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loricciardo · 9 days ago

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CHAPTER TWO | TOO SWEET

tags. original female character, jos verstappen, depictions of physical and verbal abuse in reference to max & jos, mild references to childhood loneliness and emotional isolation, mentions of of pressure and high expectations in youth sports, neglectful parenting.

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The next day, Max won the race. And Natalie tried not to be too disappointed about it.

Third place was still good, even if it wasn’t like the result she had yesterday. Natalie had gotten a decent start, stayed clean into the first corner, and fought like hell to keep up, but Max was just… faster. He flew out of corners like he was superman, and the kart was an extension to him. He didn’t fight the tires, they just listened to him.

Natalie’s didn’t. Hers slid and squealed and snapped through every tight chicane, almost sending her kart flying sideways.

Still, she smiled as she pulled off her helmet. Michael ruffled her sweaty hair as soon as she stepped into organization’s tent.

“You drove well,” he smiled simply.

And that was enough for her, even if she hadn’t necessarily won. Even if Mick had beaten her, too, finishing second and already grinning, acting like he already won the entire karting championship.

Her papa never ever measured her by which trophy she held. He looked at how she fought, how she learned, how she tried. He said that made someone a real driver.

But still… Natalie glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see the scary man smiling and hugging Max after his win. But.. he wasn’t. He still looked furious.

She didn’t know why, and truthfully, she didn’t want to. Maybe she was still too shy from yesterday’s hotdog. Or maybe it was just the way that scary man, who she learned was Max’s father, hovered nearby, arms crossed, barking in Dutch at no one in particular. Max stood silently beside his kart, eyes on the ground, while the man paced and shouted like he was running the military.

Natalie’s brows pulled together. She didn’t get it at all. When she won yesterday, her papa picked her up off the ground. Told her he was proud. Ruffled her hair and lovingly kissed the top of her head.

Wasn’t that what winning was supposed to feel like? Wasn’t winning supposed to be celebrated?

Natalie was pulled out of her thoughts when her papa gently touched her back, nodding toward the podium marshal. “Come on Nat,” he winked. “You still earned a podium.”

At the podium, Max stood stiffly with his trophy while Mick gleefully sprayed pretend champagne at anyone within range. Then came the slow shuffle back toward the motorhomes, shoes scuffing against the gravel, the lively thrill already fading into dusk.

Natalie hung in the back on purpose.

She looked ahead and saw the scary man walking in front of Max, holding Max’s trophy like it was his. Max followed in silence, hands empty, head down. She felt her stomach twist again. She thought about saying something. But what exactly would she say? She didn’t even know if Max remembered her name.

So she just walked quietly alongside Mick, who was still chattering about his overtake on lap nine. But her eyes kept drifting, just slightly, to the small boy walking alone behind his father.

It was later, when most of the motorhomes were winding down for the evening, that she found herself outside again. Her socks half-damp from the grass, arms folded tightly over her oversized hoodie she had stolen from her papa.

Max was crouched near the edge of the lot again, fiddling with a stick and drawing shapes in the dirt.

She hesitated, but her papa always said to go where her gut told her on the track. Maybe it worked off the track, too. Therefore, she stepped closer.

Max didn’t flinch when he saw her this time. He just looked up from the dirt, squinting slightly.

“Hi,” she said, and Max curtly nodded once. “Sorry you didn’t get to keep your trophy,” she added with a grimace.

Max looked at the ground again. “He always keeps them.”

Natalie didn’t know what to say to that, so she sat down beside him again, legs folded under her, letting the silence stretch between them. That was, until she got a million dollar idea.

“Come with me,” Natalie smiled, brushing the damp grass off her shorts as she stood up. She glanced at Max, who looked hesitant. He wasn’t quite sure she had honestly been talking to him, but there was the faintest flicker of trust crossed his face when she waved him forward.

Max stood slowly and followed Natalie, his steps careful and quiet. They walked side by side through the maze of motorhomes and trailers, past tangled cables and scattered karting gear, until they reached Natalie’s own little home on wheels. The faded red trim on the trailer caught the ray of the dimly lit street lamp, and a hand painted Ferrari sticker, peeling at the edges, clung to the door.

A battered wooden bench rested beside the trailer, its legs sinking unevenly into the dirt. Natalie pointed to it. “You.. can sit. I will go get something.”

Max, without a word, eased himself onto the bench, folding his hands nervously in his lap. He itched his buzzed blonde hair, fingers lingering at the back of his neck like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. His shoulders were tense, hunched slightly. His blue eyes kept glancing toward the Verstappen motorhome every few seconds, like he was waiting for someone to call him back, or worse, catch him here.

Inside the trailer, the air was cool and smelled faintly of motor oil and worn leather. Her father was resting, headphones on, a karting manual open but forgotten on the table. She moved as quietly as she could, careful not to disturb him. Michael’s soft breathing was the only sound as she rummaged in a drawer until her fingers found the worn rubber band around a deck of playing cards, edges dog eared and bent from travel.

She clutched the deck and slipped back outside, trying not to trip on the steps. Max was still sitting where she left him, hands clasped tight in his lap.

She dropped down opposite him on the bench and spread the cards between them.

“Do you know how to play Go Fish?” she asked carefully, enunciating the words as best she could.

Max tilted his head. “Fish? Like… swimming?” He made a flicking motion with his hand, his mouth quirking into a shy grin.

Natalie chuckled. “No, no. Not water fish. Cards fish,” she pulled two matching cards from the deck and held them up.

“You look for the same,” she said simply.

“Ah,” Max nodded slowly. “Same cards.”

She dealt them each seven cards, the worn deck shuffling unevenly in her hands.

“You ask,” Natalie mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “’Do you have… five?’” Holding up the five of hearts.

Max looked at his cards, then at her. “Do you have… five?” His words came out slow, but clear.

“Yes! Very good!” She smiled wide, passing him the card.

Max’s grin grew a little, small but real, and he slipped the card into his hand.

They played like that for a while. Slowly, awkwardly, laughing at their mistakes. Natalie mixed English and German, Max added quiet bits of Dutch. They stumbled over numbers and words, but remarkably, the game unfolded smoothly, each card a small bridge between two worlds. Dutch, Natalie noticed, wasn’t so far from German after all! Some of the words sounded familiar. Echoes from home just spoken in a different rhythm. She understood just enough to keep up, and Max understood just enough to grin when she teased him for losing.

“Do you have… seven?” Max asked after a few turns, holding up his cards like a shield.

“No seven,” Natalie groaned. “Go fish, boy.”

He drew a card and his face lit up. “Lucky!”

“Very lucky,” Natalie giggled back, holding her hand out for him to shake. “Good game.”

Max stared at her hand for a long moment, then shook it with a quiet grin. “Good game,” he said again.

For the first time since arriving at the track, Natalie felt something that didn’t come from her father’s proud smile or Mick’s playful teasing. Max was different from those two. She hugged her knees tighter, watching the boy shuffle the cards slowly, his blue eyes fixed on the worn deck. She was used to being supported, having people in her corner. But it was rare to sit with someone her age who didn’t already know her, who wasn’t her brother or one of his friends. Someone who didn’t treat her like a Schumacher, just… Natalie.

After a pause, she spoke softly, “Your papa… he is… mad with you?”

Max’s hands stilled on the cards. He glanced up, startled by the question, then quickly looked away, eyes narrowing. “Why do you ask?”

Natalie bit her lip, hesitating. “I see him. At the track. He shouts at you.” Natalie looked down at her scuffed shoes.

Max sighed, leaning back against the bench and dropping the cards on his lap. “Yeah..,” he admitted quietly. “He shouts a lot.”

Natalie’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But my papa never yells at me like that. He says I am strong, no matter what. He tells me he is proud.”

Max looked at her, surprise flickering in his eyes. “Your papa… he doesn’t get mad?”

“No,” she replied quickly. “Even when I make mistakes, he smiles. He says I am learning. That I will be better next time.”

Max’s lips pressed together, and for a moment he stared at the ground. “That’s… nice.”

Natalie nodded slowly, her green eyes thoughtful. “Why does your papa yell then? Does he not love you?”

Max shrugged, picking at a splinter in the wood. “He loves me. But… he thinks love is making me better by pushing me harder. If I don’t win… he’s angry. Says I need to be perfect.”

Natalie looked down. “My papa says I don’t have to be perfect to be loved. That being myself is enough.”

Max gave a small, bitter laugh. “It… I… Sometimes, I think he cares more about winning than about me.”

Natalie reached out tentatively, placing her hand lightly on his arm. “That… doesn’t sound like love. To me, at least.”

Max looked at her, surprised. Silence stretched between them.

Then he asked quietly, “Your papa… you are sure he is proud of you?”

Natalie shrugged, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Yes. Always. Even when I’m not the fastest or the best. He says I make him proud just by trying.”

Max frowned, looking almost jealous. “That sounds like a really good papa.”

Before she could say more, a sharp voice cut through the quiet.

“Max!”

They both jumped, startled like dogs caught sneaking food off the dinner table. Jos Verstappen stood just a few feet away, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, shoulders tense beneath the weight of barely contained fury. His stance was sharp. Rooted, unmovable, like a warning sign in human form. The late night light cut across his face, casting half of it in shadow and making the glare in his eyes burn even colder.

Max’s smile disappeared. He stood up quickly, knocking over the cards from his lap.

Jos stormed over, speaking quickly in Dutch, his tone harsh and commanding.

Natalie caught only a few words. And Schumacher was one among them. She felt her heart tighten, the sound of her last name spat like an insult. The rest of the sentence blurred past her, sharp consonants and vowels tumbling too fast for her to understand, but the intention was clear. Jos’ voice was like gravel; low, cold, hurtful.

She wasn’t used to that kind of anger. Not ever directed at her, especially from a parent of a teammate.

Her papa never raised his voice like that. He didn’t get in her face or bark orders like she was something that needed fixing. So she stood there frozen, unsure what she’d done to make this scary man look at her like that.

Natalie didn’t speak. She couldn’t. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Just the sound of Max shifting nervously beside her, his shoulders curling inward, trying to shrink himself small enough to disappear.

Jos switched to English, his voice cutting through the quiet like a snapped branch.

“You,” he spat, jabbing a finger in Natalie’s direction. “Don’t you ever talk to my son again.”

Natalie blinked, startled. “What?” she asked, the word slipping out before she could stop it.

Jos didn’t look confused, but rather he looked furious. Cold and sure of himself in that terrifying, know it all, grown-up way that made Natalie feel suddenly very small.

“You heard me,” Jos deadpanned. “I don’t want you near him.”

Max had gone still beside the bench, shoulders tensed, eyes flicking between his father and Natalie like he didn’t know what to do. But only that he couldn’t do anything.

Natalie stood up slowly, the bench creaking behind her, and instinctively took a step back from Jos. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, fingers curling into the fabric of her sleeves.

“I’m so sorry sir,” she spoke quietly, voice small but steady. “We were just playing.”

Jos scoffed like the idea was laughable. “You think this is a game?” he snapped. “You race against my son. You don’t get to be ‘just playing’ with him.”

Natalie blinked again, confused. “But.. why does that matter?”

Jos leaned in closer, and even though she held her ground, every part of her wanted to run. “Because your name is a problem,” he frowned. “Your father is soft. He tells the press how proud he is of you when you lose. You really think that teaches anything? You’re a pathetic girl in this sport, paraded around like she’s earned it. When it’s just your name doing all the heavy lifting.” His voice was sharper now, slicing through the young girl like ice. “And I will not have Max around that.”

The words landed like stones in her chest. She didn’t understand all of what Jos had meant, but the cruelty in his voice was clear.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Max shift his weight like he might speak, but he didn’t. He didn’t even lift his head.

“You’re not to speak to him again,” Jos informed, straightening. “Not at the track. And especially not afterwards. Nowhere.” His gaze swept to Max. “You. Let’s go.”

Max didn’t move right away. Then, without a word, he turned with his shoulders still hunched. He followed after his father, eyes fixed on the gravel.

He did not give Natalie a goodbye. No backward glance. Absolutely fucking nothing.

Natalie stood in the silence they left behind, the sound of the wind gently rattling through the trees and tents. The cards that had been in Max’s lap were now scattered across the grass, some of them face down in the dirt, others turned upward like they were still waiting for the next move. One fluttered a few inches farther with the breeze, then settled near her feet, its edges bent.

Natalie’s hands were clenched at her sides, jaw tight, but she didn’t understand why. She’d done nothing wrong, in fact, she was only but kind to Max. And honestly, the only one who was kind to Max.

The other kids at the karting track whispered behind his back sneered when Max passed by, calling him weird, quiet, even scary. They kept their distance, wary of the boy who rarely spoke and whose sharp blue eyes seemed to look right through them. But Natalie saw something different. She saw someone who needed a friend. Someone who deserved better. Yet now, standing alone as they walked away, she wondered if her kindness was worth what had just happened.

She didn’t know what to call what Max’s father had said. But she knew, deep down, that it wasn’t love.

And for the first time, something bitter and unfamiliar bloomed in her chest. Not because she had been yelled at by Jos, but for the little boy who hadn’t even looked back.

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myownwholewildworld · 10 months ago

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acta, non verba - i. a badge of honour

series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 2 pairing: conqueror!marcus acacius x ofc!reader. synopsis: scotland, 83 AD after the battle of mons graupius. the romans have come up to the boundaries of their empire with a relentless desire to conquer the savages that inhabit the highlands. they won't rest until the Caledonian tribes are subjugated. Marcus Acacius is in charge of your clansmen's fate, but if such fate is similar to your family's, you know you need to do something about it. as the only living daughter of the tribe chief, your people look to you for leadership. power plays, treason, deception, rebellion, war, love, heartbreak, betrayal. and two souls, destined to despise each other, trying to navigate it all. a/n: well, here it is! the first chapter of my new series, set in what is now scotland, during the romans' conquest of the british isles in the 1st century. hope you guys like it! as always, all interactions welcome. thank you so much for reading! <3 warnings: 18+, mdni. death, aftermath of a battle, burial of family members. reader is an original character - female, has a name (callie) and a physical description, family history, etc. i'll try to keep the references to a minimum though. age gap (callie is 26, marcus is 48). mention of infidelity and becoming a widow. marcus’ and reader’s pov. i have taken some historical licenses for ease of writing (use of "clan" as synonym for "tribe", references to irish/celtic gods, the caledonian people speak modern scottish gaelic instead of a (proto-)brittonic language). w/c: ~4.2k. dividers by @saradika-graphics i'll be tagging some people at the end of the chapter who interacted with this post. dw, i won't tag you in the next chapters unless you ask me to! also, if you want to be removed from this post, please send me a dm.

A light breeze whistled through the nearby standing stones. The dying sun provided no heat, and the ethereal landscape was cold with hues of blue and grey. Despite the shimmering wildlife that came with the first hints of spring, the meadow was uncannily silent.

The crows cackling in the distance broke such tranquil peace and woke you from your slumber.

Slowly you blinked, something wet and warm covering your eyelids. You felt it slide down your skin, pooling in the dip of your collarbone. Your limbs felt so heavy, you couldn’t lift a hand to rub your eyes clean. In fact, you were so tired that even taking a deep breath hurt.

Your orbs fluttered shut, shattered and defeated.

Dhuosnos, God of the Dead, was calling you to His side. His presence was soothing, so inviting, the most melodic sounds guiding you to Him. With the eyes of your dying imagination, He extended a welcoming hand towards you, a soft smile on His mythical features.

“Come with me, sweet child of the tribes.” A guttural voice escaped His lips, so dark and sombre it enveloped you.

You nodded, gaze down, submitted to Him.

“You can’t just take her, Dhuosnos. Callie is yet to avenge them — her purpose must be fulfilled first before she can greet you as an equal.” A second voice, feminine, otherworldly and reassuring, interrupted your exchange.

