#now i have to draw one for alex *sobs* | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gentlyweeps-world · 4 months

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Hi , I have this request If you comfortable with

The reader was self harming herself before she met the drivers but she stopped do that

And the drivers discover that she was self harming herself but she thinks that they are disgusted by her scars and she try to leave but them block her way out and she breaks out and started sobbing while them say that everything will be okay and after that they got a marker and started to draw stars on her scars

Could you do that with Alex ; max or charles

And if you are uncomfortable with that feel free to ignore this request

Marking Stars

• Thank you for the request! For the future I am okay writing these types of fics, I had gone through something similar, but I have moved on and healed from it! This is a platonic! alex albon x reader, warnings for self harm.

———

It had first happened years ago, the stress and pressure had been too much for you. The only relief? Slitting your wrists.

You had to have only been what, 14? 15? And now you’re 25, cycling back to the same thing.

It was your home race, your team was counting on you, your fans were counting on you. You were counting on yourself.

And of course you had crashed out, of course that happened. Your thoughts consume you, doubts, worries and insecurities.

Post race interviews weren’t any better, the subtle jab of sexism and “do you think you truly belong here?”.

It was frequent, it only grew after your team announced your contract was ending this year, f1 gossip accounts grew with speculations.

The hate had grown, your anxiety worsened. Many of the drivers had picked up on it, it was a sudden change from your usual attitude.

It hurt pushing away those you were close with, Alex, Charles and Max. Those were your guys, the ones you truly cared for.

But it was probably better you pushed them away, you didn’t want to taint their success.

You let out a sob, gliding the blade against your wrist once more, just pressing down enough to break the skin, but not leave a heavy scar.

It was only hours after the race, you were back in the comfort of your hotel room, pressed up against the door to the bathroom as you hurt yourself, seeking relief.

Unknowingly to you, Max, Alex and Charles had talked earlier, agreeing that someone had to talk to you, to see what was truly wrong.

They agreed it had to be Alex, he could calm someone down the best and make them feel comfortable and relaxed. He had the wisdom of Lily behind him too.

You didn’t hear your hotel room door open, you didn’t hear the footsteps or asking of your name. “Y/n? Are you in there?” You could hear Alex ask, knocking on the bathroom door.

You let out a gasp, blade flying from your hand as you scramble to your feet and quickly wipe the tears from your face.

“Yeah- yeah I’m in here..” You weakly reply, outstretching a shaky hand you open the door to the bathroom, revealing you to Alex.

You could see his eyes take in your state, messy hair, red puffy eyes, and blood slowly dripping down your wrist.

It was known you only ever really wore long sleeves if possible, if you couldn’t a jacket or cardigan would be on you.

Now he knew why, from the years of knowing you since karting, he wouldn’t have known you had been suffering so much alone.

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry Alex, you don’t need to see this- “ You sob out, trying to push past him and get out of the bathroom, which now feels like it’s suffocating you.

He gently wraps his arms around you, keeping you close to him as you sob. “I’m sorry..I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve this..” You say, tears flowing as you try to pull away from him. “My scars are disgusting..I’m sorry Alex..”

Alex doesn’t say anything, he just keeps you wrapped in his arms. “It’s okay Y/n..it’ll be okay” He says softly, gently patting you on your back.

“And your scars- they aren’t ugly or disgusting..” He says, trying his best to calm you.

“Trust me Y/n, everything will be okay..this is just something you have to get over..” He says, moving so you can look up at him, “You have so many people here for you who are willing to listen and help you for what you’re going through, you aren’t alone, you don’t deserve to suffer alone..” He says, hands on your shoulders as he looks at you with a reassuring smile.

You don’t say anything to him, instead you simply nod your head and wipe at the tears flowing down your face. Alex takes one more look at you before he grabs your hand and leads you to the hotel kitchen area.

“What are you..?” You ask softly, watching him move around and try to look for something. You hear a faint “Aha!”, then he walks over with a black sharpie, paper towel and bandaid.

He try’s his best to soak up the blood and wipe it off your hand, then he gently places the bandaid over your scar.

“What are you doing with the marker?” You ask, just watching him move around and do his thing.

He lets out a soft hum, before uncapping the marker and starting to draw small stars around or on your scars.

You stare down at his hands as he does this, warmth filling your body at the thoughtful gesture, but Alex was always like that.

“Just to show you how much of a star you truly are”

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stardewstardropthoughts · 1 year

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Hmmm... How would the bachelors react to F!Farmer going into labor/delivering their baby?

Ah man labour is a time and a half lol I’m gonna write this as like vag birth not c section just because it’ll be a bit easier to write that way, no hate on c sections obvi though, I had one lol. all births are valid! No birth discourse on my page please

Harvey:

He doesn’t like seeing you in pain

When labour first began he was timing the contractions and helping you walk around in-between or gently rocking with you back and forth, whatever you wanted

When they got to three to five minutes apart he’s helping you get to his office, offers you pain relief if you want it

Will have maru there to wipe sweat off your face, grab blankets, whatever you need

When it comes time to push he really wants to hold your hand but he also has to do his job has doctor and catch your child so maru more then likely holds your hand if you want her too

He’s sobbing when your baby’s born, a beautiful 8lb 10 oz baby girl with Harvey’s eyes and your hair colour

Lays her on your chest for skin to skin while you deliver the placenta and all but sobs at what a cute picture the two of you are, even if your hairs all matted down with sweat and your face is red from pushing

Loves his little family

Elliott:

It was probably like 1 in the morning and your water had just broken

You didn’t wanna panic your husband but also your literally in labour right now and there’s fluid all over the floor and your pants

You wake him up and he’s immediately out of the bed gathering the bags and making sure you have everything you need while you change into dry pants and a very thick pad

Man pretty much bangs Harvey’s door down

Harvey expected it though, being your primary care and all, offers you pain meds if you want them

You decide to get the epidural, Elliott almost gags watching since a needle in the spine doesn’t look comfy but god do you enjoy the pain relief

You get to have a few extra hours to nap while he paces nervously until it’s time to push

After about three hours of pushing you have a beautiful baby boy who weighs 7lb 5oz and has Elliott’s hair and eyes and your nose

Elliott could write a whole book on the emotions he’s feeling but he chooses to spend his time snuggling with you and your child

