#this was sort of a quick story that I just sort of wrote and finished lol

[lovexdeepspace]

Hi ! Can you make a story where reader is not the mc and is in relationship with the boys who starts to act cold and indifferent bc of mc ? (i cant choose one i love all of them 😭)

summary; what happens when the l&ds boys have a run-in with the MC that changes everything.

warnings; angst, hurt, strained relations

note; my first request!! thank you so much for the love on my works, i’m so happy i can entertain with my writings!!

!! divider by @cafekitsune !!

༊*·˚ xavier

you were curled up on xavier’s couch, engrossed in some cable drama that you had originally put on for background noise while you tidied. you didn’t even blink when the front door open and shut, signaling xavier’s arrival.

"how was work, xav?" you called, glancing over at him as he tossed his jacket onto the loveseat. you subconsciously leaned over as he approached the couch, your lips pursed as you awaited the usual ‘i missed you’ kiss that became a routine thing. however, he walked right by you and headed to the kitchen, eyes on his phone.

"it was fine," he responded absentmindedly, pocketing his phone and rummaging through the fridge. "i’m real tired, though. think i’m gonna head to bed early tonight."

you turned off the tv and stood, coming up behind him. your arms wrapped around his waist and you pressed your cheek to his back, sliding your hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

"are you okay?" you murmured, giving him a comforting squeeze. "did something happen at work today?"

xavier shut the fridge and put his hands inside the pocket as well, over yours. "i’m okay. just tired is all."

he pulled your hands out of his pocket and turned to face you, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before shuffling off to the bedroom. you frowned and wrote it off as a tough day, thinking it was just a once in a while thing.

until it became an every day sort of thing.

over time it grew more and more obvious that there was something else going on with xavier outside of work — he would come home later, his already kind of spotty communication became worse, and then the affectionate gestures became a chore to him.

you would try to hold his hand? oh, he needs to hold his phone or it's in his pocket suddenly. want a hug? expect one of those brief side-hugs. expecting a kiss? quick peck on the cheek at most.

it was heart-wrenching, watching the man who had loved you like you had hung the moon in the sky for years suddenly stop. the thoughts of where things had gone sour commanded your mind day and night, searching for the answer tirelessly. then, one day, the answer presented itself to you out of the blue.

or, rather, she presented herself to you.

you and xavier were spending a quiet (not by choice) morning in the cafe when a woman approached, calling xavier's name. you noticed the way he straightened and the way his eyes lit up before he quickly covered it up. your heart shattered but you swallowed the hurt, smiling at the woman as she looked between the two of you and introduced herself to you. xavier invited her to sit with you two and she accepted, allowing you front row seats to watch the man who was supposed to love you fall in love with someone else.

༊*·˚ rafayel

work had finished early today, leaving you the afternoon to do as you pleased. seeing as your last mission was located just a couple blocks from rafayel’s studio, you took it upon yourself to pick up some snacks from the cafè to surprise him since he had been working hard for days on end now.

with pastries in hand you walked up the pathway to the mo art studio, a skip in your step as your excitement became palpable. as you go to open the door it swings open for you, revealing not rafayel but a woman you’d never seen before. you faltered for a second as she brushed by you with a muttered apology, heading the way you came.

probably just some fan of his work, you thought to yourself as you headed inside. kicking off your shoes at the entryway, you head for the main room and find rafayel lounging on his couch. he sat upright once he noticed you, squaring his shoulders and forcing a grin.

“you’re here,” is all he said to you, a stark contrast to his usual witty comments on how you just couldn’t seem to stay away for long.

“work ended early, so i thought i’d bring you some snacks,” you replied, placing the paper bag on the coffee table as you took a seat next to him. “how’s the painting coming out?”

“fine,” he replied, digging into the bag and pulling out a tart. you waited for him to continue, to whine and complain about thomas or some media outlet being on his ass about something but nothing followed his curt response.

“so,” you drawled, filling the silence, “another fan found your address?”

rafayel’s brow furrowed and he swallowed before asking, “what do you mean?”

“the woman who left when i came,” you pointed out, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. “a fan of your art?”

rafayel shook his head, leaning back against his couch with a wistful smile. “oh, her? don’t worry about it, just a deepspace hunter looking into some things about my paintings.”

you wanted to not worry — truly you did — but something about the whole thing just didn’t sit right with you. despite the nagging feeling in your mind, you went to place your hand over rafayel’s so you could focus on something else. just as your pinky finger was about to interlock with his, he quickly pulled his hand onto his lap.

with a small nod, you stood and mumbled, “i’m gonna head home.”

you hoped that rafayel would say something — better yet do something — to get you to stay but no, he was off in his own little world, staring out the window at the sea. fighting back tears, you take your leave, slipping on your shoes and heading back towards the streets.

the sunny day was no longer warm and welcoming but hot and suffocating with your heart drowning in pain at the idea of the man you loved with all your being and more having someone else.

༊*·˚ zayne

things between you and zayne had always been kind of like a scale — some days it would lean to one side, some days the other.

he was stoic yet sweet, soft and caring in just the right moments. the times you were together were some of the most blissful times you could ever have imagined. just the right amount of intimacy, domesticity, and partnership that a relationship needed to blossom.

this would be outweighed, however, by the days straight without communication but you always chalked it up to his profession and never really had too much of an issue with how things went. you couldn’t begin to imagine the amount of stress that a doctor took on, especially in the day and age of wanderers. so, like a good partner would, you did all you could to be as supportive as possible in every way he needed.

from homemade lunches to silently holding him in your arms after a rough day, there was nobody better for him than you.

one morning after you had stayed the night, you woke up to a text from him asking if you could deliver his lunch that he’d left on the table. after sending a quick reply to assure him you’d swing by in a bit, you got out of bed and found some clothes folded neatly on top of the dresser for you.

soon after getting yourself together, you grabbed zayne’s lunch and packed one for yourself, deciding that it’d be nice to have a meal together in his office again since it had been some time since the last one. you enjoyed the brisk walk to the hospital, soaking up the early spring sun.

yvonne gave you a polite wave as you walked past the receptionist’s desk and down the hall towards zayne’s office. you knocked once before opening the door, stopping short as you noticed a woman sitting on the couch beside him.

“my bad, i didn’t know you had a patient,” you said with an awkward chuckle before holding up his lunch bag. “brought your —”

“just leave it on the desk,” zayne interrupted, nodding toward the desk in the corner. “thank you.”

“yeah, no problem,” you replied, doing as asked. you stand there for a second longer and zayne cleared his throat, gesturing towards the door. “oh, sorry. i’ll, uh, see you later then?”

your statement switched to a question when zayne raised an eyebrow at you, quickly shutting down any confidence you had. with a curt nod you exited his office and left the hospital, mind clouded as you aimlessly wandered until you found yourself at the park. sitting on a bench you took out your lunch and began to eat until you couldn’t stomach anything anymore with the image of zayne and the woman on the couch burned into your mind.

the way they were shoulder to shoulder; her hand centimeters from his knee; his eyes, usually icy and reserved, looking at her with a sickening fondness that you only saw from time to time; the way he addressed you not as a partner, but as someone who had intruded on something so important to him.

the way he was smitten, fallen in a way you had never seen in the year and some change you’d been together.

[kitkathockey]

Prettiest girl at Hogwarts

Pairings: Remus Lupin x reader (they are already together)

Summary: Remus is answering some of the first years questions and one of them asks who is the prettiest girl at Hogwarts.

Notes: This is my first story, I probably won’t upload again for like along time, I only wrote this because I had this idea in my head. And I really wanted to read it! So I wrote it, and maybe someone else will enjoy it? I’m not experienced in this at all but if you guys like this, maybe I’ll right more? Probably not but anyway… enjoy!

*Also I am okay with my work being published elsewhere AS LONG AS I am credited/mentioned in it, thanks!*

…………………………………………………………………………

Remus Lupin is a prefect, and this year he was going to lead the first years. Once the sorting ceremony was over, he quickly ushered the 11 year olds over towards him.

The first years always had a lot of questions, always spitting them out whenever one occupies there mind. And remus got used to that quickly as he was answering questions the entire walk to the common room. Once they arrived, remus turned around to finish up the talk.

James, Sirius and Peter had already rushed off somewhere, most likely the kitchens, and will probably meet him back at their dorm. It was already late when they walked in but most students haven’t returned to their own dorms yet, spending a little time in the common room before they head to sleep. Y/n was sitting next to Lily, listening as she blabbered on about her holiday to Europe.

“Boys dorms are up the stairs to your left,” Remus gestured with his left arm, “girls, same on your right. Now are there any other questions before I send you all off.”

“What year are you in?” One of the boys asked him, swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Remus gently smiled at the boy, running one hand through his fluffy hair “6th year”.

“Is it true that Sir Nicholas the ghost can take off most of his head?” Asked an excited girl, beaming slightly.

He chuckled slightly, nodding his head. “That is true but it’s not a very pleasant sight.”

“Who’s the prettiest girl at Hogwarts?” Questioned a little, blonde girl as her friend giggles slightly.

Remus shook his head with a little laugh, tilting his head slightly to the side to glance at Y/n.

“You see that girl over there?” He pointed to her and watched as the first years nod excitedly. “I think she’s very beautiful, the prettiest girl at Hogwarts.”

The 11 year olds giggled as they looked at the pretty girl and the two girls who asked the question jumped up and down clapping.

“What’s her name! What’s her name?” They asked as Remus placed both his hands on his hips with a smirk.

“Y/n” he answered.

The two girls were quick to rush over towards Y/n causing Remus’ eyes widen a bit before he just shook his head with a dorky smile.

“Um, excuse me” one of the girls tapped Y/n on the shoulder. She turned around to smile at the young girl. “You’re Y/n right?”

“That’s me.” Y/n smiled, turning her head to glance at Lily. Lily just shrugged and they both retuned their gazes to the two younger ones.

“That boy over there called you pretty!” The young girl with blonde hair giggled, pointing at Remus.

“He said you were the prettiest girl at Hogwarts!” The other one stated.

Y/n smirked, glancing quickly at her boyfriend Remus, watching him just shrug and smile in reply.

“Well that’s very kind of him,” She told the two girls, winking at them.

“Do you think he’s the prettiest boy at Hogwarts?” The blonde asked back quickly.

Y/n could feel her heart flutter slightly, as she nodded her head. “Oh definitely, he’s the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

The girls quickly jumped and waved their goodbye before returning to the group of first years, explaining to them what they just heard. As Remus listened, he couldn’t help but lightly chuckle as his cheeks turned a slight pink colour.

…………………………………………………………………………

“What was all that about?” Y/n smiled as she rested on Remus’ bed, waiting for him to join her.

He just shook his head with a smirk, “they asked me a question and I answered it.”

Y/n blushed as Remus walked over to her, laying down and pulling her into his arms, hugging tightly.

“I love you,” Y/n said, her head dropped on his chest.

“I love you so much more” Remus replied.

[romanestuffsposts]

Hi! I like your stucky x little stories. And I was wondering If I can make a request?

Maybe the reader got into trouble and the and bucky and Steve are extra mad at her and punish her. And when they come check in her, she avoids them for a long time, even if they aren’t mad anymore.

I like these sorts of stories of yours, but I feel like they get off to easy (in my opinion). So, maybe some extra angst for them cause I’m not the kind of kilter that forgive easily.

Hi there love! 💜

Yes I know some of you don’t like when it’s too much while others want to see more so don’t hesitate to ask! I’m here to write what you wanna see! ❤️

I hope you like how I wrote it, sweetie! <3

Enjoy <33

****

Warnings : snapping, argument, yelling, cries, punishment, apologise, making up, comfort, mad, pet name

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : you just wanted to relax after a day inside

****

You just got out of work, it’s the end of the day and you’re surprisely still in a good mood. You were inside a little room the entire day and feel like you hadn’t seen the world today so you decide to walk through the parc on your way home.

It’ll take you more time to go home but at least you would’ve clear your mind in the nature.

You hadn’t saw the time passing as you sat on a bench to watch little ducks on the water in front of you. It’s been already two hours that you finished your work and you hadn’t said anything to anyone as to where you were.

You decide to cut your walk short and go back home, you have the rest of the week home so you’ll have lots of time to come to the parc.

Not too long after leaving the parc, you open the door and step inside of your house. You thought you’ll be greeted by the smell of food or at least your men but none of those are home apparently. You don’t see their shoes inside nor their coat so you assume they’re still at work or something.

You decide to go relax in a warm bath, you put in your favorite soap and don’t lose a time before stepping inside. You groan at the hot water that’s warming up your cold body.

You enjoy your bath for a long and when you get out, your Daddies still aren’t home. You decide to call Sam to ask if they’re almost finish with work and when this one answer the phone after the first ring, you hear relief in his voice

‘’You’re home ? Please tell me you’re home little bird ?’’ He asks. You frown and explain that it’s been an hour now that you’re home and you wanted to know if their work will take them times or if you could prepare dinner.

You don’t really understand what happened after, you just know that Sam screams at someone that you were home and then there were nobody behind the call anymore.

A few minutes later you hear the door opening violently and loud and quick steps on the ground. You watch as your Daddies run toward you and it doesn’t take long for them to wrap their arms around you and hold you tight against them.

Their heartbeats were really fast and they felt out of breath, what happened ?

Before you could even ask questions, your Daddy pulls back, keep an hold on your shoulders with his hands and stare down at you with many emotions in his eyes that you don’t understand

‘’Where the hell were you ?’’ His voice is harsh and it made you flinch, you didn’t noticed they were mad at you ‘’do you know what a phone is used for ?? It’s for when you’re going to be late at home. You text, call or send an email, I don’t fucking care but you tell us that you’ll be late’’ he practically yells now.

‘’You know how worry we were ?’’ Your Papa adds ‘’it’s been hours that we’re looking for you outside. We disturbed the entire city just because you can’t using your goddamn phone!’’

You open your mouth to talk but nothing comes out, you know what you want to say. You didn’t wanted to worry them, you just needed to be outside a little and got lost in time. You wanted to apologies because you know you’re in the wrong here but it’s like the words are stuck in your throat.

‘’Next time think less about yourself and text us so we don’t worry’’ your Daddy snaps making you tear up.

Were you selfish ?

You really did worry them but that was an accident. You didn’t mean to.

‘’Go to your room’’ your Daddy says, his voice is calm now but he sounds really disappointed and it made things worst.

‘’But Daddy I-‘’ he cuts you off with a harsh movement to melt you stop walking to him ‘’I said go to your room. Do you understand or do we have to explain how to go upstairs in silence like we have to taught you respect ?’’ He snaps again this time.

You swallow your pain and go upstairs, they watch you until you close your door.

You look around your room and shiver in fear, it’s been a few nights now that you don’t sleep here because one night you had a nightmare and you are scared to be in this room alone.

And he knew that but he still sent you here.

You had spent the evening and the night in your room. They brought you dinner but they didn’t even glance at you or dried your tears. They just give you your food, your water and they came to get it back.

Not even a good night kiss or a glance of reassurance. You had to fall asleep with the only comfort of the memories of the little bird singing in the parc earlier.

The next morning you woke up with a note on your nightstand, they had to go to work but they wrote that the punishment was over and that you did good. They said they loved you and that they’ll be back later.

Seeing this writing instead of hearing it from their mouths feel fake. It feels like they didn’t meant it. You throw away the paper and walk downstairs, a second note in the kitchen tells you that they left your favorite breakfast for you in the fridge. They tell you a second time that they loved you before signing.

You don’t touch the breakfast, you take a glass of water and go in the couch. You spent your whole day laying in the couch and thinking about yesterday. To make it short, you had a bad day.

You wanted to go outside but since how it ended up yesterday you decide to not take the risk.

After a few hours you hear the front door opening and closing. Before you can see them entering fully in the house you get up from the couch and run upstairs.

You know it’s your Daddies but you don’t wanna see them just yet. You need to show them that you’re still mad.

What hurt you the most is not the fact that they yelled at you, you understood that they were scared and worried and from all of their emotions mixed up together they ended up yelling but you knew they were more relieved than angry.

But what if something really happened to you ? What if you were lost or what if you were held something against your will ? What you needed wasn’t hearing scream, what you needed was comfort if that happened. They didn’t even asked.. that’s what hurt you the most.

You close the door shut and sit on your desk to keep drawing your draw. After some minutes you hear a knock on your door. You don’t answer which cause you to hear a second one ‘’sweetie ?’’

‘’No’’ you say loud enough for them to hear. You don’t hear anything after so you thought they left but after some second of silence they knock again ‘’please baby, can we talk ?’’

‘’no’’ you say again, going back to your drawing. You hear muffled talk and then nothing. You sigh in relief that they respect you by letting you alone like you asked.

You almost finish your drawing when it’s dinner time and you at the same time, you hear knock again ‘’sweetie ?’’ Your Papa gently says

‘’We- dinner is ready’’ he waits for a second to see if you’re gonna say something but when it’s silence, he talks again ‘’we made your favorite food’’

After minutes of nothing, he was going to leave even tho he doesn’t like the fact that you don’t wanna eat but he hears and sees the door of your room opening.

You don’t look at him nor speak to him, you walk past him and down the hallway. You make your way downstairs, followed by your Papa. Your Daddy is waiting on his seat and his eyes light up when he sees you, he thought you wouldn’t got out of your room but apparently you’re too hungry for that.

You do the same to him that you did to your Papa, you don’t give him attention. You grab your plate, put food in it and then go back upstairs to your room.

You know your Daddies don’t like it when you eat upstairs but today you don’t care. You thought they would’ve said something to you about it but you hear nothing.

After eating you lie in bed and close your eyes.

~

Gentle touch are felt on your scalp causing you to coming back to reality. It took you a moment but you finally opened your eyes.

You turn around and see your Daddies sitting on your bed. You turn back around as soon as you see them and get up from bed quickly.

You hear your Daddies standing up too as you approach the door ‘’wait please’’ the sad voice of your Daddy make you stop. You’re facing the door but you stopped walking.

