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moonandstarshyuck · 21 hours ago

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"Always."

lando norris x gn!bf!reader

notes: I haven’t written since 2019, so bear with me. I’ve found myself thinking about a little blurb for Lando recently (actually a lot of ideas, but this one is sticking with me more than the others at the moment).

For some context, Lando’s been receiving a huge amount of hate online (and in-person) recently. I haven’t been a fan for that long—I got into F1 this summer, in 2024—but I’ve grown to care about him. I was there for Lando losing the championship, and while I think we all knew it would come to this (Max winning felt inevitable) but I’m proud of Lando for pushing so hard this entire year.

Still, with all the hate directed at him, I’m seeing a new side of him, and I’m learning that he’s a person with feelings like anyone else. I can tell he doesn’t always have the highest opinion of himself and tends to take the blame for anything that goes wrong during his races. What struck me about this is how much I relate to it. I blame myself for things out of my control or when I mess up. What sucks with Lando is that his small, human errors are what so many people focus on to criticize him—whether it’s why he didn’t win the championship or why they think he’s a bad person (which he absolutely isn’t).

The inspiration for this came from an interview he did after the Brazilian GP. At that point, everyone knew it was almost mathematically impossible for Lando to win the championship, and he talked about struggling in the aftermath: “I literally couldn’t sleep for the first two days…So I did like, what, 36-40 hours straight. So that probably made everything worse. When you’re tired, you’re more moody, and that kind of thing…I was just sat at home alone. It probably would have been better if I had been with my friends. But they don’t live in Monaco. They also have lives and are busy doing other things. And I’m a big overthinker, so like the whole flight home, the whole week, it just played over and over in my head. What could I have done differently? Why did I do that? Why did I not do this? You start thinking of all the scenarios that you kind of blame yourself for, why it’s now not possible, that kind of thing. And yeah, because I overthink and I struggle with that kind of thing, that took a bigger toll in the days after. It wasn’t an easy time.”

And I keep on finding myself wishing someone could have been there for him in person, so that he was okay. So, I wrote this. The reader in this is dating Lando but is written as a gender-neutral character that uses They/Them pronouns. The reader also has a service dog, a Bernese Mountain Dog named Thunder, to help with their own depression and anxiety (I’m not an expert on service dogs, so this many not be 100% accurate).

They woke up that early morning to the sunlight shining on their face, streaming in from the window outside. The bliss of sleep clung to them as they lay there, cocooned in warmth, the covers snug around their body. They stretched lazily, blinking their eyes open.

Instinctively, they turned to look beside them—only to find the space next to them empty. It’s too early in the morning to be anywhere else but in bed, even for training, they thought. Lando should still be here.

The realization pulled them out of their sleepy haze. The past couple of days had been not kind to Lando. They knew that he had a tendency to keep his feelings bottled up and beat himself up over his perceived failures. They understood that feeling all too well—the guilt, the constant sense of disappointment, the nagging thought that were never good enough. They had wrestled with those feelings since they were a child.

It wasn’t something that had an easy fix. If they had found the answer, they would have shared it with Lando years ago. But they had learned that the best way to fight those thoughts wasn’t isolation. Talking to someone, writing feelings down, even simple positive affirmations—thought they might sound silly—could help push back against the negative spiral. They had told Lando this countless times.

But Lando had a problem with not wanting to “inconvenience” anyone with his emotions. No matter how many times they reassured him that they were always there for him, he struggled to let himself. They didn’t blame him—it was human to struggle against your own mind.

What made everything worse was the constant online hate. Every little mistake or sarcastic comment from Lando seemed to turn into an avalanche of criticism. They remembered the first time they’d seen him like a hateful comment about himself on Instagram—the little heart next to a cruel statement, paired with note: “Creator liked this.” It had broken their heart. How could the Lando they loved ever believe such awful things about himself?

After Brazil, it had been clear that he wasn’t okay. He’d barely spoken since coming home, choosing instead to himself. They had given him space, hoping he’d find a way to process his feelings. But by the second morning, when he still hadn’t come to bed—almost forty hours after returning home—they knew they couldn’t stand by any longer.

That morning, they rose slowly from the bed, a plan beginning to form in their mind. Lanod needed someone to step in—someone to remind him he didn’t have to face his struggles alone. They were determined to be that person for him. They couldn’t take it anymore, seeing the person they loved so badly, punishing himself over his ‘failures.’

The first step was to confirm where he was. Grabbing their phone, they opened Twitch and navigated to Max’s stream. After a few moments of watching, they heard Lando’s voice—tired, strained, but unmistakably his. He was joking with Max, his words clipped, like he was holding himself together with sheer willpower. It was enough to break their heart. They opened their messages with Max.

Thunder's Owner

Lan’s streaming with you rn?

Sent at 7:48 AM.

After a few seconds, Max replied.

Maximilian

Yeah he’s on voice-only.

Sent at 7:50 AM.

Gonna do something about him?

Sent at 7:50 AM.

Max knew. Of course he did. He probably heard the exhaustion in Lando’s voice, the edge self-loathing that came with overthinking. They typed back quickly:

Thunder's Owner

Yeah

Sent 7:52 AM.

Going to unplug his setup and drag him out of there.

Sent 7:52 AM.

Maximilian

Lol.

Sent 7:52 AM.

I’ll keep an eye out for when he disappears.

Sent 7:53 AM.

Thunder's Owner

Thx

Sent 7:54 AM.

They quietly made their way to Lando’s gaming room and eased the door open. Lando sat at his desk, controller in hand, headset clamped over messy curls. He looked worn down, his shoulders slumped as he focused on the screen. His voice through, muted put playful, as he bantered with Max.

For a moment, they just watched him. Even now, he was handsome, but the tiredness in his expression made their chest ache. He deserved rest. He deserved to feel okay. And he wasn’t going to get that by sitting here punishing himself.

As soon as Lando died in-game and leaned back in his chair, they seized the opportunity. They crossed the room, catching his attention when they came into view.

“Why’re you—” Lando began, frowning, but they didn’t let him finish. Reaching down, they unplugged everything from the wall.

“What the hell—” he exclaimed, spinning around in his chair.

“No,” they said firmly, cutting him off. “I’m not you hurt yourself anymore. Get up.”

Lando blinked, clearly taken aback. “You can’t just do that!” he protested, but they were already tugging gently at him arm, urging him out of his chair.

“Angel, what are you—”

“No,” they repeated, their voice steady. “Get up,”

Lando hesitated for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh and standing. They took his hand, leading him out of the gaming room and down the hall to the living room. He didn’t resist, but he followed like a man in a daze. Once they reached the couch, they turned to him. “Sit,” they said, pointing at the cushions. Lando raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to argue, but they shook their head. “Stay.”

They turned to Thunder, who had been waiting for them in the hallway, and told him, “Thunder, guard,” while pointing at Lando.

The dog immediately moved into position, standing alert in front of the couch. Lando’s eyes widened slightly as Thunder fixed him with an unblinking stare. He shifted as if to get up, but Thunder’s stance didn’t waver.

“Jeez, I wasn’t going to get up,” he mumbled to Thunder, but Thunder just sat there and watched him until he fully relaxed back into the couch.

The thought ran through Lando’s head, how he had honestly forgotten how menacing his own dog could look. He knew Thunder was trained, saw reminders of it daily with how he interacted with his partner, but he was still shocked at how trained Thunder really was at that moment.

Thunder was still staring at him when he pulled out his phone from his pocket, opening up his texts with Max.

I was just dragged out of my gaming room and told to sit on the couch and like a dog.

Sent at 8:05 AM.

Not against it, but how tf did they get so determined?

Sent at 8:05 AM.

Thunder’s watching me right now.

Sent at 8:06 AM.

I forgot how menacing he could be.

Sent at 8:06 AM.

*Picture attached.*

Lol.

Sent at 8:06 AM.

Max (The 1st One)

He’s like ‘try me, I dare you’

Sent at 8:06 AM.

Yeah, I don’t particularly want to try him

Sent at 8:07 AM.

Max (The 1st One)

Lol.

Sent at 8:07 AM.

They told me before they did it

Sent at 8:07 AM.

I just let them. Lol.

Sent at 8:07 AM.

Helpful. What if they were trying to kill me?

Sent at 8:08 AM.

They wouldn’t have had to if you kept doing what you were doing.

Sent at 8:09 AM.

Lando’s let out a quiet sigh, Max’s words sinking in. He glanced at Thunder, who hadn’t moved, and felt a pang of guilt. He’d pushed himself too far again, and this time it had clearly worried his partner.

A few minutes later, his partner walked back into their living room. He thought they looked beautiful, wearing one of his old t-shirts and a pair of boxers. They were entirely focused on the bowl they were carrying, and only looked up when they got close enough to hand it to him. He gently took the bowl, looked into it and saw it was one of his prep meals. While not his favorite breakfast, he knew he just needed to eat first, so he started taking bites.

He glanced up every so often, and each time he did, his partner was just sitting there and watching him eat. Lando almost chuckled at his own thought that they looked just like Thunder when watching him, and he smiled into his bowl at the thought. His partner didn’t see his smile, but he continued to eat until he had finished the bowl.

When he was done eating, he set the bowl down, and his partner again pulled him up by the crook of his arm. He just let them do so, having a thought of what was going to happen next.