Alex:

Early on you decided you wanted a home birth so y’all have a dedicated room in the house for when it’s go time

Literally your water broke at the worst time, you were out weeding the fields dispite Alex desperately trying to get you to rest when suddenly there was a small gush of fluid going down your legs

Rip your overalls because now it looks like you peed your pants, you waddle your way back to the farmhouse and inform your husband who’s immediately drawing you a nice bath to wash the dirt off and clean up before having the baby

Calls Harvey while you’re in the bath and Harvey rushes over

Your on the bed in the birthing room currently trying to breath through contractions while Alex massages your back

He’s holding your hand while you push, he assured you he won’t be mad if you squeeze to tight or yell at him

After all is said and done you have a beautiful baby girl, weighing 9lbs 7oz (he was a big baby, you cursed at him a little while pushing out your daughter)

Sam:

Panic

Will offer to carry you to Harvey’s office (he will drop you accidentally, so you opt to walk lol)

Asking Harvey a million questions a minute, how many babies has he delivered, how much will it hurt, what do you think the baby’s eye color will be

You opt for pain meds and he passes out watching the epidural get placed

He wakes up a few minutes later to maru putting a cold cloth on his head lol, gets to sit in a chair and hold your hand while you push out the infant

You guys have a beautiful baby boy who weighs 6lbs 7oz, he’s small but he’s perfect and he has your hair and Sams eyes

Sams crying just a little bit while he cuts the umbilical cord, maru rats him out to you

Sebastian:

On the outside he’s very calm and collected while grabbing the baby bag, making sure your comfy for the trip to Harvey’s and making sure everything’s ready

On the inside? His brains screaming at him, panic and worry are a constant through the whole experience

He’s secretly glad maru is there to support him and you both even if it is just with wet cloths and breathing exercises

Harvey offers pain relief, you opt out cause needles in the spine sound absolutely terrifying to you

He’s rubbing your back, holding your hand, brushing your hair back out of your face, praising you for how well your doing

When the infant is born it’s a bit of a shock for you both since you end up with twins! Thank god for being over prepared and bringing like five different sets of clothes for baby

One beautiful baby boy who weighs 6lbs 1oz and one beautiful baby girl who weighs 5lbs 5oz, Sebastian is sobbing fully

Maru is calling robin to tell her to build a second crib lol

Shane:

Was probably half asleep when you woke him up to tell him your water broke and your in labour

Another home birth, you wanted a home water birth so he’s immediately up and filling the birthing pool while you call Harvey and waddle around getting undressed from the bottom down and into the pool of warm water

He will get in with you if you ask him to he doesn’t care how gross it’s gonna get, the only thing on his mind is how he can best support you through this

He’s rubbing your shoulders, your back, asking what he can do for you, if you need a drink or anything

When it comes time to push he’s holding your hand and helping you breath through it

You have a beautiful baby girl who weighs 7lbs 8oz and has Shane’s eyes and your hair

He’s smitten with her immediately and is sobbing over the little family you’ve created with him, he never thought he was worthy of any of this but now he’s here and he has it and it’s amazing to him

dresses her in a little onesie with cartoon chickens all over it, cannot wait to bring her around to meet everyone

#stardew fanfic #stardew valley #stardew farmer #stardew x reader #stardew headcanon #stardew marriage #stardew elliott #stardew harvey #stardew sam #stardew sebastian #stardew shane #stardew alex #stardew maru #sdv bachelors

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woso-lover · 9 months

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My heart is numb, has no feelings | Sydney Lohmann

Sydney Lohmann x reader

Summary: Comforming Sydney after she put soul and heart into the game, but it wasn't enough.

English is not my first language

Masterlist

A/n: Is a bit rushed, 'cause I'm still heartbroken

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You couldn't believe it. No one could. Germany is out of the World Cup. A dream of yours destroyed. How you wished you hadn't injured yourself against Columbia. If you didn't, you would be on have been on the pitch, maybe making a difference. But this was not case. It was a historical moment and maybe the fall of Germany.

The game started without the luck for Germany. In the 6th minute South Korea score the leading goal. A shock to everyone. The whome time you had Waru by your side as you sat next to your girlfriend, Sydney, on the bench. You hoped he would give you luck abd dammn it did. The 42th minute Alex Popp shot a header. 1:1 Germanys is in. The bench jumped up. You quickly glanced to the big screen in the stadium, but the camera wasn't on you. So you kissed your girlfriend, before she could jump up to Laura.

Everthing was fine until you went to the changing rooms. The smile quickly turned away, when everyone git told that Marroco was leading 1:0. Now Germany needs a win. And the tension was there again. The pressure of winning. To not let history repeat itself from 2018 with men team. To not also fall down like them, in a big hole. To not be a part of the big tragedy of german football.

When you returned on the pitch and were about to sit down you looked at your teammates. Fear, nervousness, tension were the things you could see in their faces. And with that Germany went trought the game playing poorly. After a few minutes into the second half your coach came up to Sydney and told to warm-up.

The 57th minute, Popp put the ball in the net with her head but laid down injured. In the end it was offside. So still out of the World Cup.

The moment Sydney stood besides the coach with Lena Lattwein you could see the feeling from the pitch went now also to her. You just watched her waiting to get subbed in. The moment you found the right words, she ran off to the pitch.

The time was ticking and ran against Germany. And you watched with horror as there seemed no chance for Germany to score a second goal. South Korea defened very well. No chance to break trought. It started to feel like Germany lost hope. But not your girlfriend Sydney. She tried over and over again. She didn't want it to end.

Then 9 minutes of stoppage time. But the South Korean played on time. Their goalkeeeper stayed on the ground for a long time. The player got injured. They did everything to let it be a draw. But as soon as Germany had the ball they shoot and shoot and shoot at the goal. Hegering and Sydney win the ball by duels. But the last action didn't work out. A few times even Sydney tried it by herself. But the ball wouldn't go in. After an offensive foul from Lea Schüller to win the ball back. The ref whistle her whistle.

For a moment you couldn't move. It still felt so unreal. You looked to your right seeing Laura on verge of crying. The next you looked to your front, meeting the eyes of your bestfriend, Lena Oberdorf, who tried to cry. Then you were searching for yor girlfriend. You stood up, trying to hide your tears, looking for Sydney. After a few seconds you found her perched and hiding under her jacket.

