#mom like now I feel like I’m given the space to be a person and to be around someone who truly listens and lives and I’m realizing places

[milo-is-rambling]

Me looking at my own mood boards like “oh yeah this guy gets it”

[motorsportbarbie13]

What's A Soulmate? Part 6

In which things are made official (finally)

Warnings: little angst, social media posts Pairing: Lando Norris x SainzSister!reader Word Count: 1.4k words

- What's A Soulmate? - Part 1 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2.5 - What's a Soulmate? - Part 3 - What's a Soulmate? - Part 4 - What's a Soulmate? - Part 5 - Master List

Monaco May 2024

Sunlight streams in through the partially parted curtains of Lando’s bedroom the next morning. Your entire body is warm, wrapped up in the thick duvet that covers his king sized bed. The soft cotton of the t-shirt Lando gave you last night brushes against your skin, not unlike the way he touched you last night. 

He had just popped out to the cafe that was down the block from his apartment to get you breakfast, as he had absolutely nothing other than a few sweet potatoes in his fridge, one of which smelled suspiciously of vodka. The moment alone allowed you to fully soak in the sore feeling that radiated up from between your legs to the rest of your body. The delicious languid stretch that you felt when you moved even just the slightest bit reminded you of how Lando had played your body so well last night, like he’d been worshipping you for his entire life. 

You lazily reach for your phone just as you hear the front door click open.

 “I’m back.” Lando calls out and you grin, enjoying the way your heart flutters at the sound of his voice, still a little gritty from sleep. 

Instagram is your first choice, watching the private stories of your friends from last night, recapping what you had missed after you and Lando ditched the party. And then you come across a suggested post on your feed and your entire world stops for a moment. 

“Uh…Lan?” Panic dances at the edge of your voice as stare at the photo.

“What’s wrong?” As he rounds the corner, you see he’s holding two to go coffee cups from the cafe that’s down the street from his condo, a look of concern furrowing his brow when he sees the panicked look on your face. 

You flip your phone around to show him the post you’d been sent by a friend in London this morning. It’s a post from an F1 gossip account and it’s a picture from Lando taking you home last night, the two of you very obviously together as more than friends. Embarrassment flames at your cheeks as Lando crosses the room to take a look.

F1GossipNews: Fans in town for the Monaco Grand Prix this weekend caught some interesting shenanigans on the streets of Monte Carlo last night. McLaren driver Lando Norris was spotted outside the Hermitage Hotel last night with none other than Carlos Sainz's little sister and from the several reports we've recieved, they were looking VERY cozy together with Lando even carrying the Spanish McLaren employee at one point. As we all know, these two have been friends for years but have never outright confirmed that they were anything other than just that. We have to wonder what it'll take for these two to go public now??? user928 anyone who follows F1 knows that these two have been in love with each other for YEARS. Thank God they're finally realizing it themselves. user9827 i'll always feel bad for that one girl he dated a few years ago. it feels like there was always 3 people in that relationship. i guess she was right to be jealous >>>user8272 i always heard she was the cause of their breakup. confirmed ig. >>>user0388 oh come on, they've been broken up for TWO YEARS. get a life. touch some grass. user023828 MOM AND DAD MADE IT OFFICIAL. MY LIFE IS COMPLETE.

You hadn’t had a chance to talk about what last night had meant yet and your heart hammered in your chest at the possible rejection. It was still possible that he changed his mind, wasn’t it? That this morning while he had gone out to get breakfast, the space had given him a chance to have second thoughts. You knew that Lando was intensely private about his personal life, hating the way gossip accounts and fans sunk their teeth into any bit of gossip they could get their hands around. 

Fans had tried to link the two of you early on when you were friends and Lando always got so angry when that particular rumor would start swirling again. How was he going to react now that this photo, where you both had been identified by name. Sure, you had shared that one photo of his hand low on your back last night but you couldn’t see his face. This was different. There was a video too, attached to the gossip post and you could clearly hear his thick British accent and your unmistakable laugh floating through the background of the video. 

Lando sits down at the foot of the bed with your phone in his had. A smirk plays on his face as he watches the video for the third time, hand reaching out to stroke your toes that now sit in his lap. When he looks up though, his smile fades and matches your anxious one. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, tears threaten to spill. 

Lando is fully confused by your reaction. “What do you have to be sorry about?” 

“They caught us. I know how private you are, how you don’t want to be linked to anyone unless it’s serious. I should have been more careful, Brenda is going to fucking kill me if you don’t. Oh God, Lan. I’m so sorry.” You ramble, twisting the sheets beneath you out of sheer anxiety.  

You remember the rant he went off on before he had started officially dating the girl that ended up ripping you two apart. It had somehow been leaked to the press that they were together and Lando had felt pressured to make it official with her after that. What you didn’t know was that it hadn’t been the press that had made him feel pressured, it had been the girl. She had pushed and pushed, saying that it would ruin her reputation if nothing came of the gossip posts and he had just gone along with it. 

“Hey, there’s no need to panic. Come here.” Lando reaches out to gather you up in his arms, smiling at the fact that you’re still wearing the t-shirt he had given you last night before you two fell asleep. “Why are you freaking out? It’s fine if the press publishes this stuff.” 

“I just…” You struggle to comprehend what he’s saying to you. He’s not mad? “I just know how much you hate the press in your private life. How angry you got when they found out about…her. We hadn’t talked about what this means and I just didn’t want you to feel forced or anything.” 

Lando pulls you further into his lap, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. God, this was his favorite place now, with how soft the skin at your neck is and always smelling like your perfume no matter the time of day. He was so glad he got to fully indulge in it now and didn’t have to hide how deep his feelings for you were. 

“I do hate the press in my private life, you’re right but I also very much want to shout from the rooftops that I finally get to kiss the love of my life whenever I want. I’m sorry if I didn’t make it clear to you last night, but you’re it for me pretty girl.” He leans in then, brushing your temple with his lips before dragging them down the line of your jaw, fingers gripping at your hips to pull you even closer. “It’s always been you, pretty girl. Always. Be mine forever?”

“You don’t even have to ask, Lan. I’ve been yours for a long time now.”   

If your heart could have exploded in your chest, you wouldn’t have been surprised. You hadn’t really known, hadn’t really realized how much you’d needed to hear Lando say those words until now. You’d spent the better part of five years shoving your feelings for him down so deep in a desperate attempt to accept the fact that maybe all you two would ever be was friends. It was dizzying knowing that that wasn’t going to be the case now and you struggled to wrap your head around it. 

“I can’t go around telling you how much I love and adore you in private and hide those feelings in public. I don’t want to.” To emphasize his point, he grabs his phone out of his back pocket and swipes to open Instagram. You watch with mild amusement as he scrolls through some of the photos he took last night before he lands on one where he’s got you slung over his shoulder, not unlike the gossip post, but this one is in his hallway after he took you home. He types out a caption before handing it over to you for your approval. 

Laughter spills out of your lips as you read it before you look up at him. “This is quite bold, are you sure you want to be this…open?” 

Lando nods, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’m about to be so obnoxious about the fact I finally landed you. How else is everyone in the paddock going to know you’re spoken for now? Max fucking Verstappen better stop texting you now or else I’m going to run him into the bloody wall on Sunday.” 

“Lando Norris!” You scold, swatting him on the shoulder while you both dissolve in giggles. 

“Go on, I know you want to post something too. Although I suspect that story you posted last night of me and you in the elevator was what sparked people to look for other clues. They’ve been trying to ship us for years.” 

You blush under the accusation but you know it’s all in good fun. Fear and anxiety gone from your body you reach for your phone again to make your own post. Lando gives his nod of approval and you both post the photos simultaneously and then grinning, you leave your phones in the bedroom as you enjoy the rest of your morning before you have to be on track later for media day. 

You two didn’t earn the nickname Chaos Gremlins for nothing.  

LandoNorris Confirmed. (tagged: LittlestSainzSis, F1GossipNews) CarlosSainz you'd better take care of her or else you'll end up in a gravel pit. LittlestSainzSis love you darling >>>(liked by landonorris) McLaren IT'S ABOUT TIME >>>user928 even admin knew these two idiots were in love before they did. user0292 oh my GOD he tagged the gossip account. HAHAH >>>user92828 he is down BAD for our girl user0332 if you look closely in the background, you can see me laying down in the middle of the highway. >>>user928 srsly. this post called me single in seven different languages. user02828 god they're so hot together

LittlestSainzSis cat's out of the bag, ig ;) (tagged: LandoNorris) user0292 god they're perfect LandoNorris love you, pretty girl >>>(liked by littlestsainzsis) McLaren our favorite papaya couple finally official!! >>>user0383 admin's been rooting for this ship just as much as the rest of us. user029921 legit the hottest looking couple on the grid, fight me.

the end.

IDK why half of the tag list isn't working but if for some reason you're not being tagged (it says you are when I'm editing the post but it doesn't show up live when I publish it) make sure your settings are fixed on your end or maybe it's just bc i'm a new blog and i can't tag this many? idk but i'll keep trying to fix it!! you can also turn on post notifs for me if you want!)

Tag List: @anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @powerfulmess @technicallypleasanttree @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @unknownmystery22 @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream

[world-of-aus]

The Arrangement - Chapter 3

Pairing: Mobboss!Bucky x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angsty Dialogue. Longing????

Author's Note: Chapter 3 is finally here, I apologize for the delay, but I wanted to make this as good as I could for all of you. Also the vows used are my personal favorite and I think they fit the story well. I hope you enjoy, thank you, and happy readings!

You’re looking over the latest shipment, fingers dancing down the list of numbers, eyes scanning over the page from left to right. 

“You know, I heard most brides should be relaxing before their big day, having a night out on the town with their friends. Why am I not surprised you’re still here sweetheart?"

Your fingers still, eyes flitting up to see you father at the open door of your office, you offer a warm smile, “m'about done, just doing a final check before the weekend, wanted to make sure our numbers were right come Monday when we merge with the Barnes, didn't want a single hair out of place. And I'll have you know that Becca and I had a girls night yesterday by the way, we plan on catching a late dinner tonight as well so consider that my night out on the town.” 

Your father chuckles stepping into your space, your eyes flit back to the sheet as he draws closer, his presence looming at your side as he watches you. He waits till you’ve skimmed the last of the page, till you’re relaxed back against the office chair eyes on him before he speaks. 

“How are you doing my girl,” he murmurs reaching out to stroke your head, “I’ve been worried about you since your mom called you home and delivered the news.” 

“I don’t know how to feel dad,” you answer honestly, “should I feel happy, sad, angry, regret?” 

“Regret?” he questions. 

“This isn’t the way this was supposed to go,” you say. “I planned a wedding for tomorrow that isn’t mine, everything up to the last detail is hers, it's not mine and now I’m expected to step up – to step in for my family. Do you know what that’s going to feel like? To look like? Stepping in to a wedding that screams ‘This isn’t yours’, a wedding that you didn't invision." What if she comes back dad, what if she comes to her senses and decides she wants him back? What then? Are you going to discard up the contract like you did that night? Discard my feelings as if they meant less than hers?” 

Your father looks stricken by your words, “but we thought it’s what you wanted sweetheart, you didn’t fight us on it, you willingly let him sign so we assumed it's what you wanted too."

You scoff with a shake of your head, maybe you’d settle on feeling anger. “Of course I made it seem like it's something I wanted. Forgive me for not wanting to put myself through a one-sided marriage. He fell for her dad the first night he laid eyes on her and he was locked in, he loves her, he chose her. So of course I let him go despite my breaking heart. I refused to be the cause of someone’s unhappiness, to be the cause of my own unhappiness because I deserve someone who will love me back, who would choose me and he wasn’t going to chose me.” 

‘I can’t do this to her.’ 

But he could do it to you. 

“Sweetheart I’m -” 

You bring a hand up, “Please don’t dad, I’ve agreed to this because I know what it meant to our family, and I’ll play my role just as you asked but please don't ask more of me, there's only so much that I can give, and I think I've given enough."

