#I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS SINCE LAST YEAR.

[vbecker10]

I Don't Hate You

Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)

Summary: You've worked at SHIELD for years and you were severely injured by Loki when he escaped from his cell on the helicarrier. It's been a year since the attack on NY and one day you finally cross paths with Loki after a month of him actively avoiding you.

Warning: Loki being upset, Loki feeling guilty, Loki feeling like he deserves to be hated, brief mentions of Loki's torture, previous injury caused by Loki... this will have a fluffy end, promise 💚

You shift positions to get more comfortable on the couch then turn the page of your book. I might be able read this whole book tonight, you think excitedly. The Tower was quiet which was a rare occurrence, the whole team decided to go out for drinks so you have the library to yourself. After a moment, you turn the next page but suddenly you feel as if you aren't alone.

Looking up, you see Loki standing in the doorway as if he is frozen with anxiety. He briefly makes eye contact with you and turns to leave.

"Wait," you sit up, closing your book in your lap. "You can stay," you offer and he turns back to face you. "There's plenty of space," you gesture towards the other empty couch.

"I wouldn't want to disturb you," he says, shaking his head as he remains halfway between the hall and the room.

You sigh quietly, that's the first thing he's said to you in the month since you've been back from medical leave. Loki had become almost an expert in avoiding you, the closest you had come to being in the same room with him was during a briefing last week. As soon as you took your seat at the table, he excused himself and left.

He nods in response to your offer to join you but doesn't say anything. He quietly makes his way over to the large bookcases that line the wall and begins to search for a book. You try to focus on where you left off in yours but you can't seem to take your eyes off him. He seems so nervous around you and although you aren't sure what you expected from him, this wasn't it.

He selects a book and walks to the far end of the other couch, glancing towards you as he sits. You both quickly look away from each other and try to settle into your books. After a few minutes of silence he sighs and closes the book. You pretend to continue reading as you watch him return his book and begin the process of selecting one again.

"Can't decide what to read?" you ask after a moment.

He turns, his expression clearing showing that he doesn't expect you to speak to him. He shrugs, "I've read all of these..." He looks at the book he is currently holding, "Some more then a few times."

"Oh," you look at the tall, full shelves. There must be four hundred books in this room. "Wow," you react honestly.

"I read quickly," he offers a simple explanation.

"Why don't you get new ones?" you ask as if the solution is obvious.

He puts the book he is holding away and looks down at the ground, "I'm not permitted to leave the Tower unless its for a mission." He pulls a seemingly random book from the shelf and walks over to the closest seat on the other couch this time.

"Right, I forgot I guess," you suddenly feel awkward for suggesting it.

Loki was given strick orders not to leave the Tower after an incident a few months before you returned from medical leave. He had gone to a small Cafe with his brother in the morning and ended up on the news a few hours later. According to the reports you watched from rehab, he had been on line waiting for his order when a woman who lost her husband during his attack on NYC came in. She walked over to him and started screaming that he was a monster and should be rotting in a cell on whatever planet he came from. Thor tried to defuse the situation while Loki remained completely silent. Her rant finally ended when she threw some bystanders coffee at him and he left.

The two of you sit in silence for a minute then you suddenly get an idea. "Oh," you say and he looks up from the book he has no interest in.

"I think I have something that can help," you tell him. You limp slowly towards him as you unlock your phone. Sitting next to him, you feel self conscious when he shifts away from you, his eyes fixed on the metal brace supporting your leg.

His jaw tightens and his body tenses as he rubs his hands slowly together. You clear your throat, hoping to distract him from your injury and it works. He looks at you, "Here," you hand him your phone.

"What is this?" he asks.

"Its the New York Public Library," you tell him, "Well, their website at least."

He looks at you a bit confused. "What am I supposed to do with this? I'm not allowed to go to the library," he says.

"You don't need to go," you tell him with a smile. "They can bring the books here."

"I wonder why no one told you about this. They've had this for years," you say.

His eyes fill with excitement at the thought of being able to get new books. You explain the book delivery program then show him how to search for books by author, title or genre. His smile spreads as you sign him up for a library card then sit back to watch him scroll through a long list of poets.

The smile leaves his face and he admits, "I never told anyone that I had run out of books."

"Why not?" you ask.

"No one would care," he answers instantly.

When you don't say anything, he looks up from your phone and briefly makes eye contact with you. "I don't understand why you of all people would care enough to help me, to be honest. I have done nothing to deserve even the smallest kindness from you," he says as his eyes fall to your injured leg again. The joy you had seen on his face moments ago has faded completely and in a low voice he says, "I nearly killed you."

With a sigh, he nods, "I remember everyone I've hurt... or killed."

You're caught off guard by the sudden shift in topics but say, "I thought you remembered me."

"Can we just talk for a minute?" you ask, standing with him.

You gently reach out and touch his knee, causing him to jump at the sudden contact. "I'm sorry," he says as soon as you touch him. "I should go," he tells you and he gets up.

He shakes his head. "I'm not supposed to be alone with you," he admits. "Fury wants me as far from my..." he clears his throat, "victims as possible while I am here."

He looks torn about what to do but finally nods and sits down heavily. You sit next to him again but he doesn't look at you, his eyes are fixed on his hands. His knee shakes nervously and you realize he's waiting for you to lash out at him as so many people have in the wake of the attack.

"I- I didn't realize he did that," you say in shock. "I thought you were just avoiding me because of... well because of what happened."

He shrugs but doesn't respond, giving you the feeling that he might still have distanced himself from you even if he wasn't ordered to do so.

You bite your lip and say, "I'm sure Fury means well but... I just want to talk to you. If that's okay with you?"

You had imagined this moment so many times over the last year. What you would say to him and how he would react. You look at him even as he avoids looking at you and say, "I just want to to know, I don't hate you for what happened."

He shakes his head as if he doesn't believe you and says, "You should hate me, everyone does."

"I don't," you tell him simply.

He finally looks at you, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity in his eyes, "How could you not after what I did to you and so many others?"

You sigh and admit, "I used to hate you."

"But... but not anymore?" he asks.

You take a deep breath, this is the part you practiced telling him most often. "When I was in the hospital, I did hate you. I hated you more then I ever thought I could possibly hate another person. I wanted you to feel the pain and fear you inflicted on me when you were escaping. I wanted you to suffer after every surgery, after every fall I had in rehab, after every doctor told me I would never walk without some sort of brace," you tell him honestly and he nods as if he agrees with you.

You pause for a moment and wait for him to look at you again, "It was truly exhausting."

He doesn't say anything but he keeps eye contact with you. "It took so much energy to hate to," you tell him. "It was draining me."

"A few months after my first surgery, I had some of the agents I'm friends with being over your case files and I watched all your news interviews," you continue to explain.

"Why?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

"I wanted to know if you were as evil as everyone said, if you were really a monster from another world who deserved to be hated," you tell him.

"I am a monster," he says, his eyes lowering to the ground in front of him.

His body tenses as soon as you mention Thanos's name. His eyes widen in fear and he says, "What do you know about- how could you know that? My SHIELD files doesn't contain any information about him."

"No," you tell him, touching his arm lightly and he looks up at you slowly. "You're not a monster, you're a victim of Thanos."

You fidget nervously at his reaction and say, "I... I found the restricted files SHIELD has about you, the ones with your interview-"

He gets up suddenly, his voice laced emotion but you are unsure if he is angry, hurt or embarrassed, "You read that?"

You nod, "I'm sorry-"

"No one was supposed to be able to access that. Fury said it would be sealed, that was why I agreed to tell my brother what happened," he says as he paces. He turns to face you and you can see he is holding back tears, "You shouldn't have read that. I don't want anyone to know what he did to me."

You had read all twenty six pages of the typed transcripts and listened to hours of Loki detailing his torture to Thor. He spoke about being physically hurt but also about being mentally broken by the mad titan. He lost track of time, unsure if weeks, months or years had passed while he was under Thanos's control. By the time you finished listening to his account of what happened, you had lost every ounce of hate you once harbored for him. He was more a victim than anyone.

You take a step towards him and he takes a step back, shaking his head. You reach for his hand and he lets you hold it without pulling away. "Loki," he looks at you, the first tear running down his cheek. "I'm sorry Thanos tortured you," you tell him honestly.

He shakes his head as if he can't accept your words.

You take another step towards him, still holding his hand in yours. "I'm sorry he hurt you," you say again and this time he doesn't move away from you.

"No one..." he tries to take a deep breath, "No one has ever said that to me before."

Now it's your turn to be shocked, "Not even your brother?"

He shakes his head and without thinking, you wrap your arms around him tightly. His whole body stiffens in response at first but slowly, he lifts his arms to hug you back and his body relaxes against yours. He rests his head on your shoulder and you rub his back gently.

You hold him until he slowly pulls away. Taking his hand again, you lead him back to the couch.

"You didn't deserve anything that he did to you," you tell him. When he looks at you, you can't help but raise your hand, wiping a tear from his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into your soft touch.

He opens his eyes after a moment and quietly says, "Thank you Y/N. I'm so tired of everyone hating me. I never thought anyone would ever try to understand what happened to me."

You smile at him and quickly kiss his cheek, which is a surprise to both of you. "What was that for?" he asks, a small laugh escapes him.

He smiles and nods, "Can you do it again?"

"I don't know," you admit with a nervous giggle, "I just... It felt like something I should do. I'm sorry, was that okay?"

You smile and kiss his cheek again, "Is that making you feeling better?"

"For the first time in a very long time, yes," he says.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

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[laneywrld]

things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part one

word count: 9.2k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

There's no way for a friends-with-benefits agreement to fail when both parties understand the rules.

"Do you ever get tired?" 

Lewis turns his head to look at her inquisitively.

"What do you mean by that, Clem?" He chuckles.

Clem turns over onto her side, propping her head up in one hand.

"Do you think about having a life of your own without racing but with a family, a wife, and kids? Do you ever want to go home and stay home?"

Lewis stares Clementine in her dark eyes before he turns and looks back up at the blank ceiling.

"I don't know." He whispered into the air. "I don't have much time to think about things like that, serious relationships and such." He winces as he says the words.

"You're not hurting me, Lew, I know what this arrangement is. I was just curious." Clem chuckled, plopping back onto her back. She pulls the covers up to conceal her bare chest.

They lie in silence again, and Lewis is left to think about what she'd just asked him.

He spent a lot of his time in a serious relationship, and immediately after that ended, he was in his single bachelor phase; somehow, as the years went on, it never ended. That's how he's gotten Clementine in his bed.

Of all the girls he chose to spend his time with, Clementine was easily his favorite. She wasn't artificial or an ass-kisser to him; she was simply herself. And Lewis wasn't used to coming across women like that, given his status and all.

Clementine was actually the complete opposite of every other girl in his rotation. She was younger than him, yes, but she was also smart and had dreams she wanted to achieve on her own. He liked to joke that everything about her screamed old lady. Clementine liked that. 

What's cooler than an old lady? 

"I'm going to take that as a compliment. I can't wait to get old; there's beauty in knowing you've lived; I know I'm going to spend my life fulfilling my potential. It'd be cool to be an eccentric old lady, just happy and peaceful. Content with life."

It was entirely by chance that he ran into her at all that night two years ago. He had been taking a late-night walk in the streets of New York when he first saw her. 

Initially, her style caught his attention, but the closer he got to her, the more noticeable was her smile and then her voice. God, she had the voice of an angel. She had that classic American drawl, so sultry and sweet like she was straight out of the fifties but with a twist. 

Then he realizes that he's seen her before, and he stops in his tracks, trying to pinpoint where exactly he'd recognized her gorgeous face from.

"Do I know you?" Lewis questions confidently.

Clem halts, her lips puckering in as she squints at the unfamiliar man. "Sorry, Sir. I don't think so."

She surely doesn't recognize him.

And then it clicks, he snaps. "My photographer, Timothy McGurr!"

"Oh wow," she smiles. "I love Timmy. You said he's your photographer?" 

"Yes, for the last four years."

"Wow, four years." She marvels, "You model?"

"No." He laughs, shaking his head, "I race cars."

"Nascar?" She wonders, tilting her head to the side.

"Formula One." He corrects, and she hums, impressed.

"I've heard serious things about you guys over there. Anyhow, it was nice meeting you," she trails off, allowing him to introduce himself.

"Lewis." He sticks his hand out, "Lewis Hamilton."

As she shakes his hand, her phone lights up with a notification just as a black SUV pulls in. "That's me. It was a pleasure meeting you Mr, Hamilton." She smiles kindly, and then she slips into the vehicle and rides off into the night. 

Lewis stands there for a second. He doesn't know why, but he feels drawn to her for some reason.

The very next morning, he called his photographer for her details. Lewis has always been rather bold, so he isn't nervous when he dials her number. "Hi, Clementine?"

And the rest was history.

Lewis has learned one specific thing about Clem since their rendezvous began. She was an intense person. She liked to talk about any and everything. Lewis didn't mind it, though. It was nice to unpack with someone he knew wouldn't judge him.

She had a way of making anything she asked feel deep. Lewis was both enamored and intimidated by that.

Just as she was intuitive, she was equally as open. Lewis knew he could always bounce the question back to her, and she'd give him the most well-thought-out and theoretical answer. 

