#I started writing it but didn't like it so I restarted

[seas-of-silver]

For the ask game ❤️💛

// Ladybug thought she had had everything handled; it was only when the blond cousin revealed his true nature that she realized she'd tied up the wrong one!

Ladybug thought she had had everything handled; it was only when the blond cousin revealed his true nature that she realized she'd tied up the wrong one!

'Damn it, Félix!' Ladybug exclaimed. 'Why didn't you say anything earlier?'

'I was curious as to why you needed my cousin so desperately as to kidnap him,' he replied from his position slung over her shoulder, still bound by her yo-yo, looking as infuriatingly calm as ever. 'You know if you just asked him that he'd go anywhere with you, Marinette. Besides, he's in London right now.'

Ladybug growled and put him down on his feet, recalling her yo-yo as she pinned her boyfriend's cousin with a glare. She was tired, and now that she got a proper look at him, he was obviously in his pyjamas with bed head, making his hair look more like Adrien's. She knew Adrien was in London, but as she swung past him earlier, he looked too much like Adrien that Ladybug couldn't help but take the opportunity to rescue what she thought was her boyfriend, too exhausted to think straight and realise it wasn't him.

'You know perfectly well why I'd go to such drastic measures,' Ladybug retorted. 'Speaking of; why did you decide that a theatre performance was the best way to tell me everything? Why didn't you and Kagami just talk to me? Preferably before Adrien was forced to leave Paris?'

'That's the way Kagami wanted to tell you,' Félix admitted, 'but I thought that the most optimum way of delivering all the information was through a storytelling medium - we figured that us performing the story would hold your attention long enough to give us a chance to make you listen to what we had to tell you.'

'Well, it did work,' Ladybug conceded, 'but I also thought I had dreamt the entire thing and struggled to put it all together. But that doesn't answer the question of why you two didn't tell me earlier.'

'Rehearsals,' answered Félix with a light shrug. 'Kagami is wonderful, but a theatre major she is not.'

'How did you convince Kagami to perform, anyway?' she asked curiously, before shaking her head to refocus. 'Ugh, tell me later. Anyway! So - Gabriel Agreste is Monarch, and you and Adrien are both part-sentimonster?'

'Correct on both counts,' he confirmed.

'And does Adrien know about any of this?' she pressed.

'To my knowledge, no,' said Félix.

Ladybug groaned. Poor Adrien was being left in the dark about, well, everything. 'Why didn't you tell him all this?'

'We couldn't risk it,' Félix answered. 'Gabriel still has possession of Adrien's amok, and therefore has control over Adrien. Telling him could jeopardise everything, including any advantage we have to defeat my uncle.'

Ladybug nodded thoughtfully. Unfortunately, Félix was right. But sooner or later, Adrien deserved to know.

'Fine,' she agreed, 'but as soon as Monarch is defeated, you have to tell Adrien everything. And you won't disappear on him like you did with me - you stay with him and answer every question he has for you, and you will comfort and support him so that he can come to terms with the bombshells you'll be dropping on him. This is your shared history - I can't be the one to tell him. Got it?'

Félix grumbled, pouting. 'I was hoping maybe that you-'

'No,' she immediately cut him off. 'Not me - you. Copy?'

He sighed. 'Fine. Now, can you take me back? I'm kinda cold.'

Ladybug shot him a deadpan look.

'You and I both know you can transform into Argos and get yourself home,' she retorted.

'But you're the one who kidnapped me,' he fired back, smirking playfully.

'I wasn't- I was trying to save Adrien-' she blustered, before sighing. 'I'm too tired for this.'

'Maybe you need some melatonin if you're struggling to sleep?' Félix suggested.

'What I need is to stop my father-in-law from destroying the universe and for him to let my husband freely live his life,' Ladybug muttered dully. After a moment, her own words registered in her mind and her eyes widened. 'I- I mean- to stop Gabriel and- boyfriend not husband-'

Félix laughed lightheartedly. 'I understood, don't worry... cousin-in-law.'

'Go home, Félix!'

~/~

Ask game: Give me the first sentence and I'll write a short piece for it!

[spdrvyn]

miguel and his sunshine human gf that loves to annoy the shit out of him and sometimes in order to stop her/calm her down he has to put her in an air jail 🤭

ardor and annoyance

miguel and reader who's a bundle of energy and joy. having to tame your late night rituals is no easy task, but it's one that he's always willing to take. what's more important than having your dear lover in bed with you?

pure fluff. reader can be seen as either civilian/spider. is it really one of my fics if i don't write about how much miguel hates himself even by just a little bit

dividers by @cafekitsune

What Miguel learned from being a leader, setting an example, being his mother's son, and serving as a hero was patience. 

It was a value that he had slipped up on from time to time, more often with himself. If he ever found himself at wit's end with someone else, he would mope until it passed or wait to get some precious alone time and healthily expresses his emotions by making a mess of his quarters and breaking down until he'd get tired and just sleep it off, restarting this precious cycle. 

Eventually though, he had begun to no longer exhaust himself by getting angry. Unless the entire multiverse was at stake (ahem), then he'd have to spring into action. But his main priority now is to fix the problem, get it over with, rinse, and repeat. 

When you entered his life, he realized that there was more to his ridiculous routines, more than his self-destructive attitudes, and that true patience came with love and caring as well. Obviously, he's light years away from being content with himself, but you redirect him, navigating through when that dastardly cycle repeats, so that you can wash it away and make him anew. 

Miguel isn't the only one that has his layers peeled back though, there's so much that he notices about you. That composed and mature persona that you set up for yourself, that has built good albeit only professional connections with the other spiders eases its way into a bubbly and joyful demeanor whenever you're around him. 

It almost didn't make sense, Miguel just seemed like the kind of guy to not want to do that with, to not want to relax around. He couldn't even relax on his own, the thought that anyone could feel comfortable in their own skin around him was shoved into the back of his mind. That connection that he so painfully needs is put aside for prioritizing the safety of everyone everywhere else. 

Your true nature is infectious, to his dismay. It's too difficult to avoid the care that you're so insistant on giving him, it started with working overtime, to enjoying working overtime, to going over to Miguel's place for work purposes, to going over to Miguel's place for non-work purposes to kissing him for the first time, and now you're dating. 

The catch with Miguel having let loose around him was that all that conserved energy circulated around his apartment, whenever he got home from another long day at the Society, he'd climb into you doing five different things all at once. Reading, watching a show, watching a baking show, baking a cake, and texting. 

It was hectic, nothing that he couldn't handle, but how you're not on the verge of collapsing probably deep into the trenches of the night concerned him. For slightly more selfish reasons, Miguel doesn't like not having you in bed with him. This wasn't as extreme as the missions he took up at work, but it was a mission nonetheless.

You're... Busy, Miguel doesn't know what with. He sees yarn, he sees cookie dough, he sees a laptop, tablet, phone, and headphones, and so many other trinkets that are buried under the pile that you've built on the kitchen counter. Your focus shifts between each individual station, and Miguel shifts closer and closer to you quietly. 

You're occupied on the laptop, occasionally looking at the stove while you're doing so. Then returning to your yarn and now knitting needles? Before mixing the cookie dough even more and even liking the mixture off of the spoon, humming to yourself contently. 

You don't even notice that Miguel is right behind you, until he secures you against his front and lifts you up with a squeal. 

"Miguel!" You whine, squirming against his solid arms. Your feet swing in the air and you try to push his hands away from your midsection, but there's no use in trying to free yourself when it's with him anyway. 

"Go to sleep. No más tonterías, cariño." His voice is fogged by sleep, as his grasp on you tightens. You turn slightly with what little space that you have and you can see his slumber muddled stature. Tousled hair, relaxed expression, eyes half-lidded, and he raises a brow at your staring. "What?"

"Nothing," you sigh, "I'll go to sleep, you just have to let me go."

Miguel shakes his head, rocking your swinging body from side to sidet to go along with it as well. "No, I don't trust you." There's a humorous fry to it, you accentuate the pout on your lips, and he laughs. 

It takes a little while for you to convince him to put you down, you can't say this is the most uncomfortable position for you. Whenever you're around Miguel, you always wind up in his arms one way or another, but this time that principle is just being used against you. The conversation shifts, less about your captivity, more about Miguel's day, your day, anything new outside, anything new in Spider Society. The position you're in, the silky nature in his voice, it gets you groggy and Miguel can sense it. 

He wins. 

He handles you to the bed properly now, laying your once tireless form onto the comforter as he tucks you in. You don't even try objecting anymore, the stove is still on, the video on your laptop was probably still playing, and that knitting project will have to remain unfinished until tomorrow, but it was fine. You know that everything is fine when Miguel gets into bed with you, pressing his lips to the top of your head in one long kiss. 

He wins this little dispute of yours, but you know that you've won at life knowing that your nights end like this, engulfed in his embrace, the sound of his breathing bringing you to a deep sleep as well. 

[matrixbearer2024]

Get Off My Screen!

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: I'm doing this cuz someone wanted to see my shitposty idea hahaha, I hope it's not too OOC but oh well- I hope someone could write a proper fic with this since I don't trust my writing much HAHAHAHA

A/N: I'll also be doing this from the reader's POV for now. Just message me or request if you wanna see Vox's POV since it might be too long if I include his thingy in this post XD

College life is fun, do doubt about that; from the parties to the friends you make- it truly was unforgettable.

Even if you did study a lot, wanting to get high marks- you had time to indulge every once in a while and goof off with friends.

It made you a star student on paper- but nearly bordering troublesome with your chaotic behavior.

You were lucky to never have been caught with their shenanigans.

But of course your friends just had to push it.

A new ghost hunting hype trend surfaced online and they were convinced that they had to get into it.

You said it was a bad idea, getting into stuff you didn't know.

Your friends brushed you off and all piled into the attic of your parents' home.

Of course, your parents were more than happy to explain some things before leaving your group to their devices.

They've been messing with the... "paranormal" for most of their lives.

You just chose not to believe it.

It wasn't like there was proof aside from heresay anyways.

Your friends proceed to mess with the ouija board they found, among other probably possessed things.

You found it all way too creepy to be honest.

Especially that old CRT TV that was just sitting in the corner.

It was an old thing you remembered using, but it always glitched and stuttered when you were a kid.

Even if there wasn't actually anything wrong with it according to the technicians that tried to fix it over the years.

Your friends started screaming before you could really reminisce.

"WHO'S MOVING IT?!"

"I'M NOT DOING ANYTHING-"

"IT'S MOVINNGGGGGGG-"

The fact the ouija board was actually reacting slightly freaked you out.

You managed to calm your friends from bombarding the thing with questions before asking what actually mattered.

"What's your name?"

V... O... X...

That didn't sound like a demon name you were even vaguely familiar with, at least off the top of your head.

Then of course that creepy TV from your childhood turned on by itself.

Your friends were screaming bloody murder at this point.

You didn't even realize the fuss until you saw the darn thing was unplugged.

You freaked out too, bolting down the attic stairs with your friends quickly in tow.

It was smooth sailing afterwards, your parents assuring you that nothing would happen.

Your friends stayed for dinner until they had to go.

You were about to retire for the night as well until you realized you couldn't find your phone.

Everywhere you looked, it wasn't there.

That left one place.

The attic.

By the time you gathered the courage to return, everything seemed just fine.

The TV was finally turned off, how and why- you didn't bother enough to know.

So you picked up your phone off the floor and just headed to your room.

Only to practically get jumpscared when you opened your phone.

WHO PUT A FRIGGIN WEIRD GLITCHY SMILEY ON YOUR WALLPAPER?!

Annoyed, you switched it back before plugging it into the charger.

Come morning, you had a bone to pick with your lot of friends.

Because not only was your phone stuck with the wallpaper problem, soon were all your devices.

You tried everything, restarting your stuff, running an antivirus, even getting it professionally checked.

Nothing.

And the problem continued to persist.

Now at your wits' end, you figured whatever entity was messing with your gadgets could at least converse with you through said gadgets.

So you opened a blank notepad on your laptop, nearly glaring at the screen while waiting for something to happen.