Morrígan, Goddess of War, placed Her hand on Dhuosnos’ forearm as to stop Him from reaching you. A stone of relief, but also of disappointment, sat low in your stomach when He took a step back, head bowed towards Her.

Steadily you undid your curtsy, your green eyes locking on Hers. They were black as the night sky, Her pupils and irises indistinguishable from one another. You looked into the abyss of Her sight and felt a deep-rooted longing, one you never experienced before.

“You are not done yet, mo leanabh (my child). Your people await your return.” Morrígan palmed your trembling hand, escorting you back to the earthly plane.

“But…”, you turned around to look at Her, ask for Her advice.

But She had already vanished, a sweet scent of lavander left behind.

You gasped awake, your eyes so widened, the cloudy, sunset sky above felt like it was crashing down on you. You were laying down on a pool of mud. A deep, raspy grunt escaped your lungs as you tried to move your arms. When you couldn’t, you looked down, confused.

Aengus’ lifeless body was resting on top of yours. Your father’s henchman had made the ultimate sacrifice by hiding you underneath him, away from the prying eyes of the Romans. The dense liquid caressing the skin on your face was none other than his blood. A trickle of thick red dripped from the gnarly wound in his neck on to your cheek. His eyes were staring at you emptily, his soul had already left this world when you regained consciousness.

Your father, Murdoch of Inbhir Nis, the Caledonian Overlord, had come to the aid of the Taexalian Overlord, whose territory was succumbing to the legions of Gnaeus Julius Agricola, a Roman governor with a high desire to impress his Emperor, Titus Flavius Domitianus.

Your father had gathered as many fighers as the Caledonian lands could give him. Both men and women were called to arms when the tribes were threatened. Being the daughter of the Chieftain would not spare you. You would not have chosen differently anyway, had you been given the opportunity. Fighting for land, clan and honour was your duty as much as your brothers’ and sister’s.

The journey from Inbhir Nis (Inverness) to Cala na Creige (Stonehaven) had been unforgiving, with illness and evil lying in wait. But you all had been warmly welcomed by the Taexali tribe and were fed copiously, the uisge-beatha (whisky) being served like water.

Your combined armies, shy of fifteen thousand folk, had been ambushed at Raedykes during a repositioning exercise by the Roman troops led by Agricola’s most trusted man.

General Marcus Acacius.

His mere name made you sick, anger crawling under your skin.

Fighting off your own opponents, you had seen the Roman General charge against your father like a beast, wielding a gladius over his head. The metallic impact of their swords rang loud across the landscape. The men looked into each other’s souls, an exchange of words shared between them. You were too far to listen, too far to fully see what was really happening as warriors from both sides danced through the grass.

Then you foresaw it before it happened: the heavy Roman sword fell on your father, who was struck to his knees with the General’s blade lodged in his belly.

You tried to get to him, screaming “Athair (father)!” at the top of your lungs. His eyes locked on yours before he fell sideways. You lunged forward but didn’t get to him, Aengus stopping you in your tracks.

“No, Callie, it’s too late now”, he had sorrowfully whispered in your ear before throwing you off to one side to fend off an attacker.

And then blackness swallowed you, an enemy hit you in the head so hard you lost consciousness.

That was how you came to be where you were — with your back flat on the silt and Aengus’ body blanketing yours. The grey sky above you sensed your pain, and, at Taranis’ command, it parted in the middle. The God of Thunder released a downpour to clean the blood, soot and woad’s blue dye off your face and hair.

You cried your sadness away, rainy tears sliding off the corners of your eyes — your anger, your loss, your torment, you purged it all, sobbing until you were devoid of all emotion. Taking a deep breath, which caused a needling pain on your ribs, you pushed Aengus to one side to free yourself from his weight.

The thudding sound he made almost brought more tears to your eyes.

“Sorry, uncail (uncle)”, you muttered, hovering your fingertips over his eyelids to shut them for him. Now he could finally rest.

You stood up, your knees trembling like a newborn calf. A searing pain stabbed your skull, dried blood and dirt gathering on the wound on your scalp. With a straight back, you dared to look around you. The bodies of your own men and women were scattered around the hills of Raedykes. So many lives lost, you heard all your ancestors screaming from above, their cries falling upon you in the way of rain. The green, long grass was reddened with blood, but the weeping sky had started to wash away the atrocities committed by the Romans.

Then you saw him. Your athair.

“No, no, please, no...”, you whispered as your sight became blurry again, dragging your feet towards the fallen body of your dad.

Your soul tried to tear itself apart, become its own entity. You had to summon the last drop of the royal blood that ran through your veins to keep yourself in one piece. You knelt before him, craddling his bloody hand between yours. Unconciously your body rocked back and forth until you hugged him, laying flat on top of him.

Time stood still, like a thread on the expert hands of a wool weaver. It could have been minutes, hours or days, your pain too great to bear, to comprehend.

And then you felt a hand lightly tap your shoulder.

You startled, your mind and body jumping back into survival mode, gripping your sgian-dubh (small knife) close to your chest.

“It’s okay, mo phiuthar (my sister). It’s me, Torcall”, a raspy, masculine voice forced you to focus on the man in front of you.

He was your father’s most important tacksman and also husband to your older sister Mairead — your sweet Maisie, as you always called her. She was the eldest of the four siblings while you were the youngest. Always so witty and quick with a joke, Maisie kept up the spirits even when the circumstances were dire — in fact, before your paths had parted during the battle, she jested about your H-shaped shield being larger than you.

When you turned around, Torcall flattened his hands on your shoulders, slightly shaking you so you would come back to reality.

His blue eyes pierced through you, the situation becoming clearer in your mind. Thousands of your tribesmen were dead. Your father too.

“Maisie?”, you asked in a hush. Your heart clenched when your brother-in-law shook his head no. You were afraid to speak, but you did nonetheless. “Aodh and Somhairle?”

Torcall stared at you, his silence speaking loudly. “They are all dead.”

The air evacuated your lungs, feeling as if a spear had run through you. Learning about the death of Maisie and your twin brothers broke something within you, something fundamental and primal. They were your everything, your most trusted confidants. Despite being of different ages, you all were so tight-knit it was difficult to find one of you alone.

A heart-shattering wail escaped your lips as you bent over yourself, your chest snug against your knees.

Morrígan had unashamedly claimed most of your family that day, except for your beautiful mother. Now Her words made sense: you were yet to avenge them, to fulfil your purpose. She had spared you for a reason, not so you could pity yourself, knees deep in the mud.

To avenge them, you had to kill the hand who showered this tragedy upon you.

General Marcus Acacius.

A raven’s strident, gurgling croak forced you to look up to the skies — a subtle reminder that Morrígan was watching closely. The massive bird was circling above your heads, like a vulture waiting to feast on a carcass. With resolution, you wiped away your tears, your sobs now silent, and nodded at Torcall.

“I understand. How many…?”, your voice faltered before you could finish your question.

“A couple of thousands. We have found cover in the Dunnottar Woods while we regroup and… bury our dead.” Torcall replied, his eyes averted with the last sentence.

You had lost a sister, but he had lost a wife, the mother to his now half-orphaned children. “I’m sorry”, you muttered, your lips pouting once more.

“She died fighting, the death of a warrior.” His proud voice did not waver. “And your father?”

Your heart wept at his mention but managed to control the anxious fluttering.

“The General killed him.” Your teeth gritted with hatred.

“Mo bana-phrionnsa (my princess)”, one of your father’s retinue members bowed his head to you once you walked into the circle they had formed in a meadow between the trees.

A few dozen men were scattered around the area, fires lighting the dark night while shades of red and orange flickered, creating fiery, dancing shades. You held a torch and carefully waved it in front of you, looking at the faces who watched you back eagerly.

You saw in your men what was brewing inside you: despair, defeat, sorrow. All your souls grieving in unison — all of you had lost someone that day.

At six and twenty, you did not expect to be in this position. You were the youngest daughter of the Overlord — you were never meant to lead your people. The task ahead of you felt titanic, unachievable.

But you had no other option. General Marcus Acacius had forced your hand.

He came, he saw, he conquered.

And now you had to deal with the gut-wrenching outcome of his departure.

“We’ll go back home to Inbhir Nis. But before that, we must give burial to our people.” You had to make a herculean effort to infuse your tone with steadiness.

Torcall first, and then the rest, bowed their heads to you.

“As you command, mo bana-phrionnsa”, he replied, and quickly barked orders around in your stead.

Your chest felt heavy with responsibility and grief. What pained you the most was not being able to carry your brothers and sister with you back home. They would not be buried under the cairns near you family home with the rest of your ancestors.

And what was worst — thousands of lives now depended on you. The weight of your tribe's destiny heavily rested on your shoulders now, like Atlas carrying the heavens.

Maisie, Aodh and Somhairle had been lined up on a patch of wildflowers that you had picked yourself the night prior — their arms were threaded together with your sister in the middle. Your clansmen had also surrounded the makeshift burial pit with wood to aid the combustion.

As you placed the last stone on top of them, you also deposited a bright, bloomed thistle. The flower that blossomed in every nook and cranny of your beautiful motherland, despite the harsh winter or conditions it faced. Like the phoenix rising from the ashes, it would always come back, stronger and more brightful than ever.

Devotion, bravery, determination, and strength — the thistle was a badge of honour for the Caledonians.

With a renewed brawn unbeknownst to you, you threw the lighted torch and watched as the fire consumed the bodies underneath the stones.

There were no tears left within you. Only purpose and resolution.

The way back to Inbhir Nis was tiring and soul-crushing. Hiking through the Cairngorms had been a difficult task with so many people behind you, but luckily you all managed to make it through without any losses.

With each mile covered, you saw the devastation left behind by the Romans. If this was any indication of what awaited ahead, you should start bracing yourself for what you would see. It seemed that the Romans were set towards the northwest — Inbhir Nis was right in their path.

You quickly recognised the landscape as you walked towards Loch Moy. A thick, dark column of smoke towered above the pine trees. Your heart raced as you picked up your dark green skirt and ran towards the loch, ignoring the calls of your brother-in-law.

You could run through those woods blindly — this was the land where you were born, the land you were named after. Your name was an unusual one — Caledonia, in honour of the earth beneath your rushing feet. Just a few people called you Callie, mainly your family and closest friends. With your bright, fiery red hair, green almond eyes and a face dotted with freckles, you were the epitome of your people. That was probably why when someone new learned your name, they always said it suited you.

Dodging the last few trees, you made it to the edge of the loch. In the shallows, the crannog of Naimh, your community’s healer, was burning down to its foundation. You covered your mouth with a sombre expression, your eyes itchy because of the dense smoke and unspent tears.

The Romans had gotten to your settlement before you did.

“Callie, wait up”, said Torcall behind you, struggling to catch up with you.

He halted right behind you, the silence between you was almost tangible.

“The rangers have returned from their reconnaissance mission.” His voice was plain, contained. You turned your heard towards him, slowly, hardening yourself for his next words. “Your mother is dead.”

The last glimmer of hope within you vanished. A single tear skidded through your cheek — angrily, you wiped it off.

You were alone in this world. Everyone you cared for had been taken from you.

“Is everything to your liking, Dominus (Master)?”, the male roman servant asked in a low hush, head bowed, eyes fixed on the cobblestone.

“Yes, now leave”, Marcus dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

The General looked around him with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. He was accustomed to much more elegant surroundings. Although the barbarians did try, their architecture was nothing in comparison to Rome’s.

The castle he was in was small and it only had two floors. It was mainly made of sturdy, grey rocks and dark wood. The design was not very sophisticated, all square and rugged edges. It had two towers and a barbican. The decoration inside was bare, with just enough furniture and no luxuries.

The only warmth was brought by the colourful tapestries adorning the cold, thick walls — one had caught Marcus' attention at his arrival when he first entered the dais. It told a story he had not heard before.

A dragon-like figure lurked beneath the rippling surface of a lake, attracting the attention of the villagers. At dusk it would emerge, a guttural sound echoing in the dead of night, as if it was calling another. Any bìrlinns (wooden vessel) left on the shore would appear destroyed the next morning. Fishermen were worried and called upon the town's druids, afraid of the Loch Ness monster. To appease the beast, every full moon, the druids would whorship the creature, bringing oblations and sacrificies to quench its thirst.

Marcus made a mental note of keeping his distance from that Loch Ness. As a devoted Roman, he was wary of the mystic creatures that skulked in the depths of human fear.

Although he missed his home, he had several debts to pay. The Emperor would not accept no for an answer, so he had to be a reluctant participant in this incursion — in fact, neither Domitian nor Agricola had really asked him to tame the highlanders up in Caledonia. They knew his skills would be most needed in combat, having been praised by bards and poets alike after his many years in the battlefield.

At eight and forty, Marcus Acacius had had his good share of tragedy and death, both personal and in war. His life had not been easy, having to forge a name of his own since childbirth and then having been recently betrayed by his own spouse.

The thought of Livia still angered him — she had had the audacity of blaming him for her infidelity, accusing him of always being away, of loving Rome more than his own family. Her cheating had been going on for as many years as their arranged marriage, throwing a doubtful shade on his paternity to both his children.

His life had come crumbling down in the last few months, so maybe coming to Britannia had not been such a bad idea. Female adultery was a crime penalised with death and that was a decision that Marcus had yet to make — outing Livia’s unfaithfulness would condemn her to Pluto's realm. Did he really want that for who had been his wife for more than thirty years?

Pinching the bridge of his hooked nose, Marcus walked towards the only window in the room. The roman took a deep breath and exhaled steadily — he needed to think of something else.

His mind went back to the battle of Mons Graupius. The spilling of blood never became easier with time — if anything, it had become harder, splintering his soul further. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear the piercing, pained shriek of a woman as he imparted death on Murdoch of Inbhir Nis.

Her hair was dyed with black soot and tied back, her face covered in a blue paste and ash. He was too far to catch the colour of her eyes, but he thought them dark azure. The fierceness of her expression took him aback, her voice shouting a word he did not recognise. But his eyes did not have time to linger on the feral woman a few yards away, because a savage attacked him.

His hand stilled on the rocky window’s sill. The barbarians called this place Inbhir Nis. The stone castle was that of the chief’s family, atop of a hill with views to the scenery underneath. It was rudimentary and lacked many commodities — nothing comparable to his villa in Rome. The tribal settlement was formed of huts made of stone, timber and hay.

Agricola had decided to burn down the outskirts of the town and killed the wife of the clan chief making a macabre example of her, so the people would submit to the Roman’s yoke quickly, crushing any opportunity of rebellion. The message was clear: Rome would not tolerate being challenged. Anyone who did, would face the most painful of deaths. The governor left to go northward, leaving Marcus behind to rebuild the area to Rome’s standards. The emperor had deemed the location an important enclave for his empire, being the main town in the Moray Firth.

Marcus was standing in what he thought was the bedchamber of Murdoch. With the Overlord and his family alienated, the primitive people of the highlands needed educating and he had been given the task of doing so. Not a welcomed one, but he had a duty to Rome that had to be fulfilled.

With a heavy sigh, he undid the brooch at the base of his neck, relieving himself of the heavy, white sagum (cape) that was part of his attire. He threw it on the uncomfortable bed. He unfastened the golden, laurel-shaped bracelets around his wrists, and then proceeded to undo the tight knots that held his armour in place.

Then a knock on the thick, wooden door broke the silence of the room.

“Come in”, thinking it would be his male servant, he didn’t turn around.

“Dominus, dinner is ready”, a very soft voice with a very marked accent made him look over his shoulder.

A pair of very bright, almond-shaped, emerald-green eyes locked on his, framed by what he would describe as fire hair — so red it looked like a hellish aura crowning your head.

So bright were your eyes, he almost felt his soul being examined by your hypnotising gaze. Marcus had never seen eyes like those.

How dared he stand where your father did? Anger shimmered under your skin, but you kept it in check. When you realised you were holding his gaze for longer than what was appropriate for a servant girl, you averted your eyes, inspecting the stones under your feet.