He loved listening to her talk just as much as he loved fucking her. 

"Do you ever get tired?" He ricochets.

"All of the time, and it's sad because I'm still so young, but I often wonder if any of this is even worth it. Is slaving away so hard going to be worth it in the future if I've spent my glory days basking in trying to find glory."

"I have faith in you, Clem. You're already lightyears ahead of the rest of us with that mind of yours."

She chuckles, and they bask in the comfortable silence for a while longer, both looking up at the ceiling of his New York penthouse like they're staring out into the galaxy.

"Do you feel like you have enough glory?"

"No," he answers honestly, "I won't be content until I reclaim my eighth." 

From the corner of his eye, he sees her head lull to the side and stare at him. Lewis doesn't get uncomfortable when Clem stares at him like he does when most people do. The idea of her reading into him is flattering more than unsettling.

"If you weren't a driver, what would you want to be?"

"A designer of all sorts, really. Music, fashion, you name it." He lists off, and she lets out an mhhm sound. 

"I can actually see that. You have a very creative mind." She praises.

"What about you? What would Clementine Russell be doing right now if she wasn't an actress?"

She chuckles, "Well, for starters, I wouldn't be naked in your bed. I'd probably be somewhere in the middle of nowhere, like Montana." She gasps, "Yeah, Montana! And I'd have a farm full of animals that I'd never eat, and I'd go out and sit and paint or write more stories that no one would ever see. If I could go back in time, I'd just write my stories, not play in them. I would hike the same mountain every day and watch the sunset. Yeah, I'd sit and watch the sunset every day and admire how beautiful everything becomes. "

For some reason, that statement holds a more significant sentiment than she intended.

"You sure do have a way with words."

"I try." 

Silence falls over that pair again until she breaks it.

"Do you think I'm annoying?"

"No, never." Lewis reveals, "I actually like having you here to talk to; why do you ask?"

"Sometimes I feel like I talk too much and ask too many questions."

"I think you make people feel seen when you ask questions the way you do." He hums. "Do people ask you questions?"

"No, not really." 

"Do you wish people asked you questions, Clem?"

"Yes."

That's when Lewis realizes that all that glimmers isn't gold. Clementine Walker had the life of a star. She could do anything she wanted at any given time. Yet she wasn't content with her life. She was actually rather lonely. 

"I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something." She chuckles dryly. "That's pathetic."

And suddenly, Lewis feels terrible for not asking the woman more questions. He feels like a shit person for receiving her and giving her nothing in return. Clementine was better than therapy for him; who gave therapy to her?

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk? I consider you to be a friend Clem. I like listening to you. I like hearing about you, too."

"Okay."

"We can start now?"

"You first." She has a giddy smile on her face as she turns over to face him.

"Why do you think you feel everything so deeply?"

She hums, her eyes casting downward as she allows the question to ruminate. 

"I expect everything to be meaningful. I have a hard time seeing anything objectively. Everything has to mean something to me, and if it doesn't, what's the point? If it has no purpose, how am I supposed to accept it? I feel so deeply because every word, action, and situation has to mean something; there has to be a reason behind it. I've never had someone tell me that things weren't that deep; I wasn't taught to brush things off; I was taught to feel and to try to understand everything and everyone."

"I think that's beautiful. You're such a gracious being, you know that?"

She whispers a quiet thanks as she thinks over what to ask him.

"What's one thing you lost as a kid that you wish you could get back?"

"I had a remote-controlled big Homer car when I was a kid, and I used to drive it in the park every day. I got distracted one day and left without it; when I came back the next day, it was gone."

"Who gave it to you?" Clem inquires, and when Lewis turns onto his side to face her, she looks so intrigued by what he has to say. He doesn't think anyone has ever cared so much for what he has to say if it wasn't involving his career.

"My dad, for my sixth birthday. We were poor, so it meant a lot to me; I really cherished it. Felt like I took it for granted, I loved that car so much, but I left it. How could I forget something that important to me?"

Naturally, Lewis opens up to Clementine.

"You can love something and still lose it, which illustrates how much you adore it in the end. You never really know how much you appreciate something until you no longer have it." Clem enlightens.

Lewis wonders how her brain can process such complex thoughts in mere seconds.

"What have you lost?"

"A letter from my dad." Clem hums. "When he was in prison before things got bad with my mom and he stopped reaching out, I was turning eight, and he sent this beautiful card. It was Clementine orange, and when you opened it, a three-dimensional cake popped out with like a million yellow candles. I remember it saying these candles don't compare to the light you brought to the world on this day many years ago." Clem chuckles as she describes the elaborate birthday card. She picks at Lewis' sheets as she speaks.

He sees her lips pressed together, and she turns to face the ceiling again. She doesn't seem like she intends to keep talking.

"I'm listening, y'know. I'd love to hear more." Under the covers, his hand travels down until it catches hold of Clems. 

"I-um, He wrote his message in like really elegant cursive, and I was a kid at the time, so I had my grandpa read it to me over and over, like every day, until I had fully memorized it. I had never seen my dad in person. I had never heard his voice, not even over the phone. I had never even gotten a letter from him before. Still, the things he wrote in that letter were beautiful. I remember feeling a little less lonely as if he loved me unconditionally. There were dried tears embedded in the paper material. I knew he cried as he wrote it, and that made me feel like, damn, this is a man who means what he says, feels exactly what he writes. I don't know when I lost that letter or how I just knew when I went for it again. It was nowhere to be found. I'm forgetting the words he wrote to me."

"Have you heard from him since?"

"Once but not directly. When I turned fifteen, he was released. He felt like he wouldn't know how to be a father when he got out. Which I understood. I can't force anyone to have a relationship with me. It must’ve been hard going in when your child is an infant and coming out to her fully bloomed. He cried on the phone to my grandpa every time he argued with my mom. She'd say nasty things to him, like how he'd never be a father to me and how I was better off. I figured when you're locked in a cell, and all you can think about is going home to your child, it must’ve been hard to hear that you would never account for anything. I believe he gave up. Not everyone is strong enough to take on that kind of mental battle."

Even as Clementine describes how fucking sucky her childhood was, she is still showing grace to the people who ruined her innocence.

"He never asked to speak to me during these calls. My mother always kept him at a distance when he was in prison. If he had written more letters than the one he sent to my grandpa, like he wrote that he did, I never got them. She was good at telling him that she didn't want him in my life. I don't blame her either; neither of them was ready to be parents. I got a call on my eighteenth birthday. It was just breathing on the other side for a while. I had a feeling it was him, so I didn't hang up, but it was a gravely voice on the other end and he sounded a little choked up. Said the exact same line from my birthday card, I'm not sure if you like cake, but eat a lot of it today princess. Happy birthday. And then the call disconnected. Kind of fucked me up a little bit because I think I was just getting to a point where I was finally okay with not having parents."

"I'm sorry." Lewis solaces. 

"It's cool, builds character." She jokes dropping her elbow and lying completely on her side.

"I pride you on your gracefulness, truly."

"My grandpa always told me that if you can find grace in failings, life becomes more beautiful. If you can find grace in every situation, eventually, those graces will catch up to you. Everyone deserves to have grace; who am I to hold something above someone else because of how it made me feel? You never know what made someone act the way they did. In the end, it may have affected them more than me, but as long as I'm gracious and I consider these kind of things to be a possibility it makes it easier for me."

Lewis thinks back to all the times he handled situations without grace, when he allowed himself to blow up over small things, and how, in the end, it made situations worse than they needed to be. He internally hums at the realization.

"Shit." 

She is shuffling from his bed, sheets clutched tightly against his chest. 

She gracefully moves around his room, the sheets fitting her like a gown. Lewis props himself up on one arm, watching her gather her belongings. 

When she tosses the sheet back onto the bed, he watches as she pulls on her pants and steals his button-up to throw over her thin tank top.

She sits on the edge of his bed, throwing on her worn Adidas sambas. 

"It's been a blast, Sir Hamilton." She bows, and he softly launches a pillow at her. She catches it with a sweet grin and places it at his feet. "I have to be on set early tomorrow. My assistant sent a car for me."

"I'll call you when I'm back in town," he suggests, and she nods, letting out a noise of agreement as she saunters over to his bedroom door. 

"Be safe out there on the track." She blows him a kiss, and then she is gone, and he hears his front door close gently. 

Lewis likes spending time with Clem. She has a way of taking every ounce of stress from his bones.

Lewis wasn't a relationship kind of guy, and he liked that Clem understood that. She wasn't trying to force a relationship on him or was convinced she could change his mind. 

Clem was there for the great sex and the even better conversations. The two of them had made great friends out of each other, and they were both content with the status of their association.

Lewis never told Clementine this, but he liked watching her work. He liked how she could put out art, and he could resonate with it. Lewis thinks that Clem is the most emotionally intelligent person he's ever met, which is why everything she puts her hands on just works.

And it shows. Clementine is the kind of person whose words sound like they're straight from classic literature. She has a way of speaking that instantly captivates every person in her proximity.

Clementine was a Jill of trades. She liked to act, but she was an even better writer. This is why she was awarded co-director of her award-winning show after helping to direct only three episodes. He knew she had a knack for all things creative. She liked to draw, paint, and read, and she had a thing for tattoos just as much as he did.

Clementine was actually so fucking cool.

People loved her naturally; she only had to be herself, and it made people gravitate towards her. 

Being around Clem was like having the hands of an angel on you. It was impossible to feel troubled, even if you were going through the most unfortunate or stressful circumstances. If you had Clem, trust you'd feel nirvana.

Her words echo in his mind. I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something.

He switches on his television and clicks on the Netflix app. It's the first option under his 'continue watching' category, and he presses resume. 

Lewis loved her show, though he never admitted it. It was artsy and different than what was new and hot now. Clem channeled all of her favorites to make this show. He remembers her describing her obsession with Jim Carrey and The Truman Show. Her favorite movie of all time was Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, and her favorite character also shared her name. 

He knew that Clementine cried when she read Tuesdays with Morrie, just like she did when she watched Requiem for a Dream. She had an odd obsession with The Joker movie and was even more obsessed with the lore of how each Joker is portrayed differently. She always saw herself in Charlie, from the perks of being a wallflower.

She rewatched What's Eating Gilbert Grape at least once a week. If you asked her, Tim Burton was the best director in the world, and she had a special connection to Edward Scissorhands. She also loved anything with a narrator.

She was right. It makes you feel each character a little bit more to hear their every thought.

He now knows that she likes to narrate her own show because she likes to talk about what she feels. No one asks her how she feels.

Everything that Clem likes is so deep and complex, and it fits her perfectly. 

He must admit that he had never heard of any of these shows, movies, or books before meeting Clementine. But seeing how passionately she described them had him desperate to enlighten himself. He sees the inspiration of it all in her show. 

Every episode starts with a question. Clem appears facing away from the camera, an oversized Carhartt denim jacket adorning her frame. He sees that she is sitting on a mountain, a camera held to her face, taking pictures of the most scenic view he's ever seen.

Her voice emerges through the speaker, yet her mouth is unmoving.

"You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever, everything unchanged and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

The camera is still panned out but moves to the side, where he views her relaxed frame from the side. As the camera zooms in she breaks the fourth wall, turning to face the camera. The sky is oddly vividly blue in the background and the clouds are all weirdly perfect. 

"Probably here."

As the sun sets, the sky adorned in perfect warm hues, she sets the camera beside her and folds her hands in her lap. She turns to face the beautiful view, and she looks more content with life than she's ever seen.

Her voice rings through the speaker again as the camera pans out, and her body begins to look smaller and smaller against the vast sky.

"You can still see the sunset even on the darkest of days.”

-

The next time Lewis sees Clem is at her the Cannes movie festival.

She is obviously the lady of the hour, and he's had a hard time catching up with her. 

When he finally does see her, his breath hitches as she maneuvers through the crowd and away from the red carpet in a very elaborate gown. She looks like a princess.

Like she can feel his eyes on her, her head turns and she sees Lewis standing amongst a group of other celebrities. 

There are three people surrounding her. Zeus, her bodyguard, SK her assistant and finally her publicist Nia.

She approaches him, ready to greet him with a wide grin; Lewis has a grin of his own covering his face as he steps ahead of the group.

"Lewis, Hi!" She pitches, raising her arms to hug him; he happily accepts her embrace, wrapping his own around her frame. 

"Can't wait to see you on the big screen." He boosts, and she smiles up at him, ready to reply, when a hand clamps down over her wrist and begins pulling her away, "Sorry, got to keep going, Clem."

She offers him a rushed smile, lifting her dress so that she can exit with speed. Lewis has never once felt like the fan in a situation until it came to Clem.

"So the movie is going to be about cannibalism?" His friend asks, looking through the pamphlet.

"No," Lewis combats. "I mean, yes, but it's deeper than that, the flesh represents..." and he drones on describing the lore of her new movie, Bones and All.

His description is almost word for word the way you described it to him after he asked the same exact question.

"So it's a movie about eating people?"

Clementine laughed, shaking her head, and moved to sit against his headboard. Her skin was still flushed from their previous actions, and her mouth was dry. 