Five minutes passed and nothing happened.

"OH YOU CRAPPY PIECE OF TECH JUST DO SOMETHING!"

Even more waiting and still nothing.

Eventually you just decided to type something up on the notepad in impatience.

"I know you're in there. Stop messing with me."

And to your surprise, something finally replied.

"Oh I know, you're just fun to mess with doll."

What. The. Fuck.

And that was how you met him.

Vox, the tech overlord demon, months ago.

When he infected your phone, then consequently the rest of your electronics too.

Since then he's been an annoying thorn in your side.

Well... or even a welcome distraction.

Maaaaybe even an odd Omegle Buddy?

Who even still does those?

Either way, you never had to use spellcheck again whenever doing your work.

Nor did you consult Google as often either.

As rude and annoying as he was, Vox was quite helpful when it came to paperwork.

Not that you didn't know much about him, on some days you would both just chat using the notepad.

He hated some radio guy named "Alastor"?

You would laugh if you weren't so tired.

Depending on Vox's mood, he was either tolerable or a downright prick.

Fighting over control of the cursor was also pretty common occurrence.

Vox practically living in your gadgets forced you to learn at least basic software care and programming.

The guy also ended up sorting your files!

You'd be more thankful if he wasn't so bitchy about your file arrangement anyway.

It wasn't that bad.

You want to call him your virtual friend- but he's more like an annoying virus that throws hissy fits from time to time.

Even if said hissy fits were either excessive amounts of lag or mostly obstructive visual glitches and pop ups.

The little shit was also constantly messing with you during class.

Not that he cared enough even if you told him you were, he'd still be messing with your notes or even your files every now and then.

You stopped trying to change wallpapers after you realized he kept switching them back to his grinning face.

Let's not even mention his multitude of custom emojis stuck in your device.

How that got there, you didn't care enough to figure out.

What a weirdo.

Though him constantly interacting with your software gave you an idea.

You saw your friend fawning over a thing called a "desktop pet" just a little ago in class.

They chose to get a virtual slime.

It piqued your interest after you saw it was interactive too.

And knowing that Vox liked to mess with your operating systems a lot, you decided to try and get one to see what he'd do.

You got the basic one, just a random anime "chibi" or so it was labeled on the website.

It walked around and did some emotes before a notepad opened up with a message.

"What the fuck is that."

"My new desktop companion, do you like it?"

You didn't get a reply so you just left to grab a snack.

You weren't even surprised with what you came back to.

Vox was already using the cursor to bully the desktop pet you downloaded.

Either throwing it around or just repeatedly spam clicking it so it fell over.

The sonova bitch-

You kind of expected it, just leaving Vox to do his thing while you went to take a nap.

Only, you didn't realize you would be coming back to a new custom desktop pet and an open note.

"You're welcome~"

If that was what Vox looked like, you couldn't deny it was cute.

Or at least the small desktop pet made it seem so.

It was a striking design for sure-

Did he have a monitor for a head??

Oh that explains the face on your screen wallpapers.

You didn't realize until too late that Vox could interact with you using the desktop pet either.

Sometimes the things he did were cute with it, like the emotes that were installed on the thing.

Or he was just a little shit closing your windows or dragging them off screen before you could notice and stop him.

He was an annoying bastard-

But you kept him around anyways.

A/N: I really had fun writing this thing, it hasn't gone romantic since I didn't know if I wanted it to go that route so this is more of a friendly thing? Either way I might write Vox's POV sooner or later this was a really fun idea HAHAHAHA

A/N: Vox's POV is here!! :3

[pinkyqil]

Begging' On your knees

Summary: mapi had been going out with one of the player's until she randomly just ghosted and broke up with her over text with no explanation whatsoever.

Warning: none and let's not forget everything is fictional !

Basically a mapi x Ingrid x r oc kinda fic,inspired by the song begging on your knees song from victorious.because I recently just restarted it and the song got my attention and i haven't stopped making scenario so here we are with me writing this fic.

You and mapi had been going out together for a while now. especially with you getting called up for the team this season.meaning you both could practice and spend more time together. But recently you've noticed she gotten distant with you but didn't think much of it.

Until she she texted you out of nowhere wanting to break up no explanation or reasoning. You've never felt confused and heartbroken like that before especially when the near end of your season came.

At practice you'd both ignore each other unless you were paired up together for practices game or at matches.

where you'd both need to communicate otherwise no words would be uttered to another. Not until a fellow teammate Lucy had mentioned something.

about new transfers joining in the team . you had no worries cause you've already renewed your contract with the team.

for another two years which was yet to be announced . Nobody really knew about you and mapi. Cause most of the time you and mapi would always flirt and touch each other consensual.

Has spanish people are very affectionate with one another. So no one really thought about it.

but it did go noticed by a few teammates how you both had suddenly stopped interacting that much. Which they planned a get together for the whole team to bound and everything.

sadly you hadn't been able to attend due to your break and you booking a flight to spend time with a few friends from england and to focus more on yourself.

You hadn't been really on social media that much , only on there to post photos dumps of your trip or doing mini tiktoks with friends.

So you don't really know what going on between your teammates back at spain.

but you didn't bear anything in mind and just enjoyed your vacation .

Until that had recently come to an end and it was time for you too get back to spain. You had recently joined back to regular training with the team. it hadn't been a surprise has your renewal was already announced.

You'd already get along with everyone and the new comers getting to know each other and doing small talk. It hadn't been until you'll notice mapi talking to a browned hair girl with light blue eyes .

You've heard that they started talking a while back and recently became official. Angry couldn't even describe what you were feeling, begin able to match the pieces together which was able to explain the distance between you and mapi .and how your relationship went downfall.

It all made sense, you felt hurt betrayed and most definitely used like a recycling bin. If your day couldn't go any worse after crying in the bathroom.

pretending you were okay. Alexia and Irene had planned a get together at a karaoke club bar for all you women.

to get along and know each other and too have fun in general has the team would be having a busy and long week. You couldn't decline the invite.

But had a very tempting idea to get back at mapi. At the karaoke bar everyone was having fun, drinking, dancing and much more. Lucy had spotted you having begin the one to notice the distance between you and mapi

; you've been staring at both of them for a while now said lucy ; you just looked at her and back at them without giving her a reply and just moved up to the stage choosing a song and grabbing the mic.

You had it all

The day you told me, told me you want me

I had it all

But let you fool me, fool me completely

Yeah, I was so stupid

To give you all my attention

'Cause the way you played me' *you said while pointing at mapi *

Exposed your true intentions

And one day

I'll have you begging on your knees for me

Yeah, one day

I'll have you crawling like a centipede

You messed with me' (pointing at yourself)

And messed with her (pointing at Ingrid )

So I'll make sure you get what you deserve

Yeah, one day

You'll be begging on your knees for me

So, watch your back *you get down the stage )

'Cause you don't know when or where I could get you

I've set the trap

And when I'm done, then you'll know what I've been through

So, oh, "Ms. Player"

Do you feel like the man now?

And I bet you're nervous

'Cause this song makes you freak out

And one day

I'll have you begging on your knees for me

Yeah, one day

I'll have you crawling like a centipede

You messed with me

And messed with her ( you said while grabbing Ingrid by her arm and placing it around your shoulder while pointing at her *)

So I'll make sure you get what you deserve

Yeah, one day

You'll be begging on your knees for me

I know I'm being bitter

But I'mma drag you under

'Cause you just don't, don't deserve happy ever after

For what you did to me

After you told me you'd never felt that way

It was only just a game

And one day

And one day

I'll have you begging on your knees for me (begging on your knees for me)

Yeah, one day

Yeah, one day

I'll have you crawling like a centipede (crawling like a centipede)

You messed with me

And messed with her

So I'll make sure you get what you deserve

You'll be begging on your knees for me

You finished by setting the mic down and ; yelling I'll fucking get you back léon;

joining the rest of the girls by dancing and continuing your night drinking and having fun.

While mapi had the look of shock trying to process everything or to get words out of her mouth.

Her friend group around her just gave out a look of disappointment while most of them just laughed at the look of horror she has on her face.

A/n : finally wrote something after not writing for a few months now 😀 I'm happy with how this turned out a lil bit , if you have any ideas for a p2 feel free to share it also wrote this in one sitting so they might be mistakes and of course I'm always happy to get feedbacks .

[cieloclercs]

Could you do a Oscar Piastri x verstappen!youngersister

secret glances, eyes talk of love — oscar piastri

pairings: oscar piastri x verstappen!reader

warnings. started out as fluff but it sort of turned into angst along the way?? not like superrr angsty but it’s definitely sad vibes

word count. 1.2k

author’s note. hi anon! thank you so much for the request <3 i loved writing this concept! ps, i’d definitely be open to doing a part 2 if anyone is interested 👀

Decked out in a Red Bull jacket and cap, it's a wonder no one outside the McLaren garages notices you. Maybe you've grown so used to sneaking around that it now comes as second nature. It's been like this since the start of the season: the secret kisses in quiet corners, making up excuses to get away from the Red Bull garage (and your over-protective brother), and, of course, your fair share of close calls. You aren't exactly inconspicuous in the paddock. There are eyes following you almost everywhere you go — but over time, you've learnt to avoid them. You can only thank your lucky stars no one seems to have caught on yet.

Sometimes you wish it didn't have to be this way; that you could be like any other normal couple on the grid. Kiss him when he triumphs, comfort him when he falls. The feeling can grow intense, especially after a day like today. You have to watch him on the podium like any other supposedly indifferent onlooker, pretending that your cheers are only for your brother on the top step. Oscar's first top-three finish in Formula 1 (albeit in a sprint race) is by no means insignificant, and all you want to do is pull him into you over the railing and kiss him. But you can't. Not here, not with your brother and father, and the whole world watching. You've already agreed that keeping your relationship a secret is best for the both of you. Yet that doesn't stop you from wishing for more.

Instead, you’re left to sneak into his driver’s room as soon as your brother’s back is turned. He’s caught up in the media pen, chatting with Charles. Another thing you’ve learnt over the past six months is never to miss an opportunity when it presents itself – this is as good as any you’ll ever find, because Max is talkative at the best of times, but even more so when his childhood rival is around. You leave them somewhere between ‘safety car restart’ and ‘left-hand tyre degradation’. He won’t even notice you’re gone.

Oscar is halfway out of his suit when you arrive. His back faces you, covered only by his white fireproofs. You can see every move of his muscles beneath them. You murmur a soft greeting as you step into the room and close the door behind you, heart lifting to see him turn to you and grin. To the world, you know Oscar will appear calm and level-headed about his result – but with you, in private, he’s as happy as a puppy dog being given his favourite treat.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” You whisper into his shoulder as he wraps you up into a hug. “You drove so well.”

His lips curve upwards, and you feel it against the skin of your neck. Oscar’s hands fall instinctively to your hips when you pull away, rubbing slow circles that he probably doesn’t realise leave burning trails against your flesh. You loop your arms around his broad shoulders, playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck, just as he likes. He lets out a contented sigh.

“I panicked at the restart.” Oscar smiles down at you sheepishly. You roll your eyes. It’s typical of him – always so critical, even when he’s just produced one of the best rookie performances in Formula 1 for years. Sometimes you wish he could see himself the way you see him. Then maybe he’d celebrate a little harder, look a little prouder when things finally start paying off for him. It’s not that he isn’t confident – but Oscar’s confidence is the quiet, self-assured kind. Sometimes you just wish he would shout from the rooftops about how incredible he is: because if you can’t do it, then you need someone to.

“It doesn’t matter.” You tell him firmly, “No one was going to be able to hold off that rocket ship. Not even you.”

He giggles at the term. It’s such a lovely sound, you think. Your favourite in the entire world.

“D’you think you can get him to slow down a bit? Give the rest of us a chance?” Oscar asks, arching an eyebrow mischievously. You grin back, a little reluctant to shake your head.

