#hiiii Charlotte I hope you like this!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

singsweetmelodies · 5 months

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Hello Katie 👋🏼👋🏼 :D

For the 50 romance prompts ask meme, I'll like to request for 44: soulmate AU: timers <3

but if possible... with a twist...? (you don't have to include a twist if it's too difficult to work it in!)

The twist being, for whatever reason, their countdown timers for each of them to the time they meet their soulmates doesn't match, so they think "we're not each other's soulmates. that's cool. (no it's not)" but it turns out that they're each other soulmates anyways. or they choose to be with each other in spite of not being each other's soulmates. idk. *nervous laughter*

hiiii charlotte 🥰 first off, i am SO sorry for the incredible delay with this answer!! i saw this prompt and i absolutely LOVED IT (and the twist!! 🙏 *chef's kiss*) but unfortunately i got struck with a horrible case of writer's block/work deadlines, and just couldn't get to it at all.

until yesterday: i decided to just open my inbox and see what came to me. no thinking, just following the vibe of a prompt and writing. and uh. this happened... not only did it get ridiculously long (oops?) but it also somehow became a mini "investigate montreal" fic?? so in that vein, i'm tagging @1016week and submitting a belated entry for Day 6 "Montreal"... ❤️

i love this one. hope you love it too!! 👀⌚

Charles' soulmate timer stops when he is seven years old, and he meets the boy with the bluest eyes he's ever seen.

He's been vibrating with excitement all weekend - not just because it's a karting cup, but because his soulmate timer has been ticking down to this day for months now. Well, not just months, not really. It's actually been his whole life, but Charles doesn't remember all of that. He only remembers the past few months, when the little numbers had been getting smaller and smaller, until there were only ten days left and Charles gasped when he realised that the day would fall on the same day as the Bridgestone Cup.

"Of course the girl I marry is going to like racing, too," he'd told Maman and Papa, confidingly. Not a lot about soulmates made much sense to him, but this did.

His Maman had tried to smile, and Charles had hugged her tight to let her know it was going to be okay. He would find his soulmate, and then everyone would be smiling, because that's what people do when you meet your soulmate.

(Later that night, when Charles had been too excited to sleep and he'd gone to the bathroom quickly, Charles had heard his parents having an argument in their room. The door was closed, so their voices were muffled, but Charles could still make out his Maman saying "I just don't think it's a good sign, to meet your soulmate so young!" But Papa had countered, "Many people do, and they have beautiful stories. You have to trust that our Charles will meet his perfect match tomorrow." And then there had been an icky noise, like kissing, and Charles had flushed the loo quickly and ran back to his room.)

Now, with the beautiful blue eyed boy standing in front of him, Charles thinks of Papa's words again. Our Charles will meet his perfect match tomorrow.

Charles thought it would be a girl who really liked karting, but this is even better. This is a boy who wins at karting, because he's holding a trophy in both hands and grinning like he couldn't be happier.

Of course Charles' perfect match would be someone who wins at karting. It's only right, because Charles also wins at karting.

Charles clears his throat. "Hi," he says shyly, and the blue-eyed boy jumps.

"Oh! Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," he says apologetically, and then he laughs. He has a nice laugh, Charles thinks - like he knows how to have fun. "You are a bit short," the blue-eyed boy adds, and hey.

"Hey," Charles protests. "I'm tall for my age. I'm seven."

"Well, I'm nine," the blue-eyed boy says, like that's the most impressive age in the world.

It is a bit impressive, but not very, because Lorenzo is much older than that. Still, it is a little scary - Charles is only seven. What if this blue-eyed boy doesn't like him because he's only seven? Older kids can be mean like that.

No, he is your perfect match, Charles reminds himself. This blue-eyed boy won't be mean to him, because that's not how perfect matches work.

Charles takes a deep breath, then he sticks out his hand. "I'm Charles," he says.

The blue-eyed boy takes his hand, and it feels... weird. A little bit like when you get shocked by static electricity.

Charles giggles, unable to stop himself, and the blue-eyed boy smiles, as though he likes that.

"Hello, Charles. I'm Pierre," he says, squeezing Charles' hand. His eyes widen a moment later. "Oh! You've met your soulmate?!"

Charles doesn't understand what he means. "Well, yeah," he says. "It's y-"

And then he notices it.

Pierre's soulmate timer, right there on his wrist, right above where Charles is gripping his hand - it's still ticking.

Now, Charles doesn't know a lot about soulmates yet, but he knows that that's not good. Not good at all.

"I, um," Charles stammers, and then he does the one thing Maman and Papa said you should never do to your soulmate. Charles lies.

"I met so many new people today. I don't remember who it was."

Pierre's face falls. "Oh," he says, and he sounds unbearably sad for Charles. "But..." He chews his lip, shaking his head with a deep frown.

Then, mid-shake, Pierre's expression changes to one of determination. "I will help you find them," he says, with the kind of confidence Charles can only dream of when he's not on the racetrack.

He tugs on Charles' hand - which he still hasn't let go of - and Charles is helpless to do anything but follow.

They don't find Charles' soulmate anywhere, of course, and then Charles has to go win his race - but Pierre makes him promise that they will find each other at the next French karting event, and Charles will tell him all about his soulmate.

Charles promises, even though the idea makes his stomach feel all funny. I shouldn't be lying to my soulmate, he thinks, guiltily.

But Pierre's soulmate timer didn't stop ticking, and... that's not how soulmates are supposed to work.

The moment he's in the car with his father after the race, heading back home, Charles asks him about it.

Papa is quiet for a long moment, then: "Are you sure there wasn't someone behind Pierre, Charles?" he asks, in his careful, kind way. "Someone who's timer stopped at the same time as yours?"

Charles thinks about it for a moment, but even the idea of that feels - wrong, somehow. Like going into a corner and knowing you braked too hard, and you're going to flip the kart.

He shakes his head decisively. "No," he says. "It's Pierre."

He hears rather than sees his father blow out a soft sigh. Charles catches his eye in the rearview mirror, feeling confused and a little shaky inside.

When Papa sighs like that, it's never good news - it's usually something about sponsorship, which is a word Charles is already coming to dread.

It doesn't make sense how this could be about sponsorship, though. It probably isn't.

Charles waits for his father to gather his thoughts, like he needs to do sometimes to make sure he says exactly what he means. (It's something Maman keeps telling him he should try doing as well, but he's not so good at that yet.)

"You know how even the greatest racing drivers make mistakes sometimes?" Papa asks.

Charles frowns, but he nods. "Yes?"

"Sometimes the universe is like that, too. Sometimes the universe makes a mistake, and stops the timers too soon," Papa explains.

Charles frowns. He hasn't heard about that before, but he guesses it makes sense. It's true what Papa said - not even Senna was a perfect driver who never made mistakes. It makes sense that the universe is the same.

"But this doesn't mean you don't have a soulmate, okay, Charles?" Papa says before Charles can spend too much time thinking about the whole thing. His voice is firmer than Charles was expecting, and he reaches up to tilt the rearview mirror to see Charles better.

"It doesn't mean you don't have a soulmate," he repeats, like he doesn't want Charles to ever doubt that. "It just means it's going to be a little harder to find them."

Charles frowns, and he can't help but be a little annoyed. Isn't the whole point of soulmate timers to make it easier to find your perfect match?

It's just his luck that his soulmate timer doesn't work properly.

"I understand," Charles says, though, because he can tell it's important to his father.