‘’We’re sorry about yesterday’’ he says ‘’we were worried sick from the second we saw you weren’t at home and when we couldn’t find you we-‘’ he takes a shaky breath ‘’I thought my heart was ripping apart’’

You look down but keep your eyes wide open as you listen to them talking. "we shouldn't have yelled at you yesterday but we didn't thought about our reaction, we just let all out and i think we wanted you to understand how we felt."

"but it was in a bad way" your Papa adds after your Daddy "we should've said it in another way. We're sorry we went too far and yelled like that, we're really really sorry"

Nobody talk for some seconds but then you start to turn around, with tears in your eyes. They stand up and go to comfort you but stop because they don't know if they can come to you or not

"can we... can we hug you ?" your Daddy asks with an hesitant voice "please" your Papa adds.

You stroke your eyes causing the tears to fall and lift your arms up, nodding your head.

The next second, you feel two pairs of arms wrapping around you and you feel nothing else but the warmth of their bodies and the comfort they send to you.

"what were you doing before coming back home yesterday ?" Your Daddy asks as he stokes your hair.

"Parc. Watching bird" your mumble, as you snuggle closer into them.

"you want to go back to the parc tonight ? We can grab some bread to give to birds and ducks if we saw them" Your Papa proposes.

You sniff and nod your head, you wanted to go back there all day and maybe going back with them can be as relaxing a than going alone.

"Alright, let's get prepared then" Your Papa kisses your forehead and helps you standing up "we can even go take a breakfast outside, what do you say ?"

You nod your head and take their hands in yours to lead them toward your closet to get prepared. It'll be a great day, you're sure about that fact.

[saintescuderia]

pancakes (pt. 4)

AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.

series masterlist here :)

A/N: apologies if this isn't 100%. i wrote this in between travelling to japan to attend suzuka. and then i got sick and couldn't even go lol.

P4 - L-sits and pull-ups

Charles Leclerc was known for being a nice guy. 

All the boys knew it. Lando experienced it when he saw how Charles was genuine with service staff whenever they went somewhere. Alex had experienced it in how Charles treated his family, leaving the F1 boys to spend time with Arthur whenever F2 joined the schedule - or when his mother visited the Paddock. Whereas George had just done a quick FaceTime to his mother on Mother’s Day, Charles had sent Pascale Leclerc a luxury basket with a surprise yacht trip and a massage.

“She was having a bad week.” The Monegasque reasoned when the boys found out.

Pierre’s PS5 was a result of Charles’ kindness; sourcing it for his upset friend who had missed the drop. Max's apartment was a result of Charles' kindness; helping him look for places in his home city for the Dutchman looking to buy property in the foreign Monaco. Max owed Charles a lot.

If not for his apartment, then for his F1 seat.

Mercedes were taking too long. Charles knew someone at Red Bull's junior team who could help him score an interview with Helmut Marko. And when you told Charles to stop being so nice to Max after all the drama that happened in F2, he shrugged and said it was the nice thing to do.

So you, a Torro Rosso trainer, helped Max Verstappen with an interview.

Because Charles was kind and he asked you.

And there was nothing you wouldn't do for Charles Leclerc.

Charles’ circles especially were all aware of you before he even joined the grid. It was just that sort of thing. Everyone knows everyone in motorsports. All those boys had seen you hanging around him at the karting races. Were it not for the stark difference in appearance, some might’ve thought you were family. Some did. Because for the longest time, that’s what you and Charles were. Family.  

You were always there for him. You celebrated him when he won. You supported him when he didn’t. You were always the first person he went to when he finished his race. Not his parents, not Jules, not anyone - you. 

He would come to you and you would quickly repeat some key English phrases for the interviewers who would surely come for him. You would pat him on the back and offer a warm smile - no matter the result - and offer some feedback based on what you saw. Performance was your speciality after all.

Then, after everything, you guys would finish with a homemade plate of your pancakes. No matter what. That’s how it went and how it would always go. 

Until 2018.

That had been a shit fucking show of a year. The rookie trio had been super confused when they finally arrived at F1 and saw you dressed as Hospitality. Charles gave no answer to Lando, Alex or George, no explanation to why he barely acknowledged you. It had been Pierre, the one who had been there through it all, who had quietly explained to them what had happened.

For a while, Alex had a hard time talking to Max when he found out. 

Charles hadn’t been surprised that the grid had found out. Nothing ever stayed a secret in this fucking place. NDAs were a joke. The whole agreement between him and Charlotte had been unearthed by some lower ranking Ferrari employee who didn’t know how to keep shut. Then again, Charles had expected it to come out eventually. Half the drivers were dating for PR anyway. 

Ferrari were already on his case about finding a new replacement, a pretty girlfriend for him to post boyfriend material pictures with so it can ‘increase his numbers’ with the female fanbase. Since Drive To Survive had done well to popularise the sport with a whole new demographic of F1 fans, teams were trying to capitalise on this as much as possible. Charles quietly suspected that this was part of the reason why Ferrari approached Carlos.

That and they probably wanted to get rid of Seb as quickly as possible after he found out what happened between to you and raged.

Though, Charles could understand Seb’s stance on it. He himself was conflicted about it, half the time unsure if he had made the right call to listen to Mattia. He had just been hurt and upset and his father had just passed away and the press had been vicious and Charles was just desperate to fulfil his dream of getting the coveted seat. 

Well, your joint dream. 

It had been the dream of the both of you. It was why you worked just as hard as he did. You had taught him English. He had taught you Italian. He networked and raced. You built cars and trained. He had helped you get a job in Torro Rosso. You had helped him get a seat in Alfa Romeo. 

Which, of course, led to him getting a spot in Scuderia Ferrari. 

Except by the time he was putting on the red, you two were no longer speaking to one another. Or, he was no longer speaking to you and you finally accepted he had cut you off. Gone were the days where he was searching the crowds for your face, rushing to you after the race finished.

Six years ago, he stopped eating pancakes. 

He knew you still made them, of course. And not because pancakes had been your everyday breakfast since you both turned fourteen and you started weightlifting and tracking your macros. He knew because he had seen some Alpine reserve driver eating them. 

His name was Oscar Jack Piastri. F2 Champion who also won F3 and the Renault Cup. He had more trophies than anyone else his age. For a moment, Charles thought it was because you back training drivers and were working with him.

Arthur later refuted this when Charles was grilling him that no, you weren't training Oscar Piastri. You actually hadn’t had much interaction with him when you would come down to F2. 

“Does this mean you’re talking to Y/N again?” Arthur had asked, assuming that’s why Charles was asking about you. “Can we be friends with her again?”

“No.” 

“You know maman still doesn’t believe what happened.”

Charles was known for being a nice guy, but he hung up on his brother. Charles really was one of the kinder drivers, but when Alex told them about the tweet, he had scoffed and sneered. When Oscar Piastri himself arrived in orange and held his hand out to greet the nice Monacoan driver, Charles glared and kept his arms crossed. Fuck this. He was not going to shake Oscar Piastri’s fucking hand. 

Even though, deep down, Charles knew there was no need for this. Arthur had confirmed that Oscar really was just a really talented driver - Y/N hadn’t trained him. This was no Max Verstappen situation.

Moreover, it wasn’t like Charles was in Daniel Ricciardo’s position.

If it weren't for the million cameras recording the first meeting of the two Australian drivers, Charles could only imagine Daniel's reaction to the rookie. It was one thing that Oscar essentially took Ricciardo's seat.

The other was that everyone had seen him with you.

Admittedly, Daniel had a reason to not want to shake Oscar’s hand, Charles could reason. Even if he still thought Ricciardo was an espèce de putain merde for what he did to you. 

Still, Charles couldn’t explain it. He wouldn’t explain it. He didn’t need to. The grid had so far understood it perfectly fine; you don’t go near Y/N. When Logan had joined the grid, Alex had the good sense to quietly fill him in on what had happened.

Why the fuck couldn’t Lando do the same?

Which brings us to right now: Bahrain 2023. A control unit failure meant a DNF for his first race of the season. When is this bad luck going to end? Charles retired his car, managing to make it past the McLaren garage on his way to the Ferrari red at the end of the Pit Lane.

It was just as well that his car was slowing to a stall. It meant that he managed to catch a glimpse of the McLaren garage - and the naive Australian rookie stood with a plate in his hands, very clearly eating some pancakes. 

Charles almost drove into a mechanic. 

-

It was 3am. $uicideboy$ was playing through your headphones. You weren’t wearing any shoes. 

This could only mean one thing: you were doing calisthenics. 

Your arms were shaking slighting as you bent your elbows and tucked your legs in before straightening them. Your grip on the parallette bars was slipping but you engaged your core tighter, hoping to keep balanced as you straightened out your legs and held the L-sit position. 

Oscar had DNF’ed on lap 13. The media was already going wild with questions about his decision to ditch Alpine for McLaren and whether or not this was just karma. McLaren looked horrible. Even his teammate had finished 17th. No matter your feelings on the young Brit, even you had to admit Lando Norris was a decent driver. 

During the course of pre-season preparations, wind had carried the gossip that Zak Brown had revealed the car to the team earlier this year with a sub-par level of enthusiasm. Whilst it wasn’t uncommon for cars to arrive at Sakhir with plans for future upgrades… you hadn’t thought it would be this bad. For McLaren. At this rate, the MCL60 was looking like a back of the field car. 

What’s more the team was struggling. One only needed to look at their qualifying session to see how bad it had been. Engineers giving mixed reports. Oscar’s radio not working and getting out in Q1. Lando getting mixed tyres and getting out in Q2. A whole ass clusterfuck, in your opinion.

And Daniel had been there, smiling smug whenever the camera decided to pan to the Red Bull garage.

The song changed in your headphones. Your arm strained. You dropped, fell forward. Cue the stream of expletives that would’ve made even Guenther blush.

You knew that going to the gym after the race had finished up - a night race that - was going to mess up your sleep schedule. However, you were too wired after everything to go to sleep. You needed the dopamine rush. There was too much going on for you to process any other way.

Because, firstly, you needed to get rid of the image of Daniel’s smug smirk that was currently etched into your brain.

You had skipped your post-dinner protein shake and had your coffees black today. You had started your session with a series of HIIT sprints on the treadmill before you did as many pull ups as your body would allow. It had been quite some time since you had done calisthenics training so religiously but you were already internally creating a new program for yourself. 

That is, you were already mentally preparing for the cut you had decided to undertake the moment Daniel Ricciardo had walked into the gym after finding out he'd lost his seat. And blame you for it.

You pushed yourself up off the ground and came to your parallette bars again. You grabbed each one and then lifted yourself up again. You closed your eyes and willed your brain to focus purely on the lactic acid running through your body. 

Because, secondly, you were stressing more than you should about Charles’ DNF.

You had watched the testing sessions carefully. You always did. Always keeping an eye out on the red car with the black T cam. Charles hadn’t done too bad but, obviously, it was hard to give a genuine judge. Everyone always sandbagged.

For example, Red Bull didn’t look as strong in testing, but then came out on race day and finished as they did. You could be happy for Max, especially since Jos was in attendance and knew just what that meant… but you also knew how it would look for Ferrari that Carlos had finished fourth and Charles hadn’t even finished the race. 

The car did look strong through. That was evident by how Ferrari had done in qualifying. Charles had out qualified Carlos, a narrow Ferrari 3-4 behind a Red Bull 1-2. However, your former childhood best friend had a bad luck streak unlike anything you had ever witnessed. 

And even though the word ‘former’ was in the equation, you never liked seeing Charles like this. Even if he was likely the reason no one in the grid spoke to you anymore.

Well, until now.

Because, thirdly, Oscar Piastri threw a spanner in the works.

You knew how it was going to look. You knew. It was one thing for you to interact this closely with a driver. It was another thing entirely for you to unofficially train him. However, as Zak Brown had found out, there was no way you could be allowed to join McLaren as a performance trainer for Oscar.

When the young driver had filled you in about his meetings with Zak Brown and his particular stipulation, you called him an idiot and told him to sign. When Oscar filled you in about his new plan to be able to work alongside you through all the loopholes his father's lawyer found, you called him an idiot and told him it wasn't worth it.

"I beg to differ. If you don't want to, that's fine. But not because of whatever drama happened."

He knew the drama. It was impossible that a team principle had looked into having you as his driver 's trainer and not found out what had happened. It was also impossible that Oscar Piastri, former Prema driver - as in, former Arthur Leclerc teammate - and current teammate to loose tongue Lando, didn't know about you and Charles.

You had honestly just waited for the moment he would bring it up. He never did.

Because Oscar, you were coming to learn, was far more level-headed and mature than most the drivers on this grid. And he was so young. You didn't want to see anyone fuck that up. You really, really didn't.

Still, you said no.

Then a week later you saw that fucking tractor make him DNF.

You leaned forward and brought yourself down into a handstand, counting to ten before bending your elbows and lowering yourself slowly. You lifted yourself up and then tucked your legs once more. Your whole body was shaking more and more know but and you fought to breathe through it. You finally lowered yourself and let out a deep huff. Whilst you weren't pleased with how out of practice you were, you were a little pleased that you finally managed to lower yourself - instead of falling down.

You looked ahead at the mirrors and then saw a familiar face of the driver walking into the gym. Oscar dropped his gym bag near yours and went straight to the treadmill to warm up. You kept your eyes on him as you held yourself up on the parallettes and watched the young driver fiddle with his phone and earphones before starting a light jog.

You took a moment before you pulled yourself up and went over to him. Oscar met your eyes as he continued to jog. He pulled down earphone but you said nothing as you pressed the button to increase the speed. Oscar raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"45 seconds on. 15 seconds off. 20 repetitions." You said. Oscar nodded and put his earphone back in. You shook your head. He frowned and pulled them down.

"You don't drive with music so don't play anything." You said. "Feeling something in your ear needs to become second nature."

He nodded and you went to his phone and pressed pause. Then you made a voice when you noticed that Ed Sheeran was playing.

"Don't judge me." Oscar said.

"I am. You're working out to fucking Ed Sheeran." You responded with a scrunched nose. Oscar shook his head, smiling slightly, but said nothing else. In the silence, you observed his form and counted his breaths. You noticed slight irregularity with his inhale and exhales and immediately pulled him up on it.

And so you spent the rest of the night training Oscar Piastri.

By the time you both finished, and he gave you a tired and sweaty high five, the clock read five thirteen in the morning.

-

taglist: @eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery @vicurious28 @taytaylala12 @c-losur3 @hiireadstuff @samantha-chicago @fionaschicken @casperlikej @bookstore-of-dreams @itsjustkhaos @sam-is-lost @laneyspaulding19

[ryanmarshallryan]

I've been having a lot more people reach out about the vore stories I write, so thought I'd throw it out there if anyone wants to donate to help me have more time to write stories, or likes my style and wants to commission something let me know over dm!

I usually write thinking from a prey perspective, but was feeling hungry after eating salads for a month and switched to pred for this story.

DIET BACKFIRED

I love my weight. I think my belly looks great on me. When I see those old statues of historical figures with dad bods I see myself and love it. But after gaining 25 pounds in a few months from stress, I decided to try out a diet for a bit, just to be cautious of my health. Man, it was hard. And this morning my hunger took control.

I was preparing a salad, heated up some chicken to mix in, sprinkled in some shredded cheese, spinach, lettuce, cucumber, tomato and such. All I could think about was how wonderful it would feel to have a full belly again. Not just feeling satisfied, but pigging out and shoving as much down my maw as possible. Feeling the gainer bug while also trying to diet was not going to work for me. I tore through my cabinet to find an old box of cookies. I opened the box, came to my senses and closed it, then decided I didn’t care and ate the remainder in one sitting. To try to slow myself down and tire out my palette, I tried to eat a bunch of lettuce, but then added a bunch of croutons and snacks without thinking. I still felt hungry, but just left the kitchen to stop myself.

Later, I hung out with my work-out buddy, Max, and vented about my hunger, “I’m still eating a lot! Just replacing chips with a lot of low fat snacks. So if the quantity of food I’m eating is the same, why am I always feeling sooooo hungry? Ugh.”

“Bro, sounds like you need a cheat day. But, hey, if you’re stressed about having too much high fat food, I can help you eat big while still holding back on the chips.”

“Well it can be helpful to sit with the feeling for a while. So if you start feeling hungry, write down exactly what you are craving and what that feels like. By the time you are done writing it out, if you’re still hungry for it… go for it. If the feeling passes, then move on,” Max continued.

“I’m sure we could try it, but I don’t see how much of a difference it’ll make.” I replied. I knew Max worked as some sort of private personal trainer or something on the side, so I felt inclined to believe him, but my stomach was doubtful.

After our workout, we visited a smoothie place and got large chocolate banana protein smoothies (after writing out what I was craving and waiting a moment before deciding to go through with it). I sucked mine down so fast I got a mild brain freeze.

“So how are you feeling? Hungry for another one?” Max asked, playfully placing a hand on my gut and giving it a quick rub.

“Ugh, I would totally go for a burger and fries right now… no, onion rings… actually both,” I replied, as Max handed me a notepad and pen. I wrote down the menu in my mind and thought about how it can be nice to feel so full without another care in the world.

“It’s been a few minutes… still hungry?” Max said with a sly smile.

“What do you think?” I asked him, lifting my gym shirt up to reveal my hairy belly, which gave a perfectly timed gurgle.

Max drove to my favorite burger joint and ordered a few meals and insisted on paying “This is my idea, don’t worry about it… for science!”

After downing two large burgers, a full bag of onion rings and a couple sides of fries, plus an apple that came with Max’s meal that he was too full to finish, I sat with my gut extended out in front of me.

Max leaned over to me, pulled my shirt up over my belly and patted it with his closed fist as if knocking at a door, “So how are you doing, hungry guy?” He put his ear to my side and listened intently to the stomach gurgles, occasionally making sounds of “Mmm,” “Yes, I see,” “Interesting.” I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the absurdity of Max speaking to my belly.

