#i am only a few years younger so I refuse to call him old

[arliedraws]

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[its-time-to-write]

just a short little Thanksgiving blurb for all my American girlies 🥰🦃

ours

You force yourself back to the present, where your twelve year-old cousin is updating you on the latest middle school drama. 

“…and that’s why boys named Max are a red flag, but dogs named Max are not,” she concludes. 

You giggle and nod appropriately, taking a sip from your drink. The house is filled with the entire family this Thanksgiving and while it’s pleasantly crowded, it still feels like a part of you is missing. 

Your phone is securely in your bag, a tactic to try to keep yourself from replaying highlights from the England match from the previous weekend. Every other WAG got to go support their man, but you were stuck in America with pre-Thanksgiving work. Thanksgiving has only been going on for twenty minutes, and you’re ready to call it and go home. 

International dating is hard.

Your mom can tell, so she’s been giving you tasks to do all day. She must’ve told your grandma or maybe she’s just incredibly observant, because she’s picked up the mantle as well and neither of them give you enough time to be alone with your thoughts. 

It’s nice of them, except now the family’s here and everyone’s asking about your boyfriend. They don’t care that he’s a footballer (in the best way) and they’re all excited for you, but you wish he were here. 

Maybe you can sneak upstairs and call him. 

You do some quick math and realize he should be asleep so you sigh and ask your cousin if she wants to come with you to steal macaroni and cheese. 

She smiles and says, “Yes, duh.”

“It’s going to be tricky,” you warn. “My mom and your mom are going to be on the lookout.”

“I bet Grandpa will sneak us some,” she reminds you. Oh yes, Grandpa would do anything for his granddaughters. 

You grab her hand and weave through aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters, cousins and a few other relatives. You’re pretty sure this is the biggest Thanksgiving you’ve ever had. 

You and your cousin successfully get your hands on two bowls of mac and cheese, and slip away to an unoccupied corner to eat it. 

You’re smiling and not thinking about Jamie at all. This is your favorite cousin, the one who’s eleven years younger than you, but you two have been doing dumb shit together since she could talk. 

You’re almost done when someone slides into your space, pressing their arm against yours. Your cousin’s eyes widen as she looks at you and you turn, expecting to see an aunt or god-forbid one of your snitch brothers. 

Instead, you’re met with blue eyes and a familiar smile. 

You choke on your last bite of food as you launch yourself into Jamie’s arms.  

“What are you doing here?” you ask, refusing to let go of him. “You have a match this weekend.”

He shrugs, still smiling. “Ah, you know, gotta be culturally sensitive with my American girlfriend, babe. Milestones and all that.”

You raise an eyebrow. There’s no way Roy let him go with that excuse. 

“Or I might have injured meself at the match last week and am out of training for two weeks,” Jamie says. 

“You’re hurt?” you exclaim. “Why didn’t you call me? Should you have been on a plane? What happened?”

You’ve inadvertently tightened your grip around Jamie’s neck, so he reaches up to remove your hands, still keeping them in his. He lifts them up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. 

“I’m fine. Just my ankle. But I figured, who not come surprise ya?”

“Does my mom know you’re here?”

Jamie’s grin turns cocky. “Called your mum and dad three days ago. I’m staying in their guest room, ain’t I? Got in this morning before you lot showed up.”

Your cousin has been watching this scene a little open-mouthed the whole time. “I wish my boyfriend would do that for me,” she murmurs. 

Your head snaps over to her. “Your what,” you say to her and she holds her hands up defensively. 

“Oh look it’s your English boyfriend who flew all the way to America for Thanksgiving, why don’t you kiss him some more?” she deflects, and Jamie shoots her a wink and tilts your face up for a kiss so your cousin can get away. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you tell him. “Oh my gosh, we’re going to have the BEST time. Get ready to have your mind blown, little British boy.”

“Anything for you, Miss America,” he teases. “Just don’t make me try those mushroom things I saw, looked fucking awful, that.”

You pull a shocked face. “Oh but it’s tradition. Everyone has to suffer through my uncle Darren’s gross stuffed mushrooms at least once. And since you’re new here…” you trail off. 

Jamie grimaces while you giggle and run a hand through his hair. God, you can’t believe he’s here and while you aren’t thrilled he’s injured, maybe it’s not such a bad thing. 

“C’mon,” you say, tugging him to the kitchen. “I want to go yell at mom and dad for not telling me you were coming.”

[nataliawrites]

Sweeter Than Revenge // Toto Wolff

Toto Wolff x Verstappen!Reader

Toto Wolff was a perfectionist. He demanded nothing but the best. He refused to settle for second or third. He knew what he wanted and he knew how to get what he wanted.

That’s where you come in. Some would call you a jack of all trades. Despite your relatively young age, you had graduated at the top of your Oxford class with a Doctorate in Engineering Science — specializing in automotive and mechanical engineering — and a Masters in Strategy and Innovation. Your thesis on exploiting friction and wind resistance instead of battling against it caught the eye of numerous car manufacturers, all wanting to snatch up the mind behind the innovate approach that could revolutionize the industry.

But when Formula 1 teams joined the fray for your employment, your mind was made up the second you saw the email from the Mercedes-AMG Petronas team principal himself. The exorbitant salary, company car, and executive position Toto was offering you were benefits but they paled in comparison to the opportunity to do the one thing you had been waiting for since you permanently left home at 18 years old — prove the people that you had once called family wrong.

Growing up as the eldest child of Jos Verstappen and half-sister to Max Verstappen was anything but sunshine and rainbows. Constantly in the shadow of your younger brother. Always ignored in favor of your father’s golden son. Never receiving approval or the affection you desired after the loss of your mother. Always an afterthought to racing.

When you moved to an entirely different country, merely a teenager yourself, the only communication you received from your family was a text message from Jos reminding you “not to embarrass the family name” a few months after you started university. So you powered forward, completely alone in a foreign country and forced to work two jobs on top of school, but finding solace in your studies.

Now, as you hit send on your response to Toto Wolff, all of your struggles were going to pay off.

Not long after, you were invited to formally meet the team and sign all the necessary paperwork in the beginning of the offseason. You made the drive to Brackley and smoothed your power suit before entering the team’s technology center. A composed receptionist took your name before guiding you down the halls lined with moments and memorabilia from team history and leaving you in front of a door with a steel “Toto Wolff” nameplate on it.

You took a moment to collect yourself and rapped your knuckles against the solid wooden door, turning the handle when a deep accented voice from within the office told you to enter. The Austrian, who painted an imposing picture behind his desk, rose to greet you with a firm handshake. You quickly realized that he was tall and fit and, despite how hard you tried to keep your mind professional, extremely handsome.

“Dr. Verstappen, it’s great to finally meet you,” Toto motioned for you to sit down across the desk from him.

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Wolff. I am so grateful for this opportunity.”

“The pleasure is ours. We are very excited to have you onboard this coming season. And, please, call me Toto.”

“Then you must call me Y/N. And while we’re on the topic of names, I’m sure you’ve noticed mine.”

Toto leaned back in his leather chair, “a funny coincidence to be sure. I hope that doesn’t mean you cheer for Red Bull.”

You hid a wince at his joking tone, “about that … it’s not exactly a coincidence. Max Verstappen is my brother. Half-brother if you want to get technical.”

You continue as you see him about to speak, “let me assure you that this will have no negative impact on my work with you. If anything, it will make me work harder towards the team’s success. I don’t exactly go around making this public knowledge, but my childhood was not the best and I haven’t spoken to my brother or my father since I first moved out at 18. They never supported me or showed that they cared about me. I’m doing this for myself. I’m going to help Mercedes win to prove them wrong.”

Your heart pounded out of your chest as Toto impassively stared into your soul. “I believe you.” A breath you didn’t even realize you were holding rushed out in relief. “I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Jos Verstappen and what you’ve told me does not exactly come as a surprise.”

“Thank you, Toto. I promise you won’t regret it. We’ll get Mercedes back on top.”

“I am counting on it. Welcome to the team.”

You spent the rest of the off-season working more often than not, applying the research your Doctorate was built on to the car and optimizing it as much as possible. You spent your days working closely with the engineering team and both Lewis Hamilton and George Russell, gathering as much data as possible before you flew out to pre-season testing. Your evenings were usually taken up by Toto, the both of you workaholics who stayed far past the time that everyone else had left, typically discussing strategy and your mutual loathing of Red Bull over dinner that was ordered into the office.

The attraction that you felt upon first meeting your boss grew more and more as you got to know him better. While his handsomeness certainly didn’t hurt, his intelligence and passion truly did it for you. His age didn’t bother you — boys your age certainly left something to be desired — but you refused to be known as the woman who slept her way to the top (despite how unfair and inaccurate that would be) in a heavily male dominated field. So you used all your willpower to stay professional and prayed that Toto didn’t notice when you would gaze at his lips or his forearms or his chest in that famous button up shirt for a bit longer than strictly appropriate.

There was no way that Toto Wolff could possibly reciprocate your feelings so your resolved to keep them tightly bottled up.

He had a different idea.

