#we love amalia

[babyjakes]

🌷 and 🍧 for the summertime writer asks! lub you so much Eun! 🫧

hey amalia thanks for playing, lub you so much friend!! 🎈

🌷 writing achievement i want to brag about: hmm ig i will just use this to share a few fics that i’m really proud of!! writing has always been a form of processing for me and it’s been especially useful for things that i wouldn’t know how to emotionally process otherwise. and you know, and so do i and for june are two very personal works that i wrote solely for the purpose of processing. and i guess the achievement here is that i have learned such a healthy and functional way to handle personal traumas, and i am so thankful to have a space where i can safely share these stories and bring others who might have similar experiences some peace and comfort 💕

🍧 weirdest place i’ve written: even if i don’t write in many places, one thing i will do is jot down little ideas i have in my phone on the go hehe 😇 i have done this pretty much everywhere. maybe not a weird place but sort of adjacent to this, there are many nights where i will be laying in bed ✨imagining the scenarios✨ and i will enter a loop of: have an idea. reach over grab phone. open google docs app and jot it down. close phone. repeat LOL like i’ll tell myself every time “okay that’s the last one, sleep time now” but when is it ever really sleep time 😔 when those guys live up in your head 😔😔

☀️ i’m answering summertime writer asks ☀️

[babyjakes]

lub lub lub you sweet amalia!! always happy to grace you with a dilf 😌🫶💕🎈

look 🥺 friend-shaped

EUN THIS ACTUALLY MADE MY FACE LIGHT UP WHEN I OPENED MY INBOX! Friend shaped cowboy 🤠 daddy shaped cowboy, I love himmmm and he looked especially warm and comforting in that pic, you get me and I love you so much for it! Thank you for this!

[classydonkeyskeletonlamp]

Nora my beloved ☺️☺️

[vibingwithwaves]

Imma try to draw more but yooo. First post going bold ig. Praying no one at i know irl finds this im self conscious.

My take on a wedding/Queen fit p1

part 2 with yugo one day some day in the future when I get time and ideas

[moths-are-better]

Thinking about ova Amalia she’s so pretty

[randomnameless]

Land 5 aka before the final boss done !

Albion...

Well, it has a city named Bordeaux !

Ça fait un bail que Bordeaux et l'Aquitaine ne sont plus aux mains de la perfide Albion !

What else can I say...

The final stage bgm was kickass, I loved the architecture and the "subquests" with goats and the character who turns ennemies green was... A thing lol. Still Nigel isn't a deadweight so that's something nice.

Plot wise...

Ugh.

If anyone got it better than I do then please help me lol, because from what I understood, the pope (hereditary title in this verse) got only one child (tfw your line is super special magical plot related but you only get one kid) and told both of his right arms, Nigel and Sanatio, that they should never speak of her to anyone, including themselves.

So... Nigel secured Scarlett far away (uh...) 6 years ago and didn't tell Sanatio, per the pope's orders, Sanatio knew Scarlett existed but since her existence must remain secret, per the pope's orders, he... Uh... Never knew where she was ?

So when the pope decided to fold against the evil empire, and subsequently later died (something Gharnef is pissed about, because the pope's line is the only one able to destroy mc guffins) Sanatio thought that he had to pretend the pope was still alive to make sure Albion and the Orthodoxy would not descend into chaos ?? Like, Nigel couldn't tell him that "I shipped Scarlett to parevia aka an island that is as far from Albion as the UK is from France, under her dad's orders some years ago, let's find her to both protect and mount a resistance against the empire ?"

I knew Albion was scrapped because bankruptcy and all, but damn if in a game where Gilbert, Virginia, hell Alain and to an extent Yunifi and Morad exist, this felt contrived as fuck.

Besides, I know you are technically able to go to Albion before doing bastorias, Drakengard or Elheim (Bastorias or Elheim must be done though) but damn if doing things in order paints Scarlett in a crap light, after Erigor and witnessing the elves zombies and learning about the occupation in both Cornia and Drakengard with mysterious plagues around, and we open Albion with Scarlett worrying about her dad (while she was there when Galerius told us he was dead !) and wanting to show Alain the place where she picked up flowers when she was younger.

Special mention to her former childhood friend Raelys (?) with whom she reunites and wants to go to their special flower field again... Only to be ambushed by Raelys because while childhood memories are nice and all, Raelys' younger brother was taken hostage and she wants to save him.

Then we have Fodoquia's backstory... And Scarlett looks like an ass, especially for someone who was basically supposed to inherit Albion, who never cared about her country and her people.