“What’s so funny about listening to your gut? Intuitive eating is no joke,” Max said with a joking smile, “What is your stomach telling you?”

I thought for a moment, grabbed the notepad and wrote down ‘Though I should be full and done eating… Ice cream would hit the spot right now… Surely that would fill me up, and fill the void the low fat snacks have opened.’ I handed Max the written note.

Max looked from my belly to my eyes with a poker face, “I know just the place.”

In a few minutes we rolled up to Max’s apartment. Inside he pulled out some pints of cookies and cream ice cream and some mint chocolate chip. He handed me a spoon and opened the containers and sat across from me.

“Do you want me to get a bowl?” I asked.

“Nah. Try to intuitively eat. Just eat until your body feels done.”

“So… eat until there’s a nationwide ice cream shortage?”

Max threw his head back laughing, “If we get to that point, maybe we’ll pivot to a new tactic, but for now, feel free to eat as much as you want.” He looked endearingly into my eyes, and I felt my gut rumble, whether by digestion or hunger, or both, I couldn’t discern.

As I scooped down ice cream, we chatted about hunger, about scarcity mindset when it comes to food, and he told me some interesting facts about digestion and how to make room in one's stomach faster than normal by laying on the left side.

“Is this the stuff people need to know for your personal training work and such?” I asked.

“Personal training stuff?” Max gave a look of puzzlement then laughed, “I think I said that sarcastically a while back. A few guys pay me to help them gain weight and eat big. So sort of a personal trainer, but kind of the opposite effect that most would expect.”

“Ohhh, this tactic makes a bit more sense now,” I replied, continuing to eat the ice cream.

“Well, I thought if I encouraged you to experience the ability to eat as much as you want without restriction, you’ll realize that you don’t have to eat everything. It sounds like you are always hungry, because you are always denying that you want food.”

“Hmm, I suppose that’s true,” I went to scoop up more ice cream then realized I’d eaten all of it.

“How are you feeling?” Max asked, rubbing the top of my belly.

I felt a grumble deep in my stomach.”I can definitely feel my belly full of food, but I also could definitely do the whole thing all over again.”

Max considered me for a moment, then started listing off some random digestion facts again. He put his head on my stomach again, lifted my shirt off my body, listened again, took his hands and gently opened my mouth wide and peered down my throat, until I started laughing and he couldn't hold my mouth open.

“What are you doing? You think my stomach is gonna speak back to you in English?” I joked.

“No… but I wonder if I could better understand your hunger if I could better see inside your gut. Hmmm, maybe even just peering down your esophagus…”

“Don’t you need a fancy scope for that or something?”

“Not if you’re willing to relax your throat for a moment…” Max said. I shrugged, and he straddled my lap and shoved his head into my mouth. I could feel his energetic breathing against my tongue and wondered how on earth he could see anything down my throat with his head blocking light from the outside.

I heard a muffled “I’d like to see a bit further…” and felt him push his whole body forward into me. His shoulders shoved their way into my maw and stretched my jaw wide like an opera singer. I choked a little bit feeling his scratchy hair make contact with my uvula and the bottom of my tongue. I reflexively closed my lips over his skin and swallowed as the hair and breath tickled my maw. I realized that my peristalsis must have taken a bit of control, because I was surprised to see that I was looking down at his lower back with his arms pinned to his sides. I felt his nipples and pectoral muscles sliding against my tongue and felt his head squeezed tightly through my lower esophagus. What was going on? Though the sensation was filling me with dopamine and adrenaline, I realized that somehow my body was getting ready to eat a whole human, so I mentally prepared myself to try and regurgitate him. But instead I felt him force himself deeper into my throat, as his feet pushed off against the floor, and his upper torso wriggled and squirmed to slide deeper into me. I felt a sloshing in my gut, and heard a muffled intake of air and the continuation of more digestion facts being spewed out of Max’s ever curious mind obsessed with digestion.

Since Max seemed so intent on getting inside my stomach, and I knew I would need to breathe soon, I decided to help him out. I lifted his legs up over my head and felt gravity pulling him down my throat. I pulled his gym shorts and such off him and felt the interesting texture of his little belly over his abs, mixed with gym sweat and belly hair, felt past his hard on and groin, and his thick thighs as they all passed over my tongue and against my soft palate. My stomach finally began to feel full, as it sloshed with its soupy contents of dinner encasing Max’s squirming upper body. I knew Max’s hands had been freed from the tight grip of my esophagus as my inner stomach felt a peculiar tickling sensation with Max rubbing it from the inside. I felt him poke around and heard his muffled casual observations about my stomach.

I felt Max’s muscles seize up as he put his legs together tightly and let them slide easily down my throat. I felt his cold feet tickle my tongue, uvula and esophagus until they finally plopped into my stomach and I felt my throat open enough for me to exhale and breathe in more oxygen finally.

I took a few moments to gather my thoughts and catch my breath, feeling Max move around and curl up into a ball inside my tight stomach. I looked down to see the bulge his head made toward the top of my belly, with other odd bumps sticking out that I assumed were his knees and feet pressing up against my stomach walls. I felt his clammy hands push up against my stomach as he surveyed his new situation.

“Max, I forgot to write this craving down first.” I said, jokingly.

“Don’t worry I already did!” I heard him shout back, hearing it almost come up through my own throat. I stared in confusion at the opened notepad next to me and flipped to the last written note that read ‘Ice cream and everything else isn’t satisfying enough. Maybe eating me will do the trick. - Max’

My belly gurgled in surprise, “You planned for me to eat you?”

“I did shove myself down your throat, didn’t I?”

“But why would you -”

“Hey you didn’t try and stop me, bud,” he replied. I felt a pat against my belly, and shivered a little bit.

“Yeah, but I thought you just wanted to glance inside, but you wriggled in deeper!”

“Are you mad that I did?” Max asked. I felt him shifting his weight inside my gut and resting into me.

I considered the events of the night. I had really craved a day to just eat all I wanted, and Max gave all that to me and more. Even though I definitely didn’t expect him to force his way onto the menu, my belly felt much more satiated than it had been. “... I’m not mad at you… just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into… but I do have a confession.”

“What is it?” Max asked, shifting around and pressing his head up against the place where my hand was resting on my belly.

“I could go for some orange sherbert right now… I think your diet tactic failed.” My stomach added a large grumble and groan in agreement.

“Failed for you, maybe. But I’m cozy!” Max tried to stretch out a bit and I watched my stomach bulges shift in a funny manner, and felt my belly tighten and knead Max in response. “Plus, I think I figured out why you’ve been so hungry lately.”

“And what have you discovered?”

“That you should have eaten me ages ago! Once I’m digested into belly fat you’ll have more energy stored in your cells for longer, so you won’t be as hungry all the time! It’s simple science,” Max replied matter of factly.

“I’m not sure that science is sound, but as long as you’re happy, I’m fat and happy.”

“If you don’t think the science is sound, maybe you ought to repeat the experiment. Have a cheat day every once in a while,” Max replied, as he curled into a tight ball again and let my stomach relax and get to work over him. “I know I’ve been seeing that cute guy at the gym drooling over your gut, you know, the one who always wears that green hat? I’m sure he’d love to be a part of your next cheat day once you’ve had enough of your salads and diet again.”

I enjoyed the peace of feeling Max getting comfortable deep in my gut. I took deep breaths and felt my diaphragm move Max around slightly as my chest expanded and contracted. “Maybe I’ll ask him. But I’ll leave it up to him whether he wants to take it as far as you did tonight.” I rubbed my belly and stared, mesmerized at the lumpy spots on my belly indicating Max’s body relaxing against my stomach walls. I felt his heartbeat in polyrhythm against mine, with his breathing patterns tickling my stomach walls. I tasted the lasting flavors of his skin on my tongue, mixed with ice cream and other sustenance I had downed throughout the evening. Good thing we worked out first, to balance out this sharp intake in calories. So I suppose even if I had a cheat day from my diet, eating a whole human balances out to be healthy, right?

[gyunglitter]

i'll always choose you ⚘ choi beomgyu

-for the days being alive seems too hard, you're so happy to have your boyfriend

warnings: none really, just beomgyu being a simp—also, not edited

tags: established relationship, angst, fluff, hurt to comfort

notes: this is the first time i’ve ever finished a story (even if it is just a one shot), but i’m so happy it was this one. i wrote this during a couple of my bad days, so i hope it can help you on yours <3

Beomgyu was just barely getting out of his post-practice shower when he heard his special ringtone he had set just for you go off. You hadn’t talked to each other all day, your last interaction being a quick facetime and good night texts. And while the other members teased him for being clingy, he admitted with his full chest that he missed you. Tiredly wiping a towel through his damp hair, Beomgyu looked at his phone to see a new text message from you.

From: bubs <3

are you busy?

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow at the simple message; typically, you were a pretty energetic texter. It was something he liked about you since he was the same way with people he cared about. Your relationship was still fairly new, but he didn’t think it felt that way with you– the two of you seemed to just get one another, clicking instantly right off the bat and your connection getting deeper with every interaction. So to see a quick text like that surprised him a little bit, but with the thought of getting to facetime you, Beomgyu texted you back immediately.

To: bubs <3

hey, just got out of the shower! practice went a little long today🙃

Beomgyu set his phone down for a moment to throw on some clothes, thinking you would take a bit longer to respond since you typically send longer texts once you knew he was free to talk. However, he was proven wrong when he heard your ringtone go off not even ten seconds later.

From: bubs <3

can i see you?

Beomgyu couldn’t help but feel a little worried as he glanced at the message, throwing his shirt on to get his hands back on his phone. Call him dramatic, but the simple sentence made the worst possible scenarios run through his mind.

To: bubs <3

is everything okay?

what happened?

From: bubs <3

it’s fine

nothing happened

sorry, didn’t mean to worry you

A sigh left Beomgyu’s mouth as he read your last text, confusion and worry only building up even more. Though you assured him nothing had happened, it sure as hell didn’t feel like it. Not only were your texts incredibly bland, but you also weren’t elaborating much of anything, something you supremely hated. Communication was key to you, and he was just now starting to realize why.

To: bubs <3

are you at your dorm right now?

From: bubs <3

yeah

To: bubs <3

okay, did you want any food or anything?? i can drop by the dumpling place or tteokbokki stand on the way to yours! 

From: bubs <3

its fine, see you soon?

To: bubs <3

yeah, i’ll be there in 15

just gotta let the guys know!

Beomgyu waited for any other texts from you to come through, but was left with the same screen. No “thanks”, no “stay safe” text, not even one emoji that could possibly express some form of affection. At first he thought you got into an accident of some disastrous sort, spiking his worries. Now, he can feel the worry levels rising again, this time for himself.

What if you wanted to break up with him?

He thought your two a half months of being together had been perfect so far, he hadn’t messed up once. Sure, he teased you about the way you sang his songs sometimes, or the times you needed his help with your perilla leaf, or even when you couldn’t beat Hueningkai in arm wrestling. But he thought it was cute! He thought you liked him annoying you since you dished it back much worse than he did–BUT WHAT IF YOU DIDN’T?

Oh no. 

He had to beg you to not leave him, he was not ready to let you go, he hadn’t even taken you to meet Toto yet.

You sat by your front door, resting your head beside the door frame as you waited for Beomgyu to show up. You had no idea how much time had passed since you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at your phone after his last message got through to you. You’d left your phone on your bed and used your remaining energy to trudge your way to the front door. You were tired.

True to your texts to your boyfriend, nothing had happened. And it was okay. You weren’t, but the vague subject of “it” very much was. Sort of.

Nothing inherently bad happened to you: no one spilt their coffee on you, no mean people at work, not even a long red light while driving home. It had just been one of those days where the world felt a little heavier on you. You honestly haven't felt this way in a while. Not since before meeting Beomgyu, who made you smile more than you thought was possible. But alas, mental illness isn’t cured so easily.

You’d gotten home from work less than thirty minutes ago, but you had yet to feel any relief yet. Not knowing what to do and not wanting to be alone, you reached out to the boy who makes you feel lighter effortlessly. You’ve only been together for two and a half months, but they have been the happiest two and a half months you’ve experienced–cheesiness be damned.

Frantic knocks on the front door motivated you to get up for your boyfriend, the tightness in your chest already getting ready to loosen at the thought of Beomgyu standing on the other side. 

You could see your boyfriend’s startled face when you opened the door, most likely from the fact that he had barely taken his fist off the wood when you’d whipped it open.

“Y-Y/n! I got here as fast as I could! I know what you’re gonna say, and I just wanna say first that I’m so sorry for teasing you so much–you just make the cutest facial expressions when you get annoyed and I didn’t realize you might have actually cared that I said Hyuka’s arms are bigger than your mom–”

You stared at the boy rambling in front of you, waving one arm in the air as chaotically as his words. However, you also saw in his other hand was a small bunch of flowers–flowers that looked suspiciously like the ones planted in your main lobby’s centerpieces. The poor things still had clumps of dirt on their ends and were staining your boyfriend’s fingers, but he didn’t show any indication of caring as he was still staring at you intently, unshed tears lining his eyes.

This was your boyfriend. Your sweet, loud, silly boyfriend who never failed to make you feel lighter. Effortlessly.

Quickly, you wrapped your arms around Beomgyu’s waist and held him tightly. You felt his arms secure themselves around you automatically. You only realized he’d done it without thinking when he stopped talking and could feel his heart rate suddenly pick up after a few seconds in each other’s arms.

“I don’t wanna break up with you, you loser,” you muttered into his neck and chest.

Beomgyu breathed out. “You don’t?”

“No, I just…really wanted to see you.”

All you could manage was burying yourself even deeper into your boyfriend’s embrace. For the first time today, you felt like you could finally trust someone enough to take hold of the weight from the world and bear it with you. As a result, you slowly leaned against Beomgyu even more and let him really hold you, feeling as if you didn’t have to hold yourself up now that you knew help was here.

Beomgyu tightened his grip on you, when he felt you sigh into his neck. His mind flashed back to the messages you sent. Sure he was relieved that you weren’t trying to leave him, but now he was back to square one: worrying about you.

“Y/n?” He whispered into your hair.

“Hm?”

“I…I really like you, y/n…” Beomgyu admitted quietly. “You said nothing happened, but I know you’re not okay. I don’t know what’s wrong, but please tell me so I can fix it.”

He felt your head burrow even further into him for a second and was about to say…well he doesn’t quite know what to say, he’s just so damn worried about you. But he ended up not needing to say anything. Because you had instead pushed yourself away from his embrace and grabbed his hands, not minding the dirt gathering on your fingers from his pathetic flowers.

“Let’s head inside, Gyu.” 

And you led him through, not letting go of his hand once. Not even when he reached to take off his shoes. You instead stuck to him, as if you couldn’t bear to be physically apart from him for one second. He didn’t mind. He felt the same way.

When you both made it to your room, Beomgyu placed the crushed flowers on your bedside table and laid down on your bed. It only took him a second to open his arms for you to snuggle into him once again, shrinking yourself even more than you had before. He massaged the back of your neck under your hair, a habit he randomly developed with you to soothe both you and himself, and felt you release another big sigh.

Though this felt really nice, Beomgyu couldn’t feel at ease. This was completely new territory for the both of you. Sure, you had many quiet moments together. But your silences together were more so ones of peace. This one felt more like…an absence. As if he was missing something and just waiting for you to fill it in again.

“Thanks for the flowers. I’m sorry I worried you so much,” you whispered, your voice so low he wouldn’t have been able to hear had it not been for the lack of space between you. You sounded so, well, small.

And as much as Beomgyu wanted to tell you it was okay, he knew he couldn’t. Because if he said it was, you’d think you could do it again. And he really did not want to go through feeling like this again. Others would call him dramatic, but he calls it his Y/n Intuition. You may be the light in his life, but he knows all about hiding your real feelings behind a smile.

“I just…I don’t think about what I’m saying or doing sometimes when I get…like this…”

He can practically hear the struggle you’re going through as you try to communicate with him.

“What is this, bubs?” Beomgyu asked patiently, prompting you to keep trying.

Taking a breath, you took the time to sort out your thoughts before saying, “Somedays I just wake up…duller I guess.”

“Duller?”

You nodded hesitantly. “Like the colors are fading, my days all become the same, and even though I just woke up I’m so tired. And I just…don’t get the point anymore.”

Beomgyu tried his hardest to not flinch at your confession. 

“I’m so tired, Beomgyu, I can’t bring myself to do anything. And I can’t want to do anything either. Just the thought of it….” You shook your head back and forth, as if to erase what you’d just said. “Agh, I hate myself sometimes. I’m sorry, that’s so lazy. I’m not like this most of the time, I promise, Gyu. Some days are just harder than others.”

Beomgyu frowned deeply at your denial to yourself. He didn’t like hearing the things you thought about unconsciously, but even more, he didn’t like the way you talked about yourself.

“Why do you talk about yourself like that?” He asked, hands still.

You raised your head to look up at him. “Like what?”

“‘Lazy’. You’re not lazy, y/n.”

“That’s what being lazy is, dude,” you scoffed, letting out a light laugh.

But Beomgyu shook his head. “That’s not the root of the issue–there’s a difference between being lazy and overwhelmed. It happens to me too, you can’t help that sometimes. But you’re. Not. Lazy, y/n. You just need help.”

He watched as your eyes widened at him, before you frowned and scoffed, mostly aimed toward yourself. “I’m, uh, not very good at asking for help.”

“You did a good job of getting me here,” Beomgyu smiled.

You shook your head at him. “But I wasn’t trying to get you here for help. I…” you sighed out, laying your head back in Beomgyu’s neck. “I just wanted you.”

With a new soft feeling taking over, Beomgyu nearly burst into tears for the second time that night. He felt things in his heart and stomach he had never felt before, and he didn’t want it to ever go away. God, he couldn’t put a proper name to how he felt, but he wanted you too.

“I missed you today, “ he whispered into the quiet room.

“Yeah?” you whispered back.