You were in Toto’s office to mark your last dinner before flying to Bahrain for pre-season testing, lightly talking over a bottle of wine, when he abruptly set down his glass and looked resolutely down at you. “Tell me if I’ve misread the situation,” he pushed your plates to the side, uncaring, as he reached out to pull you across the desk and towards him.

You seized up in shock but melted as he crashed his lips to yours.

You gathered what little common sense you had remaining to detach yourself from him, “Toto, we can’t.”

His eyes went guarded, “Do you not feel the same way?”

“No but-“

“Then why?”

“Because you’re my boss! Because even the thought of this is unprofessional! Because it can ruin both of us!”

“But you want this.” He said it as a statement.

“Of course I do,” you deflate. “But we can’t-“

“And I want this too. I want you. You are strikingly intelligent and incredibly beautiful. We are both consenting adults and the team does not have a fraternization policy. There is no reason we must suffer in restraint.”

He takes both of your hands, engulfing then with his large ones before continuing, “you have been taking care of yourself for so long. Now, let me take care of you.”

You were extremely thankful the next morning that you accepted Toto’s offer to join him on his private jet instead of flying commercial charter with the rest of the team. At least this way he had time to drop you off at your apartment so you could pick up your luggage on the way to the airport without having to rush.

The other perks were pretty nice too. If you had told your younger self that you would be joining the Mile High Club with Toto Wolff on a private jet heading to Bahrain for the start of the Formula 1 season, you would have laughed in your own face (and then tried to work out the physics of how you time traveled to see your younger self in the first place).

Once in Bahrain, you jumped into the beautiful chaos that is the F1 season head first. Mercedes started off on a much higher note than last year and the mood around the garage remained light as the team kept the momentum going. It quickly became common to see 1-2 Mercedes finishes or at the very least both Mercedes drivers on the podium as the optimized car and your unorthodox strategies gave them the extra edge.

You and Toto tried to steal as many moments together as you could away from the hurricane of work that sometimes swallowed you up. Soon, neither of you particularly trying to keep your progressing relationship a secret, the rest of the team became aware that you were together. Despite your initial fears of backlash, you were met with support and the worst you got from the team was gentle teasing about managing to tame the infamous Toto Wolff.

As the season unfurled, neither your father nor brother had noticed you working for their rival. While photos of you with Toto, your drivers, and generally around the team did circulate, neither of them made the connection between the woman in Mercedes gear and the daughter and sister they cut off years ago. You ignored the traitorous pang in your heart every time Max or Jos’ eyes glossed over you, not realizing who they were looking at.

Or at least they didn’t until the FIA Prize Giving ceremony.

Toto was attending to receive the Constructors’ Championship trophy while your drivers collected their respective Drivers’ Championship and second-place trophies and you had come along as his date. While making the rounds on Toto’s arm at the gala after the ceremony, Max happened to overhear Toto introducing you to an acquaintance and your brother’s head snapped up at the sound of your name.

Max stared at the woman with Toto. It couldn’t be … but she had the same face shape and nose shape and hair color he remembered. His feet moved towards you before he could help himself, “Y/N?”

You heard the familiar voice interject from behind you and steeled yourself before turning around, “Max.”

“Is it really you?”

“Last time I checked.”

Toto had managed to excuse himself from his conversation and joined the awkward reunion between the estranged Verstappen siblings.

“Verstappen,” he nodded a curt greeting.

Your brother paused, looking between you and Toto, “wait-wait. You and him? You’re together?”

“For a while now,” you gained some satisfaction from the mix of emotions, none of them pleasant, that crossed Max’s face. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice earlier. I mean, Toto and I did only meet because I work for Mercedes. I’ve been around the paddock every race.”

You didn’t notice the approach of your father until you looked at Max’s wide eyes frozen on someone behind you.

“How dare you! To go against your own family? To actively work against your brother?”

“Hello, father. How are you? I’ve been great! It’s only been a little under a decade since I’ve heard from you.”

“Why you little who-”

Toto stepped in front of you before your father could finish what was sure to be a very complementary sentence, “Verstappen, I would stop it right there if I was you.”

“I always knew Y/N was an embarrassment but even I didn’t expect for her to become a gold digger going after men her father’s age.”

Toto came to your rescue once again, “she’s far from a gold digger. Y/N is Mercedes’ Executive Engineer and Strategist. She’s a large reason why we beat your son all season long.”

“What she is,” Jos spit out, “is a shame to the Verstappen name.”

Toto resolutely held you close, “then it’s a good thing she won’t be a Verstappen for much longer.”

Taking the opportunity, you raised your entwined hands to show off the diamond ring that graced your ring finger since Toto took you on vacation to the Seychelles and surprised you with a beautiful proposal a week ago.

“Max, Jos … we’ll be sure not to invite you to the wedding.”

[rendomski]

The Domino Effect

Summary: Shaak Ti was often tempted to save some clone kids. AU, where she finally goes for it. And the ties of siblinghood run strong among the clones.

An impromptu ficlet, ~1000 words. Enjoy 🙂.

Force acts in mysterious ways, thinks Shaak Ti when she walks by the cadet barracks late in their night cycle and overhears the argument. Apparently, someone who doesn’t want to be called Hevy decided to go AWOL, and 99 is trying to persuade him otherwise.

Supervising kids that are raised with a sole purpose—to fight and die for the Republic—is a morally challenging task. Shaak has been tempted multiple times just to take on board as many kids as she can and whisk them far from this madness. Something tips the scales, finally, as she steps into the vast barracks and speaks, “So, you want to get away, cadet?”

They both freeze in shock.

“No, General, sir. Hevy wasn’t going to—” 99 begins, but not-Hevy interrupts him, staring with a desperate defiance.

“Yes, sir. I was planning to go AWOL.”

Shaak stares him back, but the kid, almost a grown-up—or what goes as grown-up nowadays, the cadets are shipped away even at a younger age than at the beginning of the war—does not budge.

“Alright,” says Shaak. “Is this your stuff? Take it and let’s go to my ship.”

“Sir?”

“You want to go AWOL? I can take you off-world on my ship. No one would dare search for you there.”

Not-Hevy grabs the bag with whatever he can claim as his own, but then hesitates.

“Sir, with your permission. My brother, CT-4040. Trainer Bric has it against him. He would do anything so that CT-4040 doesn’t pass his final test.” His eyes go wider as it dawns upon him how implausible the chance Shaak is offering him and how close he might be to failure by asking even more of her. He finishes nonetheless. “May I… may you take him away, too?”

Shaak’s confidence that she is doing the right thing blooms.

“Yes. You may take your brother with you.”

***

“Sir?”

“Yes, CT-4040?”

“Cutup, sir. My name is Cutup,” he glances at CT-782, who is stubbornly not Hevy. “Since tonight. So… Droidbait. CT-782, we’re not leaving him behind, like we did during the simulation, do we?”

Leaving behind during the simulation, this sounds very familiar. “Cadets, what squad are you from?” Shaak asks and nods upon the name, knowing already what comes. “I understand. Go for your brother, and bring Fives and CT-1409 along, too.”

***

“99, I am not leaving without you. We all owe you.”

The aged clone shakes his head, “No, Hevy. You go with the General. As for me, there are a few other troubled brothers that need my support here.”

Of course, five pairs of near-identical eyes stare at Shaak hopefully at the words. “General? You have some more space on your ship, don’t you, sir?”

She sighs. “Just be quiet. It is getting serious, so from now on, let's make it a stealth mission.”

“You've heard the General. It is a stealth mission.”

Exasperated groans, “We're standing right here, Echo,” follow.

***

“Sir?” Fives tugs at her sleeve with suspicious shyness. “It may sound crazy, but… Well, there is a girl here.”

“Oh, not again!”

“Don’t listen to him, General. He is making it all up. He has never met a girl in his life.”

“Well, I did! I keep telling you, and you idiots, refuse to believe me!” Fives snaps. “Sir, there is a girl here, working in the hospital. I met her. I talked to her.”

***

There is a girl, indeed. Experimental Medical Researcher 003, EMR-003 for short, whom Shaak has never met and never seen in any official documents. Moreso, she has never even heard of the Jango female clone program. And this gets extremely suspicious now. Her hunting instincts and the Force both sing to her that she is on the trail of something bigger.

“I am not the only one here, sir. There is one more girl, at least. She is different, but she is also one of us. I can get her out of the lab, I know the way.”

***

Another girl is different, for sure. Shaak can't grasp what is different about this kid—a five-year-old cadet at the most. Not the blond hair, there is a number of blond cadets around. There is something else, something elusive.

“Oh, you want to take us all off-world?” Omega, not EMR-something, notes Shaak, looks at the gang of clones with contagious joy and amazement. Cutup winks at her, and she waves back at him enthusiastically. “We must take my brothers with us!”

“We are all your brothers,” says no-longer-CT-1409-but-still-rather-reluctant Echo serenely.

“I know! But those are… They are my little brothers! And,” she saddens, her childish voice dropping almost to a whisper. “There are only four of them left.”

Shaak sighs. Alright, four more little kids, not a big difference.

