#fanfiction writers were there when no one was

[berberriescorner]

How would rio and y/n react if marcus brings a girl home?

Okay, so my imagination ran wild with this one. It's a bit lengthy, but hopefully you’ll enjoy it nonetheless. I’m glad to finally have gotten a bit of a creative spark. Hopefully, I’m not rusty. Please excuse any grammatical errors. This isn't heavily edited and I went with the flow. It would be greatly appreciated if you all love, comment, and reblog. Please understand (I know some get tired of hearing it but it’s important) that writing fanfiction takes time and dedication. Then there is the fact that it’s free. Tapping the love button is cool, but it’s the reblogs that help writers. Try to keep that in mind 💓.

Word Count: 3,500+

Warnings: A bit of fluff, laughter, and a little *cough, a hefty piece of* spice.

The aroma of garlic wafted through your newly renovated kitchen. It had been an early Mother's Day present from Rio and the babies. Your husband swaggered into the kitchen fresh out of the shower. He watched you stir the pasta and smiled as you made a mental note aloud to add more cream cheese. The deep timbre of your husband's voice startled you.

“Stay put mama. I'll grab some for you,” he rasped, lips brushing the side of your neck. His hand left a gentle squeeze on your hip.

“Damn it, Chris. Baby, I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that. I should've known your stealthy, fine ass was nearby. The scent of your cologne and body wash should've given you away.”

He stepped back over to the stove adding cheese. You shivered as his fingers danced up your spine, curling around to the front of you. You hummed as his hand lightly cupped your throat. As if your body knew exactly what he wanted, you tilted your head, angling it so he could gain access. Rio’s lips trailed light kisses up your neck, across the jawline.

“Food smells good, darling. When we eatin’?”

You chuckled, slapping at his hand as his finger dipped into the alfredo sauce.

“Boy! Get your fingers out of my pan.”

“Damn, ma! I can't get a little taste. Come on, mama. Daddy’s hungry,” he groaned.

“That's on you. Shouldn't have skipped lunch.”

Rio kissed his teeth, swatting your bottom playfully.

“You know I was handling business, sweetheart. Don't start,” he teased.

“Let that have been me not eating. You would've jumped in my shit.”

His head shook in disagreement, “Mm no. I would've just brought you some food and insisted you eat.”

“Last time I brought you lunch it turned into an argument.”

“Cause you don't listen. You know you weren't supposed to be anywhere near that warehouse. It was a matter of safety. Where that's concerned, you'll always come first, mama.”

You couldn't help but smile and roll your eyes at the sweet sentiment.

“Whatever, bossy ass. We’ll eat once the oldest baby boy gets here.”

“That's right it's our weekend,” he perked up.

Though there were times Rio wished he could see his son every day. He knew that Marcus was both his and Rhea’s pride and joy. Rio was thankful that they had a healthy co-parenting relationship. Joint custody had always been smooth with Rhea. She'd never dream of ever keeping their son away from his father. He was grateful that they both managed to move on. They both found love again, remarried, and everyone seemed to get along just fine. Rio loved that you and Rhea found friendship in one another. Your kids adored Rhea just as much as Marcus did you.

“Oh, you thought I was making this fire-ass pasta for you? Nope, Zaddy this for my oldest baby boy,” you teased Rio playfully.

“That’s fine! So long as I get to choose my dessert,” he rasped, his eyes scanning over your body.

Your eyes met, both nibbling at your bottom lip. Just as you were about to dive deeper into the topic, Alexa announced someone was at the front door. You tapped your phone screen, turning on the ring doorbell’s mic.

“Rhea, stop acting like you don’t have a key. Bring your beautiful self into this house.”

You smiled as she giggled her way through the front door.

“We’re in the kitchen,” Rio called out.

“Boy! Stop all that yelling. You wake that baby up and it’s your ass.”

Your husband kissed his teeth, “last I checked this was our house,” he mumbled, walking over to Marcus and pulling him into a bear hug. “What’s up, man?”

Marcus answered his question, immediately following with, “Can I go check on the baby? Where’s everybody else?”

“Rudeness. Are you forgetting something,” Rhea questioned her eager teenager.

She chuckled as he looked at her in confusion as she continued, “Your bonus mama is burning in this kitchen. Probably for you. Did you say hello? Or maybe thank you? Where is her loving,” Rhea jokingly scolded her son.

“Sorry, ma. He replied shyly, hugging you tightly and kissing your cheek. “Thank you for cooking my favorite food.”

“It’s cool handsome,” you started, pinching his cheek. “The kids are in the theater room and the baby is down for the night, but go on up and steal a little sugar.”

Just as he was about to excuse himself, Rhea interrupted him, “Not so fast young man. You’re not slick. Don’t you want to share the news?”

“Mami,” Marcus whined.

“That’s okay, I'll tell them. Go on, scaredy cat.”

Marcus made his escape as Rhea turned back to you and Rio. She bypassed him, linking her arm with yours.

“Come, chica. I’ve got some chisme for you.”

Your husband, the big baby he is, groaned, “Nice to see you too, Rhea. Why am I not included?”

“Are you not in the room? You are included, fool,” Rhea teased.

“Chris, baby. I love you, but hush. I'm trying to see some.”

Both women laughed at him as he rolled his eyes and went silent.

“ Marcus sat down with us sometime last week. Said he wanted to invite his lady friend over for dinner. Our baby has a girlfriend, sis.”

The two of you stared at one another, several seconds passed. As if he was expecting it, Rio sighed, running his hand down his face as the two of you started squealing like school girls.”

“Mama, Rhea, the baby,” he reminded the both of you.

You both clapped a hand over your mouths, silently giggling.

“What's her name? Have you met her? The parents?”

“Baby, chill,” Rio chuckled.

You looked at him, studying him for a moment. Head tilted, you questioned, “You already knew. Didn't you?”

He smirked, “You already know the answer to that, mama. You know I stay ten steps ahead.”

“He told you first,” Rhea questioned.

“Listen, he asked for advice on girls a while back. I suspected then he had his eye on somebody. I played it cool. If you ask too many questions, he’ll shut down. We had the talk. About a week after that. Marcus told me he was talking to someone.”

“The talk,” you and Rhea said in unison. “Should we be worried about where this is going?”

“Ladies relax. It's better to have it early. Just to be on the safe side.”

“You gave him condoms. Didn't you,” Rhea snarked.

“Are you ready to be a grandmother? I mean I’d be the coldest abuelo out here, but let's try to prevent that from happening.”

“He brought her home for dinner the other day. She's so sweet and shy. Her name is Isabella, but she goes by Isa. He's got his papi’s taste. She's Afrolatina, a beautiful young lady!”

“Okay! I see my boy! He found him a woman who embodies two of the most important women in his life,” Rio praised with pride.

“The mom seems to be well-rounded. Surely we don't have anything to worry about,” Rhea insisted.

“The both of you were sweet and shy when I first met you. Need I say more? Then there's those stories your mom told me about your teenage years,” he smirked toward you.

“Sneak one damn boy through your window and you never live it down. Kiss my ass, Christoper,” you cackled, flipping him the bird.

Rio puckered his lips, bending down, laughing as you mugged his forehead.

“Sis! Your ass was hot back in the day, huh?”

“Chill on my wife. Tell me, how old were you when we had Marcus?”

Rhea kissed her teeth, “He got a response for everything, huh,” she asked you. “Anyway! He wants you all to meet her. Can he invite her over for dinner tomorrow?”

Rio smiled at you bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“I take it our answer is yes, mama?”

After a stressful Saturday afternoon, Rio stepped into the foyer of his home. His eyes drifted shut for a moment as he welcomed the delicious smell of lemon herbs, and the smell of your perfume wafted through the air. Sandals tapped across the wooden floor, Rio’s lashes fluttered open, dancing at the sight of you meeting him at the front door.

“Hey Papa,” you started, smile faltering. You could sense the heaviness of his day. “Long day, baby,” you questioned.

His head tilted to the side, an appreciative smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Rio’s hands cupped your side pulling you into a tight hug as he buried his head in your neck. Breathing you in again, his lips tickled the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“Shit was hectic, but I’m sure some kisses would make me feel better,” he whispered in a sultry tone.

Your hands brushed against his chest, as you tip-toed to reach his lips. He chuckled at your struggle to reach his lips, meeting you the rest of the way. Your lips danced together in soft, slow strokes. The sound of footsteps speeding down the steps interrupted the lip lock.

“Ma! Pops! You’re not going to be doing all that in front of Isa, are you? Why’s it so quiet around here?”

You giggled as Rio reared his head back. “I’m sorry son, I didn’t know you paid bills around here. Y’all be forgetting this my house…our house,” he corrected when you lightly cleared your throat.

“Your siblings can be a lot. We wanted to have time to focus on getting to know your girlfriend. I managed to arrange a night with Nana. They’ll be back tomorrow. She can meet everybody next time we have her over. Don’t worry, baby. Papi and I promise to be on our best behavior,” you teased Marcus.

“I ain’t promising nothin’. Listen, I’ll kiss my wife all I want, bro. Don’t be mad I’m the only one getting kisses around here,” he joked, giving Marcus a playful shove.”

“Pops, chill on me. Who said I ain’t got it like that?”

Rio cackled, dapping Marcus up. The laughter between the two stopped abruptly when they saw you standing straight-faced, head tilted, and arms crossed.

“I’m pretty sure I can speak for your mother when I say this. You better be acting accordingly with that young lady. Nothing short of being respectful is acceptable. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Your eyes landed on Rio, “Then I got you over here gassing him up.”

“My bad, mama. We’ll tighten up.”

“That’s what I thought,” you finished sauntering off to the kitchen.

 Rio turned back to Marcus and they both dapped each other up silently.

“It’s like that, son?”

“I learned from the best,” Marcus responded.

“My boy. Seriously though, not too much. Take things slowly. You have a lot of life to live. Don’t let thinking you're grown get you in trouble. You bring a baby home, and that’s ya ass. Papi can’t save you from the mama squad. If you can’t wait, do at least three things for me. Wrap it up, don’t do it in mine or your mom’s house, and don’t play with her feelings. You better plan on sticking around. Don’t be that guy, son. We’ve raised you better than that.”

“Yessir, I give you my word, pops.”

Rio embraced Marcus and gave his shoulders a firm squeeze as they pulled apart.

“You nervous,” Rio asked as the doorbell sounded.

“Just promise me you won’t let Ma pull out the photo albums.”

“Listen, I’m a man of many talents, but telling that woman not to do something almost always has the opposite effect. Ma listens when it counts,” he smirked, biting his lip.

“That’s information I honestly didn’t need to know, Dad.”

The first twenty minutes had been hilarious. You, Isa, and her mother all silently laughed at the way Isa’s father stumbled over his words while making introductions with Rio.