His partner led them both down the hallway to their bedroom, and opened the door, leading him to sit on their bed, then they turned around and went to close their blinds and draw their black-out curtains to cover up the sunlight from the window. They had turned on their bedside lamp earlier, and the soft orange glow of the lamp permeated the room. They walked past him again, going to close the door after letting Thunder in, then they walked back to their side of the bed, and pulled him to lie down against them.

As he settled against their chest, he felt a bit odd, it being a bit of a difference to feel how much he was loved by them. How much they cared for him. And he finally spoke again, “Thank you.”

“Always, Lan. Always.” They replied, pressing a kiss to his hair.

And for the first time in days, he let himself sleep.

author's note: got inspired to actually write something for once...ty @koalapastries for the inspiration (unknowing inspiration but ty) (also sorry for using your layout outline

comments & reblogs appreciated

and i made the dividers :)

#formula 1 x gn reader #formula 1 x male reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x gn!reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando x reader #lando x you #f1 x you

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jaggedamethyst · 18 hours ago

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bucky barnes and his physical media

pairing: bucky x reader, use of she and girl once or twice

content: bucky is obsessed with physical media, especially photos…but he hates being in them. you try to change that.

notes: minors dni, slight smut but it’s honestly pretty tame here, some obligatory bucky angst. i don’t believe in proofreading I fear.

word count: 1.8k

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Growing up Bucky quickly gained a fondness for cameras. He loved to capture the images of those he loved--moments in time for which he could always look back on when he missed them.

He considered himself a confident guy and took said pictures at any opportunity he was given. He figured someone would always want to look at a face that perfect, if he could say so himself.

It was different, though, when the reflected images no longer were of the young man so keen on going to war. When the moment in time was one that could only elicit one of fear. He couldn’t recognize himself these days, not after being the Winter Soldier. The man was now adamant about not having memories that preserved him as he was now. Not when he was a shell of the man he’d known years ago.

If he absolutely had to take pictures, he was even more sure it would never be on a fucking phone. Not only are they the most fickle objects imaginable, he also hated the damn cloud. He wasn’t entirely prehistoric; he understood when people said that it was a way to store things…but a cloud. He’d had one too many mishaps with technology that things randomly disappearing from the cloud was not too far fetched in his mind. If he had to preserve something special to him it would absolutely be in an album. An album was tangible, and if it came to it, he could easily grab the stack of them in a hurry.

Physical media was absolutely near and dear to him. Whenever an old show was nowhere to be found, he clung to his DVD sets like a lifeline. The same could be said of his photo albums. They quickly became a way for him to reclaim some of the power he felt was lost with his mind. But taking pictures and storing them, to him, was therapeutic.

That's how he ended up with several albums on his shelf. Some were miscellaneous, ones that had yet to be sorted. Others solely for pictures of nature that he found calming to look at.

Nothing compared to the album he had of you, though.

An inadvertent smile would always creep up on his lips when his eyes met the spine of your album. Just the sight of your name sprawled in his handwriting was enough to make him feel warm inside. Inside were photos of you, some candid, others posed. He hated pictures, but for you he would at least attempt to stomach the feeling .

He flipped through the pages as he always did, feeling sort of proud he’d managed to take such great snapshots in time..and even more that he preserved them without the damn cloud.

Bucky made note to add more to this album; it wasn’t nearly as full as he’d like. With that, he swiftly closed the album—a gust of air causing one photo to fly out of the book. He grabbed the print that lay at his feet, not thinking much of it other than it would be returned to its rightful place among the other portraits of his girl.

As he flipped the picture, a heat quickly spread across the man’s cheeks. Oh. He definitely was not expecting this.

A selfie. Yes, that’s what it’s called. He’d learned that word a while ago. Somewhere in time he also learned that while people could be “in the nude,” they’d also referred to risqué photos similarly. Yes, a nude was how he would describe this one.

The man had seen many works of art in his day. Some of which were dedicated to his friend for his accomplishments in war. Others, of objects, like how Bucky would leisurely snap a photograph of a bird sitting stoic in a tree.

None of that compared to the polaroid he’d laid eyes on right now. His thoughts reeled in his mind, observing every detail. He knew it was hard to capture yourself in frame with these print cameras—no clear indication of what was in focus. But you were skillful.

The sun cascaded over your body, highlighting your skin in a way he’d never seen. He couldn’t see your face above your lips, but they curled in a way that seemed purposeful. How he’d do anything to see your eyes reflect the light of the sun that day. He slowly placed a finger on the photo, tracing the curve of your neck…your shoulder…your fingers.

No. He mentally groaned. The curl in your lips, a smirk, made sense now. You’d covered yourself where he wanted to see most. Hands crossed over your chest but your skin remained bare, teasing him. He felt so disgusted with himself even thinking this way, wanting to see more. It’s not like he hadn’t already, but in this moment the taunting imagery drove him up a wall.

He’s not sure when exactly he’d sat down on the couch or when his pants got to be pooled at his ankles. He’s even less certain of what time it is, but your footsteps approaching his door bought him back to reality. You’re off work.

The now strained fabric of his pants irritated him. Not only did your nude leave him extremely worked up, but he didn’t even finish before you got back.

Your voice resounded from the door, “Buck! I left the key, can you open up?”

“Coming!” He froze, an audible huff leaving his nostrils at the poorly timed reply.

He placed the photo in his back pocket before stalking towards the door.

With a swift swing, the door opened to your smile on the other side. Unlike the mischievous smirk that was printed in the picture in his pocket, this one was borderline affable. He let out what could only be described a a mixture between a scoff and chuckle.

You quirked a brow, “um, what's funny?” You rounded the space left by Bucky’s shoulders, making your way towards the kitchen.

“Nothing,” Bucky replied with a hint of sarcasm, “just had a bit of a weird day.”

“Really?” You turned to start the faucet, washing your hands before looking for something to drink. “You…wanna talk about it?”

The man felt his chest continue to rise and fall at an erratic pace. As the water continued to trickle he became painfully aware of the situation in his jeans at the present. Fuck it.

He reached for his pocket, quickly whipping the film towards your back.

He tried to level his voice in an attempt at asking his next question in the most nonchalant way he could muster. “Baby…what’s this?”

You craned your head away from the faucet a bit, “huh?” Grasping a towel, you slowly turned towards the sound of Bucky’s voice. “What’s wha- oh-”

An obvious shock appeared on your face but had he not looked close enough he would have missed it. The shift to an indifferent facial expression perplexed the man--even more when you replied in a chipper tone.

“Oh! I just got this new camera the other day at the store.” You moved past him, turning the corner and heading down the hall towards the junk closet you guys kept. He followed your movement with his eyes, stuck in place with pure intrigue. The distance and scrambling left your voice low to his ear. “You wanna see it? It's so cool and it wasn't too expensive!”

He moved back towards the couch, slouching a bit. “Sure, baby.”

Bucky twisted his head at the sound of you walking, no skipping, back towards the living room. “This thing is so easy to use, Buck. I feel like a pro like you.”

“I am not a pro,” he mumbled, his hand meeting his forehead.

He felt a hand on him, brushing his hair back. The nudge forcing him to lift his head to meet your eye. You’d knelt on the floor in front of him.

“I,” you planted a kiss on his cheek, “think you are amazing at taking pictures.” A pause loomed in the air, “but I wanted to do something for you…show you can be a great subject too.”

You placed a finger on his shoulder, urging him to lay back. “You should get comfortable, Buck…because this,” you gingerly plucked the photo from his grasp “is just the first installment to an amazing collection I think we will have.”

Bucky absolutely needed to work on his recollection skills—his ability to focus too. He again found himself with his pants down and no idea of how he’d come to be that way. This time, a cool breeze swept against his chest—his shirt somehow flung across the room. He absolutely did not mind, though.

The way in which you seemed to be skilled at everything truly blew his mind. With only a hand pumping him up and down, slowly at that, he’d found himself writhing against you. Whispers fell on deaf ears, as he’d quickly become overstimulated from his lack of release before.

“I- I-,” he stumbled as he usually did with you. There was no time when you were together when he didn’t feel at a loss for words. But here, with himself dripping all over your hands, your eyes looking at him expectantly, and your gentle lips grazing against his skin—he was struggling to even say more than one syllable.

You assured him, “it's okay, I know.” Simple words, but enough to make his insides tingle.

“Fuck…please,” he uttered your name. “I can’t-“

Your soft hands grasped his face again, a silent request for his eye contact.

It was so unfair, he knew that she knew that’d be his weakness. As quickly as it started, Bucky would finally finish. A feeling of euphoria and relief rushed the man, his skin prickly and glossed over with sweat.

“This is perfect,” he lowered his head a bit to see you back on your knees, this time holding your hands up. An arched brow raised on his face once more…you could be so damn elusive sometimes. At a further look, he could see you there, one eye closed. He searched between your hands, they were making L shapes in the air.

“Actually perfection,” you said with a flourish of your fingers. You leaned back, grasping your camera from the coffee table. “Now, be good James and don’t ruin my work.”

“I don’t know what you mean-“

Your finger met his skin, softly mixing in with the wetness now drenching his lower abdomen. He felt you marking a shape into the puddle—a heart?

Before he could even register, a flash. You’d taken a photo.

“Like I said, perfection.”