Your fathers struck by your words, and he can only watch as you stand from the seat gathering your things. It’s only once you’ve reached the door of the office you turn to regard him, “I’ll see you tomorrow dad.” He wants to call you back,  to get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness because how could he have not seen it. Seen what that night did to you, he should have done more for you, fought it, but all he could think of that night was the merger, the safety it would bring both families. He thought of everyone’s happiness but your own that night. They all did. 

“You know my offer still stands to be your getaway driver for tomorrow right?” 

Despite the tears blurring your eyes you still manage to snort out your laughter, “Your brother would have us tracked down in minutes Bec’s there’s no where you could go that he wouldn’t find you, he has plenty of people that owe him favors just ready to cash in. Also don't get me started on the hell my father would reign, I don't take his position till after I marry."

“It was a worth a try,” she grumbles stabbing a noodle, “I just hate to see you hurting y/n, this isn’t how the night before your big day should be going, you should be happy – those tears shouldn’t be sad ones.” 

You smile sadly at the noodles in the takeout box before looking over the coffee table at your best friend, “but this isn’t my big day Bec's, I'm doing this for our families." Rebecca abandons her noodles all but crawling over the wooden coffee table to get to you, her arms crushing you in a welcomed embrace. “Tomorrow is for you y/n, I know none of it feels like it is, but its for you, I promise it is.” 

Your fingers curl around your friend as more tears slip from your eyes, god how you wish that were the truth. You would give yourself tonight to cry, to be hurt, to feel angry, but tomorrow, tomorrow it would all be different - you'd learn to mask it. You would no longer cry, no longer allow this pain to consume you, you were going to fight for your happiness - real happiness, and ensure you got every bit of it you deserved. 

Bucky remembered the nights the two of you would be out in the backyard of the Barnes residence, a soft blanket laid out beneath the two of you, the stars coating the night sky as you two drew up the image of the ‘perfect wedding’ a wedding between the two of you that was written in the stars. Looking around the chapel now he doesn’t see a single speck of you in the details. Though why would he, this wedding wasn’t yours despite all the effort you had gone to make sure it was perfect and it really wasn’t his – was it?  

He still recalls the day your sister eagerly announced their engagement to both families, he had imagined this being one of the most exciting moments in his life but where was that sought after feeling? He had found no excitement when she mentioned that you and her would be going dress shopping for the first time since the engagement dropped, no eagerness in wondering what she would look like in her chosen all white dress. If anything he felt like he had been outsider to most of it, the cake testing, the linen choosing, the food tasting, and at the time he couldn't quite understand why. Where had that rush he felt with you in his backyard gone? This was his wedding, he should feel happy, so why didn't he, what was missing?

Bucky thought he might be devastated when his mother rang him to tell him about your sister not being able to go through with the wedding. He thought he might have been crushed when he received her text: Please forgive me. I love you, but I can't do this. He thought he might feel hurt when his number was blocked shortly after, but he felt nothing.

Now though as he stands at the head of the chapel, Steve and Sam at his side a feeling Bucky can’t place his finger on crushes his chest as he looks over the families lining the pews of the church. There are quiet whispers filtering through the air, and Bucky thinks that's what may be causing the feeling. Or maybe it was the fact that you still hadn’t entered through the closed doors of the chapel.  

Had you unlike your sister gotten actual cold feet, or maybe you finally decide to do something for you, something that wasn't at the benefit of your family.

Steve leans in from where he’s stood at his side, “would you like me to go check on them pal?” Bucky’s lip's part on an answer but the doors to the chapel are pushing in, his sister albeit a little disheveled makes her way down the aisle, quiet apologies on her lips as she takes her spot on your side.

He looks at her in question, "we hit a bump in the road," she mouths, "she's coming."

Bucky wants to question her further, but then the piano is being queued, the doors swinging open and just there at the entrance you stand with your father, your arms entwined together.

He forgets how to breathe.

Bucky watches your father guide the two of you down the aisle, both family's stood on their feet. The feeling that weighed him down earlier is now replaced with something new as your father closes the distance. You're dressed in a silk white dress, a delicate veil placed in your hair, a simple piece yet on you it looked incredibly stunning, so this was the bump in the road.

He meets you and your father, your hand being placed in his, "take care of my girl son." Bucky looks at your father, his hand squeezing yours, "I give you my word sir." your father nods placing a kiss to your cheek before taking his spot by your mother.

It's just you and Bucky for a moment as he leads you up to the officiant, "I'm sorry for being late," you whisper, "I -" He turns to you then as you stop before the officiant, his other hand taking yours, "there's nothing to be sorry for I understand, you're here now, you look beautiful sweetheart."

He's left you speechless, but there's no room for words as the officiant begins the ceremony.

Bucky can't take his eyes off you, not even as he repeats the vows he's supposed to, his eyes only ever part from yours when he goes to present you with the ring Steve passes him, and even then they're on yours shortly after as he makes his promise to you. He cant quite describe the feeling that passes over him when you take the ring from Becca eyes locked on his as you make your vows to him sealing it with the ring over his finger.

Why did he ever let you go?

"James Barnes and Y/F/N Y/L/N, having proclaimed your love and commitment to one another in the eyes of these loved ones, and with the power vested in me by the Universal Life Church and the state of New York, I am so happy to pronounce you husband and wife." The officiant turns his attention to Bucky then, "You may kiss your bride."

You and Bucky had only ever kissed one other time, and it was a moment like this one that he knew he would never forget.

He's on his side looking down at you, taking in the beauty of your features as your eyes dance across the starry sky. "I'd want to write my own vow's," he proclaims, "it would feel more personal, more us."

He loves when your eyes find his, there's a brightness in your eyes at his proclamation, "I'd love that too B, care to share with me a bit of what you'd say?"

He know's you're teasing but in that moment he doesn't care, he thinks he may be able to tell you tonight, to show you just how much he cares, how much he loves you. "I vow to fiercely love you in all your forms now and forever," he breathes grinning at the soft surprise that skirts over your features. "I promise to never forget that this is a once-in-a-lifetime love. And to always know in the deepest part of my soul that no matter what challenges might carry us apart, we will always find our way back to each other."

He thinks you might have been the first to move, your hand finding the back of his head, the other the side of his face as you caressed his cheek, he knows there's love in your eyes as you pull him a little closer, the whispered words, 'you may now kiss the bride' ghosting over his lips just before they met yours.

He's certain he's the one that's moved first this time, one hand finding your waist, the other your cheek as he pulls you closer. He can see the fear, the worry there in your eyes, and he caresses your skin in hopes of easing that worry as he closes the distance between the two of you.

And just before his lips slot over yours Bucky vows then to mend the promises he had broken.

The Arrangement Taglist:

If you'd like to be added or removed please let me know, Many Thanks <3

@learisa @greatenthusiasttidalwave @barnesxstan @calwitch @h0nestly-though @wintrsoldrluvr @esposadomd @roofwitty779 @pattiemac1 @sebastians-love @scott-loki-barnes @mrsnikstan @metanoiablxxm @lostyx @missvelvetsstuff @casa-boiardi @shoutingcardinal @tiedyedghoulette @littleeuphoriaelf @polireader @armystay89 @cjand10 @railmesebstan @agardenflower25 @brckenmemories @mcira @loki-laufeyson68 @edelweissbarnes @unaxv @ghalouha @wasalreadyhere @broadwaybabe18 @mavs101 @stormy-stardust @shadowrose13-blog1 @laha1na

[beababoobies]

Oh, oh! I love him this snake boy so much! May I request a sort of part two to Somethin’ Stupid where it fouces on their relationship afterwards?

Pentious getting the love he deserves? Yes. Absolutely. I’m on it. You got it boss, we love the silly snake boy!

Somethin’ Stupid - Part 2.

part one here! Sir Pentious x Reader. words : 1k.

Ever since that night - full of tears and embraces, kisses, and even some discovers of more of a certain body part than you had expected - your life at the hotel at flipped. It went from dejected rehabilitation as your complete last resort to something out of one of those stupid teen romance books you read when you were still alive. 

Your days were still spent trying to get into Heaven, sure. You still had to do all the motions of rehabilitation, you still had to get up early and deal with Angel and Husks’ bickering, your favourite wall being consistently blown up, and Charlies’ occasional toxic positivity breakdowns where you were worked out of your mind. But you did it hand in hand with your anxious, yet charming serpent boyfriend. 

You spent your nights cuddled up against him, you had even given up your room to share one with him. You had also learned that he could shed. Not your favourite thing about it, to put it nicely, but you accepted every part of your little ball of insecurity. Because he was your little ball of insecurity. And he made you feel like the prettiest sinner in every ring of hell. 

He would bring you flowers, compliment you at any chance you wanted. He was good in bed - though that was just a bonus. He listened patiently, and he gave you your space. And now that you could actually get close to him, you discovered that not only was he adorable, he was also your new best friend. Your personalities fit together like a puzzle piece.

And here you were, thinking all this, cuddled up against him with him gently holding you to his chest, listening to him go on about his old rivalry and big fights. His egg boys - who were practically now your egg boys as well, and you loved them dearly. He started on about how he admired you for so long. This, you wouldn’t mind listening to. 

“I thought you were the mosssst beautiful a ssssinner could be.” He says with a soft sigh, hand rubbing small anxious circles into your back. “Thought you had to be an Angel, becausssse I didn’t know ssssinnerssss could be that angelic.” He hums out, pressings a kiss to the top of your head, cuddling up against you, feeling content. He looked the most relaxed in the past weeks than you’d ever seen him. 

“You were very.. oddly charming.” You day with a small giggle, looking up to see him all pouty and confused, making the smile on your face grow wider as you try not to laugh at his expense. “You’re clumsy, and anxious but.. you don’t try to hide it behind anger.” You say as you lean up and peck his cheek, watching his face grow red. You sigh contently. “You’re so unforgivably vulnerable and that’s why I love you so hard.” 

He melts at your words, bottom lip trembling and you giggle, nuzzling your cheek against his before noticing his state, tears forming in his eyes as he tries to hold back tears. “Are you about to cry?” You say with a small giggle, gently holding his face in you palm, sighing softly. “‘S okay baby, you can cry around me.” You say with a genuinely smile.

He bursts out into a half-sob half-rant about how lucky he is to have you, how he doesn’t even believe you’re real because you’re so pretty. You listen to it with a big smile and it gets so sweet you even feel tears forming in your eyes, using your thumbs to wipe the tears away from the face of the man you love oh so much. 

“I jusssst - jussst love being around you. Can’t believe i’m with you. That you l- like me! Me! I feel like I ssshould be calling up my mom, telling her I made it.” He says between sobs and sniffles, and all you can do is nod along with his words. Sighing softly as you watch him pour out all his loving emotions to you. “I ssstood there for monthsss, thinking I don’t have a chance. Sssshouldn’t even talk to you. But I don’t even want redemption now. I have my Heaven right here..” he mumbles out the last part, looking up at you with those teary eyes, hiccuping softly.

“I think Heaven might suit you a lot better, though.” You say sweetly, gently leaning down to press another kiss to his other, now tear-soaked cheek. “Think they need someone as kind as you up there.” You say reassuringly, watching him shake his head, making you smile. “Don’t want redemption. I have you.” He says again, nuzzling his cheek against your palm.

“Y-you know.” He starts, raising one of his hands to cup at your cheek, and so you take one of your hands from his face and cradle it against his gentle and loving touch, raising your eyebrows. “I know?” You question with a smile, watching him smile. 

“I’m glad I went and ssssaid ssssomethin’ ssstupid like….” He pauses, realizing he hasn’t said it since, piercing his lips together as he realizes the awkward situation he’s put himself in. You chuckle softly and squeeze his hand, getting his attention back on you.

“I love you?” You question, ending his statement for him. You watch as he lights up all over again, eyes still wet with tears, agreeing to your statement with a kiss, before pulling away. He nods again. 

“I love you.” 