“Mhm. Practice went long today, but it felt even longer because I couldn’t focus on anything but that goodnight text you sent me last night.”

“It wasn’t anything special, Gyu,” you said, but he could tell that you were blushing, which made him let out a soft chuckle.

“I swear, you have such a way with words, bubs, I think you chose the wrong profession,” he joked lightly, feeling the way your lips curved against his neck. “But it’s not always the words you say that matter to me, it’s the fact that you say anything at all.”

Beomgyu’s hand that had been rubbing the back of your neck moved down to squeeze your waist again.

He said softly, “I know it’s hard for you to see what the point is some days, I feel like that sometimes too. But I just have to remind myself of the things that keep me happy.”

“Like Toto?” you chimed in, a small smile creeping up your lips as Beomgyu snorted at your lame joke to stop your tears from coming.

“I was thinking more about you, but yes, I guess he counts too.”

You gasped playfully, “Wow, some pet owner you are.”

He just shrugged in response. “It was either that or a being a good boyfriend, bubs.”

“Well,” you sighed heavily, “Even though I feel bad for your bird, I have to say I am grateful you chose the second option. I mean, look at these beautiful flowers you got me. They’re so authentic, they still have the dirt from my lobby on them.”

Beomgyu merely smiled, before saying, “It’s not that hard of a decision—I’ll always choose you, bubs.”

He felt a groan reverberate off of his neck from your whining form and tried to stop the laugh from bubbling out of his chest, knowing it would distract you from his point. Meanwhile you were too busy trying to fight off your embarrassment.

“Oh my god, Gyu, you’re so cheesy!” You try and nestle into your boyfriend further to hide from him, but fail as you’re already as close as can be. And with the fact that Beomgyu does not put up with it this time.

“No y/n, I mean it!” Your boyfriend pushed you away gently but firmly to make you see his gaze that was filled with determination and sincerity. “I know it’s only been a couple of months, but you need to know this because I can’t see myself not being with you anytime in the near future. Meaning there are going to be more days like this, whether it’s you feeling off, or me! While I try to let you know just how much I care about you everyday, I want you to remember especially on the hard days that you are so important; to the people you call family, to the people you work with, to the people you smile at, to our friends, to my family, to me. God, y/n, you mean the world to me.”

You could feel tears start to build up on your lash line. Usually you’d try and hide away when you started to get emotional, but between Beomgyu’s firm hands holding you and his own watery eyes staring intently into yours, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

“While I want you to be the happiest person everyday of your life and never have to cry, I know personally how that isn’t healthy or fair of me to put on you,” Beomgyu said, his voice starting to become wobbly, “So whenever you feel like this, I want you to know that I understand. And if you’ll have me, I’ll be here.”

The tears were already falling, from both your eyes and his, but you didn’t care. All you could feel was Beomgyu’s heart beating under your hand as you slowly moved it to rest on his chest. Your heart rate matched his easily, speeding up just the tiniest bit as Beomgyu moved his hand to rest on top of yours.

“Gyu…”

“Please have me, Y/n. I really, really like you. And I want to be here, no matter what kind of day it is,” he whispered now, the words slowly getting lower the closer you inched to him.

You let out the smallest laugh, as if the peaceful feeling filling your stomach was floating through your lungs to now fill the small space between you and your boyfriend's lips. The laugh was a tinkly, kind sound that seemed to have reached Beomgyu, because the tears running down his cheeks were overtaken by his dimples you so famously adored. Your laugh sounded out, but the smile on your face remained as you started to cup his cheek and lightly trace over his dimple.

“God…you mean the world to me too, Beomgyu,” you whispered.

Your voice sent shivers down Beomgyu’s spine, and the way he sighed in awe at your words made you lean forward to close the space between you two, your lips finally connecting after what felt like too long.

His hands shifted to tugging you even closer as he sighed in the kiss. You hummed against his lips as well, relishing in the way he deepened the kiss, a bit desperately as if he couldn’t possibly get enough of you. You couldn’t complain, as you felt the exact same. And as you felt the connection between you both deepen, you could also feel the tightness in your chest melt away.

While you knew your problems/feelings weren’t something Beomgyu could kiss away, you knew he would understand. You knew he would be there. And you knew he would care. 

And for now, that was enough to get you out of bed the next morning with a smile, ready to take on another day.

(additional) notes: just wanted to say that while this beomgyu isn’t real, i hope y’all know that everything this one said is still true. if y’all need anything, message me or any of the ones mentioned and watch some to do :)

[promptthebear]

Kissmas Day 9

Prompt: Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x Reader

CW: Female reader, lots and lots of swearing (It's Sandor c'mon now), reader is pregnant, some mentions of canon typical violence. If i forget anything please let me know!

A/N: Hello! This is a little different from the last few fics I wrote. I was going for like something cozy? So the pacing is a little slower and it's sort of a "not much happens but there's vibes" kind of fic. Hopefully you all enjoy it. I just really wanted to give my boy a story where he's safe, well fed, well rested, and doesn't have shit trying to kill him for like five minutes.

It was still dark when Sandor awoke, and colder than a wight’s arse. He could see the earliest light of dawn, though, through a nearby window. Pale yellow rays were starting to kiss the tops of the large, gloomy pines that encircled your cottage, and he knew it would be several hours yet before the sun would provide any proper warmth.

Grumbling and cursing under his breath, Sandor pushed back the furred hide that served as a blanket and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He hissed when his feet touched the floor, the chill so fierce it bit at his soles, even through the two layers of woolen socks he wore. Everyone, from great Kings to common fools, knew that Winters in the North were bitterly cold. But it was one thing to hear the tavern stories and another thing all together when you were trying to live through it.

He wondered, as he tugged on his boots, why he didn’t make for the Free Cities and Dorne like the few remaining knights did when the whole world finally fell apart in flame and ruin. Yes, the stories of the fine wines and glimmering cities where even beggars could be Kings might have been exaggerated, but it couldn’t be any worse than here. At the very least, it might be nice to live somewhere your piss didn’t freeze midstream and your cock didn’t stick to your hand each time you used the privy.

Sandor turned the idea over in his mind, finding that its appeal grew with each passing moment. However, any thoughts of leaving vanished the instant he glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of your face peeking out from under the edge of the blankets. Your expression was peaceful, almost serene.

He leaned over you, his hair falling around his cheeks like a curtain, and placed a quick kiss against your temple. You stirred slightly in response, your eyelashes fluttering as a soft moan escaped your lips.

“Whassamatter?”

Sandor chuckled and reached out to deliver a gentle pat to your side before answering.

“Nothing. Gonna go cut some firewood. I’ll be back before you’re up.”

You mumbled something in reply, too faint for him to make out, before sleep’s embrace claimed you once more. He chuckled again and fondly shook his head.

At one point, nobody wanted to spend a night in his bed, not even when he'd gone to a brothel. Those girls had been too frightened of his face to give him more than a few hours at most, leaving him to wake to a cold bed and empty purse the next morning.

You, on the other hand, were comforted enough by his presence to stay through the night. You even claimed you slept more soundly when he was with you. It had taken a while before Sandor believed you, but after over a year of waking with you warm and content beside him, he was starting to see that you’d been telling the truth.

The bedroom door squeaked as it opened, which made the large, shaggy dog the two of you kept leap to its feet and growl deep in its throat. Sandor shushed the animal, which immediately bounded over from its spot by the fireplace, tongue out and tail wagging at the sight of its master.

“Stupid mutt.” Sandor said, as he began to rumple and massage the dog’s ears. “Good thing you’re loyal, or else what use would you be?”

The dog, which you’d so cleverly called Nameless because Sandor had refused to give it one, eagerly leaned into his touch and gazed up at him in squinty eyed delight. You’d found the poor beast roughly around the same time Sandor had been able to walk again, where he’d been left to die in some abandoned crofter’s hut.

At first, Sandor had wanted nothing to do with the animal. As far as he was concerned, you didn’t need another mouth to feed, what with him still half crippled and you were only able to set the most basic of rabbit snares. There had barely been enough food for the two of you, let alone a walking gut disguised as a dog.

He’s a big, black dog you’d insisted on just like your crest. If that’s not a sign from the gods, I don’t know what is.

Bugger the gods had been Sandor’s reply, but in the end, he’d yielded, if only to have some peace from your griping. Since then, Nameless had followed Sandor around like a second shadow. He’d cursed the beast and the bitch that whelped him each time he got underfoot, but eventually this gave way to begrudging acceptance and finally a quiet sort of affection.

Whoever left Nameless behind had, whether they knew it or not, forfeited a skilled hunting dog. Despite his sweet nature with people, he could catch rabbits and squirrels as skillfully as any wolf, which kept you and Sandor well stocked with meat despite the North’s unforgiving climate.

Once again, Sandor found himself questioning why he’d chosen to live in the frozen arse end of the world as he tried to open the front door. A thick layer of ice had settled over the tiny cottage you called home, a parting gift from last night’s storm.

Despite ample shoving and force, the door was refusing to cooperate. With each attempt, the aged wood groaned and creaked as though in protest, but wouldn’t budge. Though he couldn’t see it, Sandor had a feeling the damn thing had frozen shut in its frame, which was a much more common occurrence than he would’ve liked it to be. With a muttered oath, he threw his shoulder against the wood, swearing louder at the shock of pain that came after.

A thin sweat had broken out on Sandor’s brow when he finally gave himself a moment to breathe, half slumped against the bastard door and wishing agonies upon whichever fool god made ice to begin with. He stole a glance over his shoulder, hoping the racket hadn’t woken you, and was greeted with the sight of Nameless. The dog was sitting a few feet behind him and watching the entire process as though it was a Mummer’s show Sandor was putting on especially for him.

“Are you just going to look? Or are you going to be helpful for once in your sorry life?”

By way of response, Nameless rose to his feet, stood for a moment, squinted at Sandor, and then let out a quick, loud sneeze that sent forth a spray of drool and dust motes into the chilled air. Satisfied, the dog sat down again with a bump, and stared at his master. He cocked his head to one side, and spread his mouth wide in a lolling, doggy grin, as if two of them were sharing some sort of secret joke.

Sandor couldn’t help but grin back, albeit a little lopsidedly, before returning to the problem of the door. Once upon a time, he could’ve split the bloody thing in two with the heel of his boot and a well-aimed kick, but he had been a different man then. The Hound, with all his strength and rage, had died with Gregor the day they both went over the falls. Now, all that remained was Sandor, who had to huff and puff and struggle with frozen doors just like anyone else.

When the door finally gave way, it did so with a mighty crack, which shattered the morning air in a flurry of loose snow that tumbled off the roof and bits of ice that shimmered like diamond shards as they fell.

Sandor stumbled outside, shoulder first since he was mid shove when the door decided to open. Instantly, he was blinded by the sheer, sterile whiteness of fresh snow and sunbeams that cut like yellow knives after the dimness of the cottage. For a moment, he had little choice but to wait and lean against the door frame while his vision cleared.

Despite the early hour, the woods were already awake and teeming with life. Around him, Sandor could hear all manner of birdsong, as well as the chattering of squirrels and the far off call of a solitary deer.

From behind the cottage came the sounds of the sheep, small, squat, shaggy creatures with more wool than brains between their ears. They bleated mournfully from inside their little shed, hoping it would get them fed all the sooner, but their cries stirred no pity in Sandor’s heart. He could hardly stand the sight of the fool things, with their empty eyes and the way they ran in panicked, useless circles every time they were frightened.

When you’d first asked Sandor why he hated the sheep so much, he told you it was because he had no patience for anything, man or beast, that was too stupid to know how stupid it actually was. You’d laughed at that, a bright, musical sound that made warmth bloom in Sandor’s chest, but you hadn’t left the matter alone like he’d hoped.

As far as you were concerned, there was no point in wasting time hating something so pathetic and harmless and so you persisted. If Sandor was stubborn, you were twice as much, pestering him with that unfaltering cheerfulness each time you went you to feed the damn things. Eventually, he relented, the name and reason tumbling from his lips like rain after a drought.

Mycha.

From the ashes of Sandor’s rage, shame had blossomed, and with it a thin, choking vine that clenched a little tighter around his heart each time he’d thought of the boy. He’d lived what felt like a thousand different lifetimes since that fateful day by the river, and no matter how much he’d drunk, fought or fucked, he couldn’t seem to shake that one particular ghost. It was as though a small part of Mycha had always been there, slowly poisoning what little shreds of goodness Sandor had managed to grasp hold of, and for a while, he supposed that was what he deserved. Until you came along.

You, who had dragged Sandor out from the water when he was little more than a half drowned corpse. You, who had set every broken bone, stitched every wound and fed him spoonfuls of broth even when he’d cursed you after each one. With your constant, stubborn, infuriating cheerfulness, you had talked Sandor into talking, smiled him into smiling, and somehow loved him into loving you back. You had become the sun that rose and set on each day of Sandor’s life. You were what got him up in the mornings and kept him working until dusk. The thought of losing you, or worse, having you cast him aside, scared him more than dragons, others, and his cunt brother ever had.

That was why, in the end, Sandor had chosen to tell you the truth. At least then you’d hear it from him, instead of whatever exaggerated horseshit the village gossips would invent. Ugly as it was, Sandor knew honesty would be his friend in this matter, and he’d had more than his fill of liars after spending so much time in service to the Lannisters.

And so you came to know the whole sordid tale, one dreary morning in the sheep shed. He spared no detail, no matter how gruesome it was or how poorly it reflected on his character. If you were going to keep loving him, it was best you knew the sort of man you’d chosen, lest the truth curdle what little affection he’d earned.

At first, Sandor wasn’t sure how you were going to take things. He half expected you to try to brain him with the bucket of sheep’s feed, then drive him off in a hail of shrieking and chunks of dung. Tears were also a likely possibility, though you didn’t really seem the type. But learning that the man who you’d let into your home and bed had the blood of an innocent child on his hands could make anyone behave strangely.

When he’d finally got up the courage to stop staring at his boots and look into your face, you, as always, surprised him. You were smiling at him, that same warm, gentle smile that Sandor remembered from the moment he’d woken up in your arms.

I know is what you’d said. I’ve always known, and I love you anyway.

You’d reached for him after, setting aside your bucket so you could bring your hand up and caress his scarred cheek. Sandor had leaned into your touch, like it was the only thing keeping him from breaking apart into a million pieces. Of course you’d known, who in all the Seven Kingdoms hadn’t heard the stories about King Joffery’s rabid dog and the things he’d done? He should’ve given you more credit.

From there, it had been easy enough to tell you why he hated those sheep. Their cries, the sheer terror in their eyes each time he approached? They reminded him too much of that boy, and regardless of how you felt about it, he was not entirely certain he’d ever be able to forget. It was one thing to have your forgiveness and another thing entirely to be able to forgive himself.

Give it time is what you’d told him And let me worry about the sheep. You’ve got enough to do around here, anyway.

The sound of Nameless’ barking is what suddenly tugged Sandor from his memories and back into the here and now. Somehow, the dog had managed to squeeze past him without Sandor noticing, and he was now diving face first through the fresh snow, on the hunt for grouse tracks and anything else that would provide a decent chase.

Sandor watched for a moment, unable to hide the smile playing about his lips. The sight of the big dog, now sporting a healthy dusting of snow across his shoulders and muzzle, was enough to brighten anyone’s mood. He supposed, after almost starving to death on his own, the idiot creature was simply happy to be alive long enough to see another day.

The two of them would go and check Sandor’s traps later. With any luck, they’d snag a rabbit or two that you could roast for supper and have plenty of bones left for Nameless to enjoy. But, in the meantime, you wouldn’t be cooking anything if there wasn’t any wood for the fire.

It hadn’t warmed up any by the time Sandor walked to the woodshed. The snows frozen crust crunched under his feet as he walked, while his breath floated away in thick, white clouds that dampened his beard. His axe, stuck blade down in the stump a few feet away from the woodshed, was a welcome sight.

It was by no means half the weapon his greatsword had been, but Sandor found comfort in the way its worn, wooden handle fit snugly into his grasp and in its blade that thirsted for pine sap instead of blood.

Before long, the sound of logs splitting filled the air, mingling with the soft creak of trees in the wind and an occasional bark from Nameless. Sandor quickly found his rhythm, letting the weight of the axe guide his arm on the downstroke and pushing aside each long with his other hand to be stacked in the shed later.

He went on like that for a while, cut, push, another log, and do it again. The repetition of the work was soothing, almost meditative. It brought a sense of peace to Sandor the way only busy hands could.

Cut, push, new log, do it again.

It was like the axe was an extension of his arm, with the beat of his heart matching each thud of the blade and his breath moving in time as the axe swung through the air. There was most likely going to be a fresh tree fall after last night’s winds, no doubt with plenty of new wood for Sandor to haul home. It probably wouldn’t hurt to bring a length of rope and the sledge when he went hunting with Nameless later. If they didn’t catch anything, at least they wouldn’t be coming home empty-handed.

The young pine he was currently working on was halfway gone by the time you’d made an appearance. Sandor hadn’t heard you at first, too absorbed in what he was doing. It was only after you’d said his name for the third time that he’d finally stopped and turned to look at you over his shoulder, squinting at you as though he wasn’t quite sure who you were or where he was.

“What are you doing out here?”

His tone, like everything about him, was gruff. You smiled at him all the same, knowing that for Sandor, gruffness and worry were often interchangeable.

“Came to check on you. You’ve been out here for hours.”

Sandor glanced upwards and was surprised to find the sun sitting squarely above his head. A sheen of sweat had also broken out over his arms and forehead, and he could feel where it was pooling in the hollows of his back. With a sigh, he set aside his axe and removed his heavy woolen cloak, before turning back towards you.

“Have you been asleep this whole time?”

The slight tilt of his chin in your direction indicated your odd choice of garments. Born to a wilding father and shepherd’s daughter, you always swore the North in your blood kept you from ever truly feeling cold. Still, a sleeping shift, boots, and knit shawl tossed hastily about your shoulders was a questionable choice in midwinter, even for a Northern girl.