“I wish I could, but he’s just not wired that way.” You sigh. It morphs into a giggle when he grips your waist tighter, pulling you into his chest. You look up, and he’s already gazing down at you expectantly. His hair is still a little sweaty from his balaclava, but you find you like it that way. He has the cutest little ringlet sticking out from the rest of his relatively tame curls. You fight the urge to tug on it.

“You still haven’t given me a kiss.” Oscar remarks with another cheeky raise of his eyebrows. He leans forward, puckering his lips the slightest bit, and you laugh, louder this time.

“You’re such a dork.” You snort. But you press your lips to his anyway. Somehow, they always taste like some kind of citrus fruit – what exactly you can’t put your finger on. It overwhelms you, clouding your mind and your senses, making your knees weak. They’re soft too, his lips, like pillows. You can feel him smile into your mouth, swallowing your soft sighs. It’s not fair, you think, that a person can make you feel this way with just a kiss; not fair that you’re grappling at his shoulders for support, afraid your knees are going to give out if you don’t. He never lets you fall though. His arms are always there, pulling you in, crowding you against the wall, in your hair, all over your body, lighting every inch of it on fire.

Then there’s a knock on the door, and the spell is broken.

You turn towards the sound, breathing heavily. Oscar glances at you, with a look that reads keep quiet. He clears his throat, calling through to whoever is stood outside his driver’s room.

“What is it?” he croaks.

There’s some shuffling from the other side of the door. Then: “Uh – Team meeting in ten minutes.” The person says. Oscar calls back some kind of affirmation, but you don’t hear it. That feeling is back. The one where you long not to hide in secrecy. It’s so unfair that he makes you feel so safe, so loved, and you can’t even show it to the rest of the world. You want people to know that he’s yours.

“You ok?” Oscar asks after a beat of silence. Your eyes find his, and you nod. I will be, maybe, you think. You want to tell him that you’re sick of hiding, but you’re not sure how he’ll take it. You both have a lot at stake. What if he can only love you in secret, never in front of the world?

He kisses you goodbye, and you allow yourself to believe that’s not the case. Oscar isn’t shy about his affections – he’s soft and he’s clingy and his eyes when he looks at you are full of love. They’re your own reflected straight back at you. One day you’ll walk into the paddock, and it’ll be with his hand in yours. You swear it.

But if he doesn’t want that, a life in the shadows is surely better than a life without him.

[jojojoy1]

I thought I lost you- Lando Norris

Lando Norris x reader

A/N: so this isn't on my wip list but I got some inspiration to write and 4 hours and 1.1k words later I have this, enjoy.

Sunday. You loved Sundays, getting to see Lando race, getting to experience the joy with him. You also dreaded Sundays though. The fear and the worry doesn't disappear no matter how many races you attend.

Lando was just about to get in the car, helmet on and focused. Just before he stepped into the cockpit, you grabbed his hand.

"Be careful out there. I need you back here in one piece." You kissed his helmet, leaving a lipstick stain. You couldn't see Lando's whole face, but you could see in his eyes that he was smiling.

"I'm always careful." He said in his usual cheery voice, hands on your waist as yours rested on his chest.

"Just be extra careful, okay? I love you." Your tone changed slightly, clearly worrying.

"Hey, I'll be careful, don't worry. I love you too."

After that Lando was hurried into the car, no longer in your arms, no longer right next to you. You were normally quite calm at races, but something was different. You had this gut feeling telling you something was going to go wrong.

The start of the race was smooth sailing. Lando had made up a few places and there had been no red or yellow flags so far. But you still couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

That's when your whole world came crashing down on top of you. You didn't know how to react, so you didn't. You sat there in complete shock and fear. The words of David Croft replaying in your mind: Lando Norris and George Russell have hit each other. Norris has flipped, he's spun straight into the wall.

The car had spun into the wall upside-down, with Lando inside. Your Lando. Your World. Your everything. And there was nothing you could do but sit there and wait. It felt like time had stopped but was moving rapidly all at once.

No message had come through on Lando's radio. No indication of if he was okay. The waiting killed you. Watching the screens as the marshals ran to help him.

You wanted to move, you wanted to run to him. You wanted to scream and shout. You wanted to cry. But you couldn't. You couldn't move, you couldn't scream and you couldn't even cry. You were frozen.

A frantic shaking had brought you out of your trance. It was Carlos. He seemed out of breath, as though he got out of his car and ran directly to you.

"Are you okay, cariño?"

You tried to speak, the words on the tip of your tongue, but nothing came out. Carlos immediately knelt down to the height of the chair you were sitting on and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug. His hands started stroking your hair soothingly. The first tear fell onto his shoulder as Carlos whispered comforting words into your ear. Suddenly, you were a train wreck, going from zero to a hundred in a second.

Carlos pulled away to look at the screens still showing Lando's wreck. Your eyes followed to see that Lando had been pulled from the car and was being taken to the ambulance on a stretcher.

"I need to go with him." You blurted out, the first thing to leave your mouth since the start of this nightmare. You arose from the chair hastily, however, your legs felt like they had disappeared from beneath you and you tumbled. Carlos caught you, enveloping your legs in his arms as he was still crouched down. He helped you sit back down and held your hands before he started talking.

"Y/n, you're in no state to go anywhere right now."

"I need to be with him, Carlos." You pleaded with the man in front of you.

"Then I'll come with you, cariño."

"But the race. When it restarts-"

"I'm coming with you." Carlos interrupted your frantic excuses. He didn't care about the race anymore. His best friend just got into a horrific crash and was in the hospital and you were having, what could only be described as, a breakdown.

"Thank you." You whispered as Carlos stood up, pulling you to your feet and helping you find your balance.

Carlos drove you both to the hospital. Your anxiety through the roof at this point. Leg bouncing up and down. Hands fidgeting. Shifting in your seat constantly.

When you arrived the nurses told you: He's in surgery, you'll have to wait.

So you waited. And waited. And waited.

Four hours later, a doctor entered the deserted waiting room. "Are you two here for Mr Norris?"

Your head shot up. "Is he okay?"

"Why don't you come and look for yourself."

The doctor led you to Lando's room. He was asleep on the bed. He looked peaceful and the parts of his body that weren't covered in a blanket looked virtually untouched, like the crash had never happened.

"I'll leave you two with him. There's a button you can press to alert a nurse if anything is wrong."

"Thank you." You and Carlos both thanked the doctor and entered the room.

You sat down on the chair next to Lando, Carlos at the foot of the bed. You carefully held his hand as the floodgates reopened. You couldn't control the tears. Seeing Lando laying in a hospital bed is not what you had expected when you woke up this morning.

You rested your forehead against his chest, feeling him breath and hearing his heart beating. You continued to sob in the nearly silent room, so overwhelmed by the events of today.

You felt a very soft squeeze, really it was a tap, to your hand. You lifted your head from Lando's chest to see his eyes just barely open. A cute, cheeky smiled adorned his face.

"Hi." He croaked out in a faint, weak voice.

"Hi." You smiled through the tears at Lando. Admiring his beautiful eyes you thought you'd never gaze into again. Feeling his soft curls you thought you'd never run your fingers through again. Cherishing his pink lips you thought you'd never kiss again.

Your hand reached up to tangle in his hair, your eyes following the movement. "I thought I lost you." You whispered, if you could even called it that. You could barely hear yourself, but Lando heard you.

"You can't get rid of me that easily." He laughed, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"I love you." You spoke softly, relief washing over you.

"I love you too." You lent down and gently pressed you lips against Lando's, trying to memorise how he felt and tasted.

"I love you too, Lando. Do I get a kiss?" Carlos spoke up from the foot of the hospital bed.

"Obviously. Get over here."

[lovingseventeen]

can you do svt crying in front of you for the first time? (established relationship) 🥺

svt crying in front of you for the first time ✧˖*°࿐

a/n: the occasional mild angst, some are less serious than others. also sorry this took a bit, sometmes it's so easy to write for all 13 of them but other times i feel like i'm stretching ideas thin.. so i wanted to try to make this as good as i could .. i hope you enjoyed!

seungcheol:

○ it was after an argument with the members

○ really, it was just something stupid that got blown out of proportion and everyone went home with a hot head. he didn’t say much when he got home to you and you could sense that something was off

○ you decided not to hover around him and just let him come to you and vent if he wanted to

○ up until he was on the couch and you saw him check his messages and angrily throw his phone. you flinched at the sound but you also softened when you saw him angrily wipe his eyes

○ “hey.. what’s wrong?” you asked softly, carefully placing a hand on his arm

○ he just sat down and you followed. soon after, he lays down to put his head in your lap, voice muffled by his hands covering his face. “just something stupid” he sighed

○ instinctively, you start running your fingers through his hair bc you know it soothes him. you don’t say much to him in these moments but you’re glad you can help him calm down when he’s so upset (10 mins later you realize he’s fallen asleep while you trace your fingers)

jeonghan:

○ it was after an argument between the two of you

○ words were thrown around and he was being far too nonchalant and somehow that made you even more irritated

○ " i don't even know about this anymore!" you spit out

○ you'd never looked at him like that either. it's like he unlocked this new level of disappointment and he wondered if he could come back from it

○ "is this it, then?" he said, voice still far too quiet for the emotions that were running rampant in the room

○ angry and hurt tears fell from his eyes but he wouldn't break eye contact with you

○ he didn't want this to end, and he really didn't want this image of you to be the lasting one in his mind if it did

○ you softened, looking away, "i don't want it to be"

○ a small wave of relief washed over him, he could still hold onto you. he walked over to you to gently hold your hand, one that was crossed over your chest

○ "i don't want it either." you let him pull you into him

○ "can we please restart this conversation? i'm sorry it got here" he whispers into your hair

○ you embrace him back "yeah, i'm sorry too"

joshua:

○ he's a bit of an empath

○ you were crying during a movie so in the end, so was he NYDSDHSJ

○ "darling.." he says softly, heart aching over the sight of tears running down your face

○ there wasn't much he could do but to let you cry it out and feel your emotions but he wasn't expecting himself to get so sad either

○ he just wraps an arm around you, running a soothing hand up and down your back

○ he tries to look back at the movie but every sniffle and hiccup from you makes him turn back to you

○ when you notice his eyes blotchy too, it almost makes you stop altogether

○ "you're crying too, josh?"

○ "can't really help it when you're crying, baby" he chuckles, as both of you dab each other's tear's away with your own sleeves

○ "we're being a little silly right now, huh?" you slightly laugh

○ he does his little signature eye crinkle with a little snort, "maybe we are"

jun:

○ it was when he sprained his ankle pretty badly dancing and he was told to take a rest for two weeks

○ inevitably, it felt like the world was turning without him and that he wouldn't be able to keep up when he returned

○ you caught him trying to watch over a dance practice and following along in your living room

○ all was alright up until he put too much weight on his injury and fell over, landing on his bum

○ "ah, shit" he cringed, getting up to drop himself on the couch

○ "aren't you supposed to be resting, hm?" you asked gently, sitting down next to him

○ he leaned forward, placing his head in his hands, "yeah" followed by a sniffle

○ "you know the rest will let you come back and dance even better, right?" you asked gently

○ " i know, but i just want to keep up"

○ "darling you'll be able to make it up easily, you're literally the best" you encouraged

○ "you're just saying that because i'm your boyfriend" he mumbled into his hands

○ "not just because of that" you assured, wrapping your arms around his middle, "but because you're just that amazing"

hoshi:

○ he didn’t want you to find out that he was an emotional drunk. but of course, this was also kind of inevitable

○ one of the boys had texted you asking if you could pick him up after they all had a bit to drink while filming

○ by the time you drove your car up to the hybe building entrance, hoshi was waiting with an arm slung around mingyu’s shoulders (mingyu had an arm around his waist). anyone passing by would think that they were dating

○ “thanks for coming by, y/n” mingyu says, half carrying hoshi into the passenger seat and buckling him in. “any time” you laughed

○ you drove for a little bit in silence as you assumed that hoshi fell asleep. but suddenly you heard your name called out in a small voice

○ “what is it bub?”