***

…they happen to be not quite little kids, and it is finally clear what is different about Omega. The list of questions and problems grows ever longer. Shaak has hunted down and bitten more than she can chew.

She needs to take someone into the partnership in crime—Plo, most likely. And Obi Wan, who found Kamino in the first place, may have some valuable insights…

But first things first. Her navicomputer is still calculating the hyperspace route when a fight erupts in the back of the ship. And Fives is proudly showing EMR-003 around the ship, despite being here for the first time himself. Half of his explanations are totally wrong. Lanky, bespectacled cadet who has confidently strapped himself in the copilot seat and already asked Shaak three questions in a row, turns around and begins to correct him. Someone is asking loudly over the clamour whether her Jedi ship is equipped with guns.

Only 99 gazes silently into the starry void, mesmerised. Looking in his wizened face, Shaak Ti realises that this is his first time in space, despite his long and respectable age of thirteen.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I told my sister she wasn't entitled to everything just because she's pregnant?

I (19F) have a younger sister, E, who just turned 18. She got emancipated when she was 16, and moved out to go and live with her boyfriend (my age). E is currently 8 months pregnant. She shared with me, the day she found out, that her baby 100% does NOT belong to her boyfriend of 3 years. This is important because he continues to stay with her, much to his parents' discontent. She lived with him for about 6 months of her pregnancy, but absolutely trashed their house every day, refused to work, and refused to do anything around the house other than smoke weed in their bedroom, so they called our mom, and forced her to come and pick E up.

We let E stay at our house after that. It's important to note that we live in a 4 bedroom, where our youngest sibling still lives in our parents bedroom, and one of our other younger siblings had to give up their room for her to stay in. She got a job in our small town (~3000 people), and started to spread rumors at work about how terrible we were, how we were forcing her to work while pregnant, and taking all of her paycheck. None of which was happening. Our parents told E that she could either get a job and pay for some of the groceries, or she could give us her food stamps payments, which she usually sells for weed, as there are 4 other kids under the age of 18 in the house that they have to provide for. E later got fired for smoking weed in the bathroom of the restaurant where she worked. When we brought up how she'd need to give us that months food stamps for us to let her stay, because she got fired, she brought me into the argument. She said that since I was over 18, I should have to work as well to earn my spot in the house, when in reality, most of what I do all day is clean up after and take care of our younger siblings. My mom argued back on my behalf, saying that since I'm disabled, and my disability checks, as well as child support payments from my biological father, go to living expenses, I shouldn't be suddenly forced to move out when I do my share of work around the house. E blew up on our mom for defending me, citing her own history of mental health issues and her pregnancy, and left.

A few weeks ago, she came back, asking for a room while she waited for her new apartment to clear, as her boyfriend's parents had once again kicked her out. Our parents agreed, on the grounds that she stay in the trailer we have on the property, as opposed to taking over our younger sibling's room again, because she completely trashed it last time and refused to clean or fix anything she broke. She agreed.

Here's where I may be the asshole. Every time she's in the house proper, she badgers me to make her food, when I am clearly busy cleaning or taking care of one of our younger siblings. She takes over the chair that our mom has to sit in for her back issues, citing her pregnancy as to why she needs the extra back support. She uses our younger sister's expensive bath products, which she had to get a babysitting job to pay for herself, without asking, and didn't stop when asked, despite having her own bath products. She constantly complains about how I never do anything, despite the fact that while she says that, I'm actively cleaning up after her the same amount I am a literal four year old, while she never even lifts a finger to help out, or even make her own food. She does not pay for food, or pay any sort of rent at all, as she's only supposed to be here for a few more weeks. The absolute last straw for me was when I, a chronically ill person who has to have a very specific diet and meal replacement shakes, came out of my room to see her eating from a tupperware container literally labeled with my name, and drinking one of my meal replacement shakes.

Would I be the asshole if I told her that just because she's pregnant, that doesn't mean she's entitled to all of our things? I want to tell her that she needs to start making her own food, and cleaning up after herself, instead of forcing me to do it. I want to tell her that, just because I'm her older sister, that doesn't mean that I still have to take care of her like our 4 and 7 year old ones. That she doesn't need to keep taking from things specifically bought by/for another person in the house, without offering to pay for it or compensate?

WIBTA?

What are these acronyms?

[atranswomansdiary]

Day 61

August 5, 2020

I have a couple of confessions to make. Confession time!

First: I think I may be in love. Possibly. Maybe. Probably. If I am, I’ve been for the better part of the last year or so.

My dearly beloved is called J.N. I met them the way I’ve met most of my partners—through my nerd hobbies—and, the first time I saw her, my heart ached with the pain of finding someone so beautiful that they seemed to light the room. As I got to know her better I realize that we shared many tastes, likes, interests, and even perspectives on life, the future, society, etc. She's young, though, almost a decade younger than I am, so I’d be hesitant even if there wasn’t a huge obstacle in the way of my romantic fantasies.

J.N. is in a relationship.

I met her partner the same time I met her and, truth be told, I didn’t like him one bit. It may have been jealousy, I admit, but my gut instinct told me that he wasn't a nice person. And, in fact, I quickly realized that either we didn’t like each other or we just didn’t “vibe”, as the kids say these days.

Considering what happened in my second to last relationship—with P.R.—where I interfered in her relationship with a partner because I felt like she was “the woman of my dreams”, I’m not only hesitant but outright refuse to do the same thing ever again. Not only was our relationship miserable and painful for long parts of it, I’ve always known that interfering in relationships is just plain wrong and, the one time I broke my rule, it ended up in a lot of tears and suffering and self-loathing. I won’t do it again. Not for J.N. and not for anybody else.

Besides, I really like the relationship I have with J.N. right now. We’re good friends, we confide, and we support each other. What more could I ask? If she ever ends her relationship, maybe then I could consider confessing my feelings for them... But not before they’re in a position to start a new relationship.

So, giving this context, I think my following confession—the second and last for the day, I think—will make a little bit more sense.

I told J.N. that I’m "considering transitioning".

I can’t remember exactly how it all came about, but we were discussing how we were dealing with the solitude and isolation of the pandemic, and what new sources of pleasure or happiness have we discovered since the lockdown began, and I just blurted it out without thinking.

I had a few moments of panic—we were sending each other voice messages—as they were recording their reply but, once it came through, it was better than anything I could have hoped for! She was so understanding and supportive and warm and affectionate! I was over the moon and started telling her all about it, everything that has happened to me since the recurring dream with L.M. and the daydream and the things I’ve thinking about and the joy of the genderbent photo of Day 24 and well… Everything. I poured my heart and soul, my dreams and hopes and fears, the bundled mess that I am, into those messages.

And J.N. was so kind and caring and nice to me. She not only accepted me; I felt like she embraced me. Even celebrated me. She made me feel like the idea of transitioning is not so impossible after all. I’m not saying that it is possible now but, with people like this at my side, supporting me and, dare I say, loving me? Everything looks possible.

Even transitioning my 34-year-old ass.

The interesting part, of course, is that I told her first, before any of my other friends. J.N. is my newest friend; as I mentioned before, we met only a year or so ago. Still, I’ve felt such a connection and closeness with her that I cannot but suspect that she’ll be someone very important to me, not only now but in the future. Especially so if I decide to transition.

Even imagining that turning into a reality sends a shiver down my spine and makes me sweat. Before I would’ve said that it was pure fear and terror, but I think I detect more and more the presence of hope and faith in a future I cannot even envision.

May it'll one day be true and not the stuff of dreams.

Until then, with love,

ZZ

[sunshines-child]

"so how did you say you found them?" Alabaster asked, covering the children with one large warm blanket for two - Sal was dozing sweetly, and Bianco, who really turned out to be over 7 years old [Nico also always looked younger than his peers], trustfully clung to the older boy, wrapping his arms and legs around him like a little kitten hungry for affection. There were decorated coloring books on the floor, well-drawn pictures, [Sal had excellent artistic talent] assembled not tricky designs made of lego and cubes, a couple of soft toys and even a few dolls that Bianco seemed to particularly like, and some other children's things. Alabaster has always been generous when it comes to children. After some time of gentle communication, the children fell madly in love with Alabaster, calling him "Uncle Allie" [most likely none of them had fathers or a decent paternal figure, so the positive treatment from Alabaster was perceived so enthusiastically and joyfully]. "At the trash can," Nico exhaled, he wanted to smoke at least a few cigarettes and drink especially strong wine, "Sal was looking for food, and Bianco was his safety net... at first they were scared of me like wild kittens, but then I offered them food and medicine for Bianco, he has a cold and they relented". "I always thought that if Jackson had a bastard, he would at least take care of him or make sure that the unfortunate who got pregnant from him had an abortion" Alabaster spoke with malice, "But he will not leave the child on the streets.. I thought about him too well".

I am glad that you liked the fruit of my fantasies before going to bed based on your AU :]

Here are a few things I want to say:

•Canon!Percy and Canon!Nico chose their fake names in honor of their most beloved [Sal from Sally and Bianco is a manly variation of the name Bianca].