Apparently Marcus nor his girlfriend had taken the liberty of giving the poor man a heads up. He had suspected that he was going to assert himself as an overprotective father. One look at Marcus’ father and his bravado and puffed-out chest had deflated. Christopher wasn’t about to be checked by anyone and little did they know, neither were you. 

Dinner had gone by smoothly. The two of you succeeded in not embarrassing your son, as did her parents. Isa was a sweet, shy, and intelligent girl. You both loved her for Marcus. The teens had asked permission to have a movie night in the family theatre room. All parents agreed that it would be okay so long as it wasn’t unattended. You had even offered for Isa’s parents to join. Her father needed to finish up some work at home, and Rio along with Marcus, offered to drop her home in a few hours. 

As the parents you opted, to sit in the back row of home theatre seats to give them some sort of privacy. You didn’t want to crowd them too much. That and you knew with certainty that Rio was going to get handsy as soon as the lights dimmed. Twenty minutes of screen time had barely passed before his hand started a soft, tingling trail up your thigh. You allowed his fingers to make it inches away from the place he desired before swatting at him. His heated gaze met yours and the left corner of his mouth tilted up as he mouthed the word, “Why?”

Your head cocked to the side as you looked at him as if he were crazy. You sucked your teeth, pointing a finger in the direction of the kids. Rio wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to whisper in your ear, “Oh you really thought I was cold. You know why I pulled this blanket out, mama.” He laughed as you rolled your eyes, shoving him away from you. 

“Do that again and I’m sitting in my own lounger,” you sassed.

“All this space and you want to sit by yourself. Don’t be like that, mama.”

You had glanced in the direction of the children to see if they had overheard, but froze as you saw their hands inching closer to one another. Your hand tapped the top of Rio’s repetitively to get him to look. The two of you shared a smile at the innocence of the situation. Marcus looked back as the two of you tried to focus your attention elsewhere. The teen shook his head as his hand shifted away some. The two of you kissed your teeth and the sound echoed off the theatre walls as Marcus shook his head and Isa giggled.

It felt as if you had ruined the moment, and Rio attempted to correct the situation. Clearing his throat he asked the room, “Anybody want chips? Popcorn? Something to drink?”

You caught on and joined in, “I could go for some ice water and we can share a snack babe. Let’s go round up some refreshments.”

The kids had started to decline, but the two of you left in a hurry.

Rio propped himself against the kitchen island with his hands clasped. You crept towards your husband smirking. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you asked, “How much time should we give them to be unsupervised?”

“That depends, mama. Are you trying to be a responsible parent or a laid-back one? Responsible would be in the realm of maybe five or ten minutes. Laidback–about twenty or so.”

Rio’s hands traveled the length of your back, down to your plush backside. With a gentle squeeze, he continued, “I’m leaning towards laidback, mama,” he rasped. “Maybe we can take that time alone to–connect ourselves.”

“You truly have a one-track mind. We are not about to do anything with a guest in the house. Do you know what teenagers can do in twenty or so minutes?”

“Mama, what’s the most that could happen?”

“Our last child happened in twenty minutes, Rio.”

“We were pressed for time, and I was down bad for you that night, mama.”

“You’re always down bad for me. Even at this moment, you are.”

“No lies told. If you know that, stop playing. C’mere, mama.”

Rio nibbled at your neck, even as you continued to protest, “Rio, seriously. We should head back soon.”

“C’mon, mama. Let that boy cook for a few minutes. I told him to take things slow and to never do anything like that under his mom’s or our roof.”

“Oh, and you think that’s gon’ stop him?”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“This is coming from the man, that was giving me backshots under his grandmother’s roof last Christmas.”

“We’re married with a ton of children. Trust and believe, she knows you’re getting handed pipe left and right, mama.”

“You get on my damn nerves. Always got a response–.”

The sentence came to a halt as Rio’s hand slipped into the opening of your dress, tugging a nipple through the silk material of your bra.

“F-fuck, Rio, don’t.”

His lips hovered over yours. The minty freshness of his breath fanning across your bottom lip. He nipped at it before asking, “You really want me to stop, mama?”

“Pantry, now.”

With those two words, Rio picked you up, legs wrapping around his waist, as he carried you to the destination. The door softly clicked closed, as he pressed you against some of the shelving. Your lips collided, tongues stroking one another, battling for dominance. The hem of your dress shifted upward, bunching at your waist. Rio groaned as his tented dark wash jeans ground against your damp panties. A moan slipped from your lips and he shushed you.

“Gotta keep quiet baby,” he whispered as his lips moved to suck at your throat.

His lips continued to nip and suck at your flesh. His long muscular fingers tugged your panties to the side as two fingers massaged your folds before gliding in to slowly stretch you out. The delicious feeling turned you into a whimpering mess as your hips began to rock against his movements.

“Yeah, just like that, mama. Are you gonna be my good girl and come all over my fingers? Yeah, you are. Aren’t you?”

He leaned in, tucking into the side of your neck, and whispered, “Bite down on my shoulder if you need to, darling.”

One of your hands slipped under his shirt as your nails scratched at his skin. You leaned back and pleaded, “Choke me, Daddy. Keep me quiet.”

The minute his hand wrapped around your throat, Rio added a third finger, thrusting in quick, deep strokes. His lips pecked your lips as he groaned, “Come for me, mama. Make a mess all over my fingers.”

All you needed was one last stroke to send you over the edge, but everything came to a halt as you both heard footsteps coming toward the kitchen. The two of you broke apart, fixing your clothes at the speed of lightning. The moment the knob to the pantry door turned, Rio snatched it open, pulling it closed with a bag of chips and a case of soda under his arm.

Marcus eyed his father suspiciously before speaking, “Isa got thirsty and you two were taking forever. So I came to get her some fruit snacks and a soda.”

Rio handed him a soda and explained, “We were coming back. Your pops negotiated a little alone time for ya. Did anything interesting happen?”

Marcus blushed a bit and responded, “Pops, can’t we talk about this later? I don’t want to keep Isa waiting.”

“You right man. Here take this soda and I’ll bring the fruit snacks and the rest of the stuff. Ma and I will be right in. She had to take care of something right quick.”

“Alright, Pops. Thanks.”

Marcus made it a few steps out of the kitchen before ducking his head back around the corner. Rio had started to turn back toward the pantry as he spoke up, “Pops? Tell Ma she can come out of the pantry now. Next time aim for a place that doesn’t house the food we eat.”

“Yeah, okay, wiseass. You’ll understand when you get older and have your own meddlesome ass kids. Take your lady her beverage and mind your business. You just couldn’t let your daddy cook in peace. Could you son?”

You were mortified and could barely look your bonus son in the eye for days.

Tagging some of my lovelies:

@darqchilddaydreamz @4everbrookemarie @starrynite7114

@amorestevens @bisexuallyattractivebitch @1andonlytashae

@rio-reid-whoreee @lovedlover @astoldbychae @percosim

@ravennaortiz @sunshine-flower @novaniskye @alertyoulikeitsamber @realhotgurlshit @abcdestinyyyy @jannavaire

#berberriescorner #berberries asks #i love my mutuals😍 #daddy rio #asks open #rio x black!reader #rio x woc!reader #rio x reader #rio x you #rio x y/n #rio fanfiction #rio fanfic #rio good girls fanfiction #rio good girls #good girls rio #black writer

[lookingfts]

As we approach S3...

First of all, I want to say thank you for the (truly overwhelming) number of asks and comments I've gotten so far! It's been really exciting and this is certainly not intended to discourage anyone from reaching out - it's just my own feelings on the subject.

I've been thinking about a lot of the comments I've gotten over the past few weeks that hint at the show writers not "liking" Kanthony, or them not getting enough screen time in S3. My thoughts on this are and have always been - a) It's a waste of energy to assume things about media we haven't consumed yet, and b) I'm not interested in dwelling on the negatives. Were there things I didn't like about S2? Sure. Are there things I won't like about S3? Almost certainly. But Bridgerton, and Kanthony in particular, has given me a beautiful community that got me back into fanfiction after more than a year of writer's block. And for any legitimate grievances about it, which I know there are some, I am very grateful for that. I'm only here, talking to you all, because of it.

I'm going to sit on my couch on Thursday and eat snacks and watch S3 and enjoy myself, whether we get ten minutes of Kanthony or thirty. (My first fanfic fandom was Scorpion - anyone who has watched that show knows that it got canceled after a finale where the main ship breaks up and all the characters hate each other. So, honestly, I'm pretty content just to get A happy ending, and catch a few glimpses of that happy ending.)

All that is to say - I hope everyone enjoys S3, and I still have a very long list of fics to tackle after it airs, and I just ask that everyone respects my wish, as much as possible, to avoid negativity when reaching out to me after S3. It's not the headspace I want to be in, it won't encourage me to write, and I think fandom in general has lost so much of its enjoyment. I don't care about the show's flaws! It's a show, and not a particularly deep one at that. I love Kanthony, and I love this fandom, and that's ultimately all that matters to me.

#bridgerton #kanthony #kate x anthony #anthony x kate #bridgerton fic

[amcoffey]

Feel Better

Trafalgar Law x chronically ill Reader

(It's a little bit of a "squint your eyes to see the romance" deal)

Summary:

You’ve never missed a dose. No matter what medicine you were on, you took it at the exact dosage and the exact time needed. This truly is no small feat. You have been on a lot of different medicines in the many years since your diagnosis. Pills, injections, IV infusions. It didn’t matter what it was: you never missed a dose. Well… Never until now. To think the only time you’ve ever missed a dose of your meds is because you got isekaied into One Piece. It sounds like a bad joke. Who is going to ever believe you? Note: One Piece belongs to Echiro Oda. Not I, a lowly fanfiction writer, who is just using his characters to cope.

Word Count: 3,249

CW: Chronic illness, medical jargon, descriptions of pain

Other tags: hurt/comfort, angst, second person perspective, probably out of character Law (ya girl hasn't caught up yet. I'm in Wano)

You’ve never missed a dose. No matter what medicine you were on, you took it at the exact dosage and the exact time needed. This truly is no small feat. You have been on a lot of different medicines in the many years since your diagnosis. Pills, injections, IV infusions.

It didn’t matter what it was: you never missed a dose. 

Well… Never until now. 

To think the only time you’ve ever missed a dose of your meds is because you got isekaied into One Piece.

It sounds like a bad joke. Who is going to ever believe you? 

You wouldn’t if you weren’t in that exact situation. You'd laugh if it wasn't for the anxiety raging within you. Sat in your uncomfortable seat, your leg bounced uncontrollably. You ignore the calculated gaze of the man in front of you.

“Can you please explain what happened?” He was quick to the point. There was no nonsense with him. He wanted to talk about what happened. 

And, to put it simply…

“I can’t.” You didn’t. 