[lookforsomeoneelse]

Just wanted to say that I love your work and can't wait for more also if you ever run out of ideas then here I had these in my head it's the only things in there so take good care of them please (.1 what if after they failed to bring the reader to them they went to the reader to reverse isekai style. 2 {not sure of your boundaries when it comes to writing so please ignore this if you feel uncomfortable with it also sorry if it makes you uncomfortable} what if reader is hurt like self harm/ assault/ robbery or something like that how would the characters react would they be mad?. 3 what if you made a hand made gift for every character how will they react and for my last idea how would they react to the reader singing or cooking or even the characters reading a fanfic about the reader maybe even a book the reader made?) anyway that's all that's left in this head but remember to take breaks even if you don't feel like you need one trust me you do burn out isn't something that's fun also remember that even if your mind plays tricks on you and tries to put you down remember that you are loved and appreciated also take care of yourself to many people aren't doing that and I don't want to be anyone's mom yet

From 🐉

wow

cool first emoji anon

alright uh

i’m gonna split this into parts

writing the first and second suggestion first because i think they would work well together

Started creation on: 7/7/2024

cw for (implied?) death and the incredible tension and maybe some other things

Breathe in.

Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Somebody is in your house. Don’t panic. Whoever it is doesn’t know you’re here. It’s a small, cramped space that you’ve hidden in, but you don’t notice that fact when your life is on the line.

You’re not sure if the intruder is armed or not, but you aren’t giving up your disguise to find out.

A long creak of the door notifies you that they’re definitely approaching your safe haven- which is slowly becoming a danger zone.

You place both hands around your mouth to try and mask some of the sound your breathing produces.

You can hear footsteps.

The light is let in.

You let out a scream.

_________________________________________

They- more specifically the combined intellect of the geniuses of the realm that stood- were sure.

Blue moon the chances may be, the geniuses could hold and draw upon fortune and fate just for this very moment, as the imaginary concepts were drawn in by the thought of the madness they were going to commit once again-

They were trying to see their beloved Guide once again. Having learnt their lessons from the last attempt, the new collider was much more durable and steady; and more importantly, it was safer. Because now the devotees weren’t just attempting to bring the Guidance to them, no, they were trying to transfer theirselves to Their realm.

“Is everything in order? We don’t want to fail a second time, don’t we?” Walking down like a bride on the aisle, the (most definitely) unmarried Herta stared at her work partner, Screwllum.

“Affirmation: Absolutely. The Absolute Exclusion Harness is ready for use. All we need now is for someone to use it. Question: Who will take up the mantle?”

“Me, of course! I had the Harness tailored to my proportions, after all.”

Screwllum paused for a moment, his CPU processing the information given to him.

“…Question: You… brought your actual body here?”

The puppet that Herta was using shut down and fell limp, its eyes going dark as a sign of lost connection. Herta- The real, in the flesh, Herta- waltzed into the room. She looked more mature than most of her puppets, though still quite young for her certain age.

“Of course. What kind of acolyte would I be if I couldn’t even see my master in person?”

”Affirmation: You already know the answer.”

They both remained silent for that fleeting moment, before Herta decided to make her move.

“Start it up.”

_________________________________________

It’s a small, cramped space that she appears in, but she can manage. She knows already that it will lead to the greatest moment of her lowly life.

“Looks like the harness didn’t come with me,” She mused, “I’ll have to improve on the design…. that can wait, though.”

She opens the door to what she assumes is a closet, letting the light in. She ponders why The Almighty would live in such poor conditions compared to what They deserve.

A corpse falls out of the closet she was just in. It brings her disgust.

And then she sees who the corpse is- or rather was.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

nononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononono nononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononono

She hadn’t cried in a long time. Her eyes began to pour tears, and when no more were left, she cried blood. Like a child scared of the dark, with a closed door and no nightlight, she held her God ever closer, trying to find some sort of signal that They were still alive- breathing, pulse, brain activity, anything.

In place of her dreams, now there was an eternal nightmare.

Like a banshee, she- and the rest of the universe she called home- would weep.

_________________________________________

First Edition completed on 7/10/2024.

A/N: wow procrastination hit me hard. also i am very sorry for the low quality ending. maybe i might make edits to this? anyway i have more to work on so i’ll get back to the other suggestions later

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Guiding Hand 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, violence, abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won’t let you give up so easy.

Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background

Note: Happy Friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The grocery store is a panoply of colours and sounds. You feel hollow as you lean on the cart and trawl the aisles. You won't fill it, you got it for support. Your legs are weaker by the minute.  

You balance out every credit in your shop. You can't go a dollar over the allotment. It isn't very much at the end. Better for you, you're worried about carrying it all. 

You swipe the card and crumple the list. You had to leave a few things off. You hook the bags over your shoulders, the effort further sending your burnt hand to pulse. As you come out onto the beaming light, you examine the tortured flesh peeking out. You unwind the fraying bandage and gasp, tears springing free as you peel it away from the sticky, stinky flesh. 

It stings in the open air. You keep it up against your chest and walk on. It's more of a lumber as your feet drag and your body moves stiffly. The sun beats down mercilessly and has you sweating despite the constant shiver rolling through you. 

You slow as you come in sight of your building. You look around cautiously, searching for the glasses and blond beard. Did he listen? Did he go away or is he lurking? Just like Lee, always waiting... 

You don't see him. The edges of your vision are so blurry, you can't be sure. You don't have the energy to worry about him. You just want to go back to bed. 

You cross the street and clumsily aim the keys at the slot. Through one door, then the next. You don't hear them catch behind you but you can only hear the echoing impact of each step. 

You stagger into the apartment and leave the chain to dangle, the latch flipped the wrong way. You trod into the kitchen but don't have the length to lift the bags onto the counter. You drop them on the floor and stare. You're so tired and you can't stop shaking. 

As you stand there, time and space pinpoints on you. You look around, the silence setting in. It's so quiet. You can't hear your mom. Or him.  

"Now aren't ya gon put that all away?" Lee drawls as his weight creaks in the floor. 

You nod without looking back and make a noise. You can't muster a single word. You bend to reach into a bag and take out the box of generic macaroni and cheese. You hobble to the counter and set it down, using your good hand to open the cupboard. You put it on the shelf and grasp the door. 

You're so dizzy. You lean on the counter and suddenly, the doors swinging shut. The edge hits your cheek and you yelp. You're crushed against the drawers as Lee pens you in from behind. 

"You're startin' to really tee me off. Takin' your time and all. Like you ain't good for nothin'," he snarls as you fold over the counter top. "Whatsa matter with you? You not gonna fight, huh?" 

He grabs a fistful of hair and wrenches your head back. You heave as your hand slaps painfully on the stained linoleum, the flesh radiating with flame. You whimper as his other hand creeps around your stomach. He pushes on your pelvis until his crotch is flush to your ass. 

"Let me show you what you're good for, huh?" He sneers and shoves his hand down the front of your pants. You whimper as he touches the coil patch of hair beneath, "mm, feel that? You want this. Ain't even got no panties." 

"Stop," you murmur as your head lolls from his grasp. 

"You'll be beggin' me not to in a minute," he snorts and forces his fingers between your thighs. 

"Sto-sto-stop!" You stammer out helplessly. 

"Now, you keep quiet. It won't be long," he leans into you until your hips ache, "teach ya to be disrespectful." 

He curls his fingers and scratches between your folds. You whine and gulp through your dry throat. Panic surges through your delirium as you reach back to claw with your injured hand. A shriek erupts at the the vibrant agony. 

"Ahhhhhh!" You wail, "mom! Mom! Help!" 

"She drank herself stupid already," he growls and nips at your ear, "just us, girl." 

"Mom!" You yelp as his fingers dip towards your entrance, his rough palm scraping against your soft flesh, "mom!" Your heart throbs and your head rings, "mom!" He pushes his fingertips through your tight slit and you erupt, "MOMMY!” 

Your knee hit the wood as you wriggle against him. You’re so weak. The walls close in as you feel yourself losing your grasp, not just on the counter but on the world. His fingers sink in deep, the callouses rough against your delicate walls. 

Suddenly, you’re jarred and the room tips over. You hit the tile in a heap and groan. Your fiery hand rests against the cool squares as your vision swirls and you hear huffing and puffing, grunts intermingled and the crack of violence. Thwack, thwack, thwack. 

Lee’s heavy figure hits the wall and his legs go out from under him as he slides onto his ass. You blink through the silty haze and shake your head. It’s all foggy and senseless. It wasn’t you who pushed him off. It can’t have been. 

“Mom,” you mutter as you try to sit up only to fall back as your hand burns with acid. Your blood is hot but your skin is ice. “Mom, what’s going on?” 

A dark shape bounces off of Lee’s jaw and red dribbles down his chin as he leans against the wall, slumping down onto his shoulder. You drone mindlessly as you bring your hand over your stomach and whine. It hurts so bad. The shadow moves to stand over you and you close your eyes. 

“Please...” you beg. It’s definitely not your mom; they’re too big, too strong. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” the grizzly timbre tickles in your ears as something firm slips beneath you; one arm around your shoulders, the other under your knees. 

You float in the air, eyes threatening to roll back as you fight through the clouds, your form jittering uncontrollably against the blaze that surrounds you. The man is hotter than fire. You tilt your head up and see the tufts of his short blond beard. 

It’s him. It’s Professor Smith but why is he there? Where is he taking you? All those questions merely stir in your slanted consciousness as your head falls against his shoulder. You’re too tired to think and you’re done fighting. It never you any good anyhow. 

You feel the motion of his steps and how he angles you through the door. Down the stairs and outside back into the unbearable light. You squeeze your eyes tight. He continues on, laying you into something soft. You look at him between your eyelids and garble. 

“Sweetheart, just stay here,” he bids in his lilt, pulling a lever to recline the car seat. The vinyl smells brand new and the upholstery looks just as pristine. It stamps your vision before you once more hide inside your head. “I’ll be back.” 

You don’t protest. Why is he doing all this? For you? He’s your professor... it doesn’t make much sense. Nothing does right now. Everything is just messy. 

He puts the engine on. The low whir is comforting. He adjusts the vents to blow air, though it feels hot to you. He stands and removes his jacket, spreading it over your quivering shoulders and chest. He huffs and cranes to see behind him. 

The door shuts and locks at his back as he leaves you. You stay as you are. It’s as comfortable as you’ve been in days. Time stretches on, crackling in your ears. You drift off into a void, brought back only by the hollow thunk of the electric locks. 

Professor Smith tosses something in the backseat and snaps the door closed, moving to the driver’s. He sits beside you and lets the car idle. He reaches over to touch your forehead as your lashes flutter at him. He hums as he appears as a ghostly smear. 

“Very well,” he says and the car rolls into motion. 

📓

You jolt up, a splash of water flying up across your face and chest as you rip your hand away from the electrifying pain. You’re caught by the shoulder and hushed. You blink tightly and lean back, looking over at the man on the other side of the porcelain. Professor Smith reaches over to take your hand out of the water, the ripples scalding on the tormented skin. 

“It’s already infected,” he says, “you’ll make it worse. I’m trying to dress it so be still.” 

Your confusion nips at your ears as you look down at yourself. You’re naked, in a tub of steaming water, the scent of lilies roiling up with the wisps. He sighs and you hiss as he presses a wet swab to the burnt patches of skin. Some of it even looks green. 

His sleeves are rolled to his elbows and there are cuts and scrapes on his own knuckles. Even so, his nails are cut and tidy and his skin is clean. He is diligent in his attention to your own mottled skin. 

You put your hand over your lap, trying to hide but all modesty is spent. You’re too dazed to care that much. There’s bigger questions. Where are you? Why? 

“I couldn’t let you to wallow in such a horrid place,” he speaks as he works, his touch gentle despite the thickness and firmness of his hand. “And after our last interaction, I could not just tuck my tail. It isn’t of my nature.” He tuts as he wets a new swab with alcohol, “and the filth--” 

“Professor...” you slur. “What... why?” 

“There are many details, yes, I had to jump through hoops but you needn’t worry for all that. What’s more important is we get you clean. The state of it,” he shakes his head, “a day or two more and you might’ve died.” He stills his hands and looks at you. You dare to meet his gaze, shame scalding as hot as the fever, “it wouldn’t do.” 

You frown, “I didn’t ask for help--” 

“Well, you are getting it,” he scoffs and sets back to disinfecting. “And a mother like that. Neglectful...” 

“She’s... lost.” 

“It doesn’t matter, does it? She’s still a mother. Bringing that man around. Certainly, he isn’t the first, either.” 

You lower your head. You wince and whimper as he carries on but you do not pull away. He works methodically. 