"Cannibalism is just the placeholder for many different vices. Everyone has their vices. By using something that damn near everyone looks down on, the symbolism of just how serious these issues are get understood tenfold. Think of it like this, you get mental illness from one parent, and the other denies that you have it. They believe you're perfect, nothing is wrong, but deep inside, there is this illness growing in you and festering out of control that you can't get help for, that won't be accepted."

"Imagine being homosexual, imagine not being able to express that, especially in the eighties; it becomes a bliss you have to satisfy in private. Something you must keep a secret, or something bad will happen to you. Some vices are passed on, like alcoholism or addiction, and even trauma can be passed on, like mental illness; it's about how you have to hide it all, how it catches up to you, and how it ruins you. If you watch it, think about that, Lewis. Think about what each character represents. What is the flesh they're eating?"

Lewis cries during the movie. He sees that he is not the only one as the lights illuminate the cinema, and there are no dry eyes in sight. Lewis would never understand how Clem was able to have such a complex mind and also make it so simple and still artistic to the point where anyone could understand.

Lewis usually hates being forced to attend film festivals. He especially dreads the standing ovations that drag on and on. But he graciously stands for the entire seventeen minutes that her movie receives. 

He's always told Clem that, at a certain point, she'd have to let that humbleness go. Lewis was a humble person, there was nothing wrong with it, but he didn't like that Clem thought she didn't deserve praise for her work. He wanted her to know she was the shit. 

He feels his heart swell with pride as she marvels at the cheers, whoops, whistles, and applause. 

He places his fingers between his lips, letting out a whistle of his own. It dominates the space, and she turns to face him like she knows it is him.

Clementine's grin grows impossibly larger, and she lifts her arm to wave at Lewis. He spreads his arms out in front of him and bows at her.

Clementine chuckles, shaking her head at him. 

Although she attends the film festival every year, this was her first time presenting her work as a director. This was a huge deal to her. Not only was she the star actress in the film, but this was hers. Her work, her words, her art, and people loved it and understood.

As two more dreamy minutes pass on and the cinema falls into an air of collective chatter, she folds her hands over her heart and speaks to her fellow costars. 

"Holy fucking shit," Timothee curses, "do you understand that we just got a nineteen-minute standing ovation?" He places her head between his hands, pulling it towards him and placing a kiss in her hair. "Fuck, Clem. You're a fucking creative genius, you know that?"

-

When Clementine finally got used to people she realized that she actually does like parties. Here she was being celebrated by people, some she knew, some she didn't all the way in France. 

She is in a mansion in France, fresh off the red carpet, throwing back shots with every pat on the back. There is a thrill in being praised, and with each pat on the back or congratulatory kiss on the cheek she gets, she feels herself levitating.

When Clementine first got the idea for the movie, she stayed awake for twenty-four hours, holed up in her bedroom, typing away at her keyboard as she planned and created rough drafts of a proposal. 

If you asked Clem, she doesn't think that she's a creative genius like everyone else believes. She thinks that she materializes how she feels into forms of art that people will understand. She doesn't sit and think long and hard or even look for targeted things to express. She just knows. 

Clem wanted to write a movie for those she felt had been denying themselves. For the kids confused about their feelings and things they can't control. From alcoholism, sexual identity, mental illness, addiction, and all the way to feeling lonely and navigating life on your own. She wanted to make a movie that materialized how it feels to come of age without understanding the purpose of life. And she'd done it.

Clem wouldn't say she was particularly close to any of the people here at the afterparty, minus Timothee. They had grown very close since filming together. 

Clem actually wouldn't say she was close to many people at all other than her small, tight-knit group of friends and, of course, Lewis. Which is ironic because their entire relationship is built on the basis of sex. 

She can't lie; when she first met Lewis, she was instantly attracted to him. He had a certain kind of charm about him that just screamed, You're going to respect me.

Clem liked that Lewis stood ten toes behind what he believed, always. She liked that he was genuinely a kind person and not just pretending for the media. What he put out was actually who he was, and Clementine wasn't used to seeing that in the celebrity world. 

Lewis fully intended to be friends with Clementine when he called her that first night, but the longer they were in each other’s presence, the more obvious it was to sense the lingering sexual tension between them.

Clem wasn't offended when Lewis admitted that he wanted to sleep with her and keep her around without the formalities of a romantic relationship.

In fact, she was fine with it. 

She didn't judge him when he explained how he wasn't a relationship kind of guy. She listened intently when he described how demanding his job was, and she even hummed along in agreement when he concluded that sex can sometimes just be fun.

It'd been two years since she first met Lewis; she was older and more mature. More demanding of herself. 

She was learning to let things go as the days passed and let things come when the world felt. 

She feels like she's gotten to know herself better, and she owes a lot of that to the nearly 40-year-old driver who has taken the time to unravel parts of her that no one else bothered. 

So when she sees Lewis walk through the grand entrance now dressed in a far more casual outfit than the black Louis Vuitton tuxedo that adorned his frame earlier, she can't help the way her smile makes her eyes crinkle.

She rushes from the bar, slipping past the guests, crowding the home, and speeds up the stairs as fast as her heels can take her. 

She lets her dress fall at her feet as she tosses on her own less formal outfit and descends the stairs again in search of her friend.

He sees her first, perched on the stairs with a concentrated face, and he chuckles at just how focused she looks. Her eyes are scanning the crowd, and he waits patiently until her eyes catch his.

When they finally meet, he raises his hand in a cool wave, and she grins, skipping down the stairs. He raises his brows when she finally makes it to him after being stopped time and time again by other partygoers.

"Lady of the hour, huh?" He jokes, pulling her into him. 

"I don't even know these people," she whispers, smiling softly and offering a wave as a drunken man passes by and calls out her name. She turns back to Lewis with fogged eyes, "Timothee wanted to throw an afterparty, so here we are."

"You have been celebrating?"

"I've taken a few shots or so." She smiles, "Can we get out of here?"

Lewis nods, "Yeah, of course."

His hand travels down and takes her own, leading her from the full house. "Where do you want to go, love?"

"Anywhere is fine; just want to be far away from people." She sighs.

Lewis peers down at her, watching as she scours the long driveway.

He motions her to his car and she slips from his hold already pacing towards it. She hops into the passenger side when she hears the car unlock and he plops down into the drivers seat.

"Why are you here in France? You didn't tell me you'd be here." Clem inquires as Lewis places his phone into her lap so that she can play music. He always preferred her music taste when they rode in the car late at night.

"I wanted to see the movie and support my friend." He smirked.

"You have to be in Monaco tomorrow!" she gasps. " You can't do that, Lew. You need rest. When did you even get here?"

"I touched down today after qualifying."

"No." Clem disapproves, "I could’ve just gotten you tickets to the premier. You must be so tired." 

Lewis shakes his head, "M'fine. Besides, I wanted to be one of the first people to see it." Which was a lie because he was totally exhausted. 

"Early flight tomorrow, then?" Clem asks.

Lewis only nods, already knowing her eyes are set on him. Frank Ocean begins to play through his speakers, and he hums along to the song playing. It brings upon his next thought.

"I say you posting in the studio?" He eyes, "Let me find out Clemy girl about to be in the booth spitting."

She laughs shaking her head, "not even, I was just there with Tyler. Did record a few vocals for him though."

"Maybe one day you should, I don't know, release something of your own."

Clem scoffs, "I know you think I can do everything. We're not all great at everything."

"It's true, do you think you can do it all, besides I've heard you singing in the shower; sounds nice."

"So you wait outside of the bathroom listening to me, creep."

He smacks his teeth, removing one hand from the wheel to blindly mush her.

"I'm serious, though. I think you have a beautiful voice."

"Thank you. Maybe one day we'll both stop playing in the studio and do something together." She chortles, "So I guess what I'm saying is, I'll do it if you do."

Lewis smirked, nodding his head. "Deal."

Lewis takes her back to his hotel for the night. He smiles as he watches her from the living room. She is on the balcony, arms spread along the banister. 

He approaches her. Like she can sense his presence, she speaks up, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

He doesn't bother looking out to the view. He keeps his eyes on her. "Yeah, very beautiful."

Sometime in the night, the two of them ended up entangled in his bed, both on their sides, as Lewis thrust into her from behind. One of his arms is outstretched and serving as a pillow for her neck, and the other is wrapped around her waist, holding onto her hand as he moves deeper and deeper into her warmth. 

He knows that when she squeezes around him for that final time, he's as good as done for, sheathing himself as far as he can get; his mouth drops open as he releases himself in heavy spurts. Clem exhales as he finishes, her grip on his hand loosening slightly. 

Lewis doesn't bother to remove himself from her core; the arm nestled between the crook of her neck and shoulder bends until his hand is cupping her jaw and forcing her head back towards him, where he is leaning over her shoulder. He smashes his lips against hers in a searing peck, one after the other, until he holds his mouth against hers. She opens her mouth, and their tongues glide against each other in perfect harmony. 

Finally, they pull apart to breathe, and Lewis pulls out with a hiss. They both fall onto their backs, his taken arm still resting beneath her head and his free arm holding their conjoined hands against his chest.

"It gets better and better every time." She admits, and Lewis lets out his signature boyish laugh, turning to face Clem. She is taking the time to catch her breath, a happy, satisfied grin covering her face as she stares up at nothing.

It's like a scene from a movie. The curtains flowed gently against the wind, and the night sky of Cannes was illuminated by stars blazing through his open balcony doors. Clem's exquisite side profile is the main focus.

He reaches over, pulls his phone from the nightstand, and slyly takes a picture before dropping his phone beside him and reconnecting their hands. 

"I should go," Clem announces with a sigh. "You have an early morning ahead of you."

"You don't have to go." Lewis tested, "It's late."

"It's always late when we're together, Lewis." Clem reminds.

"I- Just stay the night. It doesn't have to be weird. We know what we're doing."

He feels her head turn against his head and knows that she's looking at him with those same endearing eyes. "Okay," she whispers into the air.

"Besides, we haven't talked." Lewis murmurs, and Clem smiles. "Can't break the ritual. You remember when I asked you where you would be if you weren't you, and you said Montana?"

Clem hums in agreement. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Think we should go one day, you and me. See those animals; climb that mountain."

Clem wills back the tears burning behind her eyes. That conversation occurred two months into their arrangement, and two and a half years later, here he was, bringing up small details to a dream she'd told him about briefly. 

"What?" Lewis murmurs, watching her grin.

"Nothing, just surprised you remembered that, is all."

"I remember everything you say to me, Clementine."

"I'd love to go to Montana with you," she whispers after a while. "It's the prettiest in spring." 

"Well, we'll go next spring then." Lewis declares.

Clem smiles against against his arm, placing a peck there. "Deal, if you're not sick of me by then, we'll climb that mountain in Montana."

Lewis turns back towards the celing hoping she can't tell that her simple actions had his face burning and had his blood rushing. 

"You know in eternal sunshine of the spotless mind when they're laying on the ice?"

"Yeah, Clem." Lewis chuckles. "We've watched it a million times."

"That's what it feels like laying here right now with you."

"Thank you." Lewis grins.

"Her hair was blue." Clem points out. "Her hair changed colors to represent their relationship. Why do you think it was blue?"

"They were starting over. Maybe she was still down about erasing him."

"Huh," Clem sighs, "that's a good take." 

"Shower?"

"With you?" She wonders.

"If you're okay with that."

 "I just let you fuck me into oblivion. Why not let you clean me up."

Much cleaning hadn't gone down in the shower. 

clementine

liked by lewishamilton, tchalamet, and 8,898,465 others

clementine the best week, the most perfect week.  

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lewishamilton Amazing movie 🙌🏽 such a deep message.

tchalamet And she's done it again people.

badgalriri Such a beautiful film, queen. ❤️

pharell, You're a literal artistic genius; I look forward to working with you in the future.

user Clemmy + Timmy. The duo we didn't know we needed.

-

As Lewis saunters around the hotel room quietly the next morning, he keeps a cautious eye on the girl in his bed. He trips over his discarded shoe as he focuses on not waking her up. He mentally facepalms himself as she begins to stir.

Clem sits up, dazed and groggy; she clutches the sheets to her chest as she peers at Lewis, who looks like a deer caught in headlights. 

"Good morning," he winces, "Sorry, I was packing my suitcase back up, didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine," she rasps, reaching over to grab her phone and checking the time. When she sees that it's seven in the morning, she internally groans but slides her legs off the side of the bed to get ready to pack herself up.

"Woah, hey-" Lewis is by her side in an instant. "Where you going, love?"

Clem pauses, still half asleep she examines him through puffy eyes. "Your flight is at 8:30, right? You're about to head out."

Lewis nods but lifts her legs back onto the bed. "Yeah, but checkout is not until twelve." 

When he realizes that she is still glancing at him in confusion, he sits on the bed beside her. "You can stay here, Clem; get some rest before you get on the road. I'll leave the room key with you. Just let them know you're checking out for the king suite."

He laughs as she furrows her brows. "Don't make it weird." he reiterates from last night. 

She lets her head fall back against the pillows, more than happy to return to her slumber.

"How long are you going to be in Monaco?"

"About a week." 

Clem tried not to think too deeply about his big palm spread over her thigh, his thumb caressing it so tenderly.

"Oh." She mutters, "and then Canada?"

