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#when i started reading i actually had the thought of like
dduane · 20 hours
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I just received a copy of a book I've been very much looking forward to by a favorite author, but the quality of the book itself is... not great. Cheap paper, weak binding, even a weird illustration of the main character on the cover that I'm having trouble believing the author approved. Obviously, I don't want to leave a bad review on Amazon or GoodReads or anywhere, as I'm 100% certain the content is as excellent as her other work. But how can I best let the publisher (Baen) know I'm disappointed without threatening to never buy her books again? Because, well, if this is the only option, I'm gonna keep buying them even in my disappointment.
Well, the first thing I thought when I read this was "Wow, I'm really glad I don't have anything in print from Baen at the moment except a couple of anthologized short stories." :)
As for the rest of it, let's take it point by point.
Adding a cut here, because this will run a bit long. Caution: contains auctorial bitching and moaning, painful illustrations of cases in point, and brief advice on how to complain most effectively. (Also links to paintings of cats.)
Cheap paper: This has been an accurate complaint since well before COVID—and it's often been worse since, with supply chain issues also being involved. That said: one way publishers routinely save money on printing books, especially the bigger ones, is by going for thinner/cheaper paper. I remember one of our UK editors going on at great length and with huge annoyance—during one of those late-night convention-bar bitch sessions—over how the only way they could get some really good books published (because Upstairs insisted on reducing the per-copy production costs) was by reducing the paper quality to the point where you could nearly read through it. Sacrificing decent text size(s) also became part of this. Nobody in editorial was happy about the result: but there wasn't much they could do.
Bad bindings: Similar problem. Sewn bindings used to be a thing in paperbacks... but not any more: not for a good while, now. These days, it's all glue. Even hardcovers are showing up glued rather than sewn. Don't get me started. :/ (This is why I so treasure some of the oldest paperbacks I've acquired, which are actually sewn.)
Crap covers: I've had my share of these—though my share of some really good ones, too. And one of the endless frustrations of traditional publishing is that the writer routinely has little or even no influence over what the cover will look like... let alone how much will be spent on it, or (an often-related issue) how good the execution will be.
There are of course exceptions. If you're working at the, well, @neil-gaiman -esque level or similar in publishing, a lot more attention is going to be paid to your thoughts. You may even be able to get "cover veto" written into your contracts, so that if you disapprove, changes will get made. But without actual contractual stipulations, the writer has zero legal recourse or way to withhold approval. (And I bet even Neil has some horror stories.)
The normal workflow looks like this. After a book's purchased, its editor and the art director discuss what it's about and what the cover should look like. The art director then hires an artist and tells them what to do. After that, the artist executes their vision and gets paid. It is incredibly rare for a writer to have any significant input into this process. And as to whether or not they approve of the final result, well... the publisher mostly just shrugs and goes back to eyeing the bottom line, muttering "Who told them they get a vote?"
Now, I've been seriously lucky to occasionally be an exception in this regard. In particular, my editors at Harcourt (when Jane Yolen and Michael Stearns were editing Harcourt's Magic Carpet YA imprint) would ask me what I thought would be a good idea for the next Young Wizards cover, and I'd think about it a bit and send them back a paragraph or so about some core scene. They'd then talk to their art director, and after that send their notes and mine to Cliff Nielsen (who started doing the covers for the hardcover and mass-market paperback editions of the series in the mid-90s) or to Greg Swearingen (who was the artist on the digest-format editions). And the results, by and large, were pretty good. ...I also think affectionately of the UK artist Mick Posen, who insisted on seeing pictures of our cats before painting the covers for the Hodder editions of The Book of Night with Moon and On Her Majesty's Wizardly Service (the UK title for To Visit The Queen).
But this kind of treatment is a courtesy—not even vaguely suggested in the books' contracts, and very much the exception to the rule. And for every writer who's midlist, there are times when the luck runs out. For example: one time I wrote a book that was an AU-Earth-near-future fantasy police procedural, thematically pretty dark—dealing with issues of abuse of megacorporate power, institutionalized bigotry, and (explicitly) attempted genocide. And the cover, done by an artist who's a good friend and some of whose fabulous art hangs in our house, came out looking like this. It was... let's just say "not ideally representative."
So I was glad, when my local workflow allowed it, to recover the current, revised version of the book with something at least a little more apropos. But the original cover's not the artist's fault. He did what the art director told him... as a cover artist must do to get paid, and (ideally) to get hired again. At present, that's how the system works.
...So. You've got a badly-built and -presented book on your hands. How best to make your feelings known in some way that might make a difference down the line? (As you make it plain that you'll keep buying this author's books this way if you must.)
First of all: when (as part of my psych nursing training) we were taught how to complain most effectively, we were told that the first and most basic rule of the art is this:
Only Complain To Someone Who Can Actually Do Something About Your Problem
So I salute your desire not to waste your time taking the issue to the reviews on Amazon, or the pages of Goodreads... because they can't do anything. The odds that anyone from production at Baen is reading the comments there strike me as... well, not infinitesimally small, not being hit-by-a-meteorite-while-in-the-shopping-center-parking-lot small... but really low.
So: write to corporate.
In your place I would go online and rummage around a bit to find out who's on record as the publisher at Baen. I would then write them a letter on paper. And I would lay out the problem pretty much as you laid it out up at the top.
The tone I think I'd choose would be the more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger approach. I'd say, "I write to comment about your recently published book by [X Writer], whose work I love. I have to say, though, that I don't think the cover on [X Book] is terribly representative of the quality of the prose inside. And also, the construction and production quality of the book itself was a disappointment to me because [here spell out why].
"I'd really like to see [X. Writer's] books succeed with you, and I'd like to buy more of them without wondering whether I was going to be disappointed again. But if this is typical of how they're being produced, I'd also be concerned that the state of these books is setting up a situation in which the author's sales will be damaged, and you would stop publishing them... which would really be a shame. Whereas on the other hand, better production quality could keep previous purchasers coming back and buying, not only more books by this author, but books by others whom you publish."
This phrasing, as you'll have seen, walks a bit wide around the issue of your further purchases, while directing attention toward the bottom line... which will routinely be what the publisher's looking at from day to day. And—being, one has to hope, in possession of the wider picture as regards what's going on with their production costs—maybe they can actually do something about it.
Anyway, nothing ventured, nothing gained, yeah? It's worth a try. All you can do is hope for the best.
And finally: please know that I admire your commitment to the author: whoever she is, she's lucky to have you. It's a terrific thing to have readers who'll willing to spend the time to hunt you down, and who're willing not to judge a book by its cover. :)
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luvvixu · 1 day
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mind over matter pt. 4
synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.
content: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk
a/n: ok, im such a bad author now huhu, i always broke my promises about updating the new chapter :((( should've just wrote in advance but i'm afraid i don't have that enough free time oqsjjanswjaj anyways, here's the anticipated chapter!! THANK YOU FOR Y'ALL PATIENCE <3 MWUHEHEHHEEHHE
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previous / masterlist / next
the next day comes and you've got yourself some visitors. megumi, yuuji, nobara, maki, and inumaki was in your room and they were all seated around you as you talk.
panda and your two third years were not around at the moment because this is a non-sorcerer hospital and people would freak out to see a big ‘talking’ panda. during your two third years, they were out of town and were on a mission but they still text you to get well and even send you some fresh flowers.
“wait, i still can't believe that he's your husband.” nobara couldn't explain his shock at the revelation. out of all, she didn't think that her goofy teacher was someone's husband.
you chuckled at her reactions as you turned your gaze on megumi, who's still his mouth hanging. “megumi, i thought you're getting a hint?” you tease the boy. although it was true, you actually thought he already had an idea because you've known him for almost his entire life and even once lived with you as a kid.
“no…” was only his answer.
“so, gojo-sensei was the one you're talking about when you said that he was a busy man. most of his job requires being out of town. but he never fails to shower you with love and he is making sure that you two would still communicate despite his busy schedule?” your eyes widened when yuuji literally just said what you had said from before, word-by-word!
“i—i supposed he is.” everyone in the room sweat dropped at your answer.
what do you mean you supposed?!
“y/n-sensei, is it okay if we ask your baby?” maki chooses the gentlest approach because she heard that post-pregnancy can make the mother quite crikey, sensitive, and is prone to depression. but to her relief, you respond to her warmly.
“oh, the baby is being treated since they're premature. i really can't wait to meet them once i get better. but right now, shoko was the only one who had seen my baby.” you smiled softly at the thought of your baby.
“gojo-sensei still hadn't seen the baby?” maki’s eyes went wide.
you nodded. “yeah, he said we should go together so i must heal quickly for that to happen.”
the door suddenly opened and it revealed your husband with food in his hand. you smiled at the packages not because you're hungry, but because you had finally persuaded satoru to go out and leave you even for just a few minutes.
how did you do it? well, you just give him an earful after what he did yesterday night and he's like;
“i don't know how you did it but you should've just gone to the convenience store or the hospital canteen just for an oatmeal and eggs. and look, i'm not upset over the fact that you just had the ‘very easy to get’ food delivered on this doorstep. what concerns me is you seem not to trust me very well to handle myself— well in fact i've been doing it since i was a kid and blah, blah, blah, blah…” it was your turn to yap but a little longer than he did. you even probably bought up some of his minor mistakes like not taking out the trash on random sunday night.
and he was like, “i'm sorry. i won’t do it again ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀)”
“y'all done backstabbing me?” satoru teasingly smiled at you all.
“oh, we're just getting started. so why don't you take a seat and hear us out?” you patted the empty space of your bed beside you.
satoru playfully huffed and gave the foods to his students and let them distribute it themselves. sitting beside you, he gave you the separate plastic with food and helped you feed yourself. the two of you had your moment with you telling satoru to just let you be and stop feeding you like a kid, but satoru was like nuh uh—and it goes on and on.
meanwhile, the students watch you two with surprise in their eyes. they still couldn't digest the fact that you two had managed to hide your marriage for like five years or so. and out of all spouses out there, they couldn't believe their eyes that you married a guy that is a total opposite of you.
“i still cannot really believe that you're married and have a baddie wife.” nobara almost never tears her gaze towards you two.
“yeah, much more is that they look so in love!” yuuji agrees to what nobara said as his words made you two stop bickering instantly.
like a cold water being poured, you two were suddenly experiencing a reality check that this so-called in love was very far from the two of you actually is. coughing slightly to hide his awkwardness and nervousness, he just let himself chuckle. while you? you're an expert at this, you maintain a smiley expression and wordlessly (and also forcefully) agrees to what the boy said.
“oh my, do we?” putting a hand on your cheek, you smiled with your eyes closed. your act looks so legit but satoru has seen this multiple side—he knew this facade was all fake.
maki suddenly puts herself into attention by calling your name. “anyway y/n-sensei, i've noticed you two don't have a ring—” before she could even finish her sentence, you already beat her to it.
“that's because the two of us, mostly him, are constantly fighting curses and both involve using our hands when we use our techniques. it would be risky to wear it and we're scared that we might get it lost or damaged.” you explain meticulously.
you watch the students agree to your explanation, while satoru is looking at you with meaning. you stared back at him too, hoping that he would get your telepathic message.
“alright guys, your y/n-sensei needs to rest now. we'll just see you guys soon or you can all just drop by tomorrow after your training.” satoru called everyone's attention by clapping his hands then started to playfully shoo the students.
you watch them pack their things and wave you a happy goodbye, in which you return their enthusiasm as well. when they all left, you let out a sigh and started to gently lie your body on the bed. satoru, who was done cleaning just now, sit at the end of your bed and carefully massage your legs.
“did you have fun with them?” you just lazily hum at his question and proceed to rest your eyes.
“i…i'm surprised you managed to convince them about our marriage.” satoru continued quietly.
opening one of your eyes and looking at him, you said, “of course, i've been doing it to a lot of people for the past five years.”
that alone made him shut up.
satoru looked down to his hands, which were still busy massaging your legs. you've noticed that his eyes were casted down and his behavior was somewhat familiar to you, he's feeling something that is related to guilt and regret.
clicking your tongue, you're in no mood to deal with his behavior today. so to find a solution to this problem, you just put yourself to sleep and let all of this just go on without a single care.
it has been two days and you're getting better day by day. today was probably the bestest day so far because you're about to finally see your own baby!
“calm down, mama. do you want your stitches to open again?” shoko holds your knees to stop it from shaking anxiously as you were currently sitting just right outside the neonatal intensive care unit (nicu) where your baby was.
you understand that the doctors need to prepare the room first before you all come in, but you wished that they speed it up.
“but sho, i'm finally seeing my baby!” you squeal at your friend who just ruffles your hair and tells you to be patient—in which you definitely can't.
meanwhile, satoru, who was standing beside you while you and shoko were sitting together, has been eyeing you since this whole waiting. he understands that you're excited about seeing the baby because he is too, he is excited. but he couldn't help but to feel a sensation that you would rather share your excitement with others than him.
he knows that he sounds ridiculous and undeserving to say that in the first place after what he did to put you through, but he still couldn't help it and he wouldn't even dare to say it to you.
the door of the nicu just opened and it revealed the doctor who was wearing protective gear to keep bacterias and viruses from entering the room and harm the baby. before he lets you all in, he first instructs you all to change the same gear as him and then proceeds to give you all some explanation in which you actively listen and take notes.
and after that, he finally lets you go inside.
the moment your eyes traveled on a crib, you saw your child laying down there with some breathing apparatus that is connected to their little body. you could feel your eyes swell with hot tears as you inch yourself towards the bundle of joy who's their crib was also protected with glass and only small holes on both sides were there.
satoru and shoko watched you with pure warmth at your sight—it was a nice scene of mother's love. finally, a tear escapes your eyes the moment you get a whole view of your child.
“isn't he pretty?” shoko said beside you, someone who you didn't notice had come near you.
you gasp, “he? m-my baby is a boy?” your cries go even harder, but it was just pure happiness. you couldn't bring yourself to tear your gaze away from your child even though he looks fragile for being premature but you love him dearly.