○ a deep inhale. “myungho said i wasn’t a tiger”

wonwoo:

○ he didn't cry often in general, so you never really saw it

○ both of you were surprised when it was when he first heard circles

○ "woozi sent this over to me and said it's what he's always wanted to say so i wonder what it is"

○ he places his phone down on the table as you both listen to it

○ you're watching him more than you're listening

○ wonwoo himself is caught off-guard when he finds himself trying to hold his face back from frowning

○ suddenly his breathing is a little heavier as he's trying to control this heavy lump in his throat

○ it's by the second chorus that the tears start falling and you only reach over to hold his hand

○ he can't stop the tears by now so all he can do is wipe them away with the end of his sweater

○ you both wait for the song to finish (you yourself had to hold back from watching your boyfriend cry) and just sit in silence a little after

○ "it was beautiful" you say

○ a chuckle. "yeah it really was"

woozi:

○ it happened rarely, but rarely doesn’t mean never 

○ he couldn’t come up with new ideas for his music 

○ you visited him at his studio, but little did you know it was his nth hour of replaying the same clips over and over to jog his brain 

○ “i brought you something~~” you announced as you closed the door behind you 

○ he was hunched over his laptop, barely acknowledging your presence 

○ you knew this was unusual, so you made your way towards him, setting the food you brought down on a table 

○ when you sat next to him, he turned his face away but you didn’t miss the deep and slightly broken inhale he took 

○ immediately you’re filled with worry. “what’s wrong?” you ask, reaching to give his knee a squeeze 

○ “i’m gonna ruin our next album i can’t come up with anything” 

○ “hey,” you said softly, “hey, you know that’s not true” 

○ he finally turned to you with a stray tear falling down. he didn’t say anything out of fear of just crying more 

○ “how about this,” you offer, “have you taken a break?” he shakes his head. 

○ “have you maybe asked some of the other guys for help?” yet another head shake. 

○ “have you left this room in the last 48 hours- not including the bathroom!” you clarified, this finally made him laugh. 

dokyeom:

○ it was during a movie (bless his heart) 

○ it wasn’t even a particularly sad one, it was actually quite the opposite 

○ something about a child reuniting with their parents after being lost for so long and it touched your heart too

○ though it surprised you to look at your boyfriend hurriedly wiping tears away from his eyes 

○ maybe you fell in love with him a little more, “you okay?” you asked, pressing a kiss to his cheek

○ he sniffled but smiled nonetheless, “yeah, ‘m just happy they found each other again” 

mingyu:

○ it was after a particularly grueling day of practice

○ his body couldn't seem to keep up with the complicated choreography and he was missing half of his marks

○ the other members were making jokes at his expense with no malice whatsoever, but little did they know they were hitting a little deeper that day

○ during one of their breaks he checked his phone

○ i'm in the area getting lunch, do you want me to drop off something? you texted

○ yes please, he replied, texting a simple order

○ when you arrived at the hybe building, he met you in one of the quieter spaces meant for employee lounging so he could talk to you for a few minutes, you did come all the way

○ "hi baby" he greeted, so so glad to see you

○ "hi gyu," you smiled, but something in your gut told you something was off, "you okay?"

○ for a moment you saw his smile falter, but he quickly tried to mask it again. "yeah i'm fine, the new dance is just kinda hard"

○ you didn't want to press too much further so you just reached up to cup his cheek, "i trust that you'll get it gyu, i really do"

○ he sees how genuinely you believe your words through your eyes and this is enough to make him smile but not enough to let him fully hold back a tear

○ you wipe it away and he leans into your touch

minghao:

○ you were partaking in a little tea ceremony with him

○ maybe there was something in the air that day, the weather was beautiful, warm, but not enough to make you sweat, a simple breeze passing through

○ he snuck a peak at you sitting across from him while you were meditating

○ he was hit with a sudden sense of fulfillment

○ there you were, putting your utmost focus into something he cared about and he just felt so happy

○ your face looked so relaxed as the gentle sunshine made your skin look like it was glowing

○ since the two of you think alike, you snuck a peek at him too and caught him wiping a tear away

○ "are you okay, hao?"

○ "just happy" he smiled

seungkwan:

○ it was after one of their tours and seungkwan had been away for 3 months

○ you had started dating a month before the tour even started so he was concerned that he was leaving you too soon

○ would you still like him when he came back? what if your met someone who you could be with more often?

○ so on his day back, his stomach was flipping in excitement and in anxiety. he missed you so much, but what if you realized you didn’t miss him?

○ while he unlocks your apartment, he takes a deep breath, preparing himself to accept whatever comes

○ when he opens the door he sees you (with a biggest smile on your face) with a small cake in your hands that says “welcome home my boo!”

○ there’s also some balloons decorating your living room and he just can’t believe you did all of this

○ “y/n” is all he can say, unsure of what he could to convey how much his heart was swelling

○ “welcome home, baby” you smiled, placing the cake down to make your way to him

○ his arms opened up to you like second nature, quick to wrap around your middle to pull you close to him

vernon:

○ dang it's really hard to come up with a scenario where vernon might cry

○ either it has to be a genuinely tragic moment or something kind of random (like him)

○ maybe he was trying to cook or something and rubbed a pepper in his eye because he forgot he held it with his bare hands

○ "babe i need help" you hear from the kitchen

○ there you see your precious boyfriend with his eyes squinted and a little red, not knowing what to do with his hands

○ "what happened?"

○ "rubbed the pepper into my eye.."

○ "ah" you nod, quickly wetting a paper towel to dab at his eyes that are watering

○ pls his hands are still out as he tries not to touch anything else so he looks a little silly

○ "you're trying not to laugh aren't you" he mutters, barely able to open his eyes

○ "no" you deadpan

○ "you can't be mean like this, y/n" he pouts and frowns. if you didn't have the context of the pepper you'd really think you hurt his feelings

○ (lowkey curse him for looking kinda good even if he's crying)

○ "uh huh, poor you" you scoff, making sure to wipe his hands too

dino:

○ cried because drunk you wouldn't get into the damn car (funny how karma hit him after doing the same exact thing to jeonghang)

○ "but i wanna party some more!" you whined, barely able to stand up by yourself

○ he's struggling to carry you as you randomly drop your weight

○ he doesn't know if the tears coming from his eyes are from laughing at your state or genuine frustration that this is so hard

○ the two of you end up plopping on the pavement next to your car as your legs have magically decided to stop working

○ "baby please, my love, my darling, the love of my life, get into the car" he practically begs

○ "but i barely got to drink!"

○ "but you've drank too much!" he half-argues, he finds himself almost losing it because why is he arguing with a drunk person?

○ "honey, please" he even goes to the extent of clasping his hands together, "let's go home"

○ suddenly drunk you decides to bargain

○ "will you buy me ice cream"

○ "baby i would buy a store's entire stock just for you to get into the car"

○ your drunken self softened at this, "you would?" by this, you're also tearing up

○ "okay chan, i'll get in the car"

○ he's thanking the heavens as he helps you up and eventually fastens your seatbelt.

○ but you do make up for things when you mumble what sounds like an 'i love you' before you proceed to pass out in the passenger seat

○ (he still stops by a convenience store to buy you ice cream even as you snooze)

[vivwritesfics]

Shine A Light Into The Wreckage

Chapter One - Spilled Coffee

Bob Floyd was many things. He was an instructor at Top Gun, a lover of Tolkien books and a huge fan of coffee. But Bob was also clumsy. That was how he bumped into the table, knocking her drink onto her notebook.

He felt bad about it. Bad enough to come back time and time again, in the hopes that she would be there. And, every time, she is. Each time looking a little worse for wear. It doesn't take Bob long to realise he has to save her.

1.9K

Warnings: Abusive relationship! Abusive hair pulling! Abusive slight choking! Forceful sex! Seriously don't read if you're affect by stuff like this

Okay so one day I was reading Stiff Competition by @roosterforme and the next day I was writing this and I haven't stopped since

Series Masterlist

Bob Floyd was a coffee man. It had started at the end of high school, when he used to wake up early to study. It continued on when he joined the navy. 

Through his first stint in Top Gun, Bob would go on regular coffee runs. They took it in turns, always going on their own and challenging each other to carry as many coffees as possible.  

It was a habit that Bob had kicked after Top Gun. He knew it was a bad habit, relying on coffee to wake up. So, he stopped.

But then he was once again at Top Gun. After graduating once, he was back again. And, once again, the coffee runs restarted. Bob redeveloped his habit for a cappuccino with chocolate sprinkles on the top. From the first sip, he couldn't remember why he had given it up.

Even after that mission, Bob stayed in California. The man from Montana stayed at Top Gun, becoming an instructor, along with Natasha Trace and Jake Seresin. Rooster returned to Virginia, said he had a girl out there. The rest of the squad returned home or were stationed overseas. It wasn't the easiest to keep up with. 

The coffee runs continued. This time, with just himself, Nat, and Jake, the coffee runs were a lot easier. Especially when the barista put the takeaway cups with one of those cup holders meant for four. 

The coffee runs changed every day. One day Nat would go. And then Jake would. And then Bob. Always one at a time, always in that order. 

Whenever Bob was on the coffee run, he looked around the café. His eyes moved from table to table, looking at the people sat there. An older couple drinking coffees by the large window, a teenager eating a sandwich with headphones covering his eyes and people on their lunch break. One at the back of the café tapped away at her computer keyboard, periodically taking a break to sip at her drink. The other sat at the table by the door, her bag on the other seat as she scribbled away in her notebook, a full mug of coffee beside it. 

Bob didn't make any other observations as he collected his coffee and turned to leave. He had both hands on the cup holder as he turned to leave the café. 

He wasn’t clumsy. Well, he sort of was. Making a mess at the hard deck while ate peanuts, that time he accidentally hit Bradley in the stomach with the pool cue. 

But Bob couldn’t deny his clumsiness when he hit the edge of her table. Maybe if his hands weren’t full, he could have caught her drink before it fell over. 

A gasp left her lips as it spilled over her notebook, staining the pages brown. The writing on it was indistinguishable beneath the coffee. 

But that wasn't what this young woman cared about, not at first. She stood as she furiously wiped off her pencil skirt. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He cried, grabbing the napkin that sat under her glass. But the napkin was already soiled. 

Bob jumped into action. He put his coffees down onto her table and rushed to grab the napkin dispenser from the counter. "I'm so sorry!" He cried, grabbing napkins  and helping her to wipe off her skirt. 

But when the water stopped scalding, she stopped wiping at her skirt. Instead she dabbed the napkins at her notebook as a frustrated sigh left her lips. "Let me get you another drink," he said as he threw the used napkins in the bin. 

She shook her head at him. "No, I've got to get back to work," she muttered as she picked up her bag. She slung it over her shoulder and tucked her ruined notebook beneath her arm. 

"I'm sorry!" Bob called as he watched her disappear from the café. 

***

She sat at her desk, inspecting the darker grey patch on her skirt. It had been new, bought just the weekend before. But she didn’t much care about her skirt. That could be replaced. Sure, she'd have to take out money she didn’t have for a new one, but it was just a skirt. 

Her notebook was in front of her computer, months of work stained with coffee. The coffee had smudged her writing, making it unintelligible. It wasn't just the top pages, wasn’t just her most recent piece of writing. It was everything. 

Almost all of her writing was gone. 

Frustration ran through her. Frustration and then sadness. She couldn’t bring herself to be angry at the military man. It hadn't been his fault, really. 

But her writing was gone. It was months, years, of work. Her only way of escape and, within a matter of seconds, it was gone. 

As she sat through her shift, she tried to salvage what she could, making notes of the plot points she could remember. Tomorrow, when she went to the café, she could rebuild. This time she could spend all day there, not needing to run off to her job. 

It wasn’t easy to concentrate on her day job as she wrote down what little she could remember from her stories. But, too soon her day job was over. She still didn’t put her sopping wet, coffee stained notebook in her bag as she got ready to go. "See you Monday," she said to one of her co-worker as she pulled her jacket over her blouse and placed her bag on her shoulder. 

With her notebook on her arm, she took off. She looked down at her shoes as she rode the elevator down to the ground floor of the building she worked in. 