Still in the few subsequent chapters she expresses her desire to help the people of Albion and her care for them (with still the memetic "I always thought about you" to get childhood friend when a majority of her rapports so far where about Alain, her feelings for him and jealousy at the other female leads or fluff) so there's that.

Ultimately I believe this discrepency is both due to the game being short on money but also the writers having wrote Scarlett as the "ojou" archetype, when the elf twins, even with their 5 lines about the plot of their land, and to some extent, Virginia and Yunifi/Ramona are concerned about their homes and people and written as such.

Plot happens and it's revealed, the empire is actually full of body surfers who were banned to the shadow realm for having sacrificed an unicorn and their big plan is to transmigrate everyone in living bodies, Scarlett's line is special because her magical powers are the result of experiments on humans with blood/parts/powers (?) of an unicorn, the failed results were duds and gave birth to the feathered people (angels) but Scarlett's ancestor was a success, the Cornian royal line is also special because it was founded by a young woman who was the only one granted immortality and not banished to the shadow realm eons ago, so she got some magic powers but gave up her immortality, and the laguz were originally elves who decided to become laguz so their bodies couldn't be snatched, but they forgot how to turn back.

Anyhow, for all of the unicorn imagery Alain got, I found it cool that the "our line was founded by the Maiden in the Unicorn and Maiden duo" thing is/was referenced in Ilenia/Virginia's skillset, it sort of helped to lessen the "uwu Alain is the saviour and chosen one" thingie that hits especially hard after Drakengard and Gilbert's last convo where he confesses he and Drakengard in general have always been jealous of cornia, so learning only Cornia's king can be the "chosen one" to get rid of the evil ghost empire...

Also, since you can skip Drakengard to reach that point and ignore her existence, I guess the "Alain saviour bcs he descends from the Maiden and has the magic ring" feels even weirder when Virginia is also in the party, but she can't equip the magic ring (granted if Alain were to die, would Virginia be able to equip it plot wise ?)

Fwiw, even if Gerard's infinity +1 sword can be used by Alain, I gave his magic ring to Virginia, his other grandkid by beating his ass with the Tricorns, plot be damned.

I mean, I usually dgaf about chosen ones plots, but when the second arc was all about a potential claimant/heir accepting to stand down and let their sib/cousin run the show, the game saying "only sib/cousin can save the world" feels a bit like a slap lol

Alain gave the "totally not-engagement ring" to Joseph, his dad in all but blood, and I rounded up several rapport conversations (wtf was Fodoquia and Bryce's lol) and mini quests.

Units wise... Ramona works well with the angels who have their discharge skill lol, and Bertrand spinning with his hammer will never cease to be hilarious.

I'm sure I'm not using Berengeria well though, because now she keeps on dying (ffs you have a giant shield can you just use it for once ??)... But Bruno makes up by hitting like a truck.

[where-the-wind-travels]

heehehheheheheheheh

im sorry i do not know what a butte is

[4alarmfirecracker]

You look very fine. I think so, too.

→  1x01 // 1x11

[itlivesproject]

Thinking about Amalia hours… she’s just so😩 and the dynamic between her and mc is just 🤌 (best friends to lovers is my favorite as you can probably tell)

Like during the bachata scene when Rowan reveals that they learned how to dance to impress Amalia because they know it means a lot to her? And Amalia tells genuine mc that she noticed they were kinder and more caring after the attack and she grew to love the new Rowan just as much as the old one?? Omg

I originally wanted to romance Joss first even though I wasn’t a fan of her before because I wanted to see the growth but Amalia stole my heart immediately. You guys did such a good job with this project and developing each and every character with love so I wanted to thank you all for giving me something to be excited about as I’ve been stressed out w college lately

[babyjakes]

Treat!!! Happy Halloween bby! 🎃💓💓💓💓

trash stache daddy opens the door 😌 handing out “gold bars” of course, and a kiss on the cheek for his favorite girl 😌 “oh my. look at that costume, baby. careful now, i might just try to eat you up myself” 😮‍💨🤤

[babyjakes]

ohhhh sweet amalia thanks for recommending me haha, this means so much 🥺🫶 yes!! come on over nonnie, you’re always welcome here! in fact we’re even doing a hurt/comfort event rn, this is perfect timing 😌👍

Hi. I was wondering if I could possibly get some fic recs for an anxious and insecure reader for really any character or actor you talk about ❤️ if it’s not too much trouble that is.