Lewis chuckles, his hand coming up to hold her jaw tenderly, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Look at you," he chuckles, "got my schedule memorized, huh?"

Clem feels the familiar burning in her face as she suppresses her shy smile. "Oh, please." she scoffs. "We've been at this for two years. Of course, I remember the times you begged me to hop on your plane and fly to you so that you could get your rocks off."

Lewis smirks, "Look at that, caught a flight to you this time." And he's bending down and smearing his mouth against hers. He dominates the kiss, his large hand on her jaw keeping her in place for him to use her mouth as he pleases. "Mhmm." he groans pulling away. 

"Wanna stay with you here all day, Clem. But I've got a flight to catch." 

He is standing and bending over to press one last unexpected peck to her mouth and then her temple before he is at the end of the bed and latching onto his suitcase. 

"The keys on the table, okay? Go back to sleep, and order yourself some food for me when you wake up. And text me, okay?"

Clem sits up, still mind-boggled from the kiss, and nods her head. 

Lewis smiles, sending her a wave and easing out of the door.

Clementine nearly screams as the door clicks shut, and she hears his footsteps getting farther away.

Casually kissing wasn't a thing between them. Lewis was sweet, yes, but not once has he sat and caressed her and spoken so softly to her. She had never spent the night with him or fell asleep in his arms. And here he was, flipping her entire world upside down and telling her not to make it weird.

It's what she repeats to herself over and over throughout the day as the tender moments with Lewis replay in her head. 

He was just being a friend, of course he would show up to support her, right? Of course he wouldn't want her to be on the road late at night or extra early in the morning? And they've kissed before, only during sex but maybe he was wound up in the moment, they were friends with added benefits, did those benefits now include impromptu kisses?

She groans as she checks out from his room and hobbles into the waiting SUV where her assistant waits with her packed bags. "You had a time last night." SK teases as he takes in his boss' disheveled appearance. 

"Shut up." Clem grunts, buckling herself in. 

SK raises his hands in surrender and then gets back to typing away on his phone. Clem lets her forehead drop against the window as she drives through the beautiful French city. 

"Hey, SK?" When he lets out a noise to signal he's listening, she asks him for a favor. "If I asked you to find something for me and get it sent to Monaco, do you think you could get it there before the end of the week?"

SK smacks his teeth, "Girl, please, do you know who you're talking to? I could have it there tomorrow."

"You're the best, SK." she smiles.

"Don't I know it. What is it you need me to get my hands on."

-

Sure enough, the next morning, Lewis is interrupted by a knock on his door as he clips on his jewelry. 

He saunters over to the door his pants hung low and shirtless, swinging open the door to reveal the butler that the hotel provided. When his eyes travel south he see's the luxurious gift box in his hands.

"For you, Sir Hamilton. Delivered early today, pre-approved by your assistant."

Lewis thanks the man, motioning for him to hold still for a second as he rushes to retrieve some hefty bills from his wallet. 

He pulls the box from his outstretched hand and replaces it with the bills.

When Lewis closes the door and saunters over to the couch, he plops down and sets the box on the coffee table.

He pulls the stock card from underneath the black ribbon and smiles as he reads over it.

thank you for showing up for me, and congrats on yet another win.

- 🍊

He smiles and taps the card against the box a few times before deciding to open it. He lets out a surprised squawk as he lifts the lid and sees a packaged vintage Big Homer super buggy.

Lewis covers his mouth with his hands stuck between letting out a scream that would resemble a child on christmas day or a cry.

Clementine Russell, he thinks, the woman you are.

He pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the gift, and sends it to her.

-

#lewis hamilton x black fem oc #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #poc reader #f1 #black reader #black reader friendly #black female oc

[6ix9inewiturmom]

The Scare- Chris Sturniolo

Summary: you end up having one of the biggest pregnancy scares of your life while chris is in boston

Warnings: Cursing, Crying, use of Y/N, talks of sex, taking a pregnancy test

A/n: may be tmi but lowkey relate to this so this was easy to write LMFAOO, ENJOY

PSA: DO NOT USE MY WORK FOR “inspiration” OR ANYTHING ELSE!!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chris has been in Boston for the last 2 weeks, and he's finally coming home. I decided to shower and shave before he came home because that man is the most sexually active 20-year-old I've ever met, the Facetime sex at 3 am for him isn't nearly enough to satisfy both of our needs.

After my hour-long shower, I'm digging through my shared bathroom with Chris in an attempt to find my body lotion to prevent my dry ass skin in this heat when I find my box of tampons, which got me thinking I haven't had a period in a while and Chris and I aren't the safest people when it comes to sex because neither of us can even remember to put a condom on, it always fucks up my mood.

“Shit,” I say to my self.

Chris and I are only 20 and with his career there's no fucking way in HELL we can have a kid or even raise a kid, I am nowhere near ready to raise an actual child.

I open my Flo app and see the little circle that's normally red is grey ‘1 week late’

“Shit shit shit,” I say out loud again, panicking.

I can't keep it from him, he's gonna see the pregnancy test in the trash. Would he be mad if I kept it from him? Should I just tell him? Should I go to Tara?

After about 30 minutes of standing in the bathroom looking at the message in my phone, panicking about what to do, I just decided I was gonna tell Chris, he loves me, and we've talked about having kids way later in life anyway, he couldn't be mad.

I finally built up the courage and got dressed in a pair of tight ripped jeans and a baby tee, with some Converse, and sat on the couch waiting for Chris to come home going through Tiktok and whatever else was on my phone.

“BABY IM HOME” Chris yells from the stairs

I squeal in excitement as I spot Chris and run towards him. Jumping into his arms, he effortlessly lifts me, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist.

“Umm Y/N there are other people here too you know? Also, Chris get out of the fucking way so we can fucking put our shit down” Nick says in annoyance.

“Well hello to you too Nick,” I say jumping out of Chris’ arms moving out of the doorway, and letting Matt and Nick come inside the house.

“Sorry babes, we've all been up since about 6 am Boston time trying to catch our flight we almost missed because your fucking boyfriend wouldn't get the hell out of bed” Nick replies sending me a soft smile and giving me a soft hug.

“To be fair none of us went to bed at a decent time, mom was making sure we had everything packed so we didn't leave anything behind” matt defends.

“Thank you, Matt, now Y/N do you wanna take a nap? I know we were gonna go out to dinner but I'm very fucking jet lagged and kinda just want to order dinner and watch movies with you” Chris wraps his arms around my waist nuzzling his head between my neck as my hands rest on his shoulders.

“Thats fine with me i don't mind” i pull away from his embrace and smile at him.

Chris grabs his luggage and my hand and guides me to our shared bedroom. As we enter the room he seats his luggage down and plops on the bed letting out a groan of frustration.

“I have missed this damn bed, don't ask me how I slept in that bed at my mom's house for god knows how long because this one is so much more comfortable,” Chris says adjusting the way he's laying to rest his head down on the pillows. “Now after 2 weeks of no sex and just my right hand, I'm gonna need to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you” he smirks at me patting his lap and signaling me to sit on it.

“Yeah so about that” give him an awkward smile “So I didn't know how to approach this to you, 'cause you know we're not the most responsible sexually active humans” I start babbling getting nervous of his reaction based on the puzzled look on his face.

“Y/N what the hell are you getting at? cause if you don’t wanna have sex with me right now that’s fine just say that, but considering our last facetime call the constant ‘oh chris i need your cock’ was really misleading to me” he says with a puzzled faced.

“Chris i’m late” i breathe out.

“late for what? did we have reservations for dinner? did you have something for work?” he says with frustration in his voice.

“No Chris my period, I'm late, my period is LATE, I'm 1 week late today,” I say aggressively from his lack of acknowledgement.

“wait we haven’t had sex in 2 weeks? i’m confused” he sits up moving to the edge of the bed.

“last time we had sex i was ovulating, remember when i told you like a while ago that if im ovulating means im FERTILE?” i say in frustration.

“Fuck” he runs his fingers through his hair “Did you take a test? Do you know for sure that you are pregnant?” he questions

“No, and no, I didn't wanna take a test without you, and I for SURE didn't wanna hide it from you,” I say softly sitting next to him on the bed.

“So why the hell are you freaking out now? You don't know for sure that you are” he asks placing his head in his hands.

“Because you and I are nowhere near ready for a fucking kid Chris, your career, and my inability to even fucking care for myself some days, yeah there's no fucking way I can care for a child who can't even speak on its emotions, Chris” I stand up out of frustration and start pacing.

I can tell Chris obviously got upset with my statement about our ability to care for a child but i was stressed and honestly wasn't thinking.

"I want you to know that I care about you deeply, Y/N. If you are indeed pregnant, please know that I will do everything in my power to support you and our child. Even if it means giving up my career, I will do it willingly. Let's go get a pregnancy test and we can talk about everything else later, okay? I am here for you, and I will always be." he says, his voice filled with empathy and understanding as he gently cups my cheeks in his hands, rubbing them softly up and down and warm smile spreads across his face.

As our eyes meet, a warm smile spreads across his face and I can't help but return it. He takes my hand in his and gently guides me towards the living room, his grip firm yet gentle. The coolness of his skin against mine sends shivers down my spine.

“Girl, were you guys arguing? Normally after we come home from Boston it's all ‘Oh Chris more, more’ typically a traumatic event” Nick says mocking me with a smile plastered across his face.

“Y/N and I are running to CVS so well be back in a little,” Chris says walking him and me down the stairs and to my car.

The drive to CVS was filled with a bunch of conversations and laughter, talking about if I was pregnant how we would raise our child, and Chris talking about the dad jokes he's gonna have, and considering he's a triplet he carries the genetic that I'm probably gonna twins or triplets.

“How many of these things do we need? What brand is best? why are there so many options?” Chris says holding 3 boxes of pregnancy tests and struggling to figure out which one to pick “fuck it why don't we buy all of them and use one pack tonight then we'll have the extra on hand in case our irresponsibility gets the best of us” he continues.

Chris and I walked up to the front counter and dropped the boxes of tests. The worker behind the counter took a look at the tests and then looked back at us, giving us a fake smile. After ringing up the purchase, we made our way to my car.

“So do you think you are pregnant?” Chris says breaking the silence.

“I mean normally my cycles are normal and a week late is not normal at all but it could be my hormones changing or something, but I do wanna make sure,” I say glancing at Chris nervously biting his nails.

“You were right about how irresponsible we are with our sex lives but when we first started fucking we knew the risk of everything and I mean our kids would be pretty cute,” he says placing his hand on my leg and rubbing a small circle with his thumb.

Chris and I pulled up into the driveway. As we got out of the car, he held my hand tightly and carried the CVS bag in the other hand as we made our way into the house and up the staircase.

“did you get any snacks?” Nick says eating a bowl of popcorn on the couch with Matt watching the most random movie on Netflix.

“Uhm no I just got a couple of personal things” I say nervously holding up the bag and sending a warm smile to Nick.

Chris and I pretty much B lined to the bathroom, anxiously “So which one do we use?” Chris says looking down at the boxes.

“Just give me the one that says Clearblue” i say softly laughing as Chris opens the box for me and inspects it before handing me the little stick.

“Do you want me to hold the stick while you piss? I'm sorry I have no idea how these things work” he says laughing allowing his back to slide down the wall and sit with his back against the shower door.

“Chris it's fine i know how to use these, believe me my friends in highschool weren't the most responsible either” I say laughing beginning to pee on the little white and blue stick.

“So how long do we wait?” Chris says helping me take a seat on the floor next to him.

“5 minutes” I breathe out setting a 5-minute timer on my phone and leaning my head against the shower door.

As we sat in the bathroom, waiting for the pregnancy test to show its result, the silence felt palpable. It wasn't an awkward silence, but rather a deafening one that seemed to fill the entire room. With just the two of us present, we anxiously waited for the five minutes to pass.

“Would it be a bad thing if I wanted it to be positive?” Chris chuckles.

“I wouldn't necessarily say a bad thing, there's a part of me that kind of wants it to be positive too” i smile back at Chris.

The alarm on my phone quickly broke the once-loving moment sending us into a panic. Chris and I stand up walking to the counter.

“Wait should we film it in case you are then we could always have it if you could be pregnant?” Chris’ gaze softens as he looks at me.

“Chris not the time” I softly laugh out.

“Right,” he nods smiling back at me. “WAIT” he grabs my hand “Whatever happens, I love you,” he says in a serious tone.

With a warm smile, I gaze lovingly at him and reciprocate his affectionate words, "I love you too Christopher." However, my attention is quickly drawn towards the counter where the pregnancy test lays face down, taunting my nerves. With trembling hands, I muster up the courage to pick it up and slowly turn it around to face me, my heart pounding in anticipation of the result.

‘Not Pregnant’

“YES, MORE CREAMPIES” Chris shrieks wrapping his arms around my waist and picking me up, and spinning me around as I giggle out of excitement.

He carefully seats me down back flat on my feet. Our moment was quickly interrupted by both Nick and Matt barging through the door.

“ARE YOU GUYS- wait is that a pregnancy test? Y/N ARE YOU PREGNANT?” Nick yelled as Matt's eyes widened at the little blue stick in my hands.

“Please for the love of god, I don't want a little Chris running around, or two, or even three” Matt places his hand on his forehead.