“can i touch him?” you look at the doctor who assisted you earlier without caring that you might look like a crying mess. you're far more thrilled to be with your child than to be pretty at this moment.
the doctor smiled at you and he agreed. he pointed out the small hole on the side, telling you to stick your hands out to feel your baby. you do what he said with your shaky hands, and when your fingertips touch his warm skin—you feel like you could die from the burst of euphoria.
“my b-baby, my baby is n-now here!” you really can't hold your emotions back as you keep on passing your fingers through your baby's arm until it reaches his closed hands where you slightly and gently open it for him to grab index finger. and when he does, your smile becomes even wider.
“hi baby~ this is me, your mommy. it's so nice to finally see you.” you whispered softly, hoping that despite the glass, he could hear your words.
this is the bestest day of your life. your baby was here and that's all you need.
the scene continues to unfold with you still getting emotional and shoko was just watching you with a smile on her face. while satoru, the father of the child, the husband of the mother, was a little distant but he could still see the baby. he was all quiet and couldn't bring himself to utter a word but he's not speechless.
his eyes behind those glasses were trailed on the child, but most of his gazes were on you. satoru watches you become all smiley—this is probably the happiest smile he had seen on your lips for the past years of your marriage.
and he would absolutely never forgive himself if he breaks it—but he already did.
shoko notices his odd behavior and promptly leaves your side for a while (but you're busy having a baby talk with your baby to notice her leaving) to go talk to him.
“what? you're just gonna stand there and watch y/n?” yup. still the same as before, hostile towards the man. satoru let out a sigh and didn't give her attention. instead, he walked towards y/n and just focused on his family.
“you’re so tiny!” you continue to cooed at your son who keeps on moving slightly which is a good sign that your son is responsive and fighting. you also noticed that satoru was now right beside you and is looking at your son too with adoration tinted in his eyes.
“i don't think i could let myself be away from him anymore.” you said. your cheeks were now hurting from constant smiling but you don't mind.
satoru only looks at you briefly because his attention was now on his son, fully. “hello, it was nice finally meeting you.” his eyes trailed on his own flesh and blood with the most care of all.
on the other hand, you're not dumb to not notice that satoru was acting hesitant towards this scene and you knew what his reason was. you think that satoru thinks that he was undeserving to be here, and you're correct about his assumption.
but as a woman who grew up with an experience of being inside a shattered family, you absolutely would not want that to happen to your own child. and as much as you would also like to satoru be away at least for now because you're still that sensitive about what he had said during those conversations in the clinic and hallway, you respect his role as a father.
you'd give him a chance to prove his worth as a father to your child, but he's far worse to have a chance to prove his worth as a husband to you. if he messes this up real bad and without any proper explanation, this will be all over—satoru would no longer have you and your child as his own family.
“stick your hand on his hole, that way you could feel him.” you guided his hand towards the hole that you had said before and watched his hands turn shakey as he reached for the baby.
once satoru had finally experienced a skin-to-skin touch with his baby, he wanted to cry so badly but he didn't allow himself to, at least not yet. he felt like this was one of the best moments in his existence.
satoru would like to punch himself for questioning the baby for his plans as he seemingly thinks it would affect him. but just when he look and touch his baby, all of his recollection about the mixed emotions he felt when the baby is on the board has suddenly vanished and it was replaced with gratefulness and adoration for both of you.
it was like a full 360 degrees turn was done after the early birth of his first born. plus, he had seen you be ever so happy that you are with him. and deep inside him, satoru deniably hopes that this kid, this child, can at least help him save this marriage that was destined to fail and doomed.
because he now finally realizes that you're slowly wrapping him around your tiny fingers.
your tears had made him be a better person, your recent experience had made him behave. it almost cost you and your baby's wife just for him to realize the importance of your five years of marriage, and he's planning to tell you that soon.
“have you finally decided what name we should give him?” shoko asked you and she didn't fail to see your eyes sparkle at the mention of name.
ah yes, baby names.
that was something that a mother and father should decide together because it comes very crucial because the name that your baby will get is a symbol of you two's relationship. but the thing is, you and your husband hadn't talked about a single thing or just anything related to this matter.
that's probably why you're still embarrassed whenever you think about nanami accidentally seeing you open a website into one of the school's computers about unique baby names with its meaning.
you're four months pregnant at that time and you're spending your free time in a teacher's lounge. you're very invested in your mini research to the point that you didn't notice an old friend peeking at your screen. you actually only notice his presence when you're about to stretch but accidentally bump his torso, and to your surprise, he was there.
and then the rest becomes a story and history. nanami helped you pick baby names for both genders or even unisex until you came out with…
“kazuki. let's name him that.” a soft smile was decorated on your lips as you watched satoru, who's looking at you, plays with the hands of your son.
“kazuki…that's a nice name, y/n.” satoru said happily. however, you can see his disappointment behind those words and you know why. you didn't even invite him to search for your baby's name because why would you?
“does it have any special meaning?” shoko asked you.
you nodded and said, “of course, kazuki means hope of peace—and i really need that.”
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[part 5 will be just there right around the corner — ©luvvixu2024]
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daenysx · 13 hours
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imagine giving james a skincare sesh where reader is seated comfortably (on his lap ehm) and he lets her put all sorts of moisturizers, face masks and even lip balm on him and he secretly LOVES it and after they eat homemade cookies and watch their comfort show
thank you for requesting!! i had so much fun writing this, it's my skincare routine applied to james. i guess that means he's literally my boyfriend now (support my delusions please <3333) you can send me requests for james!
james potter x fem!reader, fluff
"are you ready?" you say, grinning. you carried most of your skincare essentials to living room, ready to give your tired boyfriend a nice spa day.
"yes." james walks out of the bathroom. "i washed my face."
"with the cleansing jel?"
"yes, baby." he sits on the couch next to you. you place yourself on his lap expertly, his face looks dry and clean. you lean to give him a kiss on his cheek, james settles down on couch with his back to pillows.
"okay." you say, clapping your hands. you're excited to give him a nice treating, he deserves all the best. you've never understood how boys have clear and smooth skin naturally, james certainly doesn't use as many products as you do, but he lets you do anything you want to him. skincare is like a therapy for you, quality minutes you spend on yourself. it's relaxing, taking care of your body without a single thought in your mind, you want james to experience it, too.
"let me just pull your hair back first." you say quietly, using tiny hairclips to secure his curls.
"why are you whispering?" he asks, whispering.
"i wanna create a relaxing ambience for you." you answer. "whispering is a part of it."
"oh." he teases. "okay."
you take your face toner in your hand, pouring some of it on a cotton pad. "close your eyes, jamie." you say, start applying it on his skin.
james relaxes into the pillow, his hands keep you balanced on his thighs. he likes how excited you get to take care of him, he likes being spoiled by you. your fingers are gentle on his face, almost invisible.
"now i'm gonna put on a face mask, handsome." you say, tearing the package of the mask. "it can feel a bit cold."
"that's okay." he mumbles. you place the mask on his skin carefully, adjusting the sides to cover his entire face. "what does this do?"
"um," you read the package. "it's for hydration mostly, and it has vitamin c in it."
"cool." he has no idea what vitamin c does for skin.
"we're gonna wait for 15 minutes." you say. "can i massage your hands while we wait?"
this must be some kind of special heaven for james. he gives you his hands blindly, you put on hand cream on the back of his hands and start rubbing it nicely on his skin.
james sometimes complains about how rough his hands feel, he washes them a lot and always neglects applying moisturizer. the cream feels good, like he has the skin of a baby now. you're being really sweet on him, he likes the way his muscles loosen up under your fingers.
"you're an angel." he says, a deep sound coming from his throat when you press a tight spot between his thumb and forefinger. "my fucking angel."
you smile, giving the same care to his other hand. james feels his hands go numb when you're finished. you clean the remnants of the cream on your hands before taking the mask off his face. "there you go." you put the used mask aside. "feels good?"
"i feel like a baby."
you laugh. "you're gonna be like a baby when i'm done."
it's a nice promise, james likes it very much. "i'm gonna apply some under eye cream now." you whisper. "you have no dark circles, i'm so jealous."
"it's because i actually have a sleeping schedule, lovely girl." he smiles. "something you lack, you know."
"hmm."
you massage his face a little bit before applying some moisturizer. you don't think any more products are needed for james, his skin is already perfect and the mask takes care of a lot of things. you want his face to be relaxed, so you keep your fingers on his cheeks. he smiles a lot, there are little lines on the corners of his lips and eyes that start forming. you can't help yourself, you kiss his lips softly. he immediately reacts but you pull yourself back, focusing on your work.
"what's the point of relaxing if i'm not gonna get a kiss?" james frowns.
"you'll get your kisses." you promise. "when i'm done."
applying moisturizer is so easy, his skin is glowing now. you make sure you cover every little spot on his face. "it smells good." he says. you nod even though his eyes are closed. "it really does." you say.
"and now," you put the cream away. "lip mask."
"lip mask?" james opens his eyes. "how will i kiss you if i have something on my lips?"
you laugh at his dramatics. "it never stopped you before. you always ruin my lipstick, remember?"
"not the same thing."
"come on, be a good boy for once." you tease. james parts his lips in shock. "once? this is a vile accusation."
you stop him, putting on a tiny bit of lip mask on his lips. he presses his lips together clumsily. "it tastes nice. is that strawberry?"
"you're not supposed to eat it!" you laugh. "leave some of it at least."
"mm, okay." he says. you fix his hair, and put a kiss on his cheek. you hand him the remote before leaving his lap. "i'm gonna bring you some cookies, can you pick a show?"
james nods, watches you clean up the mess through sleepy eyes. his skin has never felt this soft, he wants to pinch his own cheeks. he opens up the show you both like as he waits for you.
you come back with a plate full of cookies. james pulls you into his lap again. "i'm gonna eat just one." he says smugly. "i can't ruin my lip mask and i don't want crumbs on my face."
you laugh. "you're getting really good at this skincare thing."
"thanks to my angel." he says, he kisses your cheek three times. "i love you so much."
"i love you, too, baby." you say, your hand in his curls. "i can do it anytime you want."
"good, because i don't think i can go on without this anymore." he says like it's so obvious. "now, i remember i was promised kisses."
you settle down on his lap. "i don't wanna ruin your lip mask."
"it's not ruining, babe." he disagrees. "i'm willingly sharing my lip mask with you."
you laugh until your chest hurts.
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pitchsidestories · 2 days
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hate that I love you II Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader
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masterlist I word count: 1759
a/n: we hope you enjoy reading the oneshot, we'd love to hear your thoughts on it. <3
warnings: slight smut in the middle, a bit of angst, but with a happy ending.🖤
“Ana!”, Keira shouted the name of your former Barca teammate, after the English midfielder has spotted the Swiss woman in the crowd.
The Champions league final was over, your team has won the title a second time in a row. But the celebratory mood you were in just a few seconds ago was gone at the sight of your ex-girlfriend. It made your blood turn cold.
“Ale, what the hell is Ana doing here? Who even invited her?”, you asked your captain furiously.
In an instant, she noticed your change of mood, that was why the midfielder replied cautiously:” I think some of the girls did or she just came to visit.”
“Oh, wow.”, you huffed, trying to get as far away from your former lover as possible. Seems like you weren’t that lucky this evening in Bilbao, she already had set her eyes on you, calling your name.
“Hi, y/n.”
“Ana. Sorry, but I got to go.”, you lied, while walking into the direction to the changing rooms.
“Where’s she going?”, Ana questioned as she was slowly following you..
“Isn’t that obvious? You broke up with her.”, Alexia reminded the taller woman.
“She still didn’t have to run away.”, the Swiss player mumbled, the hurt was written all over her face.
Meanwhile Keira who has been quiet after hugging her enthusiastically, joined their conversation with a low voice:” No but you ran away first, remember?”
“I didn’t. It was better that way.”, Ana corrected the English woman, before she headed into the changing room where you were standing all by yourself. The party was heading somewhere else already.
You heard her last words loud and clear: ”No, it wasn’t, you’ve chosen the cowardly way after almost four years of being together. You acted like that time meant nothing to you.”
Finally, you got the chance to tell her how devasted you were about her sudden move to Madrid.
“That’s not true. It wouldn’t have worked out long distance and you know that.”, the Swiss player disagreed.
“No, I don’t know that actually, because we never tried it!”, you protested.
“Yeah, sure. You were pouting because I left the team.”, Ana rolled her eyes annoyed at you.
Her behaviour only fed the anger you felt inside.
“Yes, because you told me those transfer news a day before you left for the capitol.”
“Because I knew you’d be pouting.”, she shot back, almost stumbling over the empty champagne bottles which were left on the ground.  
This moment felt almost like a symbol of your failed relationship as it started golden, perfect even, with your first ever champions league win during the covid period, and the following wins, which abruptly ended in shattered hopes and dreams.
You tore your gaze away from the champagne bottles and looked straight at Ana.
“Oh.“, you said, your jaw set. “Sorry that you meant something to me. What a fool I was. Hope you’re happy now.“
Anas face changed from a slight moment to confusion to immediate annoyance: “Oh my god, you can be so damn dramatic!“
“Why are you even here? You ruined a perfect final with your presence.“, you spat back.
Anas eyes sparkled with furiousness: “Oh I’m sorry. Sorry that my friends are still here and that this team still means something to me!“
You were taking aback by how loud her voice had gotten but you kept glaring at her: “Fine. Go and celebrate with them. But leave me alone!“
All of a sudden, you felt Anas weight on you as she pinned you against the wall of the changing room. You had to suppress a surprised shriek.
Ana tilted her head, her lips curved in the smallest hint of a smirk: “Or what?“
“Get your hands off of me!“, you said through gritted teeth.
“Make me.“, your ex-girlfriend challenged you.
In a heartbeat you leaned forward, pressing your lips onto Anas. Just when she started to return the kiss, you bit down hard on her lower lip.
She pulled back: “Hey!“
“Can I go now?“, you asked impatiently.
“No.“
You locked eyes with her again. Your voice was pure ice when you replied. “I hate you so much…“
Anas hand found its way into your ponytail, pulling on it roughly.
You hissed.
“Say that again.“, Ana ordered.