•Percy/Sal agreed to go home to AU!Nico only because it was Nico and canon!Nico was on the verge of running a cold and they were both starving to death.

•Percy/Sal agreed to go along with AU!Nico only because it was Nico, and canon!Nico was on the verge of getting his cold worse and they were both starving to death.

And I have a question - what form do you think Alabaster plans to use the canon in!Percy vs AU!Percy?

and what will be the relationship between AU!Nico and canon!Nico?

screamign cryign throwing up YOU WRIT ESO GOOD OH MY GODS On that note, Al's probably going to turn C!Percy into a fucking missile bomb threat to attack AU!Percy because even if he likes kids "he's still a Percy variant and I still have to kill that black-haired son of a bitch(AU)" AU!Nico to C!Nico is just when you give a cat a plush or something, and they huddle protectively around it and refuse to let you take it back. Kind of like:

[danielle-dna]

23 - Failure

It is hard when we fail. It is even harder when everyone around us makes us even more aware of it. My entire life I felt like a failure. The biggest instigator for my feelings of inadequacy was my primary school teacher.

For some reason the woman hated my guts. Which was weird, imagine having something seriously against a seven year old girl who is half your size. She insulted my artworks, so I stopped painting and drawing. She said I'm too slow and awkward, so I stopped trying to be faster and better at sprinting. She said I'm too slow at math, because I can't calculate in my head without writing stuff down, so I accepted that I simply suck at math. I accepted the fact that I am a failure.

Until recently. No more whining or feeling sorry for myself. I discovered long time ago that if good things don't come to you, you need to find the good things, no matter how long it takes. That woman may have set me up for failure, but I am one spiteful bitch, so I refuse to to make her vision come true.

This kind of psychological conditioning leaves your social skills seriously underdeveloped but that didn't stop Simon from inviting me over to spend some time with his friends from the military. I was very nervous. At that point I have already turned twenty two, however, they were still at least seven years older than me.

"But, Simon, what will they think about us, especially our age gap?" I was pacing around the lounge, waiting for his friends to show up. "I'll make sure that not a single one of 'em say anything that upsets you, don't you worry love."

The dreaded knock on the door followed.

Enter three very handsome men. I was already familiar with the man with the mohawk, Soap, and I could swear the one with the beard and fishing hat was the same man with the stern look I saw when Simon took me shooting. I have never seen the third man, but he did seem very friendly and even closer to my age.

After a few awkward handshakes I learned that the stern man was in fact the captain of Simons' squad! No wonder he was so stern and focused on his work when I saw him. The younger man was called Kyle, but they all called him Gaz for some reason.

I also learned that they are all on the same team and Gaz is only five years older than me. That alone made me feel like a baby. Even their youngest was older than me. I did my damndest to look older today. Make up, high heels, more mature outfit consisting of a long skirt and black t shirt that covered everything, combined with some simple gold jewelry. I still felt too immature to be in the same room as them.

But then my biggest fear realised became true: they started talking about football.

[caparrucia]

Hi there! Few days ago my brain randomly reminded me of Kingsglaive and hours later I ended up scrolling ao3 looking for fics that feature Nyx, any fic, hoping there're more fics for him than the last time i checked (years ago, i think?) and surprised there's a Cor and Nyx ship??? I mean... HOW? And why? But somehow I spent past three days reading your Cor/Nyx fic in ao3. Started with your "flower soulmates AU", classic trope, figured it'd be hard to go wrong with that. First sentence intrigued me, 8000 words later I was whisked away by the imagery, feelings and humor also a bit wistfulness sometimes. And then "glitter and gold". And then "the sun is out, the day is new" It was a JOY to read it! (holding back to read "always darkest before dawn" because, was it discontinued?) Your worldbuilding of Galahd culture (the Walk! the. WALK) it just fills this pockets of imagination for all these cultural aspects we’ve only got tiny glimpsed before. Your words pulled me in and now I am well and truly hooked on this ship hahaha. Just wanna say you're amazingly talented (superpower with words I swear) and thank you for writing about Nyx. 💜

So, first of all, thank you for your kind words and welcome to the CorNyx fandom, it's cozy and fun!

I do want to say I am not and have never claimed to be patient zero for the CorNyx ship, but I did write a fic specifically to infect as many people as possible with my ship because... you know. I'm a writer, that's what I do. :P

Why Cor and Nyx? To me personally because I watched Kingsglaive, watched the speech Nyx gave the Lucii and went "huh, so he's just Cor but younger" and that thought immediately spawned a need to see these two butting heads (and other things!) ASAP. Cor is my darling boy, mostly because he's a shonen action hero that grew up, and he's forty fucking five years old and still wears red sole shoes and three shirts layered like it's cool. He's a moron, I love him.

Nyx is Nyx! Kingsglaive spent so long painting a picture of an interesting main character shafted into side character status - a thing that XV does a lot, in that the bros are all flavor of Main Character, while Noctis is very much refusing the call at every step he can - and I'm so very fond of him.

So hey, let's write a story to chew on the idea and see if I can convince people to ship it. The story was the sun is out, the day is new, and the answer was overwhelmingly yes! And so here we are. XD

always darkest before dawn is and isn't abandoned, in the sense that I realized I needed to rewrite some bits and I might as well scrap it all and rewrite it from scratch but that takes time and I've been drowning in work and getting swallowed by other fandoms in the meantime so it's been a while. I need to get to it because I need people to know what's the deal with Prompto, because it's so good. SO GOOD. I love my boy.

glitter and gold exists purely because of the awesome @garbria, and if you want some quality CorNyx, well. /Will Smith memes. She's got you covered, trust me. /chef kiss

And if you've still got a hungering for more CorNyx from me, I know it's still on going and truth is I update once a year at this rate, but it is my baby and I try my best not to post cliffhangers (or to resolve them quickly, lmao) but you might want to give nature of the beast a try. It's got teeth, for all it's very soft and squishy in its own way.

[sl33py-day]

Natsu Tenokami- Emperors Daughter

Nastu | Emperors Daughter | 24 years old | Manipulative + Clingy

There's a few things you need to know before we talk about Natsu in general. In 1635, Japan made a law called the Sakoku decree which limited foreign trade from other regions. Sakoku translated into English is ‘country in chains’ which basically means what it means. No Japanese citizen could leave the country without a really good reason to do so and even then it was hella difficult and expensive. The same restrictions have been happening way before 1635 but the sakoku decree made it impossible to even go anywhere near or anywhere out of japan.

If you're one of the traders you could only go to China and China only. This goes with foreigners as well, Nagasaki was the only port of which trade would be conducted and even then royal guards would watch over and make sure nothing of christian variety would go through trade. During this time southern Japan (Mainly Kyushu) has seen an increase of catholic converters which the imperial emperor found as a threat. Many catholic citizens were killed due to them not converting back or were killed if they didn’t agree to move to a small island off the coast of Japan.

Now that is done and explained in the best way possible let's move on to the main reason we are here.

Nastu was born before the sakoku decree, in the winter of 1611, where everything was still a bit strict with trading but wasn’t to an extent of murder on site. At a young age she would play with the children from the nearby village that laid at the bottom of her imperial fortress. The only issue with this is that her father, Kibishi Tenokami, saw this activity as horrifying and brought dishonesty to the imperial family. ‘No daughter of mine should play with that of commoners’ her father would say on the daily once he found out she went to play in the village. However she would still go down to play since her father wouldn’t dare hurt her in any physical way and only kept her in the fortress for a week max as punishment.

She had 1 older brother, Nobaru, who would be the heir of the throne once he came of age and a younger brother, Kibo, who would be the second heir to the throne if the original heir were to unexpectedly die. Her mother passed away after childbirth due to complications and blood loss. Her father as mentioned earlier is strict with who she talks with others and definitely controls what she does on occasions which is probably why she becomes manipulative towards her lover.

Here's a little side note about Natsu, while yes she did grow up without a mother doesn’t mean she didn’t have a mother figure in her life. That's where her personal assistant Aio comes into play. Aio was 20 when she took care of baby Natsu and was about 36 when Natsu had her first crush. To keep it simple, Aio wasn’t much help and probably didn’t tell her that she was doing something wrong.

At 16 Natsu fell in love with a boy in the village she used to go to as a child. At that time she hasn’t gotten much attention or affection from her father so she quickly became attached to this village boy. Her father heavily disapproved of this and banned Natsu from visiting him, going as far as threatening Aio into locking Natsu in her room at night as well as locking the windows.

Aio, feeling bad for having to do this to a child, she let Natsu visit the boy in the village every week for one night. This kept happening as the months went by and only did it stop when Natsu found out that the village boy she once loved didn’t love her back in the same way. She ended up telling Aio in broken sobs that her lover truly didn’t love her back.

“What am I supposed to do Aio? I-I thought he loved me! H-How could he just fall for some…some ragged village girl! I could’ve given him anything he wanted!”

She spent hours in her room heartbroken, her brothers didn’t know what was going on and tried to help but she refused saying stuff along the lines of ‘I hate this family, if i wasn’t his daughter I could’ve had him!’ which confused the two brothers since they didn’t know who this unknown man was that their sister had unknowingly fallen in love with.