A large part of you was hoping desperately that maybe if you prove you’re more trouble than you’re worth he’ll drop it. Law’s eyes narrowed. 

“Can’t? Or won’t?” To your disappointment, he wasn’t giving up that easily. 

“Both actually.” You answered, defiance in your voice as you glared at him. “Can I go now?”

“Nope.” His steely eyes don’t leave yours as he sits forward in his chair. “Not until you tell me what happened.”

“There’s nothing to say.” You lied. He let out a tight sigh in response. 

“You cannot think I’d believe that given what happened.” 

“Nothing happened.” You insist as you stand from your chair. Pain immediately shoots through your stomach that you do your best to ignore. It didn’t matter though because Law definitely noticed the wince. “Anyways thanks for the talk captain! I’ll be seeing you!” You move to push past him but you're stopped when he sticks his arm in your way. 

“Sit down.” Law didn’t even move from his seat but effortlessly pushed you back in yours. “Where are you hurting?” 

“Umm… Nowhere.” You were pushing his buttons, you knew you were. But you'd rather make the Surgeon of Death mad at you than discuss what he wanted to. Law sighed as he shook his head. 

“You’re being stubborn,” You lowered your gaze to the ground. You can’t look at him. “Why can’t you just talk about it?” 

Why? Why can't you talk about it? Because you were not in this situation. You couldn’t be! You were not about to talk about your chronic illness with Trafagalar Law of all people. 

Because why would you tell him about it? You were in remission, you were fine. Whatever happened that got him so worked up was just… A fluke. 

It had to be. 

“Has this been an ongoing problem?" He speaks up again as he shifts forward. "Why haven’t you said anything about it?” 

“In my defense,” You sat back in your chair and sighed. Your arms circle around your torso. You were looking everywhere but to him. “I didn’t think I’d be here for this long.”

“Defense noted,” He states. "But you are here. You have been." Given how uncooperative you’ve been, you expected him to start getting angry by now. And yet, when you braved a look at him, you saw his gaze was much softer than you were expecting. “I suggest you explain. You happen to be with the best doctor around. I can help.” 

You scoff. Gaze darted back to the floor. That wasn’t the first time you’ve heard that. 

In fact, you heard those words the day you got teleported here. You had switched health insurance and had to change gastroenterologist. That day you had your first appointment with him. 

“I’m the best around.” He had reassured you. But when you started giving your medical history he cut you off. Just to tell you a bunch of basic information you already knew.

"Your condition is an autoimmune chronic disease. There is no cure."

As if you hadn't spent the last 10 years grappling with that fact.

And then when you got home you passed out and ended up in the Grand Line. 

At first you thought the scariest part of showing up here was the fact you had no idea where ‘here’ was story wise. Back at home, you were reading One Piece. You had just read about the Strawhats getting an SOS call that told them about a place called Punk Hazard. But you couldn’t get farther in the manga. You were waiting for the next volume to arrive to your apartment. The ironic thing is it probably arrived by now.

But you were wrong to fear the characters and story. The actual scariest thing about being here was what you were dealing with right now.

“Hey,” Law’s soft calling brought you back to reality. A reality you wanted nothing to do with. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, ok?” Your voice was smaller than you wanted it to be. He sighs and there’s some note of understanding in it. 

“Have you ever thought that maybe talking about it will make you feel better?” 

“It won’t.” You say with certainty. Then knowing he was going to have more questions you didn't want to answer you add “Talking about it reminds me it’s there.” 

“Oh really?” His voice is still soft but there’s some exasperation behind it. “And the debilitating abdominal pain you were in not 30 minutes ago doesn’t?” Well… Shit. He had a point. 

"I didn't say it was abdominal pain." You countered. It was the wrong thing to focus on. But it was something

"You didn't have to. I could tell." His lips quirk up in a victorious smirk. "Doctor. Remember?" You roll your eyes and return your attention to the floor.

"I'm not saying a word." The smirk he had on must have been wiped off by now but you didn't check. You saw in your peripheral as he dragged his hand down his face.

"Come on! You were practically paralyzed." You winced, this time not in pain. But because of the truth his words held. "You wouldn’t move, wouldn’t talk. Your face got deathly pale and patchy. You keep pretending that’s nothing but that… That was not nothing.” 

Why do you even care? You bite back the question as your leg continues to bounce. It didn't matter why he cared. What mattered was he was right.

That's when the it hit you...  

Paralyzing pain… Mouth sores that’ll make eating impossible. Fatigue that makes me wish I wasn’t awake. Your arms started to tremble, your leg bouncing more and more without your knowing. Vomiting up my meals, the malnutrition. the depression... I can’t escape it.. More and more thoughts flood your head, capturing all your attention.  You don't notice Law look at you in concern, opening his mouth to say your name.

You shoot out of your seat, knocking it to the floor.

“I need to go.” You rush to the door. I need to leave this room, this world, I need to go, I need to go back!

Home....

 You don't think as your legs move on their own. They're rushing you out of the room. But before you can even get to the door, Law is there. He has a hand on it, preventing you from leaving. 

“Hey-” He tried to reason with you but you weren’t having it. 

“No, please just stop.” You were shaking at this point. Pain was creeping back into your guts, expanding them, filling you with dread. You can feel your face grow paler, accompanied by patches of hot skin. “I-I need to leave.” 

“No.” Law’s gaze hardened as did his voice. His eyes scan your appearance, studying you. You hate it.

"Stop looking at me!"

“You need to tell me what’s wrong with you!”

“What’s wrong is that fact that it took me 3 years to finally get a handle on my last flare up!" Panicked words were bubbling up faster than you could suppress them. "And now all that work was for nothing because I’m relapsing!” Tears were streaming down your face. The pain was unbearable and you squeeze your eyes shut. Your shaky legs were barely holding you up even though you wanted nothing more than to collapse.

You were so happy and so healthy for the first time in so long. This couldn’t end. This couldn’t be the end!

“Let me help you.” Law insisted. His hands brush against your elbows and you snap backwards. Your knuckles were white from how hard you onto your arms. You looked like you were holding yourself up.

“You can’t-” 

“How do you know that?” He demanded. He had been doing a remarkable job holding back his emotions but they were starting to spill out too. “You won’t even let me try?!”

“You think you're the first person who wanted to try and fix me?!” The tears in your eyes made if hard to see him. “I got worse with my last doctor! And talking about all of this just reminds me of all the hell that is awaiting me because I've skipped too many doses!” Your body wracks hysterically. You lean again the wall to help you stand as pain ravages your guts. You don’t notice how Law is in front of you again until he gently grabs your hands. He lets them tremble in his.

You can't find it in yourself to stop. “For 3 years nothing worked and now I have something that works and it is about to be ruined because I’m missing too many doses because I’m in One Piece. The best thing I can do for myself is go home! I hav- I have to…” Finally, after holding all it in for so long, you break down into incoherent sobs. Law lowers your head onto his shoulder as you sob uncontrollably. He doesn't say anything. He just holds you against him, supporting you with everything he's got.

You hunch inwards, crying even harder as your insides twist in agony.

You know from much too much experience that once it starts, you can't do anything to make them better. You just had to wait the pain out.

Pathetic cries come from you as you think I can't believe I'm relapsing.

….

It takes so long for you to calm down. The pain subsided after a while but you were still crying when it did. 

It didn’t matter to Law. He was patient. Neither of you move from your spots. It's only when you let out an almost relieved sigh that he moves to lift your head up. A gentle grasp on your chin has you tilting your head up for him. And a careful look told you he was studying your features again, looking for signs you were in pain. When he didn’t find any he exhaled a sigh. 

You half expect him to spit some sort of sarcastic remark about how dramatic you’re being. But instead he asks: “Can we sit back down?”

You nod weakly and let him guide you back to the chairs. When you sit down you don’t look at him. 

But you know he’s looking at you. But he doesn't say anything. Maybe he didn't know what to say. You wouldn't blame him.

It was quiet for a long time. Just the sound of your hiccups and sniffles. 

Until finally… 

“I had a terminal illness when I was a kid.” He broke the silence. He caught your attention with that. Your eyes slid over to him, eyebrows knitted together in worry. “It didn’t really get bad until I was a teenager. But by the time I was 10 I knew I was going to die. And when the symptoms finally showed I just knew that my life was over.” His gaze was heavy and his usually sardonic smile held so much sadness in it. “I can still remember the pain. I felt like my body would give out at any moment. Everything hurt.” As he spoke his hand drifted to his chest.

He continued. “I had come to terms with my death. But... There was someone who didn’t. And that someone saved my life.” When he looks back at you his eyes brighten a little. He brings his hand to the back of your neck and pulls you forward until your forehead rests on his. “I’m not giving up on you. I know you’ve felt it too, that your life is over before it could begin. It’s not. I promise you.” 

You didn’t know what to say. 

“How.. How are you alive?” You couldn't help but ask. If his disease is terminal... He gives you a smirk. 

“I’m not lying when I tell you I’m a really good doctor.” You’re taken aback. “Is your illness terminal?” He asks and you feel his thumb draw circles on your neck. It's so calming you almost forget to answer his question.

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of anyone dying because of it.” You speak truthfully. “But it could ruin my intestines and cause them to stop working…And...” The tears start to return. Oh god… 

“It’s alright,” He whispers. “That’s not going to happen.” 

“How do you know?” 

“Because I’m going to help you. I thought that was obvious.” He laughs lightly. 

"Oh... Right." For the first time since he first sat you down, you smile.

“Do we…” You sniffed as another question popped up in your head. “Do we even have the same medical knowledge? O-or vocabulary?” Law tilted his head against yours.��

“What do you mean?” 

“Well... Do you remember when I said I was from a whole 'nother dimension?”

A scoff escapes from his lips. “How can I forget?” 

“Yea so… Doesn’t that mean we have different knowledge?” You leaned back out of his reach, raising your arms. “Our worlds have such different histories. That means we have different medical history right? What if I tell you and you don’t even understand?” 

“We’ll never know if you don’t tell me anything.” He gave a small smirk that was borderline infuriating. But you couldn't find it in yourself to be mad. You let out an exhausted sigh but nod. 

“...Ok. I’ll talk.” Law gives a genuine smile and gets up to grab his notepad. When he sits down again you have his full attention. 

Here we go.

It takes some time to explain your situation. You explain the name, the symptoms. You watch helplessly as Law writes down what you’re saying. 

“Are these episodes you’ve been having today normal?”

“Only when I’m flaring up. That’s the abdominal pain. It feels like something is expanding in my guts, past their limits.” 

“How do you treat your condition?” 

“With medicine.” Medicine that I am more than certain doesn’t exist here. “Every 14 days I take 80 mg over 0.8 ml of Humira or Adalimumab. It’s an injection that goes either into your thighs or your stomach.” As you recite the information you're painfully aware of how it had been since your last Humira shot. Law picks up on this but doesn’t state the obvious that you’ve been on his ship for over 4 weeks. Your leg starts bouncing again.