The elevator arrived at the ground floor far too quickly. She sucked in a breath, held her notebook against her chest and walked out of the building. Each step she took was heavy, as if her feet were reluctant to take her home. 

But her apartment building was far too close to her place of work. She opened the door and started up the dimly lit staircase, up to the top floor. Around her the yellow wallpaper was cracked and peeling. 

She missed the step ready to collapse in on itself and avoided the suspicious damp patch on the carpeted top of the stairs and pushed open the door to her apartment. 

"Hey, Ken," she said to her boyfriend, the man she shared her apartment with. Kenneth Johnson hadn't been called Kenneth since he was a boy. He went by Kenny to his friends or more importantly, Ken.

 She placed her notebook on the sofa, her bag on top of it, and hung her jacket on the back of the door. 

"Hey, Barbie," he said in a way she hated. It had been a joke back in high school - his name was Ken so, obviously, she was Barbie. "I cooked you dinner." 

*SERIOUSLY IF YOU'RE AFFECTED BY ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIPS I'D STOP READING HERE*

She looked at the small, round table in the middle of their kitchen. 'Cooked' wasn’t exactly the word she would have used to describe the half eaten microwave dinner on the table. "Ken, where's the rest of it?" She asked, her voice light. Almost as if she was talking to child. 

The smile dropped from his face as he yanked open the fridge. "Can't you just be grateful, for once?" He growled as he opened his can of something (she didn’t look up, didn't see what he was drinking as she ate what he had left of her dinner). "I make you dinner and you just want more of it."

She ate in silence, finishing her food quickly. When she was done, she cleaned both hers and Ken's plate away. 

As soon as she was standing up and walking to the sink, Ken looked at her up and down. "What the fuck happened to the skirt I just bought for you?" He asked as he clenched his can. His grip was so tight his can crumpled, liquid spilling everywhere. 

"C'mon Ken. It was just a little spill. It's gonna wash out before Monday."

The still full can clattered to the floor, spilling beer everywhere. "It doesn't matter that it will wash out," he said, keeping his voice calm. "What matters is that you're pissing away my hard earned cash!" 

"Ken-"

Suddenly he was in her face, fingers wrapping around her hair and pulling her up. An involuntary cry left her lips and she dropped the dishes back into the sink. "Don't talk back to me," he growled, voice low. His hand snaked around her throat, but he didn't apply pressure. Not yet. "Don't ever talk back to me."

Gulping, she nodded as best she could with the way he held her. And then he let go of her hair, but he didn’t release her neck. "You know I hate doing that, baby," he whispered, stroking her cheek. It didn’t matter how gentle his touch was, it was still searing. 

There was nothing she could do but whimper as he walked her out of the kitchen, leaving the mess of the dishes and the spilt beer.

She walked willingly to the bedroom. But really, how willing is it when you fear so much for your safety?

When Ken told her to strip and get onto the bed, she did just that. "Throw this out, I can’t have you looking like a slob," he said as she stepped out of her skirt. 

"Kenny," she started to say. But, suddenly she was on the bed, laying on her stomach. "Ken, please-"

But Kenneth Johnson wasn't listening to what his girlfriend had to say. He held her body down, hand on the back of her neck as he pulled her underwear down.

He freed himself from his trousers and pushed his cock through her folds. 

There was a time where they weren't like this, a time where they really were in love. Back in high school, back when she didn't mind being Barbie and Ken, he was sweet. He brought flowers and chocolates to her while she worked weekends. He visited her regularly when she went out of state for college and moved with her to San Diego.

It was a few months after they moved to San Diego together that Ken changed. It was a few months after they moved in together that his true colours began showing. 

She didn't cry anymore. There was no point when it didn't get him to stop. 

She laid there until he came and rolled off of her. Kenny laid in the bed and rolled away from her. Still, she didn’t move. She stayed until light snores left his lips. 

Only then did she climb off of the bed. She climbed into the shower that hadn't yet heated up and scrubbed her body. Hidden in an empty tub of body lotion was birth control. Birth control that Kenny wouldn't let her take. But she couldn’t have his baby, she just couldn't.

After cleaning up the mess left in the kitchen and scrubbing at the stain in her shirt, she crawled into bed beside him, but she didn't sleep. 

[neil-gaiman]

Mr. Gaiman,

Have you ever had a piece that you've been working on for a while, but you've restarted it a lot? Every time I think what I'm doing is the right way to tell the story, I start doubting it, that people won't want to read it that way, or it's cutting out a lot of other things I want to put in. So then I start writing it a different way. I've finished it before, edited it, even started querying agents, but they didn't take to it, so I rewrote it, but now it just feels like everything I'm doing with it is wrong. Then I think about what you said about, I think it was The Graveyard Book, about how you had the idea for a long time, but you weren't a good enough writer yet to write it. I think maybe I'm not good enough to write this book, because I've rewritten it I think 8 times now, and every time I start working on another story, the same thing happens (although much more quickly than this main story I want to write). How do you get past this doubt that keeps rearing? (If this has ever happened to you)

Put it aside and stop writing it and start writing other things.

[mactavishwritings]

HEYYYYYY, HYWD?

I will beg for a: Gentle Dom! Price, Hard dom! Ghost or König and a Brat!Reader.

PLEASE, I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!

oh fuck dude you are speaking my language <33333

a lil nsfw 18+ only please <3

Gentle Dom!Price and Hard Dom!Ghost asking you to behave just for once. You sat in the meeting room, just the three of you when Price knelt down in front of you. "Be good today. This mission is important and you need to pay attention." you nodded, but then Ghost gripped your thigh tightly. You winced and Ghost leaned down to whisper in your ear. "Be. Nice." His voice was firm and stubborn, causing your back to stiffen.

During the meeting, Ghost had his hand kept on your thigh. It didn't stop you however because you started wiggling. Ghost's fingers dug into your thigh and you pushed yourself up to sit on your knees. You started doodling on your paper instead of taking notes, figuring that you could look over Soap's later. Price was giving you disappointed looks the entire time, knowing that you weren't paying attention like he had asked you two.

What made Ghost snap was when you leaned back and tossed a paper ball at Gaz, who giggled and tossed it back to you. Ghost's hand snapped out and grabbed the ball before grabbing your arm. "Enough." His voice was loud and direct, making Gaz jump. Not you though. You were used to this so you just made eye contact with the man like a challenge, your eyes were filled with such mischief that Ghost physically sat up to appear even bigger than normal.

Price approached the table, breaking up the staring contest to refocus you. Once he got you back, he continued the meeting making sure that Ghost had an arm around you to hopefully keep you in place.

After the meeting, Price dismissed Soap and Gaz. As soon as they left the room, Ghost immediately pinned you to the table and forced your arms around your back. you gasped at the sudden movement and fought back against Ghost’s strong hold, kicking your feet back in an attempt to fight back. Ghost was used to your antics by then so he pushed his chest against your back. Price sat across from you two, tablet in hand. "Be gentle this time with her, Simon. Need her fit and able for this mission." Price fiddled with his tablet while Ghost forced your pants down to your knees. "Don't worry, only enough to make sure she understands what she did wrong."

You cried out with each hit to your ass. Ghost held your arms with one hand while he delivered blows with his other hand. Price watched with a small smile, counting each hit with you, and would make Ghost restart every time you missed a count. Each hit would get harder and harder, making a loud clapping sound that almost drowned out your crying. Ghost smirked with each hit that he delivered, basking in your cries.

Price soon stood after putting the tablet on the table. "that's enough, Simon. Let's see how our baby is doing." You looked up at Price with big, teary eyes. Ghost rolled his eyes, but released you anyway. "The slut is just fine, John. You go too easy on her." Ghost pulled you up by your shirt, but left your pants down. "Was Simon too rough with you, angel?" You nodded, rubbing your eyes as Price inspected your bruised ass, rubbing your reddened cheeks. He took you in his arms and you stuck your tongue out at Ghost. "Meanie." You growled at Ghost and Price was quick to grab your chin. "Do not think that I won't bend you over this table myself and have my way with you." Price delivered a quick strike to your already sore ass and you sobbed loudly.

"I'm sorry!" You whined as Ghost came up to pull your pants up back to their normal place. Ghost kissed the top of your hair and tapped your ass lightly. "Be glad that he was here because if I got what I wanted, your pretty little ass would be black and blue. You hear that? So what do you say? Hm?" You tilted your chin back until you saw Ghost. "Thank you, Sir." Ghost hummed and Price pulled away. "Alright, you two, go train for a little bit. I want you on your best games for this mission."

[emotionsandphenomena]

young adult, new adult, and fantasy fiction: the audience of a book is who reads it

title clumsily based on the purpose of a system is what it does.

before we begin, I want to focus a bit on defining our terms. young adult, new adult, adult, science fiction/fantasy, speculative fiction, contemporary romance - all of the terms I will use in this post are created by marketing companies and readers, and all of them have fuzzy and subjective applicability to any given book. there is no objectivity in cataloging, which is the lens through which I approach knowledge organization projects like this. there is no definitive answer to what any given book or genre "is", because these categories are not fixed values. instead, their values are expanded and developed by what gets placed in which category, by whom, and what criteria they base that decision on. that's what I want to discuss.

to provide some context: debates over age categories and who is reading what books for which age ranges currently dominate discussions among publishers, authors, librarians, and readers. ages of characters in YA are skewing up, sales are slowing down. young adult as a category has existed for 50+ years, but it is currently undergoing some growing pains. here's one more article for good measure. new adult is a term created by the publishing industry in 2009, which developed in fits and starts despite multiple bestselling authors publishing under the category. oh well. in 2015, sarah j mass published her new book, a court of thorns and roses, which is widely regarded as a turning point for the popularity of new adult (more on the classification of ACOTAR itself in a moment). NA stalled out for many years, but has recently very quickly grown in popularity, especially for romance readers on booktok. some of the most popular books listed under new adult on goodreads are colleen hoover's it ends with us and it starts with us, ali hazelwood's check & mate, and rebecca yarros' fourth wing.

I want to look at two of these currently very popular authors as case studies to really dig into what new adult has come to mean.

in this 2014 interview, SJM discusses her currently running throne of glass series and the upcoming release of ACOTAR in 2015. she notes that the book is intended for "a slightly older YA crowd (aka steamy times ahead!)". earlier in the interview, she dodges a question about whether throne of glass will be YA or NA by saying she appreciates her teen and adult readers - if I had to guess, the label was still too new and publishers didn't want to alienate anyone. in 2023, I can't find anything on her website or bookseller sites that specifically identify the series (or any of her series) as YA, NA, or adult. however, Goodreads (which relies on user generated tags and is, to put it lightly, a mess wrt information organization) firmly classes ACOTAR as YA - almost 9k tags in young-adult and ya (lack of authority control is just one aspect of the mess), as opposed to about 3.5k new-adult. the thing is, though, ACOTAR comes up in essentially every blog post and article I read on the definition of new adult. it is a flashpoint in the discussion: it either did or didn't restart the term, it is or isn't too sexually explicit to be classed for teens, the writing is filled with young adult tropes and this does or does not matter. the answers to these questions aren't particularly important to me, but it's very interesting to see how people are attempting to draw those boundaries. I took a quick census of how SJM's series are classed in my library system. her throne of glass series is uniformly shelved in YA; ACOTAR is mostly YA with a few copies in adult, and her newer crescent city series is mostly adult with a few copies in YA. I do think that any discussion of ACOTAR is partially colored by this divisive relationship to the new adult category itself, so I'd also like to bring in a much newer book facing similar conversation.

if you follow this blog you might already know that I have an entirely non-neutral relationship to ali hazelwood; I love her books both as books and as cultural objects deserving of study. previously, she published three adult romance novels and a set of adult romance novellas, which all fall firmly and inarguably into those defined categories, based on age range and content (I have an argument for the love hypothesis being a horror story, but that's a different conversation). last year, she published her newest book, check & mate, as a young adult romance. it was widely marketed as such by the young readers imprint at putnam. however, on reading it, I (and many goodreads commenters) were surprised to find that it aligned more with some hallmarks of new adult. the characters are out of high school, and the challenges and growth moments are more focused on evolution, rather than coming of age. one blog post I read made the argument that YA is about high school firsts and NA is about adulthood firsts. this is amorphous, partially because there is no real one life path into adulthood by which to judge this, so let's switch focus to something more concrete: sex. in each of Ali's adult novels, there are a few explicit sex scenes. they're not as explicit as other romance novels, but they're definitely not fade-to-black. in check & mate, characters have sex, but it happens entirely off-screen and any discussion is fairly chaste or, at most, relying heavily on implied content. this is a real disconnect to me. much of NA lit (ACOTAR included) is quite sexually explicit. among those most popular NA books on goodreads, there are many books that get marketed specifically for their sexual content (spicy🌶️ to the tiktokers, smut to everyone else). to me, this cements check & mate as a YA novel - if she was going to write a book with explicit sex, like her others, she could've. she's mentioned in interviews that her chess novel concept originally featured older characters, and she aged them down once she realized what kind of story she wanted to tell. to me, it is telling that moving from adult to YA creates more clumsy caution around the handling of sex, as opposed to SJM, whose books "aged" upwards over time.

another interesting example I've noticed in the emerging NA space is how the age category intersects with genre. YA as a category has a pretty expansive genre playing field - we've all read YA fantasy, contemporary romance, historical fiction, action/adventure, issue novels, etc. NA so far seems pretty exclusively limited to romance as a main focus, especially in the most popular offerings as discussed above.

