#keep an eye out for the first one which will be posted later today!

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Recount Your Kids, Batman

[A loose continuation to this post]

Talia doesn't visit the Wayne manor. At least not regularly nor officially. All the batkids and Batman know she comes sometimes, just to check up on Damian and maybe bother Bruce from time to time, but this is the first time she has ever shown up to a dinner.

And, as they all take their seats, she gives Damian a long curios glance. Then, she looks to Bruce.

"Is that everyone?" She asks, easy and lighthearted. One might think she is simply not acquainted with the number of Wayne children or that she is teasing Bruce on the sheer amount of them. But Damian is looking down to his plate, and Tim knows for sure Talia keeps up with Wayne's head count, and Dick is fairly certain Talia would never tease Bruce, at least not so subtly.

It could have been some sort of a hint at Jason. If he was not here, that is. But he is, for once, so this is really all the family at one table.

"Yes?" Dick tries, looking around the table just to make sure. Steph and Babs are not here today, but that's definitely not what Talia could have meant. Bruce also looks just a little confused, which is a nice change of pace since he looked guarded and on edge from the very moment Talia showed up.

The woman hums, her eyes studying Damian. The youngest bat keeps his gaze down on his empty plate. No one really understands what's going on, but they all feel like there's something important and heavy hanging in the air.

Then, Talia stands up and turns to Alfred, "We will be dining later. It has come to my attention that kids are a lot more secretive than I thought," she explains cryptically and smiles at Bruce, "Beloved, will you come with me to the training grounds? I have something to show you."

Bruce doesn't move for a long moment, and Talia's smile becomes almost gentle, "It's about your son."

At least that makes the man move.

When they get down to the Cave - since Talia insisted this was not a matter that could be resolved in the manor's training room - it's not only her, Bruce, and the little bat there, of course. The whole family was way too intrigued, and some were even alarmed.

The most alarming part, though, was the fact that Damian had been uncharacteristically quiet on their way down. Yet, when Dick looked to Cass, she just shook her head slightly. The boy was not worried. To Cass, he looked almost resigned, if a bit displeased.

"Your sword, Damian," Talia commands, and the boy presses his lips into a thin line.

"This is not necessary, Mother."

"It is," the woman looks amused, but there's an underlying layer of concern to her tone.

"...Yes, Mother," Damian nods his head on what feels like surrender and takes his katana. Not the training one, the real blade. Bruce makes a soft, alarmed grunt, but Talia waves him off.

"Not to worry, Beloved. I will not harm our brethren."

She doesn't take a stance, nor does she pick out a weapon, simply lunges for Damian as soon as they are both on the mats. Two daggers seem to appear in her hands out of nothing, and, contrary to her words, her aim is towards Damian's neck. The boy blocks, jumps away, and blocks another attack.

Tim steps closer, "You can't just-"

"Step away, Drake," It's the first time Damian has spoken to them since they've sat down for dinner. His voice is tense, but not derisive. If anything, it sounds a bit tired.

Talia lunges for him again, faster, meaner. Metal clings against metal.

"You understand this can not keep going, my child," she tells the boy, startlingly gentle on the contrary to her definitely dangerous strikes.

Damian doesn't answer.

The rest of Batfam are forced to simply watch the encounter: Damian is mostly on defense as Talia goes for him, harder and harder with every hit. Until, without any warning, the woman strikes for Damian's arm, making him drop his katana, and-

A few things happen at once.

Talia lunges for Damian's throat. Bruce jumps onto the mats so fast that he almost trips. Tim yelps.

But Talia's blade doesn't strike.

A figure of another child, eerily similar to Damian and wearing the League of Assassins uniform, is standing in front of the littlest bat, two crystal clear blades in his hands, blocking the dagger.

Bruce halts midstep. The rest of the family holds their breath.

But Talia simply smiles and drops her daggers, backing away and looking at the boy between her and Damian with a fond gaze.

"Danyal," she greets, and the boy huffs, lowering his weapons. He doesn't drop them - they simply dissipate in the air, turning into tiny snowflakes.

"Mother," he greets back begrudgingly, and his voice is the exact replica of Damian's. A clone? No, because Damian reacts to him nothing like he had to the clones, simply clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes.

"You could have simply asked, Mother," he comments, taking a step forward and stading near the other boy. Danyal. When standing side by side, they look nearly identical - same facial features, same posture, same hair, even if Damian's is a little more tame.

But Danyal's eyes are just a few hues off. Still green but lighter than Damian's.

"I assumed if you have spent years living here and never bothered to mention your brother, I would need a little more than asking, my love," Talia doesn't laugh, but it sounds like she wants to. Both boys roll their eyes, perfectly in sync.

Hold the fuck up, brother?

"Huh. I thought you died," Jason mentions offhandedly, and the whole family whips their heads to him. Yet, before any of them speak, it's Danyal who answers.

"I mean, I did? Kinda?" He waves his hand in the air and shrugs, and he acts so unlike Damian while also simultaneously having his face, that it makes Tim shiver a little.

"You-" Bruce starts, seeming to finally find his voice, but the boy cuts him off.

"I'm not actually yours," he snorts at Bruce's facial expression, "Yeah, I know I look like I am. Blame the ghost sewers, Chronos, and my stupid ass for making decisions while not being fully awake."

There is so much to unpack in that sentence that no one has the barest of ideas on where to start.

Damian curves his lips down in a sneer.

"The longer you stay there staring, the colder the dinner will be when we return," he reminds them, and Danyal suddenly perks up.

"Dinner? Can I join? It's been ages since I've had anything home cooked," he smiles, like there's some kind of an inside joke in that sentence. Damian rolls his eyes.

"The food doesn't come alive in this household, Danyal."

"Bummer," the boy looks a bit disappointed, but not too much. "And it's Danny, for the thousandth time."

Talia picks up her daggers, hiding them somewhere in her clothes in an unnoticeable motion. Then, she gives Bruce a small, if a bit sly, smile.

"You can not call it 'family dinner' if not all your family is there."

[drchucktingle]

my masks

hey there buckaroos. due to all of the attention the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION situation has gotten i am going to take a minute to talk about my personal way as an autistic buckaroo. im going to tell you about my masks.

im doing this for a few reasons, some are good FUN reasons full of love and some are not so great. 

lets start with the GOOD STUFF. first of all, i am talking about this because speaking on my way can help other buckaroo feel more comfortable speaking on there own way, ESPECIALLY if they are good at ‘passing’ for neurotypical like chuck is. 

unfortunately the NOT SO GREAT reasons im talking about all this dang stuff are two fold. reason one: i have been put into a position of having to explain and justify my needs and boundaries by the TXLA. this is not something that i WANT to be taking up all of my time, but when large organizations do not make space for those who they have pledged to support, it puts us smaller buckaroos into position where were have to defend our existence. it is not plesent but it is necessary.

the second NOT SO GREAT reason is that ‘passing’ bisexual and autistic people like myself are ALWAYS just seconds from being gatekept from folks both outside and inside these communities. there will probably be a day on chucks deathbed where i take off my mask and say hello to this timeline (mostly so you can all see how handsome i am under here but I DIGRESS). i KNOW with absolute certainty (the same way other bi and autistic buckaroos are probably nodding along right now) that when that day comes i will STILL be accused of ‘not being real’ and ‘faking’ because i ‘dont look autistic’ and i have a beautiful ladybuck partner in sweet barbara.

ALL THAT IS TO SAY, i am taking a moment today to talk FOR THE RECORD about my neurodigence and my particular needs. hopefully i will not have to keep diving this deep every time an organization takes a discrimantory action against me, but i will also say this: at least it is a good fight on an important battlefield

anyway buds, here is the story of my way on the spectrum

when i was a young buckaroo i knew that my thought process was different. i could socialize easily, which is unique in contrast to many autistic buds (it is a spectrum after all), but my social ease was for an interesting reason. I ALWAYS KNEW WHAT OTHERS WERE ABOUT TO SAY. it was like a strange ‘human game’ where someone would say one thing and i would think ‘well you actually mean something else’ in a sort of logical way (this is why i later related to DATA from star trek so dang much). at first i remember thinking ‘well i am just NOT going to play along with this human game’. i quickly learned neurotypical buckaroos do not like this, that there is a BOB AND WEAVE to social interactions that must be learned. 

later i realized ‘actually if i WANT to make friends and prove love is real then i can do this like an expert because i can SEE the game where most cant’. this got chuck many buds and took me on many adventures. please understand, i am not saying these connections are not important to me, they are just different. they are full of love, but i express this in my own unique way.

HOWEVER, while growing up i felt disconnected from this timeline in other ways, like an alien or a reverse twin trotting along in a world that is not quite my own. i did not feel emotions the same way my buds did. they would get upset over the ‘human game’ interactions and i would not be moved at all, HOWEVER i could see the way sunlight hit a window and start crying my dang eyes out over the beauty. so my emotion was still there and VERY STRONG, i just felt it in more existential ways (like hearing the call of the lonesome train). these days that feeling has progressed to where i am pretty much in a constant blissed out state of cosmic emotional connection (make of that last sentence what you will, but it is the truth). when i make existential posts online i am not just FIRING OFF SOME CONTENT, i really mean every word. this is really my trot.

anyway as a young buckaroo these feelings made me worry sometimes. i thought about various mental health dianosises and marked the parts and pieces that matched with myself. am i this? am i that? sometimes, instead of just being’ different’ i worried i might actually be ‘wrong’. 

when i saw david byrne on letterman in my younger days i immediately recognized something connected to myself. i thought ‘wow this is the mystery being solved before my very eyes.’ i could hear it in the music of talking heads too. i started doing research and realized that i might be on autism spectrum, something that was later confirmed by a therapist (back then the diagnosis was called asperger's). it was a glorious and fulfilling moment. i was SO EXCITED TO BE AUTISTIC LIKE MY HERO. i felt very cool because of it, and i still feel very cool because of it.

one of the big reasons i talk so much about being autistic these days is because i want to make sure OTHER buckaroos can have that same moment that i did. they can see chuck and think ‘wow i really like this autistic artist, maybe being autistic is cool’

so what does an average day WITHOUT wearing the pink bag look like for me?

my thought process is exactly like ROSE from CAMP DAMASCUS, which is part of why i wrote the book. we have the same stim (complex order of finger taps), we prepare for social interactions the same way, we analyze things in the same logical trot that neurotypical people might think feels ‘detached’ but for me feels natural (certain reviews of camp damascus are very funny to me in this way. you can tell when a reader is just very confused by existing in an autistic brain for 250 pages.)

from the outside you would not be able to tell that i am on the spectrum. in fact you would probably find me very socially adept. 

the problem is, all of that masking can take its toll. i spent years trotting in and out the emergency room, talking to confused doctors who could not figure out the chronic phantom tension and pain that radiated through my body. i eventually accepted the fact that i would either live a life constantly on heavy painkillers or just stop living altogether.

eventually, however, i started noticing a correlation between the way that i felt, and the space that i allowed for chuck and the pink mask. i was exercising that tension, allowing my mental mask of neurotypical existence to take a rest. i started practicing physical therapy and this time THE RESULTS STUCK because i was approaching from two sides, MIND AND BODY. after a while, i got my pain down to about 5 percent of what it once was. i still have flare ups in times of stress, but the healing has been very real and life changing.

lets get VERY specific now. if i attended the TXLA confrence without a mask and gave my talk i can tell you this: i would do a dang good job. i can work the heck out of a crowd and (not to reveal too much about my secret way) I HAVE BEEN KNOWN TO DO THIS ON OCCASION VERY WELL. however, going home from this event i would very likely be in pain. i would likely need to do physical therapy. i would likely need to stim for a while. i would NOT be emotionally fullfilled in the same way. in other words, without my pink mask i can charm the heck out of buckaroos, but THE SPACE OF CHUCK TINGLE IS NOT THE SPACE FOR THAT. the pink bag is a place for me to not have to put up with that tension. it is a place for me to unmask mentally by masking physically.

this pink bag space SAVED MY LIFE and i am not going to risk blurring these lines. if and when that ever happens it will be MY decision, not someone elses. that is my boundary. the part of me that neurotypically masks could handle a library conference in a purely technical sense, but the part of me that chuck represents absolutely cannot and should not be asked to do that without the pink bag. unfortunately, the complexity of this point makes it even MORE difficult for me to think about and takes up even more of my time, because it forces me to START QUESTIONING MYSELF and my own needs. to be honest, that is the most insidious part of other people questioning your identify and refusing to accept your accommodation needs without ‘proof’.

the thing is, while all of this discussion of disability and accessibility is important, i have a much larger point to make by writing these words.

a conference should not uninvite someone with an unusual physical presentation or a strange way of speaking REGARDLESS of it being classified as a disability. it does not matter WHY i look the way that i look and wear what i wear. i should not have to spend all day writing this post instead of writing my next book, just because my sensibilities are unique and my presentation is unusual. 

fortunately the solution is very simple: let other people be themselves. its not hurting you to simply accept and nod at the buckaroos you think look strange. let us exist

[mapis-putellas]

𝑹𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒔/𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

The media storm surrounding your transfer to Barcelona was unlike anything you had ever experienced. Headlines screamed your name next to Alexia’s, speculating on how two supposed rivals could possibly coexist on the same team. Rival domestic leagues. Rival international squads. Ballon d’Or wins traded back and forth. It was the narrative they had crafted for years, and now they were salivating at the thought of drama on the pitch.

You sat in your empty apartment the night before your first training session, scrolling through social media. It was hard not to laugh at some of the posts. They thought you’d be clawing at each other’s throats, that your mutual intensity would combust in a way that could never work. If only they knew the truth.

Your phone buzzed with a message from Alexia.

Alexia: Estás lista para mañana?

You smiled, quickly typing back: Always. Nervous?

Alexia: Un poco. Solo por todo el drama.

