#we're the new face of failure

[lizelliotsoundsoff]

Not sure if anybody who reads my Atypical fanfiction "We're The New Face of Failure" follows my Tumblr, but just a short update: I've been busy with too much life and work stuff that I literally haven't been able to find time to write the chapter.

Too many bad or stressful things, one after another, happened and I've been unable to concentrate on anything more than the essential writing I need to do right now (thesis, school, work). I'm trying my best to carve out time, but it doesn't seem to be happening for me.

So sorry! If it's any consolation, the parts of the next chapter I have written are cute fluff, so at least that'll be in the docket for the people still reading.

[trans-axolotl]

one of the reasons it's really hard for a lot of intersex people when intersex topics are on the news cycle is because the public's reaction reveals how little anyone knows or cares about intersex people, including people who call themselves our allies. almost every time intersex topics are trending, the discourse surrounding them is filled with misinformation. people who only learned today what the word intersex means jump into conversations and act like an authority. endosex/dyadic/perisex people get tripped up over things that are basically intersex 101, with tons of endosex people incorrectly arguing about the definition of intersex, who "counts," DSD terminology, and so much more. i've seen multiple endosex people say today that they've been "warning intersex people" and that we should have known that transphobia would catch up with us eventually, which is an absolutely absurd thing to say given the fact that consistently over the past ten years, it has often been intersex people sounding the alarm on sex-testing policies and also the fact that many, many intersex people are also trans, and already are facing the impacts of transphobia. there is an absolute failure from the general public to take intersex identity seriously; people seem not even able to fathom that intersex people have a community, history, and our own political resources. instead, endosex people somehow seem to think they're helping by bringing up half-remembered information from their high school biology class which usually isn't even relevant at all.

and this frustrates me so fucking much. not because i want to deny the impacts of transphobic oppression--i'm a trans intersex person, trust me when i say i am intimately aware of transphobia. this frustrates me because there is no way we can achieve collective liberation if our "allies" fail to even engage with basic intersex topics and are seemingly unaware of the many forms of intersex oppression that we are already facing every fucking day. if you are not aware of compulsory dyadism, if you are not aware of interphobia, if you are not aware of the many different ways that intersex people are directly and often violently targeted--how the fuck do you think we're going to dismantle all of these systems of oppression?

if you were truly an intersex ally, you would already KNOW that this is not new, and would not be surprised--interphobia in sports has been going on for decades. you would know that we do have a community, an identity, a history--you would have already read/listened/watched to intersex resources that give you the background information you need for allyship. you would know that although there is a really distinct lack of resources and political education, that intersex people ARE developing a political understanding of ourselves and our oppression--Cripping Intersex by Celeste Orr and their framework of compulsory dyadism is one example of how we're theorizing our oppression. It's absolutely fucking wild to me how few people I've seen actually use words like "interphobia" "intersexism" "compulsory dyadism" or "intersex oppression"--endosex people are seemingly incapable of recognizing that there is already an entrenched system of oppression towards intersex people that violently reshapes our bodies, restricts our autonomy, and attempts to eradicate intersex through a variety of medical and legal means.

you cannot treat intersex people like an afterthought. not just because we're meaningful parts of your community and deserving of solidarity, but also because intersex oppression impacts everyone!!! especially trans community--trans people will not be free until intersex people are free, so much of transphobia is shaped by compulsory dyadism, the mythical sex binary, all these ideas of enforced "biological sex" that are just as fake as the gender binary.

it makes me absolutely fucking livid every time this shit happens because it becomes so abundantly clear to me how little the average endosex person knows about intersex issues and also how little the average endosex person cares about changing that. i don't know what to say to get you to care, to get you to change that, but we fucking need it to happen and i, personally, am tired of constantly being grateful when i meet an endosex person who knows the bare minimum. i think we have a right to expect better and to demand that if you're going to call yourself our ally, you actually fucking listen to us when we tell you what that means.

okay for endosex people to reblog.

[fans4wga]

26 July update from WGA's Chris Keyser

From the WGA: With SAG-AFTRA now on strike and new levels of solidarity across all Hollywood unions, we are witnessing the spectacular failure of the AMPTP’s negotiating strategy. In this video, WGA Negotiating Committee Co-Chair Chris Keyser lays out what this moment means and how we move forward. To learn more about the WGA strike, visit https://www.wgastrike.org.

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Fellow members of the WGA East and West. It's been a while since our last video and quite a bit has happened in the meantime. So on behalf of the negotiating committee and leadership, I wanted to give you an update on where we are and what the near future at least is likely to bring.

We've been walking side by side on picket lines in New York and Los Angeles for a little over 12 weeks now. Only now we're joined by thousands upon thousands of members of SAG-AFTRA who, like us, have finally had enough.

This is the endpoint and the fruit of the AMPTP’s game plan. For 11 weeks, they negotiated with everyone but us. They claimed it was just practicality, that they could only do one thing at a time, which is not normally a point of pride. But events have made clear what we knew from the start: that not only was it a strategy, it was their only strategy. Negotiate a deal with a single guild and impose that deal on every other guild and union in Hollywood, whether it addresses the needs of those unions or not, all with the implicit threat: if you want more, strike for it.

Wow. It’s their 2007-8 playbook applied to 2023 as if nothing has changed, as if the accumulation of economic insults and injuries inflicted on us over the past decade would be borne in perpetual silence, as if the giant of labor had not awakened. But it has. And you only need to look as far as the front gates of every studio in LA and New York to see the evidence.

Two unions on strike willing to exercise their power, despite the pain, to ensure their members get the contract they deserve. For us, that means addressing the relentless mistreatment of screenwriters, which has only been exacerbated by the move to streaming; the continued denial of full MBA protection to comedy variety and other appendix A writers when they work in streaming; and the self-destructive unsustainable dismantling of the process by which episodic television is made and episodic television writers are paid.

It means addressing the existential threat of AI and the insufficiency of streaming residual formulas, including the need for transparency and a success-based component. All of these will need to be addressed for there to be a deal because in this strike it is our power and not their pattern that matters, not their strategy. Their strategy has failed them. Now they're in the midst of a streaming war with each other, an admittedly difficult transition. And as they face the future, their interests and business models could not be more different from Disney to Sony to Netflix to Amazon.

We root for their success, all of them. They root for each other's failure. We are the creative ammunition through which they will succeed. They are each other's apex predators. And yet, in a singular shared dedication to denying labor, they have shackled themselves together in what increasingly seems like a mutual suicide pact, as the 2023-24 broadcast season and the 2024-25 movie schedule and its streaming shows disappear, melt away week by week.

So what does this mean? What does it mean going forward? How do you play chess against an opponent who insists on screaming checkmate at every move regardless of how the board looks and the game is going?

You stay firm, you stay resolved, because our cause is no less existential than when we started and our leverage is increasing every day. Alone we withheld our labor with the support of our union siblings and the Teamsters and IATSE and the Crafts, we were able to delay the vast majority of production. Now with SAG-AFTRA on strike, those few studio projects that remained have also shut down. And it's not just the obvious delays. If this strike drags on, it's the actors with conflicting obligations and the directors and the double-booked studio facilities and release date chaos that the companies must now also contend with. Some of their most valuable product could well be delayed for years.

Add to that, no promotion of movies or television shows and famous faces on the picket lines and social media speaking directly to their customers. For the tech companies and the mega corporations, that should be their nightmare scenario: WGA and SAG-AFTRA side by side. Our bargaining agenda may not be identical, but our cause is the same. Our army of labor, defending labor has increased 17-fold in the past two weeks alone.

Even so, even with all this wind at our backs this negotiation won't happen overnight. It's not because the negotiations themselves are so complex. Once the companies fully engage, it could go very quickly, but because their strategy of many decades has just fallen apart and they didn't see it coming, and it's going to take them a minute to regroup, 'cause the companies have things to work out internally, and saying no to labor in unison is a lot easier than saying yes. So either together or separately, as their divergent interests might suggest, they will come back to us, despite their understandable concern about how they've navigated this transition to streaming, which is on their heads and not ours; and their worries about costs and their worries about Wall Street; despite this being a season of doom and gloom, none of them are walking away from the riches of this business, and certainly not over the equitable minimum compensation to writers.

They didn't get the deal they wanted; that's fine, it happens all the time. They're not taking their ball and going home over it. And since we know they come from union families themselves, and since they've denied that “even-in-Hollywood-you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me” ugliness of threatening to starve us out and leave us homeless (which we assume they understand also means making our children homeless,) they will come back to us. Although I will say they took a long time to deny that statement, longer than I would have had it been ascribed to me.

But what does it matter? You can starve a labor force slowly or quickly. The effect is the same. It's not like day rates for comedy variety writers and endless free drafts for screenwriters in exchange for a single paid one in four-week mini-rooms isn't cruelty. It's just cruelty written in contract language instead of a press quote.

So what can we expect from the companies as all of this plays itself out? They will try to convince Wall Street that taking a strike, prolonging it unnecessarily, losing their content stream in the process—that all of that is just smart business and no reason for investor concern. We will be talking to Wall Street too, and reminding them that for all these companies, all of 'em including Netflix, the bill, the price for making nothing, will eventually come due. And Wall Street is listening already. Here's Michael Pachter, managing director of equity research at Wedbush on Yahoo Finance the other day: “I think the studios are completely wrong on this one. Content is their lifeblood. They're feeling really foolish about this."

Wall Street isn't the only one listening. We've been talking to union pension funds too about the risks the companies are taking. We talked to CalPERS, the largest public pension plan in the country, talked about the loss of programming and the cost to the industry, and we heard strong support from its board for our struggle and the promise that the companies will be hearing from them, from CalPERS, and demanding answers on behalf of its 2 million members.

To us, of course, they will continue to plead temporary poverty, but we know the drill. These companies support billions into the streaming wars and taken short-term losses these past three years, because they know that to the winner will go the spoils. We're patient, will they share that with us when the time comes? What are the chances?

Since 2017, the last time the studios negotiated with us outside of COVID, the big six companies alone have made $150 billion in profits off our work, while they slashed our pay and degraded our working conditions. Maybe if they had shared a tiny piece of that then, made $1 billion or so less, this year wouldn't seem so costly. As it is, there is no iron law that these companies are entitled to record profits every year, and it isn't some great travesty if their shareholders or their CEOs get a slightly smaller slice of the massive profits we helped create if some balance is restored.

Look, no one denies that corporations exist to make a profit and no one wants our employers to be profitable more than we do, but the singular pursuit of corporate profits to the exclusion of their social and human cost is a real problem in this country—it’s a real problem. A corporation's bottom line is not the same as the world’s, and there is nothing in our studio's bottom lines today that accounts for the quality of our lives or for our dignity, for the comfort of our retirement or the security of our families. Their numbers have no conscience, but the people who report them as victories ought to.

In their refusal to recognize that, these companies have also extracted an awful price, which is laid at their feet and for which they are responsible. Losses to the economies of New York and Los Angeles and everywhere that film and television are made, terrible losses that mount every day, thousands of people out of work; not just us, all the crews, the crafts, the janitors, the drivers, the businesses that thrive when Hollywood thrives, the restaurants, the stores—for what? For nothing. So they could avoid coming to the table to negotiate the deal they will one day give us. Measured today that is the painfully mixed legacy of our employers, weighed against every beautiful piece of work we have made with them.

And if history is a guide, they have only temporary stewardship over a kind of national trust, which is Hollywood. Our story, our sometimes conscience, our public conversation, our diversion of the worst and best of times, our greatest export, the repository of our imagination. They have some obligation to more than just their shareholders to behave accordingly.

Unfortunately, it seems big tech, mega corporations, and some of the people who run them, as the saying goes know the price of everything and the value of nothing. So they have built a business model that no longer works for human beings who cannot be paid minimum for 10 to 20 weeks a year and make a career out of that, be paid for one draft of a screenplay that demands a year of labor, be paid a few episodic fees for a show about which to take years to decide be paid a daily rate.

And now we have a first glimpse of what they offered our actor colleagues. We are not 170,000 Willy Lomans to be used and then discarded. We know what the companies believe they have the power to do. We know what they think machines can do and do without any of us. Oh yeah, we've seen the writing on the wall and it's plagiarized.

The thing is this: the difference between what you CAN do and what you SHOULD do is the greatest single difference in the world. Knowing that is the only real protection we have against a dystopian future. And if the companies sometimes forget that, writers will do it for them.

I can't know exactly how long it will take this revolutionary moment, and you've heard again and again what is happening today has not happened in 63 years, but I know that's not always how it feels, revolutionary and defining, even though we celebrate that on picket lines together, which is the right thing to do. That's not always how it feels when you go home at night. I know how tough this is: to strike, to hold the line. I know it gets tougher every day even with SAG-AFTRA marching beside us, how hard it is to face the uncertainty of when it will end, when we'll get back to work, how we'll pay the bills. I know it's hardest for those who've just gotten started, for those for whom the world opens doors more reluctantly, battled their whole life just to get here; but hard too for those struggling to maintain their long careers, who find work tougher and tougher to come by, or those with families with children or parents to take care of.

These companies understand the cruelty of what they're doing. It's their plan to starve us just a little, to exact as much pain as they can so that we wish more for the pain to end than for the better life we dreamed up. That we're more afraid of the uncertainty of the present than the certain devastation of the future. It's societally acceptable economic torture inflicted by management on labor every day, then blamed on labor for daring to fight back, for refusing to be complicit in its own mistreatment.

Here's how I know that's not going to work. Not with us, not with the writers, because we haven't come all this way, fought to have these careers in the first place, all the adversity, and marched together for all these months, only to let it slip away on our watch—because there is no point in rushing back to jobs that may not be there in a year or two anyway. Because the business, as the companies have twisted it, is now untenable, unsurvivable for so many of us, because even success is not enough to keep going, because this guild is younger than it's ever been and more diverse. And this young diverse membership knows from hard personal experience the system is broken and that it will not be fixed unless they fix it. And those of us who came before them will not let them down, because we and the writer's guild are the beneficiaries of all those who came before us who gave up everything for us.

Like the writers of 1960, the year I was born, who struck for 22 weeks and who gave away all the TV residuals for all the movies they had ever written so that we could have a health insurance and pension plan and residuals from that date forward. $15 billion flowed to writers and their benefit plans because of that sacrifice. Because writers are brave, because now it's our turn.

So what's our job? Even as we welcome SAG-AFTRA to our side, we are still responsible for our own deal, and so we must remain focused and diligent. We must continue to march, picket signs in hand. But we should also remember this and with pride, that before there was SAG-AFTRA, before even the Teamsters and IATSE and the laborers and the electrical workers and the musicians and the plasterers came to our side, there was the writers. Alone then, we looked at the blank page and began to imagine the future. With no net but each other we typed the words, what if?

And then we took a step into the darkness and found that it was light. And then we were joined by the crews and the drivers and the actors. The actors got a bit more fanfare when they showed up, but that's okay, we wrote the script. The WGA, still small, not alone anymore after all these decades. Hollywood labor has finally linked arms and found its voice, and that voice says enough. There is no road to longterm prosperity that burns a path through your own workforce. We are not your enemies. We are not merely a cost to be borne. We are your partners and your greatest asset. And we are, as you acknowledge yourselves, irreplaceable, but by accident or design and it doesn't really matter anymore, the business you are running no longer works for those who work for you.