You shook your head and gestured back towards the cottage where steam had fogged up the windows.

“I started the laundry, wanted to make use of the sunlight while we still have it. I figured it didn’t make much sense to change until my other clothes were dry, and then I could wash these next.”

Sandor listened to your explanation, his face unchanging save for an arched brow. When you finished, he raised his arm and pointed back at the cottage with a thick finger.

“You should be inside, you fool, woman. You’ll freeze your tits off out here.”

You laughed before wrapping your shawl a little tighter around your shoulders and closing the space between you and Sandor with a few steps.

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times. I’m a Northerner. I don’t get cold. We’re not as pampered as you Southern city types.”

Sandor grumbled softly and shook his head, something about “tongue lashing harpy bitch.” There was no venom behind his words, however, only affectionate resignation. Instinctively, he brought his hand to rest on the curve of your stomach, a protective gesture towards the child you’d been carrying for the last five months. You reached up for Sandor’s face, cupping the scarred side as you usually did against the palm of your hand.

Sandor’s eyes fluttered shut in response to the touch, and for a moment, years seemed to fall away from his expression. He turned his head slightly to the side and pressed a kiss against the skin of your wrist. You loved seeing him like this, vulnerable and content. It was like a glimpse into the past, when he was young and full of hope. However, his eyes opened all too quickly, and he was back to being the Sandor you knew. Older, grumpy, and entirely done with your nonsense.

“Inside. Or I’ll sling you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and bring you there myself”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he’d do no such thing, not while you were pregnant, anyway.

“Fine. But I want a kiss first.”

There was more grumbling, but Sandor did as you asked, catching your mouth against his while his hands snaked down to encircle your hips. You leaned into the kiss, pressing your body as close to his as you could get while still keeping your feet on the ground. His beard was coarse against your cheeks, and he smelled faintly of the woods and sweat. The heat of him seemed to envelope you, like a familiar blanket.

You stood like that for a while, the two of you bathed in morning sunshine and kissing as though you’d never get a chance to do it again. When Sandor tried to pull away, you chased him, closing the space between your mouths by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him downwards. This kiss was a little messier and rougher than the first, most likely due to Sandor’s surprise, but you didn’t mind. It was only when you nibbled at his bottom lip that he broke the kiss off in earnest, catching your two hands in one of his and trapping them against his chest.

“None of that. I told you, go inside.”

You stared up at Sandor and pulled your mouth into an exaggerated pout.

“One more? Please? And then I’ll go, I promise.”

Sandor swore softly under his breath and used his free hand to adjust the front of his trousers before leaning down to claim your mouth again. For a moment, it seemed as though you were going to get your way. Sandor had brought his other hand up to twine in your hair, which only served to deepen the kiss. You welcomed it eagerly, opening your lips and running your tongue against the seam of his mouth. He let out a groan in response, the hand that still held yours squeezing tight. You squirmed against him eagerly, trying to wrap one of your legs around his and haul yourself upwards, your hips seeking the friction they so desperately craved.

This, however, didn’t have the desired effect. Sandor began to laugh, and then placed his hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you back so you could no longer reclaim his mouth.

“I’m not a tree, you little minx, so stop trying to climb me. You said one more, you’ve had one more, and now you’re going to go inside or else.”

One look at Sandor’s face, and you knew there was no use in pushing your luck. With a long, suffering sigh, you stepped away, already mourning the absence of his mouth and hands on your body.

“Fine. But I better see you again before it gets dark. I’ll need to wash those clothes you’re wearing, and I’m not warming up your dinner twice.”

Sandor grunted, the noise vaguely affirmative enough that you took it as agreement. You turned to head back towards the cottage, only to stop mid step when you felt the familiar sting of an open hand strike your ass. You spun back around, your shawl spinning about your shoulders, and stared at Sandor, who grinned wolfishly back.

“That’s not fair!” you sputtered, your already pink cheeks flushing deeper.

“Nothing ever is,” came the reply.

You shook your head, turning once again to leave. Sandor let you do so without further torment, watching the way the sunlight made your hair glisten and the subtle swing of your hips as you walked. Nothing was ever fair, but sometimes things got close, even for an old dog like himself.

[ashwhowrites]

Hi! really love how you work angst to happy endings in your stories, they’re written so well! Can I request a story that goes something like this?:

Let’s say the guys are having a hard time progressing at a certain point in Eddie’s campaign and one of them suggests to take a peek at Eddie’s notebook for some hints and they ask reader if she could help distract Eddie. When they almost get caught reader ends up kissing Eddie to distract him from seeing one of the guys. The kiss kinda gets heated for both of them but once the coast is clear reader abruptly stops the kiss and leaves but now Eddie suddenly has heart eyes for reader and tries to romance her after. she does fall for him until he finds out the truth about the kiss and gets all upset thinking she doesn’t like him at all.

Idk what else but please make it a happy ending! Hehe thank you!

I love this! Absolutely. I hope this is what you wanted :)

Never proofread

Y/N has been part of Hellfire for a few months now, and Eddie has been stuck on her since. He used his leader status to convince her she needed to be seated next to him at all campaigns, an excuse to be near her at all times. But he also didn't want a relationship, so he didn't try to become anything more.

~~~

The club were growing frustrated, every week they played Eddie's campaign and struggled to make progress. Finding themselves stuck and no idea of the direction to go.

They tried to talk about their ideas when Eddie was gone, but he'd always find out what they were planning. Snickering that their ideas would not be successful. Every idea led to failure.

Now the club sat in the hellfire room, thinking hard of what the next step would be. Eddie ran to use the restroom, knowing his sheep needed time to plan their next move.

"This is impossible....maybe we need to cheat." Mike thought out loud. The rest of the club snapped to look at him.

"Are you crazy? He would actually kill us." Dustin replied. He truly thought Mike had lost his mind.

"But honestly it's all we got. There's no way we are going to make any progress without any sort of direction and you know he isn't going to give it to us." Lucas added.

Dustin felt wrong about cheating and Y/N did too.

"I don't know. He works really hard and that's an easy way out." She said, she didn't want to discredit all of Eddie's hard work.

"It's the only option." Mike said. Reaching forward to snatch Eddie's notebook.

The club quickly read through the notes, knowing Eddie would walk back in at any second.

Dustin quickly wrote down what he thinks would be helpful and used it to their advantage.

"Quick he's coming!" Mike rushed out

Dustin tried to write as fast as he could, "Just a lit-" But the door opened, and Eddie came walking in.

His eyes landed on the club suspiciously huddled together over the table.

"What are you guys doing?" Eddie asked, trying to get closer to peek

The club panicked, "Y/N do something." Lucas whispered in her ear.

Her mind blanked she didn't know what to do, but his heavy footsteps were getting closer and closer.

She panicked, feeling his body inches away, if he got any closer he would see what they were doing.

"Hey, I a-" Eddie was caught off when Y/N smashed her lips on his. He felt his body go into shock, her lips were warm and soft. Something he didn't really think about, but now he knew it was all he was going to think about.

Her hands were in his hair, his tongue slipping into her mouth. He was running his hands all around her body, craving to touch her and touch her everywhere.

She whined as he rolled his tongue against hers, a deep groan leaving his throat as she tugged on his hair.

Dustin cleared his throat, alerting Y/N that he finished writing down the notes.

The sound knocked her back to reality, and she pulled away. Her face was on fire as she refused to look at him.

Eddie blinked watching as she sat down like nothing even happened.

~~~

A few days passed since the kiss, and neither has talked about it. The club acted as if the kiss never happened. Eddie was starting to think maybe she found it a mistake.

Eddie craved her more and more. He feels he has fallen for her even more. He wanted her, but he fears she doesn't want him.

The club was successful in completing the mission. And to celebrate, the club went to dinner. Eddie sat across from Y/N, at the end of the table. The rest of the club was stuffed in the booth next to them.

The club was talking about their big win, with cheers all around. Eddie was proud of his club but curious as to how they pulled it off.

"How did you guys do it? You went from being so behind to knowing everything." Eddie said, looking at his club suspiciously.

"We might have cheated," Dustin admitted. He felt ashamed and he needed to get it off of his chest.

"When?" Eddie asked he had a feeling something like that happened, but he wasn't mad.

"When you were tongue deep in Y/N's mouth." Mike laughed

The club laughed but Y/N shrunk in her seat, Eddie's eyes snapping to her instantly. A hurt expression crossed his face.

She kissed him so they could cheat?

She didn't like him at all

"Oh? So that kiss was just a distraction?" Eddie asked. The shakiness in his voice made her look right back at him, guilt in her stomach.

He took her silence as an answer, "I'm gonna go smoke." He snapped, moving out of the booth.

He stormed out of the restaurant, not looking back as he leaned against the wall to light his cigarette. He felt like an idiot, of course, she wouldn't like him. She was way too good for a loser like him.

Y/N felt horrible watching him through the window, "Should I talk to him?" She asked

The group looked between her and Eddie, Dustin was the first to speak up

"I think you should."

She nodded and removed herself from the booth.

A gross pit in her stomach as she found Eddie against the wall.

"Hey, can we talk?" She asked

"About?" Eddie shrugged

"The kiss" She muttered out

"Didn't mean anything, so what is there to talk about?" He asked, inhaling the smoke as he stared at her.

"Eddie, look it wasn't like that. Yes, I kissed you as a distraction, but it wasn't nothing." She admitted

"No, I get it. You kissed me so you guys could cheat. No care about my feelings about anything of it." Eddie snapped, rolling his eyes.

"I knew cheating was wrong and disrespectful to you, and we shouldn't have done it. And it was wrong to kiss you out of nowhere, and as a distraction. And I'm sorry for that." She said

"I appreciate the apology." He said she hated that he had no emotion on his face or behind his voice.

She figured that was the end of it, nodding to herself as she went to head inside, but he stopped her.

"Why was your first thought to kiss me?" He asked, he hoped in some way she was attracted to him or even liked him.

She got shy at the question, feeling her face warm as she thought it over.

"Because I've always wanted to." She shyly admitted. Her hands were in her pockets as she looked up at him

The shock on his face was clear to see, the cigarette hanging from his lip as he stared at her.

He didn't expect her to actually be into him.

"Did you kiss back because you wanted to? Or so I wouldn't embarrass myself?"

"I wanted to." He admitted, smashing his cigarette into the concrete, as he smiled in her direction.

She smiled back, a new atmosphere enclosing them.

"Can you do it again?" She asked, stepping forward as she leaned in.

He smiled as he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting up her chin with his finger.

Meeting her lips halfway, his stomach fluttered at the familiar feeling of her lips.

She tasted his cigarette, and she loved it. The kiss felt dirty and hot. Their bodies crave each other and now they can give in.

tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila

[djwiththejd]

The Fall of the House of Usher (2023) Episode 1

A foreword, of sorts: If someone had told me in high school or even college that I would willingly sit down to watch a horror tv show, I would have laughed in their face. Who knew it would take my college professor Emma's teachings of Pym and my first foray into Critical Theory that I brought with me to law school to get to this point. I haven't even finished watching School Spirits yet so the depression has really taken me for a ride, but my boyfriend says I need a hobby, and I spent two and a half hours and 7 and a half pages of notes on just the first episode of this show, so I'm going to write about it because I miss writing.

If you're here from twitter, may the gods have mercy on your soul.

Now, let's move on to business. My recap of Episode 1 of The Fall of The House of Usher. There will be spoilers for the Poe stories as well as detailed commentary of the events within the episode, so obviously I'm going to put a SPOILER WARNING for whatever you read below. Also, since the first episode introduces the story and the characters, it will probably be long as heck and full of background that no one but me cares about because I'm a huge nerd. I don't care if you skim. Read at your own peril; stay tuned for danger.

Firstly, let's talk about the original short story and see if Wikipedia can help me write a good, short summary of the premise/plot of that story. From within the first two minutes of the show, I can tell that we are going to deviate wildly from the plot.

In the original short story, published in 1839, the tale is told by an unnamed narrator who has been called to the House of Usher at the behest of his childhood friend Roderick Usher who is ill and needs help. Roderick and his twin Madeline are the only living members of the Usher family left alive in their family mansion. One thing that high school teachers everywhere probably tried to teach their students is to pay attention to the narrator's notice of a thin crack that extends from the roof, down the house, and into the nearby lake. This may be important later, but for me right now, I view it as a double entendre. Spoiler alert, at the end of the original short story, both Roderick and Madeline die, leading to the "fall" of the House of Usher, in that the last two living descendants die and therefore end the family name, and also the literal "fall" of the house, the family mansion that they lived in.

I have to admit I watched the first two minutes, tweeted about it, then got so engrossed about halfway through the episode that I grabbed a legal pad and started the episode from the beginning.

Firstly, the opening starts with a countdown to New Year's 1980 before we see a quick image of a cawing raven and a creepy vision of Carla Gugino's smiling face. The episode is titled "A Midnight Dreary," a line from Poe's "The Raven," so at this point I'm confused because obviously this is a completely different short story, but I roll with it. Unfortunately, I didn't have the foresight last night to look ahead and see what the other episode titles were, because then I would have probably understood the plot a little better.

We cut now to a stained glass window in a church (hello Jesus symbolism, can't wait to ponder you later) and then the pastor seems to be giving a eulogy about three dead people. We cut to an older gentleman with a teen girl sitting behind him who seems to be remembering 6 different visions. Side note: I googled the eulogy, and it cobbles together various lines from Poe's poems as well as quotes that are ascribed to Poe. At this point I guess that the older man and older women in sunglasses are the twins, and wonder who the teen girls are behind each of them before seeing MARK MOTHERFUCKING HAMILL on the screen. Even in my notes I just write him down as Mark Hamill, or MH, which is a real shame because his character's name is Arthur Pym, which is the main character from the only "book" Poe ever wrote, and there's a lot of controversy around whether it was finished or not, but I spent several classes in undergrad analyzing that book in particular, so it has a very soft spot in my heart.

Roderick(?) turns back and sees a figure with a blacked out face in the rafters, but then the girl turns around, nobody is there. When she turns to him, she calls him Grampus, so I can assume this girl is his granddaughter and not his daughter. Then Roderick (?) says, "She's here." Not quite to his granddaughter, but mostly to himself. How cryptic. I'm sure we won't think about that until it jumps right into our faces. At this point, in hindsight I had assumed that the "very pale girl" behind Madeline was her granddaughter, but oh how wrong I was.

Outside the church, we see press all over, but the church itself was noticeably empty. Then, then, we cut to a cork board. This confirms Roderick and Madeline are who I thought I was, and also gives Mark Hamill the name of Arthur Pym. Then, I painstakingly went in and paused at nearly every second of the next scene to read the details on the children, their dates of death, and any bits of information I could get from the articles about cause of death (aka COD.) The death dates are clustered very closely together. I don't know quite yet if it goes from youngest to eldest, but I'm sure we shall find out.

Then, the big reveal. Well, to me at least. I saw that the Assistant U.S. Attorney was C. Auguste Dupin, and let me tell you I pumped my fist in the air and nearly woke up my sleeping boyfriend next to me. Why? You don't care but I'm going to tell you. Dupin was introduced in The Murders in the Rue Morgue (1841), my favorite Poe short story, and also the first ever piece of writing ever coined as "detective fiction." Yes, my absolute favorite genre of writing was created by Edgar Allan Poe, so as problematic as he may have been, I will always be grateful to him for this. Besides, the plot for Rue Morgue was so wild, I saw Dupin's name and had to pause and tweet about it. Specifically, I tweeted about hoping that one of the CODs would be strangulation by an escaped monkey. Mind you, like an idiot, I still haven't looked at the damn names of all of the episodes of the series. Since last night, I have been told to keep an eye out, so that's fun.

I can't believe I typed all of that up from the first like, three minutes of the show. I warned you this was going to be long.

Then, we pan out to the corkboard being a whole ass murder board. We love that. Still no clue who Pym is and why he's alive, but the random guy who walked into the office to talk to Dupin just said something about a Pym Reaper, so I got a chuckle out of that. There's emphasis here about "him" wanting to talk. Obviously, by process of elimination, this him is Roderick.

Dupin takes a taxi (oooh, vintage) to this location, and we see it is a dilapidated house. The "House" of Usher, methinks? I will say it definitely gives rise to the gothic vibe of terror and dread, but thankfully we're not going into Gothic architecture, that would have been a little too on the nose. The clothing I've seen is very modern and the death dates are all in November, so I genuinely thought it was set last year but it wasn't. Everything is apparently set to happen next month. In the future. How foreboding.

Roderick invites Dupin in and Dupin attempts to console Roderick for his losses, but Roderick seems much more focused on the drink in his hand. Henri IV Dudognon Heritage Cognac Grande Champagne. I googled it and apparently it is a real drink. I have to say, Roderick really doesn't seem to curry favor with Dupin when he suggests "a single pour is probably worth double your annual salary" but then he offers a glass to Dupin. This man is clearly going through something. By now, I can surmise it is the death of his family, but is this The House of Usher? Is this dilapidated building the same setting that we see in the original tale? Is Dupin now taking the place of the unnamed narrator of past?

Dupin still tries to apologize, but Roderick just seems...resigned to his fate. Also, Dupin asks where Mr. Pym is and we find out that Mark Hamill is playing a defense attorney. Amazing. Three years of law school and a JD later, and Mark Hamill, one of my favorite actors, is playing an attorney with the name of one of my most intriguing literary characters. All of my worlds have collided.

Roderick waives his right to an attorney and sits Dupin down across from him to talk. Dupin says Roderick got away with it, Roderick says no one really ever gets away with anything, not really. Dupin pushes back and says Madeline would beg to differ. Roderick says you can ask yourself, she's downstairs in the basement. At this point, I am convinced that Madeline is dead and buried, but this episode will not reveal that information to me. Trust me, I'm holding onto that theory because it is close in parallel to the original story, but I am soooo open at this point to being surprised because the actor for Roderick has sucked me in completely. Bruce Greenwood. I have painfully powerful facial recognition, so it delights me that I've never seen him in anything before so I can get sucked into his acting completely. Seriously, I just recently recognized the brother in Get Out from a single episode of Victorious because that one episode is my favorite. It can ruin my immersion sometimes.