“What? I hate that I still love you…“
Anas grip on your hair loosened. “I know you do.“
“What about you?“, you asked. You hated that your voice still sounded so hopeful when you only wanted to despise the woman in front of you.
Your ex ignored your question deliberately. “You need to shut up now.“
“Go on.“
“I’ll.“
And suddenly, her lips were on yours again. Her body pressed so hard against your own that you could feel her heat on your skin. You kissed back with hunger while Ana shoved her thigh between your legs. Biting back a moan, you began to move against her.
Anas hands, in the meantime, had slipped under your jersey, exploring your skin with the lightest touch.
You knew you should not but you could not stop yourself. It was as if your body had taken control, taking what it had craved for so long.
Ana was in the motion of finally pulling your jersey over your head and your body tingled with excitement, when the door to the changing room was opened.
“Girls, we’re going to party!“, Keiras voice announced, before stopping herself. “Oh, seems like you already started.“
“Come back later.”, the Swiss woman told the midfielder in a casual tone as if the redhead couldn’t see the messy state, you two were in.
“See you girls.”, she muttered and closed the door again much to your own relief.
“Oh my god, that was embarrassing.”, you mumbled against the older player’s chest.
“Whatever. As if she cares.”, Ana shrugged.
“Right, Laura will distract her from what she just saw.”, you smirked while you thought about the happy couple.
“I’m sure.”, the blonde nodded.
“Thank god.”, you sighed, forever gratefully for the Austrian footballer.
“She came in at the worst time though. I was just getting into it.”, the older woman whispered into your ear, although you couldn’t see her face you could hear from her voice that she was smiling.
“Need a reminder where we stopped?”, you looked up to her, eyes sparkling.
“No. Come here.”, Ana shook her head, before continuing what she started, her touches even hungrier than before.
In between you put your hand on her body middle to stop her, asking the one question which was burning hot on your tongue:” Did you miss me in Madrid?”
“Of course. Every day.”, the Swiss player answered truthfully.
 “When why didn’t you say everything? You were multiple times in Barcelona.”, you pressed on.
“You know why.”, she responded quietly, while tucking in a loose string of the hair behind your ear.
“Because it would have made it worse.”, you replied.
“But it was worth to wait.”, Ana said winking, alluding to the fun you had only minutes earlier.
“You’re an idiot, you know that, right?”, you laughed at her playful mood.
“Maybe I’m.”, she admitted seriously.
“To be fair so am I.”, you confessed, remembering how the blonde was till able to make your legs go weak.
“Looks like we both are.”, the Swiss woman smiled sadly. There was a melancholy air surrounding your ex-lover and you which couldn’t be waved off.
“Yes, seems like it.”, you agreed.
“So.. want to continue making out or..?”, Ana quickly distracted you from the thoughts which tinted everything sepia coloured like it was a moment from the past, but actually everything what happened was in the present.
“No, let’s stop talking and continue kissing.”, you decided, while turning your words into actions. She gladly obliged to your decision.
In the morning you awoke to Alexia’s cheerful voice, of course your captain was already up:” Y/n, wake up, we got to go!”
Your heart sank when you turned your head to Ana whose eyes were still closed, her arms wrapped around you:” Ana? I’ve to leave.”
“Okay, Barca needs you, I understand that.”, she responded, although the older woman hasn’t let you go yet.
The light of the sun fell through the curtain and gave everything it touched a warm glow including her.
“You can sleep a little longer.”, you offered her heavy-hearted.
“No.“, Ana said. Her voice was still a little hoarse from the sleep but she sounded determined.
“No?“, you echoed.
Ana pulled you closer, whispering into your ear: “I’ll think that I only dreamed this.“
“But it was real.“, you replied, studying her face thoroughly.
With a sigh, she finally let go of you. “Visit me in Madrid.“
A slight smile tugged on your lips as you crawled out of bed: “I’ll. See you there.“
Ana watched you while you got dressed: “Hopefully soon.“
“Promise.“, you said before you grabbed your bag and were out the door.
You could feel her gaze linger on your back as you left.
Alexia was already waiting for you. You were unable to interpret the look on her face but she was eyeing you cautiously as though she was searching for a hint.
When you approached her, she only let out a breath: “You girls.“
You rolled your eyes: “Don’t say anything, Alexia.“
Your captain remained unimpressed by that. Instead, she shrugged with a smirk: “I have to.“
“Fine but quick.“, you gave in. All you wanted to do was go home to Barcelona and sort your thoughts.
Alexias smile grew wider: “You’re the same kind of idiots.“
“Rude.“, you said, more amused than offended.
“It’s true.“
“Maybe a bit… She asked me to visit her in Madrid.“, you admitted quietly.
Your teammate nodded slowly, seemingly unsurprised: “She means it. You two miss each other.“
“I hate that I love her…“
“You can hate it all you want but you need her.“, Alexia replied calmly.
“You’re right.“
You had to finally admit it, your captain knew you better than anyone else on the team. Maybe she was right. Maybe all the hatred and pain you had felt had been unnecessary. Maybe there was an easy solution to this ache you felt in your chest.
That was how you found yourself in Madrid on your next free day. Your heart thumped against your chest as you waited on Anas door step.
Finally, the door opened and her face appeared in the gap.
“Hi.“, you said softly.
A smile of pleasant surprise appeared on Anas lips. “Hi. Come in.“
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educatedsimps · 3 days
Text
— bonus headcanons, iwaizumi hajime
≪ back to fics masterlist main fic here!
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iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader
a/n: idea dump based on this iwa request (main fic) so this is basically just everything i wanted to put into the fic but i kinda lost the energy and the bandwidth to write everything up to the standard i wanted so now this exists HAHA hope u like this and tysm for reading! :)
headcanons under the cut!
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You remember asking him once, "Hajime, why do you do that?"
And he replied "Do what?" with deadass the most confused look on his face.
"Kiss my wrists and palms all the time," You clarified.
"Oh," He stopped. "Yeah, why do I do that-"
ok so basically, Iwa finds the wrists a very delicate part of the body, and given his experience as a volleyball player, and the nature of his job, he takes extra special care of them.
he remembers his coaches always reminding him and his teammates not to injure their wrists during training, which translates to "YOU BETTER HAVE GOOD FORM WHILE SPIKING, SERVING AND SETTING, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
anyway, i think he started noticing wrists when he was in high school, especially since he was seijoh's ace and had to use his wrists a lot to spike. he probably injured his wrist(s) once and has always listened to his coaches ever since.
now that he's a professional volleyball trainer he makes sure that his athletes don't injure their wrists either.
so i think all of this adds to why he pays extra attention to your wrists especially.
bonus if your job requires you to use or rely on your wrists a lot, eg. musician (like me), athletes, surgeon, author, artist, etc... idk.
YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME THAT HE DOESN'T GIVE THE BEST 👏 FKING 👏 MASSAGES 👏 ON EARTH 👏 and at the end of the massage he'll always kiss your hands and wrists and idk why but it just feels so chivalrous. like ofc it feels intimate when you hold his face in your hands and he plants kisses on your wrists/palms and but sometimes it just feels so chivalrous and gentlemanly ykwim?
OMG WHEN HE PROPOSES TO YOU like after he slides the ring onto your finger AND THEN KISSES YOUR WRIST/HAND AND IT FEELS LIKE YOUR HEART COULD EXPLODE 'cause i know mine would actually explode if he did that.
anyway some instances i thought of adding to the fic (but couldn't cuz i don't have the ability or capacity to write them out well) include:
waking up in the morning together or when you hold his face and kiss his forehead (these two are in the main fic linked above!)
when you're cuddling on the couch after a long day and just watching a show together or napping. if you're laying on him and touch his face he'll 100% kiss your wrists/palms
when he hugs you from behind and you reach up to run your fingers through his hair (like when you're cooking dinner together or something) and he'll pull your hand down to kiss your wrist
when you hug him with your arms around his neck and he catches your wrist before you pull away
when you shower together (SFW, DON'T WORRY) and you're facing each other and he's tilting his head / bending down while you wash his hair or massage his scalp and when you're done washing it he'll give your wrists a gentle kiss before returning the favour
BONUS: when he holds your face in his hands and you decide to give him a taste of his (very sweet) medicine. you’d twist your head to kiss his wrist and then his palm and he'd be BLUSHING because he's usually the one who does that AND HE'S SO CUTE he's like, "hey... you can't do that. i'm supposed to be the one doing that for you." while blushing and smiling and getting a lil shy and everything and HE'S JUST TOO CUTE FOR MY HEART 😭😭💕
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a/n: ok that's all for the iwa brainrot ... i'm kidding, the iwa brainrot will never end. THANKS FOR READING THOUGH and thank you anon for sparking my two week long obsession with iwa once again
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© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarize any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. likes and reblogs are appreciated!
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dunmeshistash · 1 day
Note
fun fact i started following this blog before i got anywhere Near other elves appearing in the story but through this blog I saw the tidbit about pointy-er ears being more attractive in elvin circles really early AND I noticed how rounded and/or cartoonish Marcille's ears are.(because it was bugging me for a while) So for awhile I was half expecting there'd be some reveal about marcille being unattractive by elf standards. but only Half because What if that's just how Kui draws elves when she's actually trying? -what with most of the non-spoiler posts on here I read being compilations of Kui's more doodle-y stuff. And then when the canaries actually showed up and they all had super pointed ears i was like. so what. are all the canaries just coincidentally super hot in-universe? anyways all this is to say Marcille being half tallman was probably the last possibility on my mind when we got the reveal but i Sure Was Thinking about all those hints, and I thought this blog's part in my comedy of assumptions was funny
AHAHAH GLAD I DIDN'T SPOIL IT FOR YOU
That's an amazing way to find out. I don't think I particulary noticed her ears ngl even after the canaries showed up. So the reveal also got me by surprise.
Actually wait, I did notice but only on this bit.
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So I was very surprised LOL
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Text
The Malicious Daughter is Back! - 8
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Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.
Chap 1, Chap 2 , Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 , Chap 7 , Chap 8 , -
Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
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Everyone's eyes were on you, likely thinking you didn’t exist. The Celestial Enterprise knew the proper miss and acknowledged by your father, the CEO, as Victoria.
This time was different. They were more invested because of the person walking beside you, Bucky Barnes.
You were nervous, for sure, but Bucky was calming you down. He said, “Calm down, I can hear your teeth chattering.”
“I’m not,” you replied. Was it that obvious? You pinched your thigh to clear your mind with the pain.
Bucky chuckled. It was true your teeth didn’t make a sound, but he could feel your fear, so he tried to bring back your fierce character. “Look at all these people. After tonight, they will remember who you truly are.”
Yes. He was right. Before, you could only dream of this, never taking a step because you knew the bridge would be destroyed by your stepmom first.
But this time was different because you could cross the bridge with Bucky's help.
What kind of luck did you have to have Bucky supporting you?
Flashback Start
After remembering everything, Bucky felt a surge of anger at the people who had kidnapped him. But now, that anger was replaced by gratitude as he recalled how he was saved. It was you and your grandma.
It must be God’s work that brought you and him together again. Bucky knew he had to repay the kindness he received from you both.
He went to his parents' house early in the morning. His parents were already up, enjoying a short walk. His dad was sipping coffee and eating toast while his mom was reading the newspaper.
“Son? What are—?” Juliana began, looking up from her newspaper.
“I remembered,” Bucky interrupted, his voice steady.
Bucky’s dad, Rowan, curious but skeptical, remarked, “You forgot something?”
“Shush,” Juliana said, flicking her husband’s hand lightly. She quickly understood what Bucky meant. “Everything?” she asked, her eyes wide with concern and hope.
Bucky sat down to join his parents, taking a deep breath. “Including the person who saved me,” he said, his voice filled with mixed emotions.
His confession took his parents by surprise. The time when Bucky was kidnapped was the darkest day of their lives, like a living hell. It was then that they realized money could bring security and danger. Their only son had become a hostage.
He was kidnapped for two weeks. It was a miracle when the police from an outlying city called to say they had found him. Actually, it was a woman and her granddaughter who discovered Bucky. It was nothing short of a miracle.
Juliana and Rowan wanted to thank the people who had saved their son, but when they tried to get more information, the police said no one was in the cabin anymore.
At that time, there was no social media or viral news. They wanted to keep searching, but they stopped because of Bucky's trauma. He had lost all memories of his kidnappers and the people who saved him.
Although they stopped searching, the Barnes family never stopped being grateful and wishing the best for the people who saved Bucky.
“Could you describe the people who saved you?” Rowan asked, leaning forward with interest.
“Even better. I met them,” Bucky replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
His parents were even more shocked. Juliana’s hand flew to her mouth in surprise while Bucky’s dad sat back, stunned.
“We have to meet them. As Barnes, we never forget the people who helped us,” Rowan declared, his voice filled with determination.
Bucky nodded, a serious expression on his face. “Before you meet them, I need your help.”
His parents listened intently, their faces a mix of curiosity and readiness.
Juliana reached out, touching Bucky’s arm gently. “Whatever you need, son.”
⚾⚾⚾⚾
The luxurious car parked in the school parking lot, drawing curious glances from students. Bucky stepped out, straightening his jacket, and made his way toward the school entrance. It had been a few days since he last saw you, and he was eager to catch up.
As he approached, he heard loud cheers and shouts from the male students, echoing through the windows. The lively and raucous atmosphere was a stark contrast to the quiet, private school he had attended. Intrigued, he followed the noise and found himself at the field track.
He initially thought it was a running exam, but quickly realized it was something different. A group of students was running, chased by someone wielding a baseball bat.
It was you.
You had taken off the cast from your left arm, and as you ran, you swung the bat with determined precision. The sight made the students you were chasing scatter in fear.
"I'm sorry!" Jimmy, one of the students, yelled as he ran.
"Destroying school property with graffiti is a big no, Jimmy," you called back, your voice steady as you gained on him.
Jimmy, looking over his shoulder in terror, suddenly spotted Bucky standing ahead. He remembered this rich man from his previous visit to the school.