“We’ll get some antibiotics in you and tuck in,” he speaks to himself, “perhaps they can have some broth brought up to the room. Never fear, I’ve brought my own sheets and sanitized ever speck.” 

You cough and shake your head. You can’t keep up. 

“When you’re up to it, we’ll leave town. I do fear I will have to be back in office, at least my home office, within the week,” he takes out a roll of gauze and you wince. 

“I’m... what’s going on?” You ask. 

“Naturally, when you start something you need to follow through,” he says, “I’ve done and started this, haven’t I?” 

“Started what?” You utter. 

“Can’t take you back now,” he secures the bandage and lets your arm rest over the porcelain. “Don’t get that wet.” 

“Sir, professor,” you sit up, another spiraling sensation overcoming you. You look down and fold up to hide yourself, your exposure tingling over you, “what... please tell me what’s going on.” 

“Would you need help? Cleaning, I mean. Purely practical,” he offers, “I wouldn’t mind. Of course, I did wipe your face already, did my best with the hair...” he sits back on the low cushioned stool he’s on and puts his elbows on his knees, “there is soap and a fresh scrubber there.” 

“Can you please just--” you bluster and a faintness blows through you, sending you back against the porcelain. You slip down dangerously, your arm sticking up against the side of the tub. He catches your elbow, heaving you back up as he bends over you.  

“Yes, feverish still,” he says, “perhaps a hot bath is not the best for it.” He hauls you up and sits you on the ledge of the great basin, “hang onto me then, I will get you washed up.” 

You have no other choice but to obey. The humiliation cannot feed the strength you need to resist. You cling to him with your uninjured arm and lean your head on his shoulder. He pauses before he can grab the scrubbie and instead rubs your back. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” he coos, “yes, right then.”  

His hand lingers before he reaches once more and swipes up the bottle and sponge, moving his arms around you. You collapse into him and groan. At least he isn’t hurting you. Not like Lee. 

[twopoppies]

some words:

i don’t know if anyone here has ever lost a relative, or has ever lost a loved one. i’m sure some people have. but, to those who haven’t, i thought i might share some words. my mom died nine years ago, when i was thirteen. and about a year ago, i lost my dad, too. and the thing is, the grief that comes with losing someone really close is… man. the physical loss is loud. the physical aspect is really painful. it’s like something has been removed, torn apart, ripped from you. the absence keeps ringing, making itself known. to know that person existed and they’re now just gone, as in you’ll never hear their voice again, never see them laugh again, never talk again, never touch. the loss is so deep, so real.

but then, what happens when an artist dies? the physical aspect of loss is not there, because there was never a presence to begin with. so it is so different. it’s not nearly the same pain. but there is something.

i was never a fan of liam payne. i was never a directioner. i started to listen to their songs and care about their careers in 2016, when they were no longer. then i became a larrie, and i became a hardcore fan of harry, so liam was always… there. i was aware of him, i knew some lore, he was in the fanfic i’ve been reading for over five years. if it’d been any other musician, it would be a tragedy, a shock, yes, but it just wouldn’t have affected me. this one felt a little bit close to home. because, even though i’ve never felt a strong connection to him, i do know what it’s like to be a hardcore fan.

being a fangirl has always been a part of me. all my life. it’s the hours you spend in front of the computer, watching videos, interviews, shows. it’s the energy invested. for so many people it is the happiness, the joy, the pleasure of their lives. it’s a shelter from the reality of the world. it’s so important.

now that liam is gone, i feel like the shelter from has suffered a rupture. it’s like someone has dipped a bucket of cold water all over us. these last couple of days have given me the daunting realization that this shelter is not actually safe from the harsh world and its cruel ways. which feels wrong, because this space is supposed to be a protection.

for so many years now i’ve been fantasizing about meeting harry one day. talking to him. hugging him. and when i imagine it, when i picture it, i feel like it’s a real possibility. like it’s gonna happen some day, like there’s a chance. rationally, i know my chances are low. but emotionally, it’s a want, it’s a desire, and, in my daydreams, a certainty. and in my personal feelings, there’s no one else to dedicate these feelings to. he is the artist for me.

to imagine meeting this person, talking to them, hugging them, but knowing that there’s no real, concrete possibility of it in the world? it’s like the end of our deepest affections. i would be so torn. there’d be no one else to admire they way i admire them, there would be no longer a shelter from the world. being a fangirl is so much a part of who i am, has been throughout all my life, so i wouldn’t even know who i am without it.

all of this to say. there’s no physical pain, but there is pain. and it is so significant. my heart is with all of you who are hardcore fans of liam. music, theater, books, paintings. all art that is made in the world has a reason for being. it’s because we need it. we are humans, and reality is cruel. it’s not enough. we need something other, something that goes beyond, to help us get through. to have a rupture in something that is so inherently important is truly devastating. whatever you’re feeling right now is so, so valid. although the loss was not physical, something was taken. and that something runs really deep.

this thing that happened is horrible. i truly feel for liam. he deserved the chance to get better, and to go peacefully, when the time came, gently. this really is devastating. may the hearts of all the ones who knew him find peace.

Thank you so much for this. And I’m so sorry you lost your parents when you are still so young. 🩷

[dragonfly0808]

college advice? i’m starting in the fall 😭

oh FUCK

Kay, so, I’m no professional here but I am about to pass into my 6th semester, so will hopefully soon be wrapping up my 3rd year of college so here’s some of advice

First off, go in the mornings, if you have a chance to do your schedule, go in the morning, it’s so fucking heavy to have to go in the evenings, did that once, never again

try to find a website or blog where students can give teachers reviews, these exist for most colleges and while it can be very hard to build your schedule based on the best teachers and I wouldn’t recommend doing that, it can help you be mentally prepared and know what each teacher values most ahead of time

always have smth to entertain yourself. You WILL have teachers who don’t show up or constantly cancel classes and while its fun using that time to catch up with friends, you should take a book or smth with you to keep yourself entertained during down time

if you have AFI’s (I have no fucking clue what they’re called in english but they’re activities, conferences, talks, outings, stuff like that) check how many you can do per semester and keep up with them, don’t leave them till last minute. For example, I need 14 to finish my career and can do up till 4 valid ones per semester but can only do them till my 7th semester. So check on that if you do have them as a requirement as well

Make sure you check out every part of your campus to know the best hangout spots. This is mostly just for yourself and to not get lost.

Hang out at your library if you have one, check out what they have even if you don’t particularly plan to use that many books, it can help motivate you and find more passion for your career if you’re feeling down or having doubts.

learn how to properly reference articles (perplexity is a great tool to find references)

make sure the teachers at least recognize you and, I would recommend to limit yourself to a certain number of classes you can miss. I try to limit myself to skip 3 classes from each teacher and try to not miss at all, the teachers recognizing me as someone who always goes has given me second chances and opportunities for extra points.

ALWAYS DO OPTIONAL PROJECTS FOR EXTRA POINTS, even if you feel confident in the subject, better to be safe than sorry

carry a cardigan or a light sweater and a small umbrella. You never know what teacher is gonna put the AC like it’s antartica and an umbrella can save you from sunburns and unexpected rain

carry headache pills or any medication you use semi-frequently, also a small utensils kit cause who likes using disposable utensils when you can carry your own + it’s better for the environment, also a hair tie

have an ‘emergency kit’, I have one that barely takes up a lot of space in my backpack and I am just now having to refill it 5 semesters in, I have mini deodorant, a small toothbrush/toothpaste I’ve never actually used, mini wet wipes, mini hand sanitizer, mini perfume, mini brush, toilet paper, band-aids, pads and kleenex.

^ these last 3 are cause my mama taught me to always be prepared and cause I personally can be a bit paranoid, I’m the mom-friend who always has anything anyone could ever need :) so those are according to the type of person you are. I also carry an UNO card game for when multiple teachers cancel on us (yes my backpack is very heavy but the paranoia can’t catch me if I’m prepared)

If you’re propense to low-sugar do NOT skip breakfast and try to carry a small snack, or in general always carry a small snack

if your career involves having to go to the laboratory, LISTEN TO THE INTERNS/LAB ASSISTANTS, half the time, they’ll know more than the teacher

remember, when it comes to group projects, you don’t have friends, you have classmates. Someone can be a great friend but an awful classmate and I am not risking a grade over a lazy friend, prepare yourself to separate those 2

try to figure out what to listen to when doing hw or studying, me personally, classical music (specifically cello music from the barroque period) really helps me focus

ALWAYS DO YOUR HOMEWORK, those are some of the easiest points to get

Finally, don’t be afraid to decorate your backpack! One of the funnest things of college to me (cause I was at a strict school for middle school and spent highschool in pandemic) has been to decorate my backpack with pins!

I’ve found a great thing about college is that genuienly no one cares about your interests and you can freely express yourself without fear of being bullied or ridiculed. Everyone is far too tired or focused to care. At least that has been my experience so far, be ridiculous if you like

I have ATLA pins, an asexual flag, spider-gwen, a matching carebear with my bestie, the school mascot and a dinasour (still looking for a winx pin)

I think that’s all I can come up with for now, so yeah, hope this helps and best of luck bestie!

[upsidedownwithsteve]

If you’re still doing modern requests: could you do best friend/fwb Eddie judging the guys matching with reader on hinge? Could get smutty if you wanted it to maybe???

“No. No. Absolutely not. No.”

You sighed, your thumb cramping up from the amount of times you’d swiped left, rejecting each profile as it flashed across your phone screen. The next candidate was a guy named Kyle, his lips set in a straight line as he stared at the camera, holding a rather lacklustre sized fish in his hand.

You didn’t need Eddie’s advice as you swiped left again, quicker than he could open his mouth, frowning when the boy snorted in amusement. You were squished beside him on his sofa, his tiny Indiana apartment bathed in afternoon sunlight, the kind that only seemed to come from a lazy Sunday, dust motes in the air like glitter, the leftover smell of semi burnt pancakes and syrup accompanying it.

You could’ve moved away, out of eyesight, to the other side of the couch. You could’ve held your phone close to your chest, hiding your pathetic idea of a dating life from your friend. Instead, you dug an elbow into Eddie’s side, triumphant when he grumbled, but you didn’t move away, happy to settle into the warmth of him, a tangle of legs on the cushions. He tapped out a beat you didn’t know on your foot, snapped the elastic of your sock against your ankle and peered at your phone.

The next guy was called James and he was pretty looking, kind of preppy with thick rimmed glasses and floppy hair. He listed his favourite band as ABBA and he liked hiking, cats and scrabble nights on the weekend. Eddie shook his head, curls brushing your cheek.

“He looks like he’s never made a girl come in his life.”

“Eddie!” You were more embarrassed than admonishing, staring at the boy with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, digging your toes into his thigh.

He shrugged, unrepentant. “What?” He asked. “It’s true! He looks like he irons his pyjamas and calls his mom every day.”

“You call Wayne every day,” you reminded him.

“Every second day, actually, and that’s not the point.” Eddie flicked your nose, grinning when you tried to nip at his finger, teeth lightly catching his thumb. “You’re not tryin’ to date me. And this guy isn’t good enough for you, sweetheart.”

You ignored the first part of his statement, stomach flipping. You had tried to date Eddie, once. When you first met, when he was younger and possibly more stupid than ever, when he was oblivious to your flirting. Now you’d given up, settling for friends, maybe even best friends.

“You barely know anything about this guy,” you huffed, “you can’t assume that.”

“Yes I can,” Eddie smiled, smug and all charm, dimples flashing. He leaned in too close, cheek almost pressed to yours as he scrolled through James’ profile. “See? Says his last relationship was over ten years ago, this guy doesn’t have a clue. He couldn’t handle you.”

Steve wandered in from his room at that point, taking up even more of your personal space as he joined the conversation, his work vest hanging off one arm. He was late.

He didn’t seem to care.

“This guy?” He asked around his toothbrush, leaning over the back of the sofa and prodding at your phone. “Not a chance, you’d eat him alive, babe.”

You scoffed, offended at both boys' suggestions. “What’re you trying to say?” You asked them both, glaring at Steve as he wandered into the kitchen, grabbing what was probably your leftover pasta. “That I’m some kind of maneater?”