You left the polaroid beside the other on the coffee table, planting a kiss on the man's lips this time.

Bucky’s smile creeped up on his face, a happiness enveloping him.

“I think we need a new album.”

#marvel #marvel mcu #jaggedamethyst #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader

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ilikeyoshi · 1 day ago

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"#yes yes yes!!!! #and ngl it makes me want to read or engage with it more too!"

i hope it's ok to point out these tags bc this is SUCH a huge mood i think deserves a little more explanation!!!! (at least from my perspective as both a creator (writer) and fan (of artists))

i used to have a ton of anxiety when creating and especially sharing my works, and my impulse was always to talk down on it, because a) i* (*my anxiety) believed it to be bad, and b) because i had this idea in my head that if i lowered people's expectations, they wouldn't be as disappointed when reading it.

i want to tell you what i've learned in my years of both being a writer and being a fan of artists, and it's that this is a terrible, terrible anxiety fallacy (like so many ideas/misconceptions borne of anxiety are) that ONLY hurts you, your work, and your potential readers(/fans/etc). it SOUNDS like a good idea when you have really bad anxiety, i know, i used to DEPEND upon this idea just to have the courage to SHARE my writing—and i want to emphasize that it's OKAY if you've done this before, it's an easy, easy trap to fall into, but i also want you to try and stop doing it because there are a lot of reasons you would feel better and do better for doing so.

you are what you practice! if you only ever focus on or speak about the flaws in your art, you WILL feel negatively about your art. my very first therapist explained it in a way that still really resonates with me: you have created a well-beaten, highly trafficked "road" in your brain. it is very easy to take this road because even though it's longer to your destination, it winds and bends, it's walked on so much it's flat and easy to traverse. when you try to build a NEW path—in this case, a path where you focus on what you like about your art—you're starting with no path at all. it's all undergrowth and vines and thorns and it hurts and it's tiring and you feel like this will NEVER be easier or feel better than the old path. but you have to keep taking the new one. you have to beat down the undergrowth until it recedes, cut down the low-hanging branches until you can walk with your back straight, and if you keep at it, if you keep at this thing that feels so pointless and stupid and hard, eventually, the path will be clear, and easy to walk, and you'll make great time getting to your destination because it cuts straight through; no winding or bending. and the old path? it will overgrow, and it will become hard and stupid to take. you have to beat the new path because once it's beaten, it'll be the far superior path in every way, including ways the old path was never superior even when it WAS the one you were always taking.

further—as these tags point out, and as i agree with wholeheartedly—by disparaging your art, you DO lower people's expectations. people don't want to be sad, frustrated, disappointed when they look at art—at least, not unless the art itself is trying to tell a story about that. you get what i mean, i hope—they don't want to go INTO something they already HAVE negative reviews on—your reviews! you, the creator, have already told this person the story/art/whatever is going to be bad, and i know, i KNOW it's not your intention, you're hoping someone will see through what you can't and tell you no, no, this is good, i liked this! and some people do! but you make it a lot harder for them TO do that when you tell them right at the beginning, "this is going to be bad, i don't like it," because what you're unintentionally telling them is, "and you probably won't like it either." the first way i learned this was in people always saying in their fanfic summaries, before you even open the fic, "the summary is bad, i'm bad at writing summaries, the story is better trust me bro." because what this does—again, so unintentionally, i KNOW what you're trying to do because i've been you—is you're telling the reader, "here's my pitch, here's the hook to my entire story, it's the worst part, it's bad, but the rest will be better," and what they KNOW is they've already put the time in reading the summary, and it's hard to commit MORE time to something when you've already told them it's bad, even if you promise the rest is better. it's like biting into a fruit and you hate the taste of the skin; it's harder to try the rest of the fruit when, so far, it's been bad (or you've been made to believe it's bad).

so what's the solution? how do you begin beating that new path? well, it depends on you. everyone's a little different in how they navigate stuff like this. but what worked for me, and what might be a good place to start (and by all means adapt as you figure out what works and what doesn't), is start by just NOT saying anything negative. no, "i don't like this," or "the summary's bad, sorry," or anything. write your artist's comment, author's note, whatever as normal, and REMOVE anything that depicts your art/writing/etc in a bad light. just don't give people any opinion whatsoever on what experiencing your creation is going to be like. this, for me, was easier than jumping straight to, "i'm pretty proud of this," or "i enjoyed working on this," because it wasn't withholding AND replacing, it was JUST withholding. going back to the roads and paths metaphor, i think of this part as the "taking a breather before i get to work on this monumental task of beating this new path" stage.

then, overtime, i started "stretching" my positive comments about my works. if i liked, say, TWO LINES out of a whole piece of writing, i'd say, "i'm really proud of this work!" because i AM proud of ANYTHING AT ALL, NO MATTER HOW SMALL, within the work. it's not a LIE, to anyone including yourself, but it is, perhaps, an EXAGGERATION. that's OKAY. we're trying to teach our brain to look on the bright side, to take the new path, and i've found that treating it a little bit like a dog—giving it a treat for ANY TINY BIT OF PROGRESS, was a good way to encourage myself to start making MORE progress. ESPECIALLY because the tags i reposted above are RIGHT: LOTS of people are MORE interested in a work when their very first impression (YOUR impression!!!) is positive. 'the artist/writer/etc is proud of this? oh, i'm so glad they had a good time creating, let's take a look!" it probably sounds too easy if you're still taking that anxiety-beaten road, i know, but try to think of how you've felt when someone disparages their creations versus uplifts them. were you put off by the negativity? were you sad that your friend worked so hard on something and didn't even like it? conversely, doesn't it make you a little excited when an artist says they really feel good about something they made, especially in a world where so many artists ARE feeling inadequate? i hope you see what i mean.

it's not an overnight thing, of course, this took me YEARS. this took a miracle that doesn't happen to most people: i wrote something i felt SO TERRIFIED people wouldn't like, even though i was secretly very proud of it (but too scared to dare suggest i was proud of it), so i indicated all kinds of things like "i hope you like it, i dunno if it's any good, it's just a little thing i'm chipping away at in my spare time" (it was not, it was a full-blown passion project) and, against the odds, a LOT OF PEOPLE told me they really really really liked it. a couple of friends who were decently popular in the fandom it was for liked and shared it and i got A LOT of encouragement. i basically got to beat my new path with a HORDE of helpers, and it was more like THEY beat the path for me and i chased along like, "what is happening, oh my god, what are you doing???"

i got really lucky. that doesn't always, or even usually happen. in most other areas of my life, i've had to beat the path myself. and it takes a long time if you're doing it on your own. but you should anyway, because it's so fucking worth it dude. yeah, it was awesome to get so much help with my writing confidence specifically, but it's been just as worth it every time i've had to do it alone too. and i have good news! there ARE ways to tell people you're on this journey of making yourself a new path. here are some suggestions:

"i'm new/rusty at this, so please let me know what you think!" - informs potential readers/viewers/etc you are learning and gives them an opportunity to HELP you learn. this is a positive interaction! this allows people to find a GOOD experience EVEN if they didn't enjoy the story much, because they can help, and people DO, MOSTLY, like to help.

"i want to improve at [dialogue]" or "i'd appreciate advice on [lighting]." - similar to the first example, but does 2 things: gives viewers specific instructions that can be really helpful for those that aren't sure how/what to critique (surprisingly common thing; the more specific you are about what you want advice on, the more likely you are to GET advice), AND allows you to, neutrally and non-disparagingly, ask for help in areas you don't feel confident about.

"leave a comment if you liked it!" or "let me know what you liked best!" - listen. i don't think 'fishing for compliments' is bad as long as you're not being manipulative about it. these examples are very clear in what they're asking for, which is compliments, positive reviews, etc. and that's okay!!! first of all, lots of people LOVE praising works they like, i promise, and asking them to DOES make them feel like they have "permission" to (i know that sounds silly but i also know if you have anxiety about creating, you have anxiety about commenting, i see you, i was you). secondly, i have gotten the MOST encouraging, confidence-boosting comments this way, especially with the latter example. there is NOTHING more immediately anxiety-curing than a comment that says "i liked [scene/dialogue/character/etc] specifically." it's AMAZING. (also, if you're looking for advice on commenting, this is a GREAT thing to do. imo, this and "speculating/interpreting the work" are the two coolest comments i get they make me feel AWESOME.)

remind yourself, as many times as you have to, CONSTANTLY if you have to: likes/kudos mean someone enjoyed your work enough to press a button. views mean someone liked your work enough to click through for more. these are POSITIVE interactions, they are not "less positive" than comments or reblogs/reshares. i know those last two things are more obviously gratifying, and depending on if you NEED your work to spread (for exposure/commision prospects/etc), very good, awesome ways to support you, and i don't mean to say you shouldn't WANT comments and reblogs/reshares. but for me, it's helped me a lot to recognize that any bit of effort whatsoever means someone LIKED my work. it's also helped me to think of all the times i've shared a link to an artwork in a discord or something, and know that there is an entire, untangible metric i can't and will never see that, sure, i can choose to believe doesn't exist or isn't very high, but i can ALSO choose to believe it happens quite a lot, and the latter makes me FEEL better about my work and makes me want to create MORE, so i think that's the more productive mindset personally. it doesn't matter what the truth is, you know? we'll never know it and it doesn't harm us to never know it. but it DOES harm us to assume no one quietly, unseen by us, likes our work, and it DOES ENCOURAGE US to assume lots of people do.

here's the thing: anxiety disorders fuck you up by making you believe extremely negative, scary, depressing things. the disorder gets worse the more you allow it to make you believe these things, and the only way out, as stupid and hard and at times impossible as it feels, is to say, "no, i don't like that interpretation, i'm going to replace it with a positive one." anxiety is making paths all throughout your brain, and you have to just, make paths too. anxiety needs YOU to make paths, but YOU don't need anxiety to make paths. your paths WILL be better, safer, easier and happier. you just—and i know that is the biggest "just" ever—have to make them.

but i believe in you. i don't need to know you or your circumstances to believe in you. i believe in the sheer amount of control you have over how you face the world. and it's so much more than anxiety would lead you to believe.

i looooove seeing artists & writers proud of their work!!!!! i looooove captions & authors notes that say things like “i’m quite happy with this” “i love how this turned out” “i had so much fun making this”!!!!!! i loooooove when the act of creation is joyful & we take pride in what we make!!!!!!!!!!