"Bro! Help me out a bit," Jimmy pleaded, darting behind Bucky in desperation, using him as a human shield.
Bucky raised an eyebrow, glancing back at Jimmy with mild amusement. He turned his gaze to you, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
You stopped when you saw Bucky, your bloodlust evaporating.
"Oh, hi! What are you doing here?" you asked, catching your breath after the chase.
Bucky, looking out of place compared to you, covered in sweat and still holding the bat, smiled. "What lessons are you teaching right now?"
"Attitude," you replied, pointing the bat at Jimmy, cstill hiding behind Bucky. "This lad behind you wants to be Jackson Pollock. He painted the school's clean wall with graffiti."
Bucky glanced at Jimmy and then back at you. "He did wrong. It must be a hassle to clean it."
"Damn right. The principal will make me clean it," you grumbled.
"That's not fair. I will call a carpenter to paint the wall," Bucky said firmly.
"Really?" Both you and Jimmy asked at the same time, surprised.
Bucky nodded. "As payment, I need to steal you for the rest of the day."
"Yes, please. Bro, take her with you," Jimmy said eagerly, pushing Bucky closer to you.
Neither of you expected it, and you were ready to help Bucky if he panicked. Bucky had prepared himself too, but nothing happened, even though his heartbeat was racing.
"You're not...?" you began, your eyes searching his for any sign of distress.
Bucky grabbed your hand. "Let's go. I want you to meet someone."
"Wait," you protested, but Bucky was already leading you away.
Many students watched in astonishment as their fearless teacher held hands with Bucky. After a brief second, they erupted into cheers.
"Get it, teach! Get it!" "Woohoo! Love is in the air!"
You felt the back of your neck grow hot with embarrassment, but you couldn't help but notice that Bucky seemed different. His grip on your hand was firm and steady, his posture confident.
🍷🍷🍷🍷
Bucky takes you to a luxurious hotel restaurant. The hotel manager welcomes you both warmly, guiding you through the elegant lobby. As you walk, you feel a bit out of place in your casual attire, a stark contrast to the opulence around you. It's been a long time since you've set foot in a five-star hotel.
The manager leads you to a private room and opens the door. Inside, two people are already seated at the dining table. You recognize the woman, and suddenly, it clicks—you're meeting Bucky's parents.
"Oh my god," you murmur under your breath, hastily brushing your hair back and fixing the collar of your shirt.
Juliana rises from her seat and approaches you with a warm smile, wrapping you in a hug. Your hands hover awkwardly in the air, unsure of how to respond. How could a wealthy lady like her be so friendly?
Meanwhile, Bucky's father, Rowan, the CEO of a major company, smiles at you with genuine warmth.
"Thank you for saving my son," Juliana says, her gratitude evident.
You blink, confusion written all over your face. "I... I don't understand."
Bucky clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "I haven't talked to her about that yet."
Juliana chuckles softly. "No wonder she looks clueless. Forgive my son. Please, take a seat."
You sit down, feeling all eyes on you. “What do you mean?”
“Do you remember years ago, you and your grandma found a boy?” Juliana asks gently.
You think about it for a moment. Your grandma? A boy? The memory is blurry, but you recall a boy that your grandma brought to the cabin.
"The next morning, the boy was gone, and we had to leave. It turned out my father had taken the rights to that small cabin too," you say, piecing it together.
“I was that boy,” Bucky reveals.
“You—? No, I don’t think so. Oh my god, it is you,” you gasp as the realization hits.
Cassandra pats your shoulder reassuringly. “That’s why we wanted to meet you. It’s such a small world.”
“Hahaha… yeah,” you laugh nervously, still processing the revelation.
Rowan leans in, his voice filled with gratitude. “We’re forever grateful to you. You and your grandma saved our son's life.”
You feel a rush of emotions. “It was my grandma who found him,” you say modestly.
Bucky nods. “And that’s why we will give Cassandra the best treatment.”
Your heart leaps at his words. This is such a great gift. “Thank you…” you say, holding back your tears.
Juliana offers you a tissue. “This is just the start, my dear. You deserve so much more.”
Bucky and his dad nod in agreement.
“There are two things that she wants: Velari and her childhood home,” Bucky states firmly.
Rowan and Juliana exchange a look of surprise. “That’s it? You only want to get back Velari and the house?” Rowan asks. Because they could give you so much more.
You clear your throat, gathering your thoughts. “To be honest, my knowledge of business isn’t that good. I only want to get back the business that my mom and grandma put their blood, sweat, and tears into. Looking at the design that both women created for Valerie, the root concept of Velari is gone. It has fallen into consumerism.”
Juliana nods in agreement. The old designs from Velari were classic and timeless. She’s too shy to tell you she’s wearing a Velari shirt, but she appreciates how you admit your limitations. You’re not greedy.
Juliana interjects, “What will your father say?”
“He’s only a father in name. He was never a father to me,” you reply, bitterness creeping into your voice.
The Barnes nod their heads, understanding the situation of your family. They know that your mother died of a heart attack after discovering her husband’s infidelity, and that your father prefers his second wife and younger daughter over you.
You look at their supportive expressions, feeling a mix of sadness and gratitude. It’s painful to realize that strangers are more willing to help you than your own blood relatives.
Juliana claps her hands together, breaking the somber mood. “That would be easy. You will get back what’s yours, dear.”
You feel a wave of relief wash over you. “Thank you.”
Flashback Ends
🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷
That brings both of you to the anniversary of Celestial Enterprise. With the support of the Barnes family, you are no longer scared.
Genevieve and Jonathan approach you both. Genevieve wears her one-million-dollar smile, polite yet the fakest smile you’ve ever seen. Inside, she wants to curse you with the most evil words she knows.
Victoria has resigned herself from the party. It was supposed to be her daughter standing beside Bucky, not you.
You smile at your so-called dad and Genevieve, especially her. Jonathan, who used to turn a blind eye, now sees you as worthy of his time.
Genevieve, who used to look at you as if you were beneath her, is now scared. You feel that karma is catching up with your stepmom and stepsister.
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Author Note: Hey friends,
If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.
Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.
Only if you feel like it!
Here's the link: Ko-fi
Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!
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lives-in-midgard · 2 days
Text
Part of the Community
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: When Bucky asks you about the pride parade, you decided that it's the right time to tell him that you're part of the LGBTQ+ community.
Word Count: 810
A/N: Hey everyone I wanted to write this for so long and now I finally did it. I hope you enjoy!!
Divider made by @firefly-graphics
Masterlist
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When Bucky read about a pride parade in June, he became curious about what it is. So, he decided to ask you, his best friend who is also his girlfriend. You were sitting in the living room of the compound when Bucky came back from a morning walk. You were surprised when he suddenly asked you about the pride parade, but then you started telling him everything you know about the LGBTQ+ community.
At first you were a bit nervous about his reaction to the topic, but Bucky was very supportive and listened to everything you said. Bucky was very happy that these days people don’t have to pretend anymore and that they can be and love whoever they want.
As you were about to say something very important to him, you were interrupted by Steve, who wanted to talk to Bucky about their last mission together.
“I’ll be back soon.” Bucky said and gave you a kiss on the cheek. You smiled and watched him walk away with Steve. You finally had the feeling that it was the right time to tell Bucky, and now you couldn’t tell him again.
You and Bucky have been dating for about four months and you’ve loved every second of it. You tell each other everything, well almost everything. There’s still one thing you haven’t told him yet. It’s about you being part of the LGBTQ+ community and identifying as asexual. This means you have a lack of sexual attraction to others. You have strong feelings for Bucky, you love kissing and cuddling him, but you’re not interested in sex. At the beginning of your relationship you didn’t want to tell him because you wanted to see where this relationship goes, but after a while you really wanted to tell him, but you got so nervous every time. And now as you were about to say it, you were interrupted.
You decided to talk to Bucky about it today, even if it might mean that he will break up with you. The thought of Bucky breaking up with you made you so sad that a tear rolled down your cheek, but he needs to know.
“Hey, doll.” Bucky said as he walked in your shared room.
“Hey Buck.” You greeted him and Bucky came closer to you and sat down next to you.
“You okay, doll?” Bucky asked because he noticed how nervous you were.
“Yeah.” You said and Bucky tucked a hair behind your ear.
“Are you sure?” He asked worriedly and reached for your hand.
“Actually, there’s something I want to tell you.” You confessed.
“Sure, go for it.” Bucky said softly.
“It’s not that easy.” You explained nervously.
“It’s okay doll, take your time.” Bucky softly kissed your cheek, and gently rubbed the back of your hand. After a few minutes, you were ready to talk to Bucky, who was now also looking nervous.
“When we were talking about the Pride parade, there was something I didn’t tell you. It’s that I’m also part of the LGBTQ+ community.”
“Oh, you are?” Bucky asked with a smile and curious what you would say next.
“I’m asexual.” You finally confessed.
“What does that mean, doll?”
“It means different things to different people. Some people don’t have romantic feelings for others, others have little or no sexual attraction, and that’s how I feel I have a lack of sexual attraction to others. I have no interest in sex, but I love kissing and cuddling. I love you Bucky and if you want to break up with me now, I can understand that. I just hope we can still be friends.”
"Doll, I’m not breaking up with you.”
“What?”
“I love you. I’ve been through so many years of torture…I don’t mind not having sex with you. I would never do anything you don’t like or want. Doll, you are so important to me. I want us to be happy and if that means we don’t have sex then that’s totally fine and I’m happy with that.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course, I am.” Bucky said, and you started smiling.
“Oh Bucky, I can’t believe it…this makes me so happy.”
“You said you like to cuddle, how about we do that now?” Bucky asked with a smile.
“Sounds perfect.” Bucky held you close, and his reaction made you so happy. You cuddled for a while until Bucky broke the silence.
“Are you going to the Pride parade?” Bucky asked.
“Yes, I want to go there.”
“Can I come with you?” Bucky suddenly asked and you smiled at him.
“Of course you can.”
“I love you so much, doll.”
“And I love you.”
You’re both so excited to go to the Pride parade together. Bucky makes you so happy and you’re glad that he doesn’t have a problem with your sexuality.
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1d1195 · 14 hours
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Thursday
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Read Tuesday and extras here | 2.8k words
From me: based on this ask/suggestion
Warnings: fluff, a bit of angst
Summary: A lot of things are back to normal. Like coffee dates, movie nights, and sharing a skin routine with Niall. But some things are a little uncharted. Like onions, bookmarks, dishes, and exes.
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“What’s your favorite day of the week?” She asked.
“Friday of course,” Niall rolled his eyes. “What else would it be?”
“Saturday, obviously,” Harry stared at his friend as he brought a glass of water from the kitchen. He held it out to her. “Here, kitten.”
“Thank you,” she said softly, taking a long sip before Harry took it back from her and placed it on the coffee table in front of them. “Thursday is my favorite,” she told the pair. Harry fell into the seat beside her, his hand immediately resting on the inside of her leg, squeezing her thigh gently.
“Thursday!?” Niall’s eyebrows pinched together. “You still have a whole workday left! Why would you like Thursday?”
She shrugged. “Just... it’s a good day, you know? It’s anticipating for Friday. It’s nice.”
Harry stared at her dreamily. She could feel him look at her in her peripheral. It had been a while since someone looked at her the way he was looking at her. It hadn’t been long since they admitted they still loved each other. Only a few months. They settled back into the same normal routines they had when they dated the first time. “S’cute, love,” he squeezed her leg. “What movie are we doing tonight, Ni?”
“What number are we on?”
Harry shrugged. “Oh, I haven’t a clue. Think Mitch is keeping us on track.”
Since they started seeing one another again, she hadn’t come to one of their weekly movie nights. It made her feel better about not being overbearing and needy. But Harry invited her every week. Niall too. You don’t have to be here because of Harry. I want you here just as much as he does—maybe more because I’m ready to tie you to a chair to stay, Princess.
So finally, after countless invites, she finally caved. Not that it was hard. She was excited to be there. Their group of friends had been making their way through the Best Picture Oscar winners since the award’s beginning. It was cool to see how things changed over time, and it was really adorable to hear the way Harry talked about it. “I don’t have to stay for movie night,” she reminded Harry quietly. “If you want time with just your friends without—”
Although his mouth opened to protest, it wasn’t Harry that answered. “Princess, don’t be ridiculous,” Niall rolled his eyes. “Course we want you here. Help us pick out food.”
Niall cast his phone to the TV screen and was scrolling through the nearby places that would deliver to them in the next hour when their other friends arrived. “M’feeling pizza I think,” Harry suggested.
“Pizza it is,” Niall selected their favorite pizza place and began selecting way more pizza than seven people could ever eat.
“Make sure there’s one without onions.”
Her heart fluttered that Harry remembered that about her after all their time apart. Part of her thought about just going with it, never admitting the change in her palate. But she didn’t want to lie. “Actually,” she cleared her throat. “I like onions now,” she admitted almost shyly. Like she wasn’t allowed to change her mind.
“Y’do?” Harry blinked and turned fully toward her. A delighted smirk on his lips. It made the dimple in his left cheek pop through prominently.
She nodded. “Not sure how it happened. Think I accidentally ate something with onions in it and didn’t pick them out like a five-year-old. It actually tasted good. I like French onion soup now and everything,” she explained.
Harry’s smile grew, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead as if it was a bigger to do than it was; like winning an award or something. “I told y’that y’would like them,” he chuckled. She rolled her eyes and buried her face in his chest. “So brave,” he teased.
“Oh, shut it,” she laughed. “Did you at least warn them that I would be here?” She asked.
“Sarah is really looking forward to seeing you,” Niall once more took the lead in explaining. “She is tired of being the only girl around.”
While it wasn’t fully said, she knew Harry had been seeing a girl. In one way or another. It wasn’t a bad thing, she wasn’t judging. But Harry got exceedingly cagey about it whenever she tried to broach the subject. “What about—”
Harry squeezed her thigh again. A silent directive to stop her question. Niall smirked as Harry cut off her inquiry (and Niall’s impending quip). “Y’could bring a girl home, y’know,” Harry reminded him.