"Syd..." You whispered while carefully tuching her shoulder. She looked up at you. And you swore you would have break down. The way she looked at you. Tears streaming down her face, checks red and sobbing. You helped her to get up and to put her jacket on. Then you put her into a hug. With that Sydney fully broke down and sobbed into your shoulder and neck. You were also about to break down, but you knew you needed to be strong for her.

"I-I..." You hushed her down and put your hands on her checks.

"You did everything you could, Schatz. In the end you were the only one who tried and was brave, Syd. I'm proud of you because you played incredible. You gave your heart and soul into the game." You gave her a kiss on the forehead. "But sometimes it's not enough." You stopped speaking. Tears running down your own face.

"Thank you" Sydney whispered before hiding her face in your neck.

After while Martina, your coach, gathered everyone in a circle and spoke a speech. To be honest you don't even know now anymore what she told you. You were more busy holding your girlfriend, trying not to break down yourself and looking at everyones sad faces.

And this wasn't even the hardest part yet. You also needed to go trought the reporter. You were happy nobody sent Sydney in there. But they were meaner then this and put the two youngest up to the Interviews.

Everyone was a bit happy when they arrived at the hotel. It seemed like they all came down a bit. And everyone went to their rooms in silent. When you arrived your room next to Sydneys you quickly grabbed a short and shirt to wear for bed and change into it. You knocked on Sydneys door to let her know someones about to enter. When you opened the door you saw her laying in her bed, already changed. She didn't look up to the door. You stayed silent and made your way to the bed, laying next to her. Her eyes were closed but you knew she didn't sleep. You lead her head to your chest and running a hand through her hair. You know doing this will alsways help.

"I love you" She whispered and you smiled. "And it's not your fault that you didn't play today. The columbians played very dirty. I'm just happy you're okay and it's nothing serious" She added her eyes still closed enjoying the moment.

You opened your mout to say anything but Sydney already talked again knowing what you were about to say. "Don't. Do not find the guilt now by yourself, Liebling" Sydney said leaving no room for an argument. You just sighed and closed your eyes too. Trying to find some sleep.

"And by the way you didn't say 'I love you too'" Sydney mumbled into your neck.

A chuckle left your lips. "I love you too"

With that both of you trying to find some sleep in each others arms.

#woso x reader #sydney lohmann x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso #dfb frauen #dfb team #sydney lohmann #fcb frauen #fc bayern frauen

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fanaticsnail · 2 months

Text

Despiértame mi Corazon

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 3,454

(Image Source: Actor: Alex Pettyfer + @fanaticsnail's dodgy photo editing skills)

Synopsis: You have been on the run from Donquixote Doflamingo, sheltering and caring for a young, sick child. Your emotions catch up with you as you process the change your life has led you to. You’ve left it all: family, career, friends - all to support Rosinante in his quest to cure the boy. Upon seeing you in this state, your Corazon will do anything to see you smile again.

Themes: mutual pining, sickness, love, Rosi is a daddy, Rosi is a sweetheart, idiots in love, friends to lovers, Trafalgar Law is a child, baby Law is an edge-lord, angst, crying, hurt/comfort, dancing, Rosi is a dork, sad ending (I’m sorry), Dance reference link here.

Notes: This is a gift for @writingmysanity. You get two Cora fics, because we both need it. The other, more happy one, is coming soon, sweety!!

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @cinnbar-bun @vespidphoenix @i-am-vita @sexc-snail I don't know if you guys like Corazon, but I hope this convinces you to love him.

Song Suggestion: “Wake Me Up” - Postmodern JukeBox

The air carrying the tide towards your feet felt as thick and heavy as the encumbering weight on your heart. Frozen remnants of falling snow stuck to your cheeks, your eyelashes collecting a small amount of dust to coat your follicles in the crisp breeze. Aside from the peace found in momentary stasis, your mind was racing and your soul screaming for release.

Trafalgar D Water-Law was dying. The boy you took under your wing, the child you cared for, the adolescent who held your heart in his hands was dying. He was not going to make it without consuming the Op-Op Fruit, a cruel reality that had finally caught up with you.

You were so close. So unbelievably close to getting his cure - his fate balancing on the edge of a knife in the steely grasp of Donquixote Doflamingo. A cure like this was not something that would be gifted freely, both you and Rosinante knew this for a fact. There was no amount of convincing, scheming, bribing, groveling, or begging you could do to gather this cure for the sickly child you both loved. It needed to be claimed by force, and claimed now.

Finding solace in the small moment you carved aside, you allowed yourself the luxury of hot tears rolling down your cheeks: consumed by the grief in the dire situation you found yourself within. You were simply unable to carry the weight of these harsh and raw emotions any longer. What began as a small sniff through your nose quickly and quietly escalated into soft sobs. As the sorrow was released, you felt the weight grow heavier in your heart and expand to encumber your chest.

Drawing up your knees and cradling them against you, you turned your head away from the shack as your shoulders shook with each whimpered sob. You desperately hoped to any deity that was listening that you were far enough away from your home for the night to hold your sobs in silence, not alerting or disturbing your two companions as they lay in slumber.

Stalking slowly towards you, aided in silence by his devil-fruit abilities, Donquixote Rosinante was approaching you in your sorrow. His hand stuttered forward, wanting desperately to place it down on your shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze in consoling your release of your emotions.

He, himself, knew this feeling, and he knew this feeling well. Giving into his feelings a few weeks earlier, while drinking a vast amount of sake straight from the bottle. He felt helpless in the overwhelming devastation that currently held the three of you hostage. Desperate to provide you comfort, although not desiring to give you a touch you were not expecting, he halted his movement from descending upon your shoulders.

Retracting his extended hand away from you, he stumbled backwards towards the shack to check in on the sleeping Trafalgar Law. Clambering up the steps, he looked over the peaceful form of the boy nestled up in his blankets to keep warm in the cool night. Noticing the fluttering rise and fall in his chest, the subtle wheeze extending and catching in his throat, he felt the return of helplessness overcome his body.

Turning away from the child, his fingers absentmindedly brushed against the surface of the steely frame of his radio, flicking on the valve to wake its static call. He began turning the knobs, seeking out a whisper of a song to drown out his circulating devastation and distract himself with.