Eddie chuckled, leaning back into the couch cushions as you kept your gaze on Steve’s, feeling indignant. The boy looked at Eddie for back up, rolling his eyes when he received no help. “Hey, no. I never said that,” Steve placated. “S’just, you know. You have needs—”

“Needs that haven’t been met since Paul and that was what? Like, ten months ago?” Eddie chimed in, still grinning when you rounded on him. If anything, your attention made him beam wider.

“Mr Pressed Pants,” Steve continued, gesturing to your cell, “isn’t gonna scratch that itch for you, sorry. Anyway, I’m late. See you later, losers.” He dropped a kiss to the crown of your head, all mint toothpaste and cologne, slapping a hand to Eddie’s offered one and then he was gone.

“You’re both far too invested in my sex life,” you muttered under your breath, swiping left on James, knowing that both your friends were right, even if you didn’t want to admit it. “Or lack of.”

Eddie sighed, all faux drama and exasperation. He picked at a strand of your hair, arm slung over the back of the couch, warm skin pressed to your neck and shoulders and he twirled the lock around a finger. He was watching you carefully, that smug grin fading into an expression that looked contemplative. But your friend still sounded as bold as ever when he said:

“Maybe you’re just looking for a guy in all the wrong places.”

Sixteen year old Eddie Munson would’ve been shaking in his big, dumb combat boots at the suggestion in his voice, the flirtation in his words. Twenty year old you was warming under his gaze.

You swallowed, throat suddenly thick. “I am?” Eddie nodded, still too close, still pressed against you, still watching, smile growing. “Where do I need to look?”

The apartment was always quieter without Steve, no music from his room leaking under his door, or the constant chatter over his gaming headset. The fridge hummed and you swore you could hear your heart. Eddie shrugged, still silent, before he let your hair fall and his hand grazed your neck, moving to get up. You immediately missed him beside you, his heat, his cologne, smoke and sugar and spice.

He looked at you from where he stood, all dark curls and ripped jeans, rings on each finger, a chain glinting silver from under his T-shirt collar. His pink cheeks were the only thing that gave him away. Eddie took your phone between two fingers, chucked it into the cushions on the armchair when you didn’t protest.

“Outside, maybe?” He suggested, shrugging again. He was studying the kitchen behind you, the mess on the breakfast bar, the pinboard by the fridge that was covered in gig tickets and faded photos. “Maybe at that place you like, the one that does the fancy ass iced coffee.”

You squinted at him, your smiling growing - knowing.

“Yeah?” Your heart hadn’t stopped thundering. “I know the one.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, lips twisting, hiding a smile, hiding his nerves. “I could take you.”

“You could?” You were playing, he thought, almost teasing, not knowing how you felt as nervous as he did, Paul’s and Kyle’s and James’ already forgotten about. You were watching eddie. “Would that be like a…?”

Eddie cleared his throat, chest too tight, skin too warm. He shoved his hands in his pockets and toed at the corner of the old Paisley rug you once helped him carry home from a yard sale. “A date?” He asked back. “One of those?”

You were grinning now, unable to help it, to hide it. You pressed your lips together and hummed, nodding. Eddie was rose coloured now, pink cheeked and flushed nosed amongst all his black and silver. “Yeah,” you agreed. “Yeah, one of those.”

…

[priincebutt]

🖤 for firstprince please and thank you 🤭🤭🤭🤭

🖤 kissing while crying / goodbye kiss / desperation -- send a heart get a snip

“They’re sending me to Earth.”

The words sit between Alex and Henry, heavy and present, like there’s another person at the table with them. Alex’s mind tries to catch up with what Henry’s just said, but his expression is one of pure bewilderment. He reaches for Henry before remembering the guard monitoring their meeting, and thinks better of it. Last time he’d tried to touch his boyfriend he’d been physically escorted out and given a warning: if he did it again, he wouldn’t be able to continue visiting.

“I’m sorry, what?” Alex asks, his voice thick with the confusion that forms his brow into a little v of worry. He leans forward and clasps his hands in his lap, determined to keep his cool. “Earth is uninhabitable. That’s what they’ve always told us. They can’t just… Just because you’re a prisoner doesn’t mean you deserve to be sent to die!”

His last word rings out and Henry flinches away from it. The guard shoots Alex a furtive look but goes back to reading on his tablet, probably the latest news ping that held the report on the oxygen levels lowering, on how they’re running out of time and if the station can’t figure something out soon, there won’t be any hope. A whole civilization, snuffed out in space, another dying star in their own right.

“Research shows that after 100 years the Earth’s atmosphere should have corrected itself. They’re hoping this is the answer to the… the crisis.” Henry swallows thickly and looks away, then finally meets Alex’s gaze again. “My dad discovered the oxygen crisis. He wanted to tell the whole ship and that’s why they floated him. Now everyone knows anyway, and they’re trying to remediate it by sending us down as the test dummies. See if we can survive, if all of the radioactivity and poison is gone from the air.” Henry’s words are brittle with anger. He’d been arrested for being in alliance with his father, helping him crunch the numbers and uncover the ugly underbelly of secrets the Chancellor had been keeping from everyone. Henry’s father, an adult, was immediately killed, sent into space with no gear or oxygen to become a part of the universe again. Henry, being under 18 and still a child in the law’s eyes, became a prisoner to be re-evaluated on his 18th birthday.

It’s only days away, and he won’t even be on this ship to see it. He’ll spend his eighteenth birthday on Earth. And while he’s terrified to leave Alex and his mother and family behind, the thought of this new adventure… well. It kind of thrills him.

“Henry, you can’t go. What am I going to do? You’re going to die down there and I’m just going to have to sit here and live with that? You can’t go.”

“I don’t really have a choice, Alex,” Henry points out calmly. He understands why Alex is upset, but there’s nothing they can do now. The deed has been done. He’s going to Earth.

The guard stands from his chair and looks down at his watch. “Time’s up, you two. Out you go, Claremont-Diaz.” “Just like, five more minutes? Please?” Alex asks hopefully, and finally his hand reaches for Henry’s. When their fingers interlock he squeezes, and Henry feels tears prick at his eyes. He feels guilt for excitement for the upcoming journey to Earth, and a deep sadness over what he’s leaving behind. This has all happened so suddenly, they’d only told him he was going this morning.

“Sorry, no can do. You’re lucky your Ma is who she is and you even get to be here,” he points out. Most prisoners aren’t given any kind of visitation rights, but since Henry’s dad was one of the top scientists who kept this whole space ship up and running, and Alex’s mom’s position as a higher up in their shoddy government system, they’d gotten around it.

Henry can see the panic flickering across Alex’s face, and he squeezes his hand again, pulling Alex’s attention back to him. “Hey. Hey, Alex? It’s going to be ok. Look at me.” Alex’s dark eyes meet Henry’s, and Henry’s free hand comes to rest on his stubbled cheek. Alex’s chest rises and falls on his heavy breathing, and Henry knows he’s on the verge of a panic attack by how far off his gaze is. “It’s all going to be ok,” Henry says with a weak smile.

“Stay alive. Wait for me. I’ll be on the first ship out of this hell hole,” Alex mumbles softly. He lets out a sigh and presses their foreheads together, and the guard starts to say something, but Alex ignores him. If this is the last time he’s going to see Henry, he’s going to make it worth it.

The tears that welled in Henry’s eyes fall as Alex presses their lips together. It’s been months since he’s been kissed, and Henry melts into Alex, lets himself forget that this is maybe (probably) the last time they’ll touch like this. His fingers tangle in Alex’s hair as Alex’s hand rests on his waist, and for a moment they just exist, just the two of them, with nothing to split them apart.

But then Henry’s being wrenched back by his shoulder, and he curses as the guard fastens restraints around his wrists and forcefully pushes him back towards his cell.

“Wait for me!” Alex calls as another guard escorts him out. Henry loathes the desperation, the wetness on his face, this whole situation. It’s all shit. And now he’s got to go to Earth and fucking survive for Alex. He just has to make it long enough for them to be together again.

[gffa]

I saw your post defending the way Jedi adopt the children/accept them into their culture, and I absolutely loved it! It was so well-informed, and you are right: It is all there in the original content!

I find it very ironic that many people spew these lies about the Jedi when that’s exactly what the Empire did. Iirc, this argument of Jedi being “kidnappers” was actually fueled by Emperor Palpatine and the Empire in their campaign against the Jedi. They wanted to discredit them and make the people turn against them so that they could erase them all more easily. So I find it very ironic that these lies are now being upheld by some people as the truth. (Really, have people forgotten the Empire was created bases on the Nazi’s and their own racist strategies?)

You are not inmune to the Empire’s propaganda.

Please correct me if I’m wrong. I’m not as good at pulling examples and proof from all the SW content as you are.

Hi! Thank you for the very sweet ask! Navigating stuff in fandom like this can be difficult at times, because there has to be room for compassion and tolerance for disagreement, like it's fine if people disagree with my views, I'm not your mom, I'm not telling you want to do or say, especially since this is fiction, these are made up space stories. But there also has to be room to understand that sometimes our commentary on fictional stories are echoes of reflection of real world attitudes--we can't just go around spewing racist, sexist, homophobic commentary and be like, "It's just fiction, you can't get upset!" There's no easy line for any of this, no single hard set in stone rule for when it's truly just fiction and when it's an echo of a real world attitude, especially in Star Wars, which often draws influence from a lot of non-Western sources and traditional Western sources. (My general rule of thumb is: I think it's fair to criticize those things through the influences they have, but if your criticism is then ended with, "So that's why we shouldn't have or acknowledge any Buddhism/Black people/queer people/women in Star Wars!" then fuck right on off with that.) And I also understand a lot of the anti-Jedi attitudes (or at least what I've personally experienced of them) because I've talked a bunch of times about how I started out as pretty Jedi-critical myself! I did the whole, "They had grown stagnant and refused to evolve with the galaxy, so they needed to be wiped out." thing because nobody had framed it explicitly as what it was: a genocide. It wasn't until a friend and I were talking and they mentioned that lens of it that it just sort of crashed down on me, oh, that's literally what it was and genocide is never justifiable. I did the whole, "The Jedi failed Anakin and taught him to repress his emotions." thing as well, because I saw it all over the place in fandom and just automatically folded it into my view, until I went back and actually watched Lucas' movies and Lucas' animation (first six movies + first six seasons of TCW) and read his interviews, which blew me onto my ass when I saw Obi-Wan being supportive of Anakin, when I saw Anakin not listening to the advice he was given, when I saw that Jedi were expressing emotion all over the place, when I saw they were respecting other Force traditions in the galaxy. I can't speak to why so many people think badly of the Jedi, there's probably a thousand reasons and I'm only vaguely aware of like half of them, but I do think that it's often unpopular to promote the idea of emotional regulation already being achieved, instead of something to be struggled with. I think we're all primed by a lot of mainstream media saying that an explosion of anger is what will save the day. I think there's so much anger in the world today that we're all angry and being told to let go of it feels really insulting at times. (But, as someone who has lost years of my life when I was younger to anger, I gotta say, I am so much better off having let go of as much of that shit as I can. It was poison in my veins, carrying that anger around. I lost so many friendships and opportunities and just time to being miserably mad about stuff.)

I'm getting off topic of the kidnapping aspect about the Jedi, but a lot of it starts to swirl together in what I've experienced (especially people who try to put this stuff on my posts--thankfully, that's died down/I block the people who won't respect boundaries) and so I kind of bounce from one aspect of it to another.

I do think it's good to talk about these things--both from "it's fun to analyze the content of the story on a meta level" perspective and "here's how this echoes into and from the real world" perspective, like I enjoy saying, okay, here's what's actually said in the movies/TCW, but also I think talking about how the Jedi are Buddhist influenced is important because that means they're going to have values that are meant to be reflected in that and Western fandom has a really big problem of being derisive about non-Western influences or automatically saying they're wrong. (I come from anime/manga fandoms, let me tell you, it's a big problem.)

And, yeah, in a way where it's really awful, but I think one of the most well-done things Disney's Star Wars has done is that it's really focused on showing that the Empire was a fascist one and the propaganda they used about the Jedi are ones that are super relevant to the conversation.