Torcall called you mad for doing this, but you had made up your mind. If you really wanted to overthrow the Roman General and win back your family’s castle and land, you would need to sew yourself into his everyday life. Gain his trust, learn his secrets and use that information against him. Your people were counting on you for freedom, and you would not allow yourself to disappoint them. Even if it was the last thing you did.

“Who are you?”, his raspy voice filled the atmosphere as he resumed the task of undoing the ties on his armour.

Did he have no shame, undressing himself in front of a maid? Mind you, you were not an innocent servant, having been widowed recently. But still. The romans had no modesty, you assumed.

You had to think quickly. You had learnt that the governor and the general both thought the whole chief’s family dead, so you could not out yourself. A very few, selected people called you Callie, almost always in the intimacy of your home, when strangers were not around. Your nickname was precious to you because it was only used by those you loved.

“My name is Callie, Dominus”, you offered your nickname in a rusty Latin. It had been a while since you had to use a language that was not your native one.

“Callie.” The way your name rolled off his tongue gave you goosebumps. You didn’t like the way he pronounced it — it lingered in his mouth for too long, dragging each letter. You wished your words back, but you couldn't change it now.

Instead of clenching your jaw, you nodded. “Yes, my lord, I’m one of the servant girls who tended to the clan chief’s family before you.” You explained, your head still bowed.

You ventured your eyes up for a second, catching a glimpse of his naked torso. Unconsciously, you pursed your lips. The way your heart pounded loud for that one second made you furrow your brows in confusion.

He might be a gorgeous man, but he was a killer. And you had no taste for soulless murderers, that much you knew about yourself.

“Call my attendant, Atticus, to help me get ready for supper. I have no need of you. And ask the kitchen staff to heat some water and bring it up here.” His tone was emphatic, unwavering.

His rejection, in other circumstances, would have been most welcomed, but you needed him to trust you, to confide in you so you could plot his demise — to destroy him. This was not a good start to your plan, but you needed to play the long game.

“I could certainly help you with a bath now, Dominus, but your wish is my command.” You forced the words out, when in reality you wanted to spit them to his murderous face.

He just nodded in your direction, his movements stiff and measured. “Just my attendant will suffice, now go.”

With your fingers laced on your back, you curtsied, walking backwards towards the door of your father’s bedchamber. You could not seem too eager, or he would become suspicious.

When you were in the corridor with the door closed behind you, you took a deep breath and straightened your back.

You would not take no for an answer. Marcus Acacius would yield to you, whatever the cost.

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@witch-moon-babe @amortentiaxo @holaputanas @kmmg98

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hotvintagepoll · 9 months ago

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Welcome to the HOT AND VINTAGE MOVIE STARS poll blog!

The Scrungly Little Guys (gender neutral) Contest is currently in its quarterfinals stage. The scrungle contest enshrines the weird, the off-putting, the comic, the character actor, and the strange cinema legend. If you need a reminder of what scrungle means, this picture of an opossum is the golden standard.

All polls—including ongoing polls, previous rounds, old tournaments, the various shadow brackets, the Dracula Daily polls, and fun mini polls—can be found in the #hotvintagepoll tag. I am working on a more complete tagging system so people just here for the polls can navigate the blog more easily, but that's still in the works.

FAQs:

“Define scrungly?” For the purposes of this tournament, a contestant must noticeably present in some way as at least one of these: odd, bizarre, off-putting, disheveled, creeping, feral, small, filthy, silly, funny, kooky, comical, exhausted, or just plain strange. This contest presents a wide array of scrungly appeal, so not every contestant will hit every single one of these (but should, ideally, be a few of them). Scrungles were chosen based on how convincing their submitted propaganda was. This contest is all about oddball character actors, creeping henchmen, comic relief sidekicks—the side characters who never get the credit they deserve in proper rundowns of famous old movie actors.

"How do I decide who to vote for with the scrungles?" Vote on whoever seems scrungliest to you. Do not vote for someone based on hotness alone. The video propaganda, included under the cut, is highly encouraged for showcasing scrungles. This contest is very silly and does not always follow the same rules as the hotness tournaments.

"Hey! Some of these guys sucked and they shouldn't be here!" Yes, some of these guys sucked. I agree with you. For reasons I've gone into before, I don't exclude anyone from the contest for moral reasons, even if I personally think they were garbage. I do this because I cannot responsibly research and vet every competitor's background and legacy, and I'm not comfortable being the moral barometer for everyone, even in cases where I think it's really obvious. You are welcome to vote against people for moral reasons, but as mod I don’t post or boost negative propaganda about anyone.

If I see repetitive, trolling, or bigoted remarks in the comments, I will block you from this bracket. If you want to point out a competitor’s problematic aspects in the replies, that’s fine, but if I see bad-faith trolling, you will be blocked. I will also block if you start harassing other people voting on the polls. If you really hate that someone is winning, please post positive propaganda for their opponent instead.

I welcome additional propaganda for the scrungly little guys in reblogs or asks. I boost the best propaganda I see and try to boost equally for everyone. I don't accept propaganda that’s post-1970 or from non-film appearances. When sending your propaganda, please don't send me too many pics or videos at once—I max out at about four per ask.

The views expressed in the propaganda are not my own. I don’t alter submissions beyond fixing obvious spelling mistakes. I do choose the poll pics, purposely trying to pick the silliest ones possible for this contest; if you think I could do even sillier, send me one I can use instead. If you think a contestant needs more propaganda, send me an ask with some and let me know if you'd like it added to the poll post if they make it to the next round.

“Who won the major hottie tournaments?” Eartha Kitt and Toshiro Mifune are the reigning hotness champions. Sidney Poitier & Diahann Carroll were named the hottest movie couple. They are all living it up by the pool, drinking daiquiris and soaking up the sun, as far from the shadow realm as possible.

“What's the shadow realm?” All hotties who fail to continue in a tournament are sent to the shadow realm, far below the veil of the earth, in gloom ever-lingering and not-hotness evermore.

“Was [this famous person] submitted to any of the tournaments?” Try a tag search for them (ie, #james cagney in the search bar). If you still haven’t found your person, they either did not fit the criteria of working in movies from 1910-1970, weren't convincingly scrungly in their submission, or were not submitted at all.

“My FAQ isn’t on here :(” send me an ask! I love hearing from you guys—just please check these basics first.

Thank you for being here! Enjoy the polls.

Tournament schedule post-hiatus:

Now finished: Hot Men Tournament, Hot Women Tournament, Dracula Daily casting polls, the Hot Coupes Mini Tournament

Starting September 26th: Scrungly Little Guys contest (gender neutral)

TBD: Ultimate Hottie Tournament (top brackets of the hot men & hot women competing together)

TBD: Horror Hotties (Frankensteins, Draculas, Brides, etc.)

TBD: Dandy Detectives (Marples, Sherlocks, Nancy Drews, etc.)

Fun mini polls that pit sets of characters from the same movie together, like the Philadelphia Story or Seven Brides for Seven Brothers ones (these can be found in the #minis tag)

#housekeeping #scrungly little guys #hotvintagepoll #scrungly 6

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highinmiamiii · 10 months ago

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UH OH, WE’RE IN TROUBLE 18+

sub prison!butcher x jersey wife reader

(A/N) hellooo fellow butcher’s bitches! This chapter is part of the prison!butcher x jersey wife au @sickforbillybutcher/ @foxiewrites and i came up with. if you haven’t checked out the rest of this au i highly suggest you do, i’ve reblogged all parts under the tag:

#prison!billy butcher so you should be able to find them if you search that on my blog. enjoy reading love u all so much thank you sm for all your support on the last kessler fic 🥹

(cw: slightly sub butcher, violence, mention of severe injury, prison/hospital setting, teasing, handjob, sneaky/risky sexual activities, pregnancy, i think that’s it)

Billy Butcher stood in the dim, cold corner of the prison yard, the relentless hum of the razor wire above adding to the tension. His knuckles tightened as he slipped a few crumpled bills into the waiting hand of a massive, tattooed inmate.

“Make it bloody,” Billy growled, his eyes hard as steel. “Like I got in over me head.”

The brute nodded, a cruel grin spreading across his face as he pocketed the cash. “Got it, Butcher.”

Billy turned, bracing himself for the pain that was about to come. He’d taken worse beatings, no doubt, but this one had a purpose—one that made every bruise and broken bone worth it. The thought of seeing Dollface, even if it meant being shackled to a hospital bed, made his heart pound in a way that surprised him.

He gritted his teeth as the first punch landed squarely on his jaw, the taste of blood filling his mouth instantly. The second and third punches came quick, his ribs cracking under the force. Billy staggered, but stayed upright, spitting blood onto the cold concrete.

He wasn’t thinking about the pain or the grunts of the other inmates watching the spectacle. His mind was on Dollface. On the way she’d looked the last time he saw her, all cheetah print and big hair, with that fiery Jersey attitude he couldn’t get enough of.

The thought of her carrying his child—a bloody nugget, of all things—was a mix of pride and terror that he couldn’t shake. He’d never imagined himself as a father, especially not in a place like this. His own father was a right bastard, and the idea that he could turn out the same kept him awake at night more than the guards’ shouts or the clanging of cell doors.

The final blow sent him to the ground, gasping for breath, his vision blurry. The brute stepped back, admiring his handiwork as the guards rushed in, yelling and pushing the crowd back.

Billy smirked through the pain, coughing up more blood as they cuffed him. “Bloody hell… ’bout time,” he muttered, just loud enough for the nearest guard to hear.

The hospital was a grim, sterile place, but it was better than the cell, he thought as they wheeled him into the small, dimly lit room.

Dollface’s hands shook as she clutched her phone, the guard’s gruff voice still echoing in her ears. “Your husband’s been hurt—he’s in the hospital.” The words sliced through her like a knife. The second she hung up, she was out the door, nearly knocking over a potted plant in her rush. Her heart pounded as she navigated the chaotic streets of Jersey, each red light and slow driver adding to her panic.

By the time she arrived at the hospital, her hands were sweating, and her throat was dry. She shoved past the automatic doors, her designer leather cheetah-print bag swinging wildly at her side as she made a beeline for the front desk.

“Billy Butcher, I’m his wife” she gasped, barely able to catch her breath. “Where the hell is he?”

The nurse looked up, startled by the sudden appearance of a frantic, visibly distressed woman, and quickly typed into her computer. “He’s in room 306. But ma’am, I have to—”

Dollface didn’t wait for the nurse to finish. She bolted down the hall, the sterile smell of antiseptic and the flickering fluorescent lights doing nothing to calm her nerves. She could feel her heart in her throat, pounding so hard she thought it might burst.

Finally, she reached his room. Her hands were trembling as she pushed the door open, her eyes immediately locking onto Billy, lying in the hospital bed, bruised and battered but somehow still managing to smirk at her like he hadn’t just scared her half to death.

“Jesus Christ, Billy,” she breathed, rushing to his side. Her eyes were wide with fear, and she hesitated for a moment before gently touching his bruised face. “What the hell happened to ya?”

Billy grunted, shifting slightly under the weight of the shackles that bound him to the bed. “Ah, you know, love. Got into a bit of a scrap, that’s all.”

“Scrap?” she echoed, her voice cracking as she took in the cuts and bruises marring his skin. “You look like you got run over by a fucking truck—“

He chuckled, wincing slightly as the movement sent a jolt of pain through his ribs. “Don’t worry ’bout me, Trouble. Just shattered me collarbone and fractured me clavicle, should be fine. Takes more than a few punches to put me down.”

Dollface shook her head, her worry deepening as she sat down beside him, her fingers curling around his hand. “FRACTU— are you kidding me?!? I swear to god if you don’t get yourself killed i’ll do it myself—“ She hics out a broken sob, covering her mouth and looking away trying to cool her temper. “T-this isn’t funny, Billy. I was so terrified when they called. Thought I was gonna lose ya.”

He squeezed her hand, his rough fingers brushing against her soft skin. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere, love. Not when I’ve got you and the little one waitin’ for me.”

At that, her eyes welled up with more tears, but she blinked them away, determined not to let him see her cry. She reached up, clutching the gold cross around her neck and kissing it softly before leaning down to press it to his forehead. “You better not. You’re stuck with us now.”

Billy’s gaze softened as he watched her, the fierce determination in her eyes reminding him why he was doing this—why he had put himself through this pain. He needed to see her, to touch her, to remind himself that there was something worth fighting for outside of those cold, grey walls.

For a few moments, they just sat there, her hand in his, the room filled with a quiet understanding between them. He could see the toll this was taking on her, the constant worry, the stress of being pregnant while her husband was locked up in a place like that.

He swallowed hard, the usual bravado slipping as he looked up at her. “I’m sorry, Dollface. For puttin’ ya through all this shite.”

She shook her head again, squeezing his hand even tighter. “Don’t apologize, Billy. Just… just promise me you’ll be careful. I can’t do this without ya.”

He nodded, his eyes locking onto hers. “I promise, love. I’ll be more careful. For you… and for” He takes a deep breath and glances down at her increasingly by the day pudgy, slightly round tummy. His eyes light up and he smirks before looking back up into her eyes.

Dollface’s lips quivered into a small smile, and she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “We’re gonna get through this, Billy. No matter what.”

He returned the kiss, lingering just a moment longer, as if trying to memorize the feel of her, the taste of her, before they had to part again. “Damn right we will.”

She rested her forehead against his, her free hand coming up to gently stroke his cheek. “I love ya, you stubborn bastard.”

“Love ya too, Dollface,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

They stayed like that for a while, her sitting by his side, caressing his hand and occasionally kissing his calloused, bruised, bloodying knuckles. She whispered reassurances to him, telling him about how Nonna couldn’t wait to meet her great-grandchild, how she’d already started knitting baby clothes even though they didn’t know the gender yet.

Billy listened, a small smile playing on his lips as he let her words wash over him, grounding him in a way that nothing else could. It didn’t matter that he was in chains or that the world outside this room was a mess. All that mattered was that she was here, with him, and that soon enough, they’d have a little shite of their own to look after.

And for now, that was enough.

The hospital room was bathed in the soft, eerie glow of the moonlight streaming through the small window, casting long shadows on the floor. It had been hours since the last nurse had come in, and the clock on the wall ticked quietly, marking the passage of time. Dollface had been biding her time, heart pounding as she listened for the telltale sounds of the guard’s footsteps echoing down the hall.

She’d crafted a plan—risky, sure, but worth it. When one of the officers had stepped out earlier in the evening, she’d quickly slipped into the small utility closet in Billy’s room, holding her breath as she crouched in the dark, hidden among the brooms and cleaning supplies. She waited, every creak of the floorboards outside sending her heart racing, but she stayed quiet, biding her time until the hospital settled into the stillness of night.

Now, as she cautiously cracked open the closet door, her eyes locked onto Billy’s figure, still lying in the bed, his chest rising and falling slowly. She moved silently, her heart in her throat, every nerve on edge as she slipped out of the closet and crossed the room. She knew there were at least two guards outside, but she was banking on the fact that they wouldn’t expect anyone to pull something like this.

Billy stirred slightly as she approached, his eyes fluttering open. The moment he saw her, a slow, mischievous grin spread across his face. “What’re you up to now, Trouble?” he whispered, his voice low and gravelly.

She held a finger to her lips, silently telling him to be quiet as she reached his side. “Couldn’t leave ya all alone in this shithole, could I?” she whispered back, her voice barely above a breath. She slid her hand under the blanket, finding his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Billy’s eyes darkened with a mixture of amusement and something else, something that made Dollface’s pulse quicken. “Ya know there’s guards right outside, yeah?” he murmured, his voice hushed but tinged with that familiar teasing edge.

She smirked, her fingers brushing up along his arm, over the muscles that tensed beneath her touch. “That ever stopped me before?” she whispered, leaning in closer, her breath warm against his ear. “Thought ya knew me better than that, Billy.”