What is the point in continuing to deny that? Why deny it when everyone else in the business to a person tells you it's true? Do you think it's a coincidence that two unions are on strike against you for the first time since Eisenhower was president? You can't exactly accuse us of being quick on the trigger. The effect has a cause, it has a cause. And there is no profit in insisting on the answers to the past for the questions of the future.

But if you want instead to invest in something that will reap you fortunes, I have a tip. And if you are visionaries, envision a solution, not a stalemate. Because this isn't a war we're in, it's a negotiation, it's just a negotiation. There is no face-saving here for either side, because there is no winner or loser. It's just a deal. And when you come to remember that again we will be here as we have been here all along.

And at this point with 170,000 writers and actors aligned against your intransigence, that is as generous as I can be, as close to an olive branch as I can offer. But if you insist instead on the same threatening rhetoric, on saying you would rather starve us than pay us, I would remind you of this: You are fighting for a dollar, we are fighting for survival. We are fighting for our home: writing is where we live, and we will defend that home with a bravery and stamina and ferocity that you will come to understand someday, which is why you cannot break us. You cannot outlast us, you cannot.

And not just because we have the will, because we have power. Nothing in this business happens until we start to write. And we will not start to write until we are paid.

Union now. Union forever.

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Rise Characterizations Pt. 2!!

In the first part I went over my character writing notes for Raph, so we're doing Leo next!!!

Leo Character Notes

Language Habits:

First the obvious, makes a lot of puns and one-liners. Think corny super hero movies

Does poke at New Jersey often in said one-liners

Mumbles/talks to himself out loud often

Starts a Lot of his sentences with, "Okay--"

Often will add on, "haha, you're hilarious", when he's trying to tease or antagonize someone

Similarly to Raph he will also verbalize his attacks/actions, "kick and punch"/"punch and kick", "land safely"/"and he sticks the landing"

Also will verbalize when he's trying to make a portal, "come on portal", "it's portal time", "portal power jitsu"

We all know "hachi machi"

Tendency to also make noises when fighting, "yah"/"wah!"/"hah!"

That little ohohoho laugh can signify as his battle cry/excitement, or his nervousness depending on context

Same case as the above with "hoh boy"

Will stutter on words to emphasize them, "l-l-l-l-lame!"

The first to jump onto an "I told you so" or "I was right"

Mixes Spanish into his sentences, most notably "bueno", "vamanos", "hermano(s)"

Messes up science terminology, "reprogramulating"

Says "indubitably" when he's up to something (which Raph recognizes)

Out of all the brothers, he does poke fun the most

Refers to himself as "Leon"

Refers to others (mostly strangers/acquaintances) as "bub"/"bud", or "chief"

Personality:

Dramatic, Leo will always play things up 110%. Sometimes this is to cover up his insecurities, to cheer up his brothers, or to annoy said brothers. Also plays into his extreme responses to stressful situations

The fun brother, aka mikey's advocate. He takes his role seriously as the face man, who keeps things fun and cool for his brothers. It's an easy role, and he gets to make his family laugh or roll their eyes. He's. Sillay

Perceptive, this is why he knows exactly what buttons to push, but he's not a great communicator when it comes to the bigger picture. This also plays into his manipulativeness that he uses to put chaos into his family (i.e. lair games), puppet villains (i.e. Big Mama) into his motives, and change the battlefield

A closet nerd, implied to remember more jupiter jim lore than the rest of his brothers and has a ready to go impression of the reptiles of planet reptilica

Competitive to a fault, he tends to get lost in the competition when it comes to his brothers. Part of his dramatism is showing off, and he's weak to being called or associated with the term "champion". Competition is a way he gauges his self worth

Has a strong desire for the inherent admiration and trust of his peers, more than outright praise (both are wanted) unlike Donnie. This damages his communication skills because he just expects his brothers to trust him while he puts on a persona of nonchalance as protection from failure

Defensive, of himself through being snippy or sarcastic, but also defensive of his brothers' own well-being. He may be the one to poke the most fun, but he's also the one to jump to his siblings' defense out of any of the brothers. Sort of an "only I can do so and so to blank" mindset

Martyr complex, prioritizes the safety of his family over his own safety

Gets attached to people he considers family Quickly, those he doesn't consider a part of his family he has little sympathy for but once that connection is there he's already ready to use his body as a shield

Freeze response, tends to freeze up in response to danger or stress. Often shown to curl into a ball or stand silently (as opposed to his constant chatter)

Miscellaneous:

The third to unlock his mystic powers

Nicknames: "baby blue" by splinter, "nardo" by donnie

Sweats an ungodly amount

Uses spit to annoy his brothers/enemies (licking an item to claim it as his, wet willies)

Can beat box

Always chooses left in mazes or when lost

Next up will be Donnie :>

[cjrae]

Rank And Responsibility. Or: The Hairpin Scene from Jinshi's POV.

Be warned now about the consequences of choosing to do an English Lit degree - you end up doing lit crit for fun. With that in mind, let's break down the hairpin scene at the end of Covert Operations (Episode 5). Mild spoilers for Jinshi's arc are below.

While this moment does kick off the romantic subplot, with all the implications that giving Maomao the hairpin out of his own hair has, I would argue that this is not the moment Jinshi realizes he's in love with Maomao. Instead, from his point of view, this scene demonstrates how Jinshi handles failure.

Holding Power In An Open Palm

This is still very early in the story. Our first hint to Jinshi's true rank does come in this scene, but for now we know him as the manager of the Rear Palace. For the three thousand people who live and work there, for all intents and purposes, Jinshi is the highest authority they will encounter. He literally has the power of life and death over them, either directly in the case of the servants and eunuchs, or in the case of the consorts, his word to the Emperor directly can serve the same purpose. We also see Jinshi use this power early on - he's not just there to keep order, but also to test the consorts' loyalties and virtue. We never see what happens to the lower-ranked consort who attempted to invite Jinshi back to her room, but at the very least that report ensures that her already small chance of the Emperor choosing her as a potential mother of the nation is utterly cut off - and if she doesn't bear children, she will be discarded.

We also know that Jinshi will not hesitate to order corporal punishment if he views it necessary - for example, when Maomao discovers that the toxic face powder is still being used by Consort Lihua's ladies in waiting, she mentions in the aftermath that the eunuch who failed to recover the powder was flogged, while the lady in waiting who hid the powder is put in solitary confinement. These are brutal punishments - and if we consider the historical inspirations, these are also very restrained consequences. For hiding an item that caused the death of the prince (unfortunately, the more valuable child) and has put the life of one of the Emperor's favored High Consorts in danger, Jinshi would be utterly within his rights to order executions. If ignorance is a sin, ignorance in the face of knowledge is a greater one.

Microcosm of Li

For all that Jinshi holds his power lightly, he also takes the responsibility that power bestows upon him quite seriously. It's worth noting that Jinshi takes over governing the Rear Palace shortly after Maomao's service contract is purchased. (Remember, Xiaolan talks about the "beautiful, new eunuch that's been posted to the central courtyard," which tells us that Jinshi has not been in the Rear Palace long enough to become a fixture - he's an object of speculation and admiration from episode 1).

In context it's clear that, with the birth of two Imperial children, his job is to ensure the survival of the Imperial line and investigate why children of the Emperor are dying consistently in one of the wealthiest and safest places in the entire empire. We're shown him running in between Lady Lihua and Lady Gyokuyou to ensure that their very sick children are being seen to properly, investigating what could be causing it, while also managing tensions as rumors about the Emperor's children being cursed begin to spread and outright accusations of sorcery are being thrown between consorts. While the audience might immediately scoff along with Maomao at the idea of one consort cursing another, if Maomao hadn't found the cause of death, those types of accusations followed by Lady Lihua's and Princess Lingli's inevitable deaths could have ended with Lady Gyokuyou's execution.

The Rear Palace is a reflection of the nation as a whole. No Imperial heirs plus the deaths of two High Consorts with various foreign and domestic political ties had the potential to thrust the entire nation into chaos. Jinshi's choices have very real consequences, so when Maomao discovers what the true cause of death is and sends her warning, Jinshi looks at Maomao and doesn't see a person. He sees a "perfect pawn." A tool, one with talents that have ensured that at least one Imperial child has survived and providing a rational explanation why these children have died so that it can be prevented from happening again - and a skill set that can be turned to preventing any more shenanigans in the Rear Palace that could threaten the empire's foundation.

And, as Gaoshun points out, in the beginning of the hairpin scene, she is a toy. Maomao amuses Jinshi up until this point.

For all that Jinshi is shown wielding power with a light hand and a responsible mindset, it literally doesn't occur to him that the people working in the rear palace have stories - some tragic - about how they came to be there. They are resources to be used as befits the Emperor's (and therefore the nation's) need.

Hidden Beauty

When Maomao turns around and Jinshi doesn't recognize her until she speaks, he's shocked. He thought he knew exactly who and what this girl was - ugly and unremarkable, except for her intellectual brilliance and the challenge in managing her by other means than empty compliments and smiles. He attempts to recover and assumes that she is enhancing her looks - and is shocked again when he realizes that the face Maomao has presented to him so far is a protective mask against attracting attention. In a world where beauty is both a currency and a tool that others covet, Jinshi doesn't understand why Maomao would deliberately devalue herself like that. So she tells him.

This is the moment Maomao becomes a person to Jinshi.

Not a toy, not a pawn. Someone who has been ripped from her home and her life illegally and sold off. It's in this moment that Jinshi is forced to confront the ugly side of the society he lives in, people who would rape Maomao out of pure convenience or just take a "borderline marketable" girl off the street in order to get extra drinking money.

Worse, Jinshi is complicit in Maomao's captivity. The Rear Palace has bought her contract - and as the manager of the Rear Palace, Jinshi is responsible for everything that happens within its' walls. The fact that Jinshi does not personally oversee service contracts is irrelevant. The buck stops with him. If the Matron of the Serving Women or whoever is below her is buying these contracts without checking their sources, that is Jinshi's fault because he has allowed a lax enough system to flourish. He has failed to govern this microcosm of the nation wisely, with thought for the welfare of the least powerful among his people. Worse, he has failed to even notice the problem - Maomao may say she's angry about having been kidnapped and sold, but she doesn't react in a way that indicates anger. Instead, she's resigned. Yes, what happened to her was wrong and she's angry about it, but there's literally nothing she or Jinshi can do.

Or Is There?

Jinshi offers Maomao two apologies, the first of which is our first hint to his true status. "I'm sorry we couldn't police them better." Maomao immediately blows off this apology - she points out that there's no way Jinshi should have known and has a very "all's well that ends well" attitude about her situation - her contract will be up eventually and in the meantime she's managed to land in a fulfilling role. Essentially Maomao is telling Jinshi that this apology is not his to make - he's overstepping his responsibility. And, if Jinshi were simply the manager of the Rear Palace, she would be right. It's his job to ensure that the Rear Palace is properly staffed, not to regulate that all contracts comply with the law.

Jinshi apologizes again. This time, he offers no other context. He doesn't accept Maomao's absolution of responsibility - because he knows (even if we, the audience, don't) otherwise. It can certainly be read as Jinshi refusing to accept easy absolution, and the rest of those witnessing the scene, apart from Gaoshun, certainly take it that way.

Instead, he takes the hair stick from his own hair and places it in Maomao's. Their entire relationship has just been upended; Maomao is a person who has been gravely wronged and it is Jinshi's responsibility to begin to make it right. Aside from the personal implications of giving her the hairpin (and the faint blush on his face makes it clear that he's aware of them), it is a form of restitution. There is an unspoken social contract Jinshi is offering that Maomao does not understand in the slightest. It never occurs to her that Jinshi would do something for her with no thought of what he would receive in return, because of the difference in their social ranks. But, from Jinshi's perspective, that social difference is the point. He has failed her and, as the person of higher rank, it is his responsibility to do what is within his power to begin to remedy the situation in front of him.

And, of course, in that moment he sees Maomao in a new light, the other meaning of gifting her his hairpin has fertile ground to take root in Jinshi's mind.

[ms-demeanor]

IDK that I've ever put it in one post before, but here's the transplant speedrun.

1 - Valentines day 2021, he's admitted to the hospital. We take a pre-hospital selfie then I shave his head and he shaves his beard because he doesn't want to deal with hair at the hospital. Me and his mom drop him off; at that point you can only visit someone as they are actually dying and we're told that he's going to stay in the hospital until he gets a transplant or he dies, and if he's rejected as a transplant recipient he'll receive palliative care in this hospital.

2 - First week of March, they allow patients to have one screened visitor; this is our first visit - I take photos in the hospital to show his mom because at this point he has a pump in his shoulder and it is difficult for him to move his arms to use his phone. He has also been confined to a bed since the week he arrived because he's on the ECMO machine, so he can't walk or move around, though they stand him up every once in a while. At one point one of the ecmo tubes pulls out of his femoral artery, which is Not! Great! He also needed a blood transfusion about every two days at that point, which worried the doctors because it increased his likelihood of rejecting. But he had been approved for transplant at that point!

The first thing he said to me on this visit was "look, I have abs" and then he showed me his abs because it turns out when you're really really dying of heart failure your body begins to eat itself.

3 - Now That's What I Call Jaundice (cardiac cirrhosis is liver failure as a result of heart failure and it's pretty much the big giant neon flashing sign of heart failure that says "hey you're fucking dying" so if you've got heart failure and your bilirubin number is off or the whites of your eyes are yellow please kick up a gigantic stink until they check your liver; large bastard's GP, who is my doctor, who I hate, saw his bloodwork with a very high bilirubin number a month before he was diagnosed with cardiac cirrhosis and wrote it off as a testing fluke fuck that guy)

4 - Don't let the sad face fool you, he's acting pathetic so that his mom will stop yelling about the fact that I'm bringing him cookies. He's allowed to have cookies. At that point he weighed 98kg and was outsourcing his heartbeat, he was allowed to eat whatever he wanted. (have i mentioned that I was moving us from Vegas to LA at this time? I was bringing him cookies because I'd baked hundreds of peanut butter cookies and other cookies to use up the flour, sugar, and peanut butter in the vegas house)

5 - Mid-march, he's got a match! He called me when I was in Vegas filling up the truck with another load and I drove right back and to the hospital. Once he went in for surgery I drove to his mom's house and crashed, then woke up and drove to our storage unit and unpacked the truck while I waited to hear from the doctors. I was unloading a bookcase when I got the call. (There wasn't any point in waiting alone in the hospital for sixteen hours; either he was going to make it or he wasn't and someone was going to have to unload the truck at some point. People have been weird about this, like I should have been sitting at his side all the time, but there was a two-hour daily limit for most visits and look i have sat in a waiting room while this dude had a thirteen hour surgery i do not need a repeat of that experience without the soothing balm of nicotine getting me through it; so unloading a truck it was)

6 - Two days after surgery and kind of mad about it. His chest hurt a lot (obviously) but, like, a lot a lot because they'd had to open him up for the bypass just two years earlier.