I've seen many a tiktok alleging that despite the drawn out fight scenes, extensive lore, and huge interconnected web of characters, the ACOTAR books are not "real fantasy." even more so for the fourth wing books. I've seen these books compared to Tolkien, as if to say, well, if you didn't invent a language, you're not really on the same level. that's entirely unfair, imo - plenty of fantasy doesn't engage at that level. but there is a wide array of contemporary fantasy I do think we can contrast with ACOTAR and other popular NA series.

we've discussed some of the hallmarks of YA and NA as categories: the age range of characters, coming of age, explicit sex for NA. i'd add fast-paced, immersive writing, especially in first person or close third, because so much of the appeal described on booktok is a book sucking you in completely. now, i want to bring up a few books that, on the surface, might check several of these boxes: dune by frank herbert has an 18yo protagonist, and the first book is very much a coming of age story. eragon (christopher paolini) and the name of the wind (patrick rothfuss) focus on a young person coming into their magical abilities through school/mentorship, a similar setting to many YA series. mistborn (brandon sanderson) and game of thrones (george r.r. martin) both have prominent protagonists that are 18 or younger when the story starts. of all these series, only eragon has young-adult as its most popular age-related tag on goodreads, and eragon was, at the time of release, very specifically marketed to and shelved in young adult in bookstores and libraries. some of these books have explicit or non-explicit sexual content, but only GOT has even close to as much as your average NA novel (to my knowledge).

i am not alleging that any of these books should be classed as YA, necessarily. but the glaring difference in their marketing and readership does point to one thing: these books are largely about men, and they are all written by men. i am not the first person to point out this gender gap in fantasy writing, and i don't have anything particularly new to say about it, except to bring it back around to my original point. none of these novels "are" adult fiction, and plenty (plenty!) of teenagers read them, in an interesting reversal of the trends in YA. who is making the decisions about where these books go, and why? what can we draw out about the books and their marketing? how is the future of "adult fantasy" shaped when these are the benchmarks by which we measure new entries?

i did also look into a few of my own favorite sci-fi series by women to see how they ranked by similar parameters. parable of the sower by octavia butler, featuring an 18yo protagonist and sexual content, has no age category at all in the top 20 most popular goodreads tags. it's in adult fiction in every library in my system that owns a copy. ive seen gideon the ninth (18yo protag, and yeah lets go ahead and say explicit sexual content) on YA shelves in bookstores, but its adult tag on goodreads is more popular, and almost every library in my system has it in adult. in my opinion, these books are important in rejecting the "women write YA, men write adult" narrative around speculative fiction, but they're not necessarily an exception to a different trend. it is not difficult for me to think of more adult scifi/fantasy books by women, because i actively seek them out. however, almost every single one of them has a protagonist under 25, as is the case with so much of the adult fantasy written by men listed above. last year, i read the adventures of amina al-sirafi, by s.a. chakrabotry, which was (i believe) the first non-contemporary/realistic fiction book ive ever read with a middle aged mother as the main protagonist. the book club at my library branch, mainly composed of middle aged and older women, read it, and expressed such genuine joy and excitement over a fantastic, adventurous book featuring a woman they saw themselves in. representation really does matter, and it matters to everyone, not just young people. but that's a different soapbox.

young readers are extremely picky. i've watched many a teenager (or younger) browse the YA section and turn up their noses at books with a cringey cover, an overly dramatic blurb, or just because. marketing books to teens is hard. booktok is an incredibly powerful marketing tool and divisive social force. it skyrockets an author one day and by the next week, other accounts are tearing that same author to shreds. in this environment, its no surprise that the sensationalized books - extremely good or extremely bad, blatantly sexual, shocking, consumable - become flashpoints of discussion. who should be reading ya? who is it for? what is inappropriate for young teenagers to read? what is inappropriate for adults to read? i think about these topics a lot, especially as what the publishing industry terms a "gatekeeper" - i'm a children's librarian; i control the access teenagers in my community have to these books. i take that role seriously, and i want to be thinking deeply about the books i put in my YA section and who will read them. our decisions, about where we class books, how we label and present them, how we discuss them: that is part of what dictates what genre and age classification a book "is", in addition to marketing.

[wavypotatochips]

i have something in my mind

could you write kylian having an important meeting but readers at home and she’s sick and she calls kylian but he doesn’t answer and when he comes home he sees her like she fainted or she’s very sick?i need some comfort kylian , 😊 thank you

𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | 𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐛𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Kylian Mbappe x Female Reader

Word Count : 1k

𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: Ugh I love 'comfort someone who is sick' scenarios, they are always so cute to me (': Thank you so much for requesting and I hope you like how I conveyed your idea ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚!!

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Request are temporarily unavailable, ILY mwah mwah ♥

You're lying in bed, feeling absolutely terrible. Your head is pounding, your nose is stuffy, and your body feels like it's on fire. You know you need more medicine to help with your fever, so you grab your phone to text your boyfriend, Kylian.

You type out a message asking him to bring you more medicine. You wait anxiously for a response, but none comes.

You start to feel frustrated and helpless. You're in so much pain, and you need his help, but you don't want to seem too needy as well. You try to distract yourself by watching TV or reading a book, but you can't focus on anything.

As time passes, you start to feel worse. You're so uncomfortable, and the pain seems to be getting worse. You decide to try texting Kylian again, hoping that he's finished with whatever he is doing and can come to your rescue.

But once again, there's no response. You feel like you're in agony, and you don't know what to do. You start to worry that something might be seriously wrong with you. You try to call Kylian, but his phone goes straight to voicemail.

You're feeling so alone and helpless, and it's making you even more anxious. You wish that you had someone to take care of you, but you know that Kylian is a very busy man and you don't want to bother him.

Meanwhile, Kylian is in a very important meeting with Nike, discussing a collaboration that could potentially skyrocket his career to new heights. The room is filled with executives, all intently focused on the discussion, their eyes trained on Kylian as he presents his ideas and strategies that he has been meticulously working on for months. He is confident and articulate, impressing everyone in the room with his creativity and expertise.

As the meeting reaches its final stages, Kylian's phone vibrates loudly on the table, interrupting the otherwise silent atmosphere. His phone is upside down, so he cannot see who is blowing up his notifications. He lets out a small laugh in front of the executives and reaches for his phone, apologizing for the interruption, and quickly silencing it.

As the meeting comes to an end, Kylian turns on his phone while walking back to the car. The notifications are coming in slowly since the phone has restarted, but he sees there are multiple missed calls and messages from you. He tries to call you back, but there is no answer. He feels a growing sense of concern, wondering what could be wrong. Kylian calls again, but there is still no answer. He starts to worry that something might be seriously wrong now and quickly gets into the car, practically speeding to the house you two share.

As Kylian drives, his mind races with all the possibilities of what could be wrong. He remembers that you mentioned feeling a bit under the weather starting last night,, but he didn't think it was anything serious. Now, he starts to wonder if he should have taken your symptoms more seriously. Before turning into the neighborhood, he is stopped by a red light, causing him to groan in frustration. He picks up his phone and goes to the messages, finally seeing all the messages you sent hours ago. He feels terrible for not being there for you.

Once the light turns green, Kylian quickly stops at a local CVS to pick up medication. Luckily, it is nighttime, and there are not many people out, so he is able to use the self-checkout without any delay. As he rushes home, Kylian's mind is filled with worry and guilt. He hopes that he can make it up to you and provide the care and attention that you deserve.

Kylian's heart pounds in his chest as he frantically searches for you, his mind racing with worry. When he finally spots you in the living room, his heart sinks at the sight of your weakened state. You look so pale and fragile, as if a gentle breeze could knock you over. He rushes to your side, setting down the medication and taking a seat beside you. He gently places his hand on your forehead, feeling the heat radiating from your body, realizing that you have a fever. Kylian's heart aches at the sight of you in this condition.

You let out a soft groan as Kylian's hand brushes your forehead, sending sharp waves of pain through your head. You slowly open your eyes, feeling Kylian's concerned gaze on you. You try to speak, but he quickly silences you with a gentle shake of his head, "I'm so sorry, my love. Stay still and let me take care of you now." He leans down to kiss your forehead lightly, being sure not to cause any unnecessary movement.

Kylian's sole focus for the next few hours is taking care of you. He knows that you haven't eaten all day, and so he prepares some porridge for you. He carefully places a small amount in a cup and brings it over to you, helping you sit up so that you can eat. He even adds your medication to the porridge, knowing that it will be easier for you to take. You are extremely nauseous, but Kylian remains calm, reassuring you and helping you take the medicine.

Once you've finished eating and taking your medication, Kylian scoops you up gently in his arms and carries you to the bedroom. He places you softly on the bed, making sure that you are comfortable and have everything you need. Throughout the night, Kylian remains by your side, checking your temperature, bringing you water, and comforting you with soothing words. He feels guilty that he wasn't there for you earlier, but he is determined to make up for it by being the best partner possible.

Eventually, the medication starts to take effect, and your fever begins to subside. You drift off to sleep, with Kylian sitting beside you, holding your hand, feeling grateful that he can be there for you when you need him the most. As the night wears on, Kylian's focus remains solely on you, forgetting about his work responsibilities and everything else. His only concern is your well-being, and he is willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you recover quickly.

[gumycandyyy]

Can you write a Winter King X (preferably Fem) ice skater!reader who often visits his kingdom because her home is very hot?

Thank you so much and have a lovely day!

୨♡ Ｓｋａｔｅ Ｗｉｔｈ Ｍｅ？ ♡୧

Ok, I was almost done with this, but my computer decided to restart and delete all my work (tearing my face off as we speak)

Type: Drabble

Request: Yes! My ask box is open!

Romantic

No use of y/n

Gender neutral reader (I would've made them fem, like the asker wanted, but pronouns never came up)

Summary: Things were getting heated in the desert kingdom, so you decided to make a visit to a cool friend.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Knocking on the front (and over the top) door of the Winter Palace, you sigh deeply. How long had it been since you've visited your friend? The desert kingdom had gotten unbearable to stay in, especially with the never ending quarreling with the beach kingdom.

The beach kingdom rulers -whoever they were- kept saying that since the desert kingdom was next to them, it belonged to the beach kingdom. A bunch of garbage. They had to literally put up walls to keep beach kingdom residents from stealing sand.

What a bother.

You suddenly realize that the doors opened, and there was an ice servant ushering you in. You guess that you started walking in without thinking about it. Pretty soon you entered the throne room, for as soon as the doors opened, you heard a loud-

"Welcome back my dear!"