[crow-raven-crow]

Can you write a Larissa Weems OS where Reader was looking after a bunch of kids and when she wanted to talk to a misbehaving child they run away so she grabs them and sets them on a table to taln to the kid eye to eye the kud kicks against the bench before the table and it falls on the readers foot. Larissa comes in with the mom of the kids, because the mom is Larissa's friend Reader offered to watch the kids, to see Reader holding back tears and a quickly swelling foot takes her to the doctor and they find out the toe is broken and Larissa comforts the Reader (that is an actual thing that happened to me on monday and I'm craving some comfort from Larissa) but write it only if it's ok for you

𝐌𝐲 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

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𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: description of pain, broken bones, crying, emotional tightness (holding it in), rapid thoughts, FLUFF

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: see ask above

masterlist

AO3 link in title

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𝐚/𝐧: Hey Crimson! Ty for the ask - i think this is actually a really cute idea.

HOWEVER

I’m so sorry that happened to you! That seems crazy, and I hope that your recovery goes smoothly!

I had to ask my friends and one of them thats in the med program here about breaking bones - what it feels like, what you’d get afterwards, etc - because I’ve actually never broken a bone before (HEAVILY knocking on wood rn). I tried to do this justice - i did change it sliggghhhtttlllyyy BUT I hope you enjoy!

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The rapid sounds of small, running footsteps and loud, excited screams filled your ears the closer you got to the little playground that was adjacent to the prestigious academy for outcasts. You had been a professor there for quite some time. Working with unique species and developing teenage brains every day surely gave you more tosses and turns than you expected to face when you had applied for the job some years ago, but you loved it regardless.

You pushed yourself to be someone for the students to feel comfortable reaching out towards and, in the process, created a home for yourself here with the help of the amazing principal (and now wife) Larissa Weems. You realized you fell hard for the woman after just a few months of working here - her captivating personality and kindness towards everyone made your heart swell after being enticed with the professional that could gain a rooms attention just by being present. Lucky, your company had given her butterflies as much as hers gave to you. You constantly helped each other get through the issues the growing minds threw at the both of you.. though, there was a part of you that always enjoyed the little ones.

In your spare time, you often found yourself at the daycare for outcasts that was right next to the school to give a helping hand. It was something that Larissa added when the population of outcasts grew larger. Being able to provide for this community was something you both held close to your heart, and there was a big part of you that was excited to have a child of your own. Seeing the little ones grow into their abilities was something you always found fascinating, but you always made sure to give them the most reassurance you could muster - the smaller ones often being confused and scared of something they didn’t understand quite yet.

You were lucky to find them at their playtime break outside. During this time of year, you always let out a soft chuckle when you saw the children wrapped in their winter coats and bundled up in their beanies and scarves their parents provided them - the puff of the fabrics making the children take up three times the space than they normally would. Seeing the little frosts or yeti children always concerned you at first glance in the winter - not needing such things due to their nature - but you soon got used to the sight the more you came here.

The main daycare teacher was standing next to the light post that lit the playground in a golden glow under the overcast sky. Her name was Olivia, and you’d grown closer to the younger woman the more you offered your help. She often stated how you were like an older sister to her - a thought that warmed your heart every time. She hugged her body close, the chill of the outside world going through her coat, and you couldn’t help but give a weak smile.

“Hey, Liv,” You said while wrapping your coat around the woman. “Is there anything I can help with today?”

“Y/N! Hi, thank you..” She tugged the thick coat closer to her body as she let out a shuddering breath. “We’re just staying warm, for now.. If you wanted, could you prepare some hot chocolate for when it’s time to head inside? I’m sure a lot of them will like the drink to warm up..”

You nodded and went to head into the building that stood behind her, but something caught your eye. A little lycan boy, who you immediately recognized as little Connor, was kicking and throwing wood chips in areas where other kids played. A small tsk left your mouth as you walked in his direction.

“Connnnoooorrrr?” You said with a playful lift in your voice. At the sound, he shot his gaze to you and screamed excitedly before bolting in a different direction. You decided it best to run after him, he was on a little mischievous streak after all.

“I got you, little one!” You boomed in a light tone. You didn’t want the kids to ever hold guilt for a situation but for them to understand what they were doing wrong, so you were always playful then serious when explaining, ensuring that they learned from their mistakes.

“Watch me make hot chocolate while we talk about why we don’t throw wood chips, hmm?” You picked him up as he agreed and wildly giggled, though a trouble maker, he was one of your favorites.

After helping him out of his coat, you settled him on the front table so you could look at each other at the same height. You didn’t want to intimidate him and wanted him to be honest with how he felt - it was the best move bringing him to your level.

You walked over to a cabinet to get some cups and chocolate mix. He watched your every move in genuine curiosity, your movements swift but not fast enough to disturb him. You walked back towards him, waiting for the liquid to warm before stopping in front of him.

“Now.. what do you think caused me to bring you in here, little wolf?” You watched him fidget slightly, refusing to answer for a moment. You took the moment to walk off and make him a cup of hot chocolate to warm up. While handing it to him, you spoke again.

“If I recall..” you started, offering him the small cup which he gladly accepted. “This is an issue we’ve had before, yes?”

“Yes, Ms.Weems,” he replied softly into his cup, his eyes moving to yours before his focus moved back to the drink.

“And what did we say the solution was, hmm?”

“If I want to do that with the wood chips then I should go off to the side where it won’t hit anyone..”

“That’s good, Connor. I’m glad you remembered that because we don’t want to have a repeat of-“

“But it wasn’t hitting anyone this time!! This time no one got hurt!!! Why can’t I keep doing it there!?!” The big outburst of energy from the small child caused a few things in close proximity to knock over with his quick feet and rapid moving arms. Some markers and a few plastic cups fell to the floor. The worst of it all was how his feet sent a chair down to the ground with a few large bangs that echoed throughout the room - the end of your foot breaking most of the fall…

The chair bounced off your foot and brought another wave of pain as it landed there again. At the first initial fall, a loud yelp left your lips as your eyes squeezed shut from the first wave of pain. You moved to catch yourself on a nearby desk as the chair settled itself on the floor. You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes before you could even process the severity of the situation.

Oh.. this certainly didn’t feel right.. You couldn’t bare to move your foot as an overwhelming warmth spread throughout your body - starting at the tip of your toes and quickly moving up to your head. Small waves of pain started there and made it hard to focus on anything else, making your body shudder as each one ran its course.

The sound of heels echoing down the hall registered in your mind, though the pain was so overwhelming that you didn’t give it your undivided attention or curiosity.

“It’s always so good to see you, Serenity. It’s lovely catching up with you. Let’s go ahead and grab little Connor, hmm? Right in here and- oh, y/n! Y/N?!” The beautiful accent filled your ears and eased the pain for what felt like seconds. Next thing you knew, the lovely woman was by your side softly rubbing your back. “My love, what happened?”

“Connor.. he-” you were cut off as another wave of pain vibrated through your body. She helped settle you on top of a desk and tried her best to get you to explain through the pain - every touch she gave was gentle and comforting, the love she held for you being transferred through her fingertips. Your throat burned as you attempted to get more words out, your breath running shorter by the second. “I-I don’t blame him- There.. was a little outburst but I understand why-”

Tears were now slipping from your eyes as the adrenaline slowly wore off - handing you the pain in tenfold as you held Larissa’s sleeves in a vice grip in attempt to ground yourself. Her eyes rapidly examined your face as she processed each of your words.

“Somethings broken..” You weakly managed to say, in between breaths.

Larissa, being the goddess she is, was able to handle the situation with a professional face - even if her insides were screaming at her to move and quickly get you to the hospital. She got the pair home and was able to update Olivia on the situation before helping you to the car. Her comfort never left you - a hand tracing patterns along your thigh and her angelic voice reminding you to breathe whenever your mind was too focused on the pain.

The trip to the hospital was a quick one - your wife becoming sick with worry after seeing you in so much pain caused her to make moves she wouldn’t normally make with a level head. By the time they had run all their tests and fully taken care of you, the sun had left the sky, causing the overcast atmosphere to run completely black.

Larissa walked into your room with an empathetic frown on her face. The sight of you in the hospital bed asleep with your foot elevated in a cast brought a spike of pain to her heart as she settled herself next to you. She brought your hand to her lips and kissed each of your knuckles.

“You really are something, Y/n..” She whispered, a small chuckle leaving her mouth.

You awoke a few moments later to a nice tingling feeling dancing patterns along your arm. As your eyes opened and took in the environment around you, your heart swelled as your eyes met captivating sapphire ones - you wife absentmindedly scratching along your forearm softly.

“Riss..?” You croaked out, your throat slightly dry form being out for so long. You attempted to sit up more, only to be met with a firm hand pushing you back down. You allowed the bed under you to capture your full weight as you watched your lovely wife grab a water bottle from beside her. She lifted it to your lips gently, waiting for you to drink, with her hand held out underneath to catch any water that would happen to slip from you.

“The doctor said we could go home whenever you woke, but I don’t want to leave here until you’re fully awake and ready, okay? One of your toes ended up breaking, so you’re going to have a cast for about four weeks, my love..” She brought the water down, after it seemed you had enough, as she answered all your unasked questions. “A crutch was given to you to refrain from putting too much weight on it.. and it’s advised to keep your foot elevated as much as you can..”

You threw your head back and let out a frustrated groan as the reality of the situation fully processed itself in your brain. “Can I go back to teaching though?” You asked, your voice laced with a bit of sadness because you didn’t want to set aside your passion for too long.

This caused the tall blonde to let out a loud laugh, you following in suit because you could never deny the bubbly feeling that rumbled in your chest every time you were able to make the sound come from your lover. She brought a hand up to stroke your cheek softly, your body naturally leaning into her touch.

“As your wife.. I’d appreciate if you took at least a few days off. As your boss, though.. I am making you take a few days off.” She said, laughing at her own comment. This was a little game she liked to play every so often and it never failed to make a smile grace your features. You loved how much she cared for you, and this little move was something you did to each other much more at the beginning of your relationship but said every now and then still.

After a while, you were ready to go home, ultimately just wanting to cuddle up with the sapphire beauty under some blankets and relish in each others company. Adjusting to the crutch was definately something that you would have to get used to, something your wife tried to hide her laugh at. The bruises from catching yourself so hard were making themselves known, after a while - something Larissa couldn’t help but notice.

Your determination brought you out of the room and far down the hall before you had to stop and allow your body to catch up. Just as you were about to start again, you felt two strong hands at your waist move to your upper back and your knees. Letting out a small yelp as you were lifted into the air, you looked back only to be met with your wife’s confident smirk being thrown back at you.

“Having some trouble?” She asked, the mirth laced in her tone caused you to let out a laugh.

“You know I had it.. but thank you, love..” You replied, nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck. With every breath you took, you inhaled more of her scent - the vanilla and rose making a warmth settle in your chest and a small blush sit on your cheeks. You truly would never grow tired of this.

“We can practice more as the weekend comes..” She said as you felt her strong strides make their way towards the outside of the hospital.

“I don’t know..” You said with a playful tone. “I could get used to this~ You could be my crutch,” you added with a giggle. The small comment made the blonde chuckle and look down at you. There was nothing but love and adoration in her eyes, and it never failed to give you butterflies.

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek and kissed along her jaw to place an ending one on her lips, appreciating the light lipstick stains they left in their tracks. You settled back into the crook of her neck as exhaustion from the day was finally catching up to you.

“I love you, Riss.” You said as your eyes fluttered shut softly.

“I love you too, my darling girl.. Now, lets get you home.”

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𝐚/𝐧: hi everyone :)

I haven't been on my socials as much because I just finished my first week back at college (YAY FOUR DAY WEEKEND - i have no friday classes cuz my schedule worked out) so I'm still slightly adjusting

BUT!

I spend some of my free time trying to write so when I saw this ask I was ONE honored !! like guys this is my first ask this was so cute ! I hope you guys liked it ! and TWO i started on it right when I saw it. It's nice to get a little break form my other writing to get some more creativity flowing

I'll be on here and my other socials more on weekends since I don't have classes, but since this is a passion it won't be strictly weekends lmao. ill be floating arounnnnnndddd

I hope you enjoyed this one! I'll be changing my page around a bit after I post this so it's on my pinned :)

~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐯𝐲𝐧

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𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: (tagged anyone who asked/wanted to be on the "all works" taglist)

@eveymay

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not reconnecting with my brother?