7 - First walk outside of his room after transplant in early April; he needed a LOT of PT because of how much muscle he'd lost. He lost sixty pounds in the hospital before the surgery, and only gained back about twenty while he was in there.

8 - A visit from the tiny doggo

9 - I come to visit and I've got a new phone with a portrait mode so he steals it and takes stupid pictures for a few minutes. Dude is bored and restless; this is in late april and he's feeling well enough to be moody. ETA: There is a jar of pickles in front of him because he'd been fluid limited for a long time and his salt levels were off and when he got to the hospital they were like "you need electrolytes and a lot of salt" and he was like "sweetheart can you please please please bring me delicious salty things" so I was bringing him jars of pickled mushrooms and garlic stuffed olives and just a huge number of pickles that he kept trying to share with the nurses. "Alli brought the mushrooms again; would you like a pickled mushroom? I have fancy toothpicks to share them with!"

10 - He comes home for the first time in early May; he ends up getting readmitted two more times because of complications before finally being released in early July. ETA: The second time he got readmitted it was for something that he wasn't at all worried about but that they needed to monitor for a couple weeks so he was *SO BORED* and actually feeling pretty okay; so at one point when I was leaving the parking garage at 8pm my car wouldn't start, I did some troubleshooting with the manual and the internet and didn't figure it out, so I called him and he tried to troubleshoot over the phone and got frustrated and was begging his nurses to let him come out to the parking structure to work on my car (they refused) - I ended up getting a tow and fixing it when I replaced the battery terminals.

Photos are all posted with his permission.

Also I dyed my hair purple between photos one and two because it's his favorite color. I also bought a blue dress, red tights, and yellow shoes to wear to visit him because he always teases me for wearing so much black.

I just love him a lot. It was a hard couple years there, but things are getting better.

[stxrvel]

the one where you came close! (2)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, we're still on the safe zone, angst if you squint, just silly writing! a/n. hi guys! finally second chapter is out! im blown away with your response!! thank u so much from the bottom of my heart! i loooooved reading your comments <33 pls remember updates are weekly or biweekly! and if you want to be tagged pls say so in the comments! see you next week ;)

series masterlist | bts masterlist | previous | next

“This is unbelievable! We're going to be rich!!!” 

“What makes you think my sister is going to give you any of that money?” 

“I created that Instagram account that was tagged in Kim Taehyung's damn story, I deserve a raise!” 

“What makes you drones think my daughter is going to give you any of that money?”

“None of you are going to get anything out of that act of feigned innocence. Honey, are you all right?”

It seemed like a light had gone on in the room, four pairs of eyes landing on your still pale, surprised face. The night had been heavy after Yuna's call and you'd had so little sleep that you didn't know how you were functioning at the moment. Maybe that was the thing: you weren't functioning at all.

When you woke up, you thought it had all been a bad dream and that definitely the first exposure you'd had to the guys in years hadn't been because Taehyung came across your books at a convention you decided not to go to and uploaded them to his Instagram account with over eighty million followers. It was impossible, wasn't it? Too crazy. 

Maybe not as crazy as waking up to your parents banging on your bedroom door saying that over a hundred thousand orders had been placed overnight and they didn't have enough book production for that much demand. 

Be that as it may, Yuna and your mother took care of the communications on the account. You went from having twenty followers (including your family and friends —your father had created an account exclusively for that and only followed you—), to almost sixty thousand in at least twelve hours. The posts you had worked so hard to create and put together were finally getting the attention they deserved, but it had all happened so fast and suddenly that it was too strong to process calmly. 

Weighing which was stronger, whether Taehyung's acknowledgment of your existence after so many years of zero contact or that your book sales shot up so immeasurably that they couldn't even keep up with demand, even if a month went by, didn't make things any easier. 

“She's obviously still in shock,” Yuna replied to your mother at your lack of response from the living room, right across the dining room where you had been sitting since you had come down from your room. Your breakfast was still untouched on the table, but that seemed to be the least important thing in the room with all the more important news. 

“Have the printers answered yet?” your brother's voice through the speaker of your father's phone rang as you blinked, reality settling too slowly on your shoulders. You didn't even want to think about what it meant that Taehyung had done that. Maybe it was simply an altruistic act, wasn't it? Maybe he felt guilt and wanted to ameliorate it somehow. What better way than to do an act of charity?

“I'm on it,” your father was sitting across from you in the dining room, his laptop on the glass of the table as he moved his hands over the keyboard and stared through his glasses at the full tip of his nose. From the way his eyes narrowed, your mother snorted. 

“Why don't you get those glasses adjusted if you know you don't see well up close, let alone on electronic devices?” the woman reached over, dragging your father's glasses until they were almost glued to his eyebrows. Your father barely gave her a goofy grin as your mother started shaking her hands. “You better move. I'll do it. You write too slow; you're getting on our son's nerves.” 

“Nah, I'm fine. I don't know if y/n is tho.” 

Silence returned and you growled internally. Well, that was enough conjecture and assumptions without any information to substantiate them, it was time to get down to business. 

 “Do you think we should take over this business now?” Yuna completely ignored your stretch and you sent her a confused look. 

Your brother exclaimed from the phone in agreement. “I call dibs on the treasury!” 

“There's no way you can keep the accounts right! You're studying law.” 

“Seojun is good at numbers, Yuna.” 

 “Ha, with all due respect Mrs. I/n, he must only be good at counting sheep.”

 “Hey,” you tried to get attention, getting up from the chair. 

 “y/n, don't talk, you're still in shock. Can you believe he once called me from the supermarket to ask if he got his change right? He didn't even move from the checkout counter. There were people booing him.” 

 “Ow, my poor baby.” 

 “I told you not to say that to anyone!” 

 “I can't keep quiet if they're speaking lies about you!” 

 “This wasn't lies! This is about my pride!” 

 “Nonsense. I'll handle the treasury. I double majored in finance and international relations for a reason.” 

 “You can't run anything without starting bossing everyone around!” 

 “It's not my fault you're a good-for-nothing!” 

 God. It was going to be a long day. 

- 

Sorting out the whole printing issue and the number of orders was difficult, but with a couple of stories, interactions with new followers and express delivery of the few copies you'd already had at home for months, the waters calmed down a bit. Now, in the stifling silence of your room, you wanted to run. 

 “Are you going to stare at the ceiling all night?” 

 “Maybe.” 

Yuna watched you from the bed while all you could do was stare as notifications continued to pop up on your Instagram account and your mail because the requests simply wouldn't stop, even though you had made a thousand clarifications to all the new followers. You were trying to focus on the bright side of things, regardless of whatever reasons there may have been for everything to have happened that way, but with your friend's incessant gaze lying on your bed it made it a little difficult. You knew she wanted to pierce your skull from curiosity, but you wouldn't know how you would answer her questions. 

 “Is there anything you'd like to share with the class?” 

 The tension had become a little more latent during the last few minutes, when Yuna saw a specific notification on the account. Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin had followed you. To describe your look of shock might be an understatement, and all you did for the next half hour was run across the room and throughout the house vociferating that you were living a nightmare. 

 Yuna has known all along that you had never been a fan of the siamese or their clan of friends, but she never knew why exactly. You had to tell her that you weren't interested in fashion, that you didn't like the kind of music Jungkook made, that hip-hop was never your thing, that you weren't interested in dilfs and you weren't interested in dance either. You had to tell her that all the things you once did with them didn't matter to you because it was painful, even if it was hard to accept.

 You couldn't remember the times you would go shopping at the small mall in town to buy the trending clothes to put together different outfits with Taehyung and Jimin, then go try them all on at your house and invite the others and even your parents to do an impromptu runway show. You couldn't remember how the genre of music that Jungkook and you listened to all the time on his iPod and your MP3 player was the same one that his entire music career focuses on. You couldn't remember the nights when Yoongi would share his writings with you and you would help him compose a song or two on the piano when he felt brave enough. Or the times when you would accompany Hoseok to his workouts and then watch him create dance routines to his favorite songs while Jungkook sang in the background. You also didn't want to remember the times when Namjoon and Seokjin would sponsor their trips and give everyone gifts without expecting anything in return. 

You couldn't remember those things. It was too much to bear for such a weak heart. 

“What do you want to know?” you sighed, your body sliding on the chair as the notifications grew. 

“How did all this happen?” 

“Why do you think I have an answer for that?” 

Yuna clicked her tongue, sitting on the bed with the cell phone still in her hands, still staring at the notification that snapped her out of her sanity. 

“It's just… this is all unbelievable, magnificent and unreal. But how come you're not so excited about what happened?” Yuna slid across the sheets, to be right in front of you, but you refused to look away from the computer. Every time you thought you had overcome and grown around everything that happened so many years ago, something would pop up to remind you that you still had a long way to go. Maybe the nostalgia was strong, but so was the anger. “Regardless of how things turned out, because I know you're not as big a fan as me, this opens a million doors for you and I don't know why you're not celebrating it like we are.” 

 “It's…complicated.” 

 “I don't think so. Tell me.” 

Yuna was unstoppable when she wanted to get answers out, but besides the obvious, of course there was something else that bothered you and kept you from enjoying this boom so much. 

 “It's just that all of this doesn't feel like it was a product of my effort,” you began, letting your gaze wander over the desk. The copies of your books you kept for yourself, the first ones you'd ever printed several years ago, lay there, as tattered as your failed accomplishment. “It doesn't feel like an achievement that my work had exploded thanks to a celebrity whose fans would buy even the toilet paper he uses. A lot of those people won't even read the book. They will just buy it and take a picture of it to say that they have the same book that the great Kim Taehyung read. Many of those books will never have a life, they will just be dust collectors and be reminders that all this did not happen because of my effort.” 

“What the fuck are you blabbering about? Of course it's the fruit of your effort! Of course you deserve it!” Yuna got up from the bed and moved the chair around the back to leave you in front of her disgruntled and almost offended face. You could see the words drawn in her face. “You worked so many years to pull this off and after so many bumps you finally can! You deserve to have what you wanted so badly. This recognition will last just the same because many other people will read them and love them and they may not be many, but you will form a solid foundation as time goes on with people who will be truly unconditional and supportive and that will grow over time. Don't look at this so negatively, maybe you skipped a couple of steps, but you had every right to. It was what you deserved after all the effort and dedication you put into this project for so many years.” 

 Yuna didn't hesitate for a second. Her very serious expression sent a shiver down your spine and you could tell from her furrowed brow that she really was angry at your perception. Perhaps she was right, but without knowing the full background of this specific situation, you were only left to shake your head in assent and send her a grateful smile. 

“I guess you're right,” you lifted a shoulder, turning your gaze back to your mail notifications.

“Of course I am!” the smile returned to her face and it didn't take long for her to look back down at her phone with sparkling eyes. “Now that we got the emotional charge out of the way, would you mind telling me how you know Taehyung?” 

Your breathing stopped for a second and you cursed yourself because it sounded too loud as you almost choked on your own saliva. 

“Oh?” 

Play fucking dumb. 

“What, did you think I wasn't going to notice? He wrote it crystal clear.” 

Yuna wasn't even looking at you, too focused on running her finger over the row of notifications. Her nonchalant demeanor only caused you to panic more. It was as if she had caught you red-handed. 

One of the best writers I've ever met in my life, damn you Kim Taehyung. 

“Ah… I didn't… I didn't really know him so let's just say…”

“He couldn't have said that for nothing, don't you think? No celebrity would do that unless it was a person they hold in deep regard.” 

Yuna had just caught you totally off guard. Maybe you should've focused a lot more on what Taehyung had written before you blocked his user from your personal account and threw the phone in the bottom of your drawer the night before and tried hard not to think about the rest for the rest of the night and all that day. 

“It's just that… uhm… we studied at the same school. But for a short time actually. I don't even remember it well actually, ha, ha.” 

Your laugh came out too constrained under your friend's narrow-eyed stare. You knew you'd have a hard time convincing her because you were a lousy liar. 

“You know, it always struck me as odd that you weren't a fan. Taehyung and Jimin are like the two extremes of your ideal type.” 

“Whaaaat?”

“And Jungkook's music is literally the kind of music you listen to, you just don't listen to his. All the other artists in the same genre you do listen to.”

“That has nothing to do with…” 

“And even your parents don't claim to know Kim Seokjin when your mother was literally a nurse. She probably worked with him.” 

“What does that have to do…?”  

“And your brother is a hip-hop fan. How come he doesn't listen to Agust D? He's the best rapper of the last few decades and he's been trending for a long time.” 

“…” 

At what fucking moment? 

“And all of them, plus Hobi and Namjoon, they all went to the same school. They're all friends. And you say you went to school with Taehyung?” 

“Ahm… well, yes, but it's not like I would have met the others.” 

Yuna looked at you, really looked you straight in the eyes as if that way she could tell what it was you were hiding or as if that solved all her guesses. It was impossible for her not to figure it out if she had already tied up all the damn loose ends. 

Since the boys had left one by one, clearly your family was the first to realize how much their departures had affected you. In the beginning there was communication and all, but when Jungkook was the last to leave you lost any kind of link with them completely. You never knew exactly what happened because no matter how hard you tried to contact them you couldn't, not even your parents could talk to the boys' parents. Perhaps they had simply grown up, matured, completely forgetting about their ordinary life in that town. 

They seemed to have disappeared from the planet. 

Until your family moved to the capital. Jungkook was just starting out as an idol, but he had an amazing debut. He had captivated the entire audience and was too successful almost from the second one. It was a torment to watch them grow professionally little by little because, although you were happy for their achievements and all, you couldn't forget that they had basically abandoned you. And your parents and Seojun had noticed. They had noticed how much seeing them all over the place was bumming you out, so unreachable when at one point they were all in your living room eating your mother's delicious kimchi and listening to your father's anecdotes. Everyone was affected by their departures, but clearly no one as much as you. 

That's why, of course, your parents and brother had made a silent vow to keep all media about the boys away from you, because they didn't even talk about it by accident in the house, at least not when you were present. 

“It must be a huge coincidence…” Yuna continued and only at that moment did you realize how much you got into your head. Your vision slightly blurred. “I shouldn't accuse you of anything for things like that, should I? What nonsense.” 

You were probably as white as a sheet of paper. 

“Yeah, it would be too weird… ha, ha.” 

God, you had to stop letting out those giggles when you were nervous. 

“Anyway, should we order fried chicken for dinner?” 

“I think I heard mom say she was going to make japchae.” 

“Ohhhhhh, Mrs. l/n's japchae is delicious!” 

You let out a laugh watching your friend spring up from the bed and head for the door. She stopped halfway out and pointed her index finger at you. 

“Don't tell my mom I said that.” 

You made a gesture to zipper your mouth shut and Yuna finally left. 

The previous conversation had been so tense that you already felt tired and ready to sleep at seven o'clock at night. Really the whole day had been so heavy for everyone that you didn't know how the lights in the house were still on. For now, you couldn't do anything else, even if orders continued to come in, now everything depended on the printer and how fast the books would come out, so you would have to wait. 