“No she is not” Chris chuckles at the boys’ comment.

“THANK YOU,” matt and nick say in unison.

“Wrap it before you tap it next time Chris,” Nick says walking away and back to the living room.

“Now I'll say it again, after 2 weeks of Facetime sex I would like to absolutely fuck your brains out” Chris says smirking down at me.

“Please do” I smile as he picks me up gripping the backs of my thighs as my legs wrap around his waist leading me to the bedroom.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N pt 2: I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THISSSSSS AND TYSM TO @cosmicmistake42069 FOR THIS INSPIRATION!!

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo

[lordelmelloi2]

we need help again...

I hate hate hate hate to make this post but we could really use some help. Mostly because I am uninsured until my job opens enrollment for its health insurance in June and on the eve of us signing the apartment lease tomorrow, I have contracted strep throat from my coworkers. Hooray!

I'm gonna try and get an appointment at the community health center doctor's tomorrow because I straight up don't have the money or time to go to the CVS minuteclinic across the street. They said it was $139 for a strep appointment without insurance, I said hell no... If I wait another day I can try and get a sliding scale $40 appt at the doctors. Right now is just stressful because we need money and because they didn't give us our security deposit back I'm not going to have enough money for my bills the beginning of the month. Plus there are literally THREE prescriptions I have asides from however much a Z pack will likely cost and one of them is an ointment from a compound pharmacy that I don't have money to pay for~!!!! 😭😭😭

Asides from that I am afraid that we miscalculated how much we have for rent for May so I'm trying to see about covering those costs so we aren't paying 3 days late into the month of May for our May rent first month. I really don't want to have a bad first impression with these people. They've been very kind to us so far with renting this new place but I don't want to push the limits.

I've already asked my dad for help but he wasn't able to spare enough for us to be totally covered + he needs me to pay him back by August. During the month of April I also applied to multiple credit unions for personal loans and got rejected...

So my total expenses are:

- Medication/Doctor's visit (including pre-existing prescriptions that I haven't had the money to pick up) ($160)

- Phone bill ($75 for this first month, should be going down next month as verizon charges my account with different coding)

- costs for rent/move (like hopefully $200 idk. I think we can swing the last hundred)

In addition: Because of my history of struggling with commissions due to my psychiatric disability, I don't really want to do this but if you donate a sum above $100 you can ask me to digitally paint something for you. Please no complicated requests or anything since I've been struggling with art for years now from depression/anxiety etc. but I would feel indebted to you if I didn't do anything. If this is something you'd like please DM me/send me an ask off anon.

* As for why we have been so financially fucked this month. Our current apartment complex (yes the one with the leaks, roaches, harmful construction noises etc.) has kept our security deposit which has us out $300 that we could've used towards the new place. They have fucked us over one last time.

My paypal as always is at: paypal.me/roseod

And please share if you can. Every reblog/donation of even a small amount is appreciated. Thank you all so much for supporting me.

#mutual aid

[revengeghoulette]

Matcha Latte w/Rose

Part 2: The Date

They go on their date!!

A/N: Bit of a time skip. It's not like the best thing I've written, but it'll do :) It gets a little steamy but not enough to be considered Spicy. Mostly edited.

WC: 3k

Sorry in advanced, you'll see. -Rev.

Playlist: The Rosy Crown

tagging: @obsidianghoul (ily, sorry I banned you), @sovaghoul @gottagho-st @clouds-bitch @crystalameoba @cheerycherrycandy-resurrected @foxybouquet @ghostlylivres @hypnoneghoul

It’s been almost 3 weeks since Swiss asked Mountain out on a date, and preparations for the midterm rush at The Rosy Crown are in full swing. Mist, Sunny and Swiss have been organizing the schedule to ensure that last year's snafu doesn’t occur again. They accidentally left The Rosy Crown with no staff for about 3 hours in the middle of the night, and they also ran out of flour and butter. They promised that moving forward reparations would begin several weeks before exam weeks to avoid any issues the week of.  

Mountain has been busy with office hours, lectures, and a garden club he offered to be an advising faculty member for. He tries his hardest to make sure to be at the cafe before Swiss’ shift ends so they can walk home together, but there’s been a handful of nights where he doesn’t make it. He regrets assigning so much homework. He makes a mental note to adjust the workload for next semester, especially since he’ll be teaching two additional courses. 

On the nights Mountain can’t make it to the cafe, he shoots Swiss a message to let him know so he doesn’t worry. If it's truly a rough day, he forgets all together. 

Swiss will do anything to spend time with his favorite person. He happily walks to campus with some snacks and a warm drink, to find him buried in stacks of papers gripping a red pen. He takes a seat on one of the comfy chairs Mountain has in his office, and reads the random magazines he has lying around.  

“Is gardening like your favorite thing to do, or what? You’ve got so many magazines here about greenhouses and what not, and you’ve got a little gardening gang now,” Swiss questions, laughing at the end, referring to the gardening club.

“It's… yeah. You know how we, ghouls, have an element attached to us? I’m an earth ghoul, hence the name Mountain. I have a special connection with the earth, so, yeah, gardening, and all things nature,” Mountain informs him.

“Oh, I guess I never really thought about it. I know we have ties to elements, but my parents weren’t very into that, I guess? They tried to assimilate more to the human culture, so we didn’t lean into it.”

After a moment, Swiss began getting a little antsy, distracting Mountain, “Honey, what is it? You're getting fidgety.”

Swiss blushes at hearing the earth ghoul call him honey. “Would you… help me connect with my elements? According to my parents, I have a mix of them. It's where my name came from, actually.”

Mountain sets down his pen and removes his glasses. “Wait. Swiss… Like, Swissarmy knife? Because you’re a multi ghoul.”

Swiss nods slowly. 

Mountain lets out a hearty chuckle, “That’s very cute, but absolutely, it would be my pleasure. I’m done here though. Why don’t we pick up some food and go home?”

Standing up from his chair, Swiss grabs Mountain’s coat and helps him put it on before walking out the door hand in hand. 

Swiss and Mountain have only been going out for a few short weeks, but their connection is so much more than typical crush. They have routines, they call each other during downtime just to say hello, Mountain continues to stop by The Rosy Crown every morning, and Swiss helps Mountain with grading or understanding typical young adult behavior. It seems like neither of them can spend the night alone anymore. There’s something tugging them together. 

They haven’t had their first official date, but all the hang outs are everything and more. 

‐

With midterms week upon them, Swiss, Mist and Sunny have been living at The Rosy Crown filling in for their student staff. Mountain has been at the shop every single day volunteering to help bus tables, or go around and restock supplies and books. 

Mist has gotten on his case multiple times about it before, claiming that it's not his job, that he’s probably breaking some sort of labor law by helping them. Mountain assures her it falls under volunteer work and she doesn't need to worry. Swiss admires that Mountain puts up with Mist’s fighting spirit and constantly thanks him for helping, but reassures him he doesn’t have to.

“I do it because I want to. No one’s forcing me to be here.” Mountain reassures him back. With a quick kiss on the forehead, they go back to their duties. 

Ever the creep, Sunny watches them interact. She’s never seen Swiss be so enthralled by another being before. He’s putty in Mountain’s hands. The forehead kiss sent her over the edge. 

He walks past her, and she takes this opportunity to corner him, “Dude. What the fuck. Where did you find him? He’s amazing! And he’s been so much help! Please tell me you’re gonna dick him down soon! Omg, does he have a sister?”

Swiss grabs Sunny by the arms and shakes her playfully. “Sunny, breathe. Calm down! He’s pretty amazing, huh?” 

“Who knew the playboy would settle down,” she teased, earning a glare from Swiss. “I'd snatch him from you, but I like the ladies. They're not as stinky.” Sunny makes a disgusted face before cackling and running away from Swiss’ reach He grins, rolling his eyes at her antics. Who knew the calm quiet child would grow up to be anything but calm and quiet. 

-

After a rough week of long nights, The Rosy Crown closes the weekend after midterms. Students are mostly gone on spring break, and the staff is exhausted. Swiss gives everyone a long weekend to recover and start fresh on the following Wednesday. 

Mountain wakes up with Swiss’ arms around him. He takes a moment to admire the features on Swiss’ face, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, and the horns protruding from his head. He was perfection incarnate. The gold flakes in his horns match the gold flakes in his eyes, his muscles defined by all the manual work he puts into baking, his tail wrapped around his own leg as if cuddling with him, there is no other ghoul that could match his beauty.  

He gets up quietly, placing the blanket over Swiss body, and goes to the living room. He knows Swiss isn’t waking up anytime soon, especially after the week they just had. Mountain brews a fresh pot of coffee and takes a seat on the couch, wrapping a blanket over himself. The air is getting crisper with the approaching winter, he can feel it in his bones, and see it in his hair. He's luckily able to glamour that. He picks up a random book Swiss has lying about, and begins to read it while he waits for sleeping beauty to wake up.

In the other room, Swiss wakes up alone. He feels around for Mountain, but he doesn’t find him. Groggy, he gets up and sees he's reading the book Mist said was good, but truth is… It’s trash. The writing is terrible, but the smut is hot. 

He wanted to stare at Mountain forever, but he was getting chilly and he looked so warm. Swiss quietly makes his way over before crawling on top of Mount, startling him. 

“Good morning sweetheart,” Mountain sets the book down, rubbing his hands up and down Swiss’ back while his face was smushed against him lower belly. He mumbled something in response, but Mountain couldn’t make it out. 

They adjusted themselves so that Swiss was underneath the blanket, cuddling Mountain on the couch. Sleeping beauty dozed off, and Mountain picked up the book again. After a little while, Swiss started to wake up again. Mount felt movement under him, so he set the book down and started rubbing the back of his finger up and down Swiss cheek gently. 

“You’re warm,” Swiss gets out in a groggy voice, snuggling further into Mountain. 

“Mm I know honey. I’m also hungry, and need more coffee. This book is lulling me back to sleep,” Swiss hums in agreement, “I’m gonna make us some breakfast, sweetheart.”

After they get up, Swiss warms up the coffee and starts to make breakfast for the both of them. Mountain complains because he was supposed to make breakfast, not the other way around, especially since he had a long week at the shop, but Swiss wasn’t having it. They argue back and forth for a little bit.

“I’m taking you on that date today. I’m picking you at 6,” Swiss announces as he places pancakes on a plate for Mountain.  

“Oh, thank you,” Mountain takes the plate. “Are you gonna tell me what we’re doing?”

“Nope, it’s a surprise. A little something I’ve been cooking up for a while,” Swiss says before taking a seat and cutting up his pancakes. “Wear something comfortable, and something you wouldn’t mind getting a little… dirty.”

“Are you going to explain?” the earth ghoul questions. 

“Nope,” Swiss says with a wink.

-

Swiss knocks on Mountain's door right at 6pm, not a minute early, not a minute late, exactly at 6. 

Mountain opens the door wearing a dark green Henley and black jeans. “Is this okay?” Mountain asks. 

Swiss is stunned, He just stared at Mountain for a little bit before stuttering out, “Oh, definitely. You look fantastic.” 

Swiss hands Mountain some flowers he picked up earlier that day. Placing them inside, Mountain locks up and walks down the steps, taking Swiss hand.  

“Where are we going?” The tall ghoul inquires. 

“Somewhere. Don’t worry about it sweetheart.”

After walking a few minutes down the road, they reach their destination: The Rosy Crown Cafe & Bookshop. Swiss lets go of Mountain’s hand and opens the door.

 “Swiss, what are we doing here?”

“We are on a date, my good sir. Come on.”

Swiss opens the doors and walks Mountain inside. It takes a moment for Mountain to take everything in. The blinds are all down, and there’s total privacy. Looking around, he sees strings of light are hung up, there’s a table with candles lit in the center and on either side there's a table placement and two dishes served. Soft music is playing in the background, creating a romantic, intimate space for them. 

“Swiss… how?”

“The ladies might have helped.” He smiles almost sheepishly up at the taller ghoul. “I hope you’re hungry.”

Swiss guides Mountain to the table, pulls out the chair for him before taking a seat himself. On the plate there is a serving of roasted potatoes, a kale asian salad, and a plate of creamy mushroom risotto with a fresh baked dinner roll on the side.

They dive into the meal prepared by Mist and Sunny. The earth ghoul talked about his uni work, biodegradable research projects amongst other things. Swiss cracked some jokes and delved more about his parents and his childhood. He grew up surrounded by humans and had very few interactions with ghouls. He met Sunny and Mist in elementary school and have been inseparable since then. They’re family, a pack, if you will. Mountain sips on his wine while watching Swiss enthusiastically tell stories from his childhood. 

As they finish their food, Swiss gathers their plates and sets them to the side, mentally noting to take care of them later. 

“I have something special planned for dessert, follow me,” Swiss stands up, and offers a hand to Mountain. He takes him to the kitchen, and ties an apron around him. 

“I want to ask what we're doing, but you’re not gonna tell me.” 

“You know me so well, but fine, I’ll tell you. We’re making cinnamon rolls.”

Swiss had pre-measured out the flour, cinnamon, butter, and the rest of the ingredients and placed them on the counter. 

“Oh, by 'we're making them' you mean I'm making them?!”

“Yes, but don’t worry, I’ll help.”