I (21x) have a really complicated relationship with my brother (18m), not helped by the fact we both live with our mom right now. He’s had a really hard time in his life, with having anger issues, ADHD, what we both suspect is NPD, and our family being. Dysfunctional at best and neglectful/borderline emotionally abusive at worse. We both know that our family wasn’t particularly good for us, but we have pretty different approaches on how to deal with it/how we feel like it’s effected us.

This is where some of my (100% AH) behavior comes in- I was incredibly cruel to him as a young teen (12ish) and basically belittled him and pushed him away at every opportunity. We used to be intense but loving with each other and I feel like I took that and made him feel like he couldn’t love or trust me (which he’s told me himself multiple times). I know I failed him as an older sibling and I hold so much regret and shame for not nurturing him into all the good he held (and still does).

Where it gets rocky is our current relationship. I hate to say this and I’ve never said it to his face, but I feel like the roles have completely swapped. He talks over and down to me, gets incredibly upset when I won’t drop everything for him (I won’t get into it bc this would turn into a long vent but he once got legitimately mad at me for days for not giving up my bed and bedroom for him out of nowhere because he didn’t want to be in his anymore). He’s called me every cruel name under the sun, and when I fight back or our fights get ugly, he reminds me it’s all my fault he’s like this because I ruined our relationship. I’ve tried to heal from my own separate trauma and mend our family situation but whenever I talk to him it’s like I regress into a fawning doormat who never challenges the way he absolutely steps over me and puts me down (my friends have talked to me about this and have come down a lot harsher than me, so I’m borrowing their words because I can’t let go of the fact he’s not. Wrong to be this upset with me- I’m a victim of emotional abuse in my own right and I know how it feels to be wrapped in fear and hate and don’t hold it against him that he’s been hurt by me).

I’ve wanted to be a better sibling for a long time, and since about 16 I’ve made a conscious effort to shelf my pent up resentment and hurt emotions to try to always understand him and give him space to be upset, plus always taking the step to reconcile and apologize for my part to play in arguments. I refuse to call him any of the horrible names I used to (bare minimum I know, but I’ve really worked to diffuse that anger and make sure everything I say isnt an attack on him personally and only ever touches oh his current actions) and I try every diffusing move in the book with only framing my feeling as mine and not reflective of who he is and how I want to know his feelings so we can work to understand each other and move past the proboem. But he still treats me like an unstable, untrustworthy bitch who “emotionally manipulates him” by breaking down crying when he calls me names and tells me I’m stupid and he’s above my level of intellectual thought and rationale (I wish I was joking but he has directly said this, almost word for word).

I’m at a big crossroads. I want to keep trying to show him I love him and want him in my life, but it feels like he’s given up on me. If he truly has, I think I have to accept it as part of my failures and shames, but he also tells me he wishes I spent more time with him and that he wants to have a relationship with me. AITA for trying not to engage with him anymore? I want to support him but when he treats me badly if makes me regress into anger and like I’m just digging myself deeper and I’m never going to be good enough to be part of his life. I don’t know what to do with myself and how to live around him when a conversation as small as asking him to do the dishes turns into him berating me for being a nagging stupid asshole.

What are these acronyms?

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Francis Drake Main Story

This is simply a fan translation and is not intended as a replacement for the game. Expect grammatical errors.

Minor spoilers ahead.

I returned to the mansion alone and quietly closed the door.

(It was here that I first met Drake.)

(To think that this would also be where we part ways.)

As I touched the door that stood between him and me一

Napoleon: “Mitsuki!”

Mitsuki: “Napoleon, everyone.”

Everyone in the mansion rushed to join me.

Comte: “We got worried after reading your letter. Are you okay?”

Mitsuki: “Yes. I’m really sorry for worrying you.”

Vlad: “Mitsuki, did you go through the door?”

Napoleon: “Did you go after Drake?”

Mitsuki: “Yes. I went to settle things.”

Let’s rewind time a bit.

------------Flashback-----------

Drake was leading me through the dark hallway while holding my hand. After confessing our feelings on that cliff, we returned to the hallway that transcends time and space.

Mitsuki: “The mansion’s doors were experiencing some spatial anomalies, yet this place seems fine.”

Drake: “Probably because I’m here now.”

Tilting his head, he tugged at the harness belt wrapped around his shoulder and waist with his thumb.

Drake: “This thing acts as a stabilizer to keep us from getting lost in here. It’s keeping this place stable.”

Drake: “My genius partner created this.”

Mitsuki: “There’s such a thing?”

Drake: "Yeah. Well, his genius led him to bear a responsibility that went beyond simply designing a door."

(Is the person accompanying him the designer of the door?)

I heard Comte and Vlad build the door using a blueprint Vlad happened to come across.

Could it be that Galileo drew the original blueprint?

Drake: "So, what will you do, fawn?"

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Drake: "Right now, you can go wherever you want, whether it's the 19th century or the 21st century where you originally lived."

(----!)

Faced with an unexpected choice, I could only stand there, bewildered.

(The place I want to go...)

The place that came to mind was neither the 19th nor the 21st century.

Mitsuki: "I want to go to a certain place and confirm something."

Mitsuki: "It might be harsh for you, but..."

(I want to check it for his sake.)

The place I wanted to go was...

Drake: "This place..."

The location we visited was the garden of the old mansion一the place where Drake and his mother were captured.

Peering into that cruel hall from the garden, it seemed like the young Drake had already escaped, as there was no one there except for a woman crucified, her chest drenched in blood.

Drake: "You understand, right? We can't interfere with the past."

Mitsuki: "Yeah, I know."

He averted his gaze, seemingly avoiding facing whatever was in front of him.

This place probably still hurts him.

(I'm forcing him to confront painful and difficult memories.)

Even knowing that I was doing something terrible, I still held onto his hand and mustered my courage to step through the window into the room.

And then, amidst the choking smell of blood, we walked quietly toward his mother, her chest stained red.

(I really don't want to intrude at this moment.)

But if my guess was correct...

(I want him to know his mother's true feelings.)

She probably could no longer notice us as she was looking down, her tear-stained lips faintly moving.

Drake's mom: "That's right, run away, Francis."

Drake: "----!"

Drake's mom: "Sorry. I'm so sorry. Since giving birth to you, I've only brought you pain."

Drake's mom: "You can hate me, but please, survive."

Drake: "Mom..."

Drake's mom: "I love you, Francis."

With words of repentance and love, she breathed her last, uttering her son's name.

(Just as I thought.)

After shouting that she shouldn't have given birth to Drake, her lips seemed to move again, saying, "I'm sorry."

Mitsuki: "Maybe your mother tried to let you escape and intentionally pushed you away because she loves you."

This was the truth hidden behind the betrayal.

Drake: "Ha...hahaha..."

Drake: "Is this even possible?"

Drake dropped to his knees, covering his face with his hands.

(Believing in something is very difficult, especially when you're consumed by sorrow and anger.)

However, feeling his pain and learning about the hope he had held deep within his heart, I felt that I could confirm it once more.

(The difficulty of believing and the strength to overcome it.)

(My encounter with him taught me that.)

I leaned my cheek against his trembling back and gently hugged him, wanting to ease the despair he had been carrying since childhood.

Drake: "Hey, Mitsuki."

Drake: "Is it okay for me to believe those words?"

Mitsuki: "Of course."

Drake's hoarse voice was both heartbreaking and precious.

Drake: "Mitsuki."

Mitsuki: "Yeah?"

Drake: "Thank you. I'm glad I could hear those words."

Drake: "You've managed to overturn things again."

Drake: "Not that I mind, though."

(Drake...)

Gently narrowing his eyes, he held my hand and smiled.

It was a calm smile, different from his usual easygoing and fearless one.

This sight was probably the real him.

(His smile has always made my heart flutter, but right now I'm even more happy.)

Drake: "Hey, Mitsuki."

Suddenly, his voice and expression turned serious.

Drake: "Loving you made me realize there's something in this world worth believing in."

Drake: "But, you know, my hatred and despair towards humans and vampires haven't completely disappeared from within me."

Mitsuki: "Yeah."

(Human emotions are not that simple.)

Even if a ray of light shines through, I don't think it can melt his frozen heart instantly.

Mitsuki: "But it's precisely because I've witnessed your despair that I want to be by your side."

Mitsuki: "I want to live together with you."

(Since he's someone who can even throw himself away, I want to be there to lighten his despair a little.)

Drake laughed as I stared at him with such hope.

Drake: "Haha! You really are a kind soul, aren't you?"

Drake: "I'm glad to hear you say that, but I'm sure you'll struggle with our incompatibility."

Mitsuki: "That's not..."

Drake: "You can't say that with absolute certainty."

Drake: "You've probably cried and suffered, knowing my betrayal and desires."

He traced my cheek with his finger, as if there were still traces of tears.

(Could it be...?)

My chest tightened in unease as I anticipated what he was trying to say.

He smiled, covering the sadness in his eyes, and continued.

Drake: "Making the woman I love cry is enough for one night."

Drake: "Besides, it wouldn't be fair if I go back and there's someone I can't just leave behind."

Drake: "It might not be enough to make up for what I've done with the guys, but I'll make sure their precious little treasure gets home safely. Then I will disappear from your life."

(........)

His gentle smile and determination made my chest ache.

(I could finally touch his heart, and yet...)

I decided not to betray this love, but...

Mitsuki: "Is that what you really want?"

Drake: "Haha! That's a sneaky question."

After letting out a smile, he held me tightly.

Drake: "I thought about kidnapping you to the end of the sea where no one could chase after us, but..."

Mitsuki: "Drake..."

Drake: "But you have your own future that you believe in."

Drake: "A future full of hope and positivity, a future I never wanted."

Drake: "That's why I can't stay by your side."

His strong embrace seemed to express that he didn't want to let go, but at the same time, it clearly conveyed that this would be our last encounter.

Drake: "Hey, Fawn, would you like to make one final bet?"

Mitsuki: "What kind of bet?"

He let go of me slightly and lifted my hand.

Drake: "The fate of this world diverges into countless futures."

Drake: "Will everything meet its demise as I wish, or is there at least one future filled with hope, as you believe?"

Drake: "It's a bet on an endless future."

(But that's...)

It's an uncertain and endless gamble that spans across time and countless futures.

(Oh, I see.)

(So, this is his way of saying goodbye.)

Drake: "If I win, I'll come to take you."

Drake: "When the world falls apart, you'll be by my side. I promise."

He confidently laughed and made an impossible promise.

I mustered my courage and also made a bold statement.

Mitsuki: "So if I win, you're mine?"

Drake: "........."

Mitsuki: "Your heart, your trust, and you. I want it all."

Mitsuki: "You'll give up your wish for destruction, live with me, and be mine alone."

(Will I take him or will I be taken by him?)

A bet where we seek each other, a bet that will never lead to a conclusion, and a promise only to engrave each other in parting.

Drake: "Haha! You're even more greedy than me, little fawn."

Drake: "Yes, your majesty, as you wish."

Drake: "When you win, you can have me."

With a tender gesture, he kissed the back of my hand.

In the hallway that spans between the past and the future, we silently gazed at each other and gently exchanged our final kiss.

---------Flashback Ends--------

Mitsuki: "After that, I parted ways with Drake on the other side of the door."

I recounted all the events that had taken place to Comte, Leonardo, and Vlad.

I told Drake's life as a Dhampir, his despair towards humans, vampires, and the world, his desire for destruction, and the existence of his companion named Galileo.

Mitsuki: "I'm sorry for being selfish."

Comte, with his fingers interlocked and listening intently, slowly nodded as though digesting my words.

Comte: "Thank you for telling us. So, you came back to the 19th century to convey all that."

Leonardo: "For Drake, the historical figures who interfere with history are not only targets of his hatred towards vampires but also crucial sources of the destruction he desires."

Comte: "So it seems that the one distorting fate is an everlasting flower, after all."