It was only when Natsu came up with the idea to just get rid of the boy who was causing her so much stress and pain in her heart. So after a few days, the village boy disappeared and was never seen again by anyone. Aio helped hide any evidence in fear she would get caught letting Natsu out at night.

Years have passed since that fateful day, rumors came and gone like the morning breeze, none really stayed put into the solid ground in fear the Emperor would cause all hell to break loose. Natsu realized her mistake, even though she doesn’t really feel any guilt. It was the boy's fault for not loving her back.

In my view of the AU I have created I would imagine something like this to happen for Natsu to meet her Darling (Aka male reader)

It was early in the morning with just enough light to pass crates to one another and for the guards to watch everything. She didn’t really want to be there watching the transaction happen but she couldn’t stand Nobaru’s whines and begs for her to at least watch what happens behind the scenes. This was the fourth time he asked and ,to her very reluctant pleasure, she agreed. Which is why she sits alone in the cold morning air at this very moment.

She sat on one of the stone stairs with her elbow on her knee, her gray blue eyes lazily glossing over all the traders one by one with not a single ounce of interest. A slight frown stood on her face, showing how unhappy she was to be here in the exact moment. The chitter chats of the traders talking with the imperial guards filled Natsu’s ears. She couldn’t even pick out what even one trader was saying due to how hushed they talked. That was until something caught her eye. A small group of traders huddled around one of the crates in a bout of confusion. A small cloud of air showed right in front of the blackette’s lips as she sighed. Slowly standing up from the cold pebble stairs the soft clicks of her heels as she walked down the steps quickly quieted everyone near.

“What’s going on here? This isn’t a small party, we should be hurrying the produce onto land.” Her voice was strict but had the flow of sweet honey as she talked, all of the traders stuttered out a response only for one of the guards to walk over and randomly grab down into the crate and pulled out a H/c boy who seemed quite afraid.

Natsu’s eyes widen in shock, she hasn’t seen a foreigner in years if not decades since her father put the Sakoku decree in place. She was quite mezmorized at the exotic features of the man. Even though he was covered in dirt that soiled his commoner clothes his eyes were such a pretty e/c that Natsu couldn’t look away. His hair was covered in dirt and knots probably formed from the rough journey but Natsu didn’t care.

“Let me go!” The unknown boy yelled in both fear and anger as the royal guards held his forearms in a bone crushing grip so he wouldn’t escape. It was chaos as some guards ran to get the emperor while others stood their ground and watched the boy. Natsu knew what was gonna happen next, they would take the boy near the water and slice his head clean off with one of the sharp swords they had. She can’t have that, for some reason she felt compelled to do something to save this boys life.

“Hold your ground!” Natsu yelled above the roaring chaos making everyone stop and turn towards her in confusion and slight annoyance. Her brother Nobaru was even more confused as she walked her way to the unknown boy and ripped him from the guards grip.

“He’s the servant I have requested not to long ago, I wasn’t aware of when he would come. So I’m sorry for not informing you earlier.” Natsu’s grip on the boy loosened quite a bit as he stood confused but happy as he was dragged without further instructions towards the Imperial fortress.

If only he knew that life would’ve been much better if his head was chopped off then.

-Hello! How was the first Oc introduction? Some feedback would be appreciated as well as reposting! Have a good day/night-

[cyantomatos]

Even Stars Will Fall - Ch 6

Pairing: Eventual Oberyn Martell x fem!Reader x Ellaria Sand  Word Count: ~2.5k Warnings: Rylan is a creep, talk of death (in the past) Notes: Uh...surprise? Listen I am just as upset as you guys that it’s taken me this long to update 😅. I really am sorry, I’ve wanted to work on this story, but every time I sat down to write it I just couldn’t. The next chapter is already written, I’ll put that out in a couple weeks, and I’m hopeful that I’m going to be able to keep up with writing now. Crossing my fingers, but I’m not promising anything because I really don’t want to disappoint you guys if I disappear again.

Last Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

The first time Oberyn remembers his elder brother acting as a ruling Prince of Dorne was in his 16th year.

With the rumors swirling of his blade being poisoned in the duel with Lord Edgar Yronwood, his brother had called Oberyn to his office. Doran had only been the ruling prince for a few years by then, and had not as of yet had any reason to call an official meeting with his younger brother.

The two had never been particularly close, Doran being almost 13 by the time Oberyn was born, but they were still family. Doran believed his brother’s protests that the blade was not poisoned - Oberyn would not start to experiment with poisons for another few years yet - but the prince still knew he needed to appease House Yronwood.

And so Oberyn was banished to a temporary exile.

The next visit to his brother’s office was years later, after his exile is finally over and Robert’s Rebellion is quelled. News of the rebellion had reached across the Narrow Sea, and Oberyn had been incensed at the fact that he was unable to fight, relegated to a far off country with only weeks-old news to get him by.

The news of Ellia’s death hit him hard. He was unable to enter that office again for years. The sight of his brother behind the desk their mother had sat behind and her father before that and generations of Martel’s back that suddenly seemed far too large for Doran only brought back memories Oberyn wasn’t ready to face yet.

He blamed his brother for a while - for his inability to keep their sister safe, for banishing Oberyn where Oberyn couldn’t keep their sister safe. Then he blamed himself - if he had fought harder, if he’d snuck back into Dorne like he originally intended, if he had just been better.

Suffice to say, Oberyn hated being called to his brothers office. Nothing good ever came from an official summons from the elder Prince of Dorne in Oberyn’s experience, and he had a feeling today was not about to prove him wrong.

“It seems our cousin has finally settled on a wife.” Doran’s statement was met with a snort from Oberyn as the younger brother came to stand in front of the desk.

“I pity the poor woman that ends up shackled to Rylan. To whom should I send my condolences?” Doran only met him with a level stare, the silence from his brother all Oberyn needed to draw his own conclusions and for a pit of dread to begin forming in his stomach.

What was it about this office and bad news?

“Tell me I am assuming wrong, brother.” A note of pleading that very rarely showed itself entered Oberyn’s voice, and he felt the sinking feeling in his stomach only grow as Doran grimaced.

“I wish I could. He was here while the three of you were visiting Amphise. I must admit, even if I were able to grant his request, I do not think I would be inclined. I have no desire to see the girl tied to Rylan, regardless of his relation to our family.” Oberyn let himself relax slightly at that, although he couldn’t quite shake the urge to hunt his cousin down for even looking in your direction.

He flexed his hand at his side, letting a long breath out his nose before he responded.

“You refused then, I assume?”

Doran inclined his head in confirmation, still looking rather grim. “She is not a citizen of Dorne, regardless of where she might be from. I do not have the power to force her hand, and I am glad of it.” The prince let out a sigh, watching his brother closely. “That does not mean he will not go to her directly, however. With her having no male relatives here he has the option of attempting to persuade her himself, and if she were to agree I would have equally little say in the matter.”

Oberyn’s jaw clenched hard enough for his teeth to grind together, swiftly looking away from Doran out the open window. He knew if he only took a few steps he might see you in the garden below, although you were equally as likely to be working in one of the other gardens today. The urge to go find you immediately, to ensure his cousin had not yet attempted to convince you and make sure you were safe, threatened to overwhelm him for a moment.

It took him a moment to realize what was happening.

When he had first met Ellaria, there was an undeniable attraction. He should have recognized the signs with you, the way he was drawn to both of you with no say in the matter, but he had been under the assumption one could only have a single soulmate. As soon as the bond with Ellaria was confirmed, and more importantly as soon as he recognized it, that pull had snapped into something more tangible. For a while after, any perceived threat to either of them stirred something primal in the other.

It was happening again with you, possessive instincts he prided himself on being able to ignore were rising to the surface in an attempt to protect you, and he could do little to stop it.

Doran’s voice broke through his turbulent thoughts. “Oberyn. What did Amphise say?”

He turned back to his brother, jaw clenching further at the knowing frown on his brother’s face.

“She is a seer, as we assumed. Her powers were likely suppressed by being in her world and so far from ours. Amphise is willing to train her to ensure she does not grow out of control.” Oberyn paused, eyes lowering to stare at Doran’s desk. “And she is mine and Ellaria’s second soulmate.”

A heavy silence filled the room, and when Oberyn looked up he didn’t find as much surprise on his brother’s face as he expected. Doran only leaned back in his chair, hands folded in his lap, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“I am…not overly surprised. You have been just as drawn to her since she arrived as you were to Ellaria, although I assumed it was because of the mystery she presented.”

A beat of silence later, “I assume she does not know?” Oberyn let out a strained laugh at that, crossing his arms and glancing away. “No. We decided we would wait to tell her. Ellaria is worried she would either not understand, or feel pressured to be with us because of the bond. Her world…it is less understanding.”

Doran only nodded, a thoughtful look on his face as he studied his brother. “You will have to tread lightly on this, Oberyn.”

Oberyn nodded, a resigned look on his face.

“I know.”

“You aren’t concentrating, girl.” The sharp words cause you to let out a frustrated sigh, slumping in your seat.