You sent back a laughing emoji and then: Don’t worry. We’ll show them how it’s done.

She replied with a simple, Sí, and you could picture her faint smile as she sent it. Alexia wasn’t one for grand gestures or unnecessary words. She was calm, collected, a perfect balance to your own fiery nature. It was one of the reasons you worked so well together, on and off the pitch.

The next morning, walking into the Barcelona training facility in your new kit felt surreal. The cameras were out in full force, capturing every moment as you stepped onto the field alongside your new teammates.

Alexia was already there, standing with the group, her captain’s armband snug on her bicep. When your eyes met, her face remained neutral—professional—but the slightest quirk of her lips told you everything you needed to know. She was proud to have you here, despite the noise surrounding it.

“Welcome,” she said as you approached.

“Thanks, Capitana,” you teased, keeping your tone light for the sake of the watchful eyes around you.

The session began, and from the first touch of the ball, everything felt right. There was no tension, no competition—just an effortless synergy between you and Alexia. You both knew exactly where the other would be, where the ball needed to go. It was as if you’d been playing together for years. Which you had, in a way, if you count practicing together at home.

By the time training ended, you were drenched in sweat but buzzing with energy. The team gathered around for a cooldown, and Alexia took her place at the center, leading stretches.

“Good work today,” she said, her voice firm but warm. “This is going to be a good season.”

Her eyes flicked to yours briefly, a private acknowledgment that made your chest tighten.

When training wrapped up and the cameras finally dispersed, you and Alexia lingered on the pitch under the guise of practicing free kicks. It was one of the few moments you could steal together without drawing suspicion.

She nudged the ball toward you with her foot. “¿Qué piensas?”

“I think they’re all going to be eating their words soon,” you replied with a grin, adjusting the ball before taking a shot.

Alexia laughed softly, a sound you cherished because it was so rare.

Later that evening, after a team dinner, you found yourself back at your new and unfamiliar apartment scrolling through the photos the media had posted from the day. The comments were a mix of skepticism and surprise at how well you and Alexia had worked together. The narrative of “rivals turned teammates” was still very much alive.

You opened Instagram, scrolling through your camera roll until you found the perfect photo from training: you and Alexia side by side in your kits, her arm slung casually around your shoulders as you both smiled at each other.

Yourname

Liked by alexiaputellas, Ingrid_engen and others.

Yourname Well, I guess the rumours weren’t true after all.

The likes and comments flooded in almost immediately, fans losing their minds over the photo. Some were thrilled, others skeptical, but all of them were seemingly hooked. Not even a minute later, Alexia messaged you: Eres mala.

You laughed, replying: Just setting the record straight.

And then: or well, not so straight in this case.

Alexia: 😂

Alexia: te amo.

You respond immediately with: I love you more.

Your phone buzzed one last time.

Alexia: Duermes bien. Estoy orgullosa de ti.

You: And you, mi amor.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @wileys-russo @mead-iocre @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan

[captainsophiestark]

Don't Believe Everything You Read

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: Bridgerton

Day Three Prompt: "I know you better."

Summary: A wannabe Whistledown is posting some awful rumors, but luckily for Anthony, his wife knows him well enough that she doesn't believe them.

Word Count: 1,247

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed, tightening my hands on the book I was reading and trying to refocus on the words. I'd been having a nice, peaceful morning in Bridgerton house (a truly rare feat) until Eloise and Benedict had started some commotion near the door to the sitting room.

I'd married Anthony almost a year ago now, but I still hadn't learned how to block out his siblings quite as well as he did.

I managed to finish another paragraph before the commotion at the door distracted me again. I glanced at the pair out of the corner of my eye, and found them having a whispered argument, both glancing in my direction every few moments. I sighed. The rest of my story would have to wait until later.

Slowly and quietly, so as not to draw too much attention from the Bridgertons by the door, I makred my page in my book and set it down on the couch. I stood, drifting over toward Eloise and Benedict. Eloise had something in her hand, and it seemed to be the genesis of hers and Benedict's hushed argument. I got a little closer and recognized the shape and style of a scandal sheet.

Eloise and Benedict had gotten steadily more heated in their argument, and when Eloise flailed the paper in my direction, I snatched it out of her hand.

She and Benedict both whirled in my direction, but I'd made it halfway across the room before either of them got a chance to take the paper back.

"Don't read that!" Benedict shouted, chasing after me.

"You have a right to read it, but you might want a bit of a heads up first-"

I cut Eloise off by darting well out of their reach and reading one of the headlines of the scandal sheet.

Viscount Bridgerton Stepping Out On His New Wife?

I snorted and rolled my eyes. I quickly scanned the rest of the article, which went on to talk sensationally about all these rumors surrounding Anthony and a mysterious new mistress. Not a word of it was believable, of course, and at least one of the reports of Anthony strolling at night with a strange woman was just me, wearing new clothes the rest of the Ton hadn't seen yet. I barely made it to the end of the article before I started laughing.

I looked up to find Eloise and Benedict looking at me warily. I just shook my head.

"This is certainly no Lady Whistledown, is it?" The pair raised their eyebrows at me, still tensed like they were worried the laughter would turn to tears. I rolled my eyes. "Oh please, both of you. I know Anthony, I know this is ridiculous. Clearly whoever's writing this nonsense has too much free time on their hands. Or maybe not enough, since they couldn't come up with anything more realistic than this."

"So... you're not upset?" asked Eloise.

"No, El, I'm not. I know the man I married. This," I waved the paper around in my hand, "is just funny."

She and Benedict let out massive sighs as one.

"Well, that's certainly a relief," said Benedict. "I suppose Eloise and I were getting worked up for nothing."

"And likewise, you interrupted my reading for nothing," I said. "You're welcome to stay if you're quiet, but otherwise, I appreciate the laugh, but would appreciate more the return of my peaceful reading space."

"You have chosen the sitting room as your peaceful space," Benedict said. "That might not offer you the highest chance of remaining undisturbed."

"You make a fair point, but you also seemed to want to keep this scandal sheet from me completely, so I think today I can kick you out."

"Fair enough. Eloise?"

"I was supposed to meet Penelope before I found the scandal sheet with the mail. I'm already a bit late," she said with a wave over her shoulder as she headed out of the room. Benedict gave me a teasing bow, then followed his sister out of the room.

I sighed, then settled back in to my original place on the couch. I made it through another few pages before the door of the sitting room went flying open, the door making a loud bang as it slammed into the wall. I jumped and whirled around to find Anthony, looking like an absolute mess as he crossed the room in just a few strides before sliding to his knees before me. His hair stuck up at all angles and his clothes looked disheveled. He took my hands in his and started speaking before I could get a word out.

"My love, it's not true. Not a word of it. I love you, you must know that. I would absolutely never, ever go behind your back, would never even dream of spending time with anyone else-"

"Anthony, my god! Take a breath, what are you talking about?"

"I saw Eloise. She told me you'd read the scandal sheet sent out this morning. But you must know, it was a lie."

"Did you happen to wait for Eloise to tell you my reaction before you raced in here?"

"No. I worried... I didn't want to waste a moment before speaking with you. I promise, I would never do that to you. There's no one else and there never will be-"

"I know! Anthony, believe me, I know." I slid to the ground along with him, chest to chest as I kept his hands held tight in mine. "You think I'd believe some ridiculous wannabe Whistledown telling me you're a cheater? I know you better. I know you best. I know you would never do that to me, that I can trust you, no matter what. Even if Whistledown herself had reported it, I wouldn't have believed a word."

"...Truly?"

"Absolutely! We're rock solid, Anthony. I honestly wouldn't have married you if I didn't trust you."

He sighed, all the tension easing from his body as he slumped forward, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his head on my shoulder.

"I cannot tell you how relieved I am to hear that."

"I'm glad we got your worry cleared up quickly," I said. "Although, if you had paused to talk to Eloise for another moment, she could've told you I started laughing the minute I read those ridiculous reports."

Anthony picked his head up to look at me, pulling me closer to him as he did.

"I'm much happier to have heard it from you directly. Especially since it means I can do this."

He leaned in, a grin on his face, and kissed me. I ran my hands up his back and into his hair, but pulled away after just a moment. Anthony moved to follow me, but I put a hand on his chest to stop him.

"Anthony, we are in the sitting room! Anyone could walk in on us at any moment."

"Good. Then they'll know the rumors are just that, and that nothing could ever come between the two of us."

"Anthony."

"Fine. This is an easy fix as well."

With that, he stood, picking me up and carrying me out of the room. I laughed, not even bothering to mention my book that now lay forgotten on the sofa. Anthony and I had other plans for the rest of our morning, it seemed, and I couldn't say I minded them. Anthony and I were happier than I ever thought we could be, and nothing was going to interfere with that, especially not some ridiculous gossip rag.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Bridgerton Taglist: @cherrybb-ily

[tojisun]

hockey player simon pt 0.5 // pt 01 & 02

(pre-pt 1 & 2)

there is something that riley (41) does that kind of—or really, if you're being honest, which you aren't—makes you breathless. you wonder if it's a deliberate habit, or if it's something he does unconsciously. whatever it may be, it drives you fucking nuts.

when he's on ice, mid-game, riley chooses to chew on his mouth guard instead of wearing it.

thing is, he's not the only one who actually does this—countless lead players are photographed as they chew on their mouthpieces, their eyes faraway because they are in the zone—and you've always noticed them, of course you have, but there is something fundamentally different when riley does it.

it's pleasing when it's him who does it. attractive.

the others barely make you blink, but riley? god, you can't even show your camera roll to your friends anymore because of that one day when you mass-saved every single photo of him biting on his mouth guard that you could scour.

you probably downloaded about forty-one (ha!) images of those types.

it's embarrassing to admit out loud, but dear god he is so charming like that—in full hockey gear, his damp hair framing his flushed face, and his grin made cheekier by the fact that he's biting down on his mouth guard.

one was even your homescreen for a while.

fuck him for being gorgeous.

---

(post-pt 02)

simon skates towards you at the sound of the buzzer—the first period is over, and now it was time for the intermission. the rink is being cleared out for the re-icing, but here he is being a bastard, loitering and everything. even his coach seemed to have given up at shouting his name already, and after a quick glance at him, you know simon’s going to be reprimanded for this.

but the thought and the fond exasperation is squashed into hot smithereens, with your heart lodging itself in your throat again. you feel faint, your eyes going wide as you map the way simon moves towards you, gliding across ice with a rugged grace.

simon’s eyes are dark, lined with exhaustion and adrenaline, and his teeth, pearly, are chewing on his mouthpiece.

fuck—

he stops just in front of you and taps the glass protector. cameras flash by your sides and you know damn well you’d see your face later posted in different socials, but right now, in front of simon, you can’t even begin to care how ridiculous you might look.

(you looked breathless. cowed. in awe. everyone can’t fault you, really, after all that’s riley.)

you don’t even know what you did—did you wave your hand too? did you tap back? did you do something else, something that you typically wouldn’t have done?—but whatever it was, it has simon smiling, his lips tugging up to show more of his pearly teeth gnashing on his mouth guard.

you whimper.

-

"why the hell do you keep chewing on ye' gumshield?" mactavish asks in the weight room while he spots simon's reps. garrick is in the corner by himself while price is out with the coaches, discussing about other plays they can start with come the second period.

simon has to tamp down his smile at mactavish’s words, his arms almost buckling as the rush of inexplicable giddiness that fills him up, before he murmurs, "s'none of y'r business."

"oi!"

well what does mactavish want simon to say? that he accidentally peeked into one of the albums in your old phone only to be met by series of pictures of him biting on his mouthpiece and decided to tease you during today’s game?

that’d make him look like he isn’t serious about the game, wouldn’t it?

this is, truly, inspired by draisaitl 😔 and for @spngingerbread21 <33

[steviesummer]

inspired by and as a direct follow up to this post by @strangersteddierthings:

Eddie is horrified. He remembers the day Steve is referring to, though clearly not as well as Steve does. He calls out as Steve raced up the stairs and hears his door slam.

“Fuck.” He stares blankly at the wall in front of him. He can’t believe things went so bad so quickly. He’s been trying to get to know Steve better, get closer and damn if he didn’t just blow the hole thing. He’d shown up early, told Steve he needed to prepare as an excuse to spend some time with him. Despite everything that happened over spring break, Steve had remained guarded, standoffish no matter what Eddie tried. At least now he knew why. He’d fucked things up before he’d known there was something to fuck up.