Law doesn't look up from his writing but says calmly "You have nothing to fear."

Your leg bounces less after hearing that. And a smile grows on his face.

When Law finishes writing you have to ask: “Did you understand anything that I said?”

“Pretty much. I mean your disease is called something else over here. But there is documentation about these symptoms in our world.” He smirked as he glances to you. “And you thought I wouldn't be able to be help.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. 

“Wait.." You pause, taking in his words. "You think you can actually help?” Law scoffs.

“I’m pretty offended you thought I couldn’t. Do you really think so little of me?” You shrugged. 

“I’ve gone through many doctors, captain. You aren’t the first person to act like you could be my savior.” He rolled his eyes and studied his notes again. 

“You mentioned not having control over your illness for 3 years. Was that when you were diagnosed?” 

For some reason that question startles you. “No, that was just when it last flared up. I've been diganosed since I was a teenager.” Law looked like his heart dropped as he looked back at you. 

“How old were you?

“13.” You try to answer as if this wasn’t the most tragic part of your story. You were just barely a teenager and your whole life got turned upside down in the span of a day. 

You could remember lying in that hospital bed. Your doctor spoke to your parents, using terms he didn’t bother to define for you. 

"Their condition is an autoimmune chronic disease. There is no cure."

It took you a few years to truly understood what that meant.

“... I was 13 when I got rid of my illness.” Law softly spoke up. Your eyes found his.

“Really?”

“Yea.” He sighed heavily. “It’s insane to think that while I was curing myself of my condition, you were just getting yours.” There’s a distant look in his eyes. “But also… How you talk about this speaks to years of experience. I’ve never had a patient tell me their treatment plan in as much detail as you can.” You give a humorless laugh. 

“What a useless skill I have.” 

“Clearly not useless.” Law scoffs lightly. "And this disease. It's a problem with your immune system?"

"Yea. It gets confused and attacks healthy cells, mistaking them for unhealthy ones. I don't know the exact science of it."

“That's fine." He reassures you. "It sounds like you just need an immune system rewrite.” You lift your head up and look at him in confusion. 

“What? To treat it I just need to block some of its functions so it doesn’t go out of control and attack everything.” You ignore the obvious that you don't know how that would work as you look at Law.

“I’m not talking about treatment.” He stands up and pats your head. “I’m talking about curing you.” The words pass through your ears and make you dizzy. 

Cure… Me? I can be cured? 

Law starts to walk away, going to a desk and rummaging through it as you process those words.

"...Why?" You speak up as you gaze in his direction. He turns to look at you.

"Why what?"

"Why are you helping me? Is there a catch or something?" He looks a little perplexed, like he didn't know the answer himself. But in the end he just shrugs.

"It's nice having you on my crew. You can offer insight that no one else can, being from another universe and all."

It felt like there was more to it than that. But you don't push it.

“And you can do it? Just completely rewrite my immune system?” Law just smirked and lifted his eyebrows in a cocky manner. 

“You say our world is what… A series of comic books in your world?” 

“I mean that’s putting it mildly but yea.”

“How far did you get in those comics?” 

“Uh… Punk Hazard?” 

Law laughs lightly and looks at you. “You definitely don’t understand what I can do.” 

Author's Note:

My partner is convinced Law could fix me. So I wrote a roughly 3,249 word one shot about that fantasy. What a nice fantasy that is. Originally wrote this for ao3 but thought it might do well here. Hope you enjoyed this wildly out of character fic. It's my copium :]

#trafalgar law x reader #law x reader

[osakanone]

UPDATE: The Destiel/Supernats aren't taking this well -- explaining my reasoning for the history I gave, and why Destiel is not the big bitch of shipping that it thinks it is

An update to THIS:

"This is just a marketing thing, Gundam is a giant robot show, only men watch it!"

Gundam's fandom is silent majoratively feminine:

"But its not gay, its about giant robots!"

Gundam is very gay. The entire climax of the first story is a riff of Yukio Mishima lmao

The climax of the Amuro/Char arc of Universal Century Gundam (expounding from first Gundam circa 1979), Char's Counterattack is somewhat on the history of Japanese disillusion with liberalism which notably climaxed with the life and history of Yukio Mishima.

You know. THAT Yukio Mishima.

The one who wrote FORBIDDEN COLOURS.

It was so gay that the fanfiction inspired by it became its own damn anime:

And that's just Charmuro, let alone Charma or a billion other ships just in OG Gundam alone.

We've got This is before we get to Guin Sard Lineford and Yamagi Glimerton (both verrrrry gay), Tieria Erde (a genderqueer trans-coded character who transcends gender entirely in their arc) and a bunch of others.

Gundam was always gay.

"I don't see the numbers"

"That doesn't seem like much, Supernat is at least 2x this"

Sooooo the amount of content you do see isn't representative of how much even got written, given FFN had a huge content purge.

First, let's start with the relative proportion of users: If we're analysing the concept of fandom, we first have to look at who had access to the internet in the first place to publish works.

Yeah that's a pretty sizable difference.

Wing's fandom actually exploded in 2000, but got capped VERY early, distributing itself to fansites when FFN fragmented and collapsed.

Why?

Content purges!

"Isn't there some sort of online archive of this stuff?"

Sure, if you wanna dig through tons and tons of Angelfire and Geocities pages which have mostly disappeared. Otherwise, no! There is no archive of this stuff?

"Why?"

They've since rolled back on this but it means there's a massive amount of lost media out there, including the discussions on it and thus there's an entire history you didn't get to experience.

Its actually very difficult to reach people who've been involved, since it was so long ago that very few people remember, and a sizable proportion of that population have actually died.

"But what about SF fandoms? We have ancient records of stuff like Spirk!"

See unlike physical media like zines, when a server goes offline or there's a data-loss, or something like that there is no surviving copy of the thing in question.

The net result is we have this weird hole where content just vanished, and its now considered lost media. The work of many artists, designers, writers, even videos of events are just lost media because we didn't have the archival mentality adults develop.

You're not gonna hear about all the X-Files stuff or Frasier fanfictions or GW stuff because of these purges and the lack of physical media. FFN users were teens, not adults with resources like US/EU/JP SF fans, who had archival tendencies due to their long history.

So there is this supermassive black-hole in the history of fanfiction running between 1998, and 2008 and some of the only evidence of it are worksafe works and fansites which the owners have long since forgotten about because folks moved on. Moving on is a normal part of fandom.

So to those of you just saying "supernatural is losing to a pair of dumb anime girls" or "urgh this is just a trend tumblr will get over it and go back to supernatural"...

Uhhhhh no they won't, actually?

Supernat's fans mostly seem to be waspy Americans. Gundam is kind of a global phenomenon, one which has traditionally had a silent majority female audience, a vocal minority male audience -- and every time that majority has spoken up, its coincided with a content purge, or a TOS change that mysteriously biases American derived fiction over Japanese derived fiction.

Funny that.

tl;dr:

NATURE IS HEALING

#witch from mercury #supernatural #destiel #g witch

[theplaid-wearingmoose]

The Suit Stays On~Miguel O'Hara x Reader smut~

Inspired by this post

Being in a relationship with Spiderman was the best thing that ever happened to you. Only thing was you had to keep it to yourself. But you wanted to talk with someone about it. One thing led to another and here you were scrolling on tumblr reading smut fic after smut fic of your man. You had to admit, it was pretty sexy. The writers didn't know his name or yours, of course. But reading about Spiderman picking up "Y/N" with his super strong arms and taking her against the closest wall or webbing her up and having his way with her, leaving the suit on during sex, all had you wet and craving something you never thought to ask Miguel for in the bedroom: Spiderman roleplay.

You'd been so obsessed with the fanfictions, you'd turned on notifications for your favorite authors and for the "Spiderman x reader" tag. You were watching Miguel on the tv as the news covered him taking on the bad guy of the week. Some anomaly refusing to go back to their own dimension. Miguel handled it quickly as usual and less than an hour later he was in your apartment, showering while you were in the kitchen. As he got out, he could hear your phone buzzing on the bed. It was going off repeatedly. Normally he would just ignore it, probably emails from work or something, but this was constant. Every few minutes your phone would go off. Rolling his eyes, he sighed heavily and strolled over to the bed. He grabbed your phone and unlocked it to mute your notifications, when he noticed the "t" icon at the top of your phone. Multiple t's began to appear as the tag updated with more fics. Curiosity got the better of him and he pulled down the header to see what was so important. His eyes widened as he saw the first notification, "Spiderman NSFW headcannons". "What the hell is a headcannon?" He murmured to himself, unable to stop himself from pressing it.

Your phone opened your tumblr app to the Spiderman tag and Miguel was bombarded with pictures of himself (well, Spiderman) drawn in some interesting ways, as well as hundreds of stories about him. Fanfictions about Spiderman saving a girl then having sex with her, Spiderman with a Villain!Reader, Spiderman getting kinky with the webbing. It went on and on. Miguel was shocked by how many people fantasized about Spiderman. He actually thought he was rather unpopular. Is this what you were into? Why hadn't you come to him with your fantasy? He'd be more than happy to indulge you in some roleplay. And what was better than having the actual Spiderman there for your fantasy? He swiped over to your profile and found your "Likes" sections. He quickly read through the top few stories, ideas buzzing through his head.

"Miguel! Your food is ready!" You called, your voice snapping him out of his focus on your phone. He was hungry but the idea of you being aroused by his alter ego created a different kind of hunger in him. He wanted to take you in all kinds of ways. He needed to see you beg for him in his spidersuit. He needed to do this right.

With a couple taps on his watch Miguel's suit digitally reappeared on his body. He extended his talons and jumped up, hooking himself to the ceiling, and headed towards the kitchen. Your apartment was nice enough to have a higher ceiling so he could sneak above you without you noticing. He was used to creeping up on bad guys like this but it felt different doing it to you. Like you were unsuspecting prey just for him, the strong predator, to pounce on and devour. You were just below him now, completely unaware of your surroundings because of your earbuds. He watched you for a moment as your served up plates for the two of you, humming softly and swinging your hips to the music playing in your ears. He held back a moan as he watched your ass sway side to side in those shorts. He could feel the predator instinct in him kick into a higher gear and his fangs began to extend on their own, his mouth watering at the thought of webbing you up and taking you right here on the ceiling.