Papa nods, but he keeps watching Charles in the rearview mirror for the rest of the drive, like he sometimes does after a race where Charles crashed the kart badly and he needs to keep making sure that Charles is fine.

Of course Charles is fine. He doesn't think this is comparable to a bad race at all! It's a little annoying, yes, but it's not that bad. It's just a bit of extra work, isn't it?

Charles shrugs his shoulders, glancing quickly down at the stopped soulmate timer at his wrist.

Whatever. Racing is more important than soulmates, anyway.

Almost twenty years later, Charles still says that to himself almost every day, even if he doesn't believe it with nearly the same careless seven-year-old confidence anymore: racing is more important than soulmates.

It is, because it has to be.

The thing is this: his father's explanation to Charles' seven-year-old self had been true - if a little oversimplified, and painted with an overt layer of kindness.

The truth Charles knows now is that there are two reasons, two categories, for people whose timers stop when the other person's keeps running.

One is, like Papa had said all those years ago, a simple case of mistaken timing - cases where the universe or fate or whatever controls it all stopped one person's timer a little too soon, or the other's a little too late.

It's harder to find each other in those cases, but it's still quite possible.

And then there's the second category. The unrequiteds. People whose timers stopped at the right time - when they met the person who would be their perfect match - except that they are not that person's perfect match in return. It only goes one way.

It's rare, but it happens sometimes. No system is perfect, after all - not even a system of soulmates.

For years and years, Charles tried to convince himself that he fell into the first category. His soulmate timer simply stopped too early, by some cosmic accident - but it's okay, Charles insists to everyone who asks and to himself as well, because what it's done is given Charles more time to focus on his racing instead. He's not constantly glancing down at his wrist and wondering when his timer is going to stop ticking - he can just get on with the racing.

He'll find his soulmate eventually, but on his own terms. There's nothing bad about that, surely.

Charles believes that. Really he does.

Except.

Except, if it's true and Charles falls into the first category - the mistaken timing category - then it would mean Pierre isn't his soulmate.

Pierre, who kept the promise he'd made to a seven-year-old who wasn't even his soulmate (because, yes, he had found Charles at the very next French karting cup, and he'd asked to meet Charles' soulmate - and when Charles had to admit that he still hadn't found them, Pierre had hugged him and told him not to give up and that he would find his soulmate someday. Pierre had held Charles' hand and explained that his parents almost didn't find each other, but they did. So it might take Charles some time, but that was okay, because it had taken Pierre's parents some time too, but now they were happier than ever. He'd been so convincing, firm but kind and absolutely sure of himself, and he'd made Charles believe it. He also made Charles smile, genuinely and truly, when he promised he'd stick by Charles' side no matter what anyone else said or whispered about his stopped soulmate timer.)

Pierre, who kept that promise about sticking with Charles, too. Pierre who never stopped being kind, and loyal, and the best friend Charles could ask for, whether he was seven or thirteen or nineteen or twenty-six.

Honestly, how was Charles supposed to not fall hopelessly in love with him?

He tried to deny it. For years and years, Charles tried to deny it - I will find my soulmate someday and it will all make sense, he'd tried to convince himself - but the thing was, what made more sense than Pierre being his soulmate?

It was roundabout the time of Pierre's first win (when Charles was standing under the podium in Monza with an aching back but a heart soaring with joy for his best friend despite the disaster of his own race) that Charles resigned himself to the truth: Pierre is his soulmate.

He has to be. Isn't a soulmate meant to be your perfect match; the person who understands you better than anyone and makes you happier than any other person in the world?

There's nobody else who could make Charles as happy as Pierre does. Nobody, nobody. There's no point in even trying to deny it anymore.

Pierre is his soulmate. But he is not Pierre's.

And that's okay. It's okay.

It has to be.

It isn't okay, not really, but that's true of a lot of things in Charles' life, and he's learned how to deal with them. He can deal with this, too.

On the whole, Charles thinks he does a pretty good job of dealing with it. He gets to be Pierre's best friend, after all - isn't that just a different kind of soulmate? True, Charles might want more, but it isn't like he has nothing. He has Pierre, and he will have Pierre for the rest of their lives.

Not in the way he wants, but - at least he will have Pierre.

The one thing he tries never to think about is Pierre's actual soulmate. Because Pierre has one, he knows, and he will meet them at some point.

Charles doesn't know how the hell he's supposed to look at some soulmate of Pierre's, and smile at her, and not be hopelessly, heartbreakingly jealous.

(He will do it, though. He will learn to smile at Pierre's soulmate - for Pierre's sake. He'll do it for Pierre.)

But that's a bridge he will cross when they get there. He doesn't have to worry about it yet (or at least, that's what Charles keeps telling himself even as the months tick by, and he knows there aren't year figures left on Pierre's soulmate timer anymore. Just months now, and then... weeks.)

Charles isn't thinking about it. He's put it out of his mind completely - which is easy enough to do, thankfully, given everything that's been happening on-track this season.

That's probably why he accepts Pierre's invitation to dinner in Montreal without thinking twice about it. (Even if he had realised, though, Charles doesn't think he would have been able to say no, either. He would give Pierre everything, if he only asked.)

So they go to dinner in Montreal, and it's perfect, and wonderful, and laughter-filled, and all in all exactly what Charles needed to distract himself from the fact that he has yet another engine penalty, and the sinking feeling that the championship is beginning to slip out of his reach.

Pierre seems to realise it, because he's in even finer form than usual - teasing Charles and tickling his ribs playfully and making him laugh at every possible opportunity.

Even on the drive back to the hotel: they stop at a red light, and Pierre steals Charles' cap, and Charles is giggling and filming it while Pierre is giggling back, and he's pretty sure neither of them are thinking about it at all, until-

Until Pierre's face changes from laughter to something almost ashen. "Charles," he says, and for all the years Charles has known him, he's never once heard Pierre's voice like that. "My soulmate timer just stopped."

For a few seconds, the words don't even register in Charles' mind.

Then they do, and Charles can feel his heart drop. "What?" he breathes.

His hands shake, and he doesn't even register the fact that the light has gone green as he glances all around them, craning his neck to see if there's anyone behind the white Ferrari, or around to the side.

Just a few minutes ago, their car had been surrounded by fans on all sides, all jostling to try and get pictures of them. But now, somehow, they're all alone in the Montreal night.

(The irony of it all is not lost on him - is this how Pierre felt all those years ago, when he was trying to look for Charles' soulmate at a karting cup, but not finding anybody it could be?)

"Are you sure it stopped just now? And not earlier?" Charles asks, willing his voice not to shake.

"Yeah," Pierre whispers. He sounds... devastated.

"But," Charles says, and then he has to take a deep breath. "But there's no-one else here, Pierrot."

"I know," Pierre says, somehow even softer.

Charles' fingers clench reflexively around the steering wheel, and he's moving in blank autopilot as he puts the car into gear and starts driving forward again.

He doesn't even realise he's shaking his head until Pierre says softly, "Charles." There's something wounded about it.

Charles stops shaking his head and slams on the brakes instead, jerking the car into something he hopes is a parking space at the side of the road.

"I don't understand," he says, far more calmly than he feels. "You can't - I can't be your soulmate."

Okay, maybe he's not so calm after all. But he doesn't think... he doesn't think anyone would be calm, in this situation.

Pierre makes a sound that could almost be a laugh, except that it sounds too strangled. "Do you know," he says, "that I have spent half my life wondering if the soulmate system got something wrong in my case? Because if you're not my soulmate, then who is? Who could possibly..."