“She’ll be so jealous of our princess here,” Niall winked making her laugh. It really felt so easy. So simple. Just being back where she was supposed to be. Like nothing had changed at all. “Holding out for the one, Harold. You should know something about that,” he said knowingly and finished placing the pizza order. His phone screen disappeared from the TV, and he left the room.
She didn’t want Harry to feel like he had to hide part of his life from her. They were adults. He was allowed to see anyone he wanted. “You know...you can talk about someone you dated—”
“We didn’t date.”
“—pardon, fucked,” she smirked.
Harry rolled his eyes, his cheeks turning a shade redder than she thought he needed to turn. It didn’t bother her that Harry had a life outside of her. He was unbelievably handsome. Unbelievably sweet. He deserved to be happy. She wasn’t jealous of someone else in his life when she had no claim to him in any way. “I jus’ don’t think s’polite t’talk ‘bout her t’you,” he shrugged. “S’rude.”
“Okay,” she nodded encouragingly. “If that’s how you feel, I just wanted you to know you could if you wanted to.”
Harry seemed a little less on edge about it after that, but she noted his grip on her thigh loosened. Even though she kinda liked how his fingers felt pressed into her skin. She figured she could tell him later when they were alone... and her clothes weren’t in the way.
*
They sat in the very coffee shop she used to work in. It was nice to get out and have an inexpensive date—even with two grown up jobs it was smart to sit and relax in the comfy seats and sip coffee they loved so much. It made her heart flutter that Harry still knew her order after so much time. Or maybe that was a comment on her stubbornness to change. “You should try the hazelnut drink they just got,” she smiled at him as they stood in line, holding hands. “It made me think of you.” The overlap of seeing him after two years and the new drink reminded her of all the things he loved and all the things she remembered loving about him. He leaned toward her and kissed her cheek.
Once seated, Harry stretched his legs; they invaded her space beneath the table. But it didn’t seem to bother her. He admired her concentration on the book she was reading; the little furrow of her brow, the way her lips pursed together. She was so adorable, and Harry didn’t think she even knew. Beneath the table he nudged her leg with his knee, and she glanced up at him. He could tell she didn’t want to look up from her book. But he smiled at her. A smile that made her heart and stomach twist because he was so Harry, so perfect. It made her smile back.
“Harry!”
Both their heads turned to the voice. But after a brief moment, she turned to look at Harry. Trying to piece together the recognition. She came up short, but Harry stood and greeted the girl with a hug politely. There was a little flutter of jealousy that pinched her heart and she waited patiently.
“Kitten, this is Hailey,” his voice was neutral.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she cleared her throat and stood.
Hailey was beautiful. There was no question about it. When she left, she was going to ask about a thousand questions. Starting with if she was a model. Then asking Harry if she knew what kind of hair products she used.
“Same to you,” she smiled politely. Her voice took on a new tone as she turned back to Harry. It was obvious her problem wasn’t with her, for which she was grateful. “Hadn’t heard from Harry in a while.”
“That’s my fault,” Harry’s voice was low. As if he was exhausted. She could tell Harry wanted out of this conversation. Curiosity was getting the better of her as she tried to imagine if she had ever met Hailey prior or heard the name in any stories Niall had told.
“How long have you been seeing each other?” Hailey asked. She noticed her tone was getting harsher by the second. Her glare bored into Harry’s face.
She opened her mouth to say, ‘a few months,’ and get her attention away from her boyfriend. But Harry beat her to the punch. “Two and a half years,” he told her.
Hailey quirked an eyebrow up and she tilted her head at him curiously because while true, technically, there was a large two-year gap between the ‘two’ and the ‘half’ part of his sentence. But it did make her heart happy that he was willing to let the gap slide into oblivion. It would definitely require explanation, but it was nice.
Hailey looked at Harry for a long moment. “That’s news to me.”
“Hailey,” he said quietly.
“I can let you guys talk if—”
“S’fine, kitten,” he said quickly.
Hailey looked irritated beyond belief. She wished she fully knew why because right now the only thing she felt was overwhelming uncomfortableness. Quietly she sat in her seat and folded the page of her book down. Harry did a double take and shook his head before turning his attention back to Hailey.
“You ghosted me,” she said.
Harry closed his eyes. “I did,” he admitted. “But we were never...”
“I deserved more than that.”
“You did,” he agreed. It clicked. The girl that Harry wasn’t dating. The girl he was fucking in some arrangement that she didn’t know about. Her cheeks felt warm just knowing what happened. Hailey looked pissed. Her eyes were fueled with anger. “But we weren’t exclusive.”
She continued to glare at him. “You’re an ass.”
“Yes,” Harry nodded in agreement.
It almost seemed like Hailey was mad Harry was agreeing with her. Not that she could fully look at the scene unfolding in front of her to truly gauge it. She was taking extreme interest in her coffee cup. Hailey grabbed Harry’s cup of coffee, pulled the lid off and she closed her eyes as Harry braced for the cold liquid to cover him. “Good luck,” Hailey said in her direction then marched off to the exit. Once out of the shop and everyone was watching Harry drip from head to toe, she jumped into action. She asked her former coworkers for some towels, and she felt her face heat with embarrassment on behalf of Harry. If she wasn’t there, maybe that wouldn’t have happened. Perhaps Hailey would have had a conversation with Harry that she fully deserved and she wouldn’t have felt the need to dump coffee all over him.
“Kitten,” Harry murmured as she dabbed at his clothes and cleaned up the puddle at his feet. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
She smiled weakly. “It’s okay. Are you alright?”
“M’so embarrassed,” he admitted.
She shook her head. “Let’s get out of here,” she squeezed his arm.
“But our date...”
She laughed quietly. “I mean, I wanted you out of your clothes anyway,” she teased.
Harry chuckled, his cheeks turning slightly pink with her flirtatious joke, and looked at his feet. “Yeah? You’re not mad?”
“Mad?” She asked. There was a long pause as she gathered their belongings, returned the towels to the front where she thanked them profusely. Then she held the door open for Harry, sticky with coffee. He shrugged.
“I didn’t...” He sighed. “I didn’t want to tell you about her.”
“Why?”
“Because, kitten. If I knew y’were fucking some guy for the last two years without any strings attached I would be jealous out of m’mind,” he explained. “I’d be jealous if there were strings.”
She made a mental note to keep her ex to herself. “Well... I’m not mad. I wish you had told me so you could have ended things—”
“She was getting attached. I didn’t want a relationship. I started cutting it off weeks before I heard from you. I had only seen her once or twice in the months prior. She texted every now and again. I didn’t want a relationship,” he repeated. She got a jacket he had left in his backseat to lay over the driver’s seat so he wouldn’t have a car that smelled like sour coffee for the rest of time. They could always wash the jacket.
“No?” She asked. Harry took his seat and waited until she was in the passenger seat to continue.
He shook his head. “Now that I have y’back... I don’t know why we broke up,” he tapped his hands on the steering wheel. Her heart fluttered. “S’obvious now. M’not... I don’t know, kitten. Dating didn’t make sense after you. I tried. Really,” he assured her. “S’jus’... you were... you are special.”
She bit the inside of her cheek and felt the heat warm her skin with adoration and embarrassment. “You don’t have to pretend like you didn’t have a life while I wasn’t around.”
“I know. And I was wrong for how I handled Hailey,” he assented.
“Maybe, yes. But she didn’t need to pour coffee all over you.”
“At least it was iced,” Harry chuckled. She smiled. “Are we okay?”
“Of course,” she giggled.
Harry sighed with relief and grabbed her hand. He kissed her knuckles. Turning the car on and backing out of the spot. “Since when d’you fold the page of y’book like a serial killer?”
*
Harry always sucked at doing dishes. When she stayed at his house in the beginning of their relationship it drove her nuts to no end. He used too many and piled them high. Then he would leave them without soaking for so long it was miserable. It wasn’t even her responsibility to do the dishes but she felt like it was after he did all the cooking.
Which was why when he finished making dinner for them on a night in, she was floored to see him doing the dishes right away. Soaking and scrubbing them as she had done so many times over.
“You don’t like dishes,” she mumbled in surprise putting leftovers in Tupperware and condiments in the fridge.
He smirked glancing over his shoulder. “Didn’t realize how much I was torturing you all the years ago.”
She gaped. “What?”
“Niall went t’do the dishes after me shortly after we broke up,” he chuckled. “Said, ‘no wonder she broke up with you; I don’t even want t’be your roommate right now.’ Y’should have said something, kitten.”
Her cheeks felt warm. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“No,” he nodded firmly. “It was pretty bad, baby,” he nudged her with his hip.
She giggled and took the large pan that Harry had used to make stir fry (something that she had forgotten he made so well. It was delicious) and began drying it. “I don’t know, seemed like a bitchy thing to say ‘hey, I know you just made dinner for me and it was delicious and a lot of work, but I kind of want to strangle you for how difficult it is to wash the dishes.’”
He flicked water at her making her wrinkle her nose. The expression was adorable, made her look even cuter than she normally did so that Harry’s heart skipped a beat. “Y’can’t hide stuff like that, kitten. Y’do that and I won’t know m’gonna lose you so I can fix it,” he winked.
“I hope you don’t lose me,” she mumbled.
He chuckled. “Whatcha say, love?” He wrapped his arms around her waist. His hands were still wet and he avoided her shirt as much as possible, holding her slightly awkwardly but it was cute. “Think m’gonna be stupid enough t’lose y’twice?”
She giggled and shook her head. “Not if I have a say in it,” she draped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. He seemed to melt into the kiss—forgetting his hands were wet and getting the back of her shirt wet as well.
Which was fine by him.
He wanted her out of her shirt anyway.
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picnokinesis · 2 days
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Thoughts on Different Types of Representation in Doctor Who (and how fandom responds to it)
So I watched Rogue last night and - okay first, oh my days, absolutely ADORED it, this is definitely my favourite episode of this season, it was just so much FUN and it hooked me right from the start. And then the queerness! I was actually thinking to myself whilst watching it how wonderful it was because it felt like a queer story in a way that wasn't like, showboating about how progressive it was? [editorial aside: this is not comparing it to anything in particular, just a general observation]. The characters were just queer, within this wild and wonderful sci-fi story, but also their queerness wasn't the Only Character Trait they had and their story didn't resolve around their queerness, but their queerness was crucial to the plot in a way that was just lovely to see - and as a writer myself, it's personally the way I love to see our stories being told.
But then I made the mistake of going into the tag - always a foolish thing to do, because for some reason everyone loves to praise this era by criticising the previous era (as if it hasn't been criticised enough...like we know most of y'all hate Chris Chibnall for committing no worse crimes than Moffat and RTD before him...we know). And I found a couple of folks talking about how this episode alone did more for queer representation than the entirety of thirteen's era, whiiiiich at first really Peeved Me Off - like didn't these people understand how important Yaz's arc (especially Eve of the Daleks) was to a LOT of people? But then I was like 'well actually this is interesting', right? Because I think there's two very different kinds of representation going on here - and they're both very important in different ways, but one tends to get lauded as brilliant rep and one always gets put down as not good enough, or even bad rep. And what's the main difference? Whether the characters have a gay kiss or not.
So I just thought I'd share some of my thoughts and feelings on this, and why I think both these kinds of rep are equally important! To be clear from the get-go though - this is definitely not me ragging on anyone who likes more about one than the other (in fact, I think everyone likes one more than the other). This is merely a personal essay about it and the frustrations that comes when people in general do lift one up over the other. I'm gonna put it under the cut though, because it might get a bit long!
So, back when Eve of the Daleks aired, I remember having a lot of conversations about the representation in that episode - in particular with a very good friend of mine, who is a lesbian. And we realised that when it came to rep, we both actually wanted pretty different things. I'm aroace and genderfluid, and so a lot of what I saw in how thirteen was written - especially in terms of her gender (or lack thereof), and also her apparent lack of attraction (at least, in how I read it) was just incredibly affirming to me. I've never EVER seen a character on screen that I could see myself in both in terms of sexuality and gender. Whereas my friend saw things quite differently - thirteen was a lesbian, and they wanted to see that kiss between these two characters, because for them too, it was so rare to see that, and, in their words, they wanted to have their cake and eat it too. And we both realised that the reason that queer representation can feel so intense and important is, simply, because there isn't enough of it. We're all desperately reaching for the same small portion - and none of it is ever going to please everyone, or resonate with everyone. The stakes are too high.
So then, when there wasn't this dramatic romantic ending to Yaz's story, when there was no queer kiss, I was very sad for my friend, who didn't get that representation, but so painfully relieved for myself - because I got mine. So then it sucked a lot to see a lot of people getting really angry that this wasn't queer representation, that this was even homophobic - I even had someone tell me that aromantic representation in this regard was always going to be homophobic, because no-one would ever write it to be aro rep, and would instead only ever write it to avoid writing a gay kiss. And the thing that got me the most was that, REGARDLESS of whether they kissed or not, regardless of how you read either of the characters, there was one thing that was certain:
Yaz was queer. In text. Her emotional plotline centred around her realising that she was attracted to the Doctor (who was presenting as a woman - although, again, I don't think she really identified as such). The fact that she and the Doctor didn't get together by the end does not erase that fact.
They didn't kiss - but so what? Are queer people only queer when they're kissing someone of the same gender, or having gay sex? Are queer people not queer in their day to day lives, when they're not doing any of those things? Are queer people not queer when they're not dating? Are queer people not queer when they're trans, when they're ace, when they're aro, when their queerness doesn't resolve around attraction to the same gender?
And, to be honest, I think a lot of my feelings around this stem from the sort of exclusionist rhetoric that we saw a LOT of towards the ace/aro community back in 2012 that we still see now, that we're seeing towards the trans community now, that we're still seeing towards bi people, for pete's sake. It's this in-community infighting, pushing each other down to try and get up to the top, to keep all the "resources" for "the people who really need it", and it causes a serious amount of harm - but the truth is (and to bring this back to doctor who) that it all comes back to what me and my friend were discussing. We're all scared, all desperate to be seen - and when we are seen, it's the most incredible experience and the idea of losing that (or having someone else undermine it) feels inexpressibly awful. Having the thirteenth doctor...I suddenly realised this is what all the straight cis white dudes get all the time. She was like me, and that was indescribable. And then losing her - and having RTD not even be able to have a man wear her clothes because he was too worried about what the tabloids would say to be able to show a gnc person on tv...and then constantly described her as The Woman Doctor for the next entire episode - that hurt. A lot.
