked at the world,” Willow says, “and decided that it would be better that way. But you won’t turn into a card.”

Willow reaches out. She touches Mathilda’s nose. Mathilda does not turn into a card. “See?”

“I see,” Mathilda says gravely.

“It’s efficacious enough,” Willow says. “I mean, everywhere else.”

Mathilda tilts her head to one side. Then she says, with gentle sympathy, “You need help, don’t you.”

Willow’s eyes mist over with confusion. “Why would you say that?”

Mathilda shrugs.

“Don’t,” Willow says, sharply. “I’m your enemy. I’ve killed everything. See?”

Willow holds up the EVERYTHING BUT YOU AND ME card.

“Yes,” Mathilda agrees. “But you’re a damsel in distress.”

Willow’s eyes burn. Then she turns away. “You can’t care,” she says. “You’re a paper tiger. You’re a pattern knight. You don’t know how to rescue anybody. If you did, people wouldn’t be CARDS.”

“I used to rely on my sword,” Mathilda says. “I used to rely on my sword, and my armor, and the presence of dragons.”

“Right,” Willow snaps.

“But that’s not what it’s about,” Mathilda says. “Striving for the right. It’s not about the forms.”

Willow sits down on the nothingness. She shrugs angrily.

“It’s not about the forms,” Mathilda says. “It’s about helping people who are hurt.”

“But I’m your enemy,” Willow protests, again.

“You’re also the second-to-last damsel in distress in all the world,” Mathilda says. “So I’ll have to let that pass.”

Willow looks down. There’s nothing beneath her feet. Just the endless hungry void.

[lesbojournals]

Hiyaa! <33 i was wondering if you could do an actor!reader x poly!maraduers. Just fascinated by the film, they were the main character in, always complimenting how good they are, lots of kisses and praising, and ofc lots of fluff

Poly!Marauders x Actress!Reader

a/n: i hope this kinda meets what you were looking for-it kinda has a spicy ending but it's not smut!

“Are you sure I look okay?”

You straighten out Sirius’ tie and brush lint of his shoulders. “You look fine Siri. It’s just a red carpet, it won’t even be that long.”

He huffs and turns away from you to face Remus, who was tying James’ tie for him. 

“Just a red carpet she says,” Sirius laments. “Rem, do I look okay?”

You and Remus sigh in unison. He doesn’t look up from where he’s adjusting James’ tie, but James looks over at Sirius with an arched brow.

“If Y/N said you look fine, I’m sure you look fantastic love.” Remus said, giving James’ chest a pat when he finished with the tie. 

Sirius rolled his eyes and started to pace around the apartment. 

James shrugged his suit jacket on. “Babe, you look great. It’ll be alright.” 

He raised his hands in defense. “Alright, alright! If you all insist.”

You peaked out the window, seeing headlights shine through. “Limo’s here.”

You all piled into the limo, Remus chastising James to be careful of your dress as you stepped in. Sirius’ leg bounced up and down, and you rested your hand on it. He looked at you, and if it weren’t for his bouncing leg, most wouldn’t be able to guess how worried Sirius truly was. 

“It’s gonna be a lot of flashing lights,” You warned. “But it’s quick. We walk, we stop for pictures, then we go inside. No interviews today. Then we just sit, relax, and watch the movie. There might be an after party afterwards, but we don’t have to go if you aren’t feeling up to it Siri.”

Sirius nodded, deep in thought. “I’ll be okay. Just nervous to be introduced to your world, is all.”

You gave him a small smile. “Well if it’s any consolation, you look amazing.”

“And you two,” You added. “My handsome boys.”

Before they could respond you felt the limo come to a halt, and the driver announced to the four of you that you had arrived. 

You looked at Sirius. “Just hold my hand–I’ll guide you through it.”

Sirius nodded, not exactly making eye contact. 

Your faces were illuminated by bright lights as you exited the limo, and you smiled brightly at the cameras. Your last name was called out loud by various photographers, and you led the boys along to stop and smile, before moving along to stop and smile again, and again, and again.

You gave Sirius’ hand squeezes as you walked through, and as you entered the theater you whispered to him. “You did great, handsome.”

He smiled at you, and an usher led you along to where the four of you would be sat. 

“Shouldn’t you be the nervous one?” Sirius questioned, going into the aisle first so you could sit in between him and James. 

“Me?” You asked. “Oh, I’m nervous as anything.”

“You don’t look it.” James said, amused. 

Remus smiled and shook his head as he reached across to have his arm around James’ shoulder. “Are you lads forgetting? She’s an actress.”