Pierre does laugh this time, shaking his head. "You know, I asked to go out with you tonight for a reason. I knew - I knew it would happen tonight, so I needed to..." He swallows. "I needed to see you, one last time. Before I wouldn't be allowed to love you anymore."

It jolts through Charles then, what Pierre is trying to say. "Pierre," he breathes, and now it's his turn to say his best friend's name in a way he doesn't think he's ever said it before.

But Pierre's not finished yet. "I thought I could have one last night with you," he says. "One last night, before I had to say goodbye to my feelings, and try to love someone else."

My feelings. Try to love someone else.

Charles Leclerc is a lot of things, but an idiot is not one of them. He knows what Pierre is saying. He's...

Pierre loves him too. All along, Pierre has loved him too.

Only, he never had the option of thinking we're soulmates, Charles realised, and his heart twists in his chest.

Because Charles, for all that he accepted his soulbond toward Pierre was unrequited - at least he'd had the option of them being soulmates. Yes, it was in a twisted way, but at least he'd had that.

Pierre didn't. And he still fell in love with Charles.

The thought hits him like a shell-shock, and it's enough that Charles can only sit there for a moment, staring blankly, as Pierre continues talking beside him.

"I meant for tonight to just be a quick dinner together, something fun but normal for us," Pierre is saying, wringing his hands. "But I lost track of time. I always lose time when I'm talking to you, Charlito, I could talk to you forever - but the point is, I forgot to tell you I need to go back. I forgot that I was meant to meet my fucking soulmate tonight, because I was spending time with you, and - "

He takes a deep breath, and then he laughs again, leaning forward to drop his head into his hands. "I felt it happen, you know? I knew exactly when my soulmate timer stopped, because I could feel it, and it's - it was when I put that fucking cap on my head, Charles."

The cap that he's still wearing. Charles' 16 Ferrari cap.

Charles' hands shake as he reaches out to touch it, just the brim. "Your soulmate timer stopped when you put my cap on," he says, because a part of him still can't believe that this is real, that he's not living in some kind of heartbreakingly wonderful dream.

Pierre straightens up so fast that Charles is left with his fingers dangling awkwardly in mid-air. "Yes," he says, suddenly looking wild, "but this doesn't have to change anything, Charlito, I promise. I will still help you find your soulmate, and I will - I'll learn how to live with an unrequited bond, it's -"

"No!" Charles interrupts, half-throwing himself across the car to catch hold of Pierre's hands. "No, no, no, no. No more unrequited bonds, Pierrot."

Pierre starts to shake his head, but then he stops in the middle of the movement. "What do you mean," he asks, very carefully, "no more?"

And suddenly, Charles feels giddy, of all things. "I mean, your timer didn't stop when mine did. So for years, I have thought that we can't be soulmates, or at least that you couldn't be my soulmate. But now your timer stopped when you put on my cap, so -"

"Stop, stop, stop," Pierre says, squeezing Charles' hands tightly. "What do you mean, my timer didn't stop when yours did?"

"Oh," Charles says, and then he winces, the weight of the only real lie he's ever told his best friend (the only real lie he's ever told his soulmate) settling onto his shoulders with uncomfortable heaviness. "Um. Well. Do you remember when we met, and you thought I already met my soulmate?"

"No," Pierre breathes, but it's not the kind of no that says "no I don't remember." This no is more like "no way."

"Yeah," Charles says, and he can't help but look down at his own wrist, where the soulmate timer has been stopped for years and years. "My timer stopped the moment I met you, Pierrot."

"You..."

Pierre doesn't look like he knows how to finish that sentence, but Charles understands him anyway. "How was I supposed to tell you? I was seven, Pierre, and your timer didn't stop. I thought it was a mistake for years."

"But?" Pierre asks, like he can tell there was a but.

Charles beams at him. "But, I realised that there was nobody else who could be my perfect match. So I thought you were my soulmate after all, but it was unrequited."

"Never," Pierre says with a fierceness Charles doesn't expect. "Charles, never. If I knew... if I thought I had even half a chance, I would have been with you anyway."

Charles tries to laugh, but it comes out all breathless. "No you wouldn't."

"Yes, I would," Pierre argues, and his voice is heartbreakingly sincere. "I don't care. I would have chosen you."

Charles hears a punched-out noise, and it takes him a moment to realise it came from him. The next moment, he's unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing awkwardly over to sit on Pierre's lap.

It's not quite comfortable, because for all its luxury, the white Ferrari does not have a lot of leg space - but Charles doesn't think either of them give a single fuck, in this moment.

"I love you," he tells Pierre, reaching up to cup his cheek. "I've always loved you, but I never would have stood between you and your soulmate."

"Funny," Pierre says, his hands coming up to grip Charles' hips, "because that's exactly what stopped me from kissing you senseless."

"Well," Charles says, and if he grinds down just a little on Pierre's lap, he'll swear to everyone who asks that it was accidental. "It doesn't have to stop us anymore."

"Never again," Pierre agrees, tightening his grip on Charles' hips. "Never."

"So kiss me senseless, please," Charles whispers, and then he adds "soulmate," and that's what does it. Pierre surges up and kisses him, wild and desperate and more than a little clumsy, but without question the best kiss Charles has ever had. His own cap digs into his forehead a little, but Charles can't even bring himself to care about that - they owe too much to this cap now, honestly.

Maybe the universe does know what it's doing after all, Charles thinks. Maybe the universe just wanted to write a good story for them. A story that goes like this:

Charles' soulmate timer stopped when he was seven years old, and he met the boy with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.

Almost twenty years later, Pierre's soulmate timer stopped in a white Ferrari in Montreal, and Charles finally got to kiss the boy with the bluest eyes he's ever seen, the man who is his best friend and his soulmate.

The odds of it working out this way have to be... a million to one, probably, or maybe even less.

But then again, what are the odds that two boys who met at a French karting cup and became friends with a shared dream would both make it to Formula 1?

Maybe the answer is just that Pierre and Charles have always liked beating the odds.

(50 Romance Prompts Ask Meme) <- not currently taking more prompts, sorry!

#50 romance prompts meme #piarles #piarles fic #myfic #soulmate timers au #*me writing this to try and banish my writers block* so it's just going to be a short little drabble!#you can tell i am a scuderia ferrari fan and delusional because LOOK what happened lmfao #i don't think you could call this ''short'' in any sense of the word #in fact it probably belongs on AO3 #OOPS #but i love it #i love it SO MUCH #we are so back babyyyyy #(like any good ferrari fan i fully expect to be saying ''it's so over!'' a week from now)#(but let's enjoy it while it lasts!!)#(SOULMATE PIARLES BABYYYYY)#(posted at exactly 16:26 my time too! this makes me smile <333)

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beefromanoff · 23 days

Text

Project Mockingbird Ch. 14

summary: the aftermath of the attack, the reunion, the recap.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: hiiii, not much to say with this one, but I have the next chapter ALMOST done as well so be prepared for a double update this week!

tag list: @bangtanxberm @scott-loki-barnes @kayhi808 @charmedbysarge

(let me know if you want to be added <3)

chapter list

_______________________________________

“We need aerial pickup in the woods outside the generator, my coordinates. Get medical ready, tell them we have an incoming Avenger.”

Her eyes flicked up to Bucky at the last word, surprise lighting them up. His face was a standard mask of annoyance mixed with…was that relief? Blue eyes trailed over her body before meeting hers once again. He regarded her for a moment before speaking again.