Anyhow, back to the story. I'm rambling, but I have ADHD and I miss stream of consciousness writing so this is more for me than it is for you.

Roderick's phone vibrates, he says it is his granddaughter, Lenore. My eyeballs are rolling back into my head. We have a connection to The Raven, finally. She's not dead at present, so we shall see if she follows her namesake into the Great Beyond. Dupin tries to graciously allow Roderick to take that call and cites that "grandkids take priority" but Roderick calls him out!

He says "Don't lecture me about family values. You're just as shit in that department as I am."

At this point I am confused but I can't look away. Roderick says he wants to give his confession. Dupin whips out a recorder. November 20th, 2023. Roderick confirms we are in his childhood home. I am vibrating like a cat because I think my theory is correct, and I realize that based off of the death dates of his children, that much of this series will be told from this setting, in those chairs, and with flashbacks to important moments.

I was not prepared for the beginning of this story. In 1953, the house is warmer, more cheerful. R and M are just children, and Roderick speaks about "the woman who would shape every choice we would ever make." Their mother. Eliza. Aptly given the same name as Poe's mother. Personal secretary to the CEO of Fortunato Pharmaceuticals. The same company the Ushers own in modern times. Already I have questions about the lineage of the twins, but you know how it is.

"Not here. Not ever. We agreed." Very cryptic words, Mr. Longfellow. Madeline always hated him, she "always knew." Knew he was a liar? A terrible person? Or did she know he was their father?

Then we get into the religious phrases the mom uses. "Like Jesus, he loves from afar." "He's complicated, like God." I always find it very interesting but also very sad when the words a woman uses to justify a man's abuse is cloaked in a veil of religion. I won't go into detail on that, though. There just isn't time.

Jump to 1962. Nine years later, the twins look to be teenagers. Their studying is interrupted by a bell, and we cut to Eliza ringing a bell in bed. There is a plethora of crosses now hanging on the wall behind her, so that's...lovely. Both twins rush to her, and Eliza pushes a glass of water away. At first I thought it was rabies, but then Eliza seems to be suffering from pain in her pelvic region based off of how her actress was portraying her pain. Honestly, my theory is that she probably had an untreated STI which may have spread to other organs. Either way, her denial of medication or a doctor horrifies me. The screaming and the vitriol is a complete tone shift to who she was prior. But what I really find interesting is that Madeline, not Roderick, seems to be the brains of the pair. She is the one who coaches Roderick on what to say and how to say it to Longfellow, even though Roderick eventually messes up. There seems to be a double entendre in the way Madeline says "it's the least he can do." Because I have suspicions that Madeline knows he is their father, I keep autofilling this in my head. The shift in Mr. Longfellow's mood from humorous, almost mocking disbelief to anger and contemptuous pushback against the twins when Roderick tells him "she loves you" is enough for me. Even Madeline following up with "It's the least you could do. For her. For us." isn't necessary anymore for me to believe he is the father.

Longfellow's denial only seals the deal.

Cut to Eliza's...corpse. She didn't make it, but in trying to keep with her wishes, they tear apart the shed and build her a coffin and bury her in the backyard. Of course, because *spoiler alert* Madeline was accidentally buried alive, I had a hunch Eliza might climb out of her grave. I was proven right, and Eliza wakes up, tries to attack Roderick, but stops when Eliza calls her "Mommy" and grabs her arm. (Actress for teen Madeline is also fantastic, her look of horror was evocative as fuck. 10/10. No notes.) ELiza then walks out, goes into the gates of Longfellow's house and proceeds to choke him to death (with apparently superhuman strength) before finally collapsing next to his body.

What I *love* about this all is that when we cut back to the present, and Dupin asks about why Roderick is telling him all this, Roderick says it is because she's standing right behind Dupin! And you know what drives me nuts? SHE IS. SHE'S TOTALLY THERE AND HE DOESN'T TURN AROUND! Dupin does not see her and we see eliza walk out of the frame.

It is important to note that Roderick talks about the cleanup of that story to spare "his" family, the Usher family, of any embarrassment. He confirms that Longfellow was his father but doesn't claim him as family because Longfellow never claimed him, but it explains why he acknowledges all six of his children from five different mothers.Roderick wouldn't close the gates. Finally, we have confirmation, verbal confirmation from Roderick about who his father was.

Side note: Dupin has a husband, how progressive. I'm down for it. We love it when the elderly LGBTQ+ community is acknowledged.

Two weeks ago:

Then we switch to a trial against Fortunato Pharmaceuticals and the Usher "crime" family, according to Dupin's opening statement. As someone who did pretty damn well in both evidence and criminal law, I'm side-eyeing this opening statement. Let me tell you, law school ruins your ability to suspend disbelief for so many court things in television and movies. Also Fortunato? After The Cask of Amontillado? That's the short story I had to read in high school, and I enjoyed it enough. It does, however, tie in well if the company is also destroyed, locked away, hidden from society, whatever you want to call it to tie into the ending of Cask.

I will say this, Roderick fathered gorgeous children nonstop. Every one of these actors is stunning. I found it odd that the camera panned to Lenore and her mother(?) for a close up when Dupin talks about corruption ut when panned out Lenore is hidden from the view of the audience. At this point, I had not drawn any conclusions as to why that is. I kept fixating on "The Pale Girl," who we later find out is Juno, Roderick's newest wife. Let me tell you, that revelation was crazy because I thought she was Madeline's sole daughter who idolized Dita Von Teese and Dolores Umbridge in the worst hybridization of ways, but Ruth Codd's facial expressions are stunning. I'm visibly uncomfortable when I look at her, and that's fantastic. She's showing me so much with her body language, I can't stand how good she is. Anyhow, I love her. I will be following more of her.

Then, Dupin drops the bomb. The bomb. The thing that makes Madeline's face go from quiet amusement to concern. The statement that makes every Usher child react. There's an informant in the midst. And it is one of them.

Pym, in my opinion, correctly calls out the failure to disclose the identity of this informant. When counsel approaches the bench, this opening statement about the family witness is struck from the record, but it does what Dupin intends it to do. It rattles the whole family. Pym probably makes so much damn money off of these people.

Roderick calls a family dinner for everyone and their spouses. Then we cut to introductions of each family member. Frederick turns out to be the father of Lenore, and his wife's name is Morrie, I think? I had to check Wikipedia for this, but her name is Morella, she's a former actress and model, and now she makes hyper-realistic cakes. Freddie gives me Dan Levy vibes. He blames Perrie, who I assume is Prospero. Lenore calls out that the informant would "have to be pretty brave, I guess" and asks if the charges are true. At this point, there is a massive, MASSIVe red flag waving in my head. Is Lenore the informant? Or is she the red herring? It gets more juicy when she suggests that "if someone really broke the law, shouldn't they be punished?" The red flag...of justice? Morrie casually warns that breaking away from family rank would get you written out of the will, highlighting the difference in values between Lenore and the rest of the family.

Then we cut to Tamerlane and her husband, Bill T. Wilson. (Very cute reference to a short story Poe wrote called William Wilson.) She also says her money on the informant is "one of the bastards." All this does it solidify her and Freddie as the two children Roderick had "in wedlock." Bill suggests the informant is Freddie, and Tamerlane pushes back. She muses that it might be Perry, Bill suggests Juno, her "new stepmom." Tamerlane bristles at this, but also drops that Juno doesn't "know anything." If she really is so new to the family she doesn't know its secrets, then she's the most innocent one there and is also the only one who took the charges against the family seriously enough to not be able to hide it on her face. Tamerlane mentions Goldbug, a short story I have not read, and Tamerlane drops an important tidbit: She doesn't care about the world, she cares about what her dad thinks." I had to google who tf Blippi is for this conversation. Also, they do threesomes? Also, TEST MONKEYS?

Yep. We're going to have the true Rue Morgue murder. We are now introduced to Victorine. And her surgical partner/life partner. They have a successful surgery of some sort on a test monkey. Post-op the women are seen talking about struggling to get peer review because of nightshade. Whatever this nightshade powder Roderick sent over, it's working, but it is the same stuff that paralyzes South American tourists who get it blown in their face. Spooky. Victorine jokes about keeping away from Perry. That boy does not have anyone on his side for this. He's painted as young, immature, and apparently a date rapist so far. However, Victorine points the finger at Camille!

We jump to Leo, apparently on the phone with his boyfriend Julius. He convinces Julius to not come to the family dinner, but he finds out that Julius is on his way up while he's getting head from a woman. So Leo is a bisexual and he's a cheater. Love that about him. Has a black cat named Pluto.

We shift to Camille, apparently the HBIC of the family's PR. She tosses out orders to her drab little assistants hastily scribbling down notes. Her comment about Victorine is not unnoticed, but Camille puts aside her own feelings about her sister in order to push ahead of the PR disaster of the trial. When asked about Juno, Camille has a lot more frustration there for the massive age gap and lack of, idk, decorum about Juno? I'm intrigued as to what "Scraped her off the emergency room floor" means but I'm sure I will find out. Her main priority is sniffing out the informant, she also points to Perry but also claims she doesn't think he's clever enough to talk to the Feds without it ending up on Tiktok. Ouch. Give Perry a damn break. Or don't. He sounds awful. They all certainly seem awful. Like Tamerlane, Camille seems eager to please her father, emphasizing that she wants to be the one who finds the informant to deliver their head to her father.

Juno speaks! and she's Irish. I love that. Apparently she moderated an NA meeting once, so she's either a drug addict or a drug addict seriously affected her family. Tie-in to the Fortunato company? Possible motive? Possible mole? We shall wait and see. I love the comedy Roderick drops in about how the children have to love Juno because the only thing stronger than love is their fear of getting written out of the will.

Then the family doctor arrives with private news on Roderick should hear...My money is either terminal cancer or a slow poisoning. Either way, we don't know what's up before- Surprise! Prospero, aka Perrie shows up.

We see him pour Glenfiddich '96 and I find out he and I are the same age...He pitches a nightclub to Roderick and Madeline who magically shows up and Juno flicks off to Godzilla-knows-where. Apparently he had a full year to come up with a proposal for his first business venture and his idea for a super exclusive nightclub gets shut down mercilessly because the Ushers are about "changing the fucking world." Perrie walks away with his tail between his legs and Madeline checks in with Roderick before heading off to the dining room. She claims when the paperwork is passed out, she'll be able to tell. Apparently she can always tell when someone is...lying? We shall see.

Briefly, we see Carla Gugino put down a drink and say "For the road" which clearly freaks Roderick out because how did this strange woman show up in his mansion's bar?

Cut to dinner, Morrie presents a textbook and Starbucks and we have an Is It Cake momen to light applause from everyone. I can't quite tell if he's being sarcastic about him marrying Morrie, but Freddie moves on to suck up to Roerick by complimenting Juno.

Madeline passes out a new and improved NDA (thank you Pym for your tireless work, I hope you are paid handsomely for this) including details about forfeiture of inheritance, etc regarding being the informant and the consequences that ensue. Victorine's partner Alessandra tries to not sign it until her own lawyer looks it over but one look from the family makes her change her mind.

The siblings bicker before Madeline shuts it down, explains the importance of Fortunato and threatens the informant with certain death. I know it is meant to be serious but I admit I had a little giggle. Then Roderick says "Fifty million dollars." The twins have placed a bounty on the unknown informant's head, effectively pitting the family against each other.

In the present, Roderick laments that this was the last time he saw all of them together, and the last time he saw some of them alive. He claims responsibility for the deaths of all of his children. Even though Dupin claims that these bizarre deaths are all verified to not be linked, Roderick doubles down, and then finally brings up "a woman." Now things are getting juicy. Carla Gugino appears in a variety of lighting and with different hair, so that suggests we'll see here several times throughout the show.

We cut now to New Year's Eve, 1979 heading into 1980. The twins are dressed as Gatbsy and Daisy, I gag a little at the incestual implications even though I knew they were coming, and sit back and watch how the twins first meet the woman, now known as Verna. Apparently they enter a bar hoping for enough people to be around to provide them with an alibi. Whatever they came from at Fortunato Pharmaceuticals, they need witnesses. We see again that Madeline is the mastermind behind every plan. A conversation about resolutions with Verna ensues.

We pan to the present. Dupin talks about some other event that happens that night. Verna predicts their lives will take a complete change of course on that night. Roderick again tells Dupin that every piece of this story is important. We flash back to the funeral. Roderick sees the faceless woman in the back, but then the next time he looks back, he sees the mangled corpses of his six children. When he exits the church, he sees a creepy court jester, like a malevolent joker from the playing card, briefly waiting for him in the car. He starts, notices his nose is bleeding, and then suddenly falls backward. Madeline and Pym rush to him, but arthur stares ahead to *gasp* a raven, and he says "It's time. It's time. It's time." How mysterious.

The episode ends and I finally look ahead to all the episode names like I should have done before. Each episode is based off of a different Poe story, and probably relates to the cause of death for each character. I haven't read some of them, but I feel like I will before I start each next episode. Or I will let myself be surprised. We shall see. Anyhow, I have spent all morning typing this. If you've read this far, I salute you. I'm tired, but also satisfied.

-------

"The last thing my mother did in this life was kill a powerful man. And we carried that secret with us and we loved her all the more."

[incorrectmarvelquotesss]

— birthday gift —

Warnings: just a bunch of fluff

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky wants to treat his girl on her birthday.

Word Count: ~1.4k

A/N: Something I was working on for my birthday! I'm a few days late for my own birthday present (haha), but here it is!

Bucky woke up hours before you did, the sun barely even touching the sky on the horizon at five in the morning. He basked in your warmth for a few minutes, pressing his nose into your neck to breathe in your unique scent with a hint of your perfume from the day before. He was glad that you were working late last night, finishing and passing out just before midnight, because he was able to escape your arms without waking you up in the process—he hate-loved you being a light sleeper.

You could sense the change in your pillow without his arm underneath it. Your eyebrows had furrowed and a slight pout appeared on your lips as you squirmed to find another perfect spot. You found one rather quickly, earning an amused huff when Bucky noticed you were snuggled up against his pillow. He didn’t want to leave you alone in your shared bed, but he decided it was better this way. 

He used the bathroom, dressing in his favourite hoodie and some jeans. He wrote out a quick note with some lame excuse that he had made up on the spot of grocery shopping, but he hoped to be back before you had the chance to read that note. He glanced up at your sleeping figure as he placed the note on your night table and grinned softly when he caught the hint of a smile on your sleeping face. He turned then, closing your bedroom door without any noise with one last glance at your sleeping figure. 

He made sure to lock the door to the two story house you both had made a home out of, checking it twice and checking if the cameras were on on his phone even more times. He kept his phone in his hand as he walked down the street before relaxing as he realised you would laugh at him with how tense he was about leaving you to go to the corner plaza. You would laugh at him later when he would accidentally tell you about it. 

Ping! Ping-Ping!

He checked his phone right away, recognizing the tone from the camera app—it meant that there was movement somewhere around his home. He checked each camera carefully, sighing and letting out a low chuckle as he saw Alpine climb the tree to jump on the roof and trot on the rooftops again. He hated that cat when you had first brought her into your home in a box, defending yourself as you washed her up and told him that she was abandoned. How you knew she was a she, he’ll never know—you only said you had a feeling and it always turned out right. 

“Hey, Mr. Lee,” Bucky greeted Stan, the old florist who ran the shop after his wife died. Stan looked at him with an annoyed expression, though Bucky could see right through it and knew that he was happy to see him.

“Look, Barnes,” Stan started, side-eyeing Bucky as he sorted out an order, “if you’re here for Y/N’s flowers, you know where they are. Don’t bother asking me.” With that Stan took the bouquet he was working on to the back, leaving Bucky to grin at the closed door before making his way to where your favourite flowers were. 

This time, though, he mixed some of his own favourites that looked good with your favourites. Most of them did and he felt his heart skip a beat when he realised that the two of you worked out. Your cheery demeanour and his grumpy exterior. He was able to be himself in front of you—cry after a harsh mission, be angry about his past, cuddle with you whenever, kiss you when he wants to. He was thankful for you and today was a great day to show you how much he loved you. 

“Are you still here, Barnes?” Stan called into the shop, seeing Bucky emerge from an aisle and hold up his little clutter of flowers. Stan shook his head, but he couldn’t keep his lips from curling into a smile. “That’s horrible mixing.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Bucky retorted with no actual bite. “She’ll love it.”

“She will. She loves you too much to care about the mess of flowers you have there.” Stan nodded and let Bucky pay up, warning him that he would raise the price if Bucky kept purchasing all of his flowers. Bucky had laughed and only let Stan joke around before he left to grab some groceries. He just needed a few ingredients to make your favourite for dinner. Once Bucky was done with that part of his surprise, he left to grab some tea and donuts for your breakfast. 

It had only been an hour when he got back to you. Bucky assumed that you were still asleep when he barged in with a curious Alpine in tow. He dropped the groceries on the island, putting some things away in the fridge that would spoil if he didn’t, and made his way to your shared bedroom. He smiled when he saw the sight in front of him; you were curled up with his pillow clutched to your chest as if it was him and the blanket was now around your waist, revealing his shirt that you wore to bed. 

He swore he had never seen a sight more prettier. 

He pulled his hoodie over his head when the room felt warmer, placing it on the foot of the bed. He wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath it since he ran hotter than average human beings and rarely wore a shirt at home. Plus, he knew you liked the view more than you let on. He could hear your steady heart beat in the room mixing in with his own. He tried to regulate his breathing so that his heartbeat matched yours, but it was always a mili-second off. He huffed and focused on the task at hand. 