He shook his head, clearing his mind. He'd have plenty of time for that. He didn't want to rush this. He descended slowly on a web behind you, his head level with the back of yours as he hung upside down. You pulled out one of your earbuds to call for him again. "Migue-AAH!" You screamed as your turned and came face to face with the red and blue mask, eyes staring intently at you through it. "Jesus! What the hell are you doing?!" You shouted, clutching your chest. Miguel laughed. "Is that how you talk to the guy that just rescued you, hermosa?" You looked at him, confused. "Huh?" "What happened to 'thank you'? I even saved your cellphone...lots of interesting notifications you have on there, hermosa." Miguel replied, waving your cellphone in front of you. The eyes on his masked shifted into a knowing look and your own widened as you realized what he meant. Your face heated up in embarrassment but Miguel being on board for the roleplay, initiating it even, had you so wet and you weren't about to pass this up.

"Th-thank you, Spiderman, for saving me. How can I ever repay you?" He beckoned you forward with his finger. "How about a kiss?" He suggested. Biting your lip, you slowly ran your hands up to the base of his mask and peeled it slowly down his face, stopping just on the bridge of his nose. You gently pressed your lips to his and hummed dreamily against him. Miguel let out a low groan as you sucked on his bottom lip. Your thumb brushed his cheek as you held his face and Miguel could feel his resolve to take his time wavering. You pulled away from him much sooner than he would've liked but it was all part of the character you were playing. The shy, naive girl flustered from being saved by her superhero crush.