#yoshi talks #this is so important to me and those tags really resonated with me and reminded me of my own journey into getting to that point a lot #most of all: keep creating. and keep beating paths.#<3

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le-fruit-de-la-passion · 2 days ago

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Does a bad ending ruin a good story? A comprehensive guide to my feelings on the Arcane finale

*Spoilers for Arcane season 2*

So. You just finished the show, and you're staring at the screen in bewilderment. Perhaps you’re even with some friends, shouting words of confusion to the rolling credits. Try as you might, you can barely hear them, because a single thought echoes in your mind and pushes away any other:

“What the fuck just happened?”

If this happened to you, then boy oh boy, we're on the same boat. If it didn't, well, I'm glad for you friend! We might not have been looking for the same things from this story. But this is my post, meaning I will give my opinions (which are objectively correct because this is my blog and I'm the mayor here) on everything that Arcane broke and failed to deliver in its last 2 episodes.

Let's start with characters, and why none of it mattered.

Jinx symbolized the fear we all have of not belonging somewhere, of not having anything to call home or anyone to call a family. Her anger stemmed from wanting to carve a place in a society and a world that had so harshly rejected her (i.e., Vi leaving her). Her existence was a huge middle finger to all that refused to let her live, a fight to build herself something wholeheartedly hers (hence her being an inventor). It was proof that despite the world telling her she was better off dead, she would never stop fighting to prove it wrong.

… and she died.

She died, and that means all the suffering she went through to exist simply amounted to nothing. She left nothing behind either, no trace of a legacy, something that would have left her mark on that world. Isha, the child she raised as a daughter, died. Silco, who she taught love and care to, died. Vander, who she brought back from years of trauma and torture, died. Jinx fought so hard to live, and in the end, it was as if she hadn't lived at all.

Viktor is most certainly the character that made me the angriest, because of how attached I am to the person he is in season 1 (and even the first two acts of season 2 to an extent). Everything that made him so beautifully complex… gone, in about 10 minutes. There was NO reason to make him the surprise ultimate villain. Viktor had always, always been a pacificist. That's why he was so adamant Hextech not be used as a weapon. That's why every time there were chances to test hextech to hurt, he tried to learn how it could heal. Yes, his fusion with the hexcore had changed him; but NOT into a man who didn't care for human life. He wanted to help all the hurt done to his people. People like him, living day to day in the undercity, but who had never gotten a chance to crawl out of their hell. His community was about HEALING, not controlling. The very IDEA that he would accept killing innocents and ally with Noxus, the warmongers, is so ridiculous I could genuinely laugh if it didn't make me so angry. The show needed an easy, black-and-white showdown to conclude a story that would have needed so much more time to tell. And they chose Viktor. Because it was the easy way out. It was the perfect foil to the return of the Golden Boy. And that PISSES me off.

There is this really shitty concept in popular media that the handicapped/chronically ill character is always in the pursuit of being “cured” and that they need outside help to realize “that their imperfections make them perfect”. Fuck. You. As someone with chronic illness and who just finished beating blood cancer, fuck you. That realization, that you're you with every part of your being, even the ‘bad’ ones, cannot come from outside. It's YOU who needs to learn it. It's you who needs to discover how your body and your mind are so much stronger than you previously thought them to be. Not your lover, your family, your friends, or God forbid your able-bodied lab partner. You. Others may tell you as many times as they want your illness doesn't define you; it won't matter until you, yourself, have understood why and have accepted it. Having someone swoop in and “fix” Viktor with a “you don't have to change uwu” is just….. so reductive I can barely find the words for it. That was VIKTOR’S path to find, and not Jayce’s role to find it for him.

Also… Viktor wasn't trying to ‘fix’ his leg; he was trying to find a cure to a deadly illness ravaging his body and no doubt the bodies of many in Zaun. The HELL is the message here??? That he should have just rolled with it because the deadly illness was part of him??? Again, as a cancer survivor. Fuck right off.

Of course, I can't just ignore the hideous get-up they put him in at the end. The man who laughed at Jayce's narcissism….you want me to believe… he would put on that fucking edge lord costume and not DIE of embarrassment??? The design makes no sense from a narrative standpoint either: if his cane has become the sceptre, why is he still keeping it? He doesn't need it anymore to walk, and it's a reminder of his weaknesses as a human that he apparently hated so much. Why the hell does he keep it then? And the hexclaw. Where did that bad boy come out from?? Did you all see a secret extra bonus scene where he steals it from the lab, because I sure didn't. It doesn't add anything to his sets of powers either it’s… it's a fucking laser gun. WHY. And oh sweet god that mask… there would have been so many ways of designing a mask more meaningful than the one from LoL. This one is just. A piece of metal he spawned in embryo. Get it? Because he's made of metal now and also hiding his face means no more humanity? Get it?? Of fucking course you do, because this was the easiest and worst possible way they could have integrated the mask.

Viktor and Jayce had a fantastic dynamic in that Viktor had started out as the loner, the underdog scientist from the slums; while Jayce was the leader figure, living in comfort that made him attachingly naive, his face plastered on posters stroking his ego. The shift is delightfully slow, as Viktor gains in confidence and determination to see his invention through no matter what, while Jayce is confronted with harsher and harsher truths about the world he so blissfully ignored. By Act 2, they have fully switched roles: Viktor is now the leader figure, a symbol of the future for the people, while Jayce is desperately alone, both physically in the hexcore anomaly, and mentally in being the only one who has seen the devastating future. Excellent stuff. What would be a great way to push these parallels further and to show the complexity of these characters, and perhaps how they can balance each other out? Well, Fortiche sure didn't know, now Viktor is the bad bad guy and Jayce is mister hero. Zaun bad, Piltover good. All nuance, gone. Proving that indeed, the man from poverty and inequality turns out evil, while the one from comfort and wealth turns out to be the hero of the story. The whole “giving a warm speech to the bad villain about how you care for them, somehow immediately changing their ways, and dying together to save the world” can work well in shounen anime where friendship is magic, or in the Ben 10 live-action movie (yes, that's the plot, I thought that wasn't deep when I was like 7 years old so imagine now), but not in a show like Arcane. Not with the ethical and moral nuances they have accustomed us to.

And now, let's explore...

Plotholes and incomplete storylines galore.

Ekko’s tree and the contamination of Zaun from Piltover? Fuck that. The huge showdown between the two opposite yet sister cities, like Jinx and Vi, that has been built up for two seasons? Fuck that. And for what?

For the Noxus sequel teaser.

Mel’s plotline about finding her mage origins had NOTHING to do with the main plot. Absolutely nothing. It added 0 twists or intrigues to the story, and served no purpose except making her a deus ex machina for a broken ending. All it was there for was to lay the base for a following show on Noxus and the Black Rose. Time that could have been spent either giving Mel a proper arc related to the plot, or giving all the other rushed character arcs more development.

Finally, and I deeply regret having to say this, but… the end of Vi and Cait's relationship was majorly disappointing to me. As an LGBTQ+ person myself, who feels attraction to women, it was a delight to have such a realistically portrayed w/w relationship on screen. Popular media tends to portray m/m relationships as these doomed, sinful feelings between two repressed guys, while w/w relationships are shown to just be all sunshine and rainbows and teddy bears, because two women together are a cute little accessory to have on screen. It’s non-threatening. But not Cait and Vi; their bond was raw, and rocky, with violent lows and passionate highs in a world that seemed to want to keep them apart. Their separation and the introduction of Maddie showed the reality of a w/w relationship, where fights and cheating ARE things that happen, because they're two adult women with different beliefs, objectives, an trauma. Putting them back together, as if nothing had happened, without giving us anything about how their relationship would have evolved from the breakup? I'd never thought I'd say this, but it's too easy. How about Caitlyn's literal descent into fascism??? We’ll just ignore that? Vi will just ignore that?

As with everything else, this last part of Arcane destroys all the complex emotions that exist between these characters, the resentment, the anger, the frustration, built upon years of different social conditioning… gone. Because they had 2 episodes left to wrap it up, and there was no way to make a coherent and natural transition to them getting back together with that kind of time. And can I just say. The decision to have Vi, symbol of Zaun, go down on Caitlyn, symbol of Piltover and enforcers, in a prison cell that has held innocent Zaunites and represents their complete lack of freedom as individuals by a cop state that oppresses them….. yeah, bad. So bad.