“So when were you gonna tell me you learned to fly a Quinjet?”

Typical. He does something heroic and chivalrous, but still has the same attitude problem. Some knight in shining armor. “I was waiting t’see if y’brought me a souvenir,” She croaked through her raw, burning throat.

As the smoke from the explosion began to clear, Charlotte's ears were still ringing from the deafening blast. She blinked, trying to regain her bearings as she looked around to assess the damage. Tears streaked through the dirt on her cheeks as her eyes burned, her whole body buzzing at how close she’d come to the end. She’d tried to stand a few moments ago, but nearly vomited at the pain in her ribs. Now seated against the base of a tree, she could feel the pain beginning to cloud her mind as the adrenaline wore off.

"Charlotte, hey, stay with me," Bucky's voice cut through the haze of confusion, filled with concern as he knelt in front of her. “Medical is almost here.”

Groaning, she sat up a little straighter. “Th’shouldn’t come outside the shield,” she paused to cough. “S’too smokey and there could be another detonation. We need t’move.”

Bucky regarded her grimly, eyebrows raised, but didn’t argue. “Okay. C’mon.” He helped Charlotte to her feet, his arm wrapped around her waist, steadying her as she stumbled slightly. She favored her left leg, still peppered with glass from the windshield, putting her arm over his shoulders for stability.

"That was quite the entrance," Charlotte groaned, her voice shaky as she leaned into Bucky's firm grip. “B’you could have stuck the landing a little better."

Bucky offered her a small smile that didn’t meet his eyes, shouldering the majority of her weight as they began to traipse through the shrapnel-littered woods. The pain must be bad if she was cracking jokes, begging for a distraction.

“Y’could have shown up a little sooner, too.” She forced out between shallow breaths.

“We stopped for burgers halfway,” He humored her. “You seemed like you had it handled.” He didn’t mention the way they’d been white-knuckled the whole flight back, nearly silent as they prayed they’d make it in time. The way he’d paced the floor, ready to rip the enemy aircraft apart with his bare hands when he finally got to it. The way he heard those words and was ready to throw himself out of the Quinjet just to get to her. She’s not gonna make it.

“D’you bring me one?” Her weight was getting heavier on his shoulder.

“Yeah. Yeah, we did.” Bucky hoisted her arm higher around his neck, taking more weight off of her leg. “Hope you like mustard.”

As they finally approached the edge of the shield, they were greeted by the sight of a medical cart waiting to transport them back to the safety of the compound. The first rays of dawn were beginning to lighten up the inky sky, breaking up the darkness. When they reached the cart, Charlotte eased herself into the flatbed of the cart with Bucky's assistance, taking a slow breath as she leaned against the edge. Hopping in behind her, Bucky patted the hull of the cart, signaling that they were ready to go.

The journey back to the main building was quiet, the only sound was the hum of the cart's engine and Charlotte’s occasional sharp breaths when they hit a particularly large bump. Bucky didn’t speak, but his eyes clocked every wince, every muscle tensing in her jaw. He glanced up ahead, seeing the compound buildings beginning to come into view.

As Charlotte sat in the medical cart, her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut as the adrenaline that had fueled her during the attack was nearly gone, leaving her feeling drained and emotionally raw.vShe couldn't shake the feeling of disbelief at the suddenness of the attack, the way it had shattered the peace and security of the compound in an instant. It was a stark reminder of the ever-present threat posed by HYDRA, lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike when least expected. She’d allowed herself to get comfortable, to live in the delusion that there was a life after them. That they’d one day stop looking for her and let her go free.

That delusion had brought one of the world’s most dangerous organization to the doorstep of the only people who had offered her a home. A family.

The thought of losing any of them was almost too much to bear, a prospect she couldn't even begin to contemplate. To think that it might have been her fault, her presence that lured them here…she couldn’t even let herself finish the thought.

Rounding the final corner and emerging from the treeline, the hangar and main building grew nearer. With them, the crowd of people gathered in front, clapping and cheering. The sound made Charlotte open her eyes. Standing outside the SHIELD headquarters were the two dozen agents who’d been there through the attack, had been under her assumed command. At the front of the crowd stood Calla, clapping furiously with tears in her eyes. Beside her, still in full battle gear, was Sam, Steve, Nat, Wanda, and Peter. All of them looking beautifully clean and unscathed. All of them cheering. Charlotte felt a wave of relief wash over her, finally accepting that it was over. The cart jolted to a stop, whistles and applause filling her ears. There was a knot in her stomach that she wasn’t ready to address yet, a maelstrom of emotions clawing through her, demanding to be felt. Instead, she focused on the physical feelings. People patting her shoulder, squeezing her hands, sliding under her knees and lifting her out of the cart.

Opening her eyes, Charlotte saw dozens of faces beaming at her. Calla was holding one of her hands, the other was draped around the shoulder of whoever was carrying her. The feeling of vibranium under her knees told her all she needed to know. As Bucky walked through the crowd, they eagerly parted to let her through, the cheers never ceasing. The doors to the medical wing slid open with a whoosh, cool air conditioning wafting over them in contrast to the spring humidity.

In the distance, she could hear Natasha’s voice telling the agents to give her some space, before Steve thanked them for their bravery and asked them to give their statements to Intelligence before heading home for the end of their shift. There was a hallway, a turn, and then she was being gently set down on the all-too-familiar medical bed.

“From what I hear, we just need to put your name on the door,” Calla quipped, washing her hands in the corner.

Charlotte mustered a chuckle, but anything beyond that threatened to set her throat on fire.

“Okay, let’s get you cleaned up. What hurts the most?” Her eyes raked over Charlotte, fingers assessing each wound. Angling her leg, Charlotte nodded to the shards of glass protruding like spikes all down the side. Calla masked her concern like a true professional. “That seems like a good place to start.”

She pulled a stool beneath her and slid her hands into a pair of gloves as Maddie, the lab tech, wheeled in a tray of first aid supplies. “Sargeant, would you mind lending a hand?” Calla looked expectantly up at Bucky.

“Yeah, uh, sure.” He cleared his throat and stepped toward the bed.

“Grab those scissors in the top drawer,” She nodded her head to the counter behind Bucky, shining a small flashlight in Charlotte’s eyes. He obliged, crossing the room to stand beside the bed. “Thank you. I need you to cut the left leg out of Ms. Rossi’s suit.”

“You, wait, what?” Bucky looked incredulous.

“I can’t effectively clean and stitch her up with the suit on, and I can’t take it off while Ms. Rossi still has glass sticking out of her leg. If I pull the glass out before taking the suit off, she’ll lose even more blood.” Her tone was calm but firm as she continued to work, cleaning a wound on Charlotte’s forehead. “So in order to get her taken care of and out of pain as quickly as possible, I need you to take those scissors, cut up the center of her suit, and get me access to the wounds.”

He stood, frozen, beside her bed.

“Now, Sargent.”

With that, he sprung into action. Setting the scissors down at the foot of her bed, nimble fingers unlaced her boots, gently removing them and tossing them to the side. They landed on the floor with a solid thump. Cold metal touched her ankle as he lifted the hem of her suit away from her skin and slid one scissor blade beneath it. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he carefully but quickly cut a line up the top of her leg. As he worked, Maddie tugged the fabric over the glass on the side, freeing the wounds. Once the scissors had reached her thigh, Bucky stopped.

“Good,” Calla pointed. “Now bring the cut around the outside of her thigh so we can peel the fabric back all the way.”