He feels even worse about calling him a bully. Sure, Steve had looked the other way and even laughed at some of the mean jokes others had made, but he was far from the worst. That dubious award went to Billy Hargrove, but even without him, there was plenty of people who did far worse than Steve did. Especially because Steve is right. He did hit first, metaphorically at least. He can justify it all he wants as trying to protect himself, but that doesn’t make it right. Steve all but admitted that as he said the same thing. He feels nauseous at the realization that maybe he was just as bad as those he decried. That for all his talk about accepting outcasts and defying convention, he was just as prejudiced. Swallowing hard, he heads back to the dining room and looks at the clock. There is no way he is going to be able to run the campaign today. He’s not going to be able to focus or even play without thinking about how things might have been if he hadn’t driven Steve off all those years ago. He grabs the phone and dials Gareth’s number. “Emerson house, Sheryl speaking.” “Hi Mrs. Emerson, it’s Eddie.” Eddie is proud that he manages to keep his voice even. “Is Gareth there?” “Oh, yes! Let me go get him for you.” “Thanks Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie focuses on breathing while he waits. “Eddie? Hey man, what’s up?” Eddie breathes out. “Hey Gareth. Look, I know its last minute, but we’re gonna have to postpone Hellfire. Something came up.” He could hear Gareth’s frown through the phone. “Postpone? What happened, did Harrington do something?” As if he couldn’t feel worse. “Nah. I’ll explain later, but can you call Jeff and Frank, let them know? I gotta call the freshman, too.” “Alright, but I’m going to hold you to that.” “Fair enough. Talk to you tomorrow.” Eddie promises before hanging up. He weighs his options for how to tell the Party. Eventually, he decides on calling Mike, know that the younger teen won’t push too much. He’s dialing the Wheeler home before he can second guess his decision. “This is Mike.” Eddie feels a rush of gratitude that Mike is the one who answered, rather than Nancy or one of their parents. “Hey Mike, it’s Eddie. Listen, Steve’s not feeling great and having Hellfire here isn’t going to help. Can you call the rest of the Party, let them know we’re gonna move it to another day? I’ll keep an eye on Steve.” Eddie knows Mike is a confused, given how adamant he’s been in the past about not canceling or moving Hellfire, but as he expected, Mike accepts what he says at face value. “Sure. Need us to bring anything?” “Nah, I’ve got it. Pretty sure he just needs some peace and quiet so he can rest. But thanks.” They say their goodbyes and Eddie puts the phone back on the hook.  With that done, he checks that the door is locked and faces the stairs. Now for the hard part. He’s not sure what he’s going to say, if there is anything he can say that will fix this, but he has to try. Even if doesn’t change things between him and Steve, Steve deserves at least that much. Every step feels like it takes effort, chest heavy with guilt, but it only takes him a few moments to get to Steve’s door. It’s closed, which doesn’t surprise him. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before knocking. Nothing. “Steve?” If it wasn’t for the quiet sound of Steve’s breathing he could hear through the door, Eddie would think he had left. He glad that he at least didn’t drive Steve out of his own home. He rests his forehead on the door. “I’m sorry.” Eddie hopes Steve can hear how much he means it. “You’re right, I fucked up. I made an assumption and took out my anger at other people on you. And that wasn’t fair and it’s not okay. But I want you to know that I’m sorry. Even if it wasn’t you, I shouldn’t have done that.” He lets out a hysterical laugh as he realizes - “And despite that, you still humor the kids when they talk about D&D and agreed to let us play here and didn’t punch me in the face, which makes you a better man than I.” He falls silent, listens as Steve’s breathing slows. He isn’t sure how long he stands there. He wonders how many other people he hurt this way, without even realizing. Knows he wants to do better, be better. He sighs, feeling his shoulders slump. “Anyway, I canceled Hellfire for today. I told everyone something came up, don’t worry about that. I’ll make up some story, make sure they know its not your fault. And uh,  let me know if you want to hang out again or something. I know I’ve been around a lot; didn’t realize that I was making you so uncomfortable, which is probably another thing I should apologize for. Anyway. Yeah. I’ll see you around, okay?” He waits a moment for an answer, but when none comes, he backs away from the door and walks downstairs to gather his stuff. It hurts, but he knows Steve deserves space and to be the one to initiate contact. He has some thinking to do, anyway.

[revelboo]

I'm going to crown you queen of cliffhangers, here you go 👑

Starscream would just steal it. Driving back to the real world today, so no posts until later in the evening

Everything Is Alright Pt 87

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Servos curled loosely about you so you stay put, Megatron scrolls through reports. Aware of your sullen silence after he’d laughed at you. Realizing the Seeker’s really convinced you that he loves you even though Starscream only loves Starscream. He almost pities you, because that look on your face has made it obvious you love him in return. Even after he’d told you what Starscream was capable of, you’re still loyal to him and that’s impressive in a way. Optics flicking down when you lean into his servos again, shivering. Figured out you were cold some time ago, but also much too proud to accept help from him if he offered it. You’re warm against him, he can feel the beat of your little heart and it’s unsettling. This helpless, little thing in his hand.

• Sneaking a glance at his face to make sure he’s still scrolling, because you feel guilty about leaning into his warmth. Like it’s a betrayal. You don’t like him, but he’s warm. That’s all. The silence between you had gone past uncomfortable some time ago. Know you’re supposed to be talking to him, trying to endear yourself to him for safety, but when you’d slipped up and said the L word and he’d laughed, you’d been too angry to try. Because it hadn’t been a mocking laugh, it was genuine. Like the idea of Star caring for anyone is hilarious. “For a murderous warlord, you’re pretty boring,” you mutter, immediately cringing as he glances at you.

• “Would you prefer I raze a town or two?” He growls at you, amused when you scowl. “I suppose I could make a show of force,” he begins and you twist toward him, a little hand grabbing his servo and a quick ‘no.’ Frightened eyes stare up at him, your fear much less entertaining than he’d expected. Why are your expressions so Cybertronian? So easy to read? Venting, he shifts his servo until you pull your hand away. “Then don’t complain.”

• “Boring’s good. I like boring,” you say, heart still racing. Had he been serious? You’re not sure as one corner of his mouth twists slightly like it might have been a joke. In horribly poor taste. Then he reaches up a servo and touches your head, absently patting you like a favorite pet that did a cute trick as he continues scrolling. Which part of what you’d said had he liked? Which part of his amusement can you exploit?

• It takes longer than Starscream expects to dig through the archives of Shockwave’s meticulous, excessive notes. Chasing a rumor he’d overheard decades ago about how this world was seeded with energon. Knows the scientist was experimenting with different varieties of energon, most too unstable to be feasible. Long term anyway. There. A note with coordinates for where an Ore-13 that had proved toxic to the volunteers that had used it, but had increased their strength exponentially, was seeded. Even if it had eventually killed them from repeated use. But he only needs to use it once. One time to end Megatron. To protect you.

• Can’t monitor the Seeker all the time and he knows it, but it’s hard when Soundwave knows how desperate Starscream is. Entering the bridge, his shoulders ease at the sound of your soft voice and a rumbling reply from Megatron. Because you’re talking to each other and he has to believe it’s a good thing. Needs Megatron to see you for you to be safe. Even if you and Star both hate it. Megatron notices him first and the almost teasing curve of his lips flattens out. Serious again even as you stand up to lift a hand in greeting and Megatron shifts his servos around you as if to keep you from falling. A small thing, but one that gives him hope. “Reports on Autobot activity,” he says.

• Watching Soundwave hand over a datapad, you’re almost tempted to reach up your arms like a little kid demanding to be picked up. Especially when his head lowers to stare at you like he knows. You think he might reach out a servo at least, touch your hair or arm, but he doesn’t do that either. So you sit back down. Almost embarrassed that you’d been picking at the warlord and actually enjoying his retorts. Hating that he has a sense of humor. That little, guarded half smile. He’s all business now, though and you wonder if there’s anyone here he can joke with, smile with. Or if he’s like Star and trusts no one. Hating that the thought bothers you that they’re all alone together.

Previous

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[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [11]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.7k

Trigger Warnings: gore, implied mutilation

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 10 | Fic Masterlist | Part 12

Hearing the cessation of all the screams, one of the royal guards gathered the courage to enter the chamber and check on Seonghwa, "Sir, are you done?"

Upon entering, he had yet to witness the state in which the former minister was left. The general stood before his victim, actively wiping all the blood off his hands with a towel prepared beforehand, "It's done. Has my assistant arrived to pick me up?"

"Yes, sir. Assistant Choi is waiting with your carriage by the entrance. If I remember correctly, he mentioned Lady Park helped prepare dinner today." A smile instantly graced your husband's face at the mere mention of you.

"Thank you, soldier. Bring in the rest and clean up the mess," He instructed, finally stepping away from the seat in the middle of the room, revealing the sight of your father slumped in the chair, both of his arms missing, blood gushing out from his shoulders, "Get him to a physician before banishing him. No need to treat him extensively; heal him just enough to keep him alive."

Freezing, the guard nodded quickly, "Y-yes, sir! We will not let you down!" His round eyes fixated on the two mutilated limbs on the ground in the middle of the puddle of crimson liquid.

The general was truly not someone to be underestimated, that was evident to the royal guards who filed in later on to clean up the bloody mess. They now understood why Seonghwa was so feared among those who had worked with him or witnessed his cold-blooded nature firsthand.

However, rather than instilling pure terror, your husband garnered more respect from them. He had gone to great lengths just to avenge his beloved wife. This demonstrated that the man still possessed a heart after all and that his affection for Lady Park was undeniable. He has proven that he could love just as fiercely as he hated.

Not a single member of the palace staff harboured even a hint of pity for the former Minister of Military Affairs as they dealt with his mangled body according to instructions. Any citizen with access to news was aware of all the cruel acts the old man had committed against his own daughter and first wife. It was safe to say that witnessing him in this state brought ample satisfaction not only to the general but to others as well.

"Sir, there's a bit of blood here."

The assistant extended his handkerchief, ensuring his master was free from any signs of bloodshed as they returned home. The last thing they all needed was for you to catch on to any of the events that occurred today; you should only focus on happiness and never spare another thought for your so-called family from now onwards.

"Thank you, Jongho," The general responded, taking the piece of fabric to remove the small bloodstain on his neck, "Keep me posted on where they banished that clown afterwards. It would be nice to check in on him once in a while, for entertainment purposes."

"Yes, sir."

Upon entering the estate, he was surprised not to find you waiting for him by the entrance, as was your usual routine when he returned from work. Only the head maid and a few servants stood there, ready to greet him, "Welcome home, master. We hope you had a good day at work." They said with a deep bow.

Seonghwa frowned, "Where's the mistress?" The elderly woman replied, "Mistress is currently at the main hall having a chat with Royal Secretary Choi while they were awaiting your return."

That immediately had the general rushing towards the hall. He didn't like the thought of you alone with... yet another handsome man. He had finally grown accustomed to having Yunho around the estate whenever he was at work, only because the two of you rarely interacted; he knew that thanks to daily reports from Eunsook. Now, jealousy was flooding his veins again.

What if you found San more attractive?

"Yes, I fully understand your concern. My sister faces similar issues," The royal secretary's voice carried from outside the hall, and then your softer response followed, "Thank you so much for your help, San. It means a lot to me."

They're already on a first-name basis?

"Help? With what?" He queried, abruptly pulling you and the secretary from your conversation. Both of you looked up at him, and you blinked and stammered nervously, quickly rising from your seat, "Oh, Seonghwa! You're home! It's nothing, we were just having a casual conversation while waiting for you."

Sensing your unease, San chuckled and concurred, "Yes, it was nothing important. It's good that you're back; I've come to deliver the minutes of today's assembly to you, as per His Majesty's orders."

"Please don't let me interrupt; I'll be waiting for you at the dining hall," You remarked to your husband, offering a nod of gratitude to the secretary, "It was nice talking to you, Royal Secretary Choi," The man respectfully bowed his head, "And you, Lady Park."

The general watched the interaction between you two with unmistakable envy, causing San to suppress a snicker into his fist, "Without further ado, general, let's proceed so that you can join your wife for dinner as soon as possible," Seonghwa nodded, feigning nonchalance, "Of course."

As the secretary continued to share the main details discussed during the assembly, he noticed the general's slight distraction. Wrapping up the debrief, he decided to ease your husband's thoughts by divulging the nature of your earlier conversation.

"Listen, before you came back, Lady Park and I were just talking about her concerns regarding being a better wife. Given that my elder sister, who is married, shares similar worries, I was merely offering some insights that might be helpful. So, don't stress over it too much, okay? I assure you, you're the only one on her mind."

Learning that you were only seeking to improve yourself for him, Seonghwa's heart melted immediately. Regret washed over him for entertaining the notion that you might find his colleague more appealing, and a slight embarrassment crept in, "I, uhh... it's not like I was worried about that or anything... but thank you, San. If that's all for today, Jongho will escort you out."

The secretary held back his knowing smile as they bid each other farewell before the general made his way to the dining hall. His heart pounded with excitement at the thought of being with you again.

Dinner went by as usual, though this time, you were brimming with enthusiasm as you shared how you spent the day learning to prepare his favourite dishes from the kitchen staff. You even mentioned the surprising discovery that you might have developed a love for cooking. He ate more than usual, savouring the fact that the meal was made just for him, and found it difficult to take his eyes off of you throughout the night.

He had once considered happiness to be a frivolous notion, something only fools wished for. He never anticipated being the one to experience it. Now that he had, your husband was determined not to lose this newfound feeling.

With your family matters now resolved, the only thing remaining was to give you the grand wedding you truly deserved. From then on, the plan was to enjoy a lifetime of this happiness together. Watching you munching away with joy, he couldn't resist reaching over to affectionately wipe the corner of your lips. At that moment, he realised that this was all he needed.

After the meal, he walked you back to the House of Lotus, hand in hand as usual. Upon reaching the entrance, you smiled up at him, "Have a good night, Seonghwa."

However, before you could turn and leave, he swiftly cupped your face, "Wait, before you go..." Your heart quickened as he leaned in, whispering, "Just one kiss, my love."

Almost instinctively, your eyes fluttered closed as soon as his lips met yours in a tender kiss. The warmth spread through your insides as he wrapped his arms around your frame, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss by angling his head.

Feeling the sensation of his lips pressing against yours, again and again, you finally understood why couples enjoyed kissing. It was hard to put into words, but being so close to him felt pleasant, and your husband had a unique way of making you feel beautiful with his touches, even when you doubted it yourself. There was an almost addictive quality to it, making you feel like the luckiest woman in the world to be desired by the great General Park.

Perhaps I've found it... my happiness.

After breaking the kiss for a breath, he leaned his forehead against yours, a smile adorning his face as he looked down at you lovingly. In silence, the two of you remained in each other's arms, basking in the moment, reluctant to part.

Unfortunately, the moment was cut short as your assigned group of servants approached, "Oh, pardon us for the intrusion, master and mistress! We came to assist in preparing the mistress for bed. May we proceed, master? Or, if you wish to stay with the mistress, we could also make arrangements for both of you for the night in the House of Lotus."