Swiss dumps the flour on the counter, forming a well in the center. “First, you’re going to incorporate a few things into the flour. Here,” Swiss hands Mountain a few things and he dumps them into the well. “Now mix them up using the fork, then make the well again.” 

Mountain does as he’s told. Swiss works on mixing the wet ingredients for him. “I’m going to slowly mix this in. First use the fork,” Swiss pours a small amount of the wet ingredients, making sure everything is incorporated before adding more. “Great, now use your fingers. Make your hand into a claw and mix it in. As it gets stickier, start to knead.  It’s going to get pretty sticky, but keep kneading. I still need to add in some more flour.”

Swiss stands back, watching Mountain mix the ingredients so gently, “You’re going to have to be a little rougher baby,” he states after dumping in a few more cups of flour.

Mountain starts to get tired from kneading since he’s been going at it for a few minutes. 

“Swiss, this is hard. I’m getting tired,” he complains. 

 That's not the only thing that's hard, Swiss mumbles under his breath. 

Swiss stands behind him, slightly pushing his hips against Mountain’s back, and helps him knead. Mountain turns his head back, they stare into each other's eyes for a second, and lean in, lips meeting at a feverish pace. 

“Let me take over Mount.” Swiss mumbles into the kiss. He quickly finished kneading the dough while Mountain stands behind him, kissing his neck, hands roaming his body, leaving a trail of flour and dried dough on his clothes, especially his ass.

Swiss sets the bowl with the dough aside, Mountain takes this as an opportunity to grab him and press him against the counter. He leans into Swiss, his ass pressing against the counter, he towers over Swiss for a moment before kissing him with all his might.

Swiss’ arms immediately go to the back of the Mountain’s head, pressing him closer to his mouth, fingers playing with his hair. Swiss pulls on his hair to see what kind of reaction he would get, and he got the best reaction possible. A moan escaped Mountain’s lips as his head was pulled back, foreheads joining after Mountain lets out a whine from Swiss still pulling his hair back. Mountain wanted nothing more to get Swiss naked right then and there.

“Mount…” Swiss whispers, fearing that if he spoke any louder, the moment would be ruined. 

“I'm gonna kiss you again.” Mountain announces in the same quiet tone. 

Mountain goes for Swiss neck, inhaling his scent before lightly kissing him in that little patch near his ear. He wants to bite, he knows and recognizes what this attraction is but Swiss doesn’t. He can't jump the gun and do something that could probably destroy their souls. 

Without realizing, he shakes his head, shaking the thoughts away, Swiss is too high on the love right now to catch Mountain's head shake. Instead, he moans when Mountain begins to kiss down the front of his neck to his collarbones. Tracing the outline of those delicate, sensitive bones. Swiss throws his head back, opening himself more for Mountain. His hands still tangled in his hair, tugging lightly every now and then. He leaves a few hickeys on Swiss collarbones before returning to his lips. Swiss feels Mountain's fangs when he slides his tongue into his mouth, both of them fighting for dominance. Mountain’s hands are gripping Swiss hips so tightly there's bound to be bruising tomorrow.

They hear a distant beeping that’s becoming louder and louder, then they realize it was the timer letting them know the dough was done proofing. Swiss pushes Mountain away softly. 

“Give me a second, and then we can continue, we should get these into the oven,” Swiss pants. 

Mountain, panting equally as hard, nods, but he doesn’t let go of him. He holds Swiss by the waist, continuing to kiss his neck while he rolls out the dough and spreads the cinnamon sugar butter on the dough before rolling and cutting them.

Placing the rolls into the oven, Swiss turns and continues to make out with Mountain. Without clearing out the counter, Mountain hoists Swiss up to the counter. The slightly shorter ghoul now towering over him. His hands start to roam underneath Swiss’ shirt, claws scratching lightly into his skin, enough to leave a faint raised line.

“Mount… more,” is all Swiss is able to get out. Mountain unbuttons part of Swiss shirt to give him access to his torso where he licks his V-line, tempted to go below his belt, but he stops himself. Maybe the coffee shop is not the place to suck his soul out through his dick. 

The timer goes off again letting them know the cinnamon rolls were done baking.

Mountain looks up at Swiss’ face, pleading with his eyes to not get off the counter. Swiss laughs and hops off, heading straight to the oven. 

“Would you mind grabbing the frosting from the fridge?”

Mountain nods and hands it to Swiss, who smears it on the warm cinnamon rolls, melting the frosting. 

Mountain discreetly adjusts himself and fixes his clothes before sitting on the bar. He can’t help but stare at the reminder of what occurred just moments ago. Hair messy, lips swollen, cheeks stained red, his shirt unbuttoned and untucked, a few scattered small hickies, little red lines peeking through his opened shirt.  

Mountain swallows hard. He tries to contain himself and let Swiss finish setting up dessert. 

“A cinnamon roll for you, but before you eat it, I have a special drink I’d to make you”

Swiss brings out a jar with green powder, and a bamboo whisk. Pouring a little bit of hot water over the green powder he put in a mug and whisked it until slightly frothy. He goes to the steamer with some oat milk in a cup, steams it then pours it into the mug and pumps some flavoring into it. 

Mountain’s eyes follow him from one station to the next, until the drink is presented in front of him. 

“I present a matcha latte with oat milk and a hint of rose. Try it,” Swiss encourages. 

Mountain takes a sip and it's like tasting a garden. The rose flavor bring out the flavor of the matcha.

“Swiss, this is delicious. It's amazing. It’s comforting. It makes me feel all warm and safe. It tastes like… home, in a way.” 

“I call it the Mountain Special. I was hoping you'd like it.”

“I love it so much,” Mountain smiles so big. He lets out a moan as he bites into the warm roll, “so good.”

Swiss chuckles. Before him there’s a big ghoul with frosting dripping from the corners of his mouth. Using his thumb, Swiss cleans off the frosting before sucking it clean. 

“And I love you, Mountain.” 

-

After cleaning up the kitchen, Swiss walks Mountain back to his apartment, hoping to stay the night and finish what they started in the cafe.

“Thank you for the wonderful date, Swiss. I loved every moment of it. I adore you so much. Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure, Mounty.”

“Um, I know you probably want to stay, but I… uh kinda need time to process tonight, if that’s okay,” he explains, twisting his fingers, obviously nervous of some sort of negative reaction.

Swiss is unsure of what to say. “Yeah, no, yeah, that’s okay! I’ll call you tomorrow. Get some rest.” He leans in to give him a kiss, but Mountain turns, his lips landing on his cheek.

“Thanks. Have a goodnight, Swiss, get home safely.” Mountain enters his apartment leaving Swiss confused outside. 

Staring into the darkness of his apartment, he closes his eyes, leans his back against the door. 

“Fuck.” 

He exhales as tears roll down his face. 

Part 3, soon, sorry

#revenge works #Matcha Latte #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost #ghost the band #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #swissalps #mist ghoulette #sunny ghoulette #steamy make out session #angst? #barista swiss #professor mountain #coffee shop au #my fic #idk if that was a good dinner to serve but whatever #i dont go on dates

[calaisreno]

May Prompts 2024

Dear Writers:

It's nearly May! The month of merry little thoughts, divine mistakes, and frivolous whims.

Time to set aside that fantasy trilogy that's been stuck in the mud all winter, the six-act tragedy in blank verse you've been labouring over--and write some random bits and bobs!

Visit your mind attic. Pull open the drawer where you hide your terrible ideas and scenes that are waiting for the right story. (I know you have such an attic and such a drawer because I do as well 🙄) Dig around— not with the idea of spring cleaning, which will only produce an empty drawer and a tidy attic— but because it's a treasure hunt.

Dust off the lawn furniture, put on your sandals, take your laptop outdoors. New environs, new inspirations.

The point is this: Last year* some of us wrote and shared a month of little daily fictions. There were drabbles and 221Bs and flash-fiction and mini-epics. There were prompts, which some of us used as a starting place, and sharing of minifics amongst ourselves, which led to more inspiration. 

Wanna see some more?

I've been hoarding ideas since last year and am now opening that drawer. I plan to write a short something every day in May, and will share my words with whoever wants to be tagged. If you'd like a daily prompt, I will be supplying that. 

No pressure. While some structure creates opportunity and creativity thrives within structure, this exercise is not meant to create anxiety or trigger your inner completionist. (My internal taskmaster is taking the month off.)

No judgement. No prizes for reaching 31, no awards for creativity, no certificates of participation. Just cheering one another on.

No rules. Use the prompt or don't. Write 100 words or 1000. Any fandom, any characters, any headcanon. Or your own original creation. Write every day or whenever an idea strikes. Share or don't. 

No guilt. Fail gleefully, write terribly, get out of the boat and swim.

Correction. One rule: write some words. 

*Credit goes to @notjustamumj for last year's inspiration. Eternal thanks for that idea!

Please reblog! I'm tagging a few people who participated last year or expressed interest, but I’m sure I’m leaving someone out. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for prompts and sharing.  

@raina_at @lisbeth-kk @keirgreeneyes @allsovacant @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jrow @elwinglyre @bertytravelsfar @helloliriels @gregorovitchworld @peanitbear @mydogwatson

#MayPrompts2024

[teecupangel]

Tee I can't remember if I've sent this idea before, but with [insert Desmond as an animal au] of your choice (or multiple of them, or all of them)--consider Desmond stuck as an animal and getting used to that being his new life. Until. He meets one of his ancestors he spent time as (havihg sought them out of course. He could never resist). And then, maybe it's by design, or maybe it's some kind of weird crossed wires from the Bleeding Effect, the echo of a flesh and blood body given a reminder in the code of the universe what shape it's supposed to be--

Whatever it is, it turns out that as long as Desmond is in skin-to-skin contact with his ancestor, he reverts to human form.

which is to say: big convoluted excuse for lots of hugs and hand-holding.

It would be funny if Desmond was some kind of big animal so when his ancestor lets go of him, enemies would be surprised by the sudden appearance of such a beast XD

Since you gave me free rein on this, I’m going for 12th century Levant XD

.

.

Malik did not believe he was close minded.

He accepted Altaïr was in love with a mysterious man who can turn into a beast even before Altaïr had admitted it.

Altaïr didn’t try hard to deny it anyway.

Saying “this is necessary” while they were holding hands or Altaïr’s hand was on his neck or they were in each other’s embrace (and many more positions that Malik didn’t have any time to list down at the moment) was such a weak excuse that Malik didn’t really think he should even be using the term excuse in the first place.

When he sent a letter saying he was going on a ‘trip’ with Desmond after they finished the mission in Cyprus, no one in the Brotherhood was surprised.

They immediately looked for Malik to lead them as if Altaïr had planned it.

No.

This felt more like Desmond’s work. That man seemed to believe Malik could handle more things than Malik was comfortable with handling.

Yet, he persevered for no one was willing to take the mantle from him.

After the first year of his tenure as the temporary mentor, Rauf was already suggesting that he, Altaïr and Desmond should just be the mentors together.

The way he said it though made it clear to Malik that Rauf believed Malik was entangled in Altaïr and Desmond’s relationship.

Or was harboring unsaid feelings for either or both of them.

Malik wanted to vomit there and then.

He would rather lose both of his arms than be part of whatever relationship those two had.

They were the cause of Malik’s headache.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

.

Their trip lasted for four long years.

Malik’s list of complaints had turned into a journal and he was planning to read everything out loud.

But his tenure as the long suffering temporary mentor has finally come to an end for those two idiots had returned.

When he reached the courtyard to greet them, Kadar grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Brother.” Kadar’s eyes were wide and his hands were trembling.

“What is it?” Malik asked, his mind going through the many worrying fates those two idiots could have had while they had been away.

“I’m so sorry, brother.” Kadar looked like a man who had his heart broken.

… on behalf of Malik.

Oh no.

Please.

No.

“Malik!” Desmond shouted and Kadar let go of him, stepping back into the crowd like the coward that he was.

Malik turned to where he heard Desmond’s face and saw Desmond’s grinning face.

With both of his hands holding two different persons.

Altaïr was, of course, one of them.

That was a common sight by now.

The other was a woman though.

“This is Maria Thorpe.” Desmond introduced, “The mother of our first son! He’ll be born three months from now!”

Oh, it was worse.

Many Assassins behind the three currently in front of Malik were looking at him with pitying eyes.

It seemed their imagination had run wild.

And now they had cast Malik into the role of an unfortunate man who just heard the two men (or one of these idiots) he was in love with (He. Was. Not.) had married a woman while he had been waiting for them to return.

Forget reading out loud his complaints.

He was going to beat the both of them with that damn journal.

#whether this is #altdes #or #altdesmar #is up to you #here i am once more #bullying malik (affectionately)

[neurolady]

I've been distracted all day since I saw @neil-gaiman's answer all but confirming that Crowley's "we've been talking for millions of years..." can be taken literally! I have always thought there has got to be more than just that one encounter between them in Heaven, but had always written that particular line off as just Crowley hyperbole... and tbh I'm not entirely convinced he isn't just trolling us because Neil!

But doesn't it add a whole new delicious layer to the Ineffable Love Story if there's the possibility that as angels in Heaven they were already together as Celestial lovers, whatever that would look like. To then have been torn apart by the Great War and Crowley's fall. Or even juicier to have their angelic relationship somehow be involved in Crowley's fall.