The rustling static did nothing to wake Law from his rest, but did alert you of the fact Rosinante was awake and skulking around. Hastily drying your tears with the inner sleeve on your wrist, you ensured you were the very picture of positivity should the leader of your expedition join you in the cool air outside the shack.

Your relationship with the younger Donquixote brother was complicated.

Pledging your undying loyalty under pain or death to Doflamingo in your youth, your proximity to the younger brother had you develop the swell of infatuation with him. Through the years, your heart always had a soft simmer threatening to rapidly boil towards the surface. He was quiet, he was calm, his skills as a fighter were a privilege to behold in battle, and it was an honor to fight beside him.

Under the orders of the older Donquixote brother, you had done terrible things that required atonement to cleanse your hands of it. As you were both introduced to the young child who wished for death to claim him, you both became as hardened as the other to force the will to live upon him in repentance for your transgressions.

Watching Rosinante take the lead in Law’s care, your infatuation rose once again: a rise which prompted you to cast aside your loyalty to Doflamingo and aid ‘Corazon’ in the task of betraying him. You were in exile, hiding while searching for a cure for the boy that you only now learnt were in the clutches of the very hands you were attempting to flee from.

You loved him. You loved watching the lanky man fawning over the sickly boy. It had your heart soar and fly ever higher. The way he loved with his whole heart had a ripple effect, prompting you to open your own heart to love both of them even more. When Rosinante displayed his heart, it was worn on his sleeve and given unconditionally. And when you saw this love for others, it made you long to be a recipient of such devotion.

The rise in static volume prompted you to turn around, glancing at the looming figure exiting the door of the shack, a radio within his hands. He placed it on the wooden frame lining the porch and gestured for you to come over to him with a subtle sway of his hands. You offered him a soft, melancholy smile and rose to your feet from the cool sand beneath you.

No words were spoken as you approached him, keeping your head bowed from him as the static crackled and roared to life. A familiar tune from your youth rose in the speakers, your smile broadening as the lyrics shepherded you into a gentle sway.

Rosinante’s outstretched hand flitted fluidly down to you, a small bob in his head indicating for you to place your hand within his own. You returned this gesture with your eyes closed and shaking your head in disbelief at his invitation. He smiled, reaching forward his other hand down and claiming your unoccupied hand and began swaying you to the beat.

“What are you doing, Rosinante?” you slowly hummed your question up at him, brow twitching up in intrigue. His warm smile pulled you in, alongside the slow shimmied-shake of his arms with your own.

“We’re dancing,” he confessed with a rumbled chuckle, his toes accidentally colliding with your own: both flinching at the contact. He shook his head, adding to his answer, “I stand corrected: we’re trying.”

Although the mood was filled with sorrow, the sway of Rosinante’s awkward movements had your smile rising up your cheeks and eyes drying of their prior downpour. A small swell in your heart at his attempt to make you smile had your cheeks begin to pull upwards by the smallest smile you could muster.

Everything about the way he danced with you was stiff, awkward and rigid: a memory rising in both your minds of earlier in your youth springing forward.

“You remember when we first danced together?” Rosinante asked you, his painted lips attempting to hold back a toothy grin. You giggled at him, ushering his body to spin in your arms and gently twirled his body. The dark feathers tickled your skin, a sneeze rising in your nose in response to the subtle brush from the inky follicles.

“I remember it being about as ah-... ah-... ahh-...!” you sneezed, shaking your shoulders as you turned away from him to save him from the spray. He chuckled as you recovered from your sneeze, continuing, “-As awkward as this one. You didn’t have your feather coat then, either.”

“Oh, right!” Rosinante laughed, twirling his body away from yours and removing his feathered overcoat from its place on his shoulders, casting it over the wooden frame beside the speaker. “Alright now, where were we?” His pink shirt dipped in his chest, the subtle rise of his lungs and exposure of soft skin tempted a warm flush to rise in your cheeks. You shook your head to rid yourself of such thoughts about your friend, recovering enough to plaster a small smile on your face.

Swaying your hips and tapping your toes against the ground, you skillfully twirled your body to rejoin your hands within his. He gleefully laughed at your gesture, his own hips swaying to the beat and rocking his shoulders as the rhythm picked up. His knees were unpracticed and unskilled in this artform, but his enthusiasm overtook his inability to dance.

Twirling his body away from you, he clapped his hands and began stomping his feet lightly on the floorboards. He tapped twice more before kneeling himself down on one knee, his other leg arched into a deep lunge in front of him. He placed his right hand on his hip, rising his left above his head and brandished it with a playful flourish.

“Oh, we’re doing this one, are we?” your tone picked up, your brow arching on your forehead as you leant forward to claim his left hand within your right, “You remember how I tripped over your lanky legs when I did this last time,” you smiled, circling his body and hopping yourself over his calf lying flat behind him.

“I do,” he chuckled in return, following your movement with the lull of his head. His smile rose further as you playfully watched him from the corner of your eye. “You remember how we recovered, though? What we did to balance out the dance?”

“Yes, Corazon,” you half-laughed, half-sighed, as you recalled how the evening progressed, “We drowned ourselves in several bottles of sake and laughed at our own idiocy.” Rosinante shook his head, rising to his feet after releasing your hand from within his.

“No, mi amor,” he whispered, placing his hands on your hips and swaying you from behind, “I meant this.” He turned you within his arms, raking his hands over your hips, hands circling over your waist and holding you firmly against his torso. You hooked your arms over his shoulders behind your head, shepherding him to embrace you further while swaying to the rhythm.

Rosinante pressed his cheek against your own, your eyes instinctively fluttering closed as you felt the rise in his grin on your skin. His breath tickled the nape of your neck, you breathing along to his rhythmic pattern with each passing moment.

You felt all of your worries cast themselves aside each moment he held you in his arms, all anguish and melancholy passing from your body and reigned within his embrace. The pressure of his own sorrows fled from him and onto you, the sharing of the emotional labor departed each of you in this moment to simmer and smother between you.

“Why were we dancing again?” you whispered to him, your lips almost making contact with the shell of his ear. You felt him shudder against your touch, instinctively pressing your back further against his chest and nuzzling into your neck.

Spinning in his arms, his hands tugging at your shifting shirt as you turned to face him, his eyes widened as he sought out his answer to you. Humming thoughtfully, he finally located his answer in his memory.