His heart raced as he witnessed the faint blush on your cheeks in response to the maid's suggestion. Chuckling, he gently shook his head and placed a kiss on your forehead, "No, the mistress needs her rest. Perhaps another time. Go on ahead then; she will join you soon."

"Yes, master, as you wish."

The servants entered your quarters to prepare your bath while you exchanged your goodnight. Caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, he couldn't resist leaning in for a final, lingering kiss on your soft lips, "Goodnight, my love. I'll see you tomorrow."

As you made your way to your room, he felt a swell of affection watching you turn for one last wave before disappearing inside. He missed you already, and as much as he would have loved to hold you close all night, he knew that waiting until your proper wedding night to share the same bed was the right decision. For now, this was more than enough. After all, he had the rest of his life to spend with you.

"Thank goodness the ointment has been remarkably effective. I don't think you need to harbour any insecurities about your appearance anymore. Lady Park, you look beautiful." said Physician Jung as he arrived to assess the condition of your skin. Having you apply the medicine he prepared for some time, he recognised that his work here would soon be done.

Eunsook couldn't contain the grin on her face at the slight pink dusting your cheeks from the doctor's compliment, suddenly relieved that her master was not around. Lord knows how unamused he would have been to hear any of that or see your reaction.

"Yes, thank you, Yunho. She's always been ravishing with or without your ointment. I think your job here is done; it's my turn to enhance this beauty. Head over to the general's study for your pay if that's all," The doctor couldn't resist rolling his eyes at the dressmaker's dramatic entrance, "It's nice to see you too, Hongjoong."

With a dismissive wave, he shrugged off the sarcastic greeting from his tall friend, saying, "I'll catch up with you soon; I have work to do." Left with no other choice, Yunho offered one final bow to you before leaving your room with a maid escorting him out.

Closing the distance between you, the dressmaker swiftly retrieved the new hanbok he had made specifically for the special occasion today, declaring, "Now, who is ready to outshine all the princesses in the palace? It's you, Lady Park!"

"Outshine the princesses? I d-don't think that's a good idea—"

He interrupted you before you could finish your protest, "Nonsense! I promised General Park to make you the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon." With a small giggle, you sighed in defeat and allowed him to work his magic with the assistance of the head maid as they coordinated your appearance for your visit to the palace.

Today marked the day you and Seonghwa were meeting the King and Queen to discuss the details of your wedding ceremony in-depth, as well as allowing the royal couple to finally meet you after having heard so much about you. Even without having seen you, they already adored you from the stories your husband had shared. Not to mention, their hearts ached, especially after learning about your nightmarish childhood.

Seated at the vanity table, you gazed at your reflection in amazement as Eunsook worked on your hair and makeup, with Hongjoong providing expert advice and guidance. Just as the elderly woman was about to conceal the remaining faint scars on your face as she had always done, the dressmaker intervened, "No, wait. Leave the one on her forehead as it is; I have an idea."

With his extensive knowledge of fashion and beauty, he had always been intrigued by the Chinese makeup style, which incorporated temporary tattoos. Specifically, he was drawn to the idea of a small flower design painted onto women's foreheads.

Rather than covering your marks, he opted to transform them into an accessory that would improve your overall looks. With this distinctive look, you were bound to capture attention from all directions, not that your beauty didn't already achieve that. Now, you would stand out wherever you went, even within the palace grounds where princesses and royal concubines were always impeccably dressed.

Waiting by the entrance, Seonghwa turned when he recognised the sound of your dainty footsteps approaching. He didn't miss his assistant's awestruck expression, taking in your appearance from behind him, "Finally, Hongjoong's taken way too long..."

As you stepped into full view, his words trailed off, and his gaze fixed on you with a mix of astonishment and sheer admiration. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he couldn't find the words to express what he felt. You had always been beautiful in his eyes, but his friend had truly outdone himself this time.

The most significant difference that caught the general's attention was the little red flower on your forehead, right between your eyes. That delicate design elegantly covered one of the scars you bore from your past. It was a stroke of genius from the dressmaker, turning a mark of pain into a unique and striking accessory that enhanced your natural beauty.

Your husband approached you, his eyes never leaving yours. Finally finding his voice, he whispered, "You look breathtaking, my love," before gently reaching up to trace the edge of the flower on your forehead, his touch soft and filled with so much love, "Hongjoong, you've done wonders."

The dressmaker grinned proudly and nodded in agreement, "I know, I always do."

Throughout the journey to the palace, the general found it hard to divert his gaze from you, just as you were captivated by the passing scenery outside. The roads to the palace differed from the usual routes leading to town, explaining your intrigue. As he admired your beautiful face, an unexpected desire surged within him to take you back home and shield you from others' eyes. A sudden uncertainty about wanting anyone else to see you overcame him. A selfish impulse urged him to keep you all to himself.

Before he could entertain the impulsive idea of turning the carriage around, Jongho had already announced their arrival. This time, Eunsook didn't bother to stand by and assist you down, instead waiting expectantly as the general smoothly helped you in one swift movement, determined to keep you close.

Having been here more than enough, Seonghwa knew this place might appear beautiful on the inside but could be very dangerous at the same time. People here might seem nice but rarely could be trusted, particularly the women. Well aware of this, he hesitated to let you wander off alone, despite your status as his wife. You were easily recognisable as Lady Park from a distance, anyone would have to be insane to dare mess with you.

Even so, he had no intention of leaving your side for even a moment. Palace servants passing by bowed deeply at both of you, and you did your best to maintain the poise of a noblewoman as practised with the head maid. The last thing you wanted was to make your husband look bad in here.

As you both approached the hall for the meeting with His and Her Majesty, the royal secretary rushed out to intercept the two of you. Almost as if your husband had jinxed it, San exclaimed, "There you are, General Park! We have a bit of a situation right now. Your immediate presence is required at an emergency meeting."

"But my wife—"

Finally realising you were present, the secretary bowed, "Oh, right, Lady Park! We're all aware you're here to discuss your wedding arrangements, but this really cannot wait. Even His Majesty is currently in this meeting expecting you. Would it be alright if we have your wife waiting by the cherry blossom garden? We'll have the servants prepare her some refreshments."

As much as Seonghwa detested the sudden change of plans, he acknowledged that he was left with no choice upon sensing the urgency in San's demeanour. With a nod of defeat, he agreed, "Okay, fine. Eunsook, please stay by the mistress' side at all times."

She nodded with a bow, "Of course, master."

Turning to you with a regretful frown etched on his brows, he said, "I'm sorry for having to leave you alone, my love. I'll come back to you as quickly as I can, I promise."

You shook your head with an understanding smile, "Don't worry about me, Seonghwa. I'll be fine. Your work is more important. Now hurry and go. Don't make His Majesty wait." Sighing lightly, he pecked you on the head before rushing off with the royal secretary.

"Lady Park, please come with us. We will guide you to the cherry blossom garden."

A team of palace maids appeared before you, showing you as much respect as they would towards royalty. Your status and reputation were well-known nationwide; you were favoured not only by your husband but also by the King and Queen themselves. No one would dare to disrespect you for fear of dire consequences.

Their dedication was evident in the top-tier hospitality as they led you to the enchanting garden, unlike anything you had ever seen. After thanking them politely, they prepared a seat for you in one of the pavilions within the vast garden, serving a tray of tea and some sophisticated-looking snacks.

Boredom eventually set in, and you glanced at one of the palace maids standing ready by the pavilion for any orders you might have for her, "Excuse me, would it be okay for me to take a walk around the garden?"

"Oh, certainly, Lady Park! Feel free to explore the garden as you please. Would you like any of us to accompany you?" Smiling and glancing at Eunsook, you declined, "No, thank you. We'll manage on our own. We won't be gone too long; you have my word."

"Thank you, Lady Park. Your assurance is appreciated; we'll await your return here." They bowed deeply as you and the head maid began your leisurely stroll.

As you wandered through the picturesque garden, marvelling at the vibrant colours of the flowers, you inadvertently caught the eye of a stranger who happened to be nearby. Your beauty, accentuated by the mark on your forehead, captivated the attention of this mysterious figure. What intrigued him even more was the unmistakable childlike innocence reflected in your eyes.

From a distance, he observed you with awe. The way you carried yourself, the genuine delight on your face as you admired the flowers and scenery—it all conveyed a sense of authenticity. Unlike anyone he had encountered, you seemed untouched by pretentiousness or spoiled airs.

Driven by an unexplainable urge to get closer, the stranger slowly made his way towards you, navigating through the enchanting garden. His curiosity was piqued, and he couldn't resist the desire to learn more about the intriguing woman who had captured his attention.

Unaware of the approaching figure as you immersed yourself in the beauty of the flowers, a clearing of the throat behind you signalled his presence. Eunsook, recognising the newcomer, widened her eyes and began to bow, but he gestured for her to remain silent with a finger against his lips and a subtle shake of his head.

Interrupting the tranquillity, the unexpected deep voice spoke, "It's beautiful, isn't it? Do you know what cherry blossoms symbolise?"

Startled, you turned to find a handsome man dressed elegantly, smiling down at you. After a moment of surprise, you nodded, "I do. I've read that they symbolise purity and beauty."

The man acknowledged, "That's right, much like you, my lady."

Concern flickered in the head maid's eyes, realising that the stranger might be unaware of your identity and possibly attempting to make a romantic gesture. Before matters could escalate, she decided to intervene, "Allow me to express our deepest respect, Your Highness. This is Lady Park, the esteemed wife of General Park. Mistress, may I present to you Prince Yeosang."

« Preview of Part 12 »

Seonghwa's eyes widened as they approached the War and Strategy Department building, where soldiers were marching about hastily, "Wait a minute, don't tell me—"

The royal secretary had no time to explain as he pulled the general into the meeting room where all military officials were seated and awaiting anxiously. The King, positioned in the middle of the room, sighed deeply upon noticing your husband's arrival.

"You're here, General Park. Is your wife also in the palace?" His Majesty asked, rubbing his head to alleviate an oncoming headache.

Seonghwa nodded in confirmation and inquired, "Yes, she is. She's waiting by the cherry blossom garden as we speak. Now, tell me. What is it? What has happened?"

With regret in his eyes, the King grimaced, "I'm so sorry, my boy. It seems your wedding will have to wait. Relations with the neighbouring nation, Ruhon, have not been very good lately. I fear war is inevitable this time, and... we need you."

Just wanted to make it clear that Ruhon is a fictional country. I've thought about it and decided it's probably best not to use real places for fear of offending anyone.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[uniivrz]

mic'd up

katie mccabe x reader

+ summary: reader, still on the acl squad, has been approached by the arsenal media staff asking if she'd go mic'd up in the stands for one of arsenal's games.

+ warnings: ACL injury mentions right off the bat. swearing. made up game (arsenal v tottenham). reader really embracing the WAG life.

a/n: i came across a video of katie during one of the covid matches, and due to the empty stadium you could hear everything she said— and that's where i got this idea :) my first post, hope you enjoy!

like any other football player, you hated the dreaded three letters that would take whoever was the unlucky soul out of the game for a long while.

of course it had always been a fear in the back of your mind, you just never thought it would actually happen to you.

that day you went down on the pitch had been one of the worst. not just for you, but for katie as well as the rest of your arsenal team.

everything had been fine. arsenal was up by two, and half time had just ended. it was around the 52nd minute, when a purposely bad tackle from a chelsea player left you on the ground, clutching your knee as you attempted to keep the tears at bay. (only to fail).

some time later you were holed up in one of the physio rooms of the stadium, when katie came in, the look on your face confirming her worst fear.

honestly, it was getting quite scary how many arsenal players were getting ACL injuries.

she had been by your side for all of it, constantly making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed, as well as driving you to and from appointments.

the downside meant you weren't able to travel with the team for away games, forcing yourself to be holed up in your flat you shared with katie— often inviting the rest of the ACL squad over to watch the game together, knowing you'd be insufferable on your own.

luckily for you, today was a home game. you woke up before katie that morning, hobbling down the stairs on your good leg, (and nearly eating shit in the process), you'd prepared her a proper breakfast, consisting of pancakes, bacon, & eggs.

the brunette soon appeared in the kitchen behind your unsuspecting frame, an adoring smile crossing her face at the sight of you lightly nodding your head to whatever song came from the speaker on the marble counter.

nearly jumping out of your skin at the feeling of two strong arms wrapping around your waist, your body relaxed as you registered the familiar feeling of katie, her arms clad in her arsenal training jacket.

you leaned into her touch as you finished up with the bacon, her thick irish accent rang through your ears as her nose brushed against your neck gently. "you should not be on your feet,"

rolling your eyes fondly, you forced yourself to suppress a smile. ever since your injury, katie had been treating you as if you were a porcelain doll— going to break at the slightest touch.

while sometimes it became a little overbearing, it warmed your heart for her to be this protecting with you, and you wouldn't trade it for the world.

"i was cleared to walk without my crutches, katie," your giggled, relishing in the ticklish feeling of her light breathing against the back of your neck.

"still. ya should have waited for me." she murmured. "i could have carried you down here."

you rolled your eyes once again.

for the first few weeks/months of your injury, she had insisted on carrying you everywhere. from the bed to downstairs, from the front door to the car. no matter where it was— she wanted to carry you. wether it was bridal style, your legs wrapped around her waist, or giving you a piggy back, she didn't care.

after breakfast was finished, you rushed back up to change. you settled on one of katie's hoodie's, along with her jersey which you threw on top, and a pair of her sweatpants. nearly everything you wore was hers.

when you'd returned downstairs, she grinned widely at the sight of you dressed in her attire, and couldn't restrain herself from letting her hands roam your body as you shoved your feet into some sneakers.