Maybe you should rest. You had asked your boss for the day off, but tomorrow you would have to continue working hard. Regardless of the incredible growth you'd had, you couldn't let your work go to waste. 

Tomorrow would be a new day. A quieter one, preferably. 

-

a/n: i'll try to have ready part 3 for next week! see you on june 13 at 11:59 pm - GMT5 time!

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592

[doberbutts]

I can't understand the idea that someone outside of an oppressed group cannot be victims of violence towards that oppressed group. That anon you deleted, the one who got mad and went "so cis people can experience transphobia!?!" Have you not read the news lately? What? What is happening to Imane Khalif right now? When you are past some arbitrary "acceptable range" of looks, behavior, etc., you become a target. As a cis woman who grew up in a conservative area, having "boyish interests" was enough for me to be subject to slurs and abuse. And it stuck around past that, because I have a small chest and broad shoulders, a long face. Whatever. Systems of oppression effect everyone under them because they all rely on "passing". You are required to reach a bar and to look and perform in certain ways and that bar is ever changing.

Well, that's why when someone was in my replies being upset that I asked how Khelif could be considered TME when transmisogyny was actively happening to her, one of the things I responded to said person was:

I don't understand how discussion the widespread effect of a systemic form of oppression and how it affects other things or is used as a weapon in other things, at all damages or erases the conversation that said systemic form of oppression is a problem. If anything, it's spreading further awareness.

I understand if the concern is that not enough people are caring about the trans women to whom transmisogyny happens on a regular basis, and are instead only ever caring about non trans fems and their relationship with being on the receiving end of transmisogyny. That is a problem, and it's one that does need to be talked about more often.

However I don't think any other form of oppression is specifically locked to only the people who identify as that oppressed demographic. Men experience misogyny. White people experience racism. Abled people experience ableism. "You throw like a girl" "you're not my daughter if you marry that black man" "what are you, deaf?" these are all things that are experienced by the "wrong" demographic, because in truth? The demographic doesn't matter.

These are systems we're talking about- the system of misogyny is what leads boys who fail to be masculine enough to be compared to girls as a way to state they are inferior, because the point is that with the system of misogyny, girls are inherently inferior to boys. Therefore, calling a boy a girl is calling him weaker, lesser, and not good enough.

The system of racism is what leads white parents to disown their children if their children date outside of their race. The point is that under the system of racism, interracial dating is seen as an aberration, and these racist parents then reject their own children for daring to love someone who is not white.

The system of ableism is what leads people to make comparisons to disability when bringing up someone's shortcomings. Disabled people are largely seen as failures in abled society, so by pointing to disability whenever faced with what is perceived as inadequacy, the system of ableism operates to continue to associate being disabled with worthlessness, and being abled with having worth.

Hell, it was not that long ago that "gay" and "retarded" were used as synonyms for "bad" and "stupid". Some people still use these words that way. It was a fucking Rick and Morty joke a few years ago, this isn't ancient history.

So when I'm told that I don't experience a system of oppression based solely on my labeled demographic and not on my actual lived experience, my immediate first thought is "that's not how systems of oppression work, literally everyone experiences these things in different ways, because that's what is meant when we call something systemic, it means the entire fucking system is built around this as a crux of logic"

Which is very weird to me then when someone tells me that by saying Khelif is/was experiencing transmisogyny, I'm erasing trans women. How? I genuinely don't understand how that's possible when I'm saying that the explicit hatred and fear of the trans woman boogeyman is what led us here in the first place. I am saying "this comes directly from people pushing transmisogynistic rulings for years and was always going to be the end result when they finally excluded all the actual trans women". I'm saying "it was bad logic when applied to trans women and it's bad logic even now, being applied to a [self-identified] perisex cisgender 'biological' woman and we should have put our foot down about it years ago when trans women and intersex women were actually competing".

Transmisogyny is a system of oppression. The system is functioning normally even when it fires at targets it's "not supposed to". That's what happens under systemic oppression. That's a feature, not a bug.

[hooid]

"Real darkness has love for a face" is probably one of the hardest and most soul crushingly sad lines written in videogame history and I can't express enough how much it and many other lines from Disco Elysium shaped me to be the person I am now.

These are screams and pained cries by and for the survivors and descendants of a revolution that burned the roots of a world and never let the soil recover. Lines like "Should the stars also go out", "This is all you have. Streets and sodium lights" or "It's about failure" are bright and beautiful and thought provoking and so, so sad.

But they're hopeful. Oh so very hopeful.

These are MY cathedrals. Not economic growth or going to the moon or getting a new car or house or breaking the human limit or making women love me. Just a bunch of pixels and lines of code written by depressed alcoholics in the brink of bankruptcy because they want the world to be better, and only people can make it better.

A bunch of stupid lines that got me organizing and out of drinking and sure that even if we're already fucked and the world is done I can and WILL try to make it better.

There's this twitter post saying that hope is not pristine delicate and ephemeral but dirty and bloody and ready to get her ass up for the 20th time to lose another tooth.

Because we will do the little things and the kind acts to the ones we love and we will rise together to do the big things and the fierce acts.

Not for us, but for all.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐎𝐟𝐟-𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 | 10-24

"We're partners."

Tags/Warnings: Police Officer!Jungkook, Dog Hybrid!Reader, Partners to lovers?, Alternate law-system/made up laws, crime, futuristic, sci-fi, body-modifications?, Fluff, romance, angst, medical themes, injuries

Length: 4.5k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

A/N: the fic was supposed to end with thispart, as there seemed to be no more interest for it, but I decided against it haha

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

You know your fate the moment you wake up.

From the apologetic looks of nurses to the sighs then leading doctor keeps making as he checks your reflexes- or lack thereof- you know that you’re done for. How will your life change? Will the carecenter at least be nice to you? How will you adapt?

Is Jungkook going to at least say goodbye to you?

You kind of.. Exist for an entire week in the hospital, not really interested in anything as they prepare you for your next surgery. Bodymods- Paid for by the government due to your outstanding work in the police force. It’s normal, a regular thing, you’ve heard about it all the time and you know somewhat that Jungkook was covered by the same program as you are right now- but Jungkook had had time to adjust. Hybrids, as far as you know, don’t get that time.

Because they take much longer to figure things out.

When you wake up after your surgery, you’re yet again alone. You see no familiar faces, only the nurses who keep trying to cheer you up, and you honestly feel bad for not reciprocating at least a smile every now and then. You feel horrible. Like a failure.

What’s going to happen to you?

It’s the day after your surgery, that something happens. Someone enters your room, and you believe it might be someone who’s been working with Jungkook recently due to his faint scent, maybe having been sent to give you some important notice or something- but when you turn around to look at who’s closing the door, bags rustling in his hand, you’re surprised to find Jungkook himself here.

“I’m sorry I only came now.” He apologizes quietly, putting the plastic bag down before he lets another black backpack slip from his shoulder down to the floor next to your bag. “There was.. Some stuff I had to take care of.” He says, and you nod, quietly.

Of course. He’s got to find a new hybrid now, after all.

“How are you?” He asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed near your legs, watching you. He looks tired- more exhausted than you are right now, clear fatigue on his face as he waits for an answer. You shrug, because that’s all you can offer. You’re physically doing good, surprisingly so according to the doctor who’s overseeing your condition, but mentally, you’re not sure. “You’ll be okay.” Jungkook offers, a hand on your leg feeling weird. You know its there, but its still an odd sensation.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

You stare at his hand on your leg, limbs tucked away beneath the blanket you’re sleeping under most of the time. “When will they pick me up?” You ask, and he frowns a bit, obvious sign of confusion on his side, before he realizes what you might be asking about. He shakes his head.

“They won’t.” He denies. “We’re partners, remember?” He offers, and you can’t help but feel your throat clog up and eyes sting as they fill with tears, forcing you to look away.

And then, he moves, gets up before he leans over the bed- hugging you close.

“We’re partners.” He whispers to you, while you can’t help but begin to cry- both in relief and also because he finally makes you feel safe enough to let it all out. “and we’ll stay partners.” He reassures you, hands softly holding you.

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It turns out that the reason Jungkook didn’t visit you for this long, was because he really did have to take care of stuff. That ‘stuff’ not actually being just finding a good place for your physical rehabilitation, but also adjusting his home so you can still somewhat move around freely. Everything is suddenly a lot more.. Open almost, not disconnected from you anymore. It feels like you’re actually supposed to live with him from now on, and not just alongside him any longer.

It’s odd.

Jungkook’s request for official ownership has been sent out despite the fact that he’s technically not yet eligible for it due to you both not having worked together for enough time. But he’s found a potential loophole, has made use of the fact that you got injured on duty and that he himself has to resign soon anyways- so with a bit of luck, and his good writing skills that described your situation and dedication towards your job in the past, he might just get it approved.

He hopes he will. He can’t imagine letting you go.

You’re on heavy medication, similar to how he used to be years ago when he got himself injured enough to require such a surgery. But bringing you back home into a familiar environment surely helped your sleep- your body knocked out on the couch with your legs close to his own. He’s watching TV when he notices them twitching while you dream- nerves still confused and healing as they adjust to the changes and new situation.

He’ll be there every step of the way- figuratively and literally.

Everyone wants to visit you- even Yoongi- but that’s too soon yet. Jungkook fears that it might overwhelm you to have people roaming around already, and also, he kind of wants to be selfish just for a little bit, and use this time to be for you who he’d wanted to be for so long. Not just a coworker- but a friend.

Because you deserve it.

His hand carefully help you turn onto your other side when you wake up itching to move into a new position to nap, and this time, you put your legs over his lap just to see what might happen. And he lets you, accepts them, even makes sure to try and comfort you when they begin to hurt a little later in the day. He doesn’t know if he will get the papers approved, but he also knows he’ll fight for it- so there’s no reason to keep you at an arm’s length anymore.

He can let you in.

Suddenly, you want to move again, whining for him to help once more as he makes sure not to cause you any harm as he helps you adjust your position once more. And as soon as he sits down again, a pillow of yours is slapped onto his lap, boldly so, before you pull yourself even closer, laying your head on his thighs. He’s got no choice but to lay one of his arms over your shoulder now, and you receive it well- even holding onto his hand in your sleep now, as he turns down the volume of the TV just a tad bit more so you can sleep better.

This is heaven to you.

This is who you would’ve loved to be- if your tail was working properly it would be wagging at a constant, heart warm at the way he finally offers so much gentle affection. You love your job- but you also love the idea of this maybe potentially being your future. Just a normal hybrid, nothing to fear, and nothing outstanding to expect from.

Just a normal life.

You turn around somewhat by yourself this time with some help of his to guide your legs, face now hidden in the soft fabric of his sweater, hands still holding his.

And he lets you.

Because, He honestly doesn’t want to let go either.

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Jungkook enjoys life like this- though he could most certainly do without you in a state of hurt and discomfort. The brace you wear currently for both your pelvis injuries and your new mods, so that they can heal properly and that the movement and possible disturbances are reduced to a minimum clearly limits your movement and makes you feel stiff- but its there to make sure you heal properly. You’re fidgety with it, and he knows you’re clearly not comfortable- but it’s necessary.

He’s trying hard to both distract you from it, and help you adjust to your new situation.

“See? You’ll get to swim a lot there.” He tells you, currently showing you the website of the rehabilitation place he chose. “I’ll be there too if you’d like. There’s trained people there too but-”

“I want you to!” You burst out, turning your head to look at him. “I’d.. Like if you’d go there with me.” You say more quiet now, noticing that he might not actually want that. What if he simply feels bad you got injured on a job with him? You never thought of this all potentially just being a fruit from his guilt and nothing more.

But be smiles, and nods, and maybe that’s enough for now.

“Listen..” He starts, closing the tab of the website for now to do something surprising- a gentle hug from where he’s got you sat on his lap, arms around you and chin on your shoulder, careful not to cause you any pain. “..even if it get’s declined, I’ll fight.” He says.

“Fight for what?” You wonder, and he’s quiet for a second, before he speaks again.

“Fight to stay at your side.” He mumbles. “They’re not taking you away from me like that. I know you want to stay, and you should have the right to do so no matter what.” He sighs.

“jungkook..” you start, unsure what to really say. He’s right that you want to stay with him, but does he know why? Your reasoning might not be what he thinks, considering he never really gave you any hint as to how he feels about you. You’ve got a crush on him basically- wouldn’t that make living here together make it unbearable for him? “I’m scared.” You admit.

He turns towards you right away.

“of what?” He worries, not sure what your problem is. Maybe the incident had left you with some more psychological trauma as well?

“..the future.” You say. “I don’t.. I don’t know if living here is such a good idea.” You tell him, and at that he becomes a bit nervous. You don’t know he has some deeper feelings for you. He’s kept it quite secret from you after all- so you don’t know. Right?

“What do you mean?” He asks back, eye contact not as strong as before.

“I don’t think I can.. What if you want to live with someone?” You ask, shrugging. “What if you.. Find someone you like, then what?” You worry.

“I won’t ever like someone as much as you.” He simply sighs, a bit relieved and hopeful he’s interpreting your words correctly. And from the way you look at him full of wonder, he knows he is- which makes him visibly relax now as he watches you. “I think.. As weird as it might sound..” He starts, shrugging as he helps you adjust your position a little, making sure your brace is still properly placed. “I always believed that we meet people for a reason. That I.. that we always got the jobs we did for a reason.” He explains. “From the little girl we found when she ran off a few years back, the veteran we made sure was safe when he was having a flashback, or even that last one.” He sighs. “I think, just maybe, things happen for a reason.”

“I like the idea of that.” You say, leaning into him to rest your head against his shoulder. “It sounds better than.. Having to accept that people are sometimes just plain evil.” You say, and he can pretty much feel you not only physically leaning into him-

But emotionally as well, as you relax in his hold.

“Hey, kook?” You wonder quietly, and hems his answer to you. “can you leave your.. room open, maybe?” You ask, and he nods.

“Of course.” He tells you. “I can also.. sleep in the living room. So you can see me when you keep your room door open- just in case you need something.” He offers, but you fidgety again.

“I kind of.. it’s not for that.” You deny. “just.. if we live together now.. “ you mumble, unsure how to say it, before you take a deep breath and rush it out before you can chicken out again. “I don’t wanna sleep alone anymore!” You say, eyes closed as you wait for the inevitable.

But instead, he just hugs you again, and softly laughs.

“Alright.” He simply agrees. “You could.. also just sleep in my room. My bed is big enough, after all.” He offers, and you turn around to look at him.

“wait- really?” You ask, and he nods.

“Really.” He nods, and at that, you both notice something remarkable happening.

Because despite everything you’ve both been told, and even though it’s very uncoordinated and weak-

Your tail starts to wag again.

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Despite Jungkook not getting proper rest due to you turning and waking up so much during the night, he still enjoys having you so close these days.

You often wake up sore or with pins and needles in your leg- most of the time just one, but sometimes, like tonight, it’s both. He’s tired, but he pushes through that as he helps you get through those tough episodes of your healing process, having given you your medication, before he began running his fingers and hands over your legs like he’s been taught at the hospital to help circulation.