And… the multiverse. Yup, they went the multiverse route. Now, that's not necessarily a bad thing: the concept of multiverses itself is interesting in a vacuum, and quite a few properties have managed to make it work coherently. But it has been terribly overused and bastardized in serialized content in the last few years, for the simple reason that it's extremely practical. Why make a new, original series when you already have worlds and characters that are developed, and come with built-in fans? It's a money-saving hack! Why dedicate yourself to an ending that is meaningful in its finality and wraps the story properly when you can just say “It's just one ending in the multiverse!”. It takes away any accountability to the fans, and leaves the door open to a potential other version of the story! The perfect combo!

…except in practice, it comes off as lazy in a medium where that trope is overly saturated (don't start me on Marvel), and like a cowardly way of escaping from the responsibility of really taking the time to craft a good, solid ending to end your story.

So, with all that said: does it ruin Arcane for me? No, absolutely not, and I don’t think it should be for you either. The intricate artistry and raw talent that went into making the first season (and I would say a majority of the two first acts of season 2) is undeniable, and will stay undeniable. Nothing can touch that story. It will forever be one of my favourite pieces of animated media, which is saying a lot because I'm currently getting my master's degree on that topic.

However, it does give Arcane, as a whole rather than two separate seasons/entities, a very bittersweet feeling that is hard to forget. Thinking of what could have been, just if a little more time had been given to the minds behind the masterpiece you so loved… it's its own form of heartbreak. Academics have even compared it to experiencing a form of death of a loved one, before they ever got to reach their fullest potential and live the life they deserved. It may sound dramatic, but the feelings you feel in this moment, watching the horrible end of a fiction you have so much love for, are real. No one can take those away from you. You're allowed to grieve the loss of something that meant a lot to you.

Tldr; No, Arcane is not a bad series because of its rushed and incomprehensible ending. As they say, it's all about the journey, not the destination, even if that's one of the parts we tend to remember the most. And I don't know about you, but this was one of the best journeys I've ever been on.

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zorbik-guligan · 3 days ago

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Not really sure what incongruous means so I'll look it up after but it does feel like as i get older life gets more complex theres more things i understand now that sure i knew about them before but not in great detail but it feels like I've become so fucking complex as a person that if i tried to explain what i actually think and feel it would just overwhelm a person so i try and section myself off into pieces and just use different parts of me with different situations or people and it may just be because ive spent most of my time these past 2 almost 3 years now alone with nothing to do but think and figure myself out that when im asked what i think about something slightly personal its kinda hard to say it just got lost in my head somewhere and that whatever i think will change at a moments notice like i can bring up memories of lots of things and remember nostalgic times but i spent so long thinking about why i feel a certain way or what makes me feel a certain way in order to try and get a better hold of myself that ive kinda forgotten alot of my past like so many memories that i made are just gone because remembering them made me feel a way i dont want to feel like i remember realizing the beginning of 6th grade that i had completely forgotten 5th grade and the reason why was because that time i had was so nice yet not at the same time my brain just frogot because it didn't want a reminder of how good yet not something can be like great teachers who for the first time ever actually seemed to care as far as i could tell class mates who were generally friendly and occasionally checked on me if i seemed off yet i felt so alone cause nobody there really seemed like a real friend like the friends i had before who even when we were in deep trouble wouldn't rat me out and would stick with me who genuinely cared and missed me if i was sick getting older and not having anyone to socialize with for really formative years off my life has made understand those really old dudes who are nice and always up to make friends but just seem extra lonely for some reason despite knowing so many people i guess technically being that alone did hurt me but i kinda learned that im just not alone ever when im outside theres always some squirrels birds or plants nearby that make it more lively its why ive grown so fond of certain forested spots they are always lively and it feels like hanging out with all my friends its also why i enjoy making things like with metal or wood stone or even writing and painting those things feel alive in a way same with music and having time to think so much has made me reflect and realize that no day is the same and even when something changes something else stays the same or gos back to how it was in a weird cycle like growing but remembering where you were growing older for me anyways is like gaining more skills and more knowledge not just on the stuff around me but on myself too obviously people change sometimes pretty quickly too but getting older makes you learn more about yourself which duh that how life works but still it feels weird to be aware of it at 17 when it feels like i should still be trying to figure out my favorite youtuber or something not contemplate who i am as a person and what makes me feel the way i do but its a good kind of weird and theres always more to learn and find so i still have plenty of room to learn more about myself still not being able to really fully let a person know you kinda sucks but to be fair that is a rather special thing its also nice being able to put into words why i feel a certain way so that i can actually explain myself instead of just going quiet cause i dont know myself that well still kinda funny to know your own problems but not be able to jusy fix them when you know its a very deep problem even when it seems surface level and damn i got kinda personal there woops also just noticed that im shaking so might be overwhelmed remembering 5th grade which is probably why i frogot it or at least thought i did

anybody else feel that being human is like being a long-time syndicated cartoon character watching the world get more complex while your own design stays the same until youre incongruous with the reality around you??

#Anyway im gonna see if i can calm down and mabye froget 5th grade again #not remembering stuff can hurt sometimes so dont try it i already fucked up learn fro. my mistakes

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biancadoes1 · 1 day ago

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First of all: happy birthday! Wishing you lots of happiness and many more years of life! 🥳

So I have a group of friends that I care about a lot. We met because of our love for Bridgerton. Like many of us, they ended up boarding the "Lukola" ship. I’ve grown closer to them over the past few months, but I feel like they’re starting to act strangely regarding Nicola, especially after the addition of A and JD to the story.

They’ve been judging Nic and Luke’s posts as if they know details no one else does. They’re judging Nic as if she were Judas and had done terrible things. They accuse her of only caring about self-promotion, sidelining Luke, and being the one to blame for the nasty comments people direct at Luke. They’re saying Nic does everything deliberately and knows she’s harming Luke on purpose. They even claim Netflix and Shonda only care about Nic and forget that Luke exists.

I’ve tried to bring some sense to the conversation by saying that social media represents only 10% or less of a celebrity’s life and that we can’t judge things as if we actually know them or live with them. But I feel like they withdraw when I make comments like that. I believe they just want an echo chamber for their thoughts.

I’ve been thinking about distancing myself, but these girls were a great support for me when I lost a close relative. I feel ungrateful for even considering stepping away. At the same time, I’m bothered by the way they talk about Nicola. We’re all women and we know the pressure of being a woman, especially in the world of fame.

No offense, anon, but your friends sound like they need help. Do they all know how to tie their own shoes? It sounds like they haven’t learned a lot in life.

Anyone attempting to claim that Nicola or Luke are attempting to hurt each other over social media with their behaviors is a tried and true idiot.

Get new a new group. If you’re bothered by this and have a hard time seeing past it, it’s definitely time to find different people to talk with.

I understand feeling some obligation to stay for fear of seeming ungrateful but you also have to take care of yourself and in a situation involving a group chat with people with the same interest, you should always come first.

Protect your own peace. There’s nothing selfish about doing that. There are plenty of other people in the fandom who think like you do and are willing to have discussions. You just have to find them.

#lukola #my opinions #my thoughts

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really-good-devil · 2 days ago

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x men and marvel characters (wolverine, daredevil, gambit, nightcrawler, etc) with transmasc boyfriend.... please i beg of you

anon i see you i see you i'm thanking you for this. i just ran with this i hope its to your liking

MARVEL IMAGINES WITH TRANSMASC BOYFRIEND

content: religion mention (majority positively), medical/social transition implied, dysphoria, transphobia

Wolverine:

For someone almost 200 years old, he has a bit to learn upon meeting you

Obviously Morph is a help with this + definitely had to give him a PowerPoint presentation

His view of masculinity somewhat is skewed but he is very insistent on treating you like a man because you identify as a man and if that means anything to you then it means something to him

Flannels! He absolutely gives you his baggy coats when you make a comment on needing more masculine clothes (not to mention the smell that his clothes leave on you is a big plus, so sue him, okay?)