I've spoken to other friends who felt so seen in the character of Yaz - those people who realised they were queer later in life, those who fall in love with people and it doesn't end up going anywhere, those who don't get the whirlwind queer romances that people often call 'good representation'. Myself and many of my aspec friends have felt so seen in thirteen's almost entirely romance-less arc, and myself and my trans/genderqueer friends felt very seen in the way that thirteen's character would have been exactly the same if she'd been a man - the only difference was how the other characters around her interacted with her. Gender was something that happened to her. And when I watch episodes like Rogue, even though I don't relate to that representation, I just feel overwhelmed with joy because I know how important it will be to others that I care about. I think my sadness then comes from the fact that the way Thirteen and Yaz were written are just as important to me and many people that I know, but because they didn't kiss, it's not considered queer enough. Am I not queer enough, then? Are my friends not queer enough?
We need more episodes like Rogue, like The Parting of Ways, like Praxeus, like The Doctor Falls, because they are unquestionably and unapologetically queer, in a way that can't be avoided. We also need more episodes like Eve of the Daleks, like The Haunting of the Villa Diodati, like the rest of thirteen's era where the representation is an undercurrent throughout the whole story - but also undeniable, in a way that Yaz's story arc is, even if it doesn't end in a kiss, even if it doesn't end neatly and happily. Personally, I definitely would love to see more stories focused on aromanticism and on transness (especially ones that are written by trans people for trans people, rather than by cis people for cis people), but that's probably going to be down to people like me and other writers that I know actually getting into the script writing industry - and that depends on the people who are already there letting us in. One thing that I've always appreciated about Chibnall is that, after leaving Doctor Who, he began a programme for training up new showrunners with ITV, because: "showrunners are the gatekeepers and too many of the gatekeepers look like me."
Anyway, I probably have more thoughts that I've forgotten, but that's generally the gist of it. I think the more we fight over whether rep is 'good' or 'bad', relating to whether we see ourselves in it or not (rather than 'is this genuinely harmful or unhelpful', which I think is a more crucial question) the more the waters get muddied. We have different needs and wants, and no single episode is going to represent every facet of our community. But each episode, each story like this is a step in the right direction - and even rep that isn't perfect (I have thoughts about The Star Beast, for example) is still extremely positive and important, and definitely something that should be celebrated, even as we keep looking to the future for what we would like to see done differently, done better. And some day, I hope, there'll be so much queer rep, it'll be so normal, that those stakes won't feel so high anymore. It won't feel like everything hangs on how a certain show or storyline or episode is written. We'll all be seen. And that will be absolutely fantastic.
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ravstars · 2 days
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HELLOO this is like the first time I'm requesting here... umm so an idea came up to my mind, it's about Wanderer's little story about sewing a doll. It's on his character menu. He basically learns how to and sews a doll, and then he starts bringing it everywhere he goes... but what if his S/O discovered about/saw that his boyfriend had actually something to be attached to? IDKK feel free to do the request only if u want, if you don't mind I'd prefer a male S/O... that's it!! Ty for reading and for ur attention!!
(I find that so cute help me, HE HAS A DOLLLLL so cutie)
MY DOLL ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა
⌇Wanderer/ Scaramouche x Reader.ᐟ
જ⁀➴Fluff: See above for request <3
a/n: I hope you like the way I wrote it, Anon! Thank you for the request, I hope you have a great rest of your day ^^. I‘m sorry that you had to wait a little. HAPPY PRIDE, LOVES <3
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You knew of some parts of Wanderers extraordinary history, having become his friend after Lesser Lord Kusanali introduced you to him. He hated every second he spent with you, he‘d say, with his signature scoff and a roll of his eyes.
Truth is, he had grown fond of the idea of spending time with your reassuring and caring presence, even when he felt like he didn’t deserve it. Not that you needed to know when you could just understand from the way he pulled his hat down when you teased him on the way to the Akademiya or from the way he‘d tolerate your occasional energetic behavior even after he had a long day. Even in silence, there was a mutual understanding between him and you, no words needing to exchanged for you both to know how you were feeling.
He hated it — Feeling vulnerable to you. He couldn’t help but cave on some nights, though, looking up at the night sky and watching the stars with you when you couldn’t sleep. So, yes, you knew of his past, even if not completely and appreciated every part of his vulnerability and trust. He knew he could trust you, he didn’t know if he should, though.
—••••—
“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad.” Your laughter takes him out of his thoughts as you walk around Sumeru City, talking about whatever crossed your mind as Wanderer listened.
“I don’t need people to know about my personal affairs, much less if I’m involved with you.” He grumbled, clearly flustered about the encounter earlier at the Grand Bazaar. A merchant had inquired if you and the Wanderer were in a relationship, and even though true, your lovely boyfriend was too embarrassed to answer.
“So what, I am your lover, am I not?” He basically shuts down, turning beet red
“Shut it.” He pulls his hat down, speeding up to escape your teasing.
Suddenly, a rock gets in his way and he trips, sending him straight down on the sandy ground. His hat falls right off too, and he makes a startled sound. You’d think it’d cute if you weren’t just slightly worried but surprised too.
You kneel next to him.
“Wanderer?”
He has his guard up again and now both of your gazes land on what fell out of his hat.
“What is this?” You ask, snatching the object from the ground before he can, dusting it off.
It was a little and soft doll with white clothes and black hair, a waistband tied using a butterfly knot, and a clear, round tear at the corner of his eye. You pet the top of the dolls small head with your thumb before looking back at him. His brows are furrowed and he’s blushing profusely
“Give it back.” He says, but you just hold it. You knew Wanderer too well, you knew what he was thinking
“I’m not making fun of you, I like it. I love it, actually.” You slowly give it back, smiling gently.
“He’s my travel companion.” He puts it back, keeping it safe underneath his hat. You help adjust his hat and help him get up. You keep walking silently until he feels less embarrassed and finally talks.
“Thank you.” He says, mumbling quietly. You respond by humming, taking his hand in yours, which he then squeezes tightly. No one understood him like you, no one cherished him like you, no one loved him like you and no words could express your love for one another.
“Who does the doll represent?” You ask, curiosity overtaking you
“Someone from the past. It doesn’t matter, anyway.” He turns to you and , in rare occurrence, smiles at you, genuinely and sincerely.
“You’re the one that matters to me from now on. For forever.”
Forever — That sounds lovely, doesn’t it?
101 notes · View notes
jji-lee · 2 days
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when they says something which ends up hurting you
did this in a different format so hopefully it's still okay - enjoy! ☺
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⟡ mark - tense silence
takes him a minute to even register what he said. seeing your face sadden he'll start to stutter, wanting to say something, but not knowing how to organize his thoughts. he'll just sit there for a minute scared that he'll say something wrong again. ends up muttering a short, "i'm sorry you know i'm not good with words, just give me a second okay" more awkward silence as he thinks, but he'll reach for your hand to give you reassurance as you wait. doesn't like to act without thinking, he needs time to gather his thoughts, please be patient.
⟡ renjun - stubborn comments after
when he sees your eyes start to water he'll immediately try to excuse himself, "you know i didn't mean it that way" "can you just listen to me" "why are you jumping to conclusions," which obviously makes you feel worse. he'll pick at his nails and straighten his sideburns, not understanding that he's making you feel worse. eventually he'll gently grab your face to make you look at him, "okay please just, you know i hate to see you cry, let me explain, please." it's hard for him to admit he's wrong, but he knows he needs to apologize eventually, excuse his slight attitude, he's trying.
⟡ jeno - immediate regret
as soon as the words come out of his mouth he knows he messed up. immediately grabs you and pulls you into his embrace. "wait, let me explain, that didn't come out right" you'd try to push him away, "jeno, let me go, i don't wanna hear it" but he'd just pull you closer dipping his head into your neck, "no, i'm sorry, please just listen to me" he'd force you to sit there with him hugging you listening to his explanations and apologies. best boyfriend to talk things out with, you don't need to explain whats wrong he always seems to know, pro at reading your body language.
⟡ haechan - begs for forgiveness
feels actually so bad that he said anything that would hurt you, feels worse that you think he would ever try to intentionally hurt you. eyes start to water seeing your hurt expression, feels like kicking himself. however, he has a little sass in him, he's haechan of course, and tries to wait for you to say something first. when he notices that you in fact are not going to speak to him, he gets up and kneels in front of your sitting figure. puts his head on your lap and pouts, "baby please i'm sorry, you know i hate to see you like this" kisses as an apology, hands, legs, arms, face, every inch of you kissed as he praises you. his main priority is to comfort you before trying to smooth things over.
⟡ jaemin - has read the boyfriend manual
nobody can convince me that jaemin is not the prefect boyfriend. you are as shocked as he is when you hear those words come out of his mouth. immediately reaches for your hands and kisses them, "i don't know what came over me please i'm so sorry" you're just standing there looking at him wide eyed as he pulls you in for a hug, "please say something, what's on your mind, lets talk about this" gives you any space and time that you ask for, watches how your body reacts to his movements and his words to see what he should do next. is the most patient boyfriend in the world and is not afraid to open up and express why he said what he said and explain how he plans of fixing his mistakes. treats you like royalty all night and makes sure you're comfortable enough to open up to him.
⟡ chenle - will apologize for the next couple of days
chenle is a bit stubborn, will just sit there for a bit and chew on the inside cheek, he's more "actions speak louder than words." he'll get up and leave for a while, making you feel worse, but he'll come back with a chocolate bar you didn't even know you had. "eat this, it helps release serotonin or whatever" watches you as you silently take a bite, his heart literally hurts seeing you like this. you'd be the one to speak first but he cuts you off, cause he know he's the one that should be trying to say something and apologize. "i'm sorry, i know i act impulsively sometimes, let me make it up to you?" at the time you didn't know what he meant by that but as the week goes by and you start waking up to breakfast, receiving flowers at work, and having candy bars snuck into your bags with sappy notes, you know just how sorry chenle truly was.
⟡ jisung - nervous nervous nervous
he will like start to vibrate, don't know if it's all the regret in his body, or the need to say something, anything, to make his last comment go away. he will start to fidget and play with his fingers while trying to say something to you, "wait baby" "y/n" "are you upset" "is it what i said?" knows what he said hurt you but wants you to tell him so he can know exactly what went wrong. once you tell him he'll try to calm his nerves and apologize for what he said, would never intentionally say something to hurt you. takes him a second to grasp the situation since he likes for you to explain things clearly before he makes his next move, but he's a great listener so you don't mind, don't be afraid to rant.
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lam-ila · 15 hours
Text
I Care About You || Fernando Alonso
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Summary: An unfortunate crash prompts Fernando to defend you and confess his feelings.
Word Count: 1,513
Warnings: none (please let me know if you find any that i should add)
F1 Masterlist
a/n: this is gender neutral. hope you enjoy this! feedback is appreciated
LIKES ARE GREAT, REBLOGS ARE BETTER ♡
Just like any other F1 driver, you hated crashes. They were always inevitable, you knew that, every driver knew that, but you absolutely hated them, especially when you were involved in them.
Early on in the first few laps of the Monaco Grand Prix, you were crashed into. The driver behind you tried to overtake you at an extremely narrow part of the track and ended up crashing into the side of your car.
“No, no, no, no, no!” You yelled into the radio as you were crashed into, resulting in a red flag. As you slowed to a stop, TV screens at viewers’ homes displayed “Are you ******* kidding me?”
“Not your fault. Not your fault at all.” your race engineer calmly told you. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure my race is over.” You threw your head back as you responded, annoyed at the circumstances you found yourself in.
You climbed out of your car and assessed the damage, realizing that you were right, your race was over. You glanced over to the car that crashed into yours, noting that it had a similar amount of damage as yours and also wouldn’t be able to continue racing. You somehow felt better knowing that you weren’t the only driver to DNF, only feeling a small amount of guilt upon taking pleasure in someone else’s pain, pain that wouldn’t have happened if the driver didn’t try to overtake you.
Once you were off the track, you angrily ripped off your helmet and looked back at the crash, making eye contact with the driver who crashed into you. You quickly turned your head away, not wanting any prolonged eye contact to result in a conversation with the driver, and started to make your way to your team’s hospitality.
After changing out of your racing suit and meeting with the press, you sat down on a couch in your team’s hospitality and opened your phone, only to see the blame of crash being placed onto you. You furrowed your brow upon reading the seemingly endless posts, comments, and headlines blaming you for the crash. Deciding that you read enough, you placed your phone face down on the table in front of you and heavily exhaled in attempt to calm yourself down. You were running on adrenaline since the crash and looking at your phone wasn’t going to help bring your heart rate down.
You placed your elbows on your knees and leaned forward, so that your head was in your hands. You sat in that position for minutes, deep in thought. This was a just a misunderstanding, right? This wasn’t actually your fault, right? You took a deep breath as you shifted your body weight and took support from the back of the couch. You widened your eyes and you realized that you knew for a fact that the crash wasn’t your fault. Not only did your race engineer tell you so, but you also did nothing out of the ordinary while driving on the track. After all, it was the other driver who crashed into you because of a mistake they made, not the other way around.
Your gaze shifted to your phone as you contemplated opening it again to see what else people were saying. Deciding against it, you sighed, rubbed your hand against the top of your head, and stood up, making your way to your team’s garage. You needed a distraction and besides, it would probably look like the crash was your fault if you weren’t seen for the rest of the race.
Once the race ended, you went on your phone again, wanting to see what the overall narrative of the race was and if it was still highly focused on your crash. A video of Fernando, one of the drivers you were good friends with, kept showing up on your Instagram feed and on the fifth time that it showed up, you decided to click on it.