I am, Amphise, but you can’t expect me to figure this out in a week. You said seer’s are trained from childhood, how am I supposed to catch up?” There’s a whine in your voice that you don’t like, but the last several very long days training – or attempting to train – with Amphise have left you tired and irritable.

If you were honest with yourself, it was more than the less-than-satisfactory attempts to gain some kind of control over your new-found powers that was frustrating you. You’d been somewhat avoiding Oberyn and Ellaria since your revelation in the garden, and it was starting to wear on you. Combine that with the frustrating training and Oberyn’s cousin Rylan suddenly appearing around you constantly, you were frazzled to say the least.

A sharp tap to the back of your hand with Amphise’s paper fan brought you back from your internal debate about which slimy creature Oberyn’s cousin reminded you of the most. She was staring at you sternly, disappointment written clearly on her face.

“You are afraid of your powers. That fear is holding you back. I did not tell you the stories about what other seer’s have done with their power to frighten you, child. I told you so that you would know the consequences if you did not control your powers.” The reminder of the stories Amphise had told you last week felt like a pit in your stomach. You were scared of your powers, but you were also well aware that better control over them would help prevent those stories from becoming your reality.

“I know that, Amphise. I can’t help my fear, though. I’m afraid I won’t ever gain control and I’ll end up like those girls.” Your teacher’s face softens just slightly at your words, and she lets out a sigh, leaning forward.

“It is possible I am going about teaching you wrong. I have taught many seers, but all of them were born here and discovered as children. It is much easier to teach children to do something scary, adults have learned fear already.” She sits back, a look of contemplation coming across her face.

Several silent moments pass before she stands, gesturing towards the house. Your classes thus far have taken place in the same outside sitting area you had met her in last week, fragrant breezes blowing through the garden as you learned.

Or attempted to learn.

“We will end early today, child. You need rest, and I need to think.”

Your excitement at being let go early quickly turns sour as you step out of the carriage back at the palace. Rylan is coming out the front entrance, and the way his eyes light up like he’s looking at a prize horse when he sees you sends a disgusted chill down your spin. He changes course from the carriage he had been heading towards to walk towards you, and you take a moment to arrange your face in a less please-get-away-from-me expression.

“Lord Rylan, what a pleasant surprise.” You hope how not pleasant you think this is doesn’t come through in your voice. The last thing you need is a spoiled lord that is obviously jealous of his cousins kicking up a fuss for you being rude.

He chuckles, stopping about one step too close for your comfort. Not that anywhere near you was far enough away as far as you were concerned.

“I do hope one day you will be comfortable dropping my title like you do with my cousin.” You give what you hope comes across as more of a grin and less of a grimace, shrugging one shoulder noncommittally.

“We’ll see, I suppose.”

Rylan’s grin falters for a moment, and he glances over towards his awaiting carriage. “I was just heading out to see a play being put on, something about a tragic love story. Would you like to accompany me?”

You squash your immediate ‘I would rather eat live worms’ response and give a polite smile, shaking your head. “I’m a little tired today, I’m afraid. I was planning to go take a bath and then a nap. I apologize, Lord Rylan.”

Despite the rejection his expression doesn’t falter this time as he shrugs. “Next time then, my dear.”

You wait what you hope is an appropriate time as he walks away to shudder and head inside. Spending time with a deadly viper sounds more appealing to you than spending time with Rylan, alone or not.

Later that evening as the sun is setting you’re out in the main garden, checking on some of the flowers. Solomon had mentioned the day before he was worried about the Jester’s Tassels in the current heat. It had been warmer than normal the last few days, apparently, and he was worried they would wilt.

A shadow falls over the flowers you’re currently checking on, and you look up to see Ellaria smiling down at you. “I think at this rate we may have to hire you as a gardener, love. You seem to live out here lately.”

You smile despite the anxiety at seeing Ellaria, looking back down at the flowers. “I loved gardening back home, too, I just wasn’t very good at it. The plants here seem to like me better.” Yet another thing to add to the list of reasons it seems like you belong here more than anywhere else.

Another reason sits down on the garden wall next to you, gazing down at the vibrant purple and gold blooms. There’s a beat of silence, and despite your recent avoidance of the two of them just being next to Ellaria feels more like home than you remember your world ever feeling like.

“Oberyn’s name day is next week. There will be a large party, and I am afraid I might be under selling it a little just calling it large.” She pauses, folding her hands together in her lap. “Will you attend?”

You glance up, frowning. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Ellaria smiles slightly, shrugging a shoulder. “It has felt a little like you are avoiding us lately, dove. Although I suppose that could just be Oberyn’s ego speaking.”

You duck your head to look at the flowers again, guilt filling you as you shake your head. “I’ve just been busy with Amphise is all. I’ll be there.” You look up again, trying to ignore how the lie just makes you feel more guilty. “Do you give presents for name days?”

“Usually, yes, although not always. Especially for princes. Oberyn has everything he could want, and he usually dislikes getting the type of useless and lavish presents people get for a prince.” She grins, leaning down towards you. “For his twenty-first name day one of his mothers cousins gave him a set of sheets spun entirely of pure gold thread. I have never heard him complain for so long about the frivolity of the rich before.”

You grin at the story, imagining a younger Oberyn ranting about rich people for hours to a despairing Ellaria.

Ellaria straightens up, placing a hand on your leg. “You, however, will not be expected to get him a gift. I can help you find something small he would like, if you wish, but Oberyn will not expect anything from you, dove.”

You look back down at the flowers, frowning. It makes sense that Oberyn wouldn’t expect anything from you, since it’s not like you had much to give him anyway, but you still felt like you should get him something. It felt rude to show up to what was essentially a birthday part with no gift, even if it was a massive birthday party for a prince who already had everything he could possibly want.

Soft fingers brushed against your temple, pushing your hair back out of your face. Ellaria’s hand slides down, cupping your jaw to lift your head. She’s smiling softly at you, and the combination of her touch and the open affection on her face dazes you for a moment. “I can practically hear you thinking. I promise, just your presence will make Oberyn happy.”

Later that night, lying in bed, you’re still thinking about the conversation. Partly to replay what Ellaria’s touch felt like in your mind, and partially because you still can’t shake the feeling that you need to find something to get Oberyn.

When you finally manage to calm your mind enough to begin to drift off, you’re pulled out of your almost-sleep with a sudden idea.

You know exactly what to get Oberyn.

Taglist: I know tags are being kinda iffy, but I’m still going to put them in because I don’t have that many so it doesn’t take much time

@sarahjkl82-blog @ecuadorlady @fan-of-encouragement @knivesareout @writeforfandoms @gorgeousgrogu @leto-duke @xoxabs88xox @kirsteng42 @hauntedmama @urofficial-cyberslut @marvelousmermaid @tanzthompson @lowlights @dobbyjen​ @tanzthompson​

Join my taglist here!

[ghostiewriter]

JJ was fucking sick of it all. 

He was sick and tired of being poked and prodded and asked the same fifty questions on a loop as they wheeled him in and out of different medical tests, just for them all to come back and say the same thing. 

He was fine. He was a bit roughed up, and the broken ribs weren’t exactly helping his case considering it hurt to breathe deeply at that current moment. But he was fine. He could’ve been far worse, and he was grateful that (hopefully) some rest for the next four weeks would see him safe enough to get back in the car before the next race. 

He hated hospitals on a normal day, but knowing that Guiseppe was actively pushing for him to have test after test was putting the old Italian man further down his list for each day he spent locked up in the hospital room. 

He didn’t want to be here right now. 

He wanted to be in a different hospital room. He wanted to be with Kiara. He wanted the nurses and doctors to stop ignoring his questions like he was a whining child. He wanted to know if she was okay because it had been almost two days since he last saw her with his own eyes, since he jumped out of that medic bay bed despite the pain coursing through his body just so he could stop her from hitting the ground. 

It has been almost two days since the massive blow up and nobody was telling him shit, and it was starting to get to him. 

He had a few drivers visit before they left to head off with their summer break plans. John B had been the first to visit, a grim expression on his face when he saw one of his oldest friends in the hospital bed. He was surprised that the other Mercedes driver, Klaus König, showed up too. There were a few others, the ones that JJ had remained friendly and cordial with over the years. 

Neither Red Bull driver bothered showing their face—and he was thankful for that. He didn’t have much against Octavian, but if Rafe had shown his face, JJ didn’t think he would apologise for what he did. 

But Nate also didn’t show up. 

JJ tried not to feel hurt by the action. He knew that Nate was going through a lot, that he was hurting and he was confused. Hell, JJ was still quite confused himself. But a small part of him hoped that Nate would visit, that he would pop his head in because it meant he was here. It meant that he had seen Kiara. 

But John B was the one to break it to him that the older Carrera sibling was spotted back in Monaco a few hours after the race. 

His chest tightened a little at the implications. 

The only regular visitor he had was Sarah Cameron, which was a shock to him too. He was friendly with the younger Cameron, in the same way you could be with passing greetings and polite smiles. But he knew she was close to Kiara, he knew she cared about Kiara. He didn’t realise she would care enough to check up on him too. 