You stepped back after pulling his mask back over his face, shyly rubbing your arm and avoiding his gaze. He flipped down from his web, towering over you as he stood to his full height. "I don't think you're done repaying me yet, princesa." He murmured. "W-what else do you want?" You asked, anticipation buzzing through you. He tilted his head to one side as if examining you. "I have a few ideas".

~~~~~~

You had no idea that when you started this, you'd be laying strapped in a giant web on the corner of your living room ceiling, your clothes torn and dangling below you, while Miguel crawled menacingly towards your dripping pussy. "You look so beautiful like this, hermosa. I think I should keep you like this for a while. That way I can keep you safe. You wouldn't want to run into anymore danger, would you?" Your response was cut off with a moan as Miguel licked a long stripe up your pussy. You cried out and tugged against your restraints as his tongue flicked up and down your clit. His strong hands held your legs open and his lips wrapped around your clit making your head spin from the pleasure. Pulling away with a sucking pop, he smirked at you, his sharp fangs visible in his grin. "Answer me, muñeca." He demanded, his deep voice rumbling in your ear, making you clench around nothing.

"N-no Spiderman...I-I don't want to get into trouble again." Miguel hummed in approval and began to rub your clit in slow circles. "You need me to protect you, don't you, baby? You're just too sweet to be wandering the streets alone. It's not safe." Biting your lip to stifle your moans, you nodded quickly. Miguel's fingers worked skillfully over you, dipping inside you a few times before returning to your clit and then back again. "Tell me you need me to keep you safe, baby. I wanna hear you." Miguel growled. "Y-yes! Oh f-fuck yes! Please Spiderman..I-I need you. N-need you to keep me -ah! s-safe. Oh fuck please Spiderman...need you so bad!" You whined, Miguel's fingers speeding up inside you.

"You're so pretty when you beg, hermosa. You'll let me fuck you like this, won't you? Dirty girl..letting your hero take you any way I want. So fucking naughty.."

Miguel climbed on top of you, your legs wrapping around his waist. He retracted just enough of his suit to free his large, hard cock. Stroking it a couple times, he looked down at you, his mask returning to cover the rest of his face. "Estás lista, cariño?" You nodded again, too aroused to answer respond. Miguel gripped your hips in his large hands and pushed into you slowly. "The room was filled with loud moaning from the two of you. Miguel leaned down next to your ear. "I'm not going to be gentle, princesa." He warned. You whimpered and bucked your hips up into his. "Please fuck me, Spiderman. I want you inside me!" You whined.

Miguel began to set a brutal pace. The sound of his hips snapping against yours filled the room, along your cries of pleasure. Your hands clenched at the web restraining you, your fingers aching from how tight you were squeezing. His head fell down onto your shoulder, his panting and groaning filled your ears. "Oh fuuuuck yes! You feel so fucking good!" You moaned, clenching around Miguel tightly. "You're gonna make me -fuck...cum if you keep talking like that, baby." He groaned. "Please cum inside me, Spiderman. Fill me up...I wanna feel it dripping out of me!" You begged. Miguel choked out a moan and gripped your hips tightly. The web shook as Miguel slammed into you over and over again.

"Want me to fill you up, bebita? Want me to put a baby in you?"

"Oh my god please, Spiderman. Give it to me! I want it so bad!" You screamed, your orgasm hitting you suddenly, soaking Miguel's cock. His orgasm followed not too far behind. You were certain bruises were forming on your hips from how hard he was squeezing you as came. His hot seed spilled inside you, coating your insides. Miguel rocked his hips against you as he came down from his orgasm. The two of were breathing heavily and Miguel collapsed beside you, digitally removing his mask from his face. He leaned over and pressed kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

"Was that okay, mi vida?" He asked, his previous cockiness lost when he dropped character and replaced with a bit of nervousness that he didn't live up to the online fantasies.

You hummed happily and once he released your hands, moved over to rest your head on his chest. "Definitely more than okay. That was amazing." You sighed. Miguel smiled to himself and kissed the top of your head. "I didn't mean to go through your tumblr. Your phone kept going off and I guess curiosity got to me. Why didn't you tell me you had a thing for me in my Spidersuit?" "I didn't want you to think it was weird I guess. Or that I only loved you cause you're a superhero. I loved Miguel before I loved Spiderman. The suit just adds to the sexiness." You replied. Miguel laughed loudly and pulled you closer. "Gracias, hermosa. I'll make sure the news cameras get my good angles next time they're covering me fighting someone." You rolled your eyes playfully and kissed him.

"And don't worry I've got way more ideas for us to try, Spiderman."

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel x reader #spiderman x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o hara x reader smut #atsv miguel #spiderman x reader smut

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles Leclerc

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 11/? Word count: 3089 Co writer: @mistrose23

Summary: This was Matilde Jørgensen, the newly appointed team principal of Scuderia Ferrari, about to face one of the most nerve-wracking challenges of her life. She tried to save the team from more disappointing results and put everything on the line to make them world champion again. There will be a big challenge to lead a historic team as 'newbie' and keeping her work and personal opinions apart from each other. The big question everybody will be asking: is she capable to do so?

Chapter 9. Night Guards

The Ferrari Factory was cloaked in darkness as Matilde's car glided to a halt in the parking lot. The moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the iconic factory campus.

With a sigh and a hint of exhaustion, she stepped out of her car. Nerves travelled through her body. After last weekend's situation, she wasn't sure if she wanted to continue her role at Ferrari. However, it didn't feel right to drop everything and leave after only five races. She grabbed her bag from the backseat and locked her car, walking towards the entrance. The factory grounds were quiet at this hour, devoid of the usual hustle and bustle that defined the daylight hours. The parking lot, which was typically teeming with cars and personnel, now held just a handful of vehicles.

Instead of entering the office building, she entered the factory building. She scanned her pass and got in. Matilde exchanged greetings with the guard, who was happy to see her. The man congratulated the woman on the win, and they shared a few words about the race weekend.

After a quick security check, she continued her way to the canteen. Matilde just started to get to know this building. She ran her hand through her hair and yawned. Even though she was still living in the American time zone, she was getting tired because of the darkness outside.

"You are a real warrior," Mario, the manager of the night shift, said when Matilde entered the canteen. The entire night crew looked at the team principal, who was standing in front of them. "I didn't receive a cancellation, but we didn't expect you to still show up for the night shift."

Matilde scanned every person in the room, waiting for their reaction. Would they react the same as the racetrack team? She didn't know it anymore, she didn't know who was genuine and who wasn't.

"You just had a race in America and you are already here," Angelo added, a mechanic.

Everyone looked surprised to see Matilde, but they looked grateful at the presence of the woman. They all were drinking tea or coffee, preparing for their long night at the factory.

A fragile smile came on Matilde's face. "When I say I will be there, I will be there," she said. "I'm still in the American time zone; I will be up all night anyway. Might spend it here as well."

"Well, in that case," Mario said and got up. He made his way to the fridge and took out a white box. "Unfortunately, we cannot pop the champagne now," he said and put the box on the table. "But we can celebrate it with cake." Mario opened the box.

Matilde looked at the cake, and her lips parted. Tears flowed into her eyes when she read the text on the cream. 'Congratulations on your first win!' She looked up and glanced at Mario and then at the team. "Guys..."

"Congratulations, Matilde!"

"Your first win will always be special. We sadly couldn't be in Miami to celebrate it with you, but we will celebrate it with you now," Mario proudly smiled. "It was a perfect weekend for the team, and we couldn't be more proud of everyone."

Appreciation, that was the thing she missed during the entire weekend. How come the track team didn't even bother to ask her to join the celebration, and the night team came up with a celebration themselves? "Thank you," Matilde said. "Thank you for all your hard work, we couldn't wish for a better weekend, and that is because of your dedication and work. Grazie a tutti," she widely smiled. "Grazie ragazzi."

The night team beamed with pride as Matilde expressed her gratitude. Their cheers and applause filled the canteen, breaking the silence of the late-night hour. It was a heartfelt celebration, a sign of the strong bond that existed between the night shift team and their team principal.

Matilde's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she looked around at her colleagues. These were the unsung heroes of Ferrari, the ones who toiled through the night to ensure that every detail of the F1 operation was flawless. And they cared about everyone within the team. These were the people who kept the operation going.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Matilde approached the cake. She took a knife and began cutting slices for everyone in the canteen. The cake, a symbol of their shared achievement, was quickly devoured as the team was insulted by this midnight treat.

"So, tell us, how was this weekend?" Mario asked curiously.

Matilde shared her experiences with the people. She told about the great teamwork, the problems that were quickly solved and how everything felt like they bonded. Matilde had shared before that things weren't going smoothly within the track team, but she proudly told how things changed this weekend. Due to her professionalism, she decided not to share the moment that broke her heart. It was something she had to deal with, she didn't want to ruin their view on the rest of the team.

"And the celebrations?" Angelo asked. "Huge dinner party?"

The team principal nodded. "Yup." Her eyes met the eyes of a mechanic who was also part of the track team, who was also picking up night shifts every now and then. "It was fun." Matilde was hoping that the mechanic wouldn't ruin her reputation within this crew.

A mechanic scoffed. "Fun for the team, yes."

Her hope sank. Matilde's face straightened, and she swallowed hard. She looked down and waited for the rest of his response.

"We had a fun dinner, indeed. Until something happened," the mechanic continued. Everyone looked at him while he looked at Matilde, who was clearly feeling uncomfortable. "It turned out that our people didn't even bother to invite Matilde to the celebration dinner."

Matilde felt a mixture of surprise and trepidation as the mechanic continued to speak. She had hoped that the incident wouldn't come to light during the night shift. As the mechanic's words hung in the air, there was a moment of tense silence. Matilde could feel the eyes of the night shift team on her, assessing her reaction.

"Yes, it is true," she began, her voice steady. "There was an incident at the celebratory dinner. It wasn't the way I had hoped the evening would go. But let's not dwell on that. What matters is that we had a fantastic race weekend, and the team's performance was exceptional." She shifted the focus away from the negative moment, choosing to highlight the success. It was a delicate balance between acknowledging the issue and steering the conversation toward more positive aspects.

"Why was she not invited?" A woman blurted towards the mechanic of the track team. "How dare you say that in front of her? This is straight-up bullying!"

The eyes of the mechanic shot up to the woman. "Hey, I am not saying this to make her feel more bad; I'm saying this because what happened was not classy from our side. I had heard that Matilde couldn't be there, multiple people asked where she was, and everyone said she couldn't be there. But that wasn't true, no one invited her. And I didn't know that," he defended himself, but also Matilde. Ever since he found out that no one had invited her on purpose, he felt extremely bad about it. "The team principal always joins the celebration dinner."

Eyes shot to Matilde, who looked hurt. "I was told no one was celebrating it because of the early flight the next morning," she replied. "I was with Red Bull because my best friend works at Red Bull, and it's my old team. And my flight was leaving in the late afternoon the next day. I wanted to celebrate it," she defended herself.

Silence fell in the canteen.

"But the champagne move... Legendary," the mechanic said. "How did you dare to do that?"

"What exactly did she do?" Mario asked. He looked at Matilde. "What did you do?"

The mechanic smirked. "At some point, we all got served a glass of champagne, telling us we got the compliments from our team principal."

"How did you know that they were there?" Angelo asked Matilde.

"Apparently, I was in the same restaurant," Matilde replied. "Leclerc texted me, asking where I was, and at that moment, I saw the entire team sitting in the back of the restaurant. I already downed two shots, and I had some champagne in my system, so I don't know what I was thinking."

Chuckles and giggles filled the canteen, causing Matilde to smile lightly. Did this mean that Matilde could feel relieved?

"This is a boss ass bitch move; I love it," a young woman said, who sat in the corner of the room. "As you should, Matilde. Show them how shitty they acted. Own it."

Angelo laughed. "I must say, it's not very professional, but I would absolutely do the same if I were you in that situation. Whoever thought that it was okay not to invite you, should get fired."

"Don't give her ideas," Mario said. He thought the situation was funny because of the reaction of Matilde, but he noticed the situation was hurting her and how she lost the trust in her team. When she entered the canteen, she reacted differently. Now he understood why. It was everything but classy for his colleagues to treat her like that. "It sounds like there was a misunderstanding, Matilde. Maybe the message got lost somewhere along the way."

The woman who had spoken up earlier took a deep breath and spoke again, her voice filled with empathy. "But that doesn't excuse the fact that we should have ensured you were included."

"It isn't your fault, Valentina," Matilde responded. "You weren't there."

"But it is our team; they are our colleagues."

"I really appreciate that. Miscommunications happen, and yeah, so be it. I will pick it up tomorrow. I was in my fault, they were in their fault, and we have to talk about it." She acted like it didn't bother her that much, but the fact that these people supported her more than the people she worked with on a daily base...

"I don't like those people anyway," the young woman said. "They all act like they are better than us; meanwhile, they are taking our credits."

"Don't mind Stella. She says what we are all thinking, but we keep it in front of us, and she doesn't," Angelo replied and looked disapprovingly at her.

Matilde politely smiled at the crew. She made eye contact with the mechanic, who stood up for her. She gave him a grateful nod, which he returned with a smile and a wink. "Anyway, thank you all for your concern, but it happened; it's in the past. Let's move forward," she said, hoping the moment would pass. "And this is told in confidence. So whatever is said here, stays here. Unless you think it is inappropriate, then you know where to find the board, and I will happily have a conversation about it." She realised she had lost the authority, she didn't like authority, but she was the team principal after all.

As the night shift began, Matilde felt a warmth in her heart that transcended the exhaustion of her long journey from Miami. She was there for them, and they were there for her.

Throughout the night, Matilde worked alongside her night shift team. They discussed strategies, reviewed data and ensured that every aspect of the past race and upcoming race was discussed. Matilde picked up some office tasks, preparing for the upcoming week with briefings and meetings.