Eden then becomes an awkward reunion with the old feelings and instincts still there. Which is why Crowley automatically shuffles under Aziraphale's wing and already knows about the sword. Aziraphale not knowing how to address Crawley because he doesn't know his demon version, I'd always noticed his double-take when Crawley's black wings unfurl especially after s2 ep1.

It then reframes their whole relationship on Earth leading right upto the Final 15.

You can read Aziraphale as almost mourning the relationship that once was. "I know the angel you were", "you were an angel once", "you can come back to heaven and... (me) everything". He's obviously in turmoil because he loves who Crowley is now, loves their life on Earth but has never quite let go of what once was. It adds another dimension as to why he so quickly accepts The Metatron's offer after returning Crowley's angelic status is suggested. I mean imagine for 6000+ years he has he been struggling with falling for a demon but also reconciling that that demon is the same but not the angel he once loved in Heaven. Of course he doesn't want to change Crowley, but in his mind they can have everything now the love they've grown on Earth, their previous time in Heaven and no more taboo or danger from Hell, why would Crowley possibly not want that!

Crowley on the other hand traumatised by his Fall, has been searching for and finding his identity, but has definitively separated himself from his former Angel self. He has either forgotten or actively erased pretty much all of his time in Heaven, except Aziraphale. Rocks up to Eden to find his love there but now it's forbidden for them to be together. Spends the next 6000+ years falling even deeper in-love with who Aziraphale, himself and they together on Earth (us) have become. See's Gabrielle and Beezelbub, has his big moment of clarity (thanks to Nina and Maggie) and finally plucks up the courage to tell Aziraphale exactly how he still feels and that they can be together openly and properly! Then Aziraphale rocks up and wants to rewind the clock all the way back to Heaven! So of course he feels rejected like the last 6000+ years have just been Aziraphale waiting for his angel!

JUICY!

#it probably won't play out this way #but I love all the extra angst that framing it this brings #super long post #got a little carried away #ineffable husbands #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #goo omens theory

[mimisempai]

Our invisible scars

Summary

Aziraphale and Crowley have no visible scars, but the ones you can't see are the ones that hurt the most. Fortunately, each is the other's healing balm.

Notes

50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts - Complete!!!

Last kiss: A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck.

On Ao3

Rating G -  1327 words

When Crowley entered the bookshop, he immediately sensed from the quality of the silence that something was wrong.

He called softly, "Angel?"

"I'm here." 

Aziraphale's voice came from further inside the bookshop, so the demon stepped forward and was astonished to find the angel sitting on the sofa, elbows on knees, head in hands.

Though the sofa now often welcomed both of them, it was almost common knowledge that it was the place of Crowley and the armchair belonged to Aziraphale.

Now absolutely certain that something was wrong with his angel, the demon came to sit beside him and asked softly, "What's wrong, Angel?"

The angel straightened up and replied quietly, "Nothing serious. I just had a little talk with Muriel about scars."

Crowley, confused at first, asked, "Scar?" then grabbed the Angel's hand and continued, now worried, "Did you hurt yourself? You have a wound I don't know about? But how? What happened?"

Aziraphale smiled faintly before replying, "Don't worry, I've got nothing.  After all, we don't mark, we're angels and demons. In fact, this was the subject of our discussion with Muriel: they had trouble understanding the concept of having a scar, the human concept. And so, as I explained it to them, I realized that you and I have our share of scars, even if they aren't visible."

The angel's expression darkened as he added, "Even if they aren't, the memory of the injury is very present and is like a visible scar, the reminder of the wound that was here. Not completely healed."

It was then that the demon understood what the angel meant and nodded before gently taking his lover's hand and waiting for him to continue. 

Aziraphale intertwined his fingers with the his lover's before resuming, "Talking to Muriel made me realize how much Heaven had scarred us, all of us. And I couldn't help but think that you probably had the biggest scar of them all, and especially that I had contributed to rubbing salt into it for many years."

Crowley understood absolutely nothing of what the angel had just said and looked at him in complete confusion as he said, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

The angel squeezed the demon's hand and explained, "You were cast out of heaven. You went from being an angel to being a demon, and every time you told me about something you'd done, I told you it was normal because it was your nature, because you were a demon, while all I did was reopen the wound, over and over again, without allowing it to close. I'm sor-"

Aziraphale was unable to continue because Crowley had swiftly removed his hand from his and had just grabbed him by the shoulders, holding him firmly before saying in an almost harsh tone, "You're torturing yourself for this? Angel, if you only knew, it's been so long since that scar healed. And it's thanks to you. Your trust when I was supposed to be your enemy, your acceptance of who I was when we met again. Do you think I really took it to heart every time you told me that it was in my nature as a demon? No, because despite your words, I knew we were on the same side, that you had my back as much as I had yours. In fact, I think you've got it all wrong. The one with the most scars, or the deepest scars left by Heaven, is you, Angel."

"Crowley, it's not true, I didn't--"

The demon shook his head to stop him and replied, "Don't tell me it's not true."

He placed his hand gently on the angel's chest and said more softly, "This here, this sweet heart, has endured the bullying of Heaven for more years than it takes to say it. You've endured belittlement, condescension, scorn far more often than I have, and by your own. From those who were supposed to be on your side, more than from me, who was supposed to be your enemy. I don't care if they say I'm a demon, that it's in my nature to do evil. I know who I am. As long as I have your trust and love, the rest doesn't matter. You forced yourself to do what they wanted, even when it seemed unfair, and when you dared to think outside the box, they just tried to put you back in it. All of this was like a wound that never had time to heal, reopening over and over for thousands of years."

The demon watched the angel swallow several times before he let out a long sigh. Then Aziraphale placed his hand on Crowley's still on his chest and said in a voice slightly hoarse with emotion, "But it healed. Thanks to you."

The demon shook his head, but the angel continued insistently, "You healed it and you continue to heal it, Crowley, with every little word of praise, every kind word buried under a layer of humor, every time you encouraged me to just be outside the box. For 10,000 little wounds inflicted by Heaven, you, your presence, every time, was the saving balm that took the sting out of it all. So no matter how much I suffered, I knew you would ease the pain."

The angel raised the demon's hand to his lips to press a long kiss to the palm. But as he moved to release it, Crowley slid his hand to the back of the Angel's neck and pulled his face closer to his own, crushing his lips against the angel's. 

The kiss, tender at first, soon became fierce, each clutching the other's face as if each were the other's lifeline.

Then, little by little, the frenzy of the kiss gave way to something gentler, and Crowley's hands slid from the angel's neck to his shoulders before gently pushing him back until the angel had no choice but to lie back on the sofa. Crowley, for his part, moved so that he was lying on top of Aziraphale, both elbows framing the face lit by a small, trembling smile.

The demon, visibly moved, pressed a light kiss to the angel's lips and said softly, "All these scars, I wish I could kiss them away one by one.

His gaze was caught by a tear rolling down the angel's cheek, and he wiped it away with his lips, beginning a trail of kisses that spread along the cheek to the angel's jaw before following the curve down to the hollow of his neck.

Once there, the demon straightened and placed his hands on the first button of the angel's shirt, looking him straight in the eye. 

Aziraphale, understanding the silent question, simply nodded.

Crowley smiled gently at him before opening his shirt, button by button. He didn't undo all the buttons, just enough to expose the angel's chest. 

Then the demon leaned forward and said softly, "I wish I could kiss it better," then closed the distance between his lips and the bare chest and planted a long kiss on it.  

He let the kiss linger until he felt Aziraphale's hands rest on his head and the angel forced him to lift it, saying softly, "That's what you do, you kiss it better, and that's long before you put your lips here."

Aziraphale ran his thumb over the demon's lips before pulling him up and saying softly, "Come here."

He drew Crowley's face to his and planted a soft kiss on his lips before wrapping his arms around his lover to hold him close. The demon buried his face in the angel's neck and slid his hand between their pressed bodies, right where he'd kissed him on the chest. On his wounded heart. Between their wounded hearts.

They stayed like that for a long time, in an embrace that did more than words to soothe the scars the past had left in their hearts.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable kisses series : here

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

Ineffable Growing Love - Series post S2

Part 1 Story 1-99

Part 2 Story 100-?

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #50 kisses

[mattspolitank]

REUNION IN

PROGRESS

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆╰┈➤Pairings:Matt Sturniolo and Anna Johnson

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆╰┈➤:Warnings: fluff,

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧╰┈➤SUMMARY:

ANNA JOHNSON visits her best friend Madi where she reunites with her childhood bestfriends. The catch is she hasn't talked to MATT STURNIOLO since junior year. Will that change?

CHAPTER 005

Real life,Social Media,Messages

It's been a little while since the party started and I see Madi and Nick coming out with a big cake with fireworks on top.

Everyone started singing Happy birthday to me and I blew out the candles as everyone started clapping.

My heart was full.I was celebrating my birthday with the people that I loved the most and i was happy for the very first time in so long.

A little after Matt finally came up to me.

"Happy birthday Whisper" I slightly smiled at the nickname .

"Thank you Moon"He also slightly smiled at the nickname

!Flashback!

"I have this for you Anna" Matt says as he lets his bracelet onto her palm.

"Thank you moon"Anna says while Matt looks at her

"Where did moon come from?"

"You're like the moon.You're someone who seems kinda dark or mysterious from the outside but has this really bright and positive vibe on the inside. Like, you've been through some tough stuff times but still manage to be a light for others."

"I love it so much thank you Whisper"He giggled while saying it since whisper is a interesting nickname to give

"Where did that one come from now"I said while laughing

"It conveys both your outgoing and cute demeanor, like a soft whisper of charm, while also hinting at your inner personality, which is quieter and more reserved, like a whisper in a crowded room."He replied

"I love it so much Matt oh my god you really thought about that one"

"Oh my god I haven't heard those Nicknames in forever"I tell him

"We should bring them back" he slightly turns his body facing me

"I'd actually love that"I smiled

andysamberglover111:

@pepsilover111 @madi.flipabitch

@abeisbabe

@pepsilover111 @abeisbabe @mattsspam

@madi.flipabitch

@mattsspam

Liked by madi.flipabitch, mattsspam and 2083 others...

andysamberglover111:Best birthday with the people I love.

Comments

user7864570943 ANNA AND MATT IN THE LAST ONE HELLO???!!!

↳user76839164906 They're definitelydating

madi.flipabitch I love you so much

↳ andysamberglover111 Love you moree

abeisbabe kid was trying to grab chriss phone in the 4th slide

↳pepsilover111 and she failed miserably

↳andysamberglover111 the internet DID NOT have to know that

annaupdates AHH I HOPE YOU HAD THE BEST TIME

↳andysamberglover111 thank you lovee ❤️

user7838625789 Matt strengthen your rizz my guy LOCK INNN

↳ abeisbabe BEEN SAYIN

↳ mattsspam NICK DUDE

mattsspam made your photo dump better💪

↳andysamberglover111 whatever makes u sleep at night

↳madi.flipabitch L RIZZ BRO

The party had ended a few hours ago but I just couldn't sleep,and apparently so couldn't Matt since he sent me a message.

Matt 🌝

Hey whisper are you awake??

Yeah I am

Can you come to my room rq?

Yeah I'm omw rn

I went into his room ,sat down on his bed and waited for him to start telling me what he had to say.

"whisper I just want to tell you this so that it's off my chest.I like you,alot and I don't want that to break out friendship once again.Its okay if you don't feel the same "

I didn't expect that.I was shocked.Matthew Sturniolo,the man that I've 'hated' for 3 years likes me,and I like him back.This must be a fever dream.

I didn't think much of what to say except that I really wanted to kiss the guy.I leaned in and smashed our lips together and he returned the kiss.

My hands cupped his face while his his hand went on my neck and his left hand made its way onto my waist.

I felt an adrenaline rush through my body.I had waited for this moment for the longest time ever.

When we both pulled away we kept our hands in the original places,except for both of Matts hands were on my waist.

I had the biggest smile on my face.

"Holy shit,that just happened"he said

"don't make it weird dude"he giggled after I said that and signaled we should go and lay on his bed.

"Let's watch Brooklyn nine nine"I tell him while he opens. Netflix on his laptop

We watched the show until we both fell asleep.We didn't realize when we did but we did fall asleep.

••••••••••••••••••••

a/n:the fact that she locked in.so so sorry that I haven't posted in so long,I fkn hate school.

Tags: @mattsbella @junnniiieee07

#christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #fanfic #reunion #work in progress

[letstalkhockey]

𝙎𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘾𝙖𝙢𝙥 𝙈𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙣; 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚

SUMMARY: Inwhich people change, and so does summer camp. Teenagers all spending summer together; with y/n falling in love with no other than Jack Hughes, will rivalry's and rules keep them apart? Or will status and no other than Jack himself, ruin everything?

WARNINGS: 18+ CONTENT *I do not encourage you to go beyond this point if you are sensitive to any further topics. MINORS DNI - Violence, Smut, Indications to smut, Alcohol & substance use, swearing, mentions to serious topics, etc.