"oi hands off, mccabe."

the ireland captain chuckled, tapping your rear end before you stood back up, sending you a cheeky wink when you glared at her.

arriving at the emirates with your personal chauffeur, the two of you made your way through the grounds, greeting any staff members you'd passed by and waving to the media staff as you each made your way toward your separate destinations.

you had a brief session with a physio to assure everything was still fine and dandy with your knee, whereas katie was heading off toward the locker room with the others.

as you left your meeting 15-ish minutes later, you had been wandering the halls when you were stopped by one of the media staff, claiming they had a task for you.

since you were going to be in the stands again, they had asked if you would go mic'd up, thinking it'd be a fun video idea for arsenal's youtube channel.

you agreed quickly, thrilled at the idea. they had informed you that there would be a camera a little ways away from you, to capture your reactions in both your voice as well as your actions.

one of the members clipped a small square microphone device to the collar of your (katie's) jersey, as another member held a camera and recorded your actions.

Youtube

Y/N L/N MIC'D UP • ARSENAL V TOTTENHAM

Arsenal 578K views 6:38

0:00

[Camera fades in from black to show you, stood in one of the many corridors of the Emirates Stadium.]

grinning, you gripped your shirt and pulled it closer, "we've got mccabe! katie mccabe! can you hear me?" you asked, looking into the camera that was recording you.

[Laughter is heard around you before the scene cuts and fades into a brief black screen. When it returns, the camera is unfocused, going in an out before focusing on you, looking at the camera as you don't realize it's recording.]

"is it going?" you asked with a dopey smile, the cameraman behind you nodding. "right. hi, i'm y/n l/n and today i'll be mic'd up as i watch tonight's game." you giggle, pointing at the microphone clipped to your shirt before you make your way toward your seat.

[Camera follows you down the hall before cutting to you sat with Beth, Viv, and Leah, the former two sat in the row below you. You pull a small, barely noticeable box out of your pocket. The camera zooms in on your hand, revealing the box is actually a miniature uno deck.]

"i know how we can pass the time," you grin micheviously.

0:45

[Camera cuts to the four of you playing uno, Beth and Viv swiveled in their seats to face you and Leah above them. It catches Leah attempting to peek at your cards before you shove her head away, the scene then switching to a new clip of the four women arguing.]

"absolutely not, beth cheated!" leah yells, hands dropping dramatically onto her thighs with a loud smack.

"you fucking wish! you just suck williamson!"

[Viv is seen trying to keep the peace as you laugh loudly, the four of you gaining looks from surrounding match watchers— only for them to look away at the sight of four of arsenal's own. Your laughter becomes louder as Leah slams her tiny cards aggressively onto your thigh, folding her arms and leaning back in her chair with a pout.]

"oh, cheer up captain," you pout mockingly, reaching to pinch her cheeks between your fingers.

1:02

[Camera cuts to the teams walkout, briefly showing Katie McCabe before turning back to you, a large grin on your face, never failing to leave.]

"that's my girl!" you shout, hands cupped around your mouth to make yourself louder. "let's go number fifteen!"

1:39

[Cuts to you leaned back in your seat with your arms folded. An amused look is on your face as you shake your head. Camera pans to the big screen as Katie's name is shown, a yellow card next to it.]

"it's been like thirty minutes and she already has a card," you giggle to yourself before sighing fondly, a gentle smile on your face. "that's my girl."

2:06

[Different camera shows Katie sliding her foot in front of a Tottenham player, successfully and cleanly retrieving the ball from her feet before panning to you with your elbows propped up on your knees, head resting in your hands.]

"oh my god, she's so hot." you sighed absentmindedly, momentarily forgetting about those surrounding you and the microphone attached to your collar.

[Beside you, Leah bursts out laughing, the sound picking up through your mic as the blonde discretely turning to the cameraman who has now directed it toward her, pointing at you before fake wretching.]

3:21

[Camera shows you jumping up out of your seat, annoyance clear on your face as your hands are perched on your hips.]

"oh, come the fuck on! that's so clearly a foul!"

4:38

[During halftime, the camera follows as the four of you briefly leave your seats to join the girls in the locker room. The cameraman does not enter, only filming the door, however you can be heard from inside.]

"north london is what?!"

"north london is red!" an irish voice answers you.

"hell yeah it is!" you reply, then followed by the sound of palms smacking against each other.

another voice cuts in, "alright, simmer down you two!"

"oi! put her down, she's fragile!"

4:50

[Camera cuts to you stood with your hands on Katie's shoulders, giving her your usual half time pep talk, brushing stray fly-aways out of her face as she smiles at you. The sound is cut off, so the viewers can only see the motion of both players' lips moving as you speak to each other, the final thing being Katie moving toward you, scenes changing just before any PDA is shown.]

5:47

[Camera pans from Katie running around the pitch celebrating, arms in the air and then back to you, the four Arsenal players chanting together, you being the loudest and most enthusiastic of the four.]

"we've got mccabe! katie mccabe! i just don't think you understand! she plays out on the wing! she hits it with a zing! we've got katie mccabe!"

6:25

[Video closes out with you and Katie stood outside of the stadium, her arm wrapped around your shoulder as you do the outro.]

"that was me mic'd up, i hope i was entertaining enough for you all. thanks for watching." you grin shyly, waving with both hands. "leave a comment if you think katie should get mic'd up next."

[Katie laughs before kissing your cheek affectionately, the brunette waving bye with her free hand before the video fades to black.]

Instagram Posts

ynln

Liked by victoriapelova and 51,094 others

ynln Watch me go Mic'd Up as I watch Arsenal Women's recent match against Tottenham!

Video is out now on the Arsenal Youtube Channel and the Arsenal Instagram Account!

— view all comments

katie_mccabe11 It's a good one 😉

⤿ bethmead_ We know why you think that 🙄

username petition to get yn mic'd up again, sign here

⤿ username signed

⤿ username signed

⤿ ynln signed

leahwilliamson Alternate title, YN thirsting over Katie for 6 minutes straight 🤢

⤿ katie_mccabe11 Jealous are we, Williamson?

Twitter/X

ynsmccabe that new video arsenal posted of y/n l/n is now my favorite thing

⤿ the clip of her and katie in the hall OMG

⤿ mccardlover no because they literally the only couple ever

⤿ meadema99 leah getting upset over beth cheating in uno after she literally tried to look at y/n's cards 😭😭

username pls the amount of bleeps they had to add to this video because of yn 😭

⤿ username never heard someone curse so many times in 6 minutes

katiespelova oh i need more mic'd up videos with the rest of the team now

username if my relationship isn't like katie's and yn's i don't want it

[bad268]

omg im obsessed with your work! could i please request kimi antonelli and a reader who is just kind of sad and cries a lot? or just like some general comfort? xx

Strawberry Margarita Mix (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Menstruating! Reader)

Clingy Antonelli Universe

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (Also, combined this with #3, Figure Skating Anon <3 I love both of you and I hope yall don't mind I made this part of Clingy Antonelli)

Warnings: Menstruating reader, midol mentioned, aged up Kimi

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1430

Summary: The reader's period makes them a little emotional, but Kimi knows the trick.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

It didn’t happen a lot, but whenever you were the clingy one, it meant everything was wrong and the world was gonna end. It was usually only a problem when you didn’t feel good, which was rare. The other common reason occurred every month like clockwork. Your period was one of the worst things you could experience, and it was always a role reversal for you and Kimi. 

He was usually the clingy one, but during your monthly hell week, your level of cling outweighed him easily. It sucked when he had a race, but the summer break was one of the few times you did not have to worry about being separated for races or the like. He made it very clear to any team he signed with that there was always one week a month that he would not be coming in for anything unless it was absolutely necessary. Mercedes was no exception.

Granted they knew about you since you and Kimi had been dating for as long as they could remember, but when he got signed to the F1 team, they continued their original agreement. 

And that’s where you were now. 

You were supposed to be on a boat somewhere in the Maldives, but no. You were curled up in your room, crying because you ran out of strawberry margarita mix. You may have been completely miserable, but you wanted to at least pretend you were on vacation, and when you saw the mix was gone from the last time you wanted to get into the vacation vibe, you just cried.

“I can get you more, amour (love),” Kimi comforted as he wrapped you in his arms, trying and failing to keep the smile off his face. He really wanted to take you seriously, but this was the seventh time you cried today.

The first was because you couldn’t find the remote. Then it was the sunrise was so pretty, it brought tears to your eyes. Then the water was too cold when you took a bath. That was Kimi’s fault, and he apologized. Next, you accidentally stained your favorite pair of sweatpants which were actually Kimi’s, and your throw blanket. You had two separate episodes from that. One because you stained the paints and blanket, and another one because you didn't want to do laundry. Lastly, you cried because you felt like you were missing out.  

This vacation in the Maldives had been planned with a group of your friends, and seeing their posts on Instagram made you feel like you were missing out. However, a small part of you also knew you would be miserable in the Maldives too. You’d rather subject Kimi to your moodiness rather than your entire friend group, but you were experiencing some major FOMO.

Then Kimi had the incredible idea of doing similar things at your apartment like drinking margaritas and tanning, and you planned to go to a beach later in the week. It sounded like a great plan at first, but as soon as you saw there was no strawberry margarita mix, it felt like the end of the world.

“No,” You wined as you hid in his chest. You wanted to stop the tears, but it was harder said than done.”I wanted strawberry margaritas.”

“We have classic lime. Does that work until we can get more?” Kimi tried to offer as he swayed you two back and forth and ran his fingers along your back in a comforting manner. 

“No,” You dragged out again with more tears as you sort of melted in his arms to sit on the ground in the fetal position. You weren’t crying about the margarita mix anymore. Your cramps started flaring up and the last thing you wanted to do was stand. “I hate this.”

I know you do amour (love),” Kimi consoled as he sat on the kitchen floor beside you as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He also snaked his hand between your thighs and stomach to place his hand on your tummy as a makeshift heat pack for the time being. “I know it hurts now, but you’ll get through this. You’re the strongest person I know, and I know you always prove to be stronger each and every month.”

“I don’t feel very strong,” You muttered as you turned to bury your face in his neck, inhaling his calming scent. “Why does it always have to be so painful?”

“How about this?” Kimi starts, He moves his arm from your shoulders to hold your chin, forcing you to look at him. He gently whipped away the stray tears from your cheeks before placing a light kiss to your lips. “I think you just need some pampering and cuddles, so why don’t we go and watch a movie in our room? We can have all of the snacks you want, and if you’re feeling up for it, we can go out for your favorite pasta later. How does that sound?”

“I think that sounds like heaven,” You sighed as you leaned into his hand.

“Good, you go get comfy, and I’ll grab anything and everything you could want,” Kimi left one last kiss on your nose before standing, holding his hand out to help you up as well. 

“Except the margarita mix?” You joked lightly when you stood up, smirking at Kimi as you teased.

“Except for the margarita mix,” Kimi sighed with a small smile. “Now, go before I leave you in the bed all alone.”

“No!” You shouted as you immediately clung to his arm as tears sprung into your eyes again., “Don’t say that!”

“I’m kidding amour (love),” Kimi chuckled as he kissed your forehead before looking back at you. “I promise, I’ll be in our room in like 5 minutes. You go pick a show or movie, and I’ll get all of the snacks for you. I’ll also get your hot water bottle. Let me handle all of it while you get comfy.”

Begrudgingly, you left his side to go take a quick shower to wash off before putting on a new t-shirt and sweatpants, taking care of your products as well. Then you set up in bed. You laid out a towel on our bed just in case a leak happened again before you got comfortable under your comforter and loaded up Netflix. You went to your comfort movie/show and prompted it up for when Kimi came in. Speaking of Kimi, it had definitely been more than five minutes. You gave him a couple extra minutes, thinking he lost track of time, but it didn't take long for him to walk in the room with everything. 

Every comfort snack, drink, candy, and ice cream you had ever mentioned. He had everything for you. He also had a glass in his hand, but you couldn’t see what it was. You assumed it was your comfort drink already poured out. He set all of the snacks around the bed before setting your Stanley cup on your bedside table beside a couple of Midols. He always put water in it and encouraged you to stay hydrated. Then, he put the glass in your hand.

“Thank you, baby,” You said as you took a drink from the glass and immediately made a shocked face. “Strawberry margarita?”

“Don’t be so shocked,” Kimi chuckled as he sat next to you under the covers. “It was pretty easy when you can get things delivered. I have us stocked for a while, so any time you want a margarita, you let me know.”

“Not just any margarita, Kimi,” You graned as you leaned into his side, “A strawberry margarita.”

“Oh, my bad,” He teased back as he played the movie/show. This was what you needed. Just to be held by him. That’s all you wanted and needed in this moment. It was like as soon as he wrapped his arms around you, you were gone. You snacked a little on what was around you, but honestly, crying took a lot out of you. You were ready to just collapse for the next week. You didn’t want to yet, though. You still had one more thing you wanted to say. 

“Kimi,” You whispered as you looked up at him from your place on his chest. He hummed in response, almost asleep but not totally gone yet. “Thank you for putting up with me. Ti amo (I love you).”