Charlotte could have sworn he flushed, but he did what he was told. Calla pulled the flap of fabric to the side, revealing a mangled mess of her leg. Blood, old and new, caked her skin and dozens of large pieces of glass stuck out the side, running from her ankle nearly to her hip.

“Sargant, one more thing. Could you hand me that towel?” Calla’s tone was warm and calm, smiling as Bucky dropped it into her hand. Offering it to Charlotte, she gave a clear instruction. “Bite down.”

Bringing the towel to her mouth, Charlotte didn’t have time to question before Maddie dumped a copious amount of antiseptic onto her leg, setting her whole body on fire. She bit into the towel so hard her jaw ached, a muffled scream filling the room and setting her throat ablaze. Out of the corner of her watery eyes, she swore she saw Bucky wince. The wave of pain caused sweat to bead across her forehead, her leg throbbing. They made every effort to work quickly, but that did little to quell the agony.

Forcing herself to breathe through her nose, Charlotte clenched her eyes shut, telling herself all the same things she had in the past. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. It’ll be over in a minute. Pain is just my body telling me something is wrong, and I already know something is wrong. I don’t need the pain. I don’t feel the pain. I don’t feel th-

“Oh, shit,” Sam’s voice called from the doorway, pulling Calla’s eyes up to his for just a split second as she dropped a particularly large shard of glass onto the tray beside her. Steve and Nat pushed into the room, taking in the scene. Charlotte on the bed, eyes closed and sweat dripping as she bit down onto a towel. Calla and Maddie furiously working on her gruesome left leg, one set of hands carefully extracting shrapnel while the other cleaned and stitched the wounds left behind. Bucky standing beside the bed, hands behind his head and a grim look on his face. His helpless eyes met Steve’s and a look passed between them. Guilt? Understanding? Their unspoken conversation was interrupted by Natasha slid a chair bedside, gripping Charlotte’s right hand as her eyes flicked open. They were red from all the smoke, but alert.

“Hell of a showing back there,” Nat gave a reassuring grin, squeezing her hand. Charlotte groaned, rolling her eyes.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you might be born for this ‘saving the world’ gig after all.”

Charlotte shot her a sidelong look, narrowing her eyes. Raising her hands defensively, Nat joked, “Listen, all I’m saying is it took Sam years to learn to fly a Quinjet and Bucky still refuses to use comms correctly. You’ve got ‘em both beat.”

“Hey,” Bucky frowned at her.

“Am I wrong?”

Nat’s attempts to distract everyone from the tense situation were effective. Calla and Maddie had worked their way up Charlotte’s leg, staunching the bleeding and leaving a web of dark stitching and angry red cuts in their wake. As Maddie tied off the final stitch, Calla tugged her gloves off with a snap. “Alright, looks like we salvaged the leg.” She winked at Charlotte. “Let’s take a look at those ribs.”

Attempting to prop herself up on her elbows, Charlotte winced, eyes squeezing shut. Several pairs of hands reached out to support her, Nat being the first to reach her thanks to her proximity.

“Woah, take it easy,” Calla braced her other arm. “Gentlemen, give us a minute?” She nodded to the door, with Steve, Sam, and Bucky filing out obediently. When the door was shut behind them, she returned her gaze to Charlotte. “Is it alright if we go ahead and remove the suit? We’ll put a medical gown on you, I know how much you love those.”

Charlotte scoffed but held her arms out long, granting them permission to tug the sleeves off. With the three sets of gentle female hands and a few more slices from the scissors, her suit lay in a stained and crumbled heap on the floor. For the next fifteen minutes, they set to work cleaning her various cuts and abrasions while Nat held her hand. Charlotte closed her eyes and leaned her head against the pillow, the exhaustion catching up with her. She had a difficult time processing all that had happened in the span of a week. The team leaving for their mission, her outburst with the agents, meeting Calla and finding out the bombshell about her relationship with Sam, learning to fly a Quinjet, the attack in the dead of night, almost being blown up, being rescued by Bucky…again, the heroes reception she’d received when they returned. It was too much for her muddled brain to process at the moment.

“Alright, Char, you’re as good as new. Or at least you will be in a few days.” Calla squeezed her arm. “Thanks, Maddie, you’re good to go back home. Thanks for coming in on such short notice. Take the rest of the day off. Oh, and tell the guys they’re good to come back in.”

“Thanks, Maddie.” Charlotte’s strained voice called after her.

“No problem.” Maddie smiled. “I hope I don’t see you again anytime soon.”

Laughing into a cough, Charlotte adjusted her position against the pillow, the white medical gown just as unflattering as always. Chairs squeaked across the floor as all three men rejoined them and took a position around the bed, looking at her expectantly.

“Good morning,” She raised an eyebrow.

“Good morning.” Steve chucked. “How do you feel?”

“How do I look?”

“Like you just about got blown up,” Sam teased.

“Yeah, not the best way to get blown.” She yawned, ignoring Steve’s choked laugh and Bucky’s raised eyebrow. “But you should see the other guy.”

“I don’t think there’s much left to see.” Nat chimed in.

“Guess that means I did my job.”

“You did great, Charlotte.” Steve’s tone was warm, reassuring. The atmosphere thickened as smiles faded in favor of a more serious tone. “If you hadn’t been here, hadn’t acted when you did…things would have turned out much differently. Thank you.”

“Yeah, I’ve grown pretty fond of this place.” Natasha squeezed her hand. “Thank you for protecting it.”

“This place,” Sam stood and crossed the room to stand by Calla, still typing notes into her computer. “And the people inside it. I owe you one.”

Charlotte smiled. “No, you don’t. I’m pretty fond of it too. The place and the people.” She winked at Calla.

“Sam, something you’d like to tell us?” Steve raised an eyebrow at Sam’s arm draped around Calla’s shoulders.

Chuckling, he met Calla’s eyes. “Guys, this is Dr. Calla Arturo. My fiance.”

Bucky let out a whistle as Steve grinned and stood to hug Sam. Nat simply picked at her nails, winking at the couple, another secret well kept.

“I’m sorry, we have a lot to catch up on, it sounds like. Can someone order breakfast? With coffee?” Charlotte pleaded. “Lots of coffee?”

“Coming right up.” Nat popped up and strode out of the room to make the order.

Half an hour later, feet still clad in combat boots were propped on the edge of Charlotte’s bed, the smell of coffee filling the air. A cart sat full of discarded, empty dishes near the door. The food was all but devoured the minute it was wheeled into the room. Now that everyone had given up on going back to sleep as the morning stretched on, Calla made a round, refilling everyone’s coffee before taking a seat beside Sam.

“So we get to the source of the tremors, and we find nothing. Nada. Zip. It’s a complete ghost town,” Sam explained. “At first, we thought maybe they took everything underground, or it was cloaked somehow. We ran every scan possible, combed through the whole one hundred mile radius. We found nothing. So we camped out overnight, figured we’d do the same thing the next day.”

“We reviewed the initial reports of seismic activity, and sure enough, we were at the exact coordinates.” Nat shrugged. “It seemed like a fluke, somehow the coordinates got skewed. We were positive we missed something, kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, and then…”

“We got the distress signal from SHIELD.” Bucky met Charlotte’s eyes. “The signal that the compound was under attack.”

“That was when we knew it was a decoy.” Steve’s eyes looked pained. “We knew it was an attempt to lure us away, leave it vulnerable. The furthest point away without going off-planet. We were just lucky it wasn’t a trap.”