“I think it was Doffy’s birthday, or celebrating a raid on some unfortunate-,” Rosinante began, halted by you pulling away and glancing into his eyes.

“-I mean now, mi corazon,” you floated your eyes between his, looking for rhyme or reason within his steely orbs, “Why are we dancing now?” He stuttered in his sway, freezing like a fainting goat being startled by a loud sound.

“Y-You called me-...” his breath caught in his throat, lips parting as he floated his gaze between your own eyes, briefly caught in gazing longingly against your lips. “You called me ‘mi corazon’, mi amor.” He held you in silence, his heart swelling and adrenaline urging his body against his will to surge forward.

The air was tense, the deafening silence being broken only by the smooth rise in melody from the radio beside you. His eyes softened more, wordlessly asking you a question with his lips quivering and eyes frantically darting between your own.

A small nod from him, answered by a nod of your own was all the answer he needed to join his lips with yours, softly molding himself to your lips and breathing in your air.

The world came crashing down around you, the realms of unanswered questions from your youth were retorted by the soft lips of Donquixote Rosinante’s pressed against your own. You squeaked against his lips, eyes wide and watching as, his were closed with his brows furrowing in deepest concentration. He hissed in a breath through his nose, turning his head by the angle of his chin to deepen the embrace.

Raking his hands up from your hips, he claimed fistfuls of your shirt in his needy grasp. He whimpered against your lips, prompting you to reciprocate his passionate kiss. You felt his heart, his spirit and his worries pass from his body into yours further. This intimate and wordless confession had your heart racing at the impossibilities that brought you here.

Slowly pulling your hands from his shoulders, you slid them down his neck and grasped the embroidered pink collar of his shirt and pushed him back towards the railing. As his beck hit the hard, wooden pillar, he gasped into your mouth and desperately clawed at you to hold you firmer. Angling his head away, he pressed lengthy kiss after kiss against your lips, cheeks and chin: a trail marked by his pink lip-paint.

“I want you,” he whispered against your lips, hovering them above your own before pressing his own against yours twice more, “I want us. I want all of us-.” He peppered your cheeks with lengthy kisses, the smear of his lip paint rubbing against your skin and tinting your flesh. “-The three of us. I want to be our own family: go where we want to go, wherever our hearts take us. I want to forge a life with you and that kid.”

“What are you saying-?” you whimpered for him, your hands claiming his cheeks within them and ushering his face away from yours. He groaned, leaning forward and claiming your lips beneath his own before fully allowing you to push him away.

“I want to adopt Law,” he continued, his hand rising to your hair and caressing your scalp, “You already mother him, fawn over him and treat him like your own.” Your hand flew to his hair as he pressed a long kiss against your neck, “I want to do this, and I want to do this with you, mi amor. I want to marry you, to be yours and you to be mine.”

“I want us to be happy, mi amor,” he concluded, a melancholy smile finding his cheeks as he dipped his brow down to seek out your eyes, “I will have you smile again: a smile mirrored between the three of us.” He pressed a gentle kiss against your brow, adding a muffled, “Three against the world.”

The shock of it all happening at once held you in momentary silence. Feeling the pull to confess your own adoration and wants for the future onto him, your lips formed words before you could withhold them in your throat.

“When this nightmare is all over,” you gasped, tugging at his blond locks to subtly weave him away from your neck to look in your eyes. “When we wake up from the darkness,” you slowly caressed his cheek, your thumb finding his bottom lip and attempting to press the paint within the boundaries of his lip line, “I want all of that with you, mi corazon.”

At your confession, Donquixote Rosinante’s heart soared for you and his tears began to prick at the corners of his eyes. He truly didn’t know those words were needed to grace his ears and soothe his mind, but so thankful you formed them.

He loved you from the moment he met you all those years ago. The urge to protect you from the evil his brother ushered into the world was so strong, he nearly broke the mask he made while infiltrating the crew. Seeing you hold your own against them, your skill in combat ushering a swift death to those who opposed you with mercy had him swooning at your kindness amongst the brutality.

“Te amo, mi corazon,” you whispered, your lips again hovering over his own, “I always have, and I should’ve acted on it sooner. I just got caught up with the mission, with loving our child. You are doing such a good job with him, I want you to know that.” You soothed over his blond hair, brushing your nose against his while confessing your admiration further, “I love you, and I love Law so, so much-.”

Surging forwards, the contact he made with your lips was wet: the stale aftertaste of his last cigarette was eclipsed by the salty tears falling over his lips. He didn’t know when his tears started to fall, nor did you grasp when your own intertwined with his against your lips. You laughed against his lips, feeling the lingering tingle of affection spark and ignite in your chest. He swooned for you, raking desperately at your body to hold you as close as he could without breaking through the material of your clothes.

You broke away from his lips, gazing into his eyes with nothing but pure adoration and love. His own unspoken confession lingered in the air, the atmosphere tense and swollen with the lust-stricken adrenaline. The spark of the adoration tinting your eyes surged his confession forward, his words clumsily jumbled over his lips.

“Mi tesoro, mi amor, mi familia,” he whimpered for you, his voice stuttering and stumbling over his words as he stooped down to you, “Te amo-... I-I love you. I love everything about you, and I should’ve told you sooner. I wanted to tell you from the day I first met you. I swooned for you when you danced with me all those years ago. My heart beats for you, and propels me to complete this task all the sooner to start this adventure with you and Law.”

He pressed his forehead against your own, the feeling of hot tears rolling down his cheeks at the confession had you both sobbing and laughing at yourselves. Sniffling and collecting your own tears on your wrist, and he with his, you both glanced up at each other and allowed your smiles to rise.

“We will get this done, Donquixote Rosinante,” you hardened your resolve, nodding through every word, “And when it’s all over, we will be una familia- a family, mi corazon. The three of us. Together.” You held each other close on the deck of the small shack: swaying between kisses as the darkness plaguing your journey was eclipsed by the light rising between you.

Hanging on your every word, a small sob hitched at the crack in the door, Trafalgar Law’s hand clasping over his lips to mask his presence. Law had never witnessed so much love pouring from one person to another. The fact that you both held such love for him too had him openly sobbing at the interaction.

He wanted this too.