You laughed softly at the Winter King's flamboyance, rubbing the back of your neck. He slid gracefully on the ice floor to where you were, and picked you up in a tight hug. You laughed as he spun you around, then put you down.

"My, my. How long has it been since I've seen you, dear friend? Two, three months? What caused you to be away for so long?"

You sighed exasperatedly. Explaining everything that's been going on with the kingdoms.

"-Oh, and we think a war is gonna start. It sucks."

Despite your joke-y manner, Winter could tell you were genuinely upset by this. He took one of your hands, holding it in both of his. It was cold, but it made you feel warm inside.

"Well, if you ever need a refuge, my doors are always open to you, my dear.

His voice was soft and sweet, like a marshmallow. It made you feel like everything was going to be okay. His gentle smile was enough to make your face flush, and it was all you could do to not cover him in kisses. You were just friends anyway, but normal people do that with their friends, right...?

Right?

"In the meantime..."

Winter's soft grip on your hand tightened, and he started gliding around on the ice, dragging you with him. You laughed softly, resting your other arm on his shoulder for stabilization.

"Skate with me?"

You went with it, letting Winter slide gracefully on the ice, leading you with him.

The two of you giggled harmoniously as Winter twirled you. You eventually separated, still skating on the ice, only to join back together once again.

This went on for a few more minutes, and you realized an ice servant was playing the piano for some background music. You twirled in a graceful dance on the ice, until one of you ended up tripping on.. Something. Was that a marshmallow?

You giggled light heartedly as the both of you took a tumble, ending up with you knocking over Winter.

You laughed, and looked up at him, only to realize you were resting on his chest. Your face flushed, and you tried to act like this didn't bother you in the slightest.

"I like this."

Winter said sweetly, that ever-soft smile warming you to your core. You agreed with him, sitting up. Winter stood up sharply, picking you up in the process and twirling you around.

"May I.. Do something spontaneous?"

You nodded, resting your hands on Winter's shoulders. He leaned down, and kissed your cheek, his nose bumping into your face a little. It felt magical.

You blushed and smiled giddily, throwing your arms around Winter's neck in a show of affection, but ended up knocking the two of you down again.

He laughed, causing you to softly chuckle along with him. His smile was contagious.

"My darling, there's nowhere I'd rather be... Than right here, right now."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

No fanart for this one, I tried to get it out as fast as possible. Sorry!

reblog for a beginner writer?

[darling-i-read-it]

Protection

Dalton Lambert x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: the frat party, a guy being really creepy about flirting and mentions of roofies, descriptions of vomit (briefly), spoilers for insidious 

Author’s Note: I started and restarted this a bunch of times but couldn’t figure out a way to do it that I really liked. I hope this is okay for right now, I appreciate you guys giving me your ideas! Requested: by anon, Heya I love your Dalton Lambert fics brw Had 2 ideas and was wondering if 1. you could write a headcanon/oneshot for Dalton Lambert x Reader where she's all shy/timid when they first meet and then the whole floating away and demon attack thing happens and he wants to protect the reader and from there, their relationship escalates? 2. Smut/Slightly suggested hc for Dalton Lambert x Reader or a relationship HC for them pla You don't have to write both but just had some ideas Requested: by anon, Ello!!! Can you do a fic for Dalton Lambert x Reader where Dalton is kinda like protective if the reader please? The reader is probably round the same age if not a couple years younger and is shy and all but does warm up to him eventually I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator (not my gif)

Dalton’s eyes followed you as he gazed from behind his hair. He had seen you around the building, specifically the floor he was living on. There was a living room area that no one ever actually used at the end of the hall and he had run into you there once or twice, usually in passing. He didn’t realize you had a class together until the second week of class, when he saw your face attentively listening in the back of the classroom. Your lips were pursed with concentration but were so focused on the teacher he didn't think you could see anything else. That’s why he felt so comfortable starring; he truly believed you had no idea. 

The class droned on. It was a gen ed requirement that he would google the answers to. He could sit with his sketchbook open and lightly brushing his pencil over the paper. He didn’t realize he was drawing you until he looked down. He was then made consciously aware of how he saw you. Poised, shy, timid, pretty. 

“Miss Y/L/N,” the professor said, breaking you out of your perfectly sculpted listening gaze. Your eyes went wide with what Dalton assumed was fear. “Do you know the answer?” He looked back up at the board. Some slideshow with a lot of numbers, none that made any sense to him. When had he stopped taking notes? 

You looked down at your own notes. You knew the answer but for some reason it was stuck in your throat. You cleared it, attempting to force the word out of your mouth. You had to look away before you could answer. 

“237,” you offered, voice quiet. 

The professor’s gaze was predatory. Dalton didn’t like the way he was gazing at you, like you were something to be conquered, someone to be broken down. He had never enjoyed the teachers who leached into clearly shy students. The professor nodded, moving along, giving you neither a praise or a follow up question. Your face was now glued down. He had clearly startled you out of your shell. 

When class ended, Dalton got up first. He didn't have as much to put away because he wasn’t actually paying attention. He weaved against the flow of traffic to the back of the room where you were carefully placing your things back into your bag. 

“Don’t worry about him,” he said, without thinking. He should’ve thought twice about letting you know he was watching you but the words had already escaped his mouth. “He’s a dick.” You looked up at Dalton, eyes pretty and doe like. You cleared your throat, another instance of forcing yourself to speak when no words were coming out. 

You nodded instead. 

“You live in the same building as me right? Miller Hall?” You nodded again, this time a sound coming with it. 

“Yeah. Dalton right?” Your voice was still quiet but he smiled at the reassurance that he was also noticed. 

“Yeah. Y/N?” You nodded back at him. You stood up from your chair, putting your bag over your shoulder. “Are you going back there? I don’t mean to ask in a creepy way, swear.” He chuckled nervously. “I was just heading back and was wondering if you wanted some company.” Suddenly he was the shy one. He felt like cowering under your gaze, revoking his invitation and running out the door. He tried to remember what his mom had said about making friends. All he had right now was Chris and she had other friends. He needed to branch out. Branching out could help him with his sleep issues. 

“Sure,” you said finally, voice surprisingly pleasant. “This is my last class today.” He smiled, all teeth and gums, while he moved out of the way so you could go first. 

“Me too. I took way too many early classes.” 

“Same,” you said. You walked out the door and he followed quickly behind to keep in pace with you. It was a nice fall day, leaves falling down and gathering in the grass. Weeds were overgrown, no one was lingering out in the cold. The walk back would be uneventful but peaceful. “How do you like the building?” 

“It’s fine. We live too high up for my taste.” 

“And the elevators are always broken,” you said. 

“Yes! That should be illegal when there are so many floors.” The comradery broke some tension between the two of you. Your smile lost some tension. 

“Do you have a roommate?” you questioned. 

“I did but not anymore. Her name’s Chris so we got mixed up on the gender assignments,” he explained. “You?” 

“Not currently, no. I was lucky and didn’t have anyone to start with.” You held your bag close to your side. Dalton weaved through the cobblestone walkway that had quickly become familiar to him. “The building settles a lot at night. It can get spooky by myself.” 

“I hear that,” he muttered. “I still have a nightlight.” He wasn’t sure why he had admitted that you didn’t give him any crazed reaction. 

“It can get dark,” you admitted. Your lack of judgment made him feel a little bit safer as the walk continued. He wondered how many doors down you were. He wondered if maybe you would be up for a sleepover later in your friendship, just so that neither of you get scared anymore. His mind wandered and he didn’t reel any thoughts back in as you asked him about his art. 

-

Dalton enjoyed hanging out with you. He hadn’t known a person to sit quietly with him while he worked and you worked and you both just enjoyed having someone else there. You would walk down to his room, bare feet padded on the hardwood floor, and knock on his door, with your textbooks tucked under your arm.

You got the spare bed while he sketched, playing some music quietly from his music. This is how you would spend time together. Talking when necessary but never feeling pressured to. It was easy to get lost in silence when Dalton got zoned into his work. 

Chris opened the door without knocking.

“We should go to the frat party tonight,” she announced instead of saying hello. You and Dalton looked up. You even jumped at the sudden change of atmosphere. You were nose deep in work. You had met Chris in passing and knew she was friends with Dalton. She had always been kind to you, if not a little invasive. You didn’t mind here though. 

“All of us?” you asked, voice quiet. 

“I think you need to get out of your shell. Both of you. You’re so preoccupied with things going on in your brain it seems like I can never get you to hang out like normal people.” Dalton shared a wary glance with you. 

“I don’t know Chris,” he said. 

“I do.” She took a step forward. “What’s the worst that could happen? You get drunk and have to come home? It’s boring and we leave early?” 

“Frat parties have never exactly been safe for girls,” you told her, caution laced in your voice. 

“I’ll be there,” Chris said. 

“So will I,” Dalton said, with more umph. You met his gaze. There was a glaze of protection over his eyes that made you feel better about going. It also left you with a small warm pit in your stomach, something akin to appreciation or adoration. You gave him a warm smile. 

“I don’t know guys,” you said. 

“C’mon. You have gotta get out eventually. Why not sooner rather than later?” 

Dalton gave you a look again. He was asking you with his eyes if you were okay with it. After spending some time together in silence, you had gotten used to reading each other's expressions. You shrugged. He narrowed his eyes. You opened yours wider, shaking your head in disinterest. 

“Okay no more Jedi mind talk,” Chris said. “Yes or no?” 

“We’ll go,” you said. Dalton tried to hide his surprise. 

“Sounds like we’re going then.”

-

The frat party was loud. It was so loud that you could barely hear yourself think over the people screaming at each other, stumbling over the furniture and spilling drinks onto the ground. It was slippery and unwelcoming. It was nothing you had ever actually experienced before. You tried so hard to keep yourself out of these situations so you didn’t have to be uncomfortable for an extended period of time. 

You found yourself standing closer to Dalton, as close as you had ever actually been to him. There is something special about being stuck in an unwelcoming space and becoming even closer with people you wouldn’t have otherwise been so close with. Chris pushed forward. 

You found a mostly empty doorway and gathered like you were going to make a game plan or something. 

“Let’s be nosy upstairs,” Chris said. You immediately cramped up with the thought of someone walking in on you being in their space. “We’re already here. Why not? You wanna stay down here?” Chris questioned. You could tell she was trying to be helpful. You really liked her and appreciated her excitement but was already way too far out of your comfort zone. 

“You can go. I can go find some crackers or something,” you said to Dalton. He raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. 

“I can stay with you.”

“No, no. There could be something up there that’s fun. Bring me down a present.” He shared a glance with Chris. 

“See? She’s giving you permission Dalton, let’s go.” You rolled your eyes playfully and shoved him forward a little. He looked back between the two of you but Chris was already grabbing his arm. “She’ll keep her phone on.” She dragged him by the arm upstairs. 

You turned back to the crowd. There were a few people there you recognized from class but no one you were friends with. You cleared your throat and straightened your back. You could do this. You could be a college student who goes and gets a shitty drink and lurks in the background. 

The kitchen was less packed, which you were grateful for. There were straggled, circling the kitchen island. There was a bunch of finger food that you didn’t exactly trust. You found a punch bowl, which you didn’t trust either, but grabbed a solo cup anyway. You tried to slink back, not make too much attention as you waited for Chris and Dalton to come back down. 

You walked back towards the main room where the music was being played. You bumped into others who paid you no mind. The dance floor was the best for people to watch. There were girls there with pretty makeup and interesting outfit choices. They danced, eyes closed, smiling with each other as they drank. The boys watched as well, eyes traveling further down than yours were. 

“Hey.” You turned around, not noticing at first that someone was talking to you. “You’re in my 201 math class right?” 

A boy you didn’t recognize was leaning against the wall beside you. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to place his face. He had a dirty expression on his face that you didn’t like. He was taller than you, looking down and it felt like you were cowering. You shook your head. 

“I don’t think so.” 