James pursed his lips and nodded, cheeks turning a shade of pink in embarrassment. 

You patted his leg in comfort, and the lights began to dim. 

“Movie’s about to start.” You whispered. 

Sirius reached for your hand. “You’re going to be great.” 

You took pride in your work on the screen, you really did. You loved your career as an actress and you were excited to bring your boys to see the latest project you were starring in. It was practically a thrill for you, because you knew how much your boys wanted to see your work. This movie, however, was one of the first times you felt confident and passionate enough to show it off–even without having seen the finished project. 

As the movie came to a close you hesitated to look at your boyfriends, but it was kind of difficult as many in the audience were standing and turning to look at you.

You were nearly in shock at the response, and it was James who whispered in your ear. 

“I think you’re supposed to stand up, darling.” 

Immediately you rose to your feet, tears in your eyes as you waved and thanked the many people who were applauding you. You gestured to your costar, not too far down the row from you, who gave you a large smile and kept applauding–for you. 

The rush of the applause and getting back into the limo home was a blur, and you looked at your boyfriends with wide eyes. 

“So?” You asked.

Sirius laughed audibly. “So? So!!? You’re amazing, dollface!”

Remus and James spoke over each other next, a mix of astonishment and pride. Remus leaned over from where he was sitting in the limo and began to shower your face in kisses, and in between proclaiming:

“I”

Kiss.

“Am.”

Another kiss.

“So.”

Smooch.

“Proud.”

Kiss again.

“Of.”

A kiss on your forehead.

“You.” 

He leaned in for a more passionate kiss, and you giggled at the lipstick that was smeared across his own lips.

You giggled at it, and he only smiled in response. 

“Hey,” James whined. “You’re not the only one that gets to give her kisses. ‘S’not fair.”

“Fine then,” Remus leaned back, and James nearly leaped at the opportunity to throw himself on you. 

He slowly kissed your neck, one hand behind your head as the other moved its way around your body. He eventually brought his lips to yours, eliciting a few moans from you as Sirius squeezed himself next to you to give your neck open mouth kisses. Remus watched with a satisfied smirk, wiping the lipstick off his face with the back of his hand. 

As you broke from the kiss with James, you looked at him with big eyes. 

“What’s this for?” You whispered to him.

He smiled, and you could feel his hand go under your dress. “Consider it a job well done.”

[persicipen]

₊ ˙ ⊹ . 𝓛𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒐. GACHIAKUTA ノ ENJIN ₊ ˙ ⊹ .

ৎ୭ — · · 0.9k ノ gn reader — established relationship . bantering ノ sweet fluff with a pinch of worry ノ mentioned smoking . reader dislikes the smell of cigarettes ノreader is shorter than enjin and called a sweetheart by him ノ yay first time writing for a new series, i hope it will turn out nice! ₊ ˙ ⊹ .

With a day as fine as today, there’s little to nothing that could worsen your mood. The usual work, one could say, but to you, such days mean that everything is going alright. No sudden warnings, no calls for missions, no errands, no unexpected visitors — nothing at all except the peaceful afternoon at the headquarters.

Well, it’s what you hoped for, if not for the pest that circles your personal space, a fly preparing to sit down on food, while you’re busy putting the files on the shelves because apparently no one else wanted to help Semiu with the boring tasks.

The pest mentioned, a handsome specimen with ruffled blond mane and just as strikingly yellow eyes — your boyfriend, what you have to admit to yourself with a heavy heart — follows your every move, not even paying attention to the work you busy yourself with. And still, once you huff in annoyance and finally look back at him after he pokes your side, there’s nothing but pure admiration in his expression.

“Off! Off of me!” You complain, almost a squeak of discomfort, when this large bulk of a man slops down his weight on your shoulders, and you immediately sense the stuffy, sharp smell of cigarettes. “You stink! Were you smoking again?!”

“Just came back from a break. Where’s my kiss?” The pout in his voice makes your ears wither and your eyes roll at the theatrics of his pleading gaze. Two golden orbs staring at you with the sweetness of a small child, as if it’s not a man who towers over you and is probably twice as wide, especially in that baggy outfit.

“As if you would get any smelling like that!”

“Pretty please?” He makes a childish whine and lifts you off the ground, leaving your feet to dangle, forcing you to wrap your arms around his neck or risk falling face first. That piercing scent of cigarettes now hovers around your face and makes you sneeze.

“No chance!”