His breath hitched slightly as her hand trailed up, slipping under the blanket and higher up his thigh. He shifted slightly, the chains clinking softly, his body instinctively responding to her touch despite the circumstances. “Fuuuckin’ gonna be the death of me, Dollface,” he muttered, though the smirk on his lips told her he didn’t mind one bit.

Dollface chuckled softly, her hand continuing its slow, deliberate journey, teasing him just enough to drive him mad without giving him what he wanted. “Maybe,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his neck. “But at least you’ll go out with a smile on your face, yeah?”

Billy’s eyes closed for a moment, his breath coming in shallow as she continued to tease him, her fingers dancing along his skin, sending shivers down his spine. “Always playin’ so damn dangerous—” he warned, though his voice was rougher now, tinged with anticipation.

Dollface pulled back slightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looked down at him. “You know I like to live dangerously,” she replied, her voice low and seductive. She leaned in, her lips barely brushing against his, teasing him further. “Why do you think I married you?”

He growled softly, his free hand coming up to cup the back of her neck, pulling her in closer. “Damn right ya do” he whispered, his lips hovering just inches from hers.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. Dollface could feel the heat of his body through the thin hospital blanket, the anticipation coiling in her stomach like a spring ready to snap.

She licked her lips, her hand slipping further up his thigh, her touch light and teasing, drawing a low groan from Billy’s throat. “You just gonna lie there all night? Or are ya gonna let your wife make you feel good? What other chance do you have?” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath against his lips.

Billy’s eyes flashed with dark desire, his grip tightening on her as he pulled her in, his lips capturing hers in a fierce, hungry kiss that sent a jolt of electricity through her entire body. Dollface moaned softly into his mouth, her hand moving higher under the blanket, earning another low, rumbling growl from deep in his chest.

As they kissed, Dollface could feel the heat between them building, her body responding to him in ways that made her feel alive, reckless, and completely out of control. She broke the kiss just long enough to murmur, “You sure you can handle this, Butchie? I swear to god- the officers are right outside, you don’t make a fucking sound, you hear me?” She whispers

Billy smirked against her lips, his voice rough with desire as he replied, “Oh, I’m bloody well countin’ on it, love.”

A smirk spreads across her face, she palms him over the papery fabric of the hospital gown before letting her hand under it, only lingering on his upper thick muscular thigh. His breath trembles, it’s been way too fucking long.

Way too fucking long since he’d felt her nimble, skilled, manicured fingers wrapped around his thick cock, working him up and down til he spurted rope after rope of his warm white seed onto his taught stomach, getting all over her hands.

He missed everything about this, about you. His big clumsy hands would never ever measure up to how your hands feel pumping him up and down. So as her hand made it’s way higher and higher up his thigh, she finally wrapped your fingers around him.

She lets out a chuckle as you feel how fucking hard he is. She’d barely just gotten her fist around it and it was already throbbing desperately, you swipe your thumb over the head of his tip wiping up the small little white bead of precum

She bite your lip, giggling “Someone’s already excited, hm?”

Butcher’s throat makes a tiny little high pitched whine, his breath catching at the teasing swipe of her thumb over his tip. He digs his teeth into his bottom lip, muffling himself from making any further noise “Fuuuckin’ christ onna stick, luv—“

He whispers. She chuckles, her other hand reaching up to clasp over his mouth.

She squeezes her fist around his cock tighter now, slowly beginning to flick her wrist up and down. Butcher huffs out a breath, head lolling to the side to look at you as he scrunches his eyes closed. your hand works quicker on his hard, wet cock, urging him closer and closer to his release. you watch as Butch opens his mouth slightly, eyebrows furrowing as he lets out a puff of air while trying to conceal his noises. he looked so pretty like that, sweat gathering on his forehead as he continues to let moans pour from his lips.

He never let it go like this before, he was always in control, something about having him get like this for you got you going.

“mmh, that feel good?” you ask, tilting your head as you stay seated next to him by the bed. he licks his lips, eyes hooded as they slowly open before fluttering back closed as you press your thumb harder against his tip. “come on, answer me, handsome.”

he groans, biting his lower lip so hard it starts to become sore, drawing a little bit of blood. he can taste it in his mouth, making him let out a soft whimper that travels through the air. and he hopes you didn’t hear it, but you definitely did judging by the smirk on your face as you work your hand faster, also basically slapping your palm over his mouth trying to get him to shut the fuck up. as much as you wanted to hear him whimper like that for you again, now was not the time or place. he slightly bucks his hips up, gasping when you flick your wrist and add wonderful pressure to his tip that causes him to become weak in your hands.

“i asked you a question,” you use your other hand that wasn’t on his cock to grip his chin, a stern expression on your face.

he gasps, “yes, fuck yes trouble— feels so .. s-so good.” his voice becomes deeper, trailing away from him the more he talks as his words fade into nothing but muffled moans underneath your palm. he looks so fucking pretty like that, too. his hair was becoming matted, sticking to his forehead as sweat covered him all over. he was glistening, beautiful under the soft moonlight showing through the window.

you tilt your head, your hand clasped over his mouth like that, looking at his lips as he licks them, “Missed my hands, Butchie?” he stutters at the nickname, groaning as he presses his heels into the mattress and thrashes beside you. the cocky look in your eyes makes him whine again. “so desperate for me,” you click your tongue at him.

Butcher swears he’s never felt so damn good before. he wasn’t used to you being so demanding and dominate. it was making him lose his mind, unable to stop the bucking of his hips as he uncontrollably starts basically fucking your hand.

you raise an eyebrow, “wanna fuck my hand, hm? come on, baby.” you kiss his neck, trailing your kisses there before leaving a bruise on his collarbone, smiling at your work. “fuck my hand, since ya can’t have my pussy, fuck it like it is my pussy” She bites her lip tightly, god how she wanted to say fuck all this and hop on top of him, ride him until the sun rose. but that was too complicated, too much of a liability.

he gasps, and his hands tug desperately at the sheets below him, “c-close.. fucking bollocks— I’m gonna blow Doll—” his voice becomes a little more high pitched, but it sends a rush down to your abdomen and makes you clench your thighs together. Butcher doesn’t see it, though. too focused on his needed high.

you tighten your grip on his cock, making him spiral and you watch as his knuckles turn white while he humps up into your grip, “gonna cum, baby? come on, you can cum, Butchie. make a mess all over your pretty tummy and my hand.”

“cumming, i’m.. fucking cumming,” he groans, a long drawn out moan of your name leaving his lips, even if it’s barely heard by the tight grip of your hand over his mouth as he releases all over himself, his hips stuttering and slowing down. you grip him tightly, watching as his cum flows over your hand too. you smile to yourself, seeing his head thrown back and his eyes shut closed. you bring your cum covered hand to your lips, running a finger across your plump red painted lips. he hums, opening his eyes as you take your fingers into your mouth and licking them dry. you lick your lips, leaning in for a kiss. he easily accepts you, one of his hands reaching for the back of your neck and deepening the kiss. you can taste his cum, slightly bitter, but you don’t mind. not for as long as it’s him. the kiss was messy, all over the place, but you loved it anyway.

when you pull away, he’s gasping for air and looking at you with hooded eyes, “i fuckin’ love you sweetheart”

you chuckle, “i love you, too, Butch”

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lendeah · 1 year ago

Text

Happy Memories

Also on AO3

Summary: Based on this line from the epilogue- One night he tells you that these six months of happy memories are the counterweight to two hundred years of misery.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader.

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags: Fluff and Smut, 6 months post-finale, Lovemaking, Domestic Fluff, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Love Confessions, it's so soft really, Soft Astarion, they have just been through so much, Tooth-Rotting Fluff.

WARNING: +18, minors DNI

The past few months had been a trying time, both of you struggling to come to terms with the events that had transpired. The weight of it all hung heavy in the air, leaving you to navigate through nightmares and Astarion's bouts of dissociation. Yet, somehow, you were making progress. Together.

You had taken it upon yourself to find a cure for Astarion's condition, a challenging task made even more difficult by his returned aversion to sunlight. But it gave you both a purpose, something to look forward to - a brighter tomorrow. The greatest source of joy in your present life was the simple act of lying down next to him every night, enveloped in each other's arms with the comforting knowledge that tomorrow you would once again wake up without the constant fear of losing him.

Together, you had found solace in a serene cottage by Riverbend, settling into a comfortable routine. You delighted in gardening and cooking, while he took care of household chores and lovingly mended and sewed your clothes. On lazy afternoons, you would paint alongside him as he engrossed himself in endless books. It was pure bliss, and you were content with your perfectly imperfect life together.

As the two of you prepared for bed, Astarion wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. In the past, such an intimate gesture would have caught you off guard, but he has since learned to let his guard down and embrace moments of tenderness. Though he still struggles at times, he relishes in this display of affection.

"Everything alright, my love?" you asked, resting your head against his.

Astarion's arms tightened around you as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. "Alright would be an understatement," he murmured, his voice low and warm against your skin. "I am absolutely enchanted, my dear."

You turned around in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I'm glad to hear that, because I am enchanted too," you said softly.

Astarion leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a delicate kiss. You hummed against his mouth, savoring the familiar feeling of his soft lips moving against yours. He pulled back slightly, forehead resting against yours as he whispered, "I have something I want to show you."

Curiosity sparked within you, but you simply nodded and followed him as he led you outside. The moon was high in the sky, casting its soft glow over everything. Astarion took your hand and led you toward the nearby meadow. And that's when you see it: he has prepared the scenery around to look like the one from the first night you shared together, back at the Grove.

"What is this?" You say, with a huge grin decorating your face.

Astarion's crimson eyes shone with excitement as he turned to you. "This, my love, is a recreation of the night we first shared at the Grove," he said proudly.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you took in the scene before you. The soft grass beneath your feet, the gentle rustling of trees in the distance, and a small basket filled with wine and various snacks, right next to a small blanket.

"I thought we could relive that enchanted evening, but this time we'll make it truly unforgettable." His fingers caressed your cheek, gently wiping away a stray tear, as he added with a cheeky smile, "Because let's be honest, the first time was... underwhelming."

You smiled at him, grateful beyond words for his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, my love, this is incredible," you said, your voice thick with emotion.

Astarion's smile widened and he pulled you into a tight embrace. "Anything for you," he whispered into your ear.

You stayed wrapped in each other's arms for a while, just enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. Eventually, Astarion led you over to the basket and poured some wine for both of you. As the night went on, the two of you talked and laughed, reminiscing about your early days together and all the adventures you had been on since then. And with each passing moment, it felt as if the world had paused just for the two of you, as if all the events of the previous months were leading up to this one perfect moment.

As midnight approached, Astarion stood and held out his hand. "Shall we dance under the moonlight?" he asked with a playful glint in his eyes.

You raised a teasing eyebrow, "Has the spirit of Wyll possessed you?"

Astarion chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, my dear, you wound me! I assure you, this idea is entirely my own. Besides, who needs Wyll's spirit when I have enough charisma to ignite the heavens themselves?" He flourished a grand gesture, pretending to adjust an imaginary top hat atop his head.

You couldn't help but giggle at his theatrics. "How could I resist such an offer from the ever-enchanting Astarion?" you teased, accepting his outstretched hand.

He pulled you close, his hand resting firmly on the small of your back as he led you in a slow and graceful waltz beneath the soft glow of the moon. The world around you seemed to fade away as you slowly swayed in each other's arms.

"I don't remember this happening on our first night," you murmured against his ear, remembering how different that moment had been compared to this one.

A low, seductive chuckle escaped Astarion's lips as they brushed against your skin. "And pray tell, darling, what do you recall?"

"I remember you trying to seduce me and then almost draining me dry," you teased, a mischievous glint in your eye.

Astarion let out a dramatic gasp. "Such slander! I would never do such a thing!" He pressed his hand to his chest in mock offense.

You both laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet night. It was a stark contrast to the fake seducing words and lack of feelings of that first night. Now, he was completely at ease, his true self shining through without any pretense or hunger clouding his mind.

"But it was still special," Astarion whispered, stopping the dance to pull you closer to him. "It's what brought us to be here now, and I wouldn't trade that for anything."

You smiled up at him, your heart fluttering at his words, as you leaned in to kiss him. It was a gentle and sweet kiss at first but soon turned more passionate as Astarion deepened it. His hands grabbed your thighs and picked you up to press you up against a nearby tree, lips trailing down your neck.

"This is bringing back memories," You say breathlessly.

You could feel him smirk against your skin "Do you really think so? Perhaps I should refresh them even more."

His declaration sent a wave of warmth through your body and you leaned in to kiss him again, eager to lose yourself in the moment. His hands were now unbuttoning your shirt and you gasped as they reached your bare skin. You looked at his hooded eyes, and with a playful smile, offered your neck to him.

However, Astarion pulled away slightly and looked into your eyes, with something like doubt swimming in them. "I want this to be real," he said earnestly. "Not like last time."

You nodded in understanding and smiled softly at him. "It already is," you reassured him, cupping his cheek with your hand.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he leaned in to kiss you again, but this time it was slow and tender – an exchange of affection rather than something laced with hunger or deception. Astarion picked you up again and gently set you down on the soft blanket that he had laid out earlier. He leaned in to kiss you once more, his body hovering over yours.

As you entwined your fingers in his soft, white locks, you pulled him towards you, deepening the kiss. His hands explored every curve and dip of your body, sending pleasurable shivers down your spine with each touch.

As his lips trailed from yours, they left a tingling sensation in their wake. Your hands eagerly reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. Astarion's hungry gaze followed every movement as you unbuttoned your jeans and let them fall to the ground. With a grin, he helped you out of your remaining clothes before stepping back to fully appreciate your naked form glistening under the moonlight. His eyes traced every curve and dip of your body before meeting your gaze once again, a hunger evident in his expression.

"You are breathtaking," he murmured, and then pulled you into another passionate kiss. Your fingers traced the lines of his bare chest, feeling the softness of his skin. You tugged at his shirt, silently urging him to remove it, and he obliged with a sly smile. His pants soon followed, revealing the chiseled contours of his body. Your hands traced over every ridge and dip of his body, feeling the coolness of his skin against your fingertips.

"I want you to bite me," you whispered urgently.

Astarion leaned down to press his lips against the nape of your neck, making you gasp and arch into him as he traced his fangs along your pulse point. Your skin tingled with excitement as his hands eagerly explored your body before gripping your hips, sending shivers of desire through you.

"Tell me if it becomes too much," he whispered against your skin before sinking his teeth into your neck gently.

You gasped at the sensation – a mix of pleasure and pain that sent sparks flying through your body. Astarion's grip on your hips tightened as he drank from you, his other hand reaching up to cup one of your breasts. You moaned as he continued to drink from you, feeling the pleasure building up inside of you.

After a few minutes, Astarion pulled away and licked the wound on your neck before kissing it gently. His red eyes met yours and they were glowing with a mix of emotions – desire, love, and something else that you couldn't quite pinpoint.

"I'll never grow weary of that," he murmurs, before leaning in for another kiss. Astarion's lips trailed down your neck and onto your chest, leaving a trail of kisses as he made his way towards your breasts, taking a nipple between his lips. Every touch of his tongue sent sparks of pleasure through your body and you arched your back in response.

"Astarion..." you panted.

The sound of his name on your lips only spurred him on, and he began to suckle harder, moving to tease the other nipple with his fingers. His hand moved from your breast to between your legs, and you gasped as his fingers found your wetness. He slipped his fingers between your soaking folds, skillfully rubbing and circling your clit. The combination of his mouth and fingers sent waves of pleasure through you, making you whimper and writhe beneath him.

"Please," you whimpered, unable to hold back any longer.