Mitsuki: "Comte, I don't think that's true. We can't predict how anyone will influence history."

Comte: "You're right. Thank you, Mitsuki."

Vlad: "I'm also wondering what the architect of the door, Galileo, was thinking when he leaped through time."

Vlad, pausing slightly, continued with a somewhat melancholic tone.

Vlad: "I used to think that dhampirs were born from the coexistence of vampires and humans striving for harmony. But even there, persecution arises. Why does the sorrow continue?"

Leonardo: "The divide between races is an eternal dilemma for not just vampires but all beings in this world."

------------Flashback-----------

Drake: "The divisions among races are the root of fear and hatred. With that alone, anyone can become as cruel as they want."

Drake: "Whether human or vampire, their essence is the same. Hatred spreads through living beings as part of their nature."

---------Flashback Ends--------

I recalled the words Drake once uttered almost dismissively.

(There are humans who fear and hunt vampires, and there are purebloods who scorn humans.)

(And in between, there are dhampirs who lose their place.)

Through the incident with the hunters and Drake's past, I have witnessed the sad circumstances in which they persecuted each other.

(It's true that differences in race can give rise to fear and hatred, but...)

Mitsuki: "It's up to us to change the future. We can change it as much as we want."

Mitsuki: "I don't believe I have the power to change fate like Drake was talking about."

Mitsuki: "Even so, if the sad fate that originally existed somewhere has changed, I think it's because we, living in the same world, aimed for a better future together."

(Like the pureblood who loves humans, like Drake and I falling in love, we can coexist beyond our races and change towards a hopeful future.)

(We just need to believe.)

Believing made me feel connected to him, even though he was no longer here.

Leonardo: "That seems like something you would say."

Vlad: "True. Even if people call it idealistic, I want to believe that."

Smiling at each other, Comte looked at me with a slightly lonely expression.

Comte: "Should we leave Drake's room as it is?"

Comte: "A pirate needs a place to come home to, yeah?"

Comte's suggestion was probably out of concern for Drake and me.

(If Drake's place remains, even if just a little, I would feel a little comforted.)

Mitsuki: "Thank you, Comte."

(But...)

Despite expressing gratitude, my heart was tightly gripped with pain.

(Drake won't come back anymore.)

Previous Part ╎ Romantic End ╎ Dramatic End

[cellarspider]

3/30: Meet David

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

⛬

We return to the movie I want to bite down on with all of my teeth, Prometheus.

This time, we meet a man so bored he has invented new solo sports and started doing his hair like his blorbo, T.E. Lawrence. 

Meet David (Michael Fassbender). He’s implied to be a little over two years old, and he’s been completely alone for the vast majority of his life.

Actually, I lied. The movie first wants to throw another small strain on our suspension of disbelief: David has a VR visor he can use to view the dreams of the human crew in suspended animation. This is technically a plot point, and thus it is delivered with all the grace of this deer.

I cannot emphasize enough how clunky the movie becomes when plot or deliberate character arcs are being communicated through dialog scenes. 

We find out from dream-peeping that Elizabeth Shaw’s father (horror actor Patrick Wilson) was a devout christian of some variety, possibly a missionary, and her mom  died when she was young. She was given a cross necklace, which we see in blurry montage-o-vision before David wanders off.

We see David’s routine: Pick up tiny specks of dust, send out first contact messages and receive no response, perfect the lonely sport of solo bicycle-riding shootout, eat android breakfast and take a Proto-Indo-European language lesson, watch Lawrence of Arabia (1962) while dying his roots, quote the most Definitely Not Suffering line to himself over and over again as he does his hair like Peter O’Toole and wanders the halls, waiting for something to happen. “The trick, William Potter, is not minding that it hurts.”

David is going to later profess to have no emotions, but I think that given the chance, he would at least admit his enclosure needs enrichment.

This is one of the strongest scenes in the movie. David is a novel creation of humanity, and he has been left alone, with only the memories and dreams of humans to extrapolate off of. He has been abandoned without thought for his needs, stuffed down into Plato's Cave. We don’t know yet whether the people on the ship see him as a person, but we know they’re thoughtless in how they’ve treated him. He’s bright, he’s inventive, he’s chosen a way he wants to be seen, but he’s seen by no one. 

I’m sure this is going to turn out great for everybody.

And as a side note, while I didn’t know it at the time, David’s language tutor is the actual historical linguist that they employed for the movie, Anil Biltoo. His and Fassbender’s pronunciations were strong enough that even a hobbyist in linguistics could tell that they were really, really trying to get it right. They even reference Schleicher’s fable, the first piece of text anyone ever created from reconstructed Proto-Indo-European. This level of nerdy detail made me excited.

Side note to the side note, Biltoo also has an introductory textbook on Sanskrit you can buy, if you’re a maniac like I am.

This scene kept part of me hopeful for the rest of the movie, because it’s so strong. The “not minding that it hurts” line is a little on the nose, but overall it has the feel of something that could be expanded into an extremely melancholy short film. Or, hell, a Tarkovsky-esque feature film. Moon (2009) could be another point of comparison. In any case, this scene gives you a little space to feel all the quiet suffering of David’s existence. 

But unfortunately for the movie as a whole, this sets David up as the most sympathetic character. I personally had already been drawn in by the promotional “advert” for the David-8 model android (see part 1). Now I was invested in this particular David’s story. The rest of the film didn’t manage to yank back much sympathy for anybody else. 

Because the general vibe I soon picked up from the rest of the crew was that they were absolute hooting jackasses.

⛬

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

⛬

Sources alt-text facts:

1. https://www.denofgeek.com/movies/how-ron-perlman-nearly-ruined-the-alien-resurrection-basketball-shot/  2. https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0766970/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cl_t50

[hoshibatake]

FREEDOM – Reality and Freedom/Chapter 2

Previous chapter

<Several days later. In the fictitious city “FREEDOM”, Hokuto’s district>

Mao: “This place is so calming. There’s lots of empty space～. Though, there’s still a bunch of talking dinosaurs wandering around.”

Mao: “In any case, it’s the perfect spot to escape reality for a while...♪”

Hokuto: “What are you talking about? This is not the time to be loafing around.”

Subaru: “That’s right! Our fans are waiting for us!”

Subaru: “It’s time for a concert! Concert, concert, concert～☆”

Mao: “Calm down, will you? Listen. We’re running on fumes here.”

Mao: “It’s been one calamity after another, so we should take a rest for now…”

Hokuto: “Just think of it as a trial to overcome. What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.”

Subaru: “Yeah, yeah! We can’t just stand here doing nothing, or we might worry the fans by making them think we’re going on a break.”

Hokuto: “Exactly. And we have to make up for Yuuki’s absence too.”

Mao: “That’s true, but～…”

Mao: “*sigh* Can we really go on like this?”

Mao: No, it’s a truly impossible situation.

Subaru: Nice one. You replied to your own question☆

Hokuto: Can you really say that he replied to his own question, given that it was posed by his avatar, who is practically a separate person?

Subaru: I think so. Their data was based on us, after all.

Subaru: Hmm. But since they do have their own will, does that make them separate people after all?

Subaru: What is your verdict, Isara Mao-sa～n who is in charge of explaining stuff?

Mao: Does it matter? What’s more important right now is the problem that the virtual Trickstar is facing.

Mao: Lately, their efforts have been leading them nowhere.

Mao: Fires have been breaking out during their concerts, and their concerts are attracting fewer and fewer people, outside of their core fanbase. Ever since Makoto left, they’ve been handling things in a sloppy way.

Mao: Honestly though, I never would’ve thought Makoto would suddenly decide to go solo.

Mao: Even if it was caused by a bug, I was convinced he'd have rejoined right away. And he’s been coming by Trickstudio noticeably less as well.

Mao: I wonder where he’s holed up and what he’s doing～

Subaru: Don’t you think Ukki～’s probably got some kind of plan?

Mao: I’d like to hope so…

Mao: Looking at our avatars reminds me of the way we used to be, though. Back when we were a bunch of nobodies at Yumenosaki who no one was paying attention to.

Subaru: Oh, yeah… I remember Ukki～ doing a bunch of things to help us.

Subaru: Like using his internet skills to pull our background music from the school server when it wouldn’t play on its own. Or making sure everything was in order for our concerts, or helping in setting up the stage.

Subaru: And the fans loved the way he always seemed to break the tension. Because of Ukki～, we were able to hold concerts without worrying about things going wrong.

Hokuto: That’s right. And when Isara was unable to attend because he was too busy with his Student Council work, he would function as an emergency brake for Akehoshi, since he’s prone to recklessness.

Mao: I feel like you’re just as likely to act recklessly, though.

Subaru: Exactly. Ukki～ is my and Hokke’s emergency brake☆

Subaru: I’m so used to having him around, that now that I’m watching the virtual Trickstar perform without him, it makes me a little sad.

Mao: Yeah. It makes me realize all over again that we really need all of us.

Mao: Only all four of us together are Trickstar, after all.

<The next day. Shopping center>

Subaru: ...Mom, why are you stopping in front of the general store?

Subaru: They’re selling clothes for dogs? Hmm～, but I feel like Daikichi doesn’t really like wearing stuff like this.

Subaru: Plus, it’s kinda manly to walk around in the rain without a raincoat.

Subaru: You found something that’s perfect for him, you say? Let’s see…

Subaru: Ahaha. What’s this? It looks like the kinda bib Kintarou¹ wears. It has “Daikichi²” written on it. It looks so cool～

Subaru: Even if he doesn’t wanna wear it out on walks, he might put up with it if it’s just for a photo. It’s half price too, so let’s get it♪

Subaru: While I was in school, you were busy too, so we didn’t get to go out together like this a lot. I’m happy we can go shopping together on weekdays now.

Subaru: It’s quiet everywhere, so we can take our time looking around the shops. The privileges of being an adult～☆

Subaru: ...Huh? Over there, isn’t that…?

Subaru: Wait a sec, Mom! I see a friend of mine!

Subaru: He～y, Ukki～!

Makoto: Whoa, Akehoshi-kun…

Subaru: I’ve finally run into you. I feel like I haven’t seen your face in ages.

Subaru: Uhm… That lady standing next to you must be your mom, right? Your eyes look almost identical.

Subaru: Thanks for always taking such good care of our Ukki～☆

Makoto: Ahaha… I think that’s my mom’s line.

Subaru: Hmm, what’s up, Mom? ...Those cleaning supplies?

Subaru: Oh, you’re right. Hey, Ukki～’s mom! It’s probably better not to buy that cleaning brush!

Subaru: They’ll tell you it cleans really well, but the maintenance of the brush itself is a pain in the rump, so you’ll have to buy a new one in no time flat.

Makoto: I see. You’re pretty well-informed, huh?

Subaru: Heheh. Actually, my mom bought it once after falling for their slogan: “Even the most stubborn dirt will vanish before your eyes.”

Makoto: I see. Thanks for that helpful information. Both me and my mom lack a lot of life skills.

Makoto: ...Hm? You want to chat a while with Akehoshi-kun’s mom, Mom?

Subaru: Oh, right. The two of you have never properly met before, have you?

Subaru: Of course, of course. Me and Ukki～ will go wait on that couch over there.

Subaru: Later, Mom. Take your time chatting with Ukki～’s mom☆

Makoto: ...They seem like they’re having fun chatting.

Subaru: Yeah. It’s a little strange～. We’ve known each other for so long, but our parents have hardly even met before.

Subaru: Though I guess it’s no wonder, since my mom has distanced herself from the world of idols.

Makoto: Akehoshi-kun…

Makoto: ...But that might change in the future, right? She didn’t seem bothered about talking to me, after all.

Makoto: And she’s laughing with my mom as well. Maybe they’ll hit it off and become friends as moms.

Makoto: That would actually be a relief. Even to this day, I still worry sometimes about whether she’s actually managing to live well now she’s on her own.

Subaru: Ahaha. Ukki～, you’re such a worrywart☆

Subaru: I’m actually more worried about you, though.

Makoto: …?

TL notes:

Kintarou is a figure from Japanese folklore. He looks like this.

大吉 Daikichi’s name means “great fortune/excellent luck”. 

Translated by me, proofread by Altea (@icaruswasthesun on Twitter)