“I don’t think so.” Fernando started, looking a little off screen to look at the interviewer. “The driver behind them to overtake when they shouldn’t have. The track is too narrow to overtake there and this crash just proved that to be correct.” Fernando listened to the interviewer asking a clarifying question before continuing. “No, Y/N L/N is not at fault for this crash.”
You initially smiled and filled with a feeling of warmth. That was your friend, your Fernando, defending you. But then you realized, Fernando was defending you. As much as you appreciated it, you wanted to take care of everything with just you and your team. You didn’t like the way that it all looked: veteran Fernando Alonso defending a driver who is being blamed for a crash.
You marched out of the garage and entered the big post-race crowd of drivers, staff, interviewers, and friends and family of drivers, determined to confront Fernando. You spotted him within the crowd and sped up to reach him before he disappeared in the crowd again.
“I could have handled that myself, you know.” You declared once you caught up to Fernando, still navigating through the crowd.
“You’d rather have me just stand there and let the blame be placed onto you?” He challenged, slowing his pace to hear you out.
“Yes!” You exclaimed while raising your voice a little, turning a few of the heads around you. “That was not your battle to fight.”
“I didn’t want you to have to fight it on your own.” Fernando reasoned, one step ahead of you as you two navigated your way through the crowd.
“Why? You’ve let other drivers figure this type of thing out on their own.”
He quickened his pace, trying to lose you through the chaos of the surrounding crowd.
“Fernando!” You sternly yelled his name, similar to a parent scolding their child and like a child being scolded, he froze and stopped in his tracks. “Please, I just want to understand.” You softly explained, meeting his eyes with a sincere look. He stayed silent, taking a moment to study your features: wide eyes, raised eyebrows, and lips slightly parted. Fernando’s eyes darted around, taking in the amount of people around you.
“Let’s go somewhere more private.” He stated, gently grabbing you by the hand, pulling you out and away from the crowd. You followed Fernando and stumbled over to a less crowded area of the paddock. Once you were standing face to face, you noticed that the area was only used as a means to get from one place to another.
“This private enough for you?” You teased as one side of your lips curled up into a smile. Fernando didn’t verbally respond, but rather nervously nodded with his head slightly tilted down as to not meet your gaze. Your smile fell as you watched a nervous Fernando, something you rarely saw unless something was very much wrong. “Nando?” You used his nickname, hoping it would calm his nerves. “What’s wrong?”
He shifted his head to meet your gaze, then looked back at the ground. Deciding you had enough, you cupped your hand around his cheek and gently moved his head so he would look at you.
“Fernando?” You tried to get him to respond again.
“Hi.” He finally said.
“Hi,” You softly laughed. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”
He sighed and straightened his body, removing your hand from his cheek in the process.
“You want to understand, yes?” You nodded enthusiastically, resulting in Fernando chuckling at your silent answer. “Okay, well you are right that I wouldn’t defend other drivers.”
“Then why-”
“You going to let me finish?” Fernando cut you off before laughing once again, this time at you miming zipping your lips together. “I care about you and before you start again, I know what you’re going to say: you care about me because that’s what friends do, they care about each other. But I care about you more than the way friends do, mi amor.”
“Mi amor?” You repeated, raising your eyebrows.
“Eh, too much?” He asked, nervously running his hand through his hair.
“No, I like it.” Fernando breathed a breath of relief at those four words. “It’s a good thing I care about you more than the way friends do too.”
“Yes,” he smiled brighter than you’ve ever seen him smile. “it’s very good.”
Fernando leaned forward and angled his head to kiss you, but you stopped him by lightly placing your hand on his lips. He raised his eyebrows and slightly tilted his head as if saying ‘why’d you do that?’
“I think we sound find somewhere more private for that.” You whispered with a shy smile on your face, not wanting anyone else, or any cameras, to partake in the moment.
Fernando smiled, kissed your hand that was against his lips, then took that hand and held it in his. Taking a few steps, he began to guide you to a much more private location, just as he did before, so he could continue without any worries.
——————————
F1 taglist: @2manytabsopen @matthewkniesys @fallinallincurls
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superprofesh · 1 day
Text
The Five Times Colt Seavers Almost Kisses You (and the One Time He Does) — Part 4
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Pairing: Colt Seavers x reader
Description: The fourth time Colt Seavers almost kisses you — on the brink of a promise he knows he can't afford to make.
Rating: T
Word Count: 3.2k
Tag List: @strangedeerconnoisseur, @icantwaittoliveandlearn, @moonlightandstarshimmer, @chemococktailonthehouse, @1word, @itzjustj-1000, @k-l-a-w-s, @hotdogbread23
Author’s Note: I've been blown away by how kind you all have been about this fic, and I'm so glad you're enjoying reading it as much as I am writing it! We've got two parts to go, and they only get better from here :) Thank you for all the support, and let me know what you think of this chapter!!
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~��
It’s five o’clock in the morning, and Colt Seavers has already been standing in the misty parking lot for two hours when he finally sees your car pulling in the entrance.
The last twelve hours have been absolute torture for him. One minute, he was walking into the crowded club to drop off some equipment with the stunt coordinator; the next, he was sharing space at the bar with you, trapped under your spell despite all his vows that he wouldn’t keep pushing this flirty thing you’ve been sharing.
He’s been conflicted for months now, knowing that his feelings for you are only getting deeper but also knowing that a relationship with him is the last thing you need. No matter how hard he tries to be noble for you, he just can’t get free from the way you enrapture him so completely — the way he thinks of you every moment of the day, dreams of a future where you could feel about him the way he feels about you.
And he honestly thought you didn’t — that you couldn’t — until last night. When he completely wrecked everything, including your heart.
Colt squeezes his eyes shut again, remembering the way he pulled back from you just a few seconds before your lips would have met. In the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do: cut it off, laugh it off, let it go before he betrayed how absolutely captivated he is by everything you do.
He keeps telling himself that he did the right thing. That he’s no good for you, and you’re better off not getting confused by his overwhelming feelings for you. But he keeps seeing your face — the way all the light in your eyes vanished, the way your shoulders slumped and your expression wilted. He had no idea there were actual, genuine feelings on your part. And for him?
Colt has spent the last twelve hours deliberating how to handle this situation. He knows he has to make it right with you, but the question is how. His inner monologue has quite the speech ready for him. You can’t even THINK about confessing your feelings. You’re the one who has no future, no big dreams, maybe not even much longer to live! You have no right to force that kind of life on anyone. Especially if you really care.
After hours of tormented decision-making, Colt has come to the same conclusion he always does: he can’t let you know how he feels about you. He’s got to apologize, make sure you know he didn’t mean to hurt you, let you think he’s just been flirting for fun, maybe even rekindle your injured friendship. But he absolutely cannot let you know he’s in love with you.
And he is, isn’t he? He wouldn’t have waited with bated breath in the parking lot for two hours if he wasn’t madly, hopelessly, irremediably in love with you.
Colt has planned this conversation thousands of times since last night, but the only thing he can choke out when you climb out of your car and start toward the studio is, “Hey.”
You glance up at him in surprise, clearly less than pleased to find him hanging around the parking lot so early. His heart tightens at the sight of your pale face, the dark circles under your eyes betraying what was probably a sleepless night. “Hey,” you respond emotionlessly.
“Do you have a second?” Colt asks. His voice isn’t quite as strong as he hoped, but the sight of you is sending jolts of electricity through his veins.
You look to the side, pursing your lips and injecting a hint of coldness into your voice that he has never heard before. “Honestly, Colt, no offense,” you say plainly, “but I don’t really want to talk right now.”
Colt presses his lips together, knowing he’s the reason for this uncharacteristic coldness. “Believe me, I understand,” he blurts out, “but I’ve got to talk to you about last night.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you shoot back, fixing your stare on him again. Behind the coldness in your eyes is a deep sorrow that twists his heart. “I misread the signals, I overthought it, it’s not a big deal. You don’t need to explain anything.”
“Yes, I do,” he insists. “I messed up big time. I haven’t had a moment’s peace since last night, and I have to get this off my chest, okay? You don’t have to say anything.” He knows he sounds desperate, but he’s past caring. “Please, just hear me out and let me explain.”
You hold his stare, unrelenting, unforgiving. He loves you for it. “Fine.”
Colt releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding, overwhelmed with relief that you’re even willing to listen to him. His biggest worry all night was that you wouldn’t speak to him, wouldn’t let him make things right.
He plunges right in, knowing it will be messy but not caring. “Listen, I’m really bad at this, but I’m going to give it my best go. These past few months that I’ve known you… it’s been really nice. You’re amazing to be around, and I always feel better after I’ve hung out with you. You’ve honestly been the best thing about this shoot.”
Your expression doesn’t change, but Colt can feel the iciness in your gaze softening ever so slightly. It gives him the courage to press on, even though he knows what he’s about to say is going to devastate himself.
“The thing is,” he continues, heart in his throat, “I’ve been so caught up in just… flirting and messing around, that I haven’t paid attention to how it might affect you. I haven’t been paying attention to the signals either.”
You furrow your brow at him. “What are you saying?”
Colt, you are the worst at this, man.
“I’m saying… I’m really sorry that I hurt your feelings last night. I’ve been replaying it over and over in my mind, and I can’t get past the way you looked at me when I pulled away and laughed everything off. Just, the look in your eyes and the way you looked like I had let you down — it’s been killing me.”
Your expression finally softens, and Colt hates himself for the words that are coming out of his mouth. “I thought this was just a fun flirtation between friends and that it would be better to keep any physical stuff out of it. I didn’t know there was anything on your side. Honestly. Not until I saw how much it hurt you for me to just… act like it meant nothing.”
There it is again — that hint of betrayal in your eyes. Now that Colt knows you care for him, his decision to “do the right thing” suddenly seems like the most gut-wrenching, agonizing thing he’s ever done.
It’s all I can do. I have nothing to offer, nothing to make a relationship worth the pain it would cause. I love you, and that’s why I won’t tell you.
Your brow is still lined with confusion, trying to parse out his real meaning among the confusion of words. “But you’re still saying… it didn’t mean anything to you.”
This is killing him. “Of course it meant something to me,” Colt blurts out before he can stop himself completely. He tries to amend it. “Man, I am so bad at this. What I’m trying to say is… I would never have even started a flirtation with you if I knew it would hurt you. Please believe me when I say I would never, ever, in a gazillion years want to do anything to hurt you or make you feel like I don’t care about your feelings. I should have been more sensitive and realized that I can’t just… lead you on without it mattering.”
Lead you on. As if I didn’t mean every word I’ve ever said to you. As if I wouldn’t die for you right now.
You nod, pursing your lips again with a clearer, more determined look in your eyes. “So, just so we’re clear,” you say slowly, “there’s nothing going on? All this flirting and hanging out and almost-kissing — it’s just been for kicks?”
“No, no, not just for kicks,” he backtracks immediately. Even when he’s trying to be noble, he can’t betray your trust that far. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“What did you mean, Colt?” He can hear the genuine confusion in your voice. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.”
Colt takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he tries to focus on the right thing to say. “I’m just trying to tell you that I am so, so sorry for anything I’ve done to hurt you. I’ve been stupid and insensitive and awful, and I wish there was a way I could make it up to you. I just…” He opens his eyes, fixes them on yours so you know he’s telling the truth. “I couldn’t let this go without making it right with you. No matter what, you mean a lot to me, and the thought of losing your friendship honestly makes me miserable. Please just tell me I haven’t messed this up beyond repair.”
Please tell me I haven’t lost your trust completely. Please tell me I haven’t damaged the person I love most beyond repair.
You stare him down for what feels like an eternity, your discerning gaze burning holes into him. Finally, you sigh, seeming to come to a decision. “No, you haven’t,” you tell him at last. “I mean, I’m still trying to process everything and sort it all out, but… it means a lot that you wanted to have this conversation.” A note of humor slips into your voice, and the twinkle in your eyes makes a very welcome reappearance. “I mean, you waited for me in the parking lot like a stalker, so that says something. Not sure what.”
Colt laughs out loud at that, all the intense pressure of the night lessening with your words. “I thought about camping outside your hotel, but I thought it might be a little much.”
“Yeah, it would have been,” you agree, scuffing your shoes on the pavement.
Colt feels like the weight of the entire world has been lifted off his shoulders, but he knows he has to keep handling this the right way if he doesn’t want to risk hurting you again.
“So, are we okay?” he asks sincerely.
You nod, smoothing your hair back and closing your eyes while you think about your response. “Yeah. Yeah, we are. Just… getting some closure and some straight-shooting takes a lot of stress out of this.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Colt agrees. “I’m just sorry it took me so long to shoot it straight with you.”
If you can really call this shooting straight.
You shake your head, raising your eyes to meet his again. “No, I should have been more upfront, too,” you admit. “It would have saved me a lot of trouble.”
Colt’s first reaction is to argue, to insist that you haven’t done a single thing wrong, that this whole tangle has been caused by his inability to let go of the feelings he has for you, but he knows it’s best to let that go. Better to end on a positive note.
“Friends?” he asks tentatively.
“Friends.” You grin at him, obviously as relieved as he is to have mended your relationship.
Great, just friends again. Exactly what we wanted. Colt elects to ignore his inner monologue this time.
With the tension lifted at last, you heave a grand sigh and nudge his shoulder in the old familiar way, heading in the direction of the studio.
“So, where are you off to?” Colt asks you, falling in step beside you.
“Train station set,” you reply lightly. “Filming for that scene is supposed to start next week, so I’m scrambling trying to get everything finished. It’s the biggest set I’ve ever created from scratch, so it’s been a serious challenge.”
Colt grins down at you, nudging your shoulder with his the same way you just did. “I’m sure it’ll be amazing,” he assures you, meaning every word of it. “Your sets always are.”
You grin back up at him, your cheerfulness infectious. “What about you? Any big stunts today?”
“Nah, just rehearsing some choreography for a fight scene. Easier schedule for the rest of this week.”
“That’s good,” you respond. The art trailer, empty in these early morning hours, is coming into sight now. “Maybe you can stop throwing yourself off moving vehicles for awhile.”
Colt smirks. “Yeah, that’s the plan. Unless something crazy happens on my way to the gas station or something.”
“Oh, sure. You never know with a Citgo.”