Astarion smirked against your skin before moving down your body, his lips leaving a trail of kisses until he reached the apex of your thighs. He looked up at you with hunger in his eyes before diving in with his tongue, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

His tongue flicked against your clit, sending waves of ecstasy through your body. You tangled your fingers in his hair, urging him on as he continued to please you.

"Astarion...oh gods..." you cried out, your voice thick with need. His fingers thrusted into you relentlessly, syncing perfectly with the skilled movements of his tongue on your swollen clit. Your body arched and trembled with each wave of pleasure, every muscle tensed in anticipation.

"Inside...now..." you begged, unable to find the words to express the ache for him to fill you completely.

Astarion looked up at you from between your legs, his eyes filled with lust and desire, "Whatever you wish, dearest."

With a swift movement, he withdrew his fingers from your slick entrance and aligned himself at your dripping core. He pushed in slowly, savoring the tightness and heat engulfing him. A moan escaped your lips as you were filled to the hilt, waves of pleasure washing over you. Your bodies melted together, panting and trembling with pleasure. He then leaned in close, and gently rested his forehead against yours, breaths mingling as you held each other.

"I never envisioned discovering someone like you," Astarion said softly, "You have made these six months of happy memories counterweight two hundred years of misery."

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes at his words. The weight of his words, the realization that you have brought true joy to someone who has known nothing but misery, crushes you in the most beautiful way.

"I...I love you," you managed to choke out, your heart overflowing with emotion as you reached up to touch his face, tracing the lines of his cheekbone with trembling fingers. "More than anything."

Astarion's eyes softened at your words, a small smile tugging at his lips. He leaned down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss, pouring all of his emotions into it. You both stayed like that for a few moments, just lost in each other.

"I love you more than my own existence," he whispered against your lips, his voice raw with emotion. "You are my everything."

Without hesitation, he leaned down to capture your lips in a desperate kiss, and you savored the feeling of his lips against yours. Eventually, he starts slowly moving inside of you, each thrust calculated and precise as he intertwines his fingers with yours. You moaned and wrapped your legs around his waist, still lazily kissing him. Astarion continued to move inside of you with slow, deliberate strokes, making love to you in the most intimate way. Every movement is filled with intense desire and tenderness, eliciting uncontrollable moans of pleasure from your lips.

"You feel so good," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with adoration.

Your legs wrapped around his toned waist, your fingers tightly gripping his as he moved inside you. Each thrust was met with a moan from your lips, the heat and friction between your bodies igniting a passionate fire within you. He held you close, his lips eagerly finding yours in between each deepening thrust. The intensity and intimacy of the moment had you lost in a sea of pleasure, feeling every inch of him as he poured his love into every movement. Your body trembled as you neared your climax, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation any longer. Sensing this, he shifted his hand between your bodies, his fingers finding their way to your clit once again.

"Oh gods," you cried out as the pleasure intensified. Your body trembled and your breath quickened as Astarion's fingers moved expertly over your skin. You dug your nails into his back, desperately trying to hold on as he brought you closer to the edge.

"I'm close," Astarion grunted, his own body trembling with need.

"I am too," you whimpered.

Astarion's movements became faster and more urgent, his own moans mixing with yours in the stillness of the night.

"Look at me when you come," he demanded, and you obeyed.

Your eyes locked with Astarion's, the intensity of his gaze sending chills down your spine. As you reached the peak of pleasure, your body trembled and your walls pulsed around him. You couldn't hold back any longer and cried out his name, drowning in waves of pure ecstasy, and Astarion followed suit with a guttural moan. As you both lay there, breathless and entwined, every cell in your body buzzed with contentment and fulfillment.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice raw with emotion.

"I love you too," Astarion replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead before rolling off of you and pulling you close to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling content and complete in his arms.

You both lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking, until eventually, Astarion spoke up.

"Even if we don't find the cure, being here with you is enough," he said softly, his voice filled with emotion. He paused for a moment, his eyes on yours, searching for the right words. "This is all I ever wanted," he says softly, placing his hand on your cheek.

You looked up at him, a small smile on your lips as you traced your fingers along his chest.

"I feel the same way," you replied, resting your head back on his chest. "But we can't give up hope just yet."

Astarion nodded, his arms tightening around you. "We won't" Astarion replies. He pulls you in close to him, squeezing you tightly. "We'll find the cure. I know we will." A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "And I will spend the rest of eternity making it up to you."

#astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #astarion baldurs gate #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic

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ppumeonae-bigvibe · 1 year ago

Text

cherry on top

↖ navigation: seventeen masterlist || main masterlist

pairing: bf! seventeen ot13 x gn! reader

↬ tags: established relationship? yes!, kissing mentioned (hehe!), quite wholesome, my list my rules!, reader uses lipsticks (not implied, but a regular user of lipsticks/ tints/ gloss)

summary: seventeen buying reader lipstick!

𐙚 those who know which color suits you, even your favorite types 𐙚

ᯓ★ seungcheol, jeonghan, mingyu, myungho

the sister-havers are understandable: they have sisters for siblings so they would know a thing or two (before you jump at me, yes i do know vernon and seungkwan have sisters so hear me out); and whereas for minghao? i'm so sure my man is born a fashionista so makeup would be easy for him; and for seungcheol i think that clip of him explaining the different perfumes/ cologne is enough for me to put him here

you don't have to tell them: they would be able to pick a similar or the exact shade right off the bat just by looking at your lips; call it unexplained hidden knack or that special eye for choosing makeup products

purposely (sneakily) grabs you by the chin to kiss you full on the lips just to see how good the product works; love love loves to watch you put on makeup and would gaze at you as you went about your business

bonus if they know color theory, or suggest different shades they think might look good on you (and i'm certain it will)

"you like it?" you swiped a sheen layer of gloss on your lips, before turning to your smitten boyfriend for approval. he does a once over, smile widening at the sight of you. he pulls you in by the waist lovingly, "i like that very much. now, give me a kiss!"

"no! you're gonna ruin it!" he rolls his eyes, "i'll buy you another." he knows you couldn't resist, so before you open your mouth to retort, he yanks you towards him and captures your lips. "i'll buy you as many as you want, so long you keep letting me do this."

----

𐙚 those who has some clue and tries to buy something you like 𐙚

ᯓ★ joshua, soonyoung, jihoon, vernon, seungkwan

i know vernon has a younger sister and kwanie has sisters, but hear me out: i don't think they are that interested in makeup products at all hence they are here; for joshua because he is such a gentleman he would take pictures of your lipsticks to know which ones to get, similar for hosh and wooz i think they would make sure you're physically with them so they don't get the wrong ones

because they aren't sure of the exact type/ shade/ tint, he would make the effort to know your favorite brands and colors at least so that he could go get them when he goes out shopping for your gifts <3 !! he wants to surprise you too, and might throw in other skincare products they are more confident in getting

call it algorithm influencing, but he sometimes sees the targeted ads on your phone and makes a mental note to ask you about it

very much prefers you in your natural state, but loves it when you doll up for them/ yourself because you are beautiful in their eyes (have you seen them barefaced wts!!)

"you like this one?" he leans over, his taller frame standing out painfully in the makeup section. you nod your head, "yeah? looks good doesn't it?" you swatch another color on the back of his hands and he observes closely, "this one has sparkles in it, but it's a lot more lighter than the other other one."

"i can't decide which one to get though." you frowned the back of his hands are littered with various shades, matching yours. he shakes his head, sporting a silly grin, "it's okay! we can browse longer. let's get something you really like."

----

𐙚 those who don't know, but buys something anyways 𐙚:

ᯓ★ junhwi, wonwoo, seokmin, chan

dedicated to the brother-havers and single children: i feel that these bunch of people are the group of people who don't know much about makeup and are perhaps less interested in it as you are; might even be clueless about it

they seem like the type to ask many questions about why some products are matte or glossy or why are they so liquid-y or why has there got to be many shades (in the sweetest and non-annoying way)

very green forest behavior when they know not to mess with your makeup products and to keep them stored away neatly

call it algorithm influencing, but when he spots some makeup brand promoting items, he'd come and ask for your opinion (so that he could take you out and buy it for you uwu)

unexpectedly i think somewhat related to makeup, wonwoo or dino feels like the type to enjoy doing facials with you

"i'm not sure if you like this, but i overheard you telling your friends you were running out. thought this might make your day." his heart was beating out of his chest, but he plays it cool by gifting you a small bag. you excitedly take it from him, and he relishes in the way your eyes practically light up. looks like he bought the right one.

"oh baby, thank you!" you hug him tight and he reciprocates the gesture, an affectionate beam all over his face. "it's the one i told you about! no way! you got it!" he exhales dramatically, "anything for you my love."

@ppumeonae-bigvibe 's work ; likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

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lightdancingwords · 6 months ago

Text

Crossroads of the Heart - Part Two of ?

Pairings: CJ Braxton x Y/N Female reader

Series Summary: Y/N is a psychology major assigned to shadow CJ at The Stand, unaware he's the one who basically saved her life four years before. CJ is unaware that she's the one who left a notable impact on him over the phone four years ago. As they navigate the work at The Stand, they develop a spark that demands revelation and connection.

Word Count: 2,164

Tags/Warnings: none really, though depression and alcoholism is mentioned.

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Evidently my muse won't shut up, so here we go! A new story in a new setting! I hope you all enjoy!

Dividers: credit to @saradika-graphics

Chapter Two: Introduction Part Deux

The Stand had the comforting hum of a place where lives were being quietly rebuilt. CJ stood at the front desk, scanning a list of volunteer and paid staff schedules and jotting notes in the margins. His sharp eyes took in the space around him—the posters on the walls, the bookshelf stacked with self-help guides, and the donation jar that always seemed to fill up faster than he expected. Every detail mattered to him. They were proof of how far this place had come.

The door opened with a gentle creak, and CJ instinctively looked up. A young woman stepped in, clutching a notebook against her chest. Her soft features and calm demeanor caught his attention immediately, though it was the way her eyes lingered on the room—taking in every detail like it mattered—that made him straighten.

“Hi,” she said, her voice smooth and warm, like the first notes of a melody. “I’m Y/N. I’m here to start my practicum.”

CJ set down his pen and stepped forward, offering a hand. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Welcome to The Stand. I’m CJ, the manager.”

She shook his hand with surprising firmness, though her gentle smile softened the gesture. “Thank you. It’s a privilege to be here. I’ve wanted to work with The Stand for a long time.”

Her words made CJ pause. He searched her face for a hint of familiarity, wondering if their paths had crossed before, but nothing clicked. “That’s good to hear,” he said, his curiosity piqued. “What drew you to us?”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers brushing against the edge of her notebook. “I’ve always believed in what you’re doing here,” she said carefully. “The idea that a single conversation could change someone’s life... it’s powerful. I wanted to be part of that.”

CJ nodded, his expression softening. He could see the sincerity in her eyes, the kind that couldn’t be faked. “That’s exactly what we try to do here,” he said. “It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it.”

“It must be,” she said, her voice laced with quiet admiration. “You’ve built something incredible.”

CJ chuckled, leaning against the counter. “It’s not just me. This place has been around for years. I just took the reins a while back and tried not to screw it up too much.”

She tilted her head, curious. “How did you end up here? I mean, running the place?”

The question hit a familiar nerve, one CJ had learned to navigate over the years. He looked down briefly, then met her gaze. “Honestly? I was a mess as a teenager. Alcoholism, depression... you name it. I hit rock bottom more times than I care to admit. The Stand was where I turned things around. I started as a volunteer, and it gave me a sense of purpose I didn’t think I’d ever find. When the opportunity came to manage it, I knew I couldn’t pass it up.”

Y/N’s expression softened, her eyes filled with an understanding that made CJ feel unexpectedly seen. “That’s... inspiring,” she said. “Not many people turn their lives around like that, let alone use their experience to help others.”

“It’s not always as noble as it sounds,” CJ admitted with a wry smile. “Some days it’s just about making it to the next one. But yeah, I guess I wanted to be the person I needed back then.”

“That’s a pretty noble goal to me,” Y/N said softly, the corners of her lips curling up in a smile.

CJ cleared his throat, feeling the weight of her gaze. “Well, enough about me. Let me show you around. You’ll get to know the team and see how we do things here.”

“I’d like that,” Y/N replied, her notebook now hanging loosely at her side as she followed him deeper into the space.

As they walked, Y/N asked thoughtful questions, her curiosity evident. “Do you ever wonder about the people you’ve helped? What happened to them?”

“All the time,” CJ admitted. “We don’t always get closure. Sometimes you just have to trust that you made a difference, even if you never see the results.” He thought back to one phone call four years ago that left such an impression, he had never forgotten it. He still had that poem, framed at his desk.

“I think you do,” she said, her voice steady. “Make a difference, I mean.”

He glanced at her, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

They reached the lounge, where a few staff members were gathered, laughing over a shared joke. CJ gestured to the room. “This is where the magic happens. Well, most of it, anyway. The team’s great—you’ll fit right in.”

Y/N looked around, taking in the warmth of the space. “I hope so. I’m ready to learn.”

CJ nodded, watching her with a growing sense of respect. There was something about her presence that felt... significant. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he knew one thing: she was here for a reason. And whatever that reason was, he had a feeling it mattered more than either of them realized yet.

CJ led Y/N into the lounge, the hum of conversation and the clatter of coffee mugs greeting them. A handful of staff members sat around the mismatched furniture, a casual but lively energy filling the room. The group’s laughter paused as CJ cleared his throat.

“Alright, everyone,” CJ started, his voice carrying the easy authority of someone both respected and liked. “We’ve got a new practicum student joining us. Meet Y/N.”

The staff turned their attention to her, their faces warm and welcoming. Y/N offered a shy wave, clutching her notebook a little tighter.

“Hi, everyone. It’s nice to meet you,” she said, her voice gentle but clear.

CJ gestured toward a young man sprawled on the couch with a laptop balanced precariously on his knees. “That’s Miles. He’s one of our longest-serving staffers and our resident tech wizard. If anything breaks around here, he’s the one who makes sure it’s working again—usually after some colorful cursing.”

Miles grinned, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “What CJ means is, I’m the guy who holds this place together when he’s not looking. Welcome aboard, Y/N. Need any tech tips, I’m your guy.”

“Thanks, Miles,” Y/N replied, her smile widening.

Next, CJ nodded toward a woman in her late twenties, her dark curls pulled into a loose bun, a mug of tea in her hands. “This is Priya. She’s our counseling lead and one of the sharpest minds I’ve ever worked with. She runs the training sessions and keeps us all in line.”

Priya raised her mug in greeting, her eyes sparkling with kindness. “Welcome, Y/N. If you have any questions—or need to vent after a tough shift—I’m always around.”

Y/N nodded, her grip on her notebook relaxing slightly. “I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

“And over there,” CJ said, motioning toward a young woman seated cross-legged on the floor, a clipboard resting on her lap, “is Gabby. She’s newish, like you, but she’s already making waves.”

Gabby looked up, her ponytail swinging as she smiled brightly. “Only the good kind of waves, though. Nice to meet you, Y/N! You’ll love it here, I promise.”

“I can tell,” Y/N replied, her tone warm.

CJ let the group settle back into their conversation before turning back to Y/N. “They’ll all be part of your training in one way or another. You’ll shadow a few shifts with Priya and Gabby first to get a feel for how the calls are handled, then we’ll ease you into taking calls yourself. No pressure, though.”

Y/N nodded, her expression a mix of excitement and nerves. “Got it. I’m ready to learn.”

“Good,” CJ said, his voice softening. “We’re glad to have you here.”

He gestured toward an empty chair near the corner of the lounge. “For now, grab a seat and get to know everyone. I’ll grab the training manual and meet you back here in a bit.”

As CJ walked away, Y/N settled into the chair, feeling the hum of camaraderie around her. Miles leaned over from his spot on the couch, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“So, what’s in the notebook?” he asked with a playful grin. “Secret plans to overthrow CJ? Because if so, count me in.”