“Ti amo di più, mia vita (I love you more, my life),” He whispered back, pulling you tighter against his chest. “Sempre (Always).”

~~~

Part 4 ->

Series masterlist

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[cheriladycl01]

I'm not scared! Colby Brock x MotoGPDriver! Reader Part 1

Plot: You made a tweet about Sam and Colby and were in a podcast and they brought up Sam and Colby where you talked about the paranormal and how it doesn't really scare you because you drive motorcycles at over 200mph.

A/N: This has been sat in my drafts for a while coz i was kinda scared to post it, coz its a new reach of people I'm looking for.

It started off with a silly little tweet you'd made in the summer break when you werent racing. You didn't feel like watching old F1 or MotoGP races and there was no movie that immedielty came to mind.

So you scrolled through youtube. At first it was a documentary about the ocean, and you had to switch it out. Which is how you came across a channel called Sam and Colby, two American boys who... well you didn't actually think they had a 'thing:

Your YouTube consisted solely of vlogs and car/bike videos that you did. That was your niche. However these two didn't seem to have a specific niche, you perused them seeing that they vlogged and did challenges and prank video and even back in the day were part of vine.

The most recent things they'd been sticking too by the looks of things were these paranormal investigations. They went to these haunted places with cool gear and filmed the experience. You were very intruiged as the paranormal was something you'd believed in just never interacted with.

After watching them bring people on, and be scared shitless you knew you'd boss something like this.

You were alone in your house, drinking which is where the tweet actually came from.

There was a lot of action from both fans of motorsport and YouTube fans. You of course got some hate from the tweet from the YouTube side and hence started the fued between your fans and Colby and Sam fans.

It wasn't until the podcast you went on that the duo took notice of you.

"So today I'm here in the studio with Y/N, now this I think is an intertsing podcast for both of us, because you've only been on Motorsport related ones so far correct?"

"Yes" you smile nodding. You'd actually been on a few podcasts as you really enjoyed talking to people and hearing their stories and being able to talk about your own experiences and hardships.

You started of with the generic motorsport questions, that were all angled at you being a woman in motorsport. Which you enjoyed as you knew getting to the position you had now was a hard hard feat you managed to overcome.

He then got onto more general questions about you life, which again you were happy to answer.

"I do have something that people asked me to ask when we first annouced you here and that was about the tweet with Sam and Colby?" he says looking to his notepad making sure he was keeping in his order.

"Mmmm, what about it?" you smile knowing this was going to be a thing.

"So you basically said along the lines of, if you were in a Sam and Colby video that you wouldn't be scared, why is that?" he asks tilting his head to the side.

"Well, not much scares me when i drive motorbikes at roughly 250 kmph. You know, I've come off those bikes and had my life flash before my eyes as I go into the barrier. One of my worst crashes nearly killed me, but I got back on the bike, one I healed and I won my first race back in Lusial. As part of the Red Bull family I've helped them with some crazy challanges, beat Max Verstappen in an F1 car and lots more. So i think it would genuinely take a lot to scare me!" you smile explaining your thought process behind your tweet and how you think you'd genuinely react.

"So I'm guessing you'd be like down to collab with them at some point!" he asks.

"Yeah of course, I know these things take time to plan so obviously you know with both our busy schedules it probably wouldn't be anytime soon, but you never know!" you grin and after a few more questions before the podcast ends.

It was around a week later, you were in your home gym getting some weight training in when a message dings up. You stop the current exercise your doing to check it.

It was an instagram DM from the Sam and Colby official account. You click on the notification to go onto the chat to look at what they'd messaged you.

Of course you immedielty replied. You exchanged numbers with both the boy's before Colby made a group chat asking when you were free.

It was harder to find times than you expected, the next time you all would be free was during your winter break from racing. Which was risky to confirm anything, especially to their fans as anything could happen to you in that time.

You agreed on a date and time to tell your fans.

The next step was you inviting them to a race weekend, you wanted to meet them but obviously didn't have much time between races. So you invited them to your home race at Silverstone in the United Kingdom.

They decided to make it a whole thing, where they explored some haunted places across England after coming to see you at your race.

You decided to meet them at the airport first and you couldn't hold in your nerves to meet them, you never had the best people skills which is probably why you went into the career path that you did.

You waited for them in the arrivals area, it wasn't too busy due to the time of the day, just a few business men in suits. You looked around for a board to see when their plane had landed, but could find one.

"Y/N?" you hear from behind you.

A/N: I don't know what the fandom's like on here, but I just like writing about cool situations that help with writers block for writing my book! If you follow me for F1 and General Motorsports this is me branching out my writing into another hyper fixation of mine that’s been around for a while!

[yvesdot]

How To Get Roughly 50 Notes On An Original Writing Post And Possibly Net A Single Reader

I had someone ask today how I get people to click through and read my writing, and I'm realizing that I've never actually made a post all in one place of everything I do to get a new piece of short fiction off the ground... so here you go! How to get (some) eyes on your work, even if it is not published anywhere of interest and you don't have a marketing team behind you.

The #1 thing is presentation. You want to get people's attention, and once you have it, convince them to keep paying attention. Fortunately, people tend to be both reasonable and predictable, which means all you have to do is follow The Formula.

(original post link)

Here's the formula from the above post broken down:

[giant horizontal title card, preferably animated to catch the eye] OR [a few tasteful parallels, if you're good at parallel posts]

TITLE (linked to where you can read the piece) / wordcount

a quote that is representative of the tone, themes, prose style, and/or the "promise of the premise"

A longer pitch, featuring the overall subject of the piece (transsexual reality TV drama), any comp titles (Detransition, Baby), the main draw (in this case, watching trans people be awful to clueless cis people), major themes (performance), and any other promises you'd like to make (food romance and tigers). You can see that the quote I chose delivers on the promise of trans people intellectually outperforming cis people-- if I were a reader, I would be more likely to trust that the rest of the pitch was accurate based on that assurance.

If you have any positive reviews on your piece, say so. If it has won any awards or contests, say so. If your work has made people cry, Doja Cat - Say So. Always. Generally speaking, more personal and more detailed is better, but keep it to one or two people-- e.g. "when I gave this to my S/O to read he shot milk out of his nose so far I had to go clean under the couch" or "my favorite review of this piece is the reader who said they read it chapter-by-chapter under their covers because they wanted it all to themself." This should be one sentence.

Depending on where the story is published, what you usually promote, etc., it may be worthwhile saying the story is free. Use your judgment on whether the reader can tell.

I also like putting my links at the bottom so someone seeing this on a friend's dash can easily track me around the 'Net. They make me look more professional (I now include a link to my website) and they visually balance the post, in my opinion. This post also happened to have some additional links for bonus content.

This is not as high stakes as it seems. I'm not 100% happy with the pitch here, and I'm not 100% happy with the graphics I've used in other cases. These are some bones that help to sell the piece even when the details aren't as sharp.

REBLOGGING

When is the last time you read something the first time you saw it on your dash? I schedule reblogs of all important posts at least twice over the next 2-3 days, often three times so I can get the morning/afternoon/evening reblog. If your followers tend to be more active at certain times, go ahead and use those. In the past I've intentionally scheduled posts for times I knew more popular mutuals were active, and it has paid off!

I also schedule a reblog for a week and a month and sometimes even a full calendar year out, because I know there is going to be that person who tags the piece '#to read' and instantly forgets about it, only to get excited when they see it weeks later. I am very often that reader. The goal is to catch people when they're ready to read immediately, and this is a game of chance.

Every so often, I go through my entire #writing or #important writing updates or even just #popular tag(s) and queue two dozen posts before shuffling my queue to redistribute matters. This keeps my older work circulating, ensuring new readers get a chance to see older pieces and giving those older pieces another shot at dashboard space. (More on #popular later.) This sounds like a lot, which is why you have to space everything pretty far apart. Fortunately, this is the world's best site for cool things to reblog. I guarantee you that you can find something new you love to post in the meanwhile.

COPING WITH FAME

The post above is what I, a published author, consider "doing well" for a post about my writing on Tumblr. As of October 10th, 2024, over two years after its initial posting and over five years into my posting doggedly about my original fiction, it has 77 notes. More than half (43) are likes. Around half of the reblogs are me promoting my own work or the same very sweet person dutifully reblogging me every time I do so. Glancing through the reblogs now, I know of four people whom I can confirm have read it. Presumably, there are more who are completely silent and have never interacted with the post whatsoever. Genuinely: wahoo!! I am so grateful and happy for the attention and reception of my work.

This is the number one thing I suggest: focus on what you have, and not what you lack. Imagine your post from the perspective of an outsider: even one reblog means you convinced that one person to spread your art! How cool is that! This is also good advice because moping is simply not helpful; it will not get you more reads. (And no, neither will guilting others. Kill that vent post in your head!)

GETTING FOLLOWERS

I don't have that many followers. Of the followers I do have, people are very unpredictably active. When I hear about other people's follower counts I am consistently surprised, because people with half of mine will have fans and haters the likes of which I could not possibly dream of. I follow 500-follower folk who post "I ate a strawberry today" and get 6 asks ranging from "Wow I respect you so much for eating that strawberry" to "I'm going to come to your address at [REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED] and shove bananas down your throat for hating on my favorite fruit."

I point this out to establish three important things. 1) Be grateful for what you have (in my case, 0 anonymous hate asks about fruitpinions), 2) followers have far less impact on interaction than one might think, and 3) followers don't engage with the things you might like them to.

Think about yourself. Are you more likely to reblog a photo of a cat in a pumpkin (alright, here) or something advertising fifteen minutes' worth of writing, which could be, for all you know, bad? Or, for that matter, by a person you should not like to support? Reblogs on generically interesting things are 'safer' (unfortunately) than reblogs on art, and it makes perfect sense that people are skittish around the latter. People don't often reblog things they haven't read, and nobody can reblog every artpost on their dash. Having someone else put it there, however, is incredibly powerful—someone's vetted this post as Worth a Reblog, after all. Having more followers allows for much more of this.

(Followers don't guarantee any one sort of interaction, but having more of them is rarely bad. Rarely.)

Across my most popular posts, one theme becomes very obvious: people like things that apply to them or their blog. I try to post writing advice/opinions/memes every so often, because I know I have a loyal base of writerfolk who like to see that from me, and it's "easier" to reblog than my writing. This is simply the nature of the universe. I used to pretty frequently go into the #writeblr tag and check out what was recently popular so I could figure out how to serve the same base, and from time to time it worked.

You're welcome to examine the list of #writing posts that made it to 100 notes, because each tends to have a notable reason behind its success: a reblog with an exceptionally good review, a contest win, a wordcount that lends itself to pasting the whole thing in one go.

(Posts about my book's release are a notable exception, in part due to Blaze and in part due to my absolutely relentless flogging of their reblog buttons during the ~year of promotion. Also in large part to a dedicated circle of friends who passed the post around nonstop! Thank you so much!!)

A lot of people will tell you to attempt covert reciprocal promotion. You know—reblog a lot of stuff, in the hopes that people will reblog yours. If I could change one thing on Tumblr, it would be this: the culture that quietly encourages disingenously interacting with other people with a secret True Goal in mind. (On the autism website.)

Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, do not do this. If you comment on other people's work, do it because you're happy to do so. When I released Paper Tigress, I went through everybody else who responded to the same prompt and read their work, because I had the day off and I was curious. This has led to Paper Tigress having more comments on Reedsy than one of my contest winners, and even outranking the shortlisted story in the same prompt category. However, this would have been a waste of my time if I did not genuinely enjoy reading the other stories. I read 80+ stories, taking several hours, and gained 30 comments from the venture (half my comments are my responses).

Crucially, I do not promote other writers' work on Tumblr in the hopes of them reading or boosting mine. This is the #1 tip I see thrown around that I viscerally disagree with. While, again, I am grateful for engagement with my work regardless of the context, I do not want people suffering through my work in the hopes that I will promote them. I work a full-time job, and my reading calendar is perpetually overbooked, including with work by my absolute best of friends. Even if it wasn't, I think it would be quite insulting if I were posting works in the hopes that someone would choke it down like medicine. I post what I think is good so that people can read and enjoy it. If you are not enjoying it, I do not want you to feel as though you have to read it. My aim is to give to others what my favorite authors have given me, which is most certainly not A Bad Time Spent Being Dishonest In The Hopes Of Getting Something Back. You have better things to do with your time. Please be honest.

CONCLUSION

Realistically, the readers I have, I gained through being a published author for five years promoting my behind off on Tumblr, the least forgiving social media for promotion. People like it when you have a book they can buy, especially if it has Goodreads reviews that make it look like you have been vetted for them. Many people who follow me have read only Something's Not Right and nothing else. (Many people who follow me have read everything but Something's Not Right.) I have posted dozens of pieces on Tumblr and Wattpad (and AO3). I gained a small number of readers writing and posting fanfiction for the Locked Tomb Tri(?)logy, even though I marketed it absolutely terribly.

Just keep writing. Keep writing, keep posting, and keep making sure everyone who follows you knows you write. And keep writing because you want to. There's no better advice than that.

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Grand Line Crew Modern Au Gang!

i hope yall enjoy, this took a while to get all together, here

ASL post

East Blue Crew post

Friends we made along the way 1 post

Friends we made along the way 2 post

i dont have many additional headcanons for this lot, but i did write a short story with them :) enjoy

Brook only wears the absolute grooviest of clothing at all times.

Brook only wears the absolute grooviest of clothing at all times.

Brook only wears the absolute grooviest of clothing at all times.

That’s just gonna have to be there 👆 tumblr likes to glitch out my posts.