He’s yawning, and so are you just seconds later. It’s a hard time for both of you- but you’ve got each other, and that makes it a lot more manageable.

And right now, after you’ve caught up on some of the lost sleep with a good nap on the couch in the living room, you’re floating in water with Jungkook holding your shoulders so your head doesn’t accidentally dip beneath the surface. He’s listening to the instructor while you do the same, moving your legs a lot more easily this way, as you work up your strength again with the aid of the pool you’re in. And, in a way, it’s also partially a good way to bond with Jungkook- at least in a more personal way compared to before. And you know that it’s more than just friendship- he’s clear in that department, just simply moving it slow, most likely until he knows if he can live with you permanently or not.

Which makes sense. He probably doesn’t want to make you feel worse than you have to if he doesn’t get it approved after all.

Still, you let yourself enjoy this made up dream for as long as it lasts. “You’re adapting a lot faster than other hybrids.” The instructor comments, watching how you kick the water the way he told you to- not very strongly, and a little uncoordinated, but there’s clear control over your legs. “I’m very sure you’ll be just fine by the end of the year.” He says, making you proudly look up at Jungkook, who smiles encouragingly.

You can take as much time as you need- he doesn’t mind one bit.

“I saw you had mods as well?” He asks Jungkook, who nods. “that’s good. A lot of the things you went through will most likely help her too in her recovery.” He informs him, and Jungkook smiles down towards you. “But it’s a good sign that she’s in such high spirit. Usually, hybrids tend to become very shut off and withdrawn, especially former police hybrids. It’s good that she’s got emotional support as well.” He comments, making your tail wag again beneath the water surface.

“well, she deserves it all.” He says, looking down at you with a fond smile-

And you feel like he really means it.

Later, you’re both stopping at a park just to unwind, but you don’t want to really get out of the car at all. The sight of all the people playing around, children running, hybrids having fun, just makes you feel way too melancholic. You’ll most likely never have this again. You’ll never be able to run like that ever again, no matter how hard you try. From now on, you’ll always have to be careful, always have to keep in mind not to overdo it, always have to make sure you’re not pushing any limits you now have.

Jungkook sighs. He’s most likely at a loss on what to do as well- and even if he was to ask you, you’re not sure if you could even tell him what could make you feel better.

“Here.” He suddenly says, catching your attention again as you’re sitting in the open trunk with him, watching the people at the park before you look at the phone he’s showing you. His phone- and there’s a video playing.

It’s him- he has a bit less tattoos clearly, and his hair is a lot longer, pulled back into a tiny little ponytail while he’s holding onto two bars set up at the sides. He’s unsteady, a lot of medical tape covering his back and neck, while he holds onto the bars for dear life, taking step after step in a hardly coordinated way. He’s concentrated, clearly.

“It took me months to take those steps.” Jungkook explains, swiping away into his gallery again to find other videos and images he shows you. “And at first, I really thought ‘that’s it’. I believed I’d have to just resign and accept the fact that I’m going to have to rely on help for the rest of my life.” He tells you, letting you scroll through the videos yourself. “But I got back up. It just took a little time.” He tells you.

“But that was you.” You disagree, giving him his phone back. “What if I can’t do that?” You worry, and he just reaches over to pull you into his side, running his hand up and down your arm in comfort.

“Then I’ll carry you anywhere you want to go.” He reassures you. “I’ll be your legs.”

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“Is there a reason you’re carrying her around?” Seokjin asks, watching you sit in the middle of the police headquarter’s training grounds, while Yoongi plays simple tug-of-war with you. Everyone can see that while he doesn’t outright show it, he is a lot gentler than he would usually be.

“She hates the wheelchair.” Jungkook sighs, sitting at the sidelines with his coworker. “And she’s still too weak to use crutches. So I carry her.” He shrugs, making Jin nod.

“Will she even ever walk again?” Taehyung curiously asks, not even aware that the question could hit a nerve for Jungkook- though he takes it lightly.

“She will.” Jungkook says with a final tone to it, shutting every different thought about the situation down. And he also makes it clear that he doesn’t allow any other opinion about it- or at least doesn’t want to hear it. He knows there’s a possibility you might not recover as well as he did, after all, hybrids tend to statistically have a harder time adapting to modifications than humans do. But Jungkook believes in you.

He knows if he doesn’t, you will stop believing in yourself as well.

He hears his name being called instantly and gets up even faster, as if his body reacts earlier than his brain can comprehend what he heard, walking towards you who’s still sitting in the grass outside. “She’s tired.” Yoongi chuckles from the side, leaving the toy in your lap as you hold onto the long bunny.

“I’m not.” You defend yourself. “But I.. do wanna go home for now.” You say, and Jungkook nods.

“Alright then. Up you go.” He jokes, as he positions himself in front of you for you to climb onto his back, so he can carry you out of the building and back into the car that you both take to drive back home. Only once you’re back in your bed is when you finally reveal to Jungkook why exactly you wanted to go home so suddenly.

“..can you maybe give me one of those painkillers?” You wonder quietly, and Jungkook nods, fetching your medication for you together with a bottle of water.

“I had them with me, you know?” He says as you take them, clearly in pain by now from the way you seem so stiff in your movements. “It’s not bad at all to admit when you’re hurting.”

“I know..” You mumble defeated. “I didn’t want Yoongi to feel bad or something. I had fun.” You say, and Jungkook smiles.

“I’m glad you did. But don’t overdo it.” He teasingly scolds, putting your water to the side for now. “You wanna nap alone, or should I stay?” He asks, and you look up at him hopefully. “Alright alright.” He laughs, easily able to interpret your subtle body language into proper answers by now. You instantly cling to him, bolder than ever before, and he’s a little suspicious about it. “You’re pretty cuddly today.” He comments, and you nod.

“Shouldn’t I be?” You wonder. “Do you not like that?” You ask, and he immediately denies that claim right away.

“No, I love it. It’s just sudden, that’s all.” He shrugs off, helping you adjust your position a little to lay even closer to him.

“I just don’t want to.. waste time. You know. If we do end up being unable to live together.” You mumble into his chest. “I don’t want to.. have to regret not using my time with you good enough, you know?” You explain, and he nods.

He understands this. After all, your words hold a lot of true meaning in them.

But for now, you both can pretend. That nothing is wrong, that you’re just two people, that you have all the time in the world.

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“I came as fast as I could. What’s wrong?” Jungkook worries, having left you at your physical therapy place for now when he’d gotten the text from Seokjin, who made sure to emphasize how urgently jungkook was needed.

“You might want to read this.” Seokjin says, handing him a letter that the younger officer opens to unfold it, and read what it’s about.

He has to sit down.

Letting it all sink in, Jungkook just sits in silence for a good moment, as he sets the letter down on the small plastic table that he sits at. “Yoongi is actually pretty upset over it.” Seokjin admits. “That’s why he’s not here today. He just doesn’t want to hear any of it.”

Yoongi has had a bit of a tough time bonding with you at first, as far as Jungkook knows. Yet over the course of time, you two had bonded very closely, like two pups of the same litter so to speak. He’d watched over you, had always made sure you’d feel included and valued even when you struggled at first to really find your place. And when you were paired with Jungkook, and that whole fiasco went down, Yoongi had been there too- to make sure you know that everything’s going to be alright.

And now, that all ends. Not right away- but it will.

Later, as he brings you home, he’s not sure how to really break those news to you. He doesn’t know how you’ll react to it, what you think about it- but he also knows that you’re already aware that something’s off about his behaviour. You’ve been trained to sniff out such things after all.

And you’ve always been damn good at your job.

You finished eating your dinner, when Jungkook presents the letter to you- having you read it, and make up your own mind about the contents of it. “I don’t.. Really understand.” You admit, giving the letter back to him. “What does that mean?” You ask with worry- which he understands fully. It is also worded quite complicated, so he doesn’t blame you for having trouble interpreting it all.

“Remember how I filed in for official ownership?” He asks, and you nod. “Well, it neither got denied, nor approved, basically.” At that, you tilt your head a little, confused. “Once you’re rehabilitated enough to return to basic service, we will basically resume our jobs until I fulfilled my time before retirement.” He explains, as you listen. “And then, they’ll transfer me to you, basically.”

“So, right now, I’m still belonging to the.. Police?” You wonder, still not quite getting it.

“No. Right now, you’re fully under my care, until you’re healed enough to get back to work. At least for regular patrol.” He tries again to make it even simpler to understand. “Once you do, we both resume work, until I have fulfilled enough time to retire since my mods prevent me from continuing service.” Jungkook says. “Right now, we’re basically on pause. Once we’re back in service, we work together until I retire together with you. And you’re automatically transferred under my name.”

“So.. Right now, we’re just.. Making sure I heal, and then we just get back to work? Until we both retire again in a year?” You ask, and he laughs, nodding.

“Essentially, yeah. It’s pretty complicated, but I guess it’s protocol.” He laughs.

“But that means.. We can’t be together anymore. Until we retire.” You worry.

“Not really. We can still be together, openly, as long as it doesn’t interfere with our work. You’ll have to take a test basically, and when you pass it, we’re good to go.” He explains.

“So.. I’m not useless?” You ask, and Jungkook’s face instantly falls.

“What? You were never useless, what do you mean?” He worries, pulling you closer to hug you. “What made you think that?”

“Because I can’t even walk right now. I can’t do anything.” You huff, clearly still upset with yourself.

“You can. And you’ll get better soon, promise.” He says. “They already praise you for your quick progress. They don’t just lie and say that to everyone, trust me!” He reassures you, while you cling closer to him. “For now, lets just enjoy the time we have. This isn’t a final decision yet, so there might even be a chance they decide otherwise and just let go of the year missing entirely.” He tells you, as you sigh.

“But we’ll stay together?” You ask, and he nods, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours with a smile.

“We’ll stay together.” He tells you.

“We’re partners after all.”

[sv5hive]

in every universe? | cl16

pairing(s): charles leclerc x fem!reader

content warning(s): use of y/n, pretending the university of monaco has an architecture course shhhh, inaccurate architecture course information bcos i am lazy, ma**ia bin**to mention IM SORRY

word count: 2,580

note: this is my longesttt fic yet and i had so much fun writing it!! i hope you like it just as much 🫶🏻

masterlist!

"so in summary, i want to see how you will finance your project while keeping your budget in mind, any issues you may come across and their solutions, the influence behind it, how it might impact the environment and the population as well as visual aids to guide the audience. these presentations are due next month and remember! it is your responsibility to arrange times to work on the presentation together. i won't be accepting any excuses whatsoever!"

you chewed on the end of your pen at your professor's reminder as you watched everyone filter out the doors from your seat right at the back.

group projects always meant you would have to do all the work yourself just to share equal credit with everyone else in the group who didn't even attempt to contribute. this project was unlikely to be any different. it didn't help that you hadn't yet managed to make any genuine friendships with your classmates. it was understandable though, considering the expected workload at such a renowned university like monaco.

"hi, are you y/n l/n?"

too deep in your own thoughts about the assignment, you didn't realise the room had emptied completely. you also didn't realise other people apart from your professor knew your name. moving your gaze up to the source of the sound, you found a man almost too good looking to be true.

"oh, uh, yeah. yes, i am. sorry, who are you?"

with each word that escaped your mouth, you felt your face heating up. you didn't mean to be rude but you truly had no idea who you were talking to. how had you never noticed this greek god of a man in your class until now?

"i'm charles leclerc. we're in a group together for the assignment and i thought it would be a good idea to get your number so we can talk set up a time to talk about our ideas."

he held out his unlocked phone to you, inviting you to type in your number. if he was offended by your failure to recognise him it certainly didn't show which helped calm your frazzled nerves.

"oh, of course! sorry, i'm not used to someone else taking responsibility in a group project. usually i'm stuck doing everyone's work on top of my own. here you go." you replied while saving your number into his contacts.

he smiled at your admission and reassured you he wouldn't dare leave you to handle the entire project alone.

"i already have everyone else's numbers so i'll make a groupchat too. when are you free?"

as much as you would like to lie and say you had a life outside of studying, you didn't. but you would gladly say yes to any get together if it meant charles would be there too.

"honestly, i'm always free so any time works for me." you explained while packing your bag and standing up from your seat.

he grinned and walked with you towards the exit and out the building.

"yeah? how about now? there's this café i've heard is really good and i've been meaning to try it, i just haven't had the time recently."

you stopped in your tracks.

was he asking you on a date? this was definitely new. obviously you had been in a few relationships before but they had never quite managed to get you flustered like this on the first meeting.

truth be told, he had gone to that café a million times over as it was the closest one to campus that served the best croissants for cheap but you didn't need to know that.

"are you asking me on a date?" you asked, not hesitating to get straight to the point.

his grin flickered for a split second, almost in surprise at your bluntness, before growing impossibly wider.

"uh, yeah, i'm asking you on a date right now. so? what do you say?"

"hmmm, and what do i get out of it if i say yes?"

you didn't think twice about taking him up on his offer but it was fun to watch him scramble for reasons you should have a coffee with him. you watched him come up with several nonsensical arguments before you decided to put him out of his misery.

"relax, i'll go on a date with you! you should've seen your face!"

he blushed at your antics before joining in your giggles at his own expense. he had a feeling your laughter would become his favourite sound.

"what are you waiting for then? lead the way."

unsurprisingly, you two were the only ones who took part in the group project but you couldn't complain when you had such good company to help you.

"this is charles leclerc, he will be your race engineer starting from next season." your team principal fred vasseur gently pushed you away from your teammate to the new hire fresh out of internship at haas.

after the quick decline of your 2022 season, ferrari had wasted no time in sacking binotto and your less than competent engineer for much more suitably equipped individuals.

"pleasure to meet you, charles. i'm y/n l/n. are you sure you're ready for this?" you outstretch your hand to shake his.

"thank you, it's a pleasure to meet you as well, you are an inspiration to so many. i'm extremely grateful to be given this opportunity to work with such a talented driver like yourself. and yes i'm one hundred percent ready to give my everything so you can bring home some wins and maybe even the championship." he spoke with a conviction almost as if he had been practicing it in the mirror for weeks.

his hand wrapped around yours and you couldn't help but notice how warm they were even in the frigid winter. you grinned at his confidence and faith in not only himself but also the team and you as a driver. it was certainly the energy you needed after the less than impressive season that you had just wrapped up.

"i like him already! so much more positive than my last engineer. where have you been all this time?" you declared patting him on the back while looking at your team principal in approval.

he was so sure you could notice the pink tinge on his cheeks as he nervously smiled at your praise and suddenly found the carpeted floor the most interesting thing in the room to observe.

"i'm glad you two are getting along! now let's get on with this meeting. i would like to get home at a reasonable time today."

as the meeting dragged on, you found yourself staring at charles opposite you out of nothing but pure curiosity and maybe a little bit of humour. it was clear he harboured some feelings towards you that he couldn't hide no matter how hard he tried. that much was evident in the way he refused to even glance in your direction at the risk of making eye contact.