@comfortcap has some of the best hurt/comfort fics that highlight the reader feeling insecure and anxious! I always go back to read those fics of Eun’s so def check em out!! They’re written for Cevans + characters!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰

[kissofthemuses]

Penance for Amalia

Send me a Character and I’ll tell you if my Muse would kiss them

No amount of alcohol could make me do it || Ew || No || Maybe if I were wasted || Maybe || Eh…Sure || Yes || I want to kiss them every day

❝Well, obviously.❞

[where-the-wind-travels]

jumped on the bandwagon and made mia and lia <3

[yes-i-exist-shutup]

DAMNIT

aftg fans may disagree on this one but kevin day and his most beautiful daughter ever

[ferrstappen]

let me take care of it l LN4

a/n: this was inspired by the gorgeous gorgeous scene of K-mag and his daughter 💘 also, this is ALL OVER THE PLACE bc I wrote it on my phone in like 15 min but still hope you like it💘 I’ll also update dad max tomorrow 💘

summary: when papa isn’t feeling his best, baby Norris knows what she has to do.

Lando wasn’t feeling his best and everyone could see it; it didn’t matter what anyone said, whether it was his dad, mum, sisters, Zak, Oscar, even you… he couldn’t stop being so harsh on himself that every person on the paddock wanted to lay his back and tell him to catch a break, he still is one of the best.

Your arrival to Abu Dhabi has been one worthy of the last race of the season, the private flight full of the Norris family, from the little ones to the in laws, with your parents chatting and laughing with Lando’s mum as they took turns to hold Amalia.

Everything was going great, really, but as the weekend started rolling and after quali, his smile faltered, face hardened, bringing himself down for some mistake.

So you made sure the hotel room had everything he needed, left Amalia sleeping on the crib while you picked his race day boxers, McLaren tshirt and joggers, so he could just throw his body to the bed and fall asleep.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked him as he settled his body in front of yours, not even asking to be the little spoon.

“No, but I just want tomorrow to be over so we can go home and be alone, you know?” His voice came out muffled by the pillow and your arm. “The only thing I want is to get home and start decorating for Christmas, Amy’s first Christmas… that’s all I want,”

“Okay then, let’s focus on that,” kissing his shoulder, you noticed his breathing slowing down.

Amalia Norris was a known face around the paddock, even if she couldn’t speak or even walk, she greeted everyone with a quick movement of her hand and happy squeal, depending on who it was.

Now, she had big things to protect her ears from all the sounds, Lando’s helmet and gloves in front of her and just as she was about to reach for the gloves and get scolded by you, Lando appeared with his usual smile, chest buffing at the sight of his two girls cheering him on, both wearing papaya.

“Do you want to help me get ready for the car, bubba?” Lando asked his daughter and she clapped her hands, giggling, almost as if she was trying to say something but couldn’t. “Okay, gloves please,”

Lando supposed it was going to be a show but no, his daughter had a concentrated look on her face as her small hands grabbed the glove and put it on Lando’s hand, repeating the action.

Before putting on the helmet, Lando picked her up, giving her a tight hug and loudly kissing her cheek just to fill his ears with her melodic laugh, the only fuel he needed. He closed his eyes while her hands grabbed both of his cheeks to get him closer and leave a kiss on his forehead, and in that moment Lando thought he was capable to give up the last race of the season just for this moment to never end.

“I think you need the helmet, huh?” You reminded the pair, taking Amalia from your boyfriend’s arms.

Lando gave you a quick peck on the lips before putting on the helmet, adjusting it until it was perfect, but there was one last detail.

“Visor, baby,” Lando pointed at it and Amalia carefully closed it, now he was ready.

“Good luck, daddy!” You told him as you noticed people were looking for him.

“Daddy? I thought in public it was papa,” he cheekily added, making you blush.

“Shut up, go get second place!” You joked before blowing him a kiss.

“I’m only thinking about our Christmas tree, baby. I love you both.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 3

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

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: double chapters when I know I shouldn't.

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

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

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“We got a suite available, Amalia?” The man, the owner of this casino, Bucky, asks as he approaches the glass counter of the hotel lobby. You barely keep up as your surroundings smear and your head spins. Everything’s happening so fast. 

“Mr. Barnes,” the woman on the other side greets as she nears the slim monitor, “I think we should.” She glances at him, then your sister as she blathers drunkenly in his arms, “having a good night?” 

“Oh, just some friends in the city for a night,” he lies easily, “she got a bit carried away so we’ll let her sleep it off.” 

You chew your lip as you stand just behind him. Your stomach lurches as your eyes wander around the fine decor. It’s all out of your price range. Again, your brain is a beat behind.  

“Doll, would you get that?” He asks as the desk agent holds out a small folder. 

“Oh, yeah, er,” you rush up to take the room keys, “sorry.” 