And despite her checkups, she refused to say much about Kiara’s condition. She said it was because there wasn’t much to update him on, but it wasn’t good enough for him. 

So, when a knock sounded on his door, he didn’t even lift his head up from his phone screen as he spoke. 

“Miss me already, Cameron?” he called out in a teasing voice, his eyes glancing over a variety of messages he received from his team over the last few days. However, when he received no snarky reply in return, he lifted his head. 

Only to find it wasn’t Sarah Cameron at his door, but Anna Carrera. 

“Mrs—” he cut himself short when she gave him a pointed look. A shy smile spread across his face as he sat up in bed. “Anna. You’re here.” 

“I am,” she said with a somewhat strained smile. “You look…well.” 

But JJ noticed it. He noticed the weariness in her expression. He noticed the bags under her eyes, the stress of the last few days and the toll it took on her. He noticed the way she was wringing her fingers together, as though she didn’t even realise what she was doing. He noticed the way she swallowed a little too harshly, and he wondered how long she had been trying to keep herself together. 

“You don’t have to pretend around me,” he said in a softer voice. “You don’t have to pretend like you aren’t worried.” 

In all honesty, JJ couldn’t imagine what Anna Carrera was going through. He knew that Nate’s accident a few years ago had hit her hard, that it scared her badly enough that her son still raced. He wondered if she was watching the race, if she saw the Ferrari go off and fear that it was her son once again.

But his words seemed to break some resolve inside Anna because the second he stopped talking, she was striding across the room towards him. JJ barely had a moment to blink before Anna’s arms were wrapped around him, one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his head. 

“Thank god you’re okay,” Anna breathed out, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders now that he was in her arms. “I was so worried.” 

“Oh,” was all JJ was able to say in response because he didn’t quite think this would be a possibility. 

He thought his crash would’ve brought up bad memories. He thought she would’ve been concerned at the fact it could’ve been her son. He thought about every other possibility except that Anna Carrera would be worried about him.

“I tried to weasel some information out of Nate but he didn’t know how you were doing,” Anna admitted as she pulled back, holding his face like a mother would. 

JJ found himself enjoying the touch. 

“I’m so proud of you,” Anna murmured. 

His brows furrowed together. “For crashing?” 

But Anna shook her head. “JJ, honey, you almost lost your life and you’re sitting here stronger than ever. That takes a lot of strength to do so, even if you don’t want to admit it.” 

“I think more people would be upset that I cost the team and myself a win,” he mused as he tried to keep his voice casual. 

“Those people’s opinions aren’t worth your time then,” Anna stated simply. 

JJ stared at the woman in front of him. From the sincerity in her eyes to the genuine belief she had in her words, it made his throat close up and his chest tighten—and a sickly sweet voice in the back of his head telling her she was right. Those people weren’t worth his time even if he didn’t want to hear it. 

“Uh,” he cleared his throat, trying not to think of how warm his cheeks felt. “How’s Kiara? Have you been able to see her?”

A slow smile spread across Anna’s face. “The nurses told me you’ve been asking about her.” 

“Have they also told you how they’ve avoided answering my questions?” JJ asked with raised brows. 

“They said you were persistent,” she laughed as she perched herself on the edge of the bed, just by his knees. “She’s doing okay. She’s stable, but she’s not staying awake for longer than a few minutes at a time.” 

His lips turned downwards. “Will she be okay?” 

“She will, honey, don’t worry,” Anna assured him as she reached for his hand, squeezing it softly. “Her body just needs some time to rest.”

“I’m sorry—” he started but Anna shook her head. 

“Whatever happened was not your fault,” Anna said. 

“It wasn’t hers either,” JJ added quickly. “Or Nate’s. Not really. I mean, he could’ve handled it better but Rafe—”

“JJ,” she called softly, letting the boy take a breath. “I know.”

“I want to see her,” he admitted. 

“You need to rest as well,” Anna told him. “Kie won’t be happy if she knew you were risking your own health to see her.” 

“I would at least like them to update me about her then,” he huffed out, almost whining like a child. 

“I’ll keep you updated now that I’m here,” Anna said with a soft laugh, squeezing his hand once again. “Thank you for what you’ve been to Kiara these last few months. You’ve helped her grow out of her shell a little.” 

“She’s helped me too,” JJ responded, almost instinctively. 

“I’m sure she has,” Anna smiled knowingly, and it should’ve made him uneasy. But something about Anna Carrera’s presence comforted him. 

Maybe that was just the effect the Carrera women had on him.

...

[ailelie]

Plot Bunny: Wen Qing Reincarnates

Wen Qing reincarnates into the Nie sect almost immediately after dying. She grows up Nie Lian and has a great aptitude for medicine that surprises her family. As soon as she starts learning to use a saber, she realizes the problem the resentful energy will cause. She has an intuitive knowledge of resentment she cannot explain. She does experiments that help her immediate family, but her activities do not draw much other attention. Nie Huaisang is aware of her talents, but he is also very distracted with revenge/justice and feigned incompetence. He supports her by not opposing her.

Then, when Wei Wuxian returns to the world, Nie Lian wakes up with the memories of Wen Qing. She is only 16 years old, but she is now both Lian and Qing. She's less guarded than before given how much support and protection she'd enjoyed as Lian, but she also gets a bit sharper and less patient as the memories settle in.

At first she does nothing. Then everything at the temple happens. Then she learns Wei Wuxian is alive again and her brother still lives. Then she learns the Golden Core Transfer is no longer secret.

She requests permission to visit Yunmeng and Gusu under the guise of expanding her medical knowledge. In reality, she wants to see Jiang Cheng for herself and find some way to apologize now that he knows the truth. Then she wants to hug her brother and hit Wei Wuxian for wasting her and the rest of the remnants' sacrifice.

She introduces herself as Nie Qinglian. She refuses to deny either part of who she is. While she is in Yunmeng, Jiang Cheng is injured. His usual doctor is absent (doing rounds along the pier probably) so Qinglian steps forward and takes command of the situation. She helps him. Then, when she thinks he is asleep, she talks to him. She apologizes for the Core Transfer and for keeping Wei Wuxian in the Burial Mounds for so long. Then she says she wishes she had kept the comb.

The problem is, Jiang Cheng had been asleep, but her voice coaxed him awake. Given how confusing her words were, he'd continued to feign sleep. When she mentions the comb, though, his eyes fly open.

"Wen Qing?"

And this 17 year old Nie disciple stares at him, her face slowly turning pink. "You were supposed to be asleep."

"Who are you?" he demands.

"Apparently I've reincarnated," she tells him. "I regained my memories last year. From what I understand, it happened around when your brother returned."

Jiang Cheng snorts. "Of course this is his fault."

"Would you like me to leave?" she asks, dryly.

"No," he says, sitting up too quickly and wincing for the effort.

"Lay back down. I didn't spend the past five hours saving your life only for you to undo all my hard work."

He lays back, but reaches out to catch her hand. "I'm glad you're here."

"I am sorry," she says. "I don't know if you heard that part."

"You can make it up to me."

"How?" she asks.

"Stay," he says with a yawn. "All I've ever wanted is for people to stay."

"All right," she says.

When he awake again, Jiang Cheng realizes that Wen Qing or Qinglian as she is now, will want to see Wen Ning. And Wei Wuxian. And that Lan kid they're pretending isn't actually a Wen.

He calls for some paper and writes his brother a letter.

A few days later, instead of a reply, Wei Wuxian descends on Lotus Pier with Lan Wanji, Lan Sizhui, and Wen Ning in tow. They all have a very tearful reunion. Qinglian both looks nothing and everything like Wen Qing. She is so much younger than he is now. He'd thought nothing of her when she had only been Nie Qinglian, but now that he knows she is also Wen Qing, he wants to hold her and never let go.

Qinglian does stay in Lotus Pier. Nie Huaisang has figured out who she is and does not insist she return. She and Jiang Cheng engage in a strange courtship where both sides are very uncertain of the other's regard. He doesn't want to trap her. She worries he can only love part of her. But after about a year, a few days after her 18th birthday, they share a kiss and he asks her to marry him.

She accepts.

[amberlide]

Garreth Weasley head-canons

As I already did Natty and Leander, here we go with Garreth. I am a bit hesitant on these as I know many people have their own, but these are personal and related to my fanfiction.

Be nice <3

Sibling Relationships:

Garreth has two older brothers: Edmund and Oliver, and two younger siblings: Charlotte and Hector.

His favorite brother is Edmund, who always tastes his home-made brews. However, after an incident involving Gillyweed, Edmund has become a bit more hesitant.

Family Dynamics:

Garreth is sweet and caring, attributes fostered by a close-knit family. Coming from a modest background, taking care of each other is paramount, especially with two younger siblings relying on him.

First year at Hogwarts was difficult as he was not used to called his aunt Prof. Weasley but rather Aunt Millie. This gained an infinite hours of detention and loss of points for Gryffindors XD

Early Memories:

You can't be this sweet and caring without great role-models in your life. When Garreth was a few months old, five-year-old Edmund heard him crying in the night. To avoid waking their parents, Edmund took Garreth to the living room to comfort him. Mrs. Weasley found them the next morning, asleep together on the couch, a moment that reaffirmed the special bond among her children.