“No, I think you are. With Straus?” Maybe you just didn’t pay enough attention to your fellow students in that class. You grabbed the solo cup tighter, holding it to your chest. You thought of all the stories of boys slipping things in girls drinks while they’re unaware. The haunting thought lingered. You suddenly wished Dalton was around and then was startled with how deep your connection with him was. You hadn’t known each other long but you supposed it was just something about living with no real friends in a new environment. 

“It’s a big class,” you lied. He gave an exaggerated nod. 

“Yeah tots.” He moved closer to you. You took a step back and hit the wall. You glanced up to the stairs, unable to find a familiar face. 

Upstairs, Dalton was laying underneath the bed of Nick the Dick. He could see the bathroom through his eyeline, the feet of a boy that should not be there. The puke pooled on the ground, next to his weathered shoes. Nick was standing at the mirror, saying something stupid that Dalton wasn’t listening to. His breathing was weathered. He looked at the door, wishing Chris to come save him, wishing he had brought you upstairs. 

What is that? 

What is that? 

Nick opened the door and left. He crawled out from underneath the bed feverishly and looked up, just to be met with the boy's face again. This time he puked all over Dalton whose eyes shut in surprise and disgust. He scrunched his hands together, trying to throw aside the vision. 

The door opened. Chris emerged. 

“Dalton?” He looked over at him. “Dalton? Are you okay?” He looked back up. Nothing. Nothing. He took a deep breath, eyes still wide and crazed. He got up. Chris was still talking but he pushed past her, mumbling something about how they needed to leave. He barreled down the stairs, pushing past someone as he went. 

He looked across the room. He was still reeling from whatever happened in the bathroom. All the faces looked like a blur. He searched for something familiar, needing to find the face he was looking for. 

Finally he eyes set on you. You were in the corner of the room, being boxed in by some guy he didn’t recognize. The man had an arm over your head, leaning in real close. He could see your face from behind him. 

Dalton pushed forward. He put his hand on the man's arm. You were immediately relieved to see him, even though all the color had drained from his face. 

“What’s going on?” Dalton asked.

“Nothing man.” He noticed the firm grip you had on the top of your drink. This man’s words were not slurred. He was sober and Dalton decided he was dangerous. 

“Is he bothering you?” Dalton asked, eyes going back to you. You didn’t say anything. Your voice remained dead in your throat. If you couldn't talk in the best of times, you couldn’t talk now. 

“Everythings fine,” the guy promised. 

“Let’s go,” Dalton said. He still had cold sweats running down his face. 

“Woah. We were having a conversation here.” Dalton met the guy's face. He didn’t recognize him and he knew his thought process wasn’t sound. He punched the guy anyway. 

You gasped, taking a step back. The guy stumbled back but Dalton had already grabbed your arm and pulled you back into the crowd. It was too loud and no one noticed that there was now some annoyed man trying to follow you through the party. Chris was at the front door waiting. You met her eyes. 

“What happened?” she asked, trying to keep up with Dalton’s fast paced walk. 

“Some guy was scaring her.” 

“Huh?” 

“He was being a lot,” you promised. Even as you walked back towards your building, Dalton’s iron grip was on your arm. 

“What happened before that?” Chris asked. Her voice was stern. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Don’t worry about it right now. Let’s just get back.” You glanced back at the now fading party. You couldn’t see the guy anymore. Dalton had a hard look on his face that you had never seen before. 

“We actually do need to talk about that,” Chris said. “Something happened in there.” 

“We don’t need to get into that,” he promised. He stopped in the middle of the courtyard. You glanced around the dark night. Campus was mostly silent. You saw the security cart go around the corner. 

“You punched someone!” Chris said. 

“He was bothering her!” he said. 

“But what happened to you up there!” You looked between the two of them. He took a deep breath. 

“I saw someone in the bathroom that wasn’t there. I’m having sleep issues.”

“Were you sleeping?” you asked, genuinely concerned. He shook his head. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. He turned his body toward you completely. You nodded. You wouldn’t tell if you actually were. You felt invaded and uncomfortable. The feeling lingered around like that man was hiding behind you. 

“I’m okay.” He grabbed your hand. 

“Are you sure?” You nodded. Chris looked between the two of you. 

“Positive,” you promised. “Are you okay?” He wasn’t but he didn’t say it. He knew that you and Chris would hound him and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He didn't know what he felt about anything right now. 

He nodded. 

Chris rolled her eyes. 

“Are you gonna buy that?” 

“For right now, yeah,” you said. Dalton gave you apologetic eyes. You held his hand, comfortable with it there. Chris took a deep breath. 

“Alright fine. Are you gonna be okay tonight?” He nodded, looking back at her. She nodded slowly and turned to the building. It wasn’t far now. “Maybe we all just need to go to sleep. They spiked the punch or something.” He didn’t want to mention he had nothing to drink so he stayed silent. She gestured for you two to follow her. 

Your hand remained in Dalton’s. He was holding onto it for dear life as his mind reeled. He had the sudden urge to talk to his mom but he pushed it aside. He was a grown man now. He could deal with this alone or with his friends. You took the elevator, that was gratefully working. Chris stopped off at her floor and gave you both goodnights and I’m sorries. 

Finally you were on your floor. 

“Thank you for helping me back there,” you said. You had been meaning to say it but the words kept getting stuck in your head. 

“Of course. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you,” he said. 

“Same.” You walked down to his room. He wanted to drop you off but you kept going past your room, no conversation needed. Neither of you wanted to sleep in a lonely room. He pushed open his door, the silence so loud. You sat down on the spare bed. 

“I’m gonna get changed,” he said. “You’re welcome to stay. I don’t think I wanna be alone right now.” 

“Me too.” He grabbed some clothes and walked to the bathroom. 

When he walked down the hallway he thought about how he wasn’t there for you when you needed him. He had been upstairs, scared of his own accord. Something could have happened. He slowly undressed behind a shower curtain. He could’ve stayed and asked you to leave but he didn’t. 

Whatever this was, whatever was going on in his head, he had no intention of getting you involved. 

None. Not if it meant hurting you.

[beespaceprogram]

Sticker Cutter Research

I was looking into getting a sticker cutting machine, and I decided to start by looking into cricut which is a well known brand. I had a look at what models they had than their feature etc, but what I was most concerned about was their software. Printer companies like to lock you into a defacto subscription to support hardware you don't really own, and as I was to discover, cricut are operating in a similar way.

The cricut software is online-only*. To cut your own designs you need to use their software to upload your art to their server. There's no way to cut a new design without a logged-in cricut account and an internet connection. At one point in 2021 they flirted with limiting free accounts to 20 uploads/month but backed down after huge community backlash, as far as I can tell.

The incident spawned several community efforts to write open-source firmware for cricut hardware. Some efforts were successful for specific models/serial numbers, but require cracking open the case and hooking in to the debug contacts to flash the chip; not exactly widely accessible. Another project sought to create a python cricut server you can run locally, and then divert the app's calls to the server to your local one.

I restarted my search, this time beginning with looking for extant open-source software for driving cutters, and found this project, which looks a little awkward to use, but functional. They list a bunch of cutter hardwares and whether they're compatible or not. Of those, I recognised the sihouette brand name from other artists talking about them.

I downloaded the silhouette software to try like I did w the cricut software, and immediately it was notable that it didn't try to connect to the internet at all. It's a bit clunky, in that way printer and scanner software tends to be, but I honestly greatly preferred using it to cricut's sluggish electron app⁺. Their software has a few paid tiers above the free one, adding stuff like sgv import/export/and reading cut settings from a barcode on the input material. They're one-off payments, and seem reasonable to me.

This is not so much a review, as sharing some of the research I've done. I haven't yet used either a cricut or a silhouette, and I haven't researched other brands either. But I wanted to talk about this research because to me, cricut's aggressively online nature is a red flag. Software that must connect to a server to run is software that runs only at the whim of the server owner (and only as long as it's profitable to keep the server up). And if that software is the only thing that will make your several hundred dollars worth of plastic and (cheap, according to a teardown I read) servos run, then you have no guarantee you'll be able to run it in the future.

Do you use a desktop cnc cutter? What has your experience been like with the hardware and software? Do you have any experience from home printers with good print quality and user-refillable ink cartridges?

* Cricut's app tried to connect to more than 14 different addresses, including facebook, youtube, google analytics, datadoghq.com, and launchdarkly.com. Launch Darkly are a service provider that help software companies do a whole bunch of things I'm coming to despise, for example, they offer infrastructure for serving different features to different demographics and comparing results to control groups. You know how at various times you've gotten wildly different numbers of ads than your friends on instagram? They were using techniques like this to work out how many ads they could show without affecting their pickup/engagement rates. Scummy stuff.

⁺ Electron apps are web-pages pretending to be applications. They use heaps of ram, tend to have very poor performance, and encourage frustrating UI design that doesn't follow OS conventions. Discord's app is a notable example of an Electron app

[emblazons]

—woke up from literal sleep to write down the thoughts that clicked for me after I made this post about the Mike/Hopper hug last night, so. Here's the expansion of all of that lmao.

people always talk about the way Mike looked conflicted when El kisses him in S3, on top of the way he seemed fine with them breaking up until she initiated the relationship again (because of the absence of Hopper). I think this is 100% true, and it’s also the start of Mike’s spiral about protecting her we see through S4.

Mike’s “care” in lieu of "love" for El (and lack of ability to tell her he loves he romantically) is directly correlated to Hopper telling him to BE CAREFUL re: El right before he died. Almost as though Mike didn’t even have space to think of El as a true romantic partner— he was too busy trying to hold up the end of her missing “dad," and why he didn't know what to do when she started talking about how she didn't belong (because he's fourteen and not capable of filling the shoes of her father lmao).

the reason why Mike said “I was worried too much about El” is because he was—he was worried in a way suited for a father, not a boyfriend (thank you @emily-tumbles-on for that tag lol).

It’s also why he was so willing to let El go back to Owens—it’s a trusted (-ish) adult figure who could help El in a way his 14 year old self could not. It’s also why he immediately seems okay with letting her go once she says she wants to + throwing away her letter, right up until he realizes where El went is dangerous again, which meant he has to restart the protector-in-Hop’s place worry (which he doesn’t want, but feels powerless to step away from in his paladin-oath-responsibility mind).

When Mike & Will get into it at Rink O Mania over Will not telling Mike what was going on, Will interprets it as romantic attachment when it’s really giving “worried parent” not boyfriend.

That entire “you should have told me” also DIRECTLY REFLECTS the way Mike sees Will as his actual partner and equal no matter the time or distance (like in S2)—and expects him to help shoulder leadership responsibilities the way romantic/life partners would by helping him look after his charge (El).

The whole painting is confusing af for Mike because he does not see El as his partner or lover, but his responsibility in Hop’s absence—and Will, in his projection, is conflating his romantic love for Mike into the familial one between Mike & El. That's also why Mike feels so insecure about not being responsible enough (!!!) and why he looks dejected the way a parent would when you tell them you want do something they used to think was fun before having a kid when Will says “we could just play DnD and Nintendo for the rest of our lives.”

The van scene takes on a whole new meaning when you think about how the second Will made it about El, it forced Mike into a mental conundrum because he felt loved as himself at first…only to have it thrown back in with this wildly inappropriate parental responsibility he has for El because of Hop’s loss. (I watched the van scene again with this in mind and...lmao. Mike's expressions make absolute sense once you keep this conflation / confusion in mind)!

Yet another reason Mike and Jonathan need to have another conversation is because both of them have been suffering from a severe parentification—Jonathan for Will, and Mike for Eleven.

Hopper returning leaves space for both of them to move back into age-appropriate selfishness/relationships (aka think about their own wants and needs with Nancy and Will for a change) because Joyce doesn’t need Jonathan to fill the “man of the house” space, Will is going to “come of age” and have Mike, and El is gonna have her dad.

....all that to say these (and probably a million more things) become WAY clearer when you realize Mike is carrying the burden of Hopper's absence not as a boyfriend, but as 14 year old boy filling a parent space...which makes me really glad Hop didn't really die in S3 all of a sudden lmao. And also...Duffers. FREE MIKE WHEELER 2025