“So we got the hell out of dodge and came back here.” Nat’s gaze was unfocused, remembering. “We flew back as quickly as we could, we were on the live comm feed with the command center. We heard everything that was going on.”

Charlotte’s blood chilled. They’d listened to everything. Had she sounded like a complete rookie? Her adrenaline had been pumping so strongly, she couldn’t conjure more than a hazy recollection of what she said.

“We didn’t think we would make it in time.” Steve was somber. “We heard you go back, try to extract the information. When they kept counting down and you still hadn’t gotten out…we were still flying over the woods outside the shield. It wouldn’t have been possible for us to get the jet to the landing pad and get out to you, and there was nowhere to land it with all the trees around you.” He glanced at Bucky, who’d set his jaw defiantly. “As you know, Bucky decided to take matters into his own hands.”

Charlotte raised her eyebrows at Bucky, waiting for him to chip in.

“If I would have known saving you would be this demanding of a job, I would have asked for a raise.” His dry tone was nothing new, but for some reason it struck her wrong.

“I don’t remember calling for your help, Sergeant.”

“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’.”

“Gee, thanks, should I replace our next training session with an hour of groveling and falling at your feet? That seems to be the reaction you’re looking for.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I think you’ve done enough falling for a while.” He nodded his head at the wrapped, gauzy mess that was her left leg. Charlotte’s hands curled into fists, gripping her coffee mug so tight the ceramic creaked.

“Anyways,” Natasha cut in pointedly. “We made a note to keep parachutes in every Quinjet from now on, but thankfully, Cap’s shield did the trick this time. We don’t want to lose anyone. We’re a team. A family.” The last word seemed to be directed straight at Bucky, her eyes staring daggers at him, a warning not to be so…Bucky.

“And now you’re caught up.” Sam joined. “Now tell us what we missed, because clearly it was quite a bit.”

Calla raised her eyebrows at Charlotte, grinning. They exchanged a look, debating who should launch into the story first. It was Calla who took over, unable to keep her excitement at bay. She told them about her quiet morning after Sam and the rest of the group left, how she’d gone to get coffee and found Charlotte about to choke out one of the agents. A collective groan came from the group when she told them which one. His ego didn’t exactly fly under the radar in their training sessions, either. She told them about Charlotte’s flying lessons, missing surprisingly few details, and their dinner at her apartment, then the ultimate interruption of the attack.

Calla nodded in agreement, her expression grave as she recalled the moment they had felt the first explosion rock the city. "Charlotte didn't hesitate for a second," she said, her voice tinged with admiration. "It’s like she just…locked in. She took off running before I could even process what was happening, started giving orders the whole way. She’s a natural” Calla gave Charlotte a watery smile. “She made sure everyone had explicit instructions to keep the shields up even if she went down. She flew out not knowing what she’d see or if she’d come back. Everyone is right to call her a hero."

Charlotte winced slightly at the word. It felt unfamiliar, foreign. It wasn’t a good fit. Not when she felt like she’d barely escaped with her life. If it hadn’t been for Bucky, she wouldn’t have. Prick as he might be, he was right. He had saved her. Again.

Bucky remained silent for the most part, his gaze fixed on Charlotte as she and the others watched Calla recount the events. There was a fire in his eyes, a barely contained anger. Had Charlotte glanced over to see it, she might think it was directed at her. A result of her handling the situation poorly, or not acting as he would have. It was Steve, however, that looked over at him, seeing something else entirely. Bucky wasn’t a touchy-feely person, that much was blatantly apparent. That didn’t mean he didn’t feel at all. In fact, he felt more deeply than most people, the love for those he cared about able to blind him at times. As he sat and watched his friend watch the dark-haired girl on the medical bed, he just knew.

His friend was utterly blinded by what he was feeling. Nat raised her mug. “To Charlotte Rossi, Mockingbird, Avenger of the Avengers.” A chorus of agreement sounded around the room, mugs clinking in the air.

“To Charlotte.”

#james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x oc #avengers #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #winter soldier #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan #winter soldier fluff

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afterlifeoftheparty · 9 months

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hiiii!! i just started following you i think recently but i noticed we’re going to the same fob show!!! i hope that’s not creepy, i just think it’s really cool and wild. like charlotte nc of all places.

omg hello!!! no not creepy at all my bff and i will be trading bracelets there if u wanna message me sometime friday to try and find us??

#answered #primarycolorpickle

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sukehiroselei · 8 months

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hiiii!! for the fanfic writer ask game could u do 40 59 and 60? :D

Hello anon!

40: If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

First of all, I would cry out of pure happiness, and two, I would love for Operation: Parent Trap to get artwork, specifically the scene where Anya is holding both Yami's and Charlotte's hands while walking through a carnival. Just pure self-indulgence 🙈

59: Does anyone in your personal life know you write fic? if not, would you tell anyone?

Yes! Many people know I write fics, although none of them, not even my boyfriend, have ever read any of my works. I'm way too shy to share them (esp because I'm venturing into smut), although I'm sure if any of them were brave enough to venture through the YamiChar tag on AO3, they'll quickly figure out who I am. lmao 🫣

60: Have you had a writer you admire comment on your fic? What was that like?

Oh my god, yes! A few times, to be honest! I took screenshots and texted my boyfriend about it and basically rode a high for the rest of the week, so yeah. It's awesome.

As a writer, it means a lot when people leave comments, and I truly love reading them. 🤍

Thank you for the ask!! 🥰

#e answers q's #fic writer ask game

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dreamwritesimagines · 1 year

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It’s CMA:)

Sorry for the late reply! I was reading it in pieces throughout the day so I took some notes on what I want to say Lmfao:

* Cherie had such dramatic highs and lows but clover, though mostly low, is waaaaaaay more consistent

* Will Anthony feel like he is also betraying Charlotte for keeping this secret and/or starting their romantic relationship off with a major secret?

* I feel like anthony is going to use the fact that teddy has a crush on Charlotte against clover, like another reason not to like her/her family (jokingly but also he is pathetic sooooo…… lmao)

* Lmao re: whistledown claiming clover charmed Ben: clover charmed him??? With what??? Her glaring and scathing remarks??

* Not going to lie, kids stealing my plants/cutting them/messing them up like what teddy did is a strong reason why I don’t want kids lmao. My plants are my babies. I get that clover loves teddy but I’m not sure I could be that nice LOL

* Omg when people in fake relationship tropes use real events to inspire their fake narrative….. FAVORITE love that

Anyway Ben being such a puppy dog… love to see it

And Anthony and Charlie spending time together and talking a million, and also Charlie thinking Anthony is an innocent sweetheart lmaoooo. How will she feel about his affairs/him being a take? Does she think it’s true or not know what it means? How will she react when she finds out? I wonder if she’ll feel bad about herself or anything, because I bet she would want to think the best of Anthony and these women and not think that he was using them or that his relationships with them were anything but sunshine and butterflies…….. I’m so curious about how that will play out

Anyway love this series as always, love u lots!!