"we don't quite know how the others will perform yet but we definitely expect to be more on pace with red bull next year. this season wasn't our best but it gives us a good foundation to improve on which is better than nothing. any questions?"

even if there were any questions left unanswered everyone was much too tired to articulate them and so the meeting room fell into silence before you all said your goodbyes to each other wishing everyone a restful winter break.

you were headed out the door when you heard your name being called. you turned to see charles jogging to catch up to you and so you decided to wait for him at the exit.

"you excited for the winter break?" you strike up a conversation with him as you dawdled towards the car park together.

"yes, but i'm more excited for the season to start. i've been preparing for this my whole life. what about you? surely you're tired of being in the car?" he questioned with genuine interest.

"no, not really. i mean i've been preparing for this my whole life too. the travelling is a lot to handle but there's nothing more i enjoy than being in the car. don't get me wrong, i do like being at home too. i just love racing so much i wish i could do it all the time."

"really? you don't ever get tired of racing?" he looked over at you in wonder and you smiled at his disbelief.

"really. ever since i was a kid i've always wanted to be racing constantly. what about you? i mean pretty much all of us drivers got into the sport through karting. what made you want to be a race engineer?"

"well actually i did get into karting too. my father took me and my brothers to a local track and it all started there. i liked karting but i was always more interested in the technical side. my younger brother arthur liked it a lot though and he decided to pursue a career. he's actually stepping up to formula 2 next year."

"yeah? he must be pretty good then." you didn't recognise his brother's name because you were too busy with your own preparation every race weekend to watch the support series but you took his word for it.

"yeah, i'm really glad he's made it this far. we didn't have much money for karting when he was just starting out but we managed to make it work."

you were all too familiar with the struggles of funding and putting together enough sponsors just to make it through the season. there were already very few people getting into motorsport and the high costs didn't help. you had seen too many young talents drop out because they just couldn't afford it anymore. you were one of the lucky ones to secure a place in the ferrari driver academy and have their money to fall back on.

realising you were getting closer and closer to your car, you slowed down in hopes you could keep talking to charles for longer.

"so, why ferrari? it's a team with lots of history but we haven't won a championship since 2008." you asked with no ill intentions.

you really were just interested seeing as the team was currently the laughing stock amongst the grid and the fans - which you didn't blame them for. they had thrown away several chances of a championship with some of the most talented drivers, purely due to their own inability to perform when it was needed most.

"that doesn't matter to me. i've supported ferrari since i was little so it wasn't even a question which team i wanted to join. i remember i used to always follow the red car when they raced at monaco even before i knew it was a ferrari. anyone who has the chance to be a part of ferrari, would take that chance, no? i've barely started here but there's something special about being a part of ferrari." he explained with a look in his eyes that you could only imagine was the same wonder that appeared when watching the red ferrari of kimi räikkönen speed around his home track.

"what about you? you're the one who actually drives for ferrari so what made you sign with them?"

you stopped upon reaching your car neatly tucked inside the white lines.

"ah, i would love to tell you but i do have to get home."

charles' smile fell before he agreed, making his own excuses about his neighbours complaining of his late night ruckus he caused. both of you were disappointed at the fact you couldn't just keep talking for hours but you had another idea up your sleeve.

"but i would be happy to have dinner with you tomorrow to continue this conversation if you're free? if you want to join me that is! you don't have to."

"no, no i want to! that would be great! here's my number. i'll pick you up at 7?"

his initial plans of acting casual around you had been thrown out the window and he was already wishing for time to go faster. you couldn't help but smile at his eagerness - it was a change from your usually soulless dates who treated you like arm candy.

"great! thank you, charles, really. i haven't been this optimistic about an upcoming season in a while but you've already made me excited for the future, even though we just met. i have a feeling we're going to enjoy a lot of victories together." you admitted honestly.

you hadn't been completely happy with any of your seasons with the scuderia so far, always hungry for more despite exceeding the expectations of many.

"thank you, that's the biggest compliment i could receive. i have no doubt we can bring the team many wins."

the 2023 season went on to be one of your best performances in a time where red bull dominance was ever growing. although the championship was not quite in your firm grasp just yet, you had come closer than ever with the help of new management and, more importantly, charles. this was simply the beginning for you two.

"hey charles?" you called out looking up from your phone screen to find him pulling on his race suit.

"yes, mon ange?" he replied turning to face you sitting on the tiny bed.

even though you two had been dating for years, him and his pet names never failed to fluster you.

"do you think we're soulmates in every universe?" you asked after seeing the tik tok trend appear on your phone.

you weren't really expecting a serious answer from charles. you knew it was a silly theory but you decided to entertain the thought. however it seemed that charles had a different idea.

"maybe, maybe not. i'd like to think we are but even if we're not, that doesn't matter. what matters is that we're together in this one, no? besides, even if we weren't destined to be together, i'd still find you and choose you in every universe." he voiced casually, placing a soft kiss on your forehead while looking around the room for his racing boots.

his confessions of undying love to you had become a daily occurrence and it was always certain his words would make your heart melt.

"you've seen the trend, haven't you?" you questioned him. there was no way he had just come up with that answer on the spot.

"what trend? mon amour, you know i am not on social media as much as you are."

"the tik tok trend! are you sure you haven't seen it?"

"yes, i am very sure, mon ange. come on, i don't need to see a tik tok to tell you that i will always choose you."

you didn't fully believe him but you also knew that he was a terrible liar, his facial expressions giving him away no matter what with each attempt made.

"come here. one last good luck kiss for me?" he asked with a pleading look you could never deny and pulled you from the bed by your arms.

"of course, my love. i want you back safe in one piece, ok?" you held his face in your hands and placed a delicate kiss on his forehead, nose, each cheek and finally, his lips.

"anything for you."

[cogentranting]

In The Marvels there's a vulnerability to Carol that we don't really get in her earlier appearances. There's a few glimpses of it in Captain Marvel, but not much, and it's certainly not visible in Endgame (not as a fault of that movie, she's just not very close to the center of that movie). But I find the exploration of that in this movie really appealing.

You have this woman who is incredibly capable, incredibly powerful, and generally very self-sufficient. And you see the way that over the years that's worn her down. She's the mighty Captain Marvel-- one of the most powerful people in the galaxy. And she's absorbed that view of herself, that that is who she needs to be all the time. She needs to carry it all, to fix it all.

As Captain Marvel that's meant that she works alone and she's always off to fix a new problem. More importantly, it led to her nearly disastrous decision to destroy the Supreme Intelligence, and from there to an inability to directly confront that failure (tactically or emotionally) or to accept help in fixing it.

As Carol, it's cut her off from anyone else except a few carefully distanced professional friendships-- she is friends with Fury, and Valkyrie, and Yan, but there's also a coolness there, and with all we're given the impression that she keeps them at arm's length and only comes around when necessary. And again its created an even bigger problem-- she stayed away from Maria until Maria was dying, and never came back to Monica at all.

It's never directly connected for us in the movie, but there's a pretty clear connection here back to the first movie. That careful distance wasn't present with Yon-Rogg. With him she was playful, open, she'd come to his room in the middle of the night. She trusted him. And she was utterly betrayed. He used her, trapped her, manipulated her, stole her life and her memories, tried to kill her. And back then, she only regained her identity when she broke free from him. That experience has made her wary.

But she's also just off-balance. Her memories were taken and she still hasn't fully gotten them back, so she's unsteady in those old relationships. And she's indestructible and powerful but it does her no good in dealing with actual relationships. She meets a problem that she can't punch or blast, and her flight instinct kicks in.

So when The Marvels starts out, those years of being alone and trying to be Atlas carrying the world on her back, have left her shaky. She's scared to talk to Monica. When she does come face to face with Monica, and Monica initially rejects her, Carol visibly shrinks. In dealing with Dar Benn, she's running scared--not scared of Dar Benn, but scared of failing again or messing things up more, and it makes her impulsive, and causes her to push away Monica and Kamala. And it's all a vulnerability that she covers up with cockiness and bravado. She doesn't show people that vulnerability. Instead she shows them the invincible Captain Marvel who can fly into suns and move planets.

And this movie uses the power-switching to handcuff her to two other people to force her out of that destructive pattern of total self-reliance and running from being close to anyone. It physically will not let her run away from Monica and Kamala, and it turns her attempts to do things by herself against her.

Kamala is there to model for Carol a sort of emotional openness that she hasn't known in a long time (if ever). Her heart is all the way out on her sleeve and Carol needs to see that. When Monica discusses her mom's death, Kamala literally shows Carol what to do on the simplest level by hugging Monica and forcing Carol into that hug. And it matters that Kamala is a child doing this, because that simplicity is key. Carol doesn't need to FIX the situation, and Kamala isn't burdened by that mindset. Kamala can approach with this childlike openness and simplicity, not overcomplicating it by trying to find the perfect thing to say or do, and it turns out that's all Carol needs to do too. And so simple hugs become incredibly powerful in this movie because it's just about being willing to be there with some and to hold them, and in the end Carol gives that back to Kamala when they hug after losing Monica.

And for her part, Monica models to Carol that you can be strong and part of a team. Monica has grown up and become a captain and become a superhero. She's incredibly capable. And also very very comfortable working as part of a team. So despite her tension with Carol, she's able to bring that easy team dynamic to the group and get Carol to embrace the team instead of being hampered by it.

Once Carol is able be at ease with being vulnerable, once she can open herself up to others, once she can share her burdens, that's when she finally is able to come home to Earth after nearly 40 years.

[waratah-vroom]

Good Vibes (ms47)

Liked by yourusername, schumiangel and 485,208 others f1: Haas will not be renewing their contract with Mick Schumacher for the 2023 season. There is currently no word on the German driver's future on the grid for next year.

yourusername: 😇😇😇 ↳ ms47fangirl: gurl what does this mean???

haassucks: Glad to see Schumacher leaving that toxic work environment. Hopefully he finds somewhere better.

guentherhater: FINALLY! He deserves so much more than fucking Steiner.

f1wags: aw I'm going to miss yourusername's petty stories hating on Guenther

mercedesamgf1 and mickschumacher

Liked by georgerussell63, f1 and 1,482,405 others mercedesamgf1: signed ✍️ We are happy to announce our 2023 reserve driver, mickschumacher!

yourusername: Looking good in black baby 🖤 ↳ mickschumacher: 💕

lewishamilton: Welcome to the team, mate!

jackdoohan: Congrats brother 💪

gina_schumacher: We're all so proud Mick

Tagged: mickschumacher Liked by estebanocon, schumiangel and 17,482 others yourusername: Well deserved break with my boy ❄️

jackdoohan: I can't believe you chose snow over coming to the beach with me 😠 ↳ yourusername: we land in Australia next week!

gina_schumacher: Did he manage to get off the lift without faceplanting? ↳ yourusername: 🤐 ↳ mickschumacher: Stop giving her ideas, Hase! That happened once gina_schumacher and I was 12.

“You seem happy.”

Mick sighed contently, his head resting on your lap as the two of you stretched out in front of the fire. Snow was falling outside the large windows, but you were nice and toasty wrapped up in a blanket with your furnace of a boyfriend in your arms.

“I am happy. I’m with you. Alone in the mountains with no one to bother us.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, but that wasn’t what you meant. “I meant in general. You seem happier than you were last month. More relaxed.”

He rolled over so his blue eyes met yours, his lower lip between his teeth. “You mean since Haas fired me.”

“Baby,” you fought off the eye roll. “If they hadn’t fired you, you would have quit.”

“I wouldn’t have-”

“You should have. They treated you like shit.”

“At least I was on the grid.”

“But was it worth it?” He was silent. You’d been having a version of this conversation since 2021. “Was it really worth being blamed for their failure just so you could drive?”

He leant back into your hand that was scratching his head, almost cat-like as his eyes fluttered closed. “I guess not.”

“And if you hadn’t left, you wouldn’t have been given the opportunity that you have now at Mercedes.”

“I know, I just hate when you’re right.”

“I’m right all the time.”

“Yeah and I hate it,” he opened one eye, a grin spreading across his face.

“Fine, if you hate it so much I won’t show you the new things I bought from Agent Provocateur.”

“Wait, don’t they make lingerie?” You didn’t respond, picking your phone up from next to you and opening instagram. “Hase? They make lingerie, right?” You could see the desperation on his face from the corner of your eyes and couldn’t help the small smile edging its way on your lips. “Baby, I’m sorry, you know I was joking. Come on, you have to show me what you bought. Please? I’ll do anything.”

That piqued your interest. He rarely needed to beg you as you usually gave in straight away, so this was a nice change. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

Liked by ms47fangirl, schumiangel and 340,274 others mercedesamgf1: Mick's first visit to Brackley as our official reserve driver!

micklover: can't wait to see him do a test drive!

yourusername: I know I shouldn't be thirsting over my boyfriend in his workplace's insta comments but 🥵 ARMS ↳ f1wags: where's the lie tho

yourusername: p.s I'm so happy to have my smiley boy back 🥰 Liked by mercedesamgf1

Liked by gina_schumacher, carmenmmundt and 20,382 others yourusername: It's race week so here's your regularly scheduled wag content ✨ Also thanks Mercedes - this was the first race in a long time I didn't get heartburn!

mercedesamgf1: Glad we could give you a stress free weekend 👍 Liked by yourusername & mickschumacher

mickschumacher: 🐰 Liked by yourusername

schumiangel: it's giving merc girlie ↳ yourusername: nah I'm a mick girlie 💕 ↳ micklover: shut the fuck up that is the cutest answer

read more of my writing here.

Made to order for @alilstressyandlotdepressy for my perfume collection xx

ﾟ｡ ⋆ mags' radio: this one was short and sweet bc i didn't have much inspiration. I was originally intending for this to be a steiner hate piece but i've seen so many of those around that i couldn't think of anything that hadn't already been said. I have plans for a Mick x Wolff!reader miniseries and a Vettel!reader miniseries, as well as a cute little smutty prequel to Green Thumb. If you're interested in my future stuff join my taglist! ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡

taglist: @fulla02reads @flowerchild-96 @camillalarke @cool-ultra-nerd @azxulaa @booksobsess @formulakay3 @moonvr @chonkybonky @peachiicherries @toalltheboyswhowastedmytime @lilacsimps @love4lando @lunnnix @cinderellawithashoe @ferrariloverr @chasing-liberosis @mickslover @noncannonships

[scarthefangirl]

Kiss me you moron!

Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Description: When you are injured during a mission Miguel waits in your room for you to wake up. After you do, there are some confessions made.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, language

Story type: drabble

A/N: Bruh I wrote this in one night don't judge, and also I'm working on my requests I promise

Masterlist | REQUESTS OPEN

The mission was simple. Some guy had disrupted this dimension and caused a bridge to collapse and some other havoc. You, Jess, Pavitr, and Hobie had been assigned to apprehend the man while Gwen, Peter B, and Miles helped get people to safety.

You were on a roll, until you weren't.

It all happened so fast, you didn't have a chance to move out of the way. Everyone was so engulfed with saving the people from the threat, even you. No one noticed the car flying towards you at full speed, the driver passed out with his foot on the gas.

At least, not until it was too late.

So there you laid, in the headquarters infirmary, still knocked out. You had a bandage on the right side of your forehead because of a stitched wound. There were stitches in your right arm as well where there had been shards of glass stuck in your arm. You had broken two ribs, and a fractured hip bone that luckily didn't need surgery because of your quickened healing process.