Y/N laughed, opening the notebook slightly to show pages filled with poems, notes, and inspirational quotes. “Nothing quite that dramatic. Just ideas and notes. I like keeping my thoughts organized.”

Gabby leaned over to peek as well. “Ooh, you write? That’s so cool! Maybe you can help come up with motivational posters to put around the place. We could use some new stuff!”

Y/N smiled, her nerves melting as the group pulled her into their easy rhythm. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

From the doorway, CJ watched for a moment, his hands in his pockets. Seeing Y/N laugh with the team filled him with a quiet satisfaction. He didn’t know what her full story was, but he had a feeling she’d bring something special to The Stand. And maybe, just maybe, she’d find something she was looking for here too.

After a moment, CJ returned to the lounge, a binder tucked under his arm and a clipboard in hand. He paused in the doorway, watching Y/N laugh at something Gabby had said. It was a good sign—she was settling in already.

“Alright, everyone,” CJ called out, stepping further into the room. “I need to steal Y/N for a bit.”

Y/N glanced up, gathering her notebook as she rose. She followed CJ back to the front desk, where he spread out a schedule and the training manual.

“So,” CJ began, tapping the clipboard with his pen, “here’s what your first week will look like. Tomorrow, you’ll start by sitting in with me during calls. You’ll listen, take notes, and get a feel for how we handle things. After that, we’ll pair you with Gabby or Priya for a couple of shadow shifts before easing you into taking calls yourself.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes scanning the schedule. “That sounds great. I like the idea of easing into it.”

“Good,” CJ said, giving her a small smile. “We don’t throw anyone into the deep end here. Everyone starts where you’re starting. It’s important to understand the flow and build confidence first.”

He flipped through the training manual, showing her the sections on call protocol and common scenarios. “This will be your homework for tonight. Don’t stress about memorizing everything, though. We’ll go over the key parts during training. After all, the manual is just a tool, not something we follow precisely. Every call will be different.”

Y/N flipped through the binder, her expression focused. “Thanks. I’ll make sure I’m ready.”

CJ set the clipboard down, leaning against the counter. “One more thing. Tomorrow, when you’re sitting in, don’t be afraid to ask questions. Even if it’s during a call, jot them down. We’ll go through everything after.”

“Got it,” she said, tucking the training manual under her arm. “I’ll be ready.”

CJ watched her for a moment, sensing her quiet determination. “You’re going to do fine here, Y/N. It’s normal to feel nervous, but I can already tell you’re the kind of person who’s going to make a real impact.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she smiled. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

He straightened, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Alright, I’ll let you go for now. Get settled, look over the manual, and I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”

“I’ll be here,” she said, her voice steady.

As she walked toward the door, CJ called after her, “Oh, and bring that notebook. You’ll want to keep it handy.”

She laughed softly, lifting the notebook in a mock salute before stepping out into the evening.

CJ watched the door swing shut behind her, a faint smile lingering on his face. He couldn��t quite explain it, but he had a feeling about Y/N. Tomorrow would be just the beginning, and he was curious to see how she’d grow into the role—and how her presence might shift the dynamic of The Stand in ways they couldn’t yet predict.

He sat back down, glanced at the poem he framed on his desk. The newspaper color yellowed from exposure to the light, but it was still readable. He’d made copies, even a digital copy, so he’d never lose it one way or another. He never forgot that call, never forgot the girl. He often thought of her, wondered if she was okay. If she was thriving.

He hoped, one day, she’d call again, if only to give them an update.

CJ fingered the frame, let out a sigh, and went back to work. The helpline couldn’t handle itself, after all.

Tag List: If you want to be added to CJ's stories, please let me know here or on my Tag List!

Like my CJ stories? Check out my Beau Arlen story and my Dean Winchester story!

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 1 year ago

Text

Sweet on You, Chapter 1

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Rating: M (Rating Subject to Change)

Story Summary: You had joined 'Sugar and Spice' in a desperate attempt to help your mother with her medical bills, so when an opportunity comes along to make a lot of money simply by spending time with a lonely attorney, you jump at the chance -- not expecting to fall for him in the process.

Tired of one-night-stands, Matt Murdock decides to sign up for a sugar daddy/sugar baby website, where he stumbles across your profile. However, despite making it clear that he only wants a platonic arrangement, Matt eventually finds himself falling for you.

Will the two of you be able to come to a permanent arrangement or will more than a contract be broken?

Warnings/Tags: Sugar Daddy!Matt Murdock, No Age Gap, Alternating PoV, No Use of Y/N

Word Count: ~1100

A/N: Thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged the teaser! A few notes before we dive in:

-- While Reader's age is not actually specified in this, it's stated several times that she's closer to Matt's age than most women on the 'Sugar and Spice' website.

-- Matt & Reader do not actually refer to each other as their sugar baby/sugar daddy (although for all intents and purposes, that's what they are).

-- Divider is by the insanely talented (and just as awesome IRL as she is on Tumblr) @theradioactivespidergwen!

-- This is rated M for now, however rating may possibly go up in later chapters. 😈

-- If you'd like to be added to the taglist or if I've tagged you by mistake, please let me know!

Tag List: @danzer8705 @capylore @shouldbestudying41 @atemydadforbreakfast

No, it's fine, Mom, I promise,” you said as you spoke to your mother over the phone. “It's not your fault you got laid off and lost your medical insurance right before you got sick.”

“It's not your responsibility to pay my medical bills, sweetheart,” your mother protested. “I'll come up with the money somehow.”

You shook your head even though you knew your mother couldn't see you. “You’ve sacrificed so much for me, Mom. Let me do this for you.”

Your mother sighed. “Okay, fine. But only because you just got that big raise at work.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly. “Uh, yeah. Lucky me. Listen, Mom, I have to go, but I'll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. Love you, sweetie.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

You hung up and blew out a breath. You knew your mother wouldn't approve if you told her the real way you had been affording to make payments towards her medical debt for the past several months.

The truth was that your job as an administrative assistant barely even covered your own bills, so you had been supplementing your income through alternative means.

You had joined Sugar and Spice after one of the junior admin assistants had confided in you that she had managed to put herself through college by dating rich older men for money. “It's actually not a bad gig,” she had told you. “Most of them really just want arm candy to show off to their friends.”

You had gone home that night and checked out the website, and after discovering that you could select your comfort level/how far you were willing to go (by indicating that you were into either ‘sugar’ or ‘spice’) you had signed up.

It had been working out okay -- you had only been making a few hundred dollars extra a month so far because most of the men on Sugar and Spice wanted someone much younger than you were, but you had at least been able to scrape together enough to make the monthly payments on your mother's medical bills.

And speaking of…

You grabbed your laptop and pulled it over to you, then navigated to your Sugar and Spice account, pleased when you saw that you had gotten a new inquiry.

You clicked on it.

Hi, the message read, I ran across your profile and I think you might be what I'm looking for. If you're interested and available please message me back at your earliest convenience. Thank you.

You huffed out a laugh. Usually the messages you received weren't quite so… polite, so to speak.

You clicked on the sender's profile.

Matthew, 35

Occupation: Attorney

Interested in: Sugar

Huh. Matthew was a lot younger than most of the men who frequented the site. Maybe that'll be a good thing.

You clicked the reply button. Hi, Matthew, you typed. I am available if you'd like to discuss things further.

You got up to fix yourself some tea, and by the time you came back you had another message from Matthew. Great! Is it okay if we meet in person to discuss possible terms of an agreement? Over coffee, maybe?

Okay, you replied once again. When and where would you like to meet?

The Brew Towers on Saturday, say, 9 AM?

That works for me.

Your eyebrows raised as a notification popped up stating that you had received $100 from Matthew.

As a sign of good faith , Matthew explained. See you Saturday.

See you Saturday.

You logged out and closed your laptop, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. This was the first time you'd be meeting a potential client in person and needless to say, you were nervous.

Matt sat back and took another sip of the glass of whiskey he had poured himself before he had signed up on Sugar and Spice. He had been in court earlier that day and had overheard a conversation during recess between opposing counsel about Nesbit’s much-younger girlfriend.

“How'd an old dog like you manage to score a hot piece of ass like that?” Peterson had asked jokingly.

Nesbit had chuckled. “You'd be amazed at what you can find on the internet these days. Let's just say Candy and I have a… business arrangement.”

Peterson had dropped his voice down to a whisper. “She's not an escort, is she? You know the partners don't want wind of any kind of impropriety possibly getting out to the public--”

Nesbit had made a dismissive sound. “No, nothing like that. You ever heard of Sugar and Spice, that website that connects men of a certain wealth and caliber with women who are looking for someone to take care of them? Well, Candy and I met there. She takes care of my needs, and I take care of hers.”

“So, what, you pay her to date you?”

“In a way. I keep her happy by giving her money and buying her things, and she lets me do whatever else I want when I'm not with her.”

Matt's eyebrows had furrowed. Maybe Nesbit had a point -- maybe it was easier to have a business arrangement with someone in order to fill the romantic void in his life rather than having to pick up a different woman every couple of weeks because they got too attached. Better to have someone who knows exactly what they're getting into.

As soon as he had gotten home he had looked up Sugar and Spice, and not finding anything in their terms and conditions that raised red flags, had signed up and began to browse through profiles.

After scrolling through profiles for over an hour and not finding anyone that piqued his interest he had almost gone ahead and given up when his voiceover function read out another profile header to him, this time for a woman who was at least closer to Matt's own age than all of the other women he had checked out.

He had listened to your profile then clicked the “Send Message” button, typing out a quick message and hitting send.

He had gone to answer the door for a delivery, and by the time he had gotten back to his laptop he’d had a reply.

Before he could second-guess himself Matt had asked you out for coffee, then sent $100 to your Sugar and Spice account to show you he was sincere.

He shut his laptop and stood, then headed to go shower and get ready to go out as Daredevil. He'd gotten a tip about a major drug shipment coming in through the docks that evening and needed to go stop it.

He'd worry about his love life later.

#lotmf writes #Sweet On You Masterlist #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader

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trippiexlove · 2 months ago

Text

Ch.25 - Serendipity

Story Master List

Main Master List - If you would like to be tagged comment below!

Druitt POV

~WrestleMania Night 1~

The air crackled with an energy I could practically taste. WrestleMania weekend. The words themselves felt monumental, but this year held an extra layer of significance. The whole family was in town, a vibrant, chaotic wave of love and laughter that had taken over our hotel. And the crazy part? Every single one of us was slated for a match across these two nights.

Tonight, the twins had their match, followed by the tag match with Roman and Rock against Cody and Seth. Trin, was also set to tearto team up with Bianca and Jade against Damage CTRL. Tomorrow, the spotlight would be mine, the pressure mounting for my match against Becky left me with nerves. Tonight, though, provided the calm before the storm.

I was putting the final touches on my makeup in Jey and my room. My meet and greet in an hour, I love having a chance to connect with my fans, their energy giving me all the motivation I will need. Afterwards, I will be heading straight to the stadium.

Just as I was blending my eyeshadow, the door creaked open and Jey leaned against the frame, a soft smile playing on my lips as he stood behind me, his reflection meeting mine in the mirror. The familiar scent of his cologne a comforting anchor in the whirlwind of the day. "What's up, babe?"

"Nothing," He replied, returning the smile. "You 'bout to head out?"

"Yeah, got that meet and greet in a few," I nodded, he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to my lips. I playfully wiped a smudge of lipstick from his lips before we both headed out of the room. I double-checked I had my essentials – phone, wallet, hotel key – before saying goodbye to the boys, their playful banter already echoing down the hallway.

The lobby was luckily clear of fans, a small mercy in the otherwise buzzing hotel. Stepping outside, the sleek black truck waited for me. The ten-minute drive to the venue felt like a blink. As we pulled up, the sheer scale of the crowd hit me. A sea of faces, a roaring wave of energy stretched as far as I could see. It was humbling.

As I stepped out of the car, a wave of cheers erupted, washing over me. I grinned, waving back, my heart swelling with gratitude. I was guided into the building and up to the elevated stage, taking my seat behind the long table with photos and merchandise.

The next couple of hours flew by in a happy blur of smiles, signatures, and quick chats. Each interaction, each story shared by the fans, added another layer to the already vibrant energy of the day. Finally, it was time to head inside the stadium.

Stepping through the backstage doors was like entering a beautifully orchestrated chaos. Superstars and crew members buzzed with purpose, a symphony of controlled energy. I exchanged greetings with a few superstars as I navigated the long, winding hallways, the distant roar of the early crowd already a palpable presence.

I finally reached the family's dressing room, a haven of familiar faces amidst the backstage frenzy. Mama T’s warm embrace was a welcome comfort, followed by hugs from Roman’s wife and their kids, and Jeyce and Jimmy’s daughter, their excited chatter filling the room. Even Zilla and Jacob were there, adding to the familial warmth. I made my rounds, a quick, hug with Jimmy, Trin introduced me to her friend Kairi, before I finally reached Jey, who was just starting to tape up his hands, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Without a word, I gently took the tape from his hands, my fingers expertly continued the process. I laid the tape beside him and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I missed you today."

"I missed you too, aulelei," he murmured, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. I settled down next to him, the comfortable rhythm of our presence a silent language.

Soon, the lights dimmed, the iconic WrestleMania theme blared through the speakers, and the stadium erupted. The first match saw Iyo Sky defend her title against Bayley. Every near fall, every high-impact move had us on the edge of our seats. After a grueling fourteen minutes, the crowd exploded as Bayley pinned Iyo, becoming the new WWE Women's Champion. The energy in the suite was electric, a mix of respect for both competitors and excitement for the night ahead.

Next up was the chaotic six-pack tag team match for the undisputed tag team championships. The tension was thick as Awesome Truth snatched the Raw tag titles and A-Town Down Under claimed the SmackDown titles, the unexpected twists sending waves of shock and excitement through the arena. Then came the matchup of Rey Mysterio and Andrade against Santos Escobar and Dominik, a clash steeped in personal animosity. As the match neared its end, the twins had to get ready, their match coming up next.

"Y'all come on," I said, gathering all the kids. "We can watch from the crowd." We walked with the twins to Gorilla Position, the final checkpoint before they stepped through the curtain. I pulled Jey aside, cupping his face in my hands.

"Remember," I said, my voice soft but firm, "tonight you're making history alongside your brother. Whatever happens out there, leave every piece of yourself in that ring." He nodded, his eyes locked on mine, a flicker of nerves masked by determination. We shared our special handshake, a silent promise of support, before I leaned in for a lingering kiss. He then placed a tender kiss on Jeyce’s head, a sweet moment of familial connection before the competitive fire ignited.

Holding the kids’ hands, we headed out to an area we can watch the match, the roar of the crowd intensifying as each twins’ music hit. We watched, hearts pounding, as they made their individual entrances, the weight of their legacy hanging in the electric air. The bell rang, and the brothers went at it, a whirlwind of familiar offense turned against each other. We cheered them on, a mix of pride and nervous energy swirling within us. Jey landed a brutal superkick, Jimmy collapsing to the mat, and the pin felt like an eternity before the referee’s hand finally slapped the canvas for the third count. We erupted, cheering Jey’s hard-fought victory as he made his way up the ramp, the weight of the match etched on his face. Jimmy followed shortly after.

We decided to stay out there for Trin’s match, the kids bouncing with excitement as her music filled the building. The energy shifted, as Trin, Bianca, and Jade made their entrance, their confidence radiating. The match was a display of pure athleticism and teamwork. We were on our feet, our voices hoarse with excitement as they secured the pin, the three women celebrating their victory on the top rope. Once they made their exit, we headed back to the family dressing room.

As I walked into the room, my eyes immediately found Jey. I crossed the space between us and pulled him into a tight hug, my lips finding his in a celebratory kiss. "Congratulations on the win, baby. I am so damn proud of you."