CMA darling hiiii! 😍❤️

Omg please never apologize for that❤️❤️ I'm so exciteeeed! 😍❤️❤️

Absolutely! ❤️ Like, Cherie's whole personality was like an emotional rollercoaster, very dramatic high and lows ❤️ She's overall a very excited person 😂 Clover is more in control of her emotions I think, she had to learn it years and years ago❤️

Anthony knows it's not his place to tell Charlotte about the truth of that engagement but he still feels very guilty about it, he was hoping Benedict would tell her❤️

Lolll can you imagine if Anthony didn't like Teddy just because of that?! 😂

LMAOOO that's a very good point! 😂 The whole ton thinks Clover is this seductress who charmed Benedict away from Lottie while Clover was like either making sarcastic comments or glaring at him most of the time they were around each other 😂

Oh Clover was not happy about that at all😁

I love that trope so muuuch! 😍

He's a cute puppy! ❤️

I actually don't think Charlotte knows what a rake is in detail 😂 Like, she knows he's flirting with women but that's it, considering the era and the fact that she's a member of the "high society" 😁 I feel like she might get a bit insecure when she finds out but Anthony will uh...reassure her pretty well 😏

Love you too darling, thank you so much for this! ❤️❤️❤️

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suitsusboth · 1 year

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Hello, it’s your friendly neighborhood anon again! Thanks so much for replying to my message! I’m so glad you posted chapter 3 of “where the lovelight gleams” and hope you know from the comments how much all of us are enjoying this truly charming, winter wonderland story! Your depiction of Aubrey reminds me of a cross between Stars Hallow and Rhinebeck, NY (not sure if that’s the kind of upstate town you were thinking of?)

So many great gems and one-liners in ch3, but one of my favorites has to be, “This town was magic, she reasoned, it had to be”. Also the text thread between Kate and Michael was on point. We love a supportive BFF! Also the cliffhanger ending was the most exquisite romantic torment/ delayed gratification. I hope Kate gets her movie moment soon?! Oh and the next two parts of the series you mentioned sound intriguing! Particularly the Fran/Michael plot line, which partly reminds me of a storyline on Everwood, did you ever catch that show? Can’t wait for chapter 4, would love to know what Anthony is thinking re Kate!! Thank you for posting! 🥰

omg hiiii! nice to hear from you again. give yourself a pat on the back, because that chapter was only written because of you lmao (i would have gotten around to it but you definitely motivated me!) i didn’t have a word written when you first sent your ask. honestly i’m very surprised people are interested in it lmao 🫢

and wow yes rhinebeck and a couple other places around there were inspo for the town (plus stars hallow bc cmon it is the best small town on tv. Charlotte is definitely Taylor). i just really love the Catskills area of upstate and i hope i get to go sometime this year. i’m glad you liked the update ☺️

it was definitely much longer than i thought it would be lol. I’m having way too much fun incorporating all the characters. michael has a soft spot in my heart (as does frannie — never seen the show you mentioned though, but i’ll do some research!) 🤍 i always imagined him and Kate to be friends so glad i get to have them interact in this fic (tbh knowing me I’m going to make them friends in all my fics, it’s an idea my mind cannot relinquish)

as for this story it’s definitely going to be a happy one, and there will be lots of romantic moments coming up 😌 we’ll also touch on edmunds death and what happened to Anthony but that’s the only angsty part tbh!

coming up: real life awaits kate after her weekend away, but she just stop thinking about that little town and a certain farmer. so maybe she needs to visit again. and again. and maybe all a certain farmer wants for christmas is for her to stay. 🤍✨

#where the love light gleams #asks #☺️☺️☺️

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lotti-lyric · 2 years

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Hiiii, so could i request a match up?

I am pansexuall,Female,intp. I overthink alot of Things and i hate loud noises or loud places.I like to read books and mangas mostly romance.When i am with people i like, i am a extrovert. When i am with strangers, i am more like a introvert.My style is like skater/boy/girl,mixed with gothic. My love language is phisical affection.

I hope these are enough informations.

-Tiniwini⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾

(English is not my first language)

charlotte’s interlude 💗- hi and hello!! sorry about the delay, i hope you enjoy!! you seem so sweet, make sure to take care of yourself!! have a great day!

warnings; overthinking mention, loud noise mention

i match you with…

Momo Yaoyorozu!! (aka Creati)

this!! ^^

she’s always there to help when you’re overthinking, offering logic to help reason with the thoughts

she’s also just there for comfort, reassuring you that it’s just a thought, that everything is going to be ok 💗

she learned how to make noise canceling headphones in case you need them!! if you’re comfortable with it, she’d gently place her hands over your ears and pull you close when things are loud

she’ll never let anything hurt you!! ^

you both trade books frequently, reading them while intertwined together!!

when you’re apart, you’ll leave messages in the margins to each other, for you both to read once it’s returned 💗

“- I enjoy this character’s personality! Their romantic nature and kindhearted aspects made me think of you :) Perhaps we should go on a picnic, as these characters did? Just a thought, darling <3 -“

when you’re feeling more extroverted, she loves to have energetic conversations about mundane things together!

when you’re feeling more introverted, she’s right by your side to make you comfortable in any way she can!! support 100 😩

she loves your aesthetic!! she loves the gothic look you have and would ask you to style her one day!

#bnha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #mha fanfic #bnha hcs #bnha x self insert #bnha matchups #mha x reader #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #mha hcs #bnha fanfic #mha fanfiction #bnha matchup #mha matchups #mha matchup #bnha momo #momo yaoyozoru #bnha yaoyorozu

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what-if-nct · 5 months

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hiiii today's reminder is i love it when I'm in your dreams, it feels like we're in a big subconscious universe together and sometimes we meet each other so that's why we recognise each other even if we've never met. i may have just described nct's concept oops

also I'm kinda unemployed in that i do still have a job but I've been kicked out of my team so I'm in this limbo where it feels like I'm unemployed and i should be enjoying my time off but it's so stressful but anyway. I'm watching friends again and i forgot how much i love the show but then every now and then they say something so incredibly offensive but then before i can get angry Joey does something cute so it's hard to stay mad also I'm most of the way through season two and David schwimmer saves the character with his charm but good lord i need ross to start every scene by stepping on a plug or spilling hot coffee on himself or having his parents call him a disappointment because where the fuck does this man find the audacity

HII, yes it's like we're in the same dream universe and cross over into each other's and we recognize each other strictly off of vibes. I'm sorry to hear that, I can only imagine how stressful it is like it's not definite exactly but you just know. I really hope that you receive a job opportunity within this period of limbo and for things to get easier. I love friends, it's really such a good show and oh isn't that the case for so many 90s and 00s shows. Luckily times have changed but something's in older shows and movies would never fly today. And gosh I am on the I hate Ross bandwagon so hard. Like I can't stand him. And this is horrible timing to say this but I don't care for Chandler either. I'm sorry but Joey, Joey I love and adore Joey. Joey always makes things better Joey and Phoebe are my absolute favorites I just love them so much. Phoebe is me and I am Phoebe we are one. I adore Lisa kudrow so much. And so many people say they don't like Rachel or Carrie from Sex in the City. But I absolutely adore Rachel and her personal growth as a character. She deserves so much better than Ross. Ross didn't deserve her. I've watched friends so much that we were on a break absolutely triggers and enrages me. But yeah if you mix Phoebe & Rachel together that's me. Like if you've seen Sex in the city and you mix Carrie and Charlotte also me. That's another show that did not age well when it comes to political correctness. But I don't expect any of that from 90s\00s shows. Heck even 2 broke girls I love that show and it's a 2010s show but it's also questionable at times but I love it. There's an episode with two Amish boys and Jennifer Coolidge's character that I just think of Jungwoo every time I see it now.