Meanwhile, your team stood outside Miguel's office with bated breath.

"How do we tell him?" Miles asked quietly, eyes filled with anxiety.

"What's the big deal?" Jess questions. Unlike her, the others new his infatuation with you. He always spared her from his glares and scowls, when he would scream at them for failures he never yelled directly at you, and he tried to send you out on as few missions as you'd allow. When you persisted to go, he'd always be extra persistent to the group about watching out for each other.

"Miguel is in love with her!" Pav whisper shouted. Jess just rolled her eyes, although it made a few things click.

"We're going to be professional and tell him that Y/N was involved in an accident and we'll explain it to him," Peter said, trying to be practical. But everyone's eyes widened and they shook their heads violently.

"No no no. Ask any spider person here if that is a good idea. Its not," Gwen said which surprised Jessica because Gwen is normally reasonable. The adult looked around at the teens fearful eyes, except Hobie of course who couldn't wait to see how things played out.

"Why is it a bad idea?" Jessica asked, mainly to humor the bunch.

"He'd freak. He'd probably kill us. No, he would. He will blame us and," Pavitr shivered, unable to finish his sentence. He loved you and everyone knew it. And you loved him, but they didn't know that. Although it could be assumed, and many did, you were better at hiding it then Miguel.

Jessica forced the group inside and they approached Miguel. He turned to them with a frown, one often plastered on his face. "How was the mission?" He asked dryly. His red eyes scowered the faces in his office but didn't see the one he was waiting for.

"We completed it, but there was a complication." Jessica informed him, causing his chest to tighten. If you weren't there, and there was a complication.... He raised an eyebrow, encouraging her to continue. "Y/N was, hurt."

Rage.

They all saw it as clear as day. Anger crawled up his throat and spread across his face. His stomach felt nauseous and he couldn't catch his breath.

"How?" He growled. His hands shook. He hated that feeling. Feeling helpless and.... Scared. It only made him angrier.

"Well we were all just doing our jobs and a car came out of nowhere and hit her." Peter B. said.

"It full on slammed her, you could hear it!" Hobie gawked.

"Not helping Hobie." Miles warned but Hobie just said, "Good." The fury radiated off of Miguel and causes the whole team to cower back. He'd never been this angry.

But instead of screaming at them he just sprinted to the infirmary.

~

Your eyes fluttered open and you went to rub them but felt sharp pain everywhere. You blinked a few times to clear your vision and looked down at your wounded body.

"The heck?" You muttered under your breath. You couldn't remember what happened. You just remembered being on the mission. Suddenly you heard heavy breathing to your side and you looked over to see Miguel staring at you. You nearly jumped out of your skin, resulting in a groan from the pain. He hopped out of his seat and crouched by your head. He tucked some stray hair behind your ear but you gave him a confused look.

"Three questions," You began, "Number one: What happened? Number two: Why are you here? And most importantly, number three, why the fuck are you doing scaring the shit out of me like that?"

"Sorry for scaring you. You got hit by a car and fractured your hip bone, and had to get stitches in a few places because of glass. But the nurses said you'll be better in a few days because of your enhanced healing capabilities." Miguel said it blankly, but you sensed the tenderness behind it.

"That's kinda badass," You grinned. "I mean imagine telling our- shit, I mean, my future kids that I got whammed by a car. Wait- what kind of car?" You quickly tried to recover from saying 'our kids', hoping he didn't notice. He did, however, and completely lost focus, gaping at you. You felt your cheeks inflamed with scarlet humiliation.

"Huh? Oh um, I- I don't know. No pregunté, lo siento." [I didn't ask, sorry] He seemed to be in a trance of some sort, taken off guard.

"Well, that's okay. I just hope it was a cool car. I would rather be able to say 'I got hit by a brand new Corvette' than having to say 'Yeah I got ran over by a Kia soul.' You know?" You ranted awkwardly, truing to lighten the mood.

"Mhm." Was all he hummed in response, still staring off in a daze. You wished you could hide under the sheets until he left. He sat back down in the chair a few feet from the bed and watched you. You felt your stomach churning under his gaze.

"Miguel?" You asked.

"¿Sí?" [Yes?] He looked you in the eyes and you looked into his.

"You didn't answer question number 2." You stated. You wanted to turn your whole body but could only move your head without pain.

There was complete silence for what felt like eternity. You picked at the itchy white sheet over your legs and stared at your fumbling hands. Maybe you had overstepped, but you were sick of you and Miguel tip toeing around the subject of your feelings. He obviously liked you, at least, you hoped he did.

"When they told me you were hurt... I've never been so terrified in my life." He admitted, meeting your eyes once more. You were challenged to match his at first, but you forced yourself to stare back at his red eyes.

Miguel O'Hara terrified. For you no less.

You didn't know what to say. Thank you? I'm fine? You don't have to be here? Nothing seemed right. Before you knew it, words were slipping out of your mouth.

"I'm in love with you." You said then dropped your jaw, turning your red face forward and refusing to look at him. Did you really just say what he thinks you said? Did I really just say what I think I said?

Maybe it was because of his silence. Maybe it was because you wee hoping to admit your love somewhere more romantic. Maybe it was because he hadn't said anything to lead to this response. But you were mortified. You felt tears brimming in your eyes, the cause being a mixture of pain and embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, that just sorta slipped." You glance at him for a moment then quickly look forward again. He's so beautiful.

"Its okay." He immediately regretted saying that. It's okay? What does that even mean? Both of you thought in unison. He wanted to tell you he was in love with you too but while he was trying to think of how to say it, the others came in.

"Hey!! Great to see you awake Y/N, we were just coming to check on you." Jess said, then glanced at the looks on you and Miguel's faces and felt out of place. "Are we- interrupting?"

"No," You managed, not sparing Miguel a glance. Gwen gave you a side hug on your good side and the rest of the team stood at the end of the bed. Miguel shifted uncomfortably in his seat and let a scowl rest on his face. You swear he'd scowl no matter how happy he was,, only now he wasn't happy. He wasn't displeased with you, but with himself.

"We're so glad you're gonna be okay," Miles smiled sweetly.

"Thank you," You wanted desperately to get your mind of Miguel. 'I probably look like shit." You chuckled uneasily.

"You look fine." Miguel musters. You can't help the butterflies that erupt at his statement, much to your dismay.

"So, one question." You chose to ignore Miguel, scared to cry. Everyone looks at you, encouraging you to continue. "What kind of car was it?"

"A Honda civic." Hobie stifled a laugh.

"Damn, I was hoping for something cool." You rolled your eyes. Everyone chuckled but there was a looming tension in the room and they didn't need spider sense to feel it.

"Right well, we should head out. We'll check on you later Y/N," Peter smiled and patted your good leg.

"Sorry you got hurt, we'll be more careful next time!" Miles called on his way out, but you assumed it was more to please Miguel than you. The door shut and without missing a beat Miguel immediately stated,

"I'm in love with you too." You beamed after he said this, look over at him.

"I know this isn't the best time, but come kiss me you moron!" You laughed. He quickly obliged, walking to you and leaning over the bed to press a soft kiss on your lips. The corner of your mouth was cut but you couldn't care less, happy to finally kiss him. He deepened the kiss slightly, but you couldn't do much because if your injuries.

"MY EYES!!! I NEED TO BLEACH MY EYES!!!" Hobie screamed after having walked in on the scene. You laughed into the kiss and pulled away, breathless.

You watched Miguel's face, tracing every detail into memory. You weren't exactly sure where this left you guy's relationship, but you felt an ache in your chest from how happy you were.

You noticed the glimpse of sadness in Miguel eyes and ask him if he's alright. He just holds your hand, looking at your slightly swollen (but still beautiful) face. "For a second I thought I'd lost you, when they came in without you," he paused briefly before whispering, "I can't lose you."

"I'm not going anywhere. A few broken bones and some cuts aren't going to be enough to keep me away from you."

~

Tags: // @liliummz // @themarvelprince // @misselsbells06 // @american-sataness // @cr0ssoverf4n4tic // @depressednoob // @cerene-ciderr // @leighanne03 // @inluvwithfictionalwomen // @singhfae // @mythixmagic // @itsyourboymicheal // @Ravensinthedaylight //

Join my taglist!

[twinklelilstarkey]

Tutor: A Plan

Words: 4k+ Type: Angst (I guess?) Summary: The girls have a plan. Warnings: Fem!Reader. The angst isn't between Y/N and Rafe, you can breathe. Rafe isn't nice. The girls are annoying. Slight mention of alcohol and drugs (and being drunk). BUZZCUT IS HERE, BABY!

Tutor Masterlist

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

They aren’t sure why or how, but they cannot find you. The girls have put at the top of their priority list to talk to you as soon as they laid their eyes on you. They just didn’t expect it to not be able to do it for an entire week.

You did go to school and class, but it was as if you had disappeared into thin air as soon as the bell rang.

The girls did watch you when they could. Their eyes would scan throughout your body as you would walk into class with your usual dresses. And they would never find any bruising or a look on your face that could mean you needed to talk to someone. You were just there, in class, taking notes and sometimes looking at your phone under the desk.

They remember clearly how, for the entirety of the week, they would hear the bell ring, and you would just swiftly grab your stuff with your bag thrown over your shoulder and would just disappear into the crowd with a blink of an eye.

You would never be at the cafeteria or near your locker during lunch. One of the girls even checked the bathrooms, but they never found you. It got to a point where, on Thursday (just two days ago), they stopped by your house. They knocked at the door, only for no one to answer it.

One of your neighbors eventually appeared from behind their fence, as they had been there watching the whole time.

“Are you girls looking for someone?”

Kristy was sure that every neighbor knew who they were since they had visited your house many times. Yet the neighbors just don’t like to seem as if they know everything about the person that lives beside them - even though they very much do.

“We're looking for our friend!” Kristy would scream back at the neighbor, offering your name to him as well.

“Oh! She’s tutoring today. Her mother told me!”

And that only led to the girls walking back to the car, defeated. They would never find you at this rate, and they know it. 

Still, they did not give up.

Today, on Friday, they did everything they could. They tried to catch you in every class again or at lunch or after school, even when Kristy knew that you tutor on Fridays. It is fair to say that they weren't able to do it. Yet, their failure only led to another idea.

Due to your new friendships, the girls know there will be a larger possibility of them still finding you tonight. And because of exactly that, they searched to know what parties would be happening for the evening.

After knowing all of it, they planned their entire Friday night. Tonight will be the time they will finally get to talk to you.

From their source, there are a total of 5 parties tonight as school is just about to end, and some seniors care more about their beer than their finals.

Three parties belong to the Pogues, which they automatically scratched from any possibility of you being there with Rafe Cameron. And the other two are from the usual kook party planners. They had decided on where to go first and had everything planned out.

They all met up at Kristy’s house and got ready there. They had to wait for time to pass for a bit, as they didn’t want to get to the party too early or else there would be a possibility of spooking you away. 

When out of the house, they got to their first party fairly quick. There were so many cars at the front they knew there wouldn't be a problem hiding in the crowd. And before they went in, they split up to search for you throughout the party individually. 

The music was deafening due to how loud it was. There was smoke throughout the house due to all the sweet indoor smoking and tables which Kristy hated to find. All the tables were filled with all sorts of kooks, hovering over a small pile of powder, which only made her try to find you even harder.

All throughout the search, the possibility of you being home resurfaced time and time again, but Kristy pulled through. In a way, she did not want to find you a party at all. Kristy wanted you away from these tables and all the eating-face couples she had to elbow out to get through the crowd. She ignored all the guys that handed her out drinks as she passed through the kitchen and eventually found herself in the backyard without sight of you or your friends.

“Did you see her?” One of the girls asked.

“No.”

They waited for every other girl to appear. Kristy analyzed their faces before they could even say if they found you or anyone. They were always disappointed as they walked out, and in some way, that made Kristy feel calmer as the possibility of you being home grew and grew.

“Maybe we should stay and wait up in case they get here late.” One of the girls said to all of them, and they agreed.

Minutes went by, and Kristy checked the time on her phone every few seconds. She watched as the girls went in and out of the house again to try and find you, but with no luck. It must have been an hour into it that Kristy decided it was time to move along to the next party.

The next party would be much harder, and they all knew that before even going in.

It was supposed to be a small party that not all kooks knew about, and here they were: A group of girls who weren't personally invited and probably didn't know a soul inside that house.

The girls talked inside the car about the best strategy to follow. They thought of the possibility that they could go inside one at a time, yet they had no idea how small the party was. What if they went inside, and everyone just looked at them? What would they do then?

By the time minutes passed and no one had moved, Kristy jumped out of the car and went inside the house. Sure, her heart was almost jumping out of her chest, but she still did it. The girls watched her walk up the porch and open the unlocked front door.

Inside, there were a lot more people than Kristy expected. It was much smaller than the party before, but there are still around 30 people all throughout the house.

The music, this time, is much softer, and people aren’t screaming and spilling drinks everywhere.

Kristy closes the door behind herself and walks towards what she assumes would be the kitchen, trying her best to act natural and as if she knows what she’s doing. She pushes the door open and finds herself in the kitchen, but not by herself. Kelce, a known friend of Rafe Cameron and Topper Thornton, is standing right by the counter, mixing up his own drink.

She assumes it is due to the time that she simply stood there watching him because Kelce looks up at her after a few silent seconds and stops mixing the liquid in his cup.

“Can I help you with anything?” He asked. His tone isn't too condescending, but definitely confused.

“Oh, no,” Kristy says, quickly snapping awake from her state of shock. “Sorry. I was just a little too focused on my own thoughts.”

She smiles at him, and Kelce simply does the grin one does to not seem rude. He picks up his drink and is ready to leave when an idea strikes Kristy.

“Wait!” She says right as he’s about to walk out through the door. “I actually do need help with something.”

Kelce turns to politely give the strange girl his attention and awaits her next words.

“Do you happen to know someone by the name of Patty?” Kristy asks, not exactly knowing how she remembered the name in the first place.

“Patty as in Patricia?” Kelce asks, sipping his drink in the pause, “That Patty?”

Kristy weighed down her options in a panic. What is she supposed to say? What if it is not Patricia and some random person that has that nickname?

“Yes, her,” Kristy says with another smile.

“Yeah, I know her.” 

Kristy looks at Kelce in silence, awaiting him to say something more, but all he does is look back at her and take another sip of his drink. Through the awkwardness, Kristy tries to make everything seem normal and her to seem collected and not insane in any way.

“Uh… Do you know if she’s here?” She points down to the ground, symbolizing the party.

“I saw her a while back, yeah. Not sure where she went.”

Kristy jumps at the opportunity, “So, she was at this party.”

“Yes,” Kelce says slowly, looking at Kristy as if she had gone insane for a second.

“Were her friends here too?”

Kelce eyes Kristy up and down, finding her the most suspicious person he has ever met. He can tell she is somewhat excited about the news, which makes him assume she must know Patty and is trying to meet up with her. But her hesitant tone and lack of names of other friends make him question if she’s even someone known to Patty at all. Can you be someone’s friend without knowing any of their other friends? Especially for someone like Patty?