He grinned, the gold of his grills flashing. "Thank you, baby." He kissed me again, a quick, sweet affirmation before letting go. I turned to Jimmy, patting him on the shoulder.

"You'll get him next time, uce," I said gently. The room filled with laughter, the tension of the match easing. Jimmy playfully shrugged my hand off his shoulder, a small smile finally breaking through his disappointment, earning a chuckle from me.

"Get your damn hands off me, woman," he grumbled good-naturedly. I shook my head, a fond smile on my face, before pulling Trin into a hug, showering her with congratulations.

We all settled back, the anticipation building once more as it was finally time for the main event. Roman had left the suite shortly after we arrived, his focus sharpening for the monumental task ahead.

The atmosphere in the room during the match was electric. Every near fall, every power move, had us on the edge of our seats. Yells of encouragement, frustrated groans, and the occasional colorful profanity filled the air. We practically lost our minds when Seth Rollins, in a shocking moment of loyalty, saved Cody, allowing Roman to spear The Rock, the impact reverberating through the television screen.

Throughout the entire match, the family was a united front, our cheers and shouts echoing our unwavering support. The tension reached a fever pitch in the final moments, a collective gasp escaping our lips as The Rock ultimately secured the victory, the stipulation of a Bloodline Rules match set for tomorrow hanging heavy in the air.

As Roman and Rock entered the dressing room, they were met with a wave of applause and cheers, the family’s pride evident in their faces. Once Roman made his way over to Jey and me, both of us giving him props for the amazing match. Once everyone was ready, we headed back to the family suite, the celebration continuing over a much-needed dinner.

The suite buzzed with conversation as we ate a variety of food. Eventually, the large group naturally splintered into smaller clusters. Jey, his cousins, and brothers gathered around a table, a deck of cards appearing as if by magic, their laughter and playful banter filling the air. The girls and I retreated to the balcony, the cool Philly air a welcome contrast to the adrenaline-fueled atmosphere inside.

We sipped our wines, the city lights twinkling below. I sat nestled beside Trin, with Solo’s and Roman’s wives settled comfortably across from us. "You ready for your match tomorrow?" Galina asked, her eyes kind as she swirled the wine in her glass.

I nodded, a sense of calm focus settling over me. "I am. I've always enjoyed working with Becky. We have a chemistry in the ring. I know it's going to be a great match."

Trin chimed in, her voice full of confidence. "Most definitely. And I know you're going to get that win, sis." We high-fived, a shared understanding passing between us.

My gaze drifted to Almia, who gently cradled her swollen belly, a soft smile gracing her lips. "How's pregnancy treating you, Mia?"

"Whew, baby girl is kicking my behind," she chuckled, a hint of weariness in her voice. "I am so ready to deliver already." I cooed softly, admiring the gentle curve of her stomach.

"Your kids are just absolutely adorable, and Galina, you and Joe's boys," I shook my head, a wave of affection washing over me. "Between all your kids, I don't know who gives me more baby fever."

"Oh yeah? When do you plan on having kids?" Almia teased gently. I blew out a breath, sinking into a moment of thoughtful silence.

"I honestly don't know," I admitted, the weight of my career settling upon me. "I am at the top of my division right now, and it took me so long to get here. I don't know if I'm ready to give that up right now." I shrugged, looking over at Trin for understanding. "I mean, you get where I'm coming from, right?"

Trin nodded, her expression empathetic. "Yeah, I understand, sis. But if the time comes, what are you going to do about it?"

"I guess I'll deal with it if it ever happens," I said, a touch of uncertainty in my voice.

Galina leaned forward, placing her wine glass on the small table. "Well, whenever you guys do decide to have babies, I just know they will be so cute and loved by everyone."

I smiled, appreciating her heartfelt words. "But whenever you want some practice, you are more than welcome to come get any of the kids," Almia joked, and we all dissolved into laughter, the easy camaraderie a comforting balm.

As the night began to wind down, Jey and I slipped away, leaving the cousins to their card game. Jeyce opted to stay, eager for more time with his cousins. Back in our room, the quiet intimacy was a welcome change. We went through our familiar night routine, the comfortable silence punctuated by small touches and shared glances. Soon, we were cuddled together in bed, the exhaustion of the long day finally catching up.

"You know that I am really proud of you," I murmured, looking up at Jey as I rested my head on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing lullaby.

"You only told me a million times." he replied softly, leaning down to press a slow, lingering kiss to my lips. "No matter what happens tomorrow, know that I am proud of you too."

I sighed, a flicker of anxiety still lingering despite the day's triumphs. "I'm not going to lie, with how things can change so quickly, I'm afraid they're going to take the title off me."

Jey shook his head gently against my hair. "Don't think like that. You are one of the best this company has seen in a while. They would be crazy to take that title off you now."

I smiled at his unwavering belief in me. "Thank you, I guess I'm just getting in my head."

He kissed the top of my head, pulling me closer. "You know I've got your back, always."

"I can always count on you to say the right things to calm me down," I murmured, my eyelids growing heavy.

"That's my job," he whispered, his voice already thick with sleep.

Soon, or rather Jey, drifted off. Even with his comforting words, a small knot of anxiety remained in my stomach about tomorrow’s match. But wrapped in his arms, the exhaustion eventually won, and I forced my eyes closed, finally succumbing to sleep.

If you would like to be added to the taglist let me know below :)

📓 Taglist: @dollface110-blog , @therealh18 , @skyesthebomb , @moxley99 , @fafomama , @queeny23 , @duhitzkay380 , @xbriexx , @mindairy , @tribalchief2112 , @theusotwinzcom , @yana3sworld , @baybehkay , @jazzyboo123-blog1 , @uceyliyahh , @transparentphantomface , @bossbitch-25 , @sheaabuttaababyy , @emotionalhottiee , @jeyusosqueen , @pinkwithhearts , @purplementalitybluebird , @moxley99 , @reginawhorge01 , @wrestlingprincess80 , @raya-hunter01 , @justazzi , @mamis-girly

#jey uso #jey uso x black oc #jeyuso #jey uso x black reader #wwe #jey uso x black fem oc #trippiexlove #talks with trips #main event jey uso #serendipity x trippielove

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winterrrnight · 1 year ago

Note

Wedding / honeymoon with Drew for ig au ?

thank you for this request nonnie! I hope you enjoy this 💞💞 do let me know your thoughts if you wanna xx

honeymoon

PAIRING: drew starkey x fem!reader

SUMMARY: an instagram blurb about you and drew getting married and going on your honeymoon.

FACE CLAIM: n/a

WARNINGS: n/a

EDITH SPEAKS: I wasn't able to find a good face claim for this one so I decided to use faceless pictures from pinterest. please know none of these are deciding what you look like, they are used purely for imagination purposes :)

I made up all the instagram users, so if by any chance I have your instagram user used here, I'm so sorry I promise it was a total coincidence!

please like, reblog and share your thoughts 🥺 I love to interact with you all <3

navigation || join my taglist || requests

liked by rudeth, brooke_starkey and 3,281,492 others

yourinstagram what a day it was celebrating the start of our new life ❤️ drew, I cannot wait to see what the future has in store for us 🎇

tagged: drewstarkey

drewstarkey 💘💘

drewandynschild HAPPY MARRIAGE!!!! 💗😭

rafecore oh my goddd they're so cute 🥹 wishing only the best for them <3

vogueweddings congratulations!! 🤍✨

-> yourinstagram thank you vogue 💞

madelyncline mr. and mrs. starkey 🫶🏻

-> yourinstagram 🤭

liked by user21, obx_is_life and 89,281 others

drewstarkeyupdates y/n via ig stories!

tagged: drewstarkey, yourinstagram

rafeyyy omg their honeymoon 🥹

zachmaclarensgirl can they adopt me or smth

drewsrafe oh lord he's so cute

livelaughrafe NEED TO SEE DREW'S CAMERA ROLL

-> karabaeee FR FR FR

liked by jonathandavissofficial, madisonbaileybabe and 4,421,964 others

drewstarkey wouldn't wanna do this with anyone else

tagged: yourinstagram

yourinstagram 🥺🤍

-> drewstarkey ❤️

fionapalomo how cutee 🫶🏻🥹

-> drewstarkey 💖

user82 ughh I love them smm

iluvrafe they are just my favourite people everrr

drewsify 🥹🥹

liked by hichasestokes, theregoesrafe and 4,382,281 others

yourinstagram honeymoon diaries (drew being drew edition)

lilalovesdrew everyone say thank you y/n for all the premium drew content she's been providing us 😌

-> obxfan29 thank you y/n!!!

-> rafestarkey YEAHH THANK YOU Y/N

drewandynschild can't get enough of him 😭😭

maybankluvbot HES SO CUTE

liked by drew_clouds, theotherzach and 99,291 others

drewstarkeyupdates drew with fans today!

tagged: drewstarkey

ayoitsyourgirl OH THESE ARE SO CUTE

cameronlovebot he looks like he gives the best hugs 🥺

rafe_stars I WANNA HUG HIM SOO BAD

misscarerra 🥹🥹🥹

liked by rafelovesyou, rafeyyy and 70,382 others

drewstarkeyupdates y/n via ig stories!

tagged: drewstarkey, yourinstagram

olivia_cameron if my future husband doesn't take me to a honeymoon as amazing as this one I'm not going 😤

macklovesmaddie i love them smmmm

drewfan90 they fr gave us some of the best content ever

aurora.andrews my parents frfr

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @tahliac11 @sadfury @newsies-pape-girl @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @callsignwidow

(If you want to be added, check out the 'join my taglist' post on top! + send in requests if you have any, but please read the 'requests' post first!)

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fmaoldficarchive · 6 months ago

Text

Welcome Post

Hi! This is the FMA Oldfic Preservation Blog, we're dedicated to digging up the old, beloved fanfics steadily dying to linkrot and lost accounts on places like livejournal, wattpad and quotev, to archive and display them here for the continued enjoyment of the public.

I understand the importence of always backing up these fics directly to the internet archive whenever possible to preserve the original integrity of the work, as well as its associated profiles and links. But due to complications regarding crawling mature content on sites such as livejournal, as well as the risk of certain fics and websites becoming unfindable on the wayback machine in the event the original link becomes lost, I sometimes have to work around this.

This blog exists both to allow the internet archive to crawl at-risk fics effectively, and to bring fics and fansites that have faded into the background, or even gone offline permenantly, back into the spotlight for a new audience to enjoy (or an old audience to rediscover).

All fics are welcome in the name of fandom history, regardless of ship, fic content or any associated fandom dramas therein, but I always try to tag appropriately, please feel free to comment if you feel additional content warnings or tags are necessary.

Requests are always accepted and encouraged!

How It Works (by website)

This blog is an index of archived fics across many old fan websites, with the goal of preventing those sites from being lost to obscurity (I didn't know about half of these when I joined the fandom) along with archiving and indexing oldfics on sites that are still active, like ao3.

The below format allows me to archive and index any fic on the websites listed while skirting tumblr's mature content policy. It also allows me breathing room, the ability to post more fics with less stress, and avoids outright reposting fics whenever possible.

Website's being indexed from, and how each work:

Standard procedure - Fic page(s) are saved to the wayback machine, then the archived link - along with the original, if the site is still up - is posted with the original summary and tags, along with additional tags and content warnings added by myself to aid in navigation. This means you can still read fics on currently active websites even if they shut down, or are currently under maintenence.

Special procedure - For websites the Wayback Machine is unable to crawl, fics will be reposted here in a private post so they can be archived. The private post is deleted and the archived link is used to make a normal post for the fic. This avoids tumblr flagging by keeping as little smut directly on the blog as possible. fanfiction.net - Standard archiveofourown - Standard, also hosts my open oldfic collection, which serves a similar purpose to this blog, collecting external bookmarks as well as fics on ao3. The collection will never be closed and anyone can contribute. deviantart - Standard mediaminer - Standard txq.nu/jumpyboys - website has shut down and archived fics are the only available - Standard yaoi.toukakoukan - website has shut down and archived fics are the only available - Standard archive.skyehawke.com - website has shut down and archived fics are the only available - Standard adultfanfiction.net (2003-2013) - adult-fanfiction.org (2013-) - Standard scimitarsmile - suggested by zetalial - website has shut down and archived fics are the only available - Standard

wattpad - Website has blocked url from wayback machine - Special

quotev - Case by case, Wayback Machine occasionally seems to struggle to archive or load Quotev directly. livejournal - For fics without a mature label, Standard. Fics with a mature label are blocked from the Wayback Machine due to the content notice, Special.

Early posts which do not meet the format listed will retrofitted in the near future, and this notice removed. 12/24/24

#fma #fma 03 #fma 2003 #fma brotherhood #fullmetal alchemist #fma fic #fanfiction archive #oldfic archive #housekeeping

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cupidzone · 2 years ago

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˚꒰ 🏹 DISCORD FORUMS TUTORIAL♡

i'm not sure if people have seen or tested out the forums on discord but i thought i'd make a tutorial on how i use it for roleplaying since i found it super fun and helpful for organization purposes!

so what are forums? discord describes it as "a space for organized discussions". much like threads, the discussions can be contained in one post which makes it easy to keep your topics in order. the part that i find most useful is that you can organize your post by tags and filter through them! now in order to get forums in your server, you will have to enable 'Community' on your server. so let's start!

♡ . ) first thing you'll do is open your server setting. there will be an 'Enable Community' that you can click on and it will take you to a page like this

♡ . ) once you click 'Get Started' it will take you through a series of questions and system settings. you will need at least one "default channel" where discord will send automated updates. this channel is necessary if you want to use forums.

if you continue with the default settings, discord will automatically create two channels for you: one titled 'rules' and another titled 'moderators-only'. the announcements made whenever there's an update as mentioned above will be sent to the latter.

NOTE FROM CUPID ! i personally like to make a single channel titled something like 'updates' and keep it locked. this can be done before or after enabling community, you will just need to change the settings to go to the new channel first.

♡ . ) once you have community enable, you're free to make all the forums you want! when you go to create a new channel, 'forums' will show up as an option like this

for this example, i'm going to show how i set up my muses' profiles for 1x1 writing server like a roster, but you can also do this for single muse / threads / sms / etc.

♡ . ) when you click into the forums channel you created, you will see a landing page like this. there are instructions on how to navigate the channel as well so feel free to read those as well! the first thing i like to do is create tags. you can open that setting by clicking either of these buttons.

(navigate to the 'Tags' section and click 'Create Tag' if you need to) it will open a popup box like this. i like to create a tag for every muse that i want to add to my roster and you're able to add 20 tags!

when you're finished, they will be listed as you see below. there are other options in forums settings that you can play around with including a 'default reaction' emoji, 'slowmode', layout and sorting option, age restriction and 'hide after inactivity'. all these are based on preference!

♡ . ) once you've saved your setting changes, you can leave this page and are now able to make your posts by clicking 'New Post' on the upper right hand corner.

this is where you're pretty much able to do whatever suits your style including formatting how you like and adding photos, all you need to make sure to do is add the corresponding tag to the post! once you're finished making it look how you want, you can click 'Post'

they will appear in the channel like this!

♡ . ) and by clicking on a post, you will be able to open it in a side view like this. if you want to see the post in full view, you will click the three dots in the upper right hand corner of the side view and then choose 'Open in Full View'.

you're now able to add more messages within the post! for me, i like to add stats of my muses and headcanons that may be useful when i thread.

NOTE FROM CUPID ! one set back i found is that you are not able to use threads within a forum post so it may get a bit cluttered depending on what you send in a forum post. so if you are wanting multiple different sections for one topic, i suggest creating a forum instead. for example, if you are wanting to add musings, faceclaim pics, headcanons and stats all for one muse, i would create a single forum post just for that muse instead to avoid having important info getting lost!

and that pretty much covers how i use forums for discord rp! i encourage you to play around with it to find a style and format that best works for you. and if you have any questions, you're more than welcome to send it to my inbox. happy writing everyone♡♡♡

#tutorial♡#rph #discord rph #discord rp #discord roleplay

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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago

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boyd-a-thon fic drive.