He wanted to be a family with both of you: two absolute idiots that loved both him and each other unconditionally. Two complete idiots who were hardened fighters, pirates, and war criminals. His idiots.

He wanted this so desperately.

He wants his imperfect, perfect family.

But some things were not meant to be.

Law would call on this memory often. Each time that melody played over his personal radio, his heart would both consequently swell and shatter as tears threatened to pour down his face. He wanted to wake up, for it to all be some horrific nightmare and still be searching with you and Cora-san for a cure for his illness. Your love was real, and he was thankful to play his part in it.

However small a time it was, it was his. His perfect, imperfect family.

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b1ackoutartist · 7 months

Text

Missed

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Kinda sad, sorry

The room was shrouded in the muted colors of the evening, as the amber light from the setting sun streamed through the windows. Y/N sat on the couch, holding a framed picture of Natasha, her beautiful wife, taken during a family picnic they once had. The smiles in that photo seemed so distant now.

She took a deep breath and called, "Alex, Elena, come here sweethearts." The pitter-patter of small feet echoed through the hallway, followed by two wide-eyed faces looking up at her, their eyes filled with innocence and curiosity.

"Where's mommy?" Elena, with her soft curls and big green eyes resembling Natasha’s, asked, clutching her favorite toy close to her chest.

Alex, the older of the two, sensing the weight of the moment, hesitated, "Is Mommy still on her mission?"

Y/N’s heart felt as if it was being squeezed, pain radiating through her with every beat. She beckoned the kids to sit beside her and took a moment to find her voice. "Do you remember the stories Mommy would tell about heroes and sacrifices?"

Alex nodded slowly, "Like when someone does something really brave for someone else?"

"That's right," Y/N whispered, wiping away a tear that had slid down her face. "Mommy... she had to do something really brave. To make sure we all stayed safe. To make sure you and Elena and everyone else could be here."

Elena looked confused, "But when is she coming back?"

Y/N choked back her emotions, "Oh, my love, Mommy... Mommy isn't coming back. She's with the stars now, watching over us."

The room was filled with a deafening silence. Then, a sob from Alex broke it. "But I want Mommy! I need her! Why did she have to go?"

Elena, not fully grasping the depth of the situation, started crying too, mirroring her brother's pain, "I want Mommy!"

Y/N pulled them close, feeling the weight of their grief and her own crashing down on her. She kissed their heads, "I know, my loves. I want her too. Every moment. But she did it because she loved us. And she'll always be here," Y/N touched both their hearts, "right here. And in the wind, the stars, the stories we tell. She'll always be with us."

"Right here. And in the wind, the stars, the stories we tell. She'll always be with us."

"But I want her here, Momma! I want her to read to me, to sing me lullabies," Elena's voice quivered, fresh tears spilling over her cheeks.

Alex's face crumpled, his attempts at being the 'big brother' faltering, "I want to show her my drawings. I made one for her today. She promised she'd put it on the fridge."

Y/N's vision blurred, tears making everything seem distant and hazy. The weight of the situation pressed on her chest, making it hard to breathe. "I know, baby. I wish, more than anything, that she could walk through that door and hold all of us," her voice broke, the deep anguish evident.

The room was suffocated by the tangible pain and heartache. Every silent moment, every quiet sob echoed the profound loss that had taken over their lives.

Y/N drew her children closer, trying to shield them from the world's cruelty, even if just for a moment. "Listen to me, both of you," she began, her voice filled with a mix of pain and determination. "Your Mommy was the bravest person I've ever known. She loved you both more than words can describe. Every moment away from you was a sacrifice for her, but she did it to protect us, to protect the world."

Alex hiccupped, wiping his tears, "But why did she have to go? Why couldn't someone else?"

Y/N swallowed hard, "Because sometimes, our loved ones are called upon to make the hardest choices. Choices we might never understand. But we have to trust that they did it for the right reasons. And now, it's our job to remember her, to honor her memory, to make sure that her sacrifice wasn't in vain."

Elena snuggled into her, "But it hurts, Momma."

Y/N pressed a gentle kiss on her daughter's forehead, "I know, baby. It hurts me too, every single day. But we have each other, and we will get through this together."

#marvel #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff imagine #avengers endgame

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anincompletelist · 6 months

Text

HAPPY SUNDAY! :D

and THANK YOU to @kiwiana-writes for the tag as always! i am SO excited for everything you’ve got in the works ;)

usually i post in the late afternoon but i wanted to get a jump on this so i could tag more of you instead of waiting until the last minute!! (tags below the cut!)

full disclosure: this is not at ALL six or seven sentences hskshdk. but i wrote this scene that i’ve been struggling with for WEEKS for bridesmaids fic yesterday and i adore it? so i wanted to share?? BUT i put a cut so it won’t clog up your dashes 🫶🏼

i hope you’re all doing well and having a wonderful sunday so far! :D

For the briefest of moments, Henry considers it. Considers leaning forward and kissing him, tasting the remnants of Fideuà and fine wine on his lips. Considers cradling Alex’s face in his hands and stroking his thumbs over those pretty, high cheekbones, laying his fingers on summer-flushed, freckled soft skin. Considers giving in, just this once, and finding out what it’d be like to kiss someone because he wants to and not just because he feels like it might not happen again so he should take whatever he can get.

He glances back up to Alex’s eyes and places a careful hand over his where it’s still gripping at his shoulder and squeezes lightly, a question and a half-composed promise.

Then, before he can make a decision, Alex is barreling into him so hard that Henry bounces off the counter behind him, scrambling to get an arm around Alex’s body. And it’s— he’s crying.

Henry freezes, glancing around hopelessly at the empty kitchen, Ellen and Leo’s fond bickering over the movie and June’s laughter still echoing from the living room.

“Shh,” he placates softly, snapping into motion, one hand on the back of Alex’s head and the other running up and down the length of his back. “Alex, it’s alright.”

Alex only sobs harder, both of his fists now clutching at handfuls of Henry’s shirt at his hips, his tears soaking into Henry’s shoulder where his hand had been moments before. He’s mumbling something but Henry can’t make it out, frantically checking the doorway to make sure that no one walks in and sees them — sees Alex like this.

“Alex, love, what’s wrong?” he says softly, trying to get a hand between them to dry some of the tears on his cheeks.