Passion for Potions:

Garreth's love for potions sparked at a very young age. Every Christmas, Mr. Weasley would bring home a crate of Butterbeer to celebrate, in a very poor family this made the celebration very special. The taste intrigued Garreth, inspiring a desire to recreate something similar yet affordable to spread joy, much like Butterbeer did for him. Did Oliver try to give him alcoholic Butterbeer? Sure, but we don't talk about this XD

Skill in Potion-making:

He’s the middle born of a large family, with Edmund being the everyone’s favorite and so good in everything, but also very modest, Oliver being the prankster who excels in charms and Charlotte being the pretty and quirky witch of the family with a knack for magical creatures (Hector is too little) he wanted to find something for himself.

He has a unique eye condition, he’s not color-blind, but he can’t see certain shades of the same color. As he will explain to Pen most people relies on their eyesight to check on their potions, since he cannot rely only on that, he has to use his other senses as well: smell and hearing. This gave him an edge.

Entrepreneurial Spirit:

He started his business at Hogwarts as a potionist as a way to make money to buy ingredients for his brew. Everything started one day when Edmund asked him to help him prepare a calming drought for a friend who was having panic attacks. He soon started receiving more orders that he could handle.

Personal Quirks:

Despite his accomplishments, Garreth loathes his freckles, getting quite upset when Pen dubbed him an "ugly freckled mug."

He has an never ending crush on Poppy since the second year, which was apparent to Natty during their first class together, but Lee never noticed XD

He will never ever retort to violence to solve conflicts, he has other ways, thanks to his business he knows his clients' secrets and he’s not afraid of use them when threaten. 

He refuses to brew illegal potions, he already has enough problems with his aunt as it is.

He’s easy to scare, to much delight of Lee and Natty who always convince him to come to the Old Fool haunted house for Halloween (and make bets on him).   

When he's nervous he always pushes his lock of hairs away from his forehead to give space to his mind to breath XD

Literary Interests:

Garreth is an avid fan of the "Emerald Quill" novel series, which follows a gentleman thief executing magical heists. He often spoils the plot for Lee, who's attempted to read the series multiple times without success.

This means, he’s not afraid of stealing when necessary XD

[darkdevasofdestruction]

If you're still taking death mark requests. The reader convincing daimon to take a break and get some sleep, maybe with some very convincing cuddles? People tend to get sleepy when they feel safe :)

-@dragon-anon

The hospital was always bustling with activity, and today was no exception. Daimon, as usual, moved from one patient to another, barely taking a moment to breathe, let alone stay hydrated or eating at least a protein bar the entire day. His expertise and dedication made him invaluable, even in spite of his lack of manners when talking to the patients, but it also meant he was constantly in demand - And he can blame that on himself only. You watched him from the window of your office; concern etched on your face as you saw the exhaustion in his eyes. It had been over two weeks of non-stop work on his shoulders, to the point that he hadn't the time to return home and sleep; Hell, he even showered at the hospital.

You'd been working together at the hospital for over a decade - That's how you two met and got together. Your relationship only strengthened when you both received the Mark and fought for your lives; And then, during the Konoehara tragedies... Still, years passed since then, and Shuuji only took more work on his shoulders. Sure, he was frustrated that his younger colleagues weren't doing things properly, and the older ones were too old to take on so much work.

What was worse - It wasn't the patient-care that destroyed him... It was the mountains of paperwork he was piled under. He was determined to do everything himself, so that you would be able to return home and have a proper lifestyle; Eat, drink, sleep, relax, repeat -- much unlike him.

It had been days since he had a proper break, a day off, and you knew he couldn't keep going like this. His sickness was getting worse by the minute due to all the strain he was putting on himself. Determined to get him to rest, you waited for a moment when he wasn’t swamped with work. Finally, you saw him step into the break room, probably for a quick sip of coffee.

"Shuu." you called softly as you entered the room. He looked up, surprise flickering in his tired eyes.

"You were supposed to be home by now. It's past 8 in the evening." he grunted, though his voice lacked its usual firmness. "Come on, I'll drive you home. I can't let you go alone at this hour."

"Only if you remain home with me." you tried to make a deal, but he refused.

"Y/N, please, don't be stubborn. I'm too tired to deal with this." he sighed, leaning back on the locker to keep standing up. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I can't afford to rest. There are too many patients, and far too much bureaucracy for this profession." he sneered under his breath. "Last time I checked, I studied for over a decade to get a stethoscope, not a stamp."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his usual snark. At least that one was still alive. "Last time I checked we were doctors, not accountants." you giggled softly. "Thankfully for the both of us, I'm very efficient with paperwork - In fact, I'm perfectly up to date with mine." you reached out and gently took his hand. "And now, while you take a quick nap, I will finish yours also."

"I am a few weeks behind. You couldn't possibly -- You'll be doing paperwork for weeks; And you'll need glasses prescription which I can't give." came his exhausted comeback. He couldn't even fight back.

"Let me worry about trivialities, yeah?" you winked at him, guiding him to his office to lay down on the couch. "Now, take a rest. I'm going to have a fine date with these papers now."

"You're lucky I'm too tired to argue with you." just as expected, he was out like a light.

The tension in his body slowly began to melt away. You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "You work so hard, Shuuji. Let me take care of you, even if it's just for a little while." you whispered, stroking his black hair for a while, before sitting in his comfy desk chair and taking the pile of papers.

Indeed, it took many hours on the clock to go through so much papers, but you were far more efficient at slamming your husband's stamp on those papers - As efficient as you were at giving his credit card when shopping - And although you weren't able to get up to date with the papers, you got very close. Poor man was almost a whole month behind - Speaks volumes to how good of a doctor he was.

Every once in a while, you'd turn to look at him; Your heart ached at the sight of him so worn out, but you were glad he was finally getting some well deserved rest. You knew how dedicated he was to his patients, but you also knew that he needed to take care of himself to continue helping others. That's one thing he never took into consideration. It was time to take a proper break - A vacation. Come morning, the roles reversed; Daimon began to stir awake, blinking his eyes open, looking up at you with a mix of confusion and gratitude. This time, you were fast asleep, sprawled all over the papers on the desk, his stamp still in your hand.

"And you say I'm the menace." he smiled softly, shaking his head at her loving stubbornness. "You win. We're going on vacation. One whole month." though fast asleep, you seemed to hear what he was saying, for you unconsciously smiled. The gesture made the man chuckle. "Alright, already. I'm booking the tickets now - Yes, my credit card."

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for trying to fix the world?

I (~10000, M) lost everything a few thousand years ago due to climate change. My best friend (~1000, M) sacrificed himself while trying to fix the planet, along with countless others, in order to pay the price for a god (???, M) to fix it. The only solution came about when one of my ex-coworkers (~10000, F) took matters into her own hands and divided the world into multiple parts. This had the side effect of splitting my other best friend (~1000, ??) and everyone else into fractions, except for me and two of my co-workers (both M, we are all over 10000 years old but one is significantly older than me and the other is significantly younger).

There's still people, but they're less powerful than they used to be, compared to my co-workers and I, and frankly I don't even consider them to be alive. They're like mockeries, especially the fractured versions of my other best friend. The god that we summoned to stop the climate change is still here too, but immensely less powerful. So my co-workers and I have devised a plan to reunite all the different parts of the world. Sure, the plan will kill everyone in each part of the world, but that's better than living these half-lives. We've succeeding in reuniting seven of them, though we fucked up REALLY bad with one of them.

In order to move the plan forward, I went to the most intact part of the world and convinced a group of humans suffering discrimination that I should be their emperor and we can conquer the rest of the world and prove their "superiority." It worked, and I ruled for several years before letting the body I possessed die so the stupid idiot son of my son (46, M) could rule while I manipulated him from behind the scenes. Meanwhile, my older co-worker and my protégé (56, M) both got themselves killed while fighting someone (??, ??) who carries part of my other best friend within them.

I didn't really get involved until that so-called "hero" went to another part of the world to rescue their friends. I had to make sure they wouldn't fuck up the next part of the plan involving that part of the world. The entire time, the hero refused to see reason, even when I helped them out multiple times. I finally got frustrated enough that I captured the weird grandpa helping them out (124, M) so that he could tell me his secrets in my underwater recreation of my hometown. The hero and their friend showed up to save him, still refusing to see reason even after I showed them how climate changed destroyed the very city we stood in. Then gave me some really bad heartburn via crystallized cocaine.

That was when I realized that, maybe, I've done something wrong. Maybe it was utilizing racial tensions between the different races in order for my own gain? Or sacrificing everyone to feed a god who sucks at combating climate change? Or threatening to kill the person who used to be one of my besties? Or that I limp my wrist when I wave?

Am I really the asshole for wanting everything to get better?

EDIT: I'm not going to call the son of my son my "grandson." I want nothing to do with him.

EDIT 2: Everyone hates him, I promise. His own son (26, M) just killed him, actually, so I'm justified to shit on him.