He lowered himself slowly beside you, slightly moving so that he was hovering over you. He smirked at the way your body shifted to be closer to him, reacting to his body heat immediately. He lowered his head, grazing his lips over your pulse point just enough for you to sigh and start stirring awake, moving between a haze of dreams and reality. He moved down your neck, kissing your skin sweetly before noticing that you had moved your neck a bit out, exposing more to him. He glanced up as he kissed your jaw, seeing a hint of a smile on your lips. 

“Bucky,” you moaned, shifting to lay on your back. Bucky had to move slightly so that he wasn’t squishing you, but continued to kiss your neck and occasionally leave a bite mark that he soothed with his tongue. You moaned and squirmed this time, opening your eyes as your hand came to rest on your stomach. Bucky grinned at you. 

“Let me sleep,” you whined, a cute little pout on your lips. “I want to sleep in before—” 

“Do you even know what day it is?” Bucky saw your eyes flicker to the side, a show that you really had no idea what day it was, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“I—I’ve been busy,” you defended, getting up slightly and making Bucky move to sit up as well. “I—I mean—come on. It’s not our anniversary, is it? It’s not March so it’s not your birthday.” You had started panicking and Bucky picked up on it really quickly. 

“Not my birthday or our anniversary, doll,” he said, holding your hands to try and reduce your panic. He came close to you, nudging your nose with his before whispering, “Happy birthday.” He kissed you slowly, pouring every single amount of love that he held for you into it. His hand slid down to your stomach, cherishing the curve that showed the life you both had created together. 

A perfect mix of the two of you he hoped. 

“Hope you didn’t plan to go out,” you joked, hands coming around his shoulders and down his chest to trace his scars and then his abs. He surged forward capturing you in a heated kiss. 

“Of course not,” he groaned as he pulled away and saw you smile softly at him. 

“And no gifts, right?” 

“Of course not.” He grinned.

[raina-at]

Year in fic review 2023

Total number of completed stories: 4, I finished Spare Parts in 2022, just finished posting in 2023.

Total word count: About 50 k (published, god knows how many words of unfinished WIPS and abandoned one-shots)

Fandoms written in: BBC Sherlock, I'm a one-trick pony these days ;-)

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected?

Hm, I suppose less? And not the things I expected. I started writing a lot of long, plotty fics but apparently, it wasn't the year for long and plotty fics. I suppose I didn't have the brain space for long and plotty.

What’s your own favorite story of the year?

Probably Nothing Gold Can Stay, because I had this idea months and months ago, of John having a bit of a crisis before his wedding. I had this one piece of a core of a fic, the whole nucleus where John tells Sherlock nobody ever sticks with him, ever. And then I had three different fragments of fics trying to make it work, and every one had something amazing in it, but I just couldn't make it gel. And then I thought of the famous The thing you wanted to say, say it now, and the scene on the bench in TSOT, and bam, I had a fic. It came out in stops and starts of 200-word chunks, while John laboured with whether and how and when to trust enough, to have faith enough to actually say how he feels. I'm really proud of how it came out in the end, and I'm very happy you guys responded to it the way you did.

Did you take any writing risks this year?

I don't know about risks, but I wrote 31 ficlets in pretty much a month, which came out to 26000 words, and that was no mean feat. And I actually still like most of them. Gave me a bit of writers' burn-out, I won't lie, but what a ride!

Do you have any fanfic goals for the new year?

I want to finish my Christmas fic. I would like to re-visit the Nothing Gold boys because I think there's meat on these bones and I always wanted to do a series of shorter fics that hang together. So maybe I can do something with that. But last year was so stressful at work and I don't see this year going any better (we have three big conferences this summer, so it's probably going to be So Much Worse). So, I'll be grateful for what I can accomplish, and accept that it might not be everything I want.

Most popular story of the year?

Nothing Gold Can Stay for sure.

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion:

Hm, I got a lot of lovely feedback this year, so I generally feel loved and appreciated by fandom. My May ficlets especially got a lot of responses here on tumblr, and I loved that dynamic interchange between writing and reading and commeting, especially with the others who did the challenge.

If I had to pick one underappreciated story, my Spare Parts 'verse January 29th fic The Stars Walk Backward didn't get a lot of eyeballs, but it's understandable given that it's a one-shot in a 'verse that not that many people are famliar with in the first place. It's a bit of a stepchild of a 'verse, but I love it, and I love this story for its unabashed sentimentality. It's very sweet and very calm and has a lot of 'we're back together and I don't want to fuck this up again' energy. I love re-visiting this fic if I need a quick pick-me-up, so. You know.

Most fun story to write:

Most of the ficlets were fun to write, and Tipping Point was somehow the opposite of Nothing Gold Can Stay in that it came out in a big rush over four days, like a writing tsunami. But my Christmas fic is also super fun to write, I just hope I can sustain the fun and actually finish it.

Most unintentionally telling story:

Probably Nothing Gold Can Stay, I suppose. Grief is really complicated, and it's difficult to come to terms with the fact that you can sort of stumble into pockets of it, and that you sometimes grieve things that are technically still there but have changed a lot. Essentially, the story is about a John who has to stop running away from his grief and turn around and face it, and a Sherlock who sees that if he wants to truly get John back, he has to face it with him.

Biggest disappointment:

With myself for being unable to finish the many, many, many fics I've stared but didn't remotely finish. But also gracious to myself for letting life happen.

Biggest surprise:

Not surprise but gratitude for the love and support of this fandom. You guys are awesome. I'm so grateful whenever someone tells me that something I wrote made them Feel Something(TM). It's the greatest compliment a writer can receive, and I feel truly blessed that I heard this a fair bit this year. I write because it makes me happy, and if people reading my fics experience something similar, then that makes me even happier. So thank you, fandom.

[pttucker]

Aaaand we're done! \o/

Well... "done" in one sense of the word since I just did a very quick search and apparently there's like another 140 chapters of side stories and counting. Possibly post-epilogue stuff??? Didn't look too closely since I don't want too many spoilers if I can avoid it. I already saw one vague spoiler relating to 49% Dokja's side story. 😢😢😢

Though at least now with the main novel+epilogues finished all of the mysteries have been wrapped up (as far as I can remember).

I guess I'm still curious about the Library, but even if that's never touched upon in any side story chapters, I think I kinda get it with my theories and how he broke up into many, many different Dokjas and/or was two different Oldest Dreams?

Oh, and the stuff with Dokja & 1863's Sooyoung's blurry faces, I would have liked to have seen that resolved. There were mentions of Dokja slowly getting less blurry that were kinda glossed over but nothing concrete ever popped up for why his face was blurry or if/when it fully stopped being blurry? Unless I just missed some subtle thing?? Like I guess the epilogue did mention that Sooyoung had fun writing in stuff about him being the Ugly King but I don't think she made him ugly, that was just her memories of him?? Either way, poor Dokja. 😭

idk maybe I'm the only one obsessed with things like that. (I literally eventually started a separate section in my ORV Scrivener notes just for all the times Dokja's looks are mentioned in any way.) So maybe it just wasn't deemed important to "resolve"? Or, again, it was but I totally missed it.

Or maybe there's still something about the Library and his looks (and other mysteries I may not be currently remembering) in the additional 140+ chapters out there?

Unfortunately, English translations of Chapters 552+ don't all seem to be in one place, or at least I wasn't able to quickly find them in my first search. I'll keep looking, though. Might just have to cobble together the chapters one by one from various sources. If anyone happens to know where I could possibly find them...

Though I'm honestly not certain if I want to immediately jump into them or if I want to give it a moment to breathe. I actually am a little bit disappointed that I jumped right into the 40+ chapter epilogues right after finishing the main story since I feel like it stole some of the impact from him finding his two separate ■■.

Even if I was really happy to see how they continued living on in the system-less world and how Dokja felt after losing all of his companions to be Oldest Dream. Seriously you never get to see those sort of things after the "happy" ending.

And I did love seeing how it all tied back together with Sooyoung being the author and ORV itself being Dokja's story (which Sooyoung also wrote!) which in turn is our story and getting to see Secretive Plotter and the 999ths again and poor Joonghyuk just not knowing what to do with himself after losing his purpose as a protagonist and him and Sooyoung wanting to save their precious Dokja more than anything and both of them coming to understand Dokja better and so on and so forth.

But if nothing else, I do really want to finally read some fanfiction and otherwise engage with fandom now that the big mysteries are solved. And if I can make one final prediction it's going to be that the top fanfic is some kind of modern, no powers gamer AU or something. Because that's just how these fandoms seem to go. 😂

Anyway, I think it should be obvious from my many, many ORV posts but I really enjoyed the novel! I am very happy that so many things were so well foreshadowed, so much was so carefully planned, so many loose ends were tied up in a very satisfying manner, etc. It's very impressive for such a long, looooong story. I mean, just the fact that you could get inklings that something was up with Secretive Plotter before we even hit Chapter 100 yet not have the reveal come until much later is impressive just on its own.

I guess if I had one complaint it'd be that I didn't quite vibe with the whole "multiple walls to open the Final Wall" thing. Like, I totally was into the idea of Dokja's Fourth Wall being the largest fragment, and I actually thought that Jang Hayoung's wall was pretty clever since it's all about commenting/texting others when Jan Hayoung was created due to Dokja's comments.

But I'm not quite so into the Wall of Samsara and Wall That Divides Good and Evil. Like, I do get how they relate to the story, what with Dokja literally reincarnating into multiple worlds himself and the fact that a lot of Dokja's main theme was that he didn't nicely fit into a box of good or evil. I mean, his literal Modifiers are Demon King of Salvation and Watcher of Light and Darkness. Not to mention, Dokja went through a ton of the novel saying that just because they were evil in one turn doesn't mean they're evil in the next and vice versa, as well as the fact that the had companions on both sides of the spectrum.

So I'm not saying that they just came out of nowhere, but personally I find something to be a little off with them when compared to the other two walls? idk these are just my initial thoughts and I might feel completely different once I re-read the novel and can better appreciate things.

Which, speaking of, I'm debating with myself if I want to do the truly ridiculous thing and start this entire novel over right from the beginning in true Dokja fashion or if I want to be good and maybe give some other universe some love. I was looking at The World After The Fall but...uh...

Not to say that things with tiny fandoms aren't also good!!!

But it does make me kinda side-eye it a little and wonder if I shouldn't just read Solo Leveling...

...or read whatever side stories I can find, aaaaaalllllll the fanfic, and then read ORV all over again. 😂

We'll see.

FYI when I do start reacting to the side stories I think I'll use the tag "orv side story" if anyone wants to block it preemptively to avoid spoilers.

[captainlunaxmen]

That I do.

Charlie Wealsey x reader

This is a repost since the old blog doesn't work anymore. 🥰

Also, if you want to be tagged in future Charlie's stories, let me know❤️

I wrote a sort of sequel, too.

"You got more?" I ask Charlie as I trace the line of the tattoos on his chest with my finger as we cuddle.

"Uh?" He asks, half-dozen off to sleep.

After months and months of not being able to see each other we finally got some time for ourselves.

"You got more of these in these months?" I repeat, pointing at his quidditch inspired tattoo on his chest.

"Oh! Yes! Here, let me show you" he quickly stand up turning the lights on. Excited like a kid showing his new toy.

I laugh at his excitement, he looks so sweet, I don't know how he manages to make me fall in love with him more and more each time.

"Okay, here. This is the last one I got... well it's just the lines for now, I'll go back and do the rest in a week or so." He proudly show me his arm "it's gonna be for my family, you know, here some knitted scarfs for mom... here a tool box for dad... and yeah everyone else"

"That's really sweet, love" I tell him, looking at the lines of all the drawing.. there's even a small lightning for Harry.

He then turns around, more excited than ever.

"Oh my god!" I exclaim, admiring the wings tattooed on his muscular back.

"I got this one after our last encounter" he explains.

"That's amazing" that's all I can say, too speechless to say more.

I reach out to touch it, carefully following the lines of the wings.

He turns back around and kisses me.

"You like them?" He asks after the kiss.

"Like? Charlie.. they're amazing" I tell him.

"Really?" His eyes literally bright for joy.

"Really!" I playfully roll my eyes. "Hot too"

"Oohh that's why you like them?" He asks teasingly.

"Oh for sure" I laugh.

"Wanna come with me when I get this finished?" He asks, nodding to the incomplete tattoo on his arm.

"Sure"

"Maybe you'll get one too? How does that sound, my love?"

"Maybe" I pull him in for a quick kiss, but he chases me as soon as I pull away making us fall back on the bed, with him on top of me kissing all over my face making me giggle.

"Okay, okay, big boy. We gotta sleep.. we have to be up early so we can arrive to your parents on time.. and not late as always" I tell him, making him pull away to look at me with a pout.

"They're used to it... what's one more time?" He gets back at kissing my face.

"You're terrible" I say defeated.

"You love me" he mutters between kisses.

"That I do, love. That I do"

[kpopimaginings]

Stray Kids Reaction (Hyung Line) - Finding you after/during an attempt

TRIGGER WARNING: Do not read any further if you may be triggered by stories about suicide, mental health, depression, anxiety. (If there are any TW tags that you have blocked and I haven’t used, tell me! I will add them)

I would also like to make it clear that in none of scenarios is what happens actually because of the members. It is written from their perspectives where they may blame themselves, but that is not how depression normally works.

A/N: Me and my friend wrote this as a sort of therapy for ourselves. I had a panic attack and was then crying to which they responded ‘What would Bang Chan do if he saw you like this?’ (guess who my bias is) and from there things spiralled!

Hyung line: Part 1 - Part 2

Maknae line: Part 1 - Part 2

There will be a part two (which could also stand alone) of the super fluff that happens when he can properly talk to you/take care of you after.

Bang Chan

Chan was in his studio getting ready to go live for his Stays when he noticed his phone ping.

Will you be long? read the text you had sent.

He was quick to respond, I'll be as quick as I can for you 😘

With Chan's busy idol schedule it felt like you two hadn't seen each other in ages and were definitely due a catch up.

Sticking his phone on silent so it wouldn't interrupt his stream he turned on his camera.

Things were going as normal, him happily joking around with Stay and them recommending songs for each other, when about halfway through Chan noticed a worrying comment from one of the fans watching. He was quick to pick up on it and check in, asking if they were ok and ending up hosting an impromptu group therapy session for himself and Stay.

It wasn't until he had finished hugging Stay goodbye that he realised just how long he had actually been live for. His next thought was of you and the text you had sent, prompting him to pull out his phone and give you a call. A call that went unanswered.

He quickly dashed about gathering everything he needed to head to yours, trying you again as he left the door. Again, there was no response. He could feel himself starting to panic now. You were the one who had initiated things before his live, so he really didn't think you would have plans, but why else wouldn't you be answering? As he drove over, he kept trying to convince himself you were either asleep or mad at him for over running his live. Surely, he was going to arrive to your pouty face complaining that it had taken him so long to get to you. Right?

Fumbling with the key as he tried to slot it into the lock on your door he cursed himself under his breath.

"She'll be fine," he muttered. "You're overreacting. She'll be fine." He repeated the last sentence as a mantra in his mind as if saying it enough times would make it true.

Once he'd finally gained enough physical control to open your door, he rushed in, calling out your name as he tripped over the step of your threshold.

Silence.

"Baby?" he called out reaching the stairs. "I'm sorry I was late. I know I'm a terrible boyfriend, please don't give me the silent treatment."

It was suspiciously dark upstairs, the only light coming from underneath the bathroom door. Without thinking, he swung open the door.

"Baby, why-" Bang Chan cut himself off as he noticed the half-consumed pill bottle in your hand, realising what must have happened.

You froze, staring at your boyfriend's terrified expression. Realisation spread across your face as Bang Chan's presence pulled you back to reality. As tears started to pool in your eyes, you tried to form the words for an apology.

Before you can actually say anything, Chan is right beside you, knocking the remaining pills from your hand to clatter on the tiled floor.

In one swift movement, one arm is around your shoulders, causing you to hunch over as he proceeded to jam the fingers of his other hand into your mouth and down your throat, forcing you to bring up the pills you had tried to overdose on. Once he felt you had brought up enough, he sunk to the floor with you in his arms.

He continued to hold you close with one arm while pulling out his phone to call for an ambulance. As you sat in the bathroom together waiting for the ambulance to arrive, his grip on you only tightened. With one hand running through your hair and the other keeping you cradled into his chest he muttered apologies and affirmations of love to you over and over, barely audible over the tears you were now both shedding.

If only he could turn back time and finish that damn live sooner. You needed him, he wasn't there for you, and he nearly lost you.

Lee Know

Lee Know had recently got a copy of your key and was super excited to get to use it and surprise you with a visit. It had been a while since the two of you had properly spent time together, so he was looking forward to spending a calm evening in with you between his hectic idol schedule.

Happy with how easily he got through your front door, he neatly left his shoes in the entryway before venturing through to the living room.

"Surprise," he called as he approached. "Y/N?" he added when there was no response. "It's your wonderful, amazing boyfriend."

Swinging the door open, the wide smile was wiped from his face in an instant.

Before he had consciously registered the scene in front of him, he was beside you, ripping a hole in the plastic bag covering your face. Once you were free of the obstruction, he leant in close to check if you were breathing. When there was no sign of life, he wasted no time in moving you into the correct position for CPR, thanking God that he had paid attention to all those first aid videos Chan was always getting him to watch. Whipping his phone out, he called 112 leaving it beside him on speaker as he started chest compressions.

As the operator answered all they heard was Lee Know counting to himself.

"6, 7, 8," he continued, not realising the call had been answered.

"112, what's the nature of your emergency?" the voice at the other end asked.

Surprising himself with how calmly he responded he gave your address, informing them that you were not breathing when he found you.

"Ok, there's an ambulance 5 minutes from your location," the equally calm operator informed him, before praising him and helping him count through the compressions.

Once they got to 30, he was instructed to stop, tilt your head back and pinch your nose as he administered 2 rescue breaths. However, he barely registered the instructions, watching for your chest to rise with each of his breaths.

Returning to chest compressions, he'd counted as far as five when a crack from your side made him wince, his heart dropping as he forced himself to keep counting.