Dont give chopper caffeine. He’ll either have a heart attack or operate on 5x speed, its a gamble every time.

robin and franky love watching home improvement shows, house hunters, how its made, myth busters, and other technical shows together.

When Luffy shows robin memes on his phone, she takes out her reading glasses and holds the phone like a mom does. Ya know that squint. You know.

Jinbei used to be a trucker and had a convoy with s bunch of his truckin’ buddies. They had matching leather jackets with “the sun truckers” embroidered on the back

Franky has a wig closet. It is vast. If you went in there you'd think you were in Narnia or something

Chopper is BEYOND CONVINCED that Sabo is a vampire.

One day, sabo volunteered as an assistant in a medical class chopper was taking. He was acting as chopper’s patient as he was learning the patient procedures of a checkup.

It was all going fine, chopper got all the patient identification out of the way and next was to acquire blood pressure, breath count, and heart rate. But the stethoscope and pressure monitor wasn’t working, and it make it seem like Sabo,,, didnt have a pumping heart,, or blood,,, or really breathed at all(he doesnt take very visible breaths).

Chopper was stricken with fear at this and assumed the absolute worse as he looked in horror at Sabo’s naturally pale complexion and long canine teeth. Chopper simply jotted down the average count of each recording instead of getting new equipment, and tried not to think about it, but

“huh, all of those numbers are usually lower than that. Maybe all that Special Concoction™ i drink is finally catching up to my heart rate.”

“how much have you.. drunk?”

“like for today? Or since I woke up.”

Chopper is fucking horrified. Sabo woke up to being a vampire and drinks blood as a special concoction. He cannot believe this.

”Never mind, I don't need to know, its all normal, you're normal.”

“Wow… that's the first time a medical practitioner has called me normal. My brothers are gonna get a real kick outta this.”

CHOPPER IS FUCKING HORRIFIED. HE HAS BRETHEREN??? Chopper just keeps his head down and finishes up the check up practice as Sabo remarks he has another class in the blood bank, which was lemon in the paper cut for chopper.

For a month or so after that day, Chopper didn’t see Sabo at all, and he forgot about his fear for a little while. However one night as chopper was hanging with Luffy and a few others in the straw hat friend group, there was a knock at the door. Chopper happily said “I’ll get it~” as the rest of the group continued in conversation.

Chopper skips over to the door and when he opens it, he sees the figure of Sabo standing in front of him. Tall and opposing, smiling a big toothy grin with bright blue eyes shining from the overhead lighting. He’s wearing a long trench coat with the collar popped and an ascot was wrapped around his neck.

What chopper was seeing before him.

Was the vampire.

He let out a scream right out of a horror film and promptly fainted.

A minute or two later, he awoke laying on the couch, feet elevated and vest unbuttoned, to his friends looking at him from the foot of the couch.

He goes to stand up, but a strong gloved hand stops his movement and guides him back down

“Don't get up too quickly, little man.”

Chopper looked next to him and saw The Vampire. What was he doing in his house?!?!?

“Are you alright, bud? You opened the door for me, screamed in my face, and then passed out.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Chopper said with the highest voice-crack to word ratio in his entire life.

“Right. Well again, dont get up too quickly, if you need water or anything let your friends know. I just came here to pick up Luffy cuz some family stuff came up. Have a good night!”

“…you too, and thanks for taking care of me…”

“No prob!”

“One last question?” Inquired chopper.

“What's up?”

“Did someone invite you in?”

the end

PS: Sabo's "special concoction" consists of Red Bull and Espresso. He hasn't slept in 72 hours. This will have lasting effects on his health.

thats all for now! thanks for reading~

[wonderlandwalker]

Adventure Unlocked | Eddie Munson x Reader

Stranger Things Masterlist / Inbox

Summary: You unexpectedly figure out a new kink Eddie has and plan the perfect moment to test it out

Content Warnings / Tags: Smut, 18+, porn with very little plot, PnV

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Once again not proofread but I haven't had much time to write recently so still wanted to post this. Got the idea from a request @urhoneycombwitch read and couldn't get it out of my head so here's my take on it.

It was supposed to be just another day at Eddie's trailer, a study date like the two of you regularly had, where you would try and catch up on reading and Eddie would do anything but. Except dates with Eddie were rarely like they were supposed to be, and today wasnt an exception. He was sitting at his desk, working on a new campaign while you sat at the bed with your books spread out, trying to concentrate but inevitably reading the same paragraph over and over again.

“Can you hand me the folder from the nightstand please?” You weren’t listening, not really anyway, only humming in respone, causing him to call out once more.

“Sweetheart, hand me the notes.” He was more assertive now, his tone of voice deeper in order to capture your attention, and it worked. 

“Yes sir.” It was meant as a quip, as banter the two of you were so used to, but Eddie’s head shot up the moment you said it. You noticed the blush creeping up on his neck as his mouth was slightly opened, eyes staring into yours. And just as quickly as it had happened, it was gone. A small cough to recover his composure and his focus back on his writing, but you still caught his glance everytime he looked in your direction, still noticed the manner in which he fidgeting wirh his pen. You had noticed, and there was no turning back now.

"Eddie" he only hummed in response to your inquiry, not daring to make eye contact just yet

"Eddie, look at me" he was slow to comply, nervous about your response, because Eddie wasn't stupid, the cat was out of the bag now.

"Does that turn you on?" Still hesitant, he moved his head up once more, not realising how much closer You had gotten to him by now, but the moment he looked at you, all his worries disappeared, because your expression was soft, there was a twinkle in your eyes that he could only describe as exited, and the way your pupils were dilated told him he wasn't the only one into this.

"Yeah" it was barely a whisper, a confession he didn't think he'd be making, so delicately given because he knew you would never crush it. 

Just as you were leaning in to connect his lips with yours, the front door opened, and Wayne shouted to inform you he had gotten home from work, having picked up dinner for the three of you on his way, so you decided to put a pin in your new discovery. 

The next days came and went as the both of you were busy trying to keep up with life, and Eddie didnt push the subject, perhaps worried it was not something you were comfortable with, but little did he know he only needed to wait a little bit longer, because you had been planning. Planning the perfect moment to continue where the two of you had left off, and right now while you were at the hellfire club is where it all came together, 

He looked at the clock above the door and back to you, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

“Where is everyone else?” They were never late, always so eager to get started they wouldn’t dare miss anything.

“I told them we’re starting a bit later today” Your tone was nonchalant, and it threw him off further.

“Why would you tell them that?” He looked so cute while thinking so hard, trying to trace back the day to figure out what had warrented this.

“Because I have some other plans first.” You had pushed your chair back, walking over to where he was sitting.

“What are you talking about” He was still very much in the dark, not quite catching on to pitch in your voice dropping ever so slightly.

“Don’t you have a quest for me?” You were standing in front of him now, supporting yourself on the arm rests of his throne, he was getting flustered with how close you were, fidgeting from his clueless nature. 

“I didn’t prepare any new adventures.” He looked up into your eyes as you leaned down closer to whisper in his ear.

“I’m sure you can think of one, dungeon master.” You could feel his body shudder from how close you were, and as you leaned back you saw his pupils dilate. 

“Do you mean-”

“Yeah” That’s all it took for him to understand, because he immediately took the opportunity to capture your face in his hands and kiss you with all the might he had. You’re sure he could have simply kept doing that all night, but you had other plans. So you started to trail kisses down his neck, paying extra attention to the pulse point right underneath his ear that you knew made him grow weak every single time, he was putty in your hands, and that’s exactly how you liked it. 

After a little while you lowered yourself to your knees in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes. You could see him struggling to keep his eyes open as you palmed him through his trousers, already hard from the idea alone. He wasted no time in shimmying out of them as you tugged at the fabric, letting it pool around his ankles. 

You didnt waste any more time taking his dick into your hands, stroking him slowly as you watched his head fall back and hit the back of the chair, but that was the last thing on his mind right now.

“Baby please” it was closer to a whine then it was to a question, and it turned you on just the same. You looked up at him once more, the tension causing him to catch your gaze before you spoke.

“Why don’t you make me?” It was a challenge, one he wasnt about to turn down. It only took one more look into your eyes, seeing the calmth behind them, before he complied. He raked his hand through your hair, twisting it in order to get a grip as he pushed your head down towards where he needed you the most. You were more than happy to comply, using your tongue in a sloppy attempt to keep up with the rhythm in which he was pushing down your throat. Eddie’s size had always been hard to take, but with practise and patience you had gotten better at it, breathing through your nose now as he hit the back of your throat, causing a slight gag from you which in turn made him realised a loud moan of your name as he leaned back into his throne. 

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” It was sweet, how he could be so out of his mind and still remind you, still praising you.

His grip faltered and you took it as a sign to double your effort, taking him deeper until your nose nestled against his pelvic bone, making you gag against him. A borderline sinful moan left him at the feeling, and as you were about to prepare yourself for the feeling of his cum sliding down your throat, he pulled you off him. For a split second you wondered if something was wrong, but the moment you met his eyes and saw the raw lust radiating in them, you knew what was about to happen.

“I need to be inside of you sweetheart, sit on my lap” This was the Eddie you had been trying to lure out, and you wouldnt dare let him ask twice. 

So you got off your knees and as you stood up his hands found the backs of your thighs, pulling you into his lap. His mouth attached itself feverishly to your neck, sucking bruises you’re sure would be visible for days, not that you’d mind. His hands were everywhere now, roaming over your ass and finding their way underneath your shirt as he took your nipples between his fingers and tugged at them, causing you to arch your back, leaning further into him.

“Does that feel good baby” His tongue was still hot on your skin, and the question was muffled by your own body, not daring to lean away from him. All you could do was moan out his name, desperate for him to continue. But right after you did you felt a sting on your ass as one of Eddie’s hands was now massasiging the flesh and his other found its way under your chin, tilting your head to look at him.

“That’s not what you call me now is it.” His tone had dropped an octave, and it was driving you insanel. “I’m sorry.. sir” Immediatly a grin appeared on his face.

“Much better sweetheart.” he moved his head in order to be able to attach his lips to the upper part of your breasts, every once in a while using his teeth to nip at the flesh there. In the meantime his hands made their way back under your skirt, kneading your inner thighs as he inched closer and closer to where you needed him the most. 

“Tell me what you want.” 

“I want you to touch me.” He looked up from where his mouth had made its home, a gleam in his eye that you werent sure you should feel worried or excited, but it sent a thrill down your spine nonetheless.

“I’m already touching you.” 

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean, hm” His fingers trailed closer to your core as they slipped your underwear to the side, sliding over your folds, teasing you.

“You’re so wet for me already, is this where you need me honey” 

“Please-” He kissed you as one of his fingers entered you, his thumb tracing slow circles on your clit as he swallowed your moans.

“That’s it princess, think you can handle another?” You wanted to answer him, but all you could do was nod as he looked at you expextingly, reconnecting your lips in a searing kiss the moment he added another finger, crooking them and causing you to cling onto him, your nails leaving faint scratch marks on his shoulders.

But as the feeling started to build he removed his fingers from inside of you, not leaving you empty for long as you could feel his hard dick at your entrance, pushing all the way inside with one thrust. It always made you feel so full to have him inside of you, and this time was no exception, the way he was stretching you feeling so good.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well, perfect for me.” His breathing had become laboured, and the way he was already ruthlessly thrusting up in you you figured he wouldn’t be lasting long either. 

“Need you to cum for me sweetheart, think you can do that?” Once again all you could do was whine as your head rested on his shoulder, hoping he knew you well enough to know what you needed.

“Fucking you so good you can’t even talk anymore. Don’t you worry, I’ll take good care of you.” He found your mouth in a slow kiss, much different than the ones before, now he took his time, exploring with his tongue and silencing all the pleas that left you. The moment his long fingers found your clit you were a goner, all that built up tension and pleasure toppeling over as you came undone around him, your walls spasming and gripping him even tighter, etching Eddie towards his orgasm as well.

“Shit baby, where do you want me-”

“Inside, need you to cum inside of me” That’s what did him in, he didnt waste another second as he pushed his hips into you, his cum painting your walls as he let out more profanities. 

For a minute the two of you sat there, with him still inside of you as he traced gentle patterns onto your back with his fingertips, his face nestling into your hair as he basked in your presence.

“We’re definitely doing that again.” His matter of fact tone made you giggling, causing him to squeeze his arms around you in a tight hug

“Whatever you say, dungeon master” His eyes immediately grew dark again at the title, looking down at you with that glimmer you loved to see.

“Careful what you say sweetheart, I can go another round right now” Just as he was about to prove it to you, a series of loud knocks came from the door. “Why is the door locked, are you guys in there?” Dustins voice rang from the hallway, and Eddie started to get up in order to let them in.

You got up in order to move to the chair next to him, but just as you were about to sit down Eddie grabbed you by the hips as he sat down in his throne, positioning you to sit on his lap as you got started on today's session. As you were playing his cum started to drip out of you and onto his leg underneath your skirt, and from the way he started squirming you knew he noticed as well, telling you this definitely wasn’t over yet.

[schoenpepper]

All Sorts of Love

Intro: Kalim hasn't felt this kind of love before.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, proofread by quillbot, yandere, one google translated arab word

A/N: For that one anon I hope you like this because I have spiralled into "what kind of yandere would Kalim be" and boyyyy I tried. I don't like the ending too much though. But honestly I feel like even if he was yandere he'd still turn to Jamil, right? They're like overly codependent. Also had way too much fun with the colors.

Masterlist

Kalim knows what love is.

Growing up, he'd been surrounded by a lot—maybe too much of it. From his parents to his siblings, he was spoiled, adored, and loved. He used all that love and poured it into himself like a valve, letting it flow right back to the world from within his body. He loves the sun, the sky, and his family; he loves his friends, the sea, and the wind as it ruffles his hair when he's on a magic carpet ride. He loves you.

Because you're his friend too.

He looks at the page in his notebook. One hour into Trein's lecture, and it's void of actual notes—only your name, little chibi doodles of you, and little hearts surrounding everything. He thinks you're so cute. He's glad that you two are friends and that you're so close with him. He has lots of friends, but you're different. Because you're best friends, like Jamil!