In this event, I donate $10/fic to Palestine Children's Relief Fund for smutty Boyd Holbrook character fics. You write a fic, 500-3k words. To participate, please tag #boyd-a-thon, me, and @lustaffairs.

Event Masterlist (ongoing). Optional Prompts

Done: 20 | Remaining: 10

I went ahead and made all the donations, but would love for people to keep participating and be added to the masterlist until it reaches 30 fics.

BACKGROUND: In thanks for these fics, I donated $10/fic to palestine children's relief fund, which is a top rated organization on charity navigator. I decided to continue this for more fics.

It can be any character on Boyd's IMDB, including - Donald Pierce (Logan), Clement Mansell (Justified City Primeval), Billy (Skeleton Twins), Amos Jenkins (Little Accidents) Mo Lundy (The Free World), Steve Murphy (Narcos), Ty Shaw (Vengeance 2022), and more. . .There's not always a steady flow of Boyd character fics, the fandom deserves to feast (including the amazing gifmakers), and this is what I crave.

I don't care if I've never heard of you, or if it's your first fic. It can be porn without plot. It can be an AU like mafia, stepcest, etc. it can be out of character. 500-3k words? Brownie points from me for vaginal sex or jacking off. But this isn't limited to F/M, you can do a reader or character pairing of your choice.

Target - April 30 but no hard deadline.

PLEASE USE A READMORE text divider🙏 so I can reblog, and please include approximate word count if you don't mind. There will also be a masterlist. If I don't interact within a day, please DM. I will donate at the end of each week.

current gif by @boydholbrook-fan <33 always amazing

--------

I made a pcrf acct for this purpose but have also donated multiple times without an account, and it was very easy. I didn't even have to give my phone number. You can choose any amount to give. You don't have to use their pre-set amounts.

Your donation allows PCRF to deliver on its humanitarian mission and send international volunteer medical missions to treat sick and injured patients while training local doctors. It also enables PCRF to send wounded and sick children abroad for free medical care they cannot get locally. As a 4-star rated charity for the past 11 years, you can be sure that your donation will have the biggest impact on the lives of children in the Middle East, regardless of politics or religion.

$10 is comparable to ~15,000 clicks (on arab.org).

Last donation: May 25

IMG: PCRF dashboard says good afternoon, toxi! and shows I've given $300 through the acct I made for this event.

#boyd holbrook #boyd bungalow ☠️#fic event #amos jenkins x reader #mo lundy x reader #ty shaw x reader #clement mansell x reader #clement mansell #donald pierce x reader #spank bank donation drive #boyd-a-thon #big dick steve murphy

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the-tmnt-ficfinder · 1 year ago

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🐢TMNT Fanfic Appraisal Masterpost🐢

✨Link to Fanfics List Masterpost at the bottom, or here!✨

PFP Credit: @shyalia

Hello, and greetings to all those who have stumbled upon my little blog! For anyone wondering, this Masterpost holds all the information you may need to navigate this blog! If you've been here before, here's a fun little To-Do list I've complied to help you all see the going on's of this blog!! Such as the amounts of fanfics in my inbox, or the list of fics to be chosen at random to have their chapters rated individually. Along with that, the to-do list has every single important link collected in one place!!

💚The TMNT FicFinder To-Do List💚

💚The TMNT FicFinder Kofi Page Masterpost💚 (Tumblr Masterpost listing Kofi Proof Reading services, beta reading and fanfic annotations, and Fanfic Comms)

Now, to better explain, this blog was created with a few purposes in mind: to let Ao3 creators know that they're appreciated, to help readers find cool fanfics, and to let readers know what they're getting into with a fanfic i.e. like the tags on Ao3 but more in depth.

This blog mostly focuses on Rottmnt fanfics, 2012 fanfics, Mutant Mayhem/Tottmnt fanfics, and crossover fanfics between any of those iterations. I haven't seen the other TMNT shows and/or comics yet, which is why I won't be accepting fanfiction of them. The genre of the fanfics on this blog will usually be dramatic with lots of hurt/angst along with comfort/fluff, (as that's what we all love lol) and there will be NO T*CEST tolerated on this blog whatsoever!!! I will not rate a t*cest fic, read a t*cest fic or even look at one. I'll also be avoiding Oc x canon fanfics, and fanfics where the OC is an MC (Main Character). If you're worried about violence levels, and/or triggers, I will be rating them for each chapter so you can be prepared!!

Disclaimer!! I can refuse to add fics to the list!! While the possibility of that happening is quite low, it may happen. Particularly to fanfics that go against the stated rules, unfinished/abandoned fanfics with a low chapter count, fanfics with a high typo count (and I mean like, really high) and romance fanfics that I find unappealing.

In the event of this happening, if the fanfic in question has been sent to me, I will not delete the ask. I will answer it, along with an explanation as to why it will not be getting added to the list, and recommend it to those who may enjoy it.

What are the Ratings, and what do they mean?

Each fanfic will receive an overall rating consisting of these ten topics, rated 1-5 with heart emojis (For example; 💛💛💛🖤🖤). The rating is similar to a movie rating, letting you know what to expect. Along with each fanfic receiving a rating, each chapter within the fanfic will receive an individual rating. The ratings are;

Plot

Suspense/Mystery

Angst/Hurt

Fluff/Comfort

Emotions Conveyed

Drama/Tension Level

Triggers

Legibility (Reading)

Legibility (Audio)

Length

Now, what do these even mean?

Plot: Plot refers to how heavy the story line is. A higher rating equals a more intense plot with heavy intricate story lines.

Suspense/Mystery: This one refers to how suspenseful the story will be, or how much mystery it will contain. A high rating indicates high suspense and/or mystery and a low rating means low suspense and/or mystery.

Angst/Hurt: This refers to how intense the angst and/or hurt will be in the story. Some stories are high angst, and others low. This one pairs along with fluff/comfort.

Fluff/Comfort: This one refers to how much fluff/comfort the story has. This one pairs with angst/hurt, as some stories are high angst, low comfort, or vice versa.

Emotions Conveyed: This one refers to whether or not the emotions in the fanfic will affect your own emotions. Some writers are incredibly talented, and their chapters will make you get all up in your head, making you smile, frown, laugh, and even cry. This rating is to show how intensely the story will connect to your own emotions.

Drama/Tension Level: This one refers to how much tension will be in the story. Is it a relaxing read? Or will you constantly be on the edge of your seat, biting your nails? A high rating implies high tension which equals a more stressful read. A lower rating implies the opposite.

Triggers: Triggers are something we see often in fanfics, especially since we writers like writing about the most twisted stuff lol. This rating refers to how many triggers the story will have.

Legibility (Reading): This rating refers whether or not the story is easier to read rather than to listen to. Some stories are designed to be read only, as they have special effects, special words, and/or pictures. This rating is designed to you know if it would be better to read the story, or listen to it. This rating goes along with Legibility (Audio).

Legibility (Audio): This rating refers to whether or not the story is easier to read rather than listen to. Some stories, due to the formatting can be quite fun to listen to, especially if the story contains difficult to pronounce or difficult to read words. This rating goes along with Legibility (Reading). A high audio and reading rating, means that the story is fun to listen to, and read. A high reading, but a low audio rating means that its better to read rather than to listen, story quality may be lost in audio form.

Length: This refers to how long the story is, and how much time it may take to read it. We all have busy lives, and sometimes it can be hard to make time for reading, especially if we don't want to pause reading a chapter once we start. This rating is designed to let you know how long the story is, and how much time it'll take to read. A high rating mean a long chapter and a long time, while a low rating means the opposite. The ratings for this one, are a little more specific that the others. First of all, there's Story length, then there's Chapter length. I'll give the following example;

Story Length Length of Fanfic: 1k-15k+ words 💛🖤🖤🖤🖤 Length of Fanfic: 15.5k-50k+ words 💛💛🖤🖤🖤 Length of Fanfic: 50.5k-100k+ words 💛💛💛🖤🖤 Length of Fanfic: 200k-300k+ words 💛💛💛💛🖤 Length of Fanfic: 400k-500k+ words 💛💛💛💛💛

Chapter Length 1-10 minutes long: 💛🖤🖤🖤🖤 11-20 minutes long: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤 21-40 minutes long: 💛💛💛🖤🖤 41-60 minutes long: 💛💛💛💛🖤 1 hour or longer: 💛💛💛💛💛

As I am a very quick reader, I will be basing the chapter length times off of how long it takes to listen to in audio book form for a more accurate reading.

Now that you know what the ratings mean, and you're familiar with how my blog works, I encourage you to find a fic to read!! Or, if you have a fic you love, and you don't see it in my list, send it to me in an ask, and I'll add it to my list of fanfics to appraise!! The same goes for the opposite! Creators, if I appraise one of your fics, and it makes you uncomfortable, let me know, and I'll take it down. We got only good vibes here on this blog, I promise!!

To anyone who has a fanfic in my list, if you've got an event or a big update pertaining to your fanfic posted on your blog (i.e, art contests, hiatus, huge life updates that impact the fanfic, fic updates after a year of silence, or fic updates in general), tag me! Tag me, and I'll reblog it, advertise it, promote it, and all the good things!!

🐢TMNT Fanfic List Masterpost🐢

#rottmnt #tmnt 2012 #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt fanfiction #tmnt 2012 fanfic #tmnt fanfiction #Fanfic list #Ficfinder masterpost #TMNTficfinder #TMNT mutant mayhem #mutant mayhem #tottmnt

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thearchivistsletterbox · 5 months ago

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۶ letterbox newsletter: 1st edition ৎ

janurary edition, 2025

ⲥⲁⲥⲟⲉⲧⲏⲉ𝛓 𝛓ⲥꞅⲓⲃⲉⲛⲇⲓ ─── ⲥⲁⲥⲟⲉⲧⲏⲉ𝛓 𝛓ⲥꞅⲓⲃⲉⲛⲇⲓ ─── ⲥⲁⲥⲟⲉⲧⲏⲉ𝛓 𝛓ⲥꞅⲓⲃⲉⲛⲇⲓ

hello all! i’m back! this is letters, presenting the very first edition of the letterbox archives newsletter! i’m still tossing up if it should have a formal name, but i am open to suggestions! regardless, there’s a lot to cover this fortnight, so let’s get to it!

what is this newsletter? ‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅

first, a quick guide to the newsletter system!

this is a regular instalment in the archives, hopefully either once or twice a month, that for many intents and purposes functions as a means to update people to what’s happening around the archives! instalments may vary in length, depending on how busy i get (or if i forget), but think of it as a tool to navigate new information in the archives.

no other posts (save for a certain few) will include a tag list, so this is your stop to be notified to anything that might’ve flown under the radar. let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the newsletter tag list, i hope these updates won’t be an imposition!

newsletter masterpost!

⋆°.☾ return to the archives

as i said in the introduction, i’ve returned! it was difficult staying away for so long, though things in my personal life did get rough, but i’m so happy to be back! i am incredibly proud of all the work i’ve done over my hiatus and am super excited to share it! i am so thrilled to see the archives growing and progressing, and all the stories expanding by the minute!

whether you’ve been here since the beginning, or have only stumbled upon the archives recently, thank you for your support, it means the world to me!

masterpost!

volume 3 ‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅

now that i’m back from hiatus, i have another volume to introduce! volume 3 has been in the works for a while (in fact, most of the stories have come from old ideas repurposed for the archives), and i’m excited to see where they’ll go!

v3 masterpost!

⋆°.☾ new platforms

with the archives continuing to grow, i’ve made the decision to additionally make the archival stories available on other platforms! some may have noticed my linktree, and within that are links to my new ao3 and tapas accounts, which have all the debut instalments for every story, volumes 1 to 3, already available!

tumblr will remain my main source of engagement, and chapters will be released here before anywhere else. but, if you enjoy reading on other platforms as well, these new accounts are active!

ao3, tapas!

edits ‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅

this may be new information for some, but fun fact! before now, all the stories uploaded to the archives were first drafts (don’t ask about my writing process, it’s hell)! as such, there were small issues in the old versions of all the instalments, and over this hiatus myself and the interns have been working to improve them; that means editing!

all the edited versions are in their original posts. for most there are no incredibly major changes, but if you are dedicated to any specific story, i would recommend rereading.

also, new instalments may release at a slower/more staggered rate due to the beta reading and editing process. nonetheless, this should result in better stories overall, so i hope it’s worth the wait!

v1 masterpost, v2 masterpost!

⋆°.☾ on kingston alley and soleil éteint rewrites

during the editing process, some stories were edited more than others. as the only screenplay and second podcast (before volume 3), on kingston alley and soleil éteint changed significantly in the editing process.

due to the fact i was worried some platforms wouldn’t support the screenshot system i use on tumblr to upload these stories, i began to transcribe them into pure text format, and during that i realised that the beginnings of these stories did not portray the image i have for them. so i rewrote all of them (some may have changed a bit less than others)! namely, the first episode of kingston and the first session (minus the story/nightmare segment) of soleil.

there are no significant lore changes, just they are generally better written and clearer than they were before (mystery stories need a lot more care than i gave them upon their beginnings, i’ve found), so if you followed either of these stories, i strongly suggest rereading them to understand the new form they’ve taken.

200 visitors! ‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅

while i was gone, we reached 200 followers! 200 visitors have passed through the letterbox archives and decided it was worth their while! i am starstruck, frankly. i never expected this degree of attention when i began the archives, and i am beyond grateful for all the support and interest i’ve gained since i started. thank you all so much!!! i cannot begin to describe how much this means to me, thank you all again <3

⋆°.☾ new projects?

over my hiatus, a lot of new projects made themselves known in the archives (around... maybe 20... hypothetically). the most important ones are a certain 3, however. a while ago, i got my start writing novellas, and a part of me misses that, so i have planned for a few novels to enter the archives! they won't be documented the same way as other stories, they will be released as a whole when they're completed, but i'll post updates and snippets whenever i feel inclined to do so!

the current one i'm working on is called Hyrde, a fantasy horror novel following two kids, jericho and faun, as they uncover the gory, fervently well-kept secrets of their secluded hometown. i can't wait to share it with you all!

and that’s all for this edition! this is a much bigger edition than most, i expect, due to the fact i’ve just returned and have a lot to share! i am so happy to be back, i can’t wait to get back to it! hope you enjoyed reading the first edition of the archives newsletter!

@an-indecisive-nerd, @autism-purgatory, @cherrychiplip, @arality, @corinneglass,

@drchenquill, @gioiaalbanoart, @glassfrogforest, @hetaeraofhephestus, @honeybewrites,

@illarian-rambling, @inseasofgreen, @introchasingstars, @justsomeunmemorablewords, @kind-lion,

@leahnardo-da-veggie, @loverboyxbutch, @melpomene-grey, @millipede333, @moltenwrites,

@mysticstarlightduck, @noxxytocin, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @ominous-faechild, @paeliae-occasionally,

@pheonix358, @pluppsauthor, @rumeysawrites, @ri-toast167, @storyteller-kara,

@tc-doherty, @thecomfywriter, @thecrazyalchemist, @the-golden-comet, @thesaddersalad,

@theink-stainedfolk, @verdant-mainframe, @world-of-iridensia, @wyked-ao3

ⲥⲁⲥⲟⲉⲧⲏⲉ𝛓 𝛓ⲥꞅⲓⲃⲉⲛⲇⲓ ─── ⲥⲁⲥⲟⲉⲧⲏⲉ𝛓 𝛓ⲥꞅⲓⲃⲉⲛⲇⲓ ─── ⲥⲁⲥⲟⲉⲧⲏⲉ𝛓 𝛓ⲥꞅⲓⲃⲉⲛⲇⲓ

#letterbox newsletter #writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #not a story #writing community #letters speaks #creative writing #writers #writerscommunity

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