Kelce decides to test her for it.

“Like who?” 

Kristy tenses up at the question. What if Patty, the girl she now knows you were texting, is just someone you met at a party? Not a friend of Rafe’s or even Kelce’s. Maybe Kelce only knows her name and nothing else. Kristy has to risk it because she knows he is finding her more distrustful by the second.

She begins with the easy name, saying yours first. But all Kelce does is look at her, awaiting more names, “Uh, and Rafe or Topper?” She asks quickly before adding, “Were they here too, by the way?”

Before he could answer, Kristy checks her vibrating phone, noticing the many messages coming from the girls that stayed in the car. All the messages unnecessarily asking her to tell them everything she is seeing. Kristy checks the time, and it is just a few minutes past midnight. Kristy has no idea how much time she has to find you.

“Yeah,” Kelce’s voice makes Kristy look up, “Actually. They left not too long ago. I’m sure Patty was with them when they walked out.”

“Oh, ok.” She says to him.

“Want me to say something to her in case she comes back?” He questions her, watching her every move.

“Oh, no. That is not needed. Thank you,” She says to him with yet another smile. 

Kelce smiles back at her and lifts his drink slightly as his way to say goodbye before leaning his shoulder against the swinging door and disappearing into the party. Kristy looks around the kitchen in defeat. She knows Kelce could’ve lied as he was already finding her weird with all her hums and weird silences, but what is she supposed to do now?

Kristy runs her fingers through her hair and sighs out loud, finding the vibrating of her phone irritating. She turns around and pushes the door of the kitchen open, using the door that faces the other side of the house as an advantage to lose Kelce.

She is quick and discreet with her steps, making her way out of the front door before closing it softly behind her. As she did it, she now thinks back on how she should’ve stayed a little longer to not raise any more suspicions. But it is too late now, leaving her to hope no one saw her.

Her eyes find her car, and through the windshield, she can see the girls’ widened eyes on her. She takes a deep breath before beginning to walk over to them, and, when finally by her door, she opens it right as she gets bombarded with questions.

She begins to explain everything only when she's sitting comfortably in the front seat. The girls listen quietly, never opening their mouths to ask anything until she gets to the end.

“Did he say anything about where they went?”

“No, but I also didn’t want to push him to say it. It was already awful from all the questions I had already made”

“Maybe they went home…?”

“At midnight?” A girl questions the other.

Kristy nods in agreement as they all find it too early for your night to end. The girls talk amongst themselves, thinking of the possibility of you changing parties or going home to hang out. Others said that you all went to get more drinks for the party. But the amount of liquor and convenience stores on the island made the girls give up further in finding you.

They had failed to find you again. If only they had started with this party.

Minutes go by, and the girls finally come to terms with the fact that they are done for the night. Kristy begins to pull away from the house in silence, and the girls all look outside, deep in thought.

“Could we go get something to eat before we go back home?” The girl in the passenger seat asks Kristy, getting the girls’ attention and silent agreement.

“Sure,” Kristy says with a small and sad smile.

The car disappears from the small driveway, and Kelce continues to stare out the window with a frown. With his phone over his ear, he curses himself silently for not even getting the girl's name before she bolted out of his house.

Everything about her seemed wrong. Even when she answered such an easy question correctly, the way the girl got out of the house confirmed it for him. She’s a weirdo.

“We’re almost there,” The voice on the other side of the phone says right as they pick up.

“That’s alright. Just wanted to ask you something,” Kelce says as he looks back at the party, “Do you know a girl with, like, brown and blonde hair?”

Patty laughs drunkenly on the other side of the phone.

“What? Maybe,” She says back to him. “Why?”

“Some girl came into my house asking me about you and then just got out without a word.”

Patty laughs again, finding what he said absolutely ridiculous. Kelce listens as she asks Topper about the girl with highlights, yet the answer is just as negative.

“Do Rafe an-”

“Hold on, let me put you on speaker.” Kelce sighs at Patty.

“Do Rafe and Y/N know her?”

“We don’t know.” Topper answers him.

“Well, can you ask?”

“They’re out of the car.” Topper says, confirming to Kelce that Patty’s ‘almost there’ is really ‘we haven’t even gotten out of the parking lot yet’. 

“Why are you so stressed about it?” Patty asks him.

“Because she was weird…” He comments to her, “And she said all your names when I asked her which friends she wanted me to know about.”

“Know about?”

“Yeah, she wanted to know where you all were. You two, Y/N and Rafe.”

They stay silent on the other side of the line, and Kelce is left to contemplate his own theories on who that girl could be.

“That is weird,” Patty says in a murmur after thinking for a bit.

“I know.”

There are more seconds of silence, and Kelce walks away from the window. He goes around the house, awaiting the two other people on the call to say something else, but they don’t even whisper.

“Is the food almost ready or what?” Kelce asks them.

“We don’t know. Rafe and Y/N went to pick it up,” Patty says to him, “But they’re still at the front. It might take a few more minutes.”

“Alright,” Kelce says as he sits back down with his other friends. “Text me when you’re on your way back.”

“Will do.”

(...)

“I’m hungry.” You groan out loud, leaning back on Rafe as you watch the restaurant’s door.

“I know,” Rafe says, “You’ve told me that many times.”

You turn around and wrap your arms around him, looking up at his face. Rafe stares back at you, at how your every emotion has just been intensified due to the alcohol you’ve consumed tonight - not his fault. Your smile grows as you watch him, and he has to hold himself back from smiling back right away.

“I like the buzz cut.”

“I know,” Rafe repeats himself. “You’ve also said that many times.”

“Good, because it’s true,” You tell him quickly before kissing his lips in a small peck and pulling away from his body. 

You walk over to the restaurant's door again, eyeing the inside as you watch the only people in the open kitchen work their asses off with the usual insane orders on Friday nights. You watch them cut up the ingredients and toss them into a pan on the stove. Rafe watches you as you watch the food, comparing you in his mind to some cartoon with hearty eyes only for food.

He looks over at the car where Patty and Topper are, seeing as Patty holds her phone in the air as she talks to someone, obviously entertained. 

You get back his attention when you step away from the door, and it opens in front of you. A guy holds up a white bag towards you, which makes you grab it, and he notices how drunk you are before deciding to direct his words towards Rafe instead.

“The rest of the food is almost done as well.”

“Thank you,” Rafe says back to him before the man disappears inside the restaurant again.

You walk back over to Rafe as you peek inside the bag, dying to eat anything inside the takeout boxes.

“I’ll take this bag to the car,” You tell him.

“Are you sure you can walk there safely?”

You send him a dramatic look, and his smile appears as you do it.

Even when refusing to let him be right, you walk very careful steps toward Topper’s car. You are very much drunk, but it does feel good to be so after a week of studying for your finals.

A car drives into the parking lot, getting your attention, but as soon as you have a slight difficulty seeing it in the darkness of night, you look away uninterested and get back to careful walking. Patty opens the car's door to welcome the bag of food, and you smile brightly at the equally drunk girl while holding the bag carefully in your hands.

You hand it over to her, and Patty does not even wait to open the first box at the top. Rafe watches from afar and chuckles as the two of you almost fight over one of the forks.

You happily take the fork from Patty’s hand after she has her bite, and you take yours. You practically feel your heart exploding with love for the food.

After swallowing, you take another bite and give the fork back before beginning to walk back to Rafe.

“Was it good?” He questions you.

“What was?”

“You didn’t eat?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” You say with a shrug.

Rafe smiles at you, and you walk back over to him, wrapping your arms around him again. And, in the distance, the girls watch the two of you.

In shock, after they had spent so many hours looking for you, they lay their eyes on you now, and relief hits them before any of the helplessness. You were safe and happy. Yet they cannot reach you now. Not when you're with him.

They are too distracted amongst themselves that they never turn off the car, which does sound suspicious to someone standing in an empty parking lot at night, such as Rafe. He looks over his shoulder to check out the car, half-parked in a spot with the engine running and lights on. And it has been there for some time now.

Due to the lights, Rafe cannot see who could be inside the vehicle, but those in it can see him and what he’s doing clearly.

The girls inside are discussing with each other about their next move, torn between the choice of risking going there while Rafe is right beside you or letting you go and leaving this for another day.

The discussion eventually escalates into arguing, and one of them steps out of the car before the others could reach for her.

The door is slammed closed, and the girl's silhouette appears on the side of the car. Rafe has stopped looking at the strange vehicle since you moved away from him and are now telling him all about your plans for tomorrow.

Kristy, who is still inside the car, realizes that she forgot to turn it off and does it now as they watch their friend approach the couple.

As she gets closer, the door of the restaurant swings open, and a man looks over at you. You grab the plastic bag full of food handed to you, and Rafe pulls out his wallet for the tip.

The girls impatiently watch as you say something to Rafe and begin walking toward a car. By doing that, you unknowingly create a larger distance between you and the approaching girl.

As the girl begins to change route and go toward the car you’re heading to, Rafe turns around to do the same. Yet something stops him, and his eyes go from the girl to the now turned-off vehicle, making every girl freeze on their spot.

He stares as the girl who was casually heading over to his girlfriend now simply stands before him and watches him in return. He looks over at you as you get further away from her with complete innocence. His eyes go back to the car for just another second, and he slides his wallet back into his pocket.

“What?” He asks her plainly.

The girl opens her mouth to speak but then shuts it right back up. Rafe watches her do it, and how her eyes go over to try and find you. You’re too distracted talking to Patty to even notice her.

“We want to talk to Y/N,” She forces herself to say.

“She’s busy,” He says before pointing towards the car, “Having dinner.” 

The girl stays quiet.

“Care to leave a message?”

Her silence is enough of an answer.

Rafe begins to move, and the girl turns towards Kristy's car. Anger is boiling underneath her skin as she looks over her shoulder, watching as you turn around to face Rafe. Your smiles and high-pitched voice as you excitedly speak to him. All while completely unaware of what has happened.

It doesn't take much of a thought to know that Rafe will never tell you, drunk or sober, what has happened and who has wished to speak to you. And that only angers the girl further.

She hops back inside her car and shuts the door behind her. No one dares to ask her what happened or what he said, so they sit silently and look outside.

Rafe opens the car door for you and lets you hop in as they watch. And before he goes in with you, he makes sure to have another look at the car and the girls inside it.

Rafe is a meany, y'all.

I know it wasn't much, but I hope you enjoyed this <3

[deliciousangelfestival]

Harmony of Hearts || Bucky Barnes

Character: Bucky x SHIELD!Reader

Summary: A new SHIELD agent with a troubled past struggles to escape the shadows that haunt her. Understanding her pain, Bucky becomes a steadfast companion, offering support and encouragement.

Theme: Fluff, Slice of Life, Heart-Warming.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my follower @winterwitch-trash. Life's journey often takes us through challenging times. You are stronger than you know, and I believe in your ability to overcome. Keep moving forward, and know that brighter days are ahead. To all my followers and readers, Happy New Year 2024! Wishing you a year filled with joy, success, and beautiful moments. Here's to new beginnings, shared stories, and the coming year's endless possibilities. Cheers to growth, laughter, and the adventures that await. 🎉🌟

Within the bustling corridors of SHIELD, Y/N navigated the ebb and flow of her new life. The camaraderie among her colleagues provided a sense of belonging, yet there were moments when the shadows of her past cast a subtle veil over her determination.

One evening, after a demanding mission, Bucky approached her with a reassuring smile. "You held your ground out there, Y/N. Impressive."

A grateful smile graced her lips. "Thanks, Bucky. But sometimes, it feels like my past is a shadow I can't escape."

Understanding flickered in Bucky's eyes. "I've been down that road. You're not alone now. We're a team."

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N faced challenges that tested her resilience. Bucky, a steadfast presence, offered encouragement and shared his own experiences of triumph over inner demons. He reminded her that strength flourished in vulnerability.

Strolling through the helicarrier's corridors one day, Y/N confessed, "Finding someone who gets it is rare."

Bucky chuckled warmly. "Life surprises you, and you're one of the good surprises, Y/N."

Rooftop conversations became a haven where words flowed freely, carried away by the night breeze. It was during one of these moments that Y/N, vulnerability in her gaze, expressed gratitude.

"You make the load feel lighter," she admitted.

Bucky's response was a reassuring smile. "We're in this together, Y/N."

Struggles persisted, and Y/N found herself wrestling with the demons of her past in moments of solitude. Despite her efforts, the haunting echoes threatened to undermine her progress. Bucky, keenly observant, noticed the subtle changes in her demeanor.

In the helicarrier's kitchen, shared meals became a ritual of companionship. Bucky, sensing her struggles, became an unwavering pillar of support.

However, the weight of her past sometimes proved too heavy, and Y/N's attempts to articulate her pain often ended in frustrated silences.

"You're trying too hard to carry it all alone," Bucky gently remarked one evening, his eyes reflecting concern.

Y/N sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I just don't want to burden anyone."

Bucky shook his head, "We're a team, remember? You're not a burden, Y/N. Let us help carry the load."

Despite her efforts to make it work, Y/N found herself grappling with feelings of inadequacy. In the face of mission failures or personal setbacks, she retreated into a self-imposed isolation, convinced that her struggles were a testament to her perceived shortcomings.

One day, as they walked through the helicarrier's corridors, Bucky gently nudged her shoulder. "You're not defined by your mistakes, Y/N. You're defined by how you rise from them."

His words lingered, sinking into the recesses of her heart. Y/N realized that her journey toward healing wasn't a straight path. It was a maze of ups and downs, and Bucky was there, a guiding presence in the labyrinth of her uncertainties.

As they faced new challenges, Y/N's struggles persisted, but so did Bucky's unwavering support. In moments of doubt, he became the anchor that steadied her, the voice of reason that countered the whispers of self-criticism.

One evening, after a particularly trying mission, Y/N again found herself on the rooftop. Instead of bearing the weight alone this time, she turned to Bucky with a vulnerability that transcended words.

He listened, not with judgment but with a genuine understanding that only someone who had walked a similar path could provide.

"You don't have to have it all figured out, Y/N," Bucky reassured her. "We're all works in progress. And you're doing better than you think."

As the helicarrier hummed with activity around them, Y/N felt a shift within herself. Bucky's support, coupled with the realization that she didn't have to navigate the journey alone, infused her with a renewed sense of resilience.

Their friendship, born amidst struggles, became a testament to the transformative power of genuine connection. Y/N's path, once marked by solitary footsteps, now had the imprint of a companion who shared both the highs and lows.

In their shared moments, amidst laughter and shared vulnerabilities, Y/N discovered that the journey toward healing wasn't a destination to reach but a continual growth process.

With Bucky by her side, the echoes of her past became softer, replaced by the harmonious notes of a friendship that thrived in the face of adversity.

And so, within the heart of SHIELD, where the complexities of duty met the warmth of camaraderie, Y/N and Bucky continued navigating life's intricacies.

Their friendship, a symphony of shared struggles and unwavering support, played on a melody that resonated with the promise of brighter tomorrows.

-end-

Author Note :

Hey friends,

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