Workout regiment is always taken care of and you never skip chest and arm day

He calls you "darlin'" once and then immediately goes "aw shit" because it might be too "lady-like" (his words) but he gets over it very quickly

Mutant hate? He understands all too well. Transphobia? Whole new ballgame, but it makes him just as mad. As in, he has no problem almost kabobbing someone who makes a comment about you going into a bathroom when he takes you out to one of his preferred bars

He soon realizes after that that maybe you need better hangouts and though he doesn't think the beer is as good at the other places, it's worth it to him

To him, assholes like that are no less ignorant than those who attack mutants because its all the same so he gets feisty on the defense

Once when the body dysphoria is real bad, like the kind when mirrors are the worst thing in the world and everything feels gross and tight, he listens and holds you very tightly and though he can't understand half of it, he does understand self-hatred and it hurts him something fierce

So he'll go out of his way at that point to make it known that you are one of strongest guys he knows because you're going through change and sticking to yourself and he loves it about you

He offhandedly once mentions using his claws for top surgery in an attempt to be funny and neither of you know how to react in that moment but it actually is kind of funny much later

Nightcrawler:

Much more up to speed than some others

He's not unused to the ideas of the intricacies and ideas of gender from his time in the circus and seeing the different lifestyles at play there

There's some trepidation on some people's parts about how Kurt will react considering his religion and the history, but it very hardly factors in

Very flirtatious after he gets the okay to move forward even if it's new to him

Does everything he would try to do with his previous lovers; he loves flowers that remind him of you

Constantly trying to involve you in things that he enjoys that he would hope you enjoy

Movie nights are a favorite of his and even if they end up being more modern, he's always willing to give it a chance

Kurt of all people knows what it is like to be judged and ridiculed for how you look or how people perceive someone

Body positivity is a huge part for him; complimenting your frame, your body hair, your hands

After all, his own body is not what many would consider normal, but it is still his and he accepts it, so he'll literally be damned if he can't help with that

His whole thing is finding someone new that's nice to say every day (which isn't very hard for him, tbh)

When he hears you accept any of it he gets so excited that his tail wags and he peppers you with kisses that sometimes have little nips from his fangs but they're all gentle

Loves to take you up to the top of the X-Mansion to have semi-romantic getaways and look out at the night sky and think of things far beyond where you both are right now, though he know he is happiest right at your side

Gambit:

Meets you when you first arrive to the mansion and is instantly drawn to you

Ever the gentleman while he's trying to get to know you, almost like chivalry is his default no matter the gender

After you first confess your feelings his favorite card becomes his King of Hearts

You tell him it's cheesy but he is happy that you approve

He leaves it with you the first time he goes on a mission and though he didn't doubt that you would lose it, he is so happy when he sees you kept it you can literally feel his kinetic energy reserves when he kisses you deep

His favorite is on those rare occasions where you get to dress up, whether it's for a party or infiltrating something

He loves trying to find coordinating or inverse outfits accessories if that's the case (nothing huge, but small ways to show that you two are together)

Pet names constantly

He works with his hands often so he uses them constantly to explore your body and he has magic fingers in many ways

You're so perfect to him in every way imaginable

Matt Murdock:

You meet Matt in Josie's a while after moving to the area in a new area to "start fresh"

It's not that he hustles you but you don't expect to lose at pool to him

He's very charming and easy to learn from and it takes a while but eventually you do get together

Walks around the neighborhood as an excuse to get to know things end up being tiny dates

Foggy and Karen exchanging tiny looks over Matt's boyfriend but very happy for him

You're unaware of his double life but do end up having to fuss over his scrapes

Eventually you have to explain to him and it's awkward but he just seems to take you in without seeing you and he smiles a bit and its okay from then on

You think he's just super understanding and forgiving but no he's actually known for a while

He's been very perceptive of changes in you as you transition further; he knows when you just had a T shot from how you body is working just a bit harder because of it, when your voice gets a bit deeper between the times he sees you

He also had to do a background check because you can't be too careful at this point

But though it's insanely new to him since he hasn't been with a man, he does love you with no shame

He knows what you look like vaguely but always asks anyway because he wants you to explain what you see of yourself

Always very seriously and not seriously ready to remind you that he is part of fine law firm should you need to win a case against someone at the slightest complaint

You always feel safe and seen, in a way, with him, and it never really changes

‐----------------------

I hope you enjoyed this! If you did, feel free to request more like this or a fic! Requests are open and I have masterpost here and a list of characters and ships I'd write for here. Thanks for reading!

(Also lmk if any of these are interesting enough you'd want to see more of, bc the Matt and Kurt ones I would definitely be open to making a fic so stay tuned if it happens.)

#my writing #imagines #marvel #daredevil #matt murdock #logan howlett #wolverine #gambit #gambit xmen #kurt wagner #nightcrawler #marvel mcu #x reader #trans male #trans masc

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 2 days ago

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On The Hunt: Working As A Unit

Summary- 5.2k Alpha Steve x Little One Reader. You and Steve are finding a new side to being around one another. Neither of you had simple downtime before, but a possible glimpse into what life could be like for you. A mission together leads you two to become a lethal team.

Warnings- Hand-on-hand combat, heated at the moment making out and touching. This is an 18+ Only Blog.

A/N- Wow it's been a while and I so appreciate everyone who has been so patient, sending supportive messages and the asks simply saying that they missed this couple. Knowing really kept me going. I know I have been vocal about how I've been struggling with writing but you all keep me going. I love it so much, even when it's hard. Thank you so much @yenzys-lucky-charm for bouncing ideas, reading the snippets I would email, and giving suggestions. You have no idea how much it means to me. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics. Happy Reading!

Chapter 9 / Masterlist

You and Steve started going on more missions together that Shuri sent along while waiting for Ulysses to return to the area.

Sometimes it was about gathering intel on suspected smugglers, other times it was wider-spread travel, intercepting shipments leaving with hostages. All small, and easy enough for you and Steve to do together without many issues.

Together you two started growing as a functioning team, relying on each other in ways you hadn’t before. Steve began to rely on your tracking skills, letting the Little Wolf lead the way to intercept smugglers moving small groups of shifters while your smaller stature kept you easily from sight. You in turn depended on Steve to take out threats along the way, the Alpha using speed and surprise to subdue anyone who took notice of the Little Wolf prowling.

With T’Challa’s help, you could relocate the victims to get the help they needed and pass along information, allowing Wakanda to start mapping out trafficking routes.

You and Steve were making a difference together.

On the days when Shuri had no missions to send you two on and Ulysses had yet to make an appearance to the warehouse, you and Steve used this downtime to rest and prepare. Thankfully the heat passed, without you doing anything with Steve beyond sleeping in his bed with him. That simple act was enough to get you both through it. You had the Alpha’s presence in what became your nest and Steve was allowed to take care of the Omega in whichever way you needed him.

As much as you both craved the intimacy sex would give in the moment, you knew deep down that you were still trying to heal, and be with Steve with trust in him not to abandon you or force you into a position that gave him all the power over you.

Steve kept his promise, nothing would happen between you two till you were ready.

You learned to appreciate those days of nothing but each other's company. Typically Steve was the first to wake up and make breakfast.

Since your heat was over, you had moved back into your bedroom, without him fighting you about it. The Little Wolf had something to say, but she relented in the end. Whenever you wandered out Steve would have a plate of food ready along with coffee, and a gentle smile before you two would fall into a safe conversation, usually going over mission notes together and putting together a report to send back to T’Challa.

Mid mornings Steve usually went for his runs while you did your workouts in the open living area, sometimes if Steve came back in time, he would follow along with you, going through the defense and attack moves that you had learned from the panthers in Wakanda. Steve also showed you other moves that he had learned in his years with the Howling Commandos, you were a quick study, and earning Steve’s praise made you feel giddy in a way that you hadn’t in a long time.

Sweat was running down your back and face, heavily panting while Steve tossed you a water bottle while guzzling his own down, a wide proud smile flashed at you. “Y/N, do you even know how badass you are Little One?” He gave you a slight nudge when you turned a bit shy, rolling your eyes at him while taking some deep swallows from the bottle to keep from saying anything. “I mean it, if you ever wanted to, I’m sure Natasha would train you in her skillset.”

You paused, your heart aching at his words like he genuinely believed you would one day return to his home, regardless of the status of you two. But you partially felt responsible that the pack didn’t have their Alpha, and part of you wondered how many of the wolves felt that you were to blame for his disappearance. Steve frowned seeing you shut down in front of him, your face turning away and your lips pulling tight as your inner thoughts spun, the Little Wolf growing agitated in your mind. Impulsive his fingers gripped your chin, making you face him with a questioning look. “Little One, where are you?” When your eyes snapped back into the moment, he let his hand drop.

“Steve, I don’t know if going back is an option for me. That’s your home, your family. Me being there…” You broke off, not wanting to voice those dark little thoughts.

Steve’s brow came together as he pieced together what you were not saying. “Y/N, you are a member of the pack, you became one the moment I invited you to stay before we were even together.”

That’s always going to be our home Y/N. Your Little Wolf chimed in with a swish of her tail.

“Our pack is found family.” Steve continued. “Bucky and I were born into it, but Sam and Sara came when they needed a place outside of the chaos of Shield. Natasha’s home pack was destroyed to recruit the pups, training them into assassins. When she broke free of them, she went to Nick Fury to deliver the organization’s crimes and he sent us in to dismantle the organization. She came back with me. Pietro and Wanda landed in Tony’s pack for a short time and went between us when they needed a break from the city. Clint came with his human wife needing to give her space from living in a pack but still be close enough for his wolf to find peace and have safety for his family.” Steve pieced together different members' stories, trying to convince you that you belonged there just as any of the others did. “It doesn't matter if we’re mated or not Y/N, they are your family and will tell you the same thing I did. You came when you needed a home and it will remain your home. Regardless of our history, I would never ask you to leave your family.”

Now that was something you never considered, but the idea of it settled. You and Steve had already come so far with each other since he first left, would you be able to stay even just as friends? The Little Wolf settled back down once your line of thinking shifted.

The evenings were when you two finally relaxed, crashing on the couch with the apartment TV. playing a movie that one of you picked out. You would curl up in the corner of the couch, eyes glued to the movie Steve had picked that night.

This wasn’t something you had done before, not like this. Living with Pierce pack, there wasn’t entertainment allowed to the shifters for sale, you were just kept locked away with the necessities and each other to keep company, and living with Steve, you two would occasionally settle into watching some TV show, but most of the time you two or the wolves were exploring, Steve giving you a glimpse of life like you've never experienced before. But that wasn’t the case anymore and you found a deep love of movies.