Maybe Sophie represents how I see Jungwoo. Also the puppies part. This is also perhaps questionable I think cause I was around the boys age when I first saw it I didn't see it till now cause I think they were 18 and 19. Yeah it's it kinda weird and it was like 2012\2013

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gomezisabellas · 1 year

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Hiiii! I hope you've been having a good day (or had a good day depending when you see this) so I would love to learn a little more about your current muses. which one are your favorites and can you tell me a little about them? Do you have any muses that are fandom or are they all oc? xoxo ss

so sorry this is answered so late, getting out of bed this week has been a battle. but unto my ocs, almost all of my muses except for one are fandomless! i don’t tend to like writing in fandom that much for some reason, although i think i’d like to get into that somewhat with some of my favorite shows. and as for my current muses, i currently have no self control so i have 77 muses at the moment. you can view all of them in the source link at my indie blog!

picking favorites is so hard so this is gonna be so long i am sorry. my current faves would probably have to be astrid harlowe, kamala srinivasan, aurelia de la rosa, nasrin kazi, bash guerra, josie franklin, nevaeh porter, jason palmer, charlotte gregison, and andrea matthews. under the cut i’ll put small little blurbs about each of them but you can also click the links in the source link to view their full stats and bio! trigger warnings for drunk driving, car accidents, suicide, death, depression, bullying. if missed any, please let me know.

astrid harlowe / alisha boe fc — she was born astrid noor but was abandoned by her mother and then put into foster care. she was eventually adopted by a famous and wealthy family which seemed like a dream come true until she learned the truth, they adopted her to rehabilitate their image and make sure this story got out before the negative ones. she grew up shy and polite because she didn’t want to step out of line and make the family look bad. she got pregnant at 16 and her parents sent her to a “troubled teens” program which traumatized her. when she came back, her adoptive parents were dismissive about her experience so she grabbed a flash drive and copied all of their secrets into it and is now just sitting around waiting for revenge.

kamala srinivasan / simone ashley fc — a nepo baby who was only ever praised for her looks so she never really tried to venture outside of that, despite having things of value to say. while she was a teenager, she became a sitcom actress on a disney channel show and the media kind of painted her as the “bimbo” character. she leaned into it because what else was she gonna do. soon after, she launched a singing career but was constantly met with pushback whenever she put her own input in and was forced to continue to put out vapid music she didn’t connect with.

aurelia de la rose / alexa demie fc — another nepo baby, kind of. her parents were both super wealthy and famous and had a nasty divorce. for whatever reason, the media and the paparazzi thought it was appropriate to delve into aurelia’s life and her parents didn’t really mind. they often put her in the middle of their fights and one day, she decided she had had enough. so she started acting out in front of the cameras, becoming the wild party girl. but in reality, she was sad. because the only reason her parents ever paid attention to her was when she was in the headlines for the wrong reasons. she uses this persona to fill a void but it’s all temporary.

nazrin kazi / mishti rahman fc — nasrin grew up in a very small town in minnesota with a speech impediment called rhotacism, which meant that she couldn’t pronounce some words with the letter r. she was severely bullied for this and this led her to become somewhat of a chronically online person, turning to tumblr and twitter to talk about her interests instead. this led her to become hugely involved in music and specifically, one direction. when in college, she double majored in speech pathology and music marketing, but ultimately went into speech therapy, in part because of how much her speech therapist helped her. she loves baking, fashion, karaoke, one direction, hiking, doing puzzles, and scrapbooking.

bash guerra / froy gutierrez fc — literally the sunshine love of my life. he grew up the oldest of six other siblings and was often the one to help raise them while his parents were working. while some people might resent this upbringing, bash loved it and this is where his nurturing nature was honed. when he was in high school, he got involved in the theatre club and subsequently got involved in community theatre, in order to make a little extra money,.during one of these performances, he was scouted by an agent and he moved to los angeles, albeit a little reluctantly away from his family, at the age of 18. unfortunately, while he was out in los angeles, one of his younger brothers took his own life and bash couldn’t help but feel it was his fault for leaving. this led him to having a savior complex of sorts, trying to save everyone else because he couldn’t save his brother.

josie franklin / halle bailey fc — josie is perfect. at least, that’s what she wants you to think. she was brought up by a pastor and a homemaker, and it was always drilled into her head that image was everything. and the expectations they put on her made her feel like she could never truly live up to them. but boy, did she try. instead of rebelling, josie tried to be perfect. josie always tried to be the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the perfect friend, the perfect sister, the perfect everything. but she was never praised by her parents for doing well, they only told her how to be better which prompted her to think that nothing she ever did was truly enough. but instead of wallowing in that she took it as a motivation to do better, to get closer to perfection. but as she grew older, cracks started to show. it was gradual at first. biting her nails when she was nervous but then she started biting her nails all of the time. while she was applying for colleges, she ended up deferring all of her acceptances and hiding it from her parents. when they found out, they kicked her out of the house and since then, she’s been on a journey to figure out who she is without her parents’ expectations.

nevaeh porter / salem mitchell fc — nevaeh was the kind of kid that talked a lot. maybe too much, depending on who you asked. she talked about a mile a minute and would talk about anything and everything. she was emotionally vulnerable and open to people. but as she grew older, what some people might see as a gift, ended up hurting her the most. she wore her heart on her sleeve just for it to get ripped off. she got bullied but in very subtle ways. telling her the boy she had a crush on liked her just for her to ask him out and have him reject her in front of everyone because how could anyone like her. this led her to becoming shy and turning to other things instead of people. namely, painting and plants. because when she was painting, she could be as messy as she wanted without anyone telling her that she was too much and she could talk to plants and trees for hours without them telling her she was talking too much.

jason palmer / jordan fisher fc — jason was born to parents who didn’t think he was going to happen for them. he also had an adopted brother who was around his same age, so they referred to one another as twins. he ended up living in the shadow of his twin, who was funnier and smarter and got more attention from his parents. and they were both involved in theatre, but while his twin got the lead, jason was stuck playing background characters or trees. he got comfortable in the shadows, the darkness. even though he was delegated to the shadows, they became his home in some twisted way/ jason is the king of biting his tongue and just putting his head down and doing the work.

charlotte gregison / dove cameron fc — charlotte gregison was born on a commune in san francisco by two hippie parents. the commune was all about community, free love, freedom of expression, acts of service, and liberation. a common thing she heard was that love was at the core of everything. her parents raised her somewhat isolated from traditional media, only allowing her to watch things that they approved of. this meant no disney fairytales or anything of the sort. it was mostly just bob ross and sesame street. she was homeschooled up until the age of eight when she went to public school for the first time. it was definitely a bit of a culture shock for her. at nine she was invited to her first sleepover where she saw her first disney move and fell in love with the fairytale. soon after, she also fell in love with a different kind of fairytale, the romcom. charlotte is the kind of girl who wears rose colored glasses and is in love with love.

andrea matthews / katie stevens fc — andrea and michelle matthews were born two minutes apart from one another. michelle was born first and never let andrea forget it. they were born to two parents who passed their love of soccer down to the two and the twins were naturally gifted. the twins played soccer together, just like they did everything else together. in high school, they were co-captains of the varsity soccer team despite being only being sophomores. during the summer of their sophomore year, a drunk driver came out of nowhere and sent the car spinning out of control until it hit a tree that pierced through the window of the car and into michelle’s heart. losing michelle made andrea feel like she was losing a piece of herself, like half of herself was gone. andrea tried to put on a good front because no one wanted to see the sad girl, they wanted to see the phoenix rising from the ashes. her team told her to take her time and come back when she was ready, but that unfortunately never happened. after high school, andrea turned to music instead of soccer to deal with her feelings of loss around michelle.

#rphservergifts #asks #anonymous

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