* * *

The next day, the Ferrari office was bustling with activity. The race track team got back to work after their days off after the weekend. The team had gathered for a small inauguration ceremony, a celebration of Carlos and Charles' impressive performances during the previous race weekend in Miami. It was an opportunity to recognize their achievements and boost team morale.

As the team members gathered in the massive hall of the office, there was a palpable sense of excitement in the air. Colleagues chatted, sharing their pride in the team's success.

Charles and Carlos were standing in the room next to the hall, waiting for the ceremony to start.

"Matilde will be here, too, right?" Carlos asked Charles after not having spotted the team principal. She usually was present before everyone else was at the office.

"I don't know." A frown grew on Charles' forehead. "I saw on Instagram that she was in Denmark, for her mum's birthday or something. Perhaps she's still there."

"Weird," Carlos replied.

"But maybe she's on her way."

Finally, the double doors at the hall swung open. Charles and Carlos stepped into the room, greeted by applause and cheers from their colleagues. Their smiles radiated the joy of the moment. They waved at their team.

"Ladies and gentlemen, colleagues and friends, today we gather to celebrate the remarkable achievements of our drivers: Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz!" The spokesperson of Ferrari took the task of leading this ceremony. "What a race, boys. Congratulations."

The room erupted in applause again, and Charles and Carlos exchanged smiles. However, when the ceremony continued, Charles and Carlos missed the presence of one person. Carlos was asked to say something about the weekend. It gave Charles the chance to scan the hall once again. There was still no sign of Matilde. It worried him. Did this have to do with Sunday? He still hadn't had the chance to speak with her about what had happened, as he felt extremely bad about it, but had she given up already? Charles thought about the situation a lot, and he wondered if he could have prevented it.

The sliding doors of the entrance opened. Charles' eyes shot to the person who had entered the building. He watched how she entered the building and went through security. It looked like she had no idea what was going on. The woman was wearing grey trousers and a blue, oversized button-up shirt, her hair in a low bun. She was carrying two bags and a coat. Once she entered the hall, she came to a halt. Her eyes scanned the hall.

A sense of guilt washed over Charles as their eyes met. He pursed his lips tightly, seeing the emotions written all over her face. Her expression changed from surprise to pain. Her face told stories. Then her face showed a clear message that she didn't want anyone's pity or sympathy. A few other people noticed Matilde's presence as well, being shocked to see her.

Matilde walked towards the podium, between all the people. Anger was playing a huge role in her emotions right now, but she had to ignore it and show who the team principal was. Her eyes met Galileo's, who was standing next to the podium. His eyes widened. Matilde ignored him and dumped her stuff on the ground, next to the podium. She stepped on the podium and stood next to Charles, wearing a professional smile, but her eyes showed a bitchy look. If you were standing close by, you would notice it.

Carlos ended this speech and looked at the spokesperson. His eyes fell on Matilde, who shared a smile. He smiled back, being relieved she indeed was on her way when they were waiting at the beginning.

The spokesperson looked at Matilde. "Well, once again: thank you all for being here," he said. "Matilde, good to have you here as well."

"I was not aware of this celebration," she mumbled under her breath, not knowing Charles heard her. Matilde looked at Galileo; she would have a word with him afterwards.

"Charles, we will go to you in a second, but first, a word from Matilde."

Charles handed the microphone over to the woman next to him.

A smile rested on her face. Over the weeks, she realised how good she became at acting and putting on fake smiles. "Of course, Carlos, outstanding work. It was a faultless race from your side, an almost faultless race on our side. We had an issue, but we managed to fix it in time, so I consider it a faultless race," she said and looked at Carlos. She moved her gaze to Charles. "Charles, your outstanding performances made us all proud. The way you fought with the Red Bulls and defended was just brilliant." Matilde turned to the people in front of the podium. "And you! Each and every one of you is also the reason why the team won. If you were at the track, at the factory or at home, because of you, we put out an amazing performance. It's not just about the victory, but also about the teamwork and determination of everyone. Well done, everyone. Keep up the good work." She handed the microphone to Charles.

"I agree with everything that Matilde just said," he said and chuckled. "We couldn't have done it without the dedication and hard work of every person in this room. This win is yours as much as it is ours."

The hall burst into applause again. Matilde joined in the clapping, showing that she was there for the team. Even though she had a lot of anger in her body, she recognised this moment of unity and celebration, a reminder of what they achieved together, and what they could achieve together in the future.

After the speeches, the team mingled, sharing stories and congratulations. Charles, Carlos and Matilde posed for photos with their colleagues, holding their trophies proudly. The first celebration of the season and as a team with a new team principal were enjoyed, suddenly there were no tensions left.

Matilde stepped down the stage and collected her stuff. It was not even nine hours after the end of the night shift; she wasn't even supposed to be here for another two hours. She walked away from the celebrations, and she wanted to leave the hall, until someone stopped her.

"We have a board meeting scheduled."

Another thing she wasn't aware of. Matilde smiled. "I will be there," she said. She was open to attending the meeting two hours before she was allowed to start working again. "After I have spoken to my assistant."

"Everyone is waiting for you."

"I will be there," she repeated, taking a second to make clear that she would be there. "After I have seen my assistant," she said, looking the man in the eyes, giving him a stern nod and walked away. 

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc #fanfic #carlos sainz #max verstappen #kevin magnussen #ferrari #scuderia ferrari #motorsports

[kwanisms]

I cannot that believe in this, the year of our lord & savior Boo Seungkwan, that I have to be making this post.

STOP. REPOSTING. OUR WORKS.

Most, if not all, of the writers I follow and am friends with DO NOT ALLOW REPOSTING. On my blog, you have to pass three posts that tell you not to repost, translate, or continue my works. It's also posted at the top of every one-shot, chapter, timestamp, and drabble. It's on all of my masterlists. It's on all of my masterposts. It's everywhere except in my description. Do not repost my work. Do not repost my writing. Do not repost my graphics. Do not repost anything on my blog that has that funky little C with the circle around it. ©️ Stop taking my intellectual property and posting it without my permission. I don't care if you credit me. You didn't ask and even if you did, I still don't allow it. That's 70k views, reblogs, and comments I'm missing out on cause you stole something that didn't belong to you. And your cute little note at the end telling the readers to visit my blog and "show them some love uwu" isn't going to encourage them to do so and you know it.

If I have to keep saying this shit, I'm just going to stop posting altogether. I'm sick of this shit happening to me, to my friends, and to everyone else on this site. We work hard on these stories. They don't just fall out of the sky or come out of our asses. Some of these stories have taken literal years for us to write. I just finished a sequel to a piece I wrote four fucking years ago and it's sitting at just over 18k. 18 thousand words. 18,000. Let that sink in. It's not easy to write that much. Hell, it's taken me 4 years to complete the damned thing. Four. Years. Not days. Not weeks. Not months. But YEARS. And it's incredibly disheartening when something that took me a long time is just copied and pasted to another website without my knowledge or permission.

Make your own fucking content and stop taking ours.

And on that note; STOP FUCKING STEALING GIFS, TOO.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. ✌🏻

#i cannot believe were still telling people to stop #and even saying not to repost on every post doesnt work #one day... yall are gonna learn #when there are no longer any stories because youve driven away all the writer's. #youll learn then #{ rant post } #{ booki rants } #adding some more tags so other writers can reblog if they want #which btw THIS IS OKAY TO REBLOG #i encourage it #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfiction #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt fanfiction #sorry for clogging the tags but i want people to share this

[dorian-winter]

Unpublished conversation from my ff

#this is what Izuku and Katsuki talk about at Izuku's desk when they were in middle school #this is how it started #fanfiction #writing #ff #ao3 #bakudeku #angst #fluff #writers blog #writersblr #I wont even lie its inspired by that one tiktok sound lol #runaway ao3

[vulpinesaint]

i need to write more fanfiction this whole comments thing is awesome

#^ worm that has been whispering in my ear since that one fic of mine got relatively popular freshman year #never let my cool demeanor fool you. i am always writing fanfiction for the attention #you can tell which ones are the labors of love cause they are extremely long and they have like no comments 😭 #and obviously the ones that are for attention. well. they get the attention they were made to get lmao #'bracken you're such a good writer' yeah i know. i've been using it to farm online validation for years #the downside to this is that i have to write romance when i do this unless i'm Really on top of writing smth for a fandom... #missed the window where aro crowley fic would've gotten attention sheerly for the amnt of people in the ao3 tag for sure haha #few of my geralt + ciri fics have gotten in before that window closed though which is nice :) #anyway i also need to write original fiction. but this is a problem for another day #valentine notes #fanfic

[jackgoodfellow]

I've been viewing your Red Dwarf Pokemon AU and I love it. I just have a question: In that Universe, are Simulants and GELFs the same as in the original universe, or is it like Cyborg Pokemon and GELFs which are genetically engineered Pokemon (a bit like Mewtwo)?

Omg this is like my second ever ask!!! 😊

Simulants and GELFs are the same as they are in the original universe, but they all have thematically appropriate Pokémon too!

That way there can be Pokémon battles beyond Lister's Snorlax absolutely trouncing Rimmer's Snivy for the 100th time (after Rimmer demands a battle for the 100th time).

In some episodes, they run into Pokémon that are companions to other sentient life forms, and sometimes they run into planets full of wild Pokemon they've never seen before!

Other times, Pokémon on the ship start causing problems:

Lister leaving trash everywhere has resulted in way more Grimer than the ship can sustain and they need to find a trash planet for them to live happily in.

Magnemite have gotten into the ship's engine and are causing increasingly bizarre malfunctions.

A Ditto with sunglasses is out to cause problems by impersonating the ship's crew! Stuff like that!

Every once in a while, they can run into a legendary Pokémon. Which would be hilarious because the boys (with the exception of Kryten) are completely incapable of speaking to a majestic elder god with anything approaching the proper amount of respect!

They do probably run into a Mewtwo (or Mewtwo-like situation) at some point and then they have to deal with an angry super-intelligent, super-powerful, genetically engineered, malevolent Pokémon with major emotional issues.

It'd make for a great multi-part episode or movie special, and I picture it happening shortly before Rimmer goes off to be Ace (whereupon he will achieve the character growth we all deserved to see in canon)!

Early in the special, Lister's kindness is what first plants seeds of doubt about the value of cruelty in the Mewtwo creature's mind.

As the plot progresses, it seems more and more like a heartfelt speech from Lister might solve the whole thing.

But then, Lister is knocked out or temporarily turned into stone during the climax, and it is suddenly up to RIMMER of all people to make a last-ditch appeal to Mewtwo's sense of love and kindness!

("Well! We're doomed!" chirps the Cat, from whatever psychic prison he is stuck in. Kryten, who at this point has been reduced to his eyeballs by a psychic blast, somehow manages to nod in agreement. (But what they don't know is that I, Jack! am the one writing this special! And I am a very specific kind of writer.))

Rimmer looks at the possibly-dead Lister... looks at himself... and then looks at the furious psychic being killing them all...

And he ends up making an impassioned speech about how Lister doesn't deserve this. ("Maybe I do. Maybe even the Cat and Kryten. but not Lister.") About how Lister keeps seeing bits of good in everyone, even Rimmer. Lister even saw good in Mewtwo!

("Please... he's... he's a good man. Yes, he's a disgusting, childish idiot with less brain cells than dead liver cells, but he's a good person. Look into his brain. You have to see that. That has to count for something.")

This is the first time in the series we've seen Rimmer say something nice about Lister. The Cat and Kryten are dumbfounded.

And no one is more surprised than Rimmer that it actually works.

#red dwarf #see jack talk #lister hears about what Rimmer said that day later when rimmer is off being ace and the cat casually mentions it #so much heartache #man remember the holoship episode where rimmer displays a genuine selfless act of kindness for the very first time?? #and how they set up the ace arc to be like an obvious evolution of his character??? #aND THEN THEY JUST #SEASON 8 #ajeowkxjqi dhajflshakdlf 🤬🤬🤬 #still one of my favorite shows but this will drive me slowly to insanity over the course of my life #thank goodness for the fanfiction that actually fleshes out the fucking character #also I hear he's really great in the books though I don't know if they actually finish his character arc at any point #I'll get around to reading those someday #red dwarf Pokémon au #maybe someday I will write a story with characters who remind me of them and I will write this arc the way I wish it was #it wouldn't be the first time #the only drawback is I'll never get the original actors as they were in 1980 or whenever that show started. #but I guess it was never going to be gay back then anyway..... or at least not overtly gay....... or at least not intentionally overtly gay #they did give us that Moonlight speech. that is truly good food. also very fucking gay #anyway i am a good writer and everyone should read my free graphic novel on ao3 byyeeeee #i lied i have more to say: RIMMER ONLY EVER NEEDED SOMEONE TO BELIEVE IN HIM AND HIS CHARACTER WORKS BEST WHEN THIS ACTUALLY WORKS #Lister makes rimmer a better man by believing he can be one. repeatedly. stubbornly. stupidly. against all odds. #Lister never stops believing it. it is a beautiful love story if you know where to look (and what to reject wholesale)

[sugaroto]

Question;

Does anyone know how a vampire could become a human?

#need this information for a fic im working on #i kinda stopped writing it bc i realized i didn't know much about vampires and after a while i wasn't sure what was happening with the plot #but one person had texted me when they saw my tags on a post about the fic cause they were interested in it #and i feel kinda bad i haven't posted anything about it cause i said i would #also it was fun writing it yknow i made a lot of jokes in there #which need to be fixed bc theyre weird #but anyway #i didn't know how to continue after i wasn't sure of where i was going #vampire #aftg #vamps #ao3 #fiction #fanfiction writer #fanfiction help

[rollercoasterwords]

24, 11, 6

<3

6. When did you start reading and writing fic?

ok bear with me i feel like this is like a very weird timeline for getting into fic but