It’s the softness hidden somewhere beneath the layers of his coarse, sand-grated clothes, a gentleness of his bony arms that overlap your midriff. Dealing with the strong nicotine smell, your nose still scrunched and burning from the inside, but you bite any further comments back just to enjoy the short embrace. An unspoken confession, honesty spilling through the hesitant gesture, that he will miss you.

“You know I’m leaving soon. A goodbye kiss is a lucky charm.”

Sure, a few days of separation is nothing. A good heated argument could make you avoid each other for longer; that much is true. That much used to be true.

According to overheard discussions, the missions turn more and more dangerous, the stakes higher, and finally on a trail for something more meaningful than a horde of wild trash beasts. But nobody has yet explained to you what is so valuable, like suddenly someone sewed their mouths shut. The most you can guess is that it’s a discovery, a hunch, of great importance leading up to find out more about the truth, whatever it may be.

The whole team is going without you this time — cursed be the meetings that got scheduled for you by the boss himself — and they can’t help but worry about whether they’ll be coming back on time.

“I’ll miss you…” You sigh as you allow Enjin’s hug to settle, with your feet solid against the floor once more.

“Just a little kiss, please? Doesn’t have to be on mouth.”

You tilt your head and rise on tiptoe just slightly, planting a delicate peck on his face, exactly where a dimple forms as he smiles at the tiny reward. His cheekbone brushes against your own, and then there’s no distance between you when you press closer into him, still able to recognise a faint note of the shampoo he used a day before.

“Promise me to stay safe?”

“I will.” Enjin sighs.

“Promise me you’ll come back alive?”

“Why the sudden worry, sweetheart? A second ago, you wanted me out of the door.” He gives you a lopsided grin, looking absolutely charming with the half-baked expression that’s on the verge of slipping off and morphing into something far more serious.

“I’m not messing around, you idiot. I want you to promise me!”

No wonder it gets him every time, that damn cute frown of yours whilst you glare at him. He immediately ducks down for a kiss, like an apology of sorts.

“What a nuisance you are, forcing me to steal a peck from your lips all by myself.”

With the time running out, it’s only wise to accept the kiss as if it’s medicine that brings you some measure of comfort. Otherwise, you would be left with nothing but a longing in your heart and an empty pillow on the other side of the bed for the next few nights.

Right after moving away from your lips, he adds with an arrogant grin, “you know I always come back, don’t you?”

There is a break for a short cough, be it from the mess that are his emotions, still getting him flustered to admit it out loud, or the tickling of the smoke in his throat, or both.

“You’re the one who promised to always be there when I’m back.”

₊ ˙ ⊹ . AUTHOR’S NOTE — obviously, i was writing it with a certain friend in mind, but i don’t want to pressure anyone to read it lol but it just feels nice interacting with others when you read something ( ≽⩊≼ ) i just hope my skills are not awful but rather enjoyable when attempting to write something entirely new :’3

[noneedforbloodpressure]

Can allistics make sense please why is it rude to play up your body language to broadcast that you’re uncomfortable bc it’s too loud but at the same time asking calmly if they wouldn’t mind being a little quieter is met with the same vitriol as if you’d screamed at them to shut up. Can’t leave the room unannounced to take a break (that’s rude), can’t ask to step out for a minute to take a break (that’s also rude). You have to smile and take it and smile and take it and God Forbid you show any emotion except placid contentment (not even joy; your joy is unpalatable to them) or else you are Ruining Everything for Everyone. Any expression of your needs or boundaries is an inherent act of aggression because deep down the allistic world has never moved past the idea that autistics are fairy children disguised to look human. To them you are a monster; it is in your nature. You’d butcher yourself into pieces and let everyone pick their choice cut if you thought it would help. Its not enough. It’s never enough. You look in the mirror and wonder when all the things you’d liked about yourself made you see a monster too.

[officialgleamstar]

Good morning (in a tone that is implying that I want to end it)

[mars-ipan]

it is so nuts trying to have a healthy relationship with food when your sibling is trying to be a gym bro

[camgoloud]

today. i have experienced the HORRORS (opened laptop for morning meeting while seated between boss and coworker; was greeted with ao3 page i forgot to close last night)

[rosicheeks]

You could post cute pics and get validation from strangers on the internet while you wait.

Fr tho I hope you're doing okay ❤️

What do you think I’ve been doing 😂😘

[pepprs]

crying again lol ok

[fingertipsmp3]

Does anyone else just like… not give a fuck if they’re chopping vegetables evenly

[anoddopal]

Those morbid moments when Bun curls up in D.oc Q’s coat and traumadumps to him. ❤️‍🩹

[shoveitevil]

four days

[l-cereta]

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