(Jamil denies it sometimes, but he doesn't mind. Jamil is still the closest person to him, even after the whole inky disaster.)

The bell rings, and he sweeps everything from his desk right into his bag. Jamil has basketball practice today, so hey, maybe he can hang out with you! You like hanging out with him, right? A happy tune is on his lips as he walks out of the classroom, his feet leading him towards the first years' classes. Your dismissal for this class was about thirty minutes later than his own, so he sits down on a bench and sways his feet, waiting patiently.

(He memorized your schedule so you guys can hang out more!)

He can't do much while waiting, except for playing on his phone. He sees a picture you'd posted on Magicam yesterday and clicks the like button—it's of the two of you, so he comments with a 'WE LOOK SO GOOODDDD' and saves the image, using it as his screen wallpaper. The background was the amusement park he'd begged you to go to with him, cotton candy swirls in your hands as you stood together with happy smiles. Jamil took the photo, which is great! Because for some reason, even though the two of you are his best friends, he doesn't like the thought of Jamil standing next to you or doing as he did in the picture and feeding you a piece of his cotton candy. Just thinking about it made him upset. He doesn't like feeling upset, so he doesn't want to think about it anymore.

The bell rings, and the freshmen pour out of their classrooms like a swarm of insects. Several Scarabia first-year students greet him, and he smiles in turn, while his ruby-red eyes scan the crowd for your figure.

Too short, too tall, wrong hair color, wrong hair texture—ah!

It's you.

"Y/N!" Kalim all but runs over to you with the widest smile on his face, almost bowling you over to the ground with his hug.

"Kalim!" You smile back just as happily, ignoring Grim, who'd fallen to the ground from your shoulder. Kalim beams brighter when he feels your arms wrap back around him, and he stays still until Ace speaks up.

"Uh, are you guys gonna keep hugging, or can we get going?"

"Right! Y/N, come with me, okay? I wanna show you something." He knows you'll fall for his wide, pleading eyes when he asks the question. As expected, you only nod and follow him, leaving Grim with the two Heartslabyul boys with promises of tuna when you pick him up later.

Kalim holds your hand the whole time as he pulls you back to Scarabia. He listens to how your day went with all 110% of his attention span, letting you finish your story before opening the storage room door. "Huh? What are we doing here, Kalim?" He giggles and runs with you over to one corner. He doesn't like that he has to let go of your hand, but he dives headfirst into the mountain of gold to try and find the thing he's looking for. He pulls a small box out of the pile and collapses to the floor, out of breath. "Uh, are you okay?" You ask, barely holding back your laughter.

"I'm okay!"

He loves seeing you laugh. He thinks you shouldn't hide it.

"So what did you want to show me?"

He stands back up and opens the box. Inside is a gold bracelet with little heart-shaped rubies, the same color as his eyes. "This! I just remembered that my parents sent it with me when I got into NRC. It was my jida's. Do you like it?"

You smile and admire the bracelet.

But you never touch it.

"It's gorgeous, Kalim."

"Great!" He fumbles a little bit as he takes it out of the box, gesturing for your hand. "I'll put it on for you!"

"What? No, I can't accept that, Kalim."

"Please! They told me to give it to an important person, and you're very important to me," he insists. You look at him hesitantly, but still refuse. "That's different, I don't think they mean that kind of important, Kalim."

"Y/N...am I not important to you?"

Finally, finally, you waver and fold. You let him put the bracelet on you. He can't help himself; he intertwines your fingers with his own as he admires the way it sits on your wrist. He can almost imagine the way his own grandmother had worn it in the past. She must've looked beautiful, but he thinks no one could ever compare to you. You two sit down on some random carpet in the store room as he continues to appreciate how it shines on your skin, his thumb subconsciously rubbing circles on your hand. When he looks back at your face to say something, he freezes for a few seconds. 

You're looking at him so...adoringly.

Eyes soft and sweet, like honey is swirling within your irises. Your lips are slightly parted, as if you're hesitating to say something, and your grip on his hand is tightening. He watches you take a deep breath and speak.

"Kalim," you say his name like it's nothing he's ever heard before. "I like you, as more than a friend. No, Kalim, I love you."

And for once, he doesn't know how to respond to this love.

For all the love given to him by his parents, his ancestors, his siblings, his cousins, his human friends, his animal friends—none of it had prepared him to be loved by you, no, not like this. He loves you. But... as a friend.

Right.

Because loving you like that, what would it mean? Would it let you spend more time together or less? Would you smile at him or fight with him more? What does that kind of love entail?

He likes your friendship.

So, "Can't we just stay friends?"

He sees your heart crack from the way you look at him, how you pull away, and how you immediately unclasp the bracelet and put it back in his hands. There are tears streaming down your face and leaving trails down your cheeks as you speak, and your voice is so shaky that he feels so bad for what he said. But he can't take it back. "Okay, I'm, I'm so sorry." You stammer out through choked sobs as you stand up and start to walk away.

"Hey, Y/N!" He tries to go after you, but you break out into a full run before he can do anything.

Maybe he should leave you alone for a while. With all the thoughts in his mind that he can't make sense of at the moment, maybe he needs that alone time just as much as you do.

He sighs.

First Jamil, now you.

(Since when has friendship been so hard?)

The 'alone time' takes at least three days.

By the fourth day, Kalim is ready to be your friend again. He can't handle the awkward glances or seeing your teary eyes just the day after the incident, but he can't leave you forever! You're his best friend, and he wouldn't lose you over this. He'd thought that after giving you some space, you would bounce right back and maybe go on a magic carpet ride with him again.

So...why are you still avoiding him...?

He'd lost sleep over the past three days, lost focus. Jamil had been on his tail about homework and projects. But he's so distracted. Where are you? What are you doing? Are you okay now?

Do you still love him?

He walks over to your cafeteria table, where you're seated with your friends. "Y/N!" He's blocked by a very angry Grim, hissing and all fur standing on end. He's so confused when Ace and Deuce try to get him to leave, when Epel is glaring at him, when Jack is hiding you behind his muscled figure, when Ortho is just quietly scanning him, a strange red laser pointing to his forehead, or when Sebek is yelling at him that you don't want him around.

Do you really...not want him around?

He's pulled away by Jamil when Ortho's eyes start glowing red.

Why are you avoiding him why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why

He doesn't like it when you avoid him.

Don't avoid him, please.

You're taking longer, more inconvenient routes, if only to steer clear of the path he takes. Your friends guard around you in the cafeteria, and days turn to weeks, and Kalim is...okay.

He's okay.

(Jamil finds him sobbing in his sheets in the middle of the night, crying out your name.)

He's okay when he sees you gradually brightening up again. He's okay when he finds you're slowly talking to him again, but not treating him like a friend. He's super okay and totally fine when he sees you spending more and more of your time with Deuce alone, just the two of you. And he's great when he notices the boy's blushing, awkward movements, similar to what you used to do in Kalim's presence.

Come back to him please Y/N please please please come back why won't you come back he's your best friend right why won't you come back Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N

"Do you like Y/N?"

Kalim's feet are swinging off the edge of the balcony as he leans back on his arms. His gaze stays on the fountain in the middle of the dormitory, clearly lost in thought, before being brought back by Jamil's question. He doesn't need to think twice about his answer. "Of course! They're my best friend too, so it's a little upsetting that they're not hanging out with me anymore."

"No." Jamil rolls his eyes. "More than a friend."

"I don't think so."

"Really?"

Kalim nods.

(It's okay that he wants to be your best friend, your only friend, right?)

"Kalim, let's get this straight, okay? I don't want to see you sulking anymore. You're in love with Y/N." Jamil puts both hands on Kalim's shoulders, stooping a little lower to look him in the eye. "Do you want to be with Y/N all the time? Do you want to touch them? Kiss them, maybe? Do you feel annoyed when you see them with other people? Do you hate the thought of a future without them by your side, like you can't even stand it? Kalim, yes or no, are you in love with Y/N?"

Kalim feels like he's just been dunked in a vat of ice water.

"I love them that way?" he asks softly.

Jamil shakes him lightly. "Imagine you saw Deuce kissing the—"

Oh. Okay. So he loves you after all.

"Kalim!"

He never even noticed the heavy rain that suddenly started after Jamil said those words. It's his magic; he can feel it, but Oasis Maker is out of his control, and he doesn't feel like stopping it. "Sorry Jamil, I just, I can't imagine it." He's crying, why is he crying? Is it because he hates the thought so much that it makes him want to—

You wouldn't kiss Deuce no no you wouldn't you wouldn't why would you kiss him do you like him does he like you have you moved on do you not love Kalim anymore please love love love love love why would you do that don't abandon him he loves you too so please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please

"Jamil?" Kalim holds onto his retainer's wrists. "Do you think...Y/N still loves me?"

"I don't know, Kalim."

"If they don't love me anymore," Kalim smiles, it's a little desperate, but mostly, it's pained. The corners of his lips twitch as his grip on Jamil's wrists tightens. "Will you help them remember how much they love me?”

[cupids-chamber]

— " 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 " | Listen to this on loop for full experience.... ★. Content tags/warnings , 1.1k+ words, gender neutral reader, technically everyone x reader (including staff/not so much RSA), can be seen as both platonic and romantic, angst, mentions of food/eating less (reader no longer has an appetite), reader is tired, reader is having a really bad day, reminder: I haven't written in awhile.

Today was a difficult day, many days have challenged you in so many different ways, yet a keen feeling of gloominess had washed over you this particular morning. Your alarm rang blankly into the silent room, you let out a groan of displeasure as you sat up on your bed, staring blankly at the wall feeling a churn in your gut. The curtains were closed, a small ray of light shone through the empty space between your window and the fabric of the curtain; you took a moment to sit and stretch. 

Mentally you cursed yourself, reaching a hand to shut off your phone alarm. Perhaps it was a bad idea staying up late after all, yet how could you resist the urge to finish that new Twisted Wonderland fanfic you found on AO3 recently; The reader resonated deeply with you, and the author's writing was just what you needed. Your eyes stung, you felt like banging your head into your headboard just to stop it from ringing and aching, not to mention you could practically feel the weight of your eyebags.—had you known your body would behave in such a way, you'd have slept at least a bit earlier—Well that's what you're saying now at least, you knew you'd probably repeat the same mistake tonight if another storyline enraptured you just as much as the previous did. 

You began standing up, your whole body woozy from the lack of sleep, you found yourself stumbling over something you left on the floor. You recall how tired you were, too done with the day to be bothered to pick it back up. You walked right past it, 'today was going to end badly' you thought to yourself, since your morning had been a dead giveaway. 

You pocketed some random snack, as breakfast; Running a bit later as per usual. You'd lie to yourself, saying that you'd get up a bit earlier tomorrow but you knew for a fact that unless a miracle happened, you wouldn't. 

The rest of the day was but the same routine, you felt tired all throughout your morning classes, on edge. You would've fallen asleep but you tried to keep your eyes open, as your professor was going over some important project intel that you really didn't want to miss—though you were only half understanding what they were saying—their words felt like gibberish for your only half-functioning brain.

Lunch felt like a chore, despite it usually feeling like a break. You felt like something bad was definitely going to happen, which made you feel anxious; The churn in your gut made it difficult to eat, chew, or drink. Your lunches weren't all that gigantic, as you disliked the feeling of being bloated, yet you barely could find it in yourself to eat. You took a deep breath, you logged into tumblr, perhaps one of your favorite fanfic writers uploaded something new? Anything to distract this heavy mind of yours. 

You checked @kalims page first, they hadn't uploaded in a while—It's been a couple days since they've posted; you figured they'd be busy with school… You pondered on the following page for a while, checking @spadecentral‘s blog, they were far more active then most other blogs you’ve been following and their soft and sweet writings was perhaps just what you needed in this tim—They haven’t uploaded in a while as well? You looked at your screen, maybe everyone was just busy with their finals and/or finishing up midterms at this time. 

You hummed, scrolling frantically through your follows, you sighed softly, maybe today wasn't the day to read fluff, you started checking yandere blogs; ‘nothing like obsessive men to calm you down’ you thought as you clicked on @writingforatwistedworld‘s blog, you scrolled down.. 

‘Weird, nothing new..’, it was as if the whole world had conspired against you today, you took a sigh, perhaps @honey-milk-depresso had uploaded something new on her art blog, after all their wholesome tsundere ship art was just the perfect source of serotonin—And if you were just a bit lucky, perhaps she’s uploaded writing onto her main blog an—Oh.. She hasn’t uploaded either?..  

Your brows furrowed letting out a tired sigh, maybe you should just listen to some music. ‘How bad could this day possibly go?’—you consoled yourself with those words, as you tried finishing up at least a small portion of your meal. 

You forced yourself to clean up and change, crashing onto your bed afterwards. It always felt softer on these sorts of days. Like a welcoming warm embrace, that you didn't want to leave. You took a few moments to vent your stress onto one of your poor pillows, before getting nice and cozy with your warm blankets. 

You laid down on your bed, burying yourself in the blankets, as you grabbed your device from near you, turning the brightness to the lowest possible setting, perhaps you should finish your general tasks on Twst before you take a nap.. 

10 minutes passed and you let out a groan, where did the app go? You never heard of an app disappearing randomly; perhaps you miss-clicked and hid it by accident? A few minutes passed, and you still couldn't find the Twisted Wonderland app, you desperately opened up your computer.. Typing in panic, and yet the official website was gone as well—perhaps it’s just going through some weird update?—Maybe this was only happening to certain servers. You logged into tumblr once again, checking your mutuals profiles and.. some of them were gone? Most of the blogs had nothing from Twisted Wonderland left, the tumblr tags for Twst were completely empty. 

Two hours had only passed and your panic grew, it was odd. You scrolled through your mutual’s blogs for minutes on end hoping to find one post about the game which put a smile on your face on the daily... Yet none... You went on AO3 and even checked other websites which you'd only go to out of sheer desperation for content... Yet nothing...  

You took deep breaths, your breathing pacing as you scrolled till your fingers began to sting from pressure and stress.. Your back arched, as you stared at the screen with an intense expression, desperately tapping away…  finally you entered the app store hoping this was a weird dream or update, like those movies and manga’s and yet.. the app was gone. No mention of it.

You couldn’t even trace a single picture of the game down, not even on Pinterest where everything deleted was still sometimes somehow available. 

'Were you crying? You couldn't quite tell, you felt tired, perhaps this fictional world was just something you created as an escape, yet you didn't think you'd get this attached to some characters on a screen, and now that's it's all gone you feel... kind of.. empty.' 

‘Maybe it was all just a fragment of your imagination…’

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