technically my first ever fanfiction was a quizilla wwyff (if literally anyone else remembers quizilla and wwyffs hmu bc sometimes it feels like a fever dream) that i wrote when i was 13 BUT i didn't actually start getting into like...actual fanfiction until i was lik 16/17 and got very into voltron (dark times) and started reading a little bit of fanfiction and writing a self-insert fic that i then abandoned when the show went downhill and i got bored of it lol. and then when i was in my final year of undergrad and home for the holidays losing my mind i read atyd for the first time, but i didn't really read any other fanfic after that, so it was kind of an isolated event. but i also started to rewrite the captive prince series and finished the first two books in the span of like 2-3 months i think and then just slowly chipped away at the last one over like the next 6 months, and i remembered ao3 from my voltron days so i was like might as well post this here in case anyone's interested and then there were like a handful of people reading it and i was like wow this is fun! nice :)

BUT i would say that i didn't actually start to get involved in fanfiction as any sort of community until literally exactly one year ago when i started posting my rewrite of atyd from sirius's pov thinking it would go the same way my captive prince rewrite went, where i was essentially just fucking around having fun getting to stay inside this story for a while and a handful of people would stop by and be like hey nice! and then someone on tiktok posted about it and it blew up all of a sudden like...two or three months after i'd started writing it i think? and so i feel like i kind of got dragged into the marauders fanfic community lmao because that's what led to me like making this blog and stuff. and then i started to get more interested in the marauders fandom generally and started to see people recommending fics so i was like hmmm maybe i'll branch out from atyd and read some other stuff and. well. now here we are a year later.

11. Do you have a comfort fic that you always come back to? What is it?

i mean....atyd i guess lmao. except after sirius's pov i think i've sort of got it out of my system in that i spent like...6 months thinking about it nonstop and so now i cannot imagine re-reading it anytime soon. i'm not really a big re-reader when it comes to fics though, like aside from atyd i don't really think there are any i go back to. except hackery i have reread hackery many many times but i wouldn't call it a comfort fic it's more like the fanfiction equivalent of snorting cocaine when i need inspiration to write

24. If you could go back and talk to yourself in the moments before you posted your first fic, what would you say to past you?

i'd say hey babe ur actually a lesbian <3 also they're going to make shiro gay anyway and the lance x allura thing isn't a joke they're actually following through with it he and keith will never be canon <3 hope this helps <3

this ask game

#oh voltron my old enemy #honestly fanfiction is a very recent development in my life overall in that like #it has become my primary hobby over the course of the past year alone like i was never really a fanfiction reader or writer growing up #truly my first internet writing space was becoming a popular wwyff writer on quizilla at age 12 lmaooo #that was so fun for me the good old days <3 #i'm not kidding when i say if you remember quizilla please hmu #the only person i've ever met who also knows what it was is my ex-best friend #who was my fellow wwyff writer and the one who introduced me to quizilla #and we were like BEST friends like she got my handwriting tattooed on her arm BEST friends #until college when we had an ATROCIOUS falling out #now i haven't spoken to her in five years <3 #all of which is to say i have literally not a single person to reminisce about quzilla history with #very sad for me #ask

[134340am]

(re: my wip list lol)  

i... am literally speechless :-( /pos thank you so much for telling me this 😭

#this is like... my one and only goal lol #when people read my stuff and tell me that it feels warm / soothing / comforting it makes me wanna tear up #because i've read A LOT of fanfiction that's comforted me the same day ; ; #way* #when i was going through Tough Times i always looked forward to going home and #scrolling through my favourite writer's blog and reading their updates and fics #even if they were just talking about the new clothes they bought or a cat they saw... it was all interesting and soothing to me #like having an internet bestie yknow!!! #and it always made my day hehe #(shoutout to tumblr user oilblotter i will love and miss u forever miss obi) #anyways i'm happy n honoured to know i'm ur safe space blog... i will do my best to keep it that way <3 #love u im kissing u on the head #love letters for yuna #fave

[tarabyte3]

Hey fanfiction writers: If no one's ever told you this before, it's not just fanfiction.

It's something you spent hours, days, maybe even months on, pouring your heart out onto a page because you were so full of passion and thoughts about a story or characters, you felt like you were going to explode if you didn't get it out. Maybe you lost sleep because your mind was racing with ideas or you forgot to eat or drink water because you were so focused. Maybe your back aches from being hunched over for so long, unmoving. Maybe you even felt like you were going a little feral because you were so excited about what you were creating, or were frustrated when you got stuck. Either way, you put your heart, mind, soul, and body into making something.

It's okay to want people to read it, and it's okay if you're disappointed that they don't or it doesn't get as much of a reaction as you were hoping for. Humans are social creatures. Sure, we write for ourselves, but we also share because the joy of doing so is just as powerful as the joy of the process. Of having created something.

We all experience that joy and that disappointment, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

So it's okay. It's not just fanfiction.

#writing #fic writing #fanfiction #fanfic #writlbr #just had to get this out there #fanfiction has brought me so much joy for ~25 years now #big thank you to everyone that feels sad about their stuff and still writes anyway #i love you and i appreciate you #and i guarantee i'm not the only one

[impala-dreamer]

Fanfiction is not "Eww... fanfiction".

Fanfiction is comfort after a long day. Fanfiction is hope when things aren't going so well. Fanfiction is exploring your emotions and sexuality in a safe place. Fanfiction is reaching out into a universe to discover things you never knew before. Fanfiction is discovering things about yourself that you were unsure of. Fanfiction is going on adventures. Fanfiction is walking when maybe you cannot. Fanfiction is standing up for yourself when it's hard to do in real life. Fanfiction is having the family you never had, the friends you always wanted, the love and affection you deserve. Fanfiction is letting out your frustrations and anger in a safe place. Fanfiction helps people. Readers and Writers alike.

Fanfiction is not "lesser writing".

Fanfiction is 100k stories about two dudes in a shiny black car. Fanfiction is 47 chapter epic tales about dragons and magic. Fanfiction is short stories that evoke such emotions that leave you crying for hours. Fanfiction is incredible prose that lingers in your mind for years to come.

Fanfiction is not shameful. It is not worthless. It is not just some silly thing kids do.

Fanfiction is beautiful art and no one can take that away from you. If they try, just write them into your next story and beat the hell out of them.

#fanfic #fanfiction #writing #writers #reading #readers #i'm heated lemmetell you something

[joelsgreys]

captive

Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You find yourself missing your captor while he’s out on an early morning hunt with the rest of the group.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. IMPLIED PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION. mentions of Joel’s group murdering reader’s group, it’s implied her family members were also killed, Joel pretty much kidnaps reader and keeps her as his own, stockholm syndrome, reader deals with a lot of very distressing and conflicting feelings, Joel isn’t too creepy or extremely dark, but he is still not a good person, mentions of Tommy. VERY BRIEF SMUT in the form of cockwarming, daddy kink but i didn’t go overboard this time, pet names (honey, baby, babygirl, sweetheart) if i missed anything, you can POLITELY let me know because if i missed anything, it was purely accidental. minimal editing.

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS.

if this isn’t your thing, that’s fine, just scroll on by.

word count: 1.4k

a/n: i might actually throw up idk. i’ve had this itch to try dark joel and seeing as i have major writer’s block with all my other wips i decided to just scratch the itch. this is a little out of my comfort zone but i actually ended up feeling pleased with what i wrote. this is my personal take on dark/raider joel, i’m sure it is very out of character but it’s fanfiction so…yeah. here it is.

It’s the rain that rouses you from your sleep.

It beats down heavily on the remote cabin’s tin roof.

Loud. Much too loud.

You roll over, settling yourself on your side.

The mattress is old, worn, rotting beneath the sheets.

You can’t complain, though. At least you have a bed.

Everybody else is forced to sleep on the hard floor.

He always gets the room with the bed.

As his special girl, that means you always get the room with the bed too.

It’s not quite as flattering as one would believe.

He only ever wants the bedroom for one reason—to keep you behind a locked door so you can’t run.

You sigh softly and stare out the window. He’d secured that too, made certain that it couldn’t be opened from the inside.

Closing your eyes, you try and go back to sleep.

Sleep doesn’t come.

His absence is starting to bother you.

You’ve been with him for an entire season now.

You’re getting used to him.

The sound of his voice. 

The warmth of his body.

The taste of his lips.

You can’t even sleep without him next to you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, clutching the stale sheets, balling them in your fists out of frustration.

How was it possible? How could you be missing him?

He had taken everything from you.

Your family.

Your home. 

Your innocence.

He was holding you captive. He was a monster.

But a monster doesn’t keep you safe.

Doesn’t clothe you.

Doesn’t feed you.

Doesn’t protect you.

He did all of those things and more. 

Is that why you feel so empty without him beside you?

Is that why you’re no longer so certain you would run if you were given the chance to escape him?

You fucking hated him for what he’d done.

Yet here you are, aching for him to come back to you.

It’s another hour before you hear the lock clicking. 

Joel pushes through the door, quietly closing it behind him.

“Y’awake?” he asks, slipping his pack off his shoulders.

“Mhm,” you answer with your back to him. “I am.”

You hear the sound of his pack hitting the floor.

His worn leather boots being kicked off. 

His rifle being set down, propped against the wall.

“How was the hunt?”

You can feel him freeze as he’s taking off his jacket.

Getting you to willingly speak to him had always been a lot like pulling teeth. Difficult, almost impossible.

When he doesn’t respond, you roll over to face him.

There’s a swoop in your tummy.

Joel is drenched from head to toe. His blue denim shirt clings to his broad frame and his dark, graying curls are slicked back away from his face.

He’s got such a handsome face.

Monsters aren’t supposed to have handsome faces.

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re really askin’ me how the hunt went?” Suspicion laces his tone. “Why? Y’worried you won’t eat tonight?”

Of course you weren’t.

Joel Miller doesn’t let you go hungry.

When food is scarce, he makes sure you eat first. If he notices you rubbing your tummy because your portion wasn’t enough, he’ll give you his own portion.

He takes care of you.

“No.” You pause and sit up. The sheets you two share fall away from your body, leaving your soft, supple breasts on full display for him. “Just wanted to know how your morning went. That’s all.”

It’s not your tits that make his cock twitch against the zipper of his jeans—it’s the sincerity that flashes across your features, the sound of it in the tone of your voice.

You’re being sweet to him.

He clears his throat lightly.

“Went real good. Brought down a deer. Female, ‘bout a hundred pounds or so. Enough to keep all of us well fed for the next couple of weeks,” he says with a nod. “Was pissin’ rain the entire time but it was worth it. Tommy’s in the shed out back right now dressin’ it so we can get a stew started.” He pauses. “You’re gonna get a proper meal tonight, babygirl. Belly’s gonna be nice and full.”

He’s not just talking about food and you know it.

You make an effort to meet his gaze, but you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to do it, not when you remembered how he’d taken you away from your family—how he had carried you over his shoulder, kicking and screaming as his people raided your camp and slaughtered every last member of your group because that’s what Joel Miller had ordered them to do.

Looking him in the eye might be the one thing you will never, ever be able to do.

“It’s cold,” you murmur after a minute. “You should get out of those wet clothes before you get sick.”

With a subtle nod, Joel turns around and starts peeling off his clothes until he’s completely naked. He uses an old rag to dry himself off as best as he can, although it doesn’t do much for him.

You can’t help yourself and stare—your gaze drags over the strong muscles of his back and shoulders, how they flex and ripple beneath his skin with every single one of his movements. Arousal pools between your thighs and all you can do is fucking hate yourself for wanting it, for wanting him.

“S’pretty early still,” he states, his back still to you as he runs the rag through his hair. “Y’should try to get some more sleep.”

The confession tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think about stopping it.

“I couldn’t sleep while you were gone.”

Surprised, he turns around.

Almost immediately, your eyes fall to his cock.

Even when he isn’t fully hard, he’s still so fucking big.

“Is that so?” Joel asks, sounding rather pleased. 

“Yes,” you say, softly. “I—I missed you.”

His lips turn upwards into a subtle, faint grin.

“Yeah?” he coos. “My sweet little girl missed me while I was gone? Hm?” Slowly, he approaches the bed. It dips slightly and the frame creaks as he plants a knee on the mattress and leans over towards you. Gently, Joel takes your chin between his index finger and thumb. “Y’need Daddy by your side so you can sleep, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you whisper, warm tears glazing over your eyes.

It’s bad enough your body welcomed him so easily.

Now your heart was starting to do the same.

And then there was your mind.

What if that stopped fighting him too?

Part of you is afraid it already has.

Joel climbs into bed, joining you under the sheets.

“M’here, my pretty girl. C’mere, honey.” He coaxes you to lay on your side and pulls you back against his chest. His skin is still damp, frigid from having been out in the elements, but somehow he’s still warm. “That better?”

“Need you closer,” you mumble, wiggling against him.

Joel groans, his thick cock hard and throbbing against the small of your back. He nips at your bare shoulder as his hand drags down the length of your body and slips between your thighs. “Christ, babygirl. Pussy’s soakin’ wet for me. Looks like she missed me while I was gone too, didn’t she, sweetheart?”

He runs his finger along your slick, silky folds.

“Daddy,” you whimper, bucking into his hand.

“Don’t worry, honey. Daddy knows what you need.”

Joel pulls his hand from between your legs.

You almost cry—you’re so fucking desperate for him. 

And you shouldn’t be. 

He reaches in between your bodies, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock. Without warning, he slips it into your tight, aching cunt, sheathing himself in your warm, wet heat in one smooth stroke.

You choke out a sob.

It’s always overwhelming, that initial stretch.

That fullness, the feeling of him being in your belly.

“S’alright, sweetheart. S’alright. I know you can take it,” he soothes you. “You’re such a good girl for me. Always take my cock so fuckin’ well. So good for me, baby. You feel better now that Daddy’s cock is buried inside your pretty little pussy?”

He drapes an arm around you, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“Yes,” you breathe, placing your hand on top of his.

Joel feathers a kiss onto your neck.

“Go to sleep, babygirl. M’here. Ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he promises you.

That shouldn’t be a comfort to you. But it is.

You close your eyes, your fingers subconsciously lacing together with his as you start to drift.

Cunt full of his cock, you fall asleep in your captor’s arms.

divider credit to @saradika🤍

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