"It's ok," came a reassuring voice from the phone lying beside you. "Good compressions can do that, you're doing an amazing job for them. Keep it up, the ambulance is 3 minutes out."

Time slipped away from him as he continued counting out 30 compressions followed by two rescue breaths repeatedly. His voice fading out as he tired, putting all of his energy towards saving you.

A sudden banging at the front door momentarily pulled his undivided attention from you. "Shibal," he muttered, remembering that the door will have locked itself behind him.

"The ambulance has arrived," the operator spoke. "Is there someone who can open the door?"

"Just me," he lamented. "Ah, the spare key! It's in the hanging basket. Please hurry.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered to you as regret over the wasted time filled his eyes with tears. Lee Know could tell he was at the end of his tether as everything caught up to him, both the physical exertion of administering CPR and the mental trauma of finding the love of his life in this position.

Continued praise and assurance came through the phone until the paramedics were beside him. One knelt immediately, moving their hands towards your chest.

"Great job, I've got it from here," they assured your exhausted boyfriend.

It took a gentle tap from the paramedic to snap Lee Know out of his focussed state, at which point he slumped backwards, his eyes never leaving you. Panting for breath, he could only watch helplessly as an oxygen mask was placed over your face and the other paramedic began attaching the defibrillator to your chest.

No longer able to actively help you, the stress and panic caught up to him and the tears began to pour from Lee Know's eyes. All he could do now was sit and pray for the moment the machine would declare a stable heartbeat. Terrified he hadn't done enough to save you.

(A/N: In case you ever need to use it, this was written by two trained First Aiders, the CPR technique here is what First Aid and Paramedics here in the UK are taught. If you don’t want to administer rescue breaths, you can just do compressions, but chance of survival is higher with the breaths.)

Changbin

​It had been the most perfect day. When Changbin had told you he was going to cheer you up he had really meant it. Being aware of your diagnosis, and having sensed a recent dip in your mood, he had pulled out all the stops to give you at least one day's respite from the relentless torment you brain was putting you through.

The perfection began with a ring of your doorbell. Pulling the door open, you were greeted by your boyfriend's pouty smile shining through a bunch of your favourite flowers.

"Huh, I was expecting my boyfriend, but all I see is some floating flowers."

Binnie flushed, dropping the aegyo slightly as he glanced down at your compliment before confidently puffing out his chest.

"Suprise, he's right here," he said, lowering the flowers as he pecked your cheek. "You look even more beautiful than this measly bunch though."

It was your turn to be flustered now, taking the opportunity to hide by putting on your shoes.

"Where are we going then?" you say in an attempt to change the subject.

"Everywhere," Changbin announced with a cheeky grin.

You sighed and rolled your eyes, before quickly grabbing the flowers from him and running to pop them in water.

"You're really not going to tell me?" you called out as he waited for you by the door.

"You'll see when we get there."

"Stating the obvious, but ok," you sassed as you returned to him.

"Ready?" he asked, offering you his arm.

"Of course," you replied, hooking your arm through his.

As the two of ventured out, you remembered thinking to yourself that by now you really should have known better than to underestimate your boyfriend. When he said you were going everywhere he really meant it. You started at the aquarium, the pair of you naming some of the fish and inventing little sitcom-esque scenarios for them.

From there he led you to the bubble tea place you'd been talking about visiting for ages. Then round the corner to your favourite food stall, where you delighted in feeding each other ssambap.

"Yah," he shouted at you when you began to close a meatless wrap.

"What?" you asked, innocently.

"Surely I've not fallen in love with someone as cruel as Han!"

You froze for a moment. "Fallen in love?"

"I thought you knew that," he replied. "I don't plan elaborate dates for just anyone."

You couldn't help but smile at his words, before adding some meat to the food parcel in your hands and feeding it to your boyfriend.

He then took you shopping, eventually confiscating your card when you tried to pay for your own things one too many times. Complaining that all he wanted to do was treat his partner and you were making it much harder than it should be. You could tell he was so proud to be able buy whatever you wanted so you conceded, starting to deliberately pick up cheaper items. Until he led you to a very expensive jewellery store.

"Binnie, don't waste your money on me," you pleaded.

He stopped, turning to you and taking your face in his hands. "You are not a waste of money," he told you, carefully and deliberately.

You just nodded and allowed him to disappear for a moment, presumably to pick something out for you. When he returned, apparently empty handed, you dropped the subject and allowed him to take you home.

As you entered your house, you turned to your boyfriend.

"Thank you, Binnie," you told him, smiling a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"Hey, you ok?" he asked.

"Yeah, this was perfect, I just don't want it to end."

"Me neither," he agreed, leaning into kiss you.

You placed a hand on the back of his neck, holding him close for a moment longer, savouring the love you felt in his touch.

"See you soon," he smiled pulling away.

"I love you," you replied with a little wave slowly closing the door.

"Love you, too," Changbin replied, refusing to turn away until the door had closed completely.

Binnie was halfway back to his place when he realised his mistake. The surprise gift he bought you.

"Yah pabo," he mumbled to himself, "You forgot the highlight of the day!"

He turned around and rushed back to yours, today had to be completely perfect and, of course, he'd mess up the best part. At least it meant he'd get to see you again today. He chuckled to himself. How did he miss you already? It had only been around 10 minutes since he said goodbye, but he was overjoyed at the thought of seeing you again. Imagining how your face would light up when you saw his gift, that complete smile he hadn't seen in a while, had his heart racing.

He let himself in this time, wanting it to be a total surprise for you, but before he could call out your name, he heard a loud thud upstairs. Worried you could have tripped and hurt yourself he ran upstairs calling out for you. As he rounded the top of your stairs he could see in through your open doorway. His world stopped.

It was as your eyes met his that the regret kicked in. You began to struggle, clawing at the rope around your neck as your legs helplessly flailed around. He could see the panic in your eyes. His body then kicked into gear, running towards you. One arm wrapped around the top of your legs, supporting your waist as his free hand helped you pull the rope away from your neck.

He shifted your weight so that you would fall against your bed, cushioning the landing as much as he could with his arms around you.

"Why?" was the first thing he said. "Jagi, why?"

You couldn't answer as you simply curled up against him, sobbing into his chest. As you fell apart in his arms, he managed to pull out his phone to call an ambulance. During the wait, he couldn't stop the thoughts circling his mind.

Why? Was his love not enough? After this perfect day... Was he not enough?

Hyunjin

"Jinnie, come on, it's not going anywhere, just come home and sleep on it," you begged as your boyfriend insisted on running his routine again.

"No, I can fix this one bit."

"It doesn't need fixing, you're just being a perfectionist," you continued.

"Of course, you don't think it needs fixing," Hyunjin bit back. "It's not like you know anything about dance."

Instead of rising to his comment, you simply started to gather your things and head out.

"Jagi?" Hyunjin questioned harshly as you reached the door.

"Just fix your stupid dance if it's that important to you," you sighed, exasperated as you left the room.

"Fine, I will," he called after you, turning back to the mirror as the door slammed shut behind you.

The longer he spent practicing the more he felt his frustration ebb away. After the 5th run through, he finally felt ready for a rational conversation with you. Just as he was turning off the music he heard the door to the practice room swing open.

"Ah, jagi, I'm sorry," he said without turning.

"It's ok, yeobo, I forgive you."

Hyunjin straightened suddenly, turning to see Lee Know stood in the doorway. "I thought you were Y/N," he blushed, sighing at his hyung.

"Being a petty boyfriend again?" Lee Know teased.

Hyunjin just pouted and rolled his eyes as he finished clearing up.

"Just thought I'd make sure you weren't working yourself to death in here," the older boy commented. "Pleased you're packing up, now go apologise, pabo."

Hyunjin scoffed, shoulder checking Lee Know on the way out. "You're the only member of paboracha here," he muttered under his breath, before disappearing down the corridor.

"Update me when you've fixed things... PABO," Lee Know shouted after him.

Almost automatically Hyunjin headed to yours, knocking a few times on the front door. When there was no answer, he sighed dramatically as he bent to grab your spare key from its hiding place.

"Jagi, I'm home!" Hyunjin called out as he came through the door. "And I'm sorry," he added as adorably as he possibly could.

He carefully toed off his shoes before padding through the house in search of signs of life. When he reached the landing and heard water running in the bathroom, he wasn't at all surprised. A bath always was one of your favourite ways to relax.

"Jagi," he said softly, tapping on the door. "I know I was blunt with you back there, but I'm sorry."

He waited for a reply, but none came.

"Yah, jagi! Come on," he whined. "You don't have to shut me out. I'm apologising."

Your persistent silence had the frustration building within him again.

"I just want a conversation with you," he tried, rapping on the door again. "Yah, why are you always like this? One little thing doesn't go your way and you get so annoying."

His forehead slumped against the door as he waited for you to rise to the bait.

As time went on, he realised the only sound was of running water. He hadn't even noticed any signs of movement beyond the door. Listening closer he realised something about the water didn't sound right. Was it flowing onto the floor?

"Jagi?" he called again, more urgency in his voice now. He turned the door handle, so expecting it to be unlocked that he almost walked into it when it didn't budge.

He frantically rattled the handle some more.

"Y/N?" he called again, desperately trying to get in.

He barely felt the pain in his shoulder as he repeatedly threw his full body weight into the door while screaming out your name. With a dull thud he fell through on to the bathroom floor. As he began to fully register his surroundings, he quickly realised the water he was kneeling in did not look how he expected, it was swirled with red.

A desperate hope flashed through his mind as he prayed that you had simply fallen asleep with a bath bomb. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but to Hyunjin,  he had been frozen on that floor for hours, willing himself to look up, to reach you, to help.

Once his body began moving again, it went into autopilot, pulling you from the bathtub. His heart shattered as you both landed on the floor, your body limp on top of him. As he fumbled, grabbing for the closest towel he noticed a flutter of your eyelids, prompting him to speak.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbled through his tears. "I love you, you're not annoying. You're mine and I love you and I'm sorry," he began to ramble wrapping towels around your wrists as best he could before reaching for his phone.

It didn't take long for the ambulance to reach you, but the whole time he was waiting he continued to ramble sweet nothings, desperate that, if this was the end, the last things you heard were not going to be his harsh words. He needed you to know, you were loved.

NAVIGATION |  STRAY KIDS MASTERLIST

[blindmagdalena]

Writer Tag

thanks for the tag @venus-haze and @sehtoast 🖤 technically i have two AO3 accounts (my og one with all my supernatural fics) but i'm just gonna use my homelander/the boys one for this.

How many works do you have on AO3? 31

What's your total AO3 word count? 225k

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Bit By Bit We Fall In Love

First Time's the Charm

Say It

Eat Your Ego, Honey

Truly, Madly, Deeply

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? yes! although i didn't used to for some reason. lately my feeling is that they took the time to comment, so i always try to take the time to show appreciation for that.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? definitely A Troublesome Transition. i don't really do angst or character death all that often, but this one was cathartic to write.

What’s the fic you've written with the happiest ending? lol pretty much all of my fics have pretty happy endings. maybe Don't Fret Precious ( I'm Here ) ? it's a darker fic that definitely had the potential to be very angsty, but the reveal at the end and the devotion that these two lunatics have to one another is pretty sweet... maybe? LOL

Do you write crossovers? nah

Have you ever received hate on a fic? i got one "wtf is this" type comment on a fic on tumblr once, but i was pretty quick to block the person. i think mostly people are just surprised Homelander has the fandom he does

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? yes. very much so. pretty much any kind. i feel like i'm fairly well known for schmoopy sentimental sex and dirty talk though

Have you ever had a fic stolen? not that i know of!

Have you ever had a fic translated? yes! Hide and Seek was translated into spanish.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? sort of! All That Glitters was a fic collab with @anon-nee, for which they were absolutely instrumental in the worldbuilding and keeping me motivated to keep writing. huge shoutouts to @jethrowest and @irenadel and everyone who consistently lets me blow up their dm's with my wips and helps me when i'm struggling to put words on the page. 🖤

What's your all-time favorite ship? homelander x all these incredibly sexy oc's my friends make

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? Puppet Master. i had really big plans for this one, but unfortunately it got lost in the shuffle and i've since repurposed the ideas i had for it.

What are your writing strengths? i think my strengths are characterization and keeping the world feeling grounded/true to the source material.

What are your writing weaknesses? i have a lot of insecurities about my fics being boring or not eventful enough. a lot of the times i focus so much on interpersonal relationships, i don't think there's really enough happening in the story. i'm also bad at bringing in ensemble casts. my fics definitely focus very heavily on just the two leads.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? i tend to avoid it unless it's very simple established pet names/phrases or something. i use italics and descriptors if they're not speaking in english. if the POV character isn't meant to understand, i'll just describe how the characters are speaking to one another in that language.

What was the first fandom you wrote for? yu yu hakusho on quizilla LOL i was a HUGE weeb. also wrote for inuyasha.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to kimiko/annie..... they deserve each other......

What's your favorite fic you've written? probably Eat Your Ego, Honey. it's my first multichapter fic, and i'm DETERMINED to finish it. i really love Layla, and i'm so touched by how everyone has responded to her. oc's can be a bit of a sore spot for me, but the reception to that fic really keeps me going and makes me so, so happy. plus i just think it's some of my best writing.

No pressure tags: @xieyaohuan @socially-awkward-skeleton @hom3landr @kosmochlor @irenadel @amostimprobabledream uhhh anyone who has an AO3 okay if you wanna fill this out just say i tagged you lol

[onboardsorasora]

Does Tennis star Daniel break his wrist also? How's he getting on? Is Max devoted boyfriend we all know him to be? Love the au sm!💖

OMG Pixie! Thank you for this ask! I'm so happy you enjoy it! 💗💗💗 Originally I had no intention of Danny getting injured, there was like a vague outline of what I wanted to happen for the US Open. Then I read this lovely ask and my brain pressed delete and then I furiously wrote this. It is not edited lmao, I hope it makes sense. I'll put it under the cut, we got a little angsty too.

Part 1 | Part 16 | Part 18

Part 17

It was in the second round of the US Open when it happened. In Arthur Ashe Stadium at prime time. A freak accident they called it. 

It was the second set, Daniel was returning a volley and he…tripped. The ball boys had accounted for all the stray balls except one that had fallen from one of their hands. They couldn’t stop play in time and instead of allowing himself to fall into the teen trying to retrieve the ball; Daniel pivoted with the grace of a UFC fighter and landed on his side. Heavily.

He had thrown his arm out reflexively to catch himself but his momentum was too much and long story short he was sat in the hospital in a cast. 

“At least it’s a clean break.” Blake had said, trying to find any silver lining. Daniel stared morosely ahead as the news (which he requested be kept on) kept replaying the moment of the fall and him immediately clutching his arm to his chest in pain. They were praising his quick thinking and agility for not injuring the poor boy with a montage of him being led from centre court to a standing ovation overlayed.

His phone was going off uncontrollably, but he was ignoring it. Max had called Blake immediately after it happened; he saw it live watching from Italy. They’d had no information for him then, and Daniel wasn’t sure if Blake had been keeping him updated. He hoped he was.

Daniel stared ahead for an indeterminate amount of time. He was in shock. How could it have gone so so badly in so little time. He was the fucking world number one; something he’d dreamt about for ages. He was on his way to win the final grand slam of the season and now…

The cast felt heavy against his chest where it rested. He couldn’t breathe under the metaphorical weight of it. 

“I want Max.” Daniel croaked out, clearing his throat. He hadn’t spoken since checking into the hospital, letting Blake and Micheal do all the work. 

“He’s sending his plane to take us to Spain. Red Bull are getting us a consultation with a Dr Mir to— apparently he’s the best at this sort of injury.” Blake offered instead, still texting feverishly.

“At least this was the final of the year. I mean outside of the invitational…” Michael trailed off.

“Where’s my phone? I— Max.” Daniel motioned with his good hand jerkily, hissing when he jostled his cast. Blake caved and handed him the device which he took to immediately facetime his boyfriend. 

Max answered before the first ring even finished. His worried eyes filled the screen and Daniel offered a small smile in spite of himself.

“Hey.” Daniel whispered, because he all of a sudden felt overwhelmed. 

“Danny! How— how are you feeling?” Max seemed like he just jolted himself into stillness. Maybe he had been pacing.

“Can I see you?” Daniel bypassed answering, because he wasn’t feeling up to trying to put words to the tumult inside him. It wasn’t all good all ways, not by a long shot. 

Max hesitated, and Daniel felt bad immediately. It was a stupid question, Max had just arrived in Milan, this was a full race weekend. There would be no opportunity.

“Sorry— fuck. That was a dumb question.” Daniel mumbled. 

“Vicky says that Dr Mir is like on call for Moto GP guys— so he knows what he’s doing. Hopefully you can get surgery this week a–and  then I can meet you in Monaco after the race, maybe? You can stay at my place— I have a week before singapore— I can help take care of you?” He said it all in a rush, as if thinking if he gave Daniel a moment to consider or answer he’d have declined. 

This was new for them, they were still new. They didn’t really know how the other were when they were losing or hurt. 

“Ok– yeah.” Daniel replied because, of course. He wanted to see Max, needed to be held by his boyfriend right now. And if everyone trusted this Dr Mir, then he would too. He could probably ask Fabio about him, or something. 

Everything was a rush and a blur after that. Daniel slept most of the flight to Barcelona, he was in surgery within two days and on some amazing painkillers. He didn’t much remember getting to Moncao or arriving at Max’s but he’d woken out of sleep enough with a cat randomly on or by him that he knew he was there.

Max arrived Sunday night, his hair still smelled like champaign. It was the best smell Daniel smelt when Max leaned over to kiss him while he was propped up on the couch. It was clear that Blake gave him all the information over the phone because he didn’t ask anything, just made himself comfortable on Daniel’s good side and cuddled him closer, tracing the lines of the cast lightly with his finger. Outlining the rose he knew to be there.

Daniel leaned into him easily. It was a shit situation, but Max was here.