He shakes his head into Henry’s chest and grips at him more harshly, drawing in a hiccuping breath every few moments in between sobs. Squeezing his own eyes shut, Henry puts his chin on top of his head and hugs him back, swaying them gently side to side until he begins to breathe more normally again.

His hands are shaking as he slowly disentangles his fingers from Henry’s shirt, moving them from his hips up to his chest, pushing back just enough that Henry can see him properly. There are thick tears clinging to his lashes, his lower lip still trembling, and the image sends a flaming dagger straight into Henry’s chest. He decides, with a shocking amount of resolution, that he never wants to see Alex like this ever again.

Tentatively, Henry raises a hand and presses it to his cheek now that he can, swiping at the moisture. “What can I do?”

Strangely blank, Alex’s eyes find his and he blinks, once, and Henry traces a finger over the angry line in his forehead and his furrowed brow until the pressure eases. Alex sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and swallows, his fingers spreading out over Henry’s pulse.

“Por favor no me las quites,” Alex whispers, his voice thin and broken, his eyes stunningly earnest.

Henry swallows dryly. He’s got no idea what that means but it seems important, and Alex is clinging to him like he may dissolve if he lets go. He slides his fingers through Alex’s again until his grip relaxes and meets his eye.

“Okay,” he says. He holds Alex’s hand to his chest and does his best to breathe deeply and evenly, staying perfectly still until Alex’s breathing mimics his own. “Okay, Alex.”

OKAY if you’ve made it this far THANK YOU but also i would of course like to be privy to what any of y’all have to share @daisymae-12 @read-and-write- @inexplicablymine @happiness-of-the-pursuit @affectionatelyrs @tintagel-or-cockleshells @firstsprinces @magicandarchery @wordsofhoneydew @getmehighonmagic @hgejfmw-hgejhsf and anyone else that would like to participate!! please tag me! 🫶🏼

#my fic #wips #i’m actually so happy with the way this scene turned out #rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb fic #firstprince #i never know what to tag these #🧍🏼‍♀️

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thewritingofspencerrose · 5 months

Text

Freefall Masterlist

Ferrari's Defender

formula1news Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, having just recently escaped scandal after it was leaked that her relationship with said Ferrari driver was initially a PR set up, is under fire once more, the woman currently being heard yelling at the FIA stewards over their awarding of a 10 place penalty to Carlos Sainz. Thoughts?

"Ms.Earnhardt, this is incredibly inappropriate behavior. You are a guest at this event and we could very well-"

"Very well what? Throw me out? How is that going to look F1 if you throw the clearly distressed, sobbing girlfriend of il Predestinato out of the race? With many fans here due to my presence as the Princess of Nascar?" I glare, the steward flinching at my tone.

"This race has had nothing but bad PR. Your world champion Verstappen has been saying to everyone how he hates it here. The only positive media attention has been Hamilton's energy and the crossover event of my brother's, father, and I being here, representing Nascar."

And you can tell by their faces that they are aware that I am right. If they kick my family and I out now, they'll only face more backlash than they already are.

"What was your reason for being here?" Another steward asks, her voice gentler than the other, but whether that's for my benefit or hers I don't know.

"Carlos Sainz did not deserve that penalty."

"Ms.Earn-"

"No," I interrupt once more, the man from earlier quieting immediately. "Sainz only had to replace his power unit because of the FIA's negligence in ensuring that the track was safe for driving. You're truly lucky that he wasn't injured or worse given the state of the bottom of his car. This coupled with your clear disregard for driver safety-"

"We regard driver's safety very highly Ms.Earnhardt."

"Clearly that is not the case, given that you'd rather penalize him than apologize for the dangerous situation you put him in. You are aware that he was unable to feel his legs for a few moments right?"

They are. You can tell based on their expressions.

"And if you don't fix this, you know the negative publicity surrounding this race will increase ten-fold when the rest of the drivers comment on the injustice as well."

"They know better," The original steward disagrees.

"Do they?" I question, smirking at the oblivious man. "I already have Verstappen, Albon, Norris, Hamilton, and Piastri willing to speak on this. As well as my father, who I don't know if you remember, is Dale Earnhardt Jr., and would bring into question the validity of how penalties are given out in Formula 1," The explanation rolls off my tongue easily, smirk never leaving as their eyes grow wide.

Got 'em.

"What would you like to see happen to prevent you and the others from drawing attention?"

"Remove the penalty from Sainz. This was your fault, take responsibility like a big kid."

And its now that they pause, looking between themselves before the grouchy one nods, crossing his arms.

"We will notify the teams now and have the announcement released in the next hour."

"Good, thank you," I thank, smiling brightly. "I look forward to seeing the rest of the weekend," I assure, turning around and leaving the viewing platform to find both Ferrari boys, my brothers, and my dad outside the door.

"So? Did you hand them their asses?" Will asks, Alex elbowing his twin.

Looking to Carlos, I can see the concern and some of the emotion from earlier still in his eyes, making him look so much older.

"Carlos, they are notifying the teams now," I begin, Charles tugging me into his side. "Your penalty is being removed after further evaluation," I can't help but smile.

"Really?"

And I want to cry at how relieved he looks as I nod.

"Eres una diosa mi amiga, (you are a goddess my friend)" He says, and while I'm not sure what that means, he pulls me into a hug.

"How'd you manage this amore mio (my love)?" Charles asks, pulling me back in as Carlos releases me.

"I told them I would make the negative media attention even worse by speaking out, along with other drivers and my father, making this race even more of a mess than it already is," I explain, my Dad snickering.

"That's my little girl."

formula1news Sainz will move into the race Sunday with no penalty due to convincing by teammates girlfriend

carlossainz55 This is Lynnleigh. She supports not only my teammate, her boyfriend, but the entire team. And today she has gotten more hate for that than I have seen in the last month.

Lynnleigh stood up for the team when we were given an undeserved penalty, and made a case so strong that the FIA decided to reverse the penalty, putting us in a great position to do our best and stay there during Quali Saturday.

You, the tifosi, should be thanking her for making this happen. Not tearing her apart for being defensive about a friend.

Proud to call you a friend, Lynn.

Thank you for putting up with Charles and supporting the team.

Esta es Lynnleigh. Ella apoya no sólo a mi compañera de equipo, a su novio, sino a todo el equipo. Y hoy ha recibido más odio por eso que el que he visto en el último mes.