“No problem, just got my hands full,” he scoffs, “Amalia, have a good night. Hopefully you don’t get anyone too rowdy.” 

“Thank you, sir, you too,” she preens after him as he heads off across the lobby. 

Once more you’re on his heels as he struts toward the elevators. You catch up to him and force the frog from your throat, “uh, sir, Bucky?” You stammer, “I don’t think... I can afford--” 

“Doll, don’t worry about all that. It's on the house,” he stops before the elevator and stares at the golden doors, “I’m not some sort of grifter. I offered, I’m not gonna squeeze ya. What’s the room number?” 

“Er, oh,” you open the little folder, “720.” 

“Right, hit the button,” he nods before him. 

“Sorry,” you cringe again. You’re so behind. It must be so obvious to him how lost you are. Maybe that’s why he noticed you. He feels bad that someone so pathetic could exist. 

You press the up button and the doors open. He nods you ahead of him and you step into the box. The walls are transparent and you can see outside along the river. He gets in and comes to stand parallel with you as you avoid looking through the glass. 

“Seven,” he says. 

You make another mousy noise and tap the button. You recoil, clutching your hands over your chest, and stare at the doors. As the elevator rises, you feel a wave of head rush, and you sway just a little. You gulp and widen your eyes. 

“Not a fan of heights?” He asks as the box stops sharply and the doors ding and open. 

“Not really,” you mutter. 

He waits for you to exit first and you eagerly do. He follows as you look back and forth between the doors, searching out the number to match the folder. 720, right at the end. You fumble and it takes three tries to swipe the card correctly.  

Finally, the door opens and you push it inward, holding it as you flatten yourself to the wall to let him through. He enters without hesitation. For a moment, you wonder what it must be like to be so sure and so comfortable in a place like this. To have this be your normal.

You let go of the door and trail him further inside. The room is huge. Not just one room, but two. The front room is closed off by a pair of doors, painted white with fine spirals etched into the wood. You flit ahead of Bucky to slide them open and reveal the bedroom. He takes your sister to the bed and lays her down as she lets out a bubbly belch. 

“Sorry,” you apologise on her behalf as you hover in the door. 

“She’s her own person,” he stands back, “you need anything, call down to the desk. They’ll be happy to get you whatever. Oh, and, should probably have some water ready for the morning. She’s gonna be feeling this.” 

“Right,” you push your lip out then quickly fix your face, “thank you. I...” 

“Checkouts at eleven but I’ll tell Amalia to mark you down for a late departure,” he comes towards you slowly. 

“Oh, we won’t stay that long,” you assure him and scrape your palms together. 

“Ah, you got somewhere to be? Work? Gonna be a long day after tonight.” 

“No, I... I don’t...” your eyes drift to the wall. Again, you can’t help but admire the ivory paint and the crystal lamp and tall posts of the bed. “I don’t... have a job.” 

“Mm, tough out there,” he says, “just gotta find the right thing, huh?” 

You want to fold into nothing. This man, a millionaire at least, who owns this whole place, is telling you you’ll find something one day. Just like your mom does when you melt down over another rejection. Ugh. 

“Thanks, yeah,” you take a heavy breath. 

“You’re tired,” he surprises you as he caresses your sleeve, “I’m not gonna keep you up. You get some sleep, alright?” 

You nod and reach to scratch your neck, shifting away from his reach. He’s so much bigger than you that for a moment your stomach is crawling, as the thought occurs of how much control he really has. Not just because of who he is. 

“Good night, doll,” he purrs and brushes by you. 

You stay as you are, staring at your sister, muttering to herself. Why does she have to do this? You could be sleeping in your own bed but instead you’re here, burning in shame and pity. You turn as you hear him near the door. 

“Night,” you offer up. 

He stops and turns back, sending you a wink, “there’s a hot tub in here so... might enjoy the room at least.” 

You force a smile though your stress likely makes it more a grimace. He spins and leaves you, the door shutting with a click and releasing you to your self-reproach. You drop your head in your hands and huff. You are leaving the minute your sister wakes up. You never want to see that man again. You just pray he forgets you just as quickly as you want to forget this whole night. 

🃏

You hardly sleep. Your sister’s drunken snoring keeps you from relaxing for more than twenty minutes at a time, not to mention how unsettled you are. You hate sleeping in new places but moreso you hate that even on a night out, after all the assurance that you could just enjoy yourself, that you are once more a burden for someone else. 

You get up just after six. You rub your forehead as you go out into the front room and look over the amenities. There’s a fancy coffee maker with pods and a mini fridge with a glass door. You take out a bottle of water to leave by the bed for Roxie then return to figure out the coffee. You don’t often have any but your head is pounding. 