So night after night, you would make some snacks that you found in the store around the corner of the block, Steve would scan for iconic movies you absolutely must see, according to him.

You got to also see a side of Steve you hadn’t seen before. A completely relaxed man, tossing popcorn into the air to catch you two turning it into a game, soon there was popcorn scattered all across the living room as the two of you started trying to toss it across the couch into one another's mouth.

His face would scrunch up when you bounced the buttery pieces off his forehead or cheeks, making him chuck his pieces right back at you, making you smile in victory. “For being the big bad wolf Steve, you can’t catch worth shit.” You teased from across the couch, tossing up a piece to catch on your own.

Steve brushed the loose popcorn on the floor and prepared to clean it up the next day. “I’m better at taking bites, not playing catch.” His teeth snapped in your direction and the two of you stared at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, tears streaming down your face as your giggles turn to hiccups.

The Alpha is smug in Steve’s mind, knowing he made you laugh like that.

Slowly movie night worked its magic, before either of you knew it, you two were cuddled up together on the couch, sharing bowls of snacks between you and the two of you debating the quality of the storyline and characters. Steve started getting a feel for what he thought you liked and proposed your first movie marathon.

You lasted halfway through the eleven-hour Lord of the Rings marathon. You tried but somewhere in the middle of the second movie your head dipped down onto Steve’s shoulder and your breathing leveled out into the tone of sleep.

<Look at that Steve, put her right to sleep.> The Alpha snickered in Steve’s mind, prowling restlessly in missing the bond. Steve barely moved as he eased the blanket off the back of the couch, letting it drape over your curled-up form, and you cuddled up closer to him, rubbing your face into the crook of his neck.

Steve stiffened, this was the first time you’d touched him since your heat and he didn’t want to push past boundaries.

Steve let the Alpha’s common sense settle, letting himself loosen, sinking in a bit against you and enjoying your warmth pressing into him. His focus turned back to the movie while his arm rested over your shoulders.

When you woke up the next morning, you were still on the couch, your head pillowed and covered in a soft blanket that smelled like Steve. You tugged it around you tighter, sleepily smiling as you buried your face into the soft fabric and inhaled. Your Little Wolf was so content in your mind. You felt safe here, with Steve in this little apartment and it hit you that you hadn’t felt this way in a long time. Even when you were back in Wakanda, you constantly felt the need to watch your back. Now with Steve, you could relax and put all your energy into the mission.

Adrenaline rushed through your veins, everything was in hyper-focus. Your Little Wolf paced, wanting to hunt down her prey.

She practically salivated at the thought of opening her maw wide and sinking her fangs into these bastard's flesh, ripping them apart piece by piece.

You let that rush feed your senses, making everything sharper.

The crowd of handlers was rough with the shifters they were smuggling, all of them enclosed in collars. The Little Wolf’s snarls filled your mind at the sight. Your eyes narrowed on them, these were not panthers like you were expecting.

Shuri had sent coordinates for a pack of wolves. You whispered, enough for Steve to hear you in the comm in your ear. “Where do you think they are from?”

The Alpha was out of sight looking for the best vantage point of attacking the smugglers while keeping the prisoners safe. “I don’t know Little One. I don’t recognize any of them. They could be from home… we knocked out a large portion of it when we took out Brock, but it's hard knowing how far Hydra has spread.”

“Are we able to get them out?” You asked as you started taking a quick count of how many there were.

“Their collars are not like mine,” Steve observed, making you take note of the leather strap enclosed around their necks. “I think that it's merely preventing them from shifting, they are fighting against the bonds, so they have free will.”

Indeed you saw several snarl at the armed individuals forcing them from the warehouse, marching them across a shipping yard towards a large cargo ship. “That’s good.”

“They won’t be fighting against us, if my theory is correct.”

“Alright Captain, what’s the plan here?”

“Cute Little One.” You heard him snort a bit, making your Little Wolf huff in amusement. “Get your ass onto that cargo ship unseen. If you can make your way to holding, do it.”

You started working your way closer, using cargo containers to shield you from the scattering of guards on the perimeter. “And then what?”

“Work your way inside, take out whoever you have to. There should be minimal security below deck.”

“What are you going to do?” You paused at the ship's edge, scanning it for a way to get onboard. Nearby you could hear voices, but still seemed far enough away that you didn't duck back into hiding. Not yet anyway.

“Work my way through the above deck crew.” You heard a swoosh through the comm, sure it was the shield T’Challa had made for him. You tapped your bracelet, feeling the metal lightly sweep over your chest and across your back, covering your most vulnerable spots.

You kept searching for a spot to climb onto the towering cargo ship.“You got this Little One?”

Your Little Wolf tensed, ready for you to take that leap. “Got this Alpha, see you up there.”

“I will make a distraction for you and draw their attention so you can slip inside.”

You prepared yourself for Steve’s distraction, sprinting to the walkway leading up to the ship's dock. It wasn’t long till you heard shouts of alarm and shots.

“You better be okay Steve!” You harshly whispered into your comm as you took the opening.

“Worried about me, Little One?” You heard in return, a hint of teasing in his tone while his comm crackled with background noise.

“Just not in the mood to come save your ass.” You sass back, letting your senses wander. The ship shuddered beneath your feet, signaling that it was getting ready to ship off. Noticing a door that led into the ship, you sprinted for it. Skidding to the metal door, you eased inside.

“Stay safe Little One.” Steve’s voice filled your head just as you ran into someone patrolling. His eyes widened when he saw you, raising his weapon in preparation to shoot you.

It was automatic, your leg swung out to kick the barrel away and you pushed forward, your hand lashing out to cuff the man's face. The butt of the gun swung into your shoulder, knocking you off kilter.

“We got a brea-” The guard started into his comm system. With a snarl, you tackled him, grabbing at his ear and ripping at the device to keep him from continuing his alert. The gun went skidding out of reach, but he hit you to stop your attack, whiplashing your face till blood burst from your mouth from a busted lip and making your head ring at how hard he had hit you. “Bitch!” His foot planted against you, shooting you off of him to sail over his head. You crashed against the floor, skidding across the metal.

Your body twisted away from him. <Weapon!> Your Little Wolf alerted you and you snatched it to pull towards you when he came crashing back on you, the air crushed from your body. It was worth it though, getting him that close as you were able to swing the gun, cracking it aside his head.

The guard's eyes rolled back at the sudden hit and he collapsed over you. “Fuck” You muttered, wriggling till you were able to pull out from underneath him. Shouldering the rifle, you also shoved his comm in your ear to listen in on the others. You pulled at him to drag him into a nearby room and slammed the door shut, twisting the handle enough to break it, preventing it from opening.

In the comm, you could hear shouts of alarm, that someone was wreaking havoc on the top deck.

With a sprint, you started racing towards the stairs and swinging over the banister to drop several levels quickly, bypassing as much as you could. And we're gonna make every second count.

“WHOA!” Someone shouted from the stairwell, making you glance up to see a couple of faces looking down at you. They didn’t give another warning, their weapons shoved over the railing and shot down at you. You ducked the bouncing bullets as best you could, dodging out of the stairwell back into a hallway. Thumps from the stairwell let you know they weren’t far behind.

Securing yourself around a corner, you dropped to your knees, rifle aimed down the hallway, ready for the attack.

The Little Wolf honed in on the sound of footsteps, under your breath, you started counting the seconds to yourself, your breathing going calm. Once that door slammed open, your finger pressed down on the trigger.

The shield Steve was given repelled the bullets, his arm shooting up to block himself while using the shield as a ram, rushing against the crew while bullets rained on him. The pinging was ear-splitting but they bounced off, resulting in hitting quite a few of the people attacking him.

It had gone far better than he expected. The scattering of bullets dropping men in his path, then a few well-placed hits between his fist and the shield kept the momentum.

<BEHIND YOU!> Came a sharp snarl and Steve twisted enough to miss the dagger in his back, catching him on the side of his neck instead.

Pain made him bare his teeth with a snarl, turning to his foe.

“Last one I expected to see.” Came the man's sharp reply, his blade swinging in his hand till his hand gripped the handle, prepared to slash at Steve should he come close enough. “Better prepared though than when Brock took you. Where’s your little bitch this time?” His smirk was cold as he continued his taunts. "Figures you would be too weak to snap her neck."

Steve let his words slide away, eyeing the man. <Provoke him into an attack.> His Alpha circled slowly, a predator on his hunt.

Steve sensed the change in the air, the confidence in his opponent growing that he was able to push the Alpha into dropping his protection. It gave him the guts to charge Steve, his knife ready to sink into him.

Last second Steve swung his arm up, the vibranium swiftly blocking the attack and cutting the blade off at the handle. With his hand, he grasped the sheared knife blade falling and flicked his hand into the man's gut, sinking the metal into him.

Blood spurted out of his mouth, his eyes wide in surprise as Steve snarled in his face. “You were not much of a threat, were you?” The man dropped, Steve clenched his cut hand, trying to stop the bleeding grabbing the bare knife had caused. “Y/N… location?” He said out loud, holding his breath still to quiet himself, letting the comm have all his focus.