The two of you share a laugh, and suddenly everything feels back to normal. Maybe it can never be completely normal again, but after the fears that kept Colt awake all night, this feels like he’s just stepped into paradise after being cast out.
“Hey, bad guys come in all shapes and sizes,” Colt informs you, feeling his sense of humor coming back full force. “Sometimes it’s a hard-boiled gangster chasing you on top of a transfer truck; sometimes it’s a plastic bag flying off the pavement and around your head.”
“Maybe that’s the real reason why recycling is so important,” you quip. A few more steps, and the two of you are standing at the door to the art trailer, the pink rays of sunrise beginning to touch the tops of your heads. “Well, here���s my stop. Thanks again for talking with me. It really means a lot.”
Colt nods, a genuine smile crossing his face. “I couldn’t let things be strained between us. Who would patch together the props I destroy in every take?” he teases you.
“Who would destroy the handmade props I painstakingly create every day?”
“Publicity stunts wouldn’t have been the same without you to critique my color coordinating choices.”
“I was really going to miss you sneaking me a packet of Mini Muffins every morning.”
“Consider the Mini Muffins sneaked.”
You grin at that, and Colt’s heart speeds up a few beats just at the sight. He’s glad to have this image — your captivating smile, framed by the pastel light of the sunrise, happiness sparkling in your eyes — to replace the one from last night.
You don’t say a word before turning to open the door to the art trailer, clearly needing some space, so Colt turns to walk away, but the door doesn’t close behind you. When he turns back to face you, you’re lingering in the doorway, an unreadable expression on your face. Colt hesitates, not sure what you expect from him, but he’s cut off by you closing the distance between the two of you and wrapping your arms around his neck.
What what what what what what WHAT WHAT WHAT—
Colt isn’t sure this is the best idea, but he certainly isn’t going to make the mistake of pushing you away again. Instead, he lets his arms fold around your waist, pulling you close against him. Every muscle in his body aches to hold you as tight as he can, and it takes all his self-control not to lift his head up a few inches, to whisper in your ear, You’re every sweet dream I’ve ever had. You’re everything I hoped love would turn out to be.
You don’t make a move to release him, and suddenly Colt realizes: this is your way of letting go of him. You’re taking one last moment to savor this closeness before you resign yourself to a simple friendship and an inevitable goodbye. With that realization, Colt grips you tighter, lets his face rest in the crook of your neck while he breathes you in.
The sun keeps rising, and still you hold onto each other as if this is the last time you’ll ever see each other.
Colt feels your arms loosen their hold around his neck slightly, and he takes that as a cue to release the death-grip he has around your waist. He didn’t realize he could feel your pounding heart against his chest until you’ve pulled back a few inches.
He’s surprised, though, when you don’t get go of him completely. You let your hands rest on his broad shoulders, your eyes searching his own for some answer that you can’t quite grasp. It’s as if you know he’s holding something back — as if you can tell how deeply he feels for you just by the way he stays absorbed in the warmth of your gaze.
A sad smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and you lift one hand to rest on the side of Colt’s face. His heart instantly starts rocketing again, and all he can imagine is that you’re finally going to go for the kiss that has almost happened three times now. He holds his breath, knowing that he can’t trust himself not to seize you and kiss you with all the passion he’s holding inside.
Your fingertips trace the side of his face slowly, intimately, traveling over his cheekbone, down his jaw, right under his lips. His skin feels like it’s burning from the inside, incinerating him with heat. He knows he’s still holding your waist too tight for someone who is “just a friend,” but holding you is the only thing keeping him sane right now.
Your gaze slips down for a fraction of a second, landing on the spot where your fingers are resting tenderly. Colt’s hands are shaking from the tension. All he can think of is how close your lips are to his, how effortless it would be to lean forward a few inches and live out the daydream he’s had a thousand times before. He doesn’t even blink, unwilling to miss a second of being this close to you again.
Finally, finally, you take mercy on him and lift your fingers from his face, your own expression betraying the level of affection you feel. Right now, all Colt wants to do is close his eyes and let you trail your fingers over his face for the rest of his life, but your touch is already gone, and he finally feels like he can breathe again.
You take an unhurried step back, your eyes never leaving his. Your hands slowly slide down from his shoulders, his letting go of your waist at the same time. The distance between you suddenly feels miles wide, and it’s quite obvious that both of you want to close it again.
But neither of you does.
“Okay,” you murmur, eyes drifting across his face. The early morning sunlight is dancing through the strands of your hair, alighting on the dust particles in the air to create a mystical glow around your face. “I should go.”
Colt barely even registers his own response, still so dazed from the past few moments. “Me, too.”
You take a step inside the art trailer door, eyes hazy. “See you later?”
“Of course.”
You give him one last soft smile and walk into the art trailer. But Colt stands in the light of the rising sun for a long time after you’ve gone.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
Part 5
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kingshovelbug · 2 days
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Hii what is your best advice to younger adults trying to make it independently and make a living? In art, savings or anything you think of. Thank you in advance!
dont be too hard on yourself. its tough out there right now in regards to like everything regardless of what old people say. also this is going to be a lot so im slapping a read more on here
⭐️ first thing id recommend for anyone is to start figuring out a budget. figure out how much youre making monthly. keep all your food receipts for a month or two to see what youre spending on food. find out what youre paying for thats necessary like utilities and whats not
the goal for a budget (or at least mine) is to find a good balance of earning vs spending. im paying off my credit card right now because i ran through all my savings after we had to move last year but my goal used to be to save 1/4 of what i earned after bills and putting money into an emergency fund (usually an emergency fund is 3 months worth of expenses). but it depends on how much you can comfortably put away. if you can put more away do it. but if you never spend money and deprive yourself of joy youre going to burn yourself out regardless of what your job is
⭐️ if youre not already buy store brand for as much shit as you can. if its an ingredient i promise as someone who cooks and bakes you probably wont notice the difference. if its an actual snack it depends. again both from a money perspective and to boycott pro-isreal companies we get a lot of snacks from aldis and theyre awesome. i dont miss anything from mars, oreos etc when i have my chocolate coconut wafers
⭐️ if you have any subscriptions and you need to get rid of something you can probably cancel them. for *most* things theres some kind of free alternative. but again just like with a budget. there are going to be some subscriptions that make your life easier and while youd save money without them it would lead to extra work and burning out. ex willow has kofi gold because it has really cool extra features that help with running the shop. but for streaming services? im going to be so honest. both to save money and with how cheeky streaming companies (in a bad way) have been getting… you can find whatever you want to watch online for free
if you need to use anything from the microsoft office suite, but youre not required by youre job to specifically use microsoft, libreoffice is a free alternative that i actually like better. its what i use to help willow run their shop and its free
for art programs. if you still have photoshop switch. not just for money reasons. adobe is getting bold with what they can claim as their content and use from what people produce in their program. the switch isnt the easiest but there are a bunch of alternatives. some free some like csp offer one time licenses which are so much better than subscriptions. will has spent almost $2k on photoshop and after effects from using it as long as they have. when csp is $50 and they like csp better anyways. i also know of krita and fire alpaca which are free
⭐️ also theres stuff about being an adult that i thought you had to pay for but you dont? like for car insurance i went through an independent insurance agent and they found me a cheaper plan than i could find myself. i didnt pay the guy. they get a cut from the insurance company for finding them another customer. some banks or credit cards offer financial advising sessions to users. its boring but if you can get a copy of your health insurance see if they have any free shit on there thats available for you. my brother gets free doctor finding? like i can call them, tell them what specialist he needs and instead of me calling around to find one that can take him, they connect me with someone. my work offers 3 free therapy sessions (better than nothing) and free food that i take advantage of
⭐️ i think one of the biggest things that makes an impact for us is researching before buying stuff. sounds like a no brainer but you dont just want to find the cheapest deal. you want to find the best bargain, the best bang for your buck. whats the best quality thing you can get that you can also afford? itll prevent your from having to replace stuff all the time and by extension spending more than you need to. we have nonstick pots and pans that are scratched and starting to peel (which apparently can cause cancer??) that were cheap because of being on sale. now after looking into what makes quality cookware i know i should of just slowly bought stainless steel
⭐️ last big one. credit cards. unfortunately we need them so find one with a low apr and that offers decent cash back. use it up to like 20% of your limit and pay it off every month. focus on using it on things that will get you cash back so you can essentially get free money
im sure i could ramble more but this is already super long
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devilart2199-aibi · 2 days
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IDW collection reading update! :D 📖 (Fixed!)
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Phase 2 volume 4 done! This volume included: Monstrosity, RID issues 12-18 and MTMTE issues 14-16!
I ended up reading all the way to Phase 2 volume 6 before finishing this update so my notes are a bit scattered! Anyway! As usual my thoughts are below :3 ⤵️
Monstrosity:
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This story is set in the past, when Optimus has assumed leadership on Cybertron after the senate and pervious primes were killed.
This story is, I dunno... For some reason I can't really get into these?? It feels... edgy?? Idk, I feel like that's not the best way to describe it. But there's something about the vibe with these ones in the past (like Autocracy and this one).
Of course everyone is becoming the characters we know since this is in the past. So there is going to be a lot of fumbling and growing from them and things that seem out of character. But given their situation at the time, i can't be super harsh on odd decisions.
They have to deal with the senate and their corruption, as well as that from the previous primes, the Decepticons uprising and wanting to take over, Cybertron running out of resources aaaaand I feel like something else I can't remember rn 🤔 but a lot is going on!! Haha.
There is a scene that references the OG animated movie where they toss Megatron out of Astrotrain and he goes "I still function...!" Which was a pretty cool homage tho.
But this kinda felt like a whole way to just show how badass Megs is meanwhile Optimus is going through it on Cybertron 😂 It was entertaining and interesting at parts, but some things I was 'eh' about
RID: 12-16:
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Before i go on, I'm sorry, but... this Megs panel is giving me the same energy as that little alien guy that was in the news months ago 🤣 Now actually⤵️
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Megatron returns!! This story was very entertaining!! I feel like I can usually guess where something is going, but I was surprised by a lot of the twists here! There was so many!
The character deaths had me shook! 😭 Wheeljack ahhhh!!! Metalhawk!! Also everything with Prowl and the Constructions! O_O;
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I'm sorry Prowl 😔 I was pretty surprised when they started killing off the Decepticons at first, but then went: "Well, I guess he's being super ruthless now" I couldn't see you were brainwashed!! 😭🗿To my defense, him teaming up with Arcee and given Arcee's record, it kinda seemed like the natural progression of things lol 💀
Two things I kinda have mixed feelings about tho are:
1. Arcee just casually being part of the Decepticon gang and no one questioning her being there?? She then easily kills the guy controlling Devastator and that was like... Megatron's big plan. Why didn't she do it sooner? I imagine it was to draw out Meg's, but still it seemed weird.
2. Starscream killing Metalhawk after Metalhawk came to save Starscream. It's in his character and everything, and I'm happy that he did it bc it shows who he is. But OOF I thought he was leaning a different way for a bit and that I had Starscream wrong, But no, he's greedy boy. (I was starting to like Metalhawk T_T)
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Anyway! Good guy Swindle!! 🥹
MTMTE 14-16:
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💀💀💀💀💀 BIG SAD. But!!! It was a super interesting story!! I really enjoyed learning about Overlord and Chromedome.
Chromedome becoming Trepan's apprentice in the past was crazy!! :O And the whole scene with him and Prowl in Prowl's office. When Prowl asks/threatens Chromedome to go into Overlord's mind 😙👌 *chef's kiss* GET 'EM CHROMEDOME!! 💪👊🔪
The whole thing about how the Phase Sixers are made was very interesting too!! This frame ⤵️ Meg's saying this made me lmao 😂 I can now see the thing between him and Overlord better now.
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As for Overlord getting out and obliterating some of the crew... ughhhhh 😭😭😭 Pipes man!! Ratchet protecting the medibay was awesome. Best doctor 🚑😌
I was shocked during the fight with Overlord that Magnus got so injured!! I've read ahead already, but I was sweating it, I thought he was gonna die too 😭😭 Overlord goes right for your spark man 💀
Luckily they got Overlord back to his containment cell, but- 😭😭😭😭 LITTLE MAN 😭😭😭 Why'd he have to hop in there to get the sword??? OTL
Then Chromedome blowing it up once the cell disengaged from the ship 😭 It was a perfectly painful sequence! 👏
When I saw the scene with Whirl and the cannon/ blaster shooting asteroids, I knew it would come around 😔
Also!! Learning that Chromedome has had other deep connections with bots (idk if Brainstorm meant Conjunx' specifically) and given them his innermost energon before and that's why he's dry!! Excuse me as I sob 🤧🤧🤧🤧😭😭😭😭 and then he makes himself forget!!! UGHH OTL My heart man!
The tape that Rewind made too!! 😭🤧
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Drift taking one for the team too by getting banished 😔 he's a real one. Also pls come back.
RID 17-18:
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We got more Shockwave lore here and I'm a big Shockwave enjoyer so I was very happy!! More heartache of course tho 😢
Him pitching/making the Jhiaxian academy of advanced technology is huge. Then all the experiments he did once he was turned purple 💀💀💀
Him going to Dai Atlas and injuring him before the attack on the senate so that he would escape death was a cool surprise. He's still in there ;_; ahhhh.
There is another story that happens in current time where Bee gets turned into Goldbug, but I think he's called "Goldfire" here? 🤔 He really got injured during the whole thing with Meg's so they had to fix him up with pieces of his old earth form.
It was cool to see included in the story :3
Final Random Thoughts:
This volume had a bunch of great stories in it! And I learned quite a bit about characters I like!
Though it was sad, I'd say my favorite story was the mtmte one with Overlord (The Overlord arc?). The art is always fantastic and so is the story!
I look forward to reading more and I'll be making another reading update very soon since I'm already on volume 6!
I didn't want to lump them all together bc I like using images as the story breaks and Tumblr only let's you use 10 per post 😔 Also... I ramble quite a lot haha, so 3 volumes worth would definitely be too much! 😂
Anyway! See you next time! 👋
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