You sit down and sneer at the bitterness. Did you make it right? You never liked the taste so you can’t tell. You finish the cup if only for the soothing warmth. 

At seven, you get up to check on Roxie again. She’s still out like a light. Come on! You want to go. 

You rinse the mug in the sink as best you can and return it to the shelf. There’s a knock on the door. You flinch and reluctantly tread down to the hall. You peep through the hole as you fix your clothing. You push down the handle slowly to greet the woman with the cart. 

The golden embroidery on her white blouse marks her as an employee and she beams a smile in your direction. It’s too early for that amount of cheer. She has her hands on the cart, angling it towards the door. 

“Morning, miss, breakfast, complements of Mr. Barnes,” she declares, “where can I put it?” 

“Um,” you back up slowly, “inside... uh, by the table, I guess.” 

She rolls the cart in and asks if you need anything else before she leaves. You shake your head. There’s more than enough there for you and Roxie. If she can even stomach any of it. You’ve seen the way she is after her nights out. 

You sit and stare at the buffet of food before you. Fresh fruit, waffles, pancakes, french toast, bacon, eggs... everything and more. Just another favour to feel bad for. 

As you look over it all, you notice a note, nestled between the glasses beside the pitcher of orange juice. You take it. That must be the bill. You unfold it and read the slanted capitals hand-written across the casino-branded page. 

‘Good Morning, Doll,  

Enjoy breakfast on me. 

B. Barnes’ 

Under his name, is a sharp zigzag of the same black ink, a post script below. 

‘PS. If you’re still looking for a job, call me.’ 

You nearly drop the paper. What? You stare at the digits of his phone number and slowly lower your hand to your lap. This can’t be real. Could you really work at a casino? Would you be a dealer? Or maybe you’d be more suited to a cleaner, somewhere you can be out of the way. 

A long groan interrupts your inner turmoil. You fold the paper and tuck it away. It’s something. You’ll have to just figure out later what. 

“Coffee,” Roxie grumbles as she appears in the doorframe, gripping her skull. 

“Oh, uh, sure,” you get up and go to the machine. You grab a random pod and shove it into the top. 

“Where... how’d we get here?” She sits heavily and reaches for a piece of bacon. 

“Um, you... you were really drunk so...” 

“How the hell did you get us a room? Wait. Did we win? Blackjack?” She bites into the greasy strip and moans. “Or... I didn’t sleep with that guy, did I?” 

“Erm,” you frown, thinking for a moment before you realise she must mean that Sam guy. “No...” 

You don’t explain. You don’t know how. Oh yeah, you were such a disaster that the owner noticed and didn’t kick us out. Actually, he let us stay in an overpriced suite because... you don’t know. 

“He must be loaded if he’s handing out hotel rooms,” she scoffs as she continues on in her assumption. You don’t correct her. It doesn’t matter. “Coffee,” she snaps her fingers as the grind quiets. 

You bring her the mug and she adds too many packets of sugar before she tastes it. You hide the paper in your cardigan pocket and search for your purse. You fish your watch out of it and put it around your wrist checking the time. 

“We should head out before nine,” you say. 

“Why?” She scoffs. “Ugh, what’s the bath like in this place? I could use a soak.” 

“Mom’s going to be worried.” 

“Nah, she knows I’ll get you back,” she waves you off and stands.  

She walks slowly, rubbing her temples as she sips from the cup, and examines the hotel room. She dips into the bathroom and the light flicks on. You hear her turning the faucet and shifting things around.  

You play with the zipper of your purse. You reach inside and pull out your phone. You get up to grab the key folder and enter the wifi code into your outdated model. It takes far too long to connect. You type into the search of your browser, ‘Bucky Barnes’. 

Almost at once, an image of the very man who carried Roxie into this room appears. It’s familiar. You tap it and it opens up a local news story. That makes sense. He’s younger, his hair is shorter. You remember when the casino changed hands and was renovated all those years ago. It was big news. 

Hm. Not just rich, famous, at least to a degree. It means he has a lot more going on than two disorderly girls at his casino. He’ll forget. You just hope you can too. 

Roxie comes back in a robe and put her mug on the table, “make me another. I’m gonna try those jets.” 

She spins away and you stare at her empty cup. How can she not care about anything? Does she not realise that she ruined the night? That she made a fool of both of you? No, she just sees shiny things and forgets all about her own behaviour. 

Well, you’re not like her. You don’t like being a burden or asking for things or living on someone else’s affection. You look down and feel along your pocket, the slip of paper firm through the fabric. You could clean a few hotel toilets for a buck. It’s not like you have much else going on.