NOTE: Welcome to the Prologue, which is the shortest part to this story. I apologize for not making it longer, but this prologue gives a tiny view into what the whole story will be without spoiling it. 🤍

MASTERLIST: main m.list

𝙎𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘾𝙖𝙢𝙥 𝙈𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙣; 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚 - 1k+ words

Camp Michigan; my home away from home each summer since the ripe age of 8 years old. Camp Michigan had been where I spent summers, from being a camper, to now, at 16, attending camp and being a camp counselor with others my age who have been attending ever since we were young - and those new. Being at camp had either been the greatest experience of the one month you’d spend out of your two month break. Or the greatest challenge. Each year, a new decision is made. New memories are formed, and even new connections.

Camp michigan consisted of traditions, our annual yearly sleepover in dining hall, the annual late night swim, dodgeball torty - which always included someone getting injured from how competitive some people would be - the annual bonfire to kick-off the beginning, and my favorite, the treehouse, not so much a tradition, but something I created when I was younger. Only in a place where me and a few other members knew of. It was special, and I would always find myself there whenever I needed a break or a good sleep.

Each year it was one or the other, no inbetween, most of the years I've spent attending camp ever since the age of 8 years old, I found myself leaving with memories to last a life time, having spent my summers making them the greatest experiences of my entire life. That was, until the summer i turned 16, one whole year ago from right now; id been 15, getting on the bus for summer camp, my birthday slowly approaching, which had always been spent at camp, the staff would even get the other campers to help with baking a cake; even though each time it would end up in someone’s face, or awfully decorated, it still meant everything to me. We’d even have a huge party to celebrate; as if most of the summer hadn’t already consisted of fun activities, it was another added to the long list.

That was, until the summer I turned 16.

On my 16th birthday, August 14th, nothing. I mean nothing, no cake, no party, no anything. It was like any other day at camp. Except most of my day had been spent waiting around in my cabin for someone to come tell me it was all some joke, or that a surprise party was being held and they wanted to keep everything a secret. The most I'd gotten was a couple of ‘happy birthdays’ from my close friends, and even some random kids who’d I’d been with for years.

It was my 16th birthday - my sweet 16 at that. And I spent it cooped up in a cabin for most of the day, the night ending with some stupid activity no other than Jack Hughes and his weird counselor group had planned. Which had pissed me off more than anticipated. And I snapped at him. Like a full blown yelling match, he mocked me, and made me cry on my own birthday; we also got in trouble, well, I did. Almost got sent home, actually. From the moment he stepped foot to camp, he went by calling you a series of names you’d rather not elaborate on. He was only older than you by a few months, yet he acted like he had been ancient.

Jack Hughes first summer at camp michigan, was last summer. Yet he’d made friends with almost everyone, except for me and my counselor group. It was an unspoken rivalry that went back - these was always the girls group, and the guys group. Always having a leader; being me for my girls, and Jack for his boys. He’d claimed that title almost immediately, somehow robbing my good friend miles of his seniority, which was supposed to mean he was leader. But no, ‘hot shot Hughes’ flew in, having everything handed to the son of a bitch. I’ve never hated anyone more; rivalry was so on.

He was almost insufferable, I’d always assume his overconfident cocky-act was from his popular hockey captain status which he said he held at school. I couldn’t have cared less, about him or his hockey status. He’d go around acting like he owned the place when he hadn’t even been there a week. The staff loved him, but you were pretty sure that was only because of his ‘charm’, or his flirty attitude, at first, most of your cabin crew had also been head over heels for the new hot boy, but you quickly shut them down with any idea of anything happening between any of cabin A with Cabin B. Rules were rules and a rivalry was a rivalry.

I never did know if he knew it had been your birthday that day, if he planned what he had just because he wanted to make your life a living hell, or if he just genuinely did not know. I wasn’t  sure if you’d ever get that answer, and over time I cared less. I’d been too focused on the summer ahead of you and that only. Your 17th would be spent like any other this year. I made sure to plan in advance, for my own sake anyway. This was going to be one of my last years at the camp, I’d be graduating the school year to come, and be moving off to whatever was planned for myself next, so some stupid boys weren’t about to ruin that for me. No matter how many names, or flirtatious things Jack would shoot at me, i had no intent of falling for his fuck boy acts.

For that matter, my good friend, and cabin member, Lacey, had been secretly seeing one of the guys from B cabin, this past summer. Joey. It was well known between the girls cabin, although the boys not so much. A few other girls had spent time with some of the boys, but none went any further in the way Lacey had it out with Joey. A part of me only dreamed of the cliche rivalry love story, yet with the current circumstances, I’d been almost positive that was never, ever going to happen.

Seriously. Imagine, Jack Hughes, and me?

Pffft.

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fanfic #jack hughes fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #luke hughes #quinn hughes #nhl players #trevor zegras #cole caufield #NHL fanfic #hockey fanfiction #hockey fandom #hockey imagine #hockey fic rec #nhl smut #nhl hockey #jack hughes x y/n #hughes brothers

[batshieroglyphics]

I guess it's that time of year, again, when I ask folks to send me prompts(text is link to my ask box) for the 800-2k word ficlets I send out with holiday cards. (For those new to this, ficlets will get publicly posted to AO3 in Feb/March of 2025. And I usually post the rough drafts to Patreon, if you really can't wait.)

Things to keep in mind about prompting:

I do not anticipate to write every prompt I get, and multiple people sending in the same or a very similar prompt will not make it more likely to get written. (This does not mean you shouldn't send in a prompt.)

I don't write in any of my existing AUs, because I don't want folks to have to be familiar with a longer fic or series to enjoy a little ficlet with their card.

I am not currently writing Harry Potter for personal reasons. Any prompts sent for this fandom will be deleted out of hand. (This does include crossovers.)

I will 100% write a ficlet for my own OCs. I am not comfortable writing a ficlet with another person's OCs unless their creator requests it themself, and are open to me pestering them for more information.

I will write both shippy and platonic ficlets. However, these do aim to be family-friendly, since I don't know who's opening anyone's mail, so we aim for a generalised Teen rating.

If you've never seen me write a ship, but you know I'm in the fandom, go ahead and prompt it. (If it's a ship that I have no intention to write, I'll just quietly delete it, not here to insult anyone's joys.)

Yes, anon is on. Please don't give me a reason to change that.

You can also send your prompts to either of my multi-fandom blogs (batsutousai and the back-up bats-batsutousai) or my twitter (LadyMarvolo). You can also send them through my cohost (batsutousai) or bluesky (batsutousai), but I keep forgetting to check both of those places and don't know what sorts of notifications are turned on, whoops.

BATS' SHIP LIST (text is the link. This is not all-inclusive, just the ones I am 100% comfortable with and down with writing. Yes, I know I said, last year, that I was going to try to put together a platonic 'ships' list. That clearly has not happened. I shall make an attempt again this year, but my promises are sand.)

PROMPTS (just gonna do links to some of the prompt lists I've reblogged previously, just please let me know which list you're pulling from?)

Bats' previously created holiday ficlets prompts list

Line of dialogue

Four word prompts

Numbered dialogue prompts

X Me prompts

I think there's one in my drafts that cuddling related? I'll see if I can't find that and post it some time this week.

And, no, you do not have to pick prompts off the lists. If you've got one you've been dying to send me, go for it. Just, please keep in mind that I'm only looking for short ficlet prompts at this time.

#bats' holiday card ficlets #prompt request #about the Bats

[anincompletelist]

twenty questions for fic writers

thanks to @cricketnationrise @happiness-of-the-pursuit @kiwiana-writes

@ninzied @captainjunglegym for the tags friends! it's been a while since I've last done one of these so I figured I would participate again! xx

+

how many works do you have on ao3?

56! (technically 60 though… 😏🤫)

what's your total ao3 word count?

1,248,687

what fandoms do you write for?

RWRB (currently) [ 1D and teen wolf (past) ]

top five fics by kudos:

but if you could see us from a distance you'd know I've always been so close to you - the og sex curse one shot

Something Borrowed, Something Blue - enemies to lovers at june's wedding

I'll bet it all on me and you, I'll bet it all you're bulletproof - coworkers trivia fluff

praying our bridges don't make waves - soulmates with a twist

kiss me like you've got nowhere to be - roommates to lovers fluff

do you respond to comments?

nowhere near as much as I'd like to! my capacity for social interaction lately has been... lacking, to the say the least ksjhdkshd BUT I SEE AND READ THEM ALL AND I HOLD THEM SO CLOSE <3333

what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

ooh I can't usually do angsty endings so I'm carving my own loophole here -- the first two fics in the sex curse series are definitely my most angsty endings before they work their shit out in the third skjdhsjkhd

what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

most of mine do, but I'd say that overall the most fluffy ones are in the firstprince first kisses series!

do you get hate on fics?

I most definitely did in my old fandom but people have been generally very kind and supportive to me here so far! :')

do you write smut?

yes!

craziest crossover:

my george x firstprince hurt/comfort is very special to me <3

(but I also have a Jeff from bottoms x Shane from minx au in the docs so ksjhdhfjh that too)

have you ever had a fic stolen?

I hope not!

have you ever had a fic translated?

not in this fandom! but I have had some lovely folks record some podfics of my works! (here and here!)

have you ever co-written a fic before?

not for rwrb! (yet???? ksjhdkjhfkjh)

all time favorite ship?

I gotta go with fp! they got me like that niall horan ear crawling gif fr I'll never be the same

what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

oh gosh I'm not sure. I HOPE I finish them all but I also have an obscene amount so ksjhdksjdhf not crossing anything off yet!

what are your writing strengths?

I think dialogue? it's always the part of my fics that I write first, and then I build the rest of the story around it. I hope it's a solid foundation!

what are your writing weaknesses?

there's a fine line between explaining and over-explaining and I think sometimes I fall into the second category skjdhkjhf. I love some introspection as much as the next guy but I'm working on only including details that feel most pertinent to the story.

thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I love it! I think it can be so special and can be another way to connect readers with the characters and the story. I took Spanish all four years of high school so I'm a little rusty now, and studied French for a while a few years ago and just picked it back up recently! my translations aren't always perfect but luckily I've had some very kind people to check or point these things out for me :)

first fandom you wrote in?

..... hollywood heights sjkhdjkhgdfh

favorite fic you've written?

oh no. I am so bad at perceiving myself ksjhdjkdjfhg. I think each of my fics definitely served a purpose for me while writing them, but lately I've found myself returning to these three (I'm breaking the rules yes sorry):

Something Borrowed, Something Blue

there were pages turned with the bridges burned (everything you lose is a step you take) - diabetic!Alex

treading water in the deep, just waiting for the tides to meet -(soulmates)

but also there's a wip I'm working now which..... might take first place when I post skjdhkjsdh WE'LL SEE!

+

PLEASE PLEASE CONSIDER THIS OPEN TAG IF YOU'D LIKE TO DO IT! with all of the tumblr nonsense and how behind I've been on here lately I'm all over the place with tags at the moment.

other tags (no pressure!): @firenati0n @nocoastposts @wordsofhoneydew @thedramasummer

@heysweetheart-writes @stellarm @suseagull04 @bigassbowlingballhead

@eusuntgratie @magicandarchery @read-and-write- @iboatedhere

@anchoredarchangel @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @alasse9 @itsmaybitheway

@getmehighonmagic @rmd-writes @sparklepocalypse

xx

#tag games #about me

[mrsfitzgerald]

11.06.23

#rammstein #paul landers #richard kruspe #paulchard #you can't even imagine how mad i am #WHAT THE FUCK #I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS SINCE LAST YEAR. #I THOUGHT I'D NEVER SEE THEM TOGETHER ON THIS SONG AGAIN. #AND TILL RUINED EVERYTHING. #ПИЗДЕЦ НАХУЙ #Я ЗЛА КАК ТЫСЯЧА ЧЕРТЕЙ #this is not funny #my ramm gifs #stadium tour 23

[fleshwizard]

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄'𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐎

#i've been waiting years to draw this like since highschool #so i'm sooo happy to finally be able to put it altogether #maybe not its final version but for now im satisfied ahah #it gathers lots of things i drew lately (3-4 years) : medieval maps / space maps / alchemy symbols and circles #also notice how there is no style consistency in my blog on my last posts ahahaha #also ive got tons of lore idea about hell and i wish i had time to illustrate them and think more about it #map #medieval #fantasy #Dante's inferno #divine comedy #hell #alchemy #circle #litterature #occult #demonology #ink #inferno #dark academia #catabasis

[crescentfool]

TWO YEARS OF MINATO NUI!!! 💙

#lizzy speaks #minato arisato #this was the best 16 dollars i've ever spent he's given me immeasurable joy #it was a lot of fun to look through my photos from the past two years and choose what i wanted to post! #im mostly posting this for myself i wanna look at my 'best of minato nui year 2' but if u enjoy it! hell yeah #some of these were 'rejects' from last year's one (since it was a 10 img limit back then) #and some of these i forgot i took. i completely forgot i held minato with tongs and it TOOK ME THE FUCK OUT #i loove taking him to places he brightens my day so much :) #he's also been very helpful in getting me to go walking on a daily basis... #i have a photo album dedicated to taking one photo of minato nui a day in rainbow color order #and i can't wait to accumulate more pictures of him!! this is proof that i exist!!! #i love to take minato around the island. i hope i can take him to more places!!!! see you all next year!!