It was quiet for a few moments, making the Alpha in him grow agitated. <Call again>

Give her a chance. Steve waited for it, anything from you when your voice cut through the silence he willed on himself.

“I’m below… port side. I still haven't found where they are keeping them.” Your aggravated voice came through. “Shit-” Your voice suddenly cuts out, making Steve cry out.

“Y/N?” He bolted, shoving himself into an open door, and racing down the stairs, he started passing others that you had already taken out. Steve headed towards the left, darting down halls and crashing through doors, essentially following your trail.

Your scent was getting stronger and soon he heard loud thumps and grunts. The Alpha snarled as fear tainted Steve, all his senses growing sharper trying to get to you.

Sprinting down the hall and locating where the sounds of fighting were coming from, he busted into a steel door, making it snap open to find you with your thighs wrapped around a man's head, your hands gripping at him and yanking his head back, your teeth bared with the effort while the man struggled to get free.

It made Steve pause a second, processing that he was watching you about to snap a man's neck. And with a yank, the body fell limp and you untangled yourself. “Fuck…” He muttered, making your gaze snap to his, heated between the two of you.

For half a second, before your eyes widened in alarm. “Behind you!” Steve whipped around to throw his shield up, the ping of bullets bouncing off them. A kick was aimed at his uncovered legs, making him grunt in surprise as he stumbled back, making you yelp in alarm.

<SHIFT!>

You started wiggling yourself free from under the body, your Little Wolf urging you to shift cause she could move faster than you could. But it wasn’t necessary, the next moment a hand shot at you, Steve taking hold of your hand and pulling you to your feet.

“Are you hurt?” You both asked each other at once, both of you panting from exertion and adrenaline racing, your hands pawed at one another, trying to check each other out when you took an exhale of relief.

He was fine.

“Little One,” Steve growled, staring down at you with a wild look, betraying everything he was feeling in that gaze. The glazed look of adrenaline-rushed fear and relief, as well as the lust simmering for you, the need to be able to reach out and take you.

And you so desperately wanted it, your heart racing and the whole mission catching up to you, you pulled in closer, grasping at him to lift yourself to crash your mouth into his with a possessive growl.

One that Steve equally matched with force, the air stolen from you as he hauled you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist and arching into him as you pushed your fingers into his hair to grasp on, tilting your head to get closer inside of him, your tongue plunging past sharp bites and snarls.

Your back slammed into the ship's steel wall, effectively pinning you against his hardened body and it drove you feral feeling your mate so hard between your thighs, your hips rocking into him for the friction, your suit rubbing you in a teasing way, but you wanted to rip it off, everything between you.

You wanted to feel his heat pour into you, his body smothering yours till you couldn’t get free, not ever again. You wanted to be claimed inside and out, made to be all his.

More than being in heat could ever burn you. This wasn’t just a need to fuck each other.

“You gotta- you gotta make me stop.” He hissed against your mouth, his eyes screwing shut like he was trying to control himself and you gave a sharp tug on his hair, pulling his mouth open in a gasp so you could claim again. “We can’t right-”

You cut him off before even letting him finish. “Don’t you fucking dare Steve, not this time. You can’t take my choice from me.” You studied his eyes when they sprang back open, searching for your consent. “I want this, this is me telling you yes.” You tilted to his neck, nipping along the column to make him shudder, his head tilting back to give you all the room to use your mouth on him. You felt your Little Wolf tense, almost like she was holding her breath, waiting to see what Steve would choose. “The question is, do you want us? As messy and complicated we might be?” You felt him pull away, letting your feet settle back onto the floor, the ships wall no longer at your back. The space in between the two of you felt miles wide, making your Little Wolf curl on herself.

Would he believe you were ready or would he pull away convincing himself that he wasn’t good enough for you? Steve eased you back from him, making sure you were looking right in his eyes, seeing the truth for yourself. “Before I even knew who you were, Little One, I looked for you. I will always want this life with you.”

So easily were the roles reversed, Steve grasping the front of your neck to drag you in against him, closing whatever distance there was between you two. Your body so easily fit against his, all your senses coming alive feeling him hard against you while blue eyes searched yours, silently pleading for this moment to be true.

All you could do was share another look back, reassurance, desire, hunger, and love. Words couldn't come close to what you needed to say to him, even if you could talk right now. But it was enough for Steve, for he claimed your mouth with his, taking away every rational thought.

Your Little Wolf started her mates' song while Steve practically took all the air from your lungs. You clutched at him till he maneuvered you back into a wall, bouncing against the ship's metal with a whimper from you.

It was enough to make him pull back, concern flashing across his features for a second but you yanked him back, clutching your hands into his suit and urging him with your kiss. You bit onto his lip, tugging. You wanted all of him, all that time spent apart made you feel almost frantic to reclaim some of what was lost.

Steve growled against your mouth, your taste sending him right back to that first mating, how he couldn't get you out of his head, his Alpha driven mad to have you as his. His hand at your throat softened, slid up to cup your face, and then back to the base of your neck, digging his fingers into your hair and clutching, easing you back till your head tilted back.

Panting as you stared up at him, you tilted your head back even further to let your throat flash, his gaze dropping to the column that bared his old bonding mark. It made his eyes flash almost possessively while he dropped his head and nipped along your neck, but never made that bonding claim even though he scrapped his teeth against it, making your body tighten, your thighs clenching as heat rushed through your core. His hand not holding your head still skimmed down your body, taking his time even though his kisses were urgent. “I never told you enough how perfect you are Little One. The only one I could ever belong to.” He breathed against you, his nose buried in against the racing pulse in your neck, drawing you in.

Your touch was all over, recommitting the feeling of your Alpha against you. Your hands tried to work the fabric looser so you could get to his skin, but your hands were captured, stretching above your head to keep you pinned in place. “Please, Steve.” Your body arched, anything now to have him touch you, your Little Wolf was driving you mad with her song. She craved her Alpha, just as badly as you did.

“I know Little Wild One, my Omega.” Steve nipped at your mouth, drawing you into another kiss that was deeper and more wild than the last one at first, slowing down into one of worship from him. His hand slipped between your thighs, gliding up to your center where you arched your hips into his touch.

And this time being touched felt right. His hand cupped your heat, fingers pressing right against your sensitive spot and setting off your bundle of nerves till you were whimpering against his mouth. “Inside me Steve, I need you, not your fingers.”

His jaw clenched at your words, the muscle fluttering with restraint. “We can’t do this...” His nostrils flared and he started cursing in his growls, catching your arousal and making his pupils dilate sharply on you.

Your heart started to break at his words, a pained growl rising from you as you tried pulling from his hold but his hand on your wrists tightened and your teeth bared as you tilted your head, lust and anger taking over your features suddenly.

His fingers never slowed down still bringing you higher, all your nerves firing pleasure through your body till it shook. “You cut me off earlier Little One. We can’t right now because it’s not safe.” His mouth nipped yours, risking the possibility of you biting back. His mouth dipped to your ear, growling against it. “Once I’m so deep inside you, knotting you to me, I am not going to be able to stop, not till you’re begging me for relief and then I still might not be able to. Be my good Omega because right now it's too dangerous for me to make up for all my mistakes while I am worshiping your body. Let me get you back to your nest.” His hand slipped into the band of your pants until he could feel just how warm you were, his touch expertly finding that bundle of swollen nerves and dragging calloused fingertips around it, circling and applying more pressure. Every little pleasurable nerve raced through your system. The touch of leather of his fingerless gloves made you whimper, arching your hips into his touch, letting yourself go finally.

Your face buried in against him, still riding his hand for that relief. The spiral was building faster. Steve lifted your head from his chest, pressing his forehead to yours. “Come for me Little One.” He nipped his command on your mouth, pulling your whimpers and moans into him, all those pleasured sounds till you gasped, your gaze losing focus as you sank in against him. He let your wrists go, falling heavily onto his shoulders and he steadied you with murmured praises. “I promise Little One, I got you, I’m not letting you go.”

Steve buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent deeply. Feeling his mate so close calmed his Alpha from fighting him too much. Your scent was warmth wrapping around him, that you were satisfied and taken care of, enabling the Alpha in his mind to settle knowing that you were safe with him. Warmth curled through him feeling you hide against him, his arms wrapping you closer so you felt safe in this moment. If he had it his way, you would be back at the apartment, treating you properly. The way an Alpha took care of his mate. His mouth pressed against the top of your head, pressing gentle assuring kisses to the crown.

If Steve could have, he would have stayed like that forever, let time stand still cause this was everything he let go of and somehow was given a second chance. You shifted in closer, molding your body to his own while you buried your face in closer, pressing your lips to his collarbone before pulling back to look up at him. “You meant it, all of it?”

Steve let his gloved hands cup your face, leaning his forehead against yours. “All of it. I know I made a mistake letting you go and I shouldn’t have let my fear win over my common sense.” He swallowed hard, as if he wasn’t sure what to expect but was preparing himself.

“Come on Alpha, we still have others to save.” You leaned up to press an assuring kiss to him before he let you go, the two of you now racing to find the hostages together, a team.

#welcome to the pack #alpha Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Rogers x You #Captain America AU #Marvel AU #Marvel Fanfiction #Alpha Steve Rogers x Little One #Chris Evans characters #Amber writes #Sweater writes #please be gentle everyone!

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