Lynnleigh defendió al equipo cuando nos impusieron una penalización inmerecida y presentó un caso tan sólido que la FIA decidió revertir la penalización, colocándonos en una excelente posición para dar lo mejor de nosotros y permanecer allí durante la clasificación del sábado.

Ustedes, los tifosi, deberían agradecerle por hacer que esto sucediera. No destrozarla por ponerse a la defensiva con un amigo.

Orgulloso de llamarte amiga, Lynn.

Gracias por aguantar a Charles y apoyar al equipo.

lynleigh03 anything for a friend Car ❤️ happy the stewards came to the right decision

#original character #the writing of spencer rose #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 #carlos sainz jr #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc fanfic #las vegas gp 2023 #carlos sainz does not deserve his penalty so this is how im fixing it #freefall series

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i-eat-worlds · 15 days

Text

Wow Birthday Whump Day 15: Hidden Injury / Outnumbered / "I'm Sorry."

A beautiful angsty piece for the last day. I’m glad I got to do this, it was lots of fun <3 (Heart)

Content: blood, emotional whump and angst, medic caretaker, implied past abuse

Alex twisted the lock to the supply room behind her, ensuring no one would walk in the middle of her late night wound care session. The anxiety was already heavy on her chest, her brain replaying the conversation she’d had with Joseph several weeks ago.

He’d promised he wouldn’t be mad, and maybe that was true, but he would be disappointed. She could see it now, the look in his eyes, half-pity, half-betrayal. It would shred her right now, especially with Tindley’s trial approaching.

“Trust your leaders, Shevchenko. Listen to them, always. They’re your betters for a reason.”

Maybe she should've gone to him, but it was too late for that now. He was probably already sound asleep, and waking him wouldn’t help her case. It’d be fine. She’d dealt with worse.

For some reason, tears started to prick at her eyes as she retrieved her stash of supplies from the top of one of the corner cabinets. She grabbed a towel and spread it out on the floor before she sat, using a hand to steady herself.

“I trained you to be self-reliant. Resourceful. Strong. Be better than this.”

Her hands were shaking as she pulled off her shirt, revealing the bandages wrapped around her lower abdomen. Since she couldn't get to a sink, she made do with hand sanitizer. It irritated a hangnail, drawing a quiet curse from her lips.

The bandages were mostly clean, with the exception of a quarter-sized pink blotch towards the left side. Had she torn a stitch? The thought made her more uneasy. Joseph would’ve wanted to see that.

“What did I say about hiding injuries, Shevchenko? That’s not a decision you get to make.”

She let the tears fall as she peeled the dressing away, leaving it on the towel. The underside was also blood stained, this red more vibrant. It must’ve happened recently, because the spot where the stitches had torn was still bleeding.

Reaching over for the gauze was uncomfortable but not unmanageable. She pressed a couple squares against the wound, hoping it didn’t take too long to stem the bleeding. This part was always the worst.

Suddenly, without explanation, the hair raised on her neck. She drew her eyes to the door, looking for footsteps under the door. This closet was supposed to be abandoned. That could only mean one thing.

There was a knock. “It’s Joseph. Can I come in?”

Her heart dropped. How did he always know? The tears fell faster, despite her best attempts to stop them. She couldn’t answer him, her eyes wide and jaw dropped open.

“Alex?” He sounded so damn worried. “I promise I’m not angry, I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

Finally, she was able to pull a choked out “come in” from her lips. There was an awful, awful pause, and then the handle twisted and the door cracked open. His first step was slow, but the moment he saw the blood, he was by her side in an instant.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, keeping the gauze pressed against her belly. “I know we talked. I didn’t mean to disobey.” Her hands were trembling, along with the rest of her body.

He took a deep breath. “It’s alright, I’m not mad.” He stole a pair of gloves from her stash of supplies. “Is it okay if I touch?”

“I didn’t mean it to be disrespectful.” She was avoiding his question. “I’m sorry. I know I should’ve come to you.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not angry.” He emphasized that. “Can I touch you?”

She jerked away. “You can. You can. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry.” He still didn’t touch her. “So you know what to expect, this is going to have to be a medbay visit.” She whimpered, sniing. “But, we can wait until you calm down.”

“Thank you.” She bit her lips. “You can touch. I…I don’t really want to have to deal with the blood in my fingernails.”

Slowly, he took over pressure, pressing the gauze onto the wound. Silence passed over them, and then he spoke again. “I’m sorry I didn’t check up on you after training today. That’s my job, and I should’ve done it.”

She shrugged. “No, it’s my fault.” Her voice caught. “I should trust you enough to let you touch me.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “That’s not…you having boundaries doesn’t mean you don’t trust me, Alex.” He could see her scoff at that internally. This would take time. “And it doesn’t have to be me, you know. Eric would help you, Teri would help you, anyone down at the medbay would help you.”

He sighed, and she dropped her head. “In the future, you can tell me ‘I’ve got some road rash, I’ll get you if I need help,” and then go at it in the bathroom. I just want to make sure you're safe. I’m not going to invade your privacy like that.”

She looked at him, face coiled with frustration. “I’m sorry. Really. I promise.”

His expression softened. “You’re new to all this. It's alright. You’re learning, I’m learning.” The gauze was now a light pink color, and he reached for more. “I don’t want to make you sorry. I want to make you safe.”

“Yeah.” She lifted her head up. “I’m not used to it…being like this.”

“We’ll figure it out together?” He offered her a fist bump.

“Yes. We will.” She returned it, trying her best at a smile.

He nodded. Progress was progress, and Alex would get there.

Taglist: @pigeonwhumps @rainydaywhump @painful-pooch@rainbowsandwhumperflies @snaillamp @whumperofworlds

#worlds babbles #wow birthday whump #wow birthday whump day 15 #hidden injury #“I’m sorry”#emotional whump #cw blood #medic caretaker

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gretavanbear · 1 year

Text

beautiful.

josh kiszka x fem!reader

[notes :

short, little imagine.

dedicated to alex.

warnings : body dysmorphia, talk of self-hate, comforting josh!]

you stood in the mirror wearing nothing but your bra and underwear, tears in your eyes as this was not a good day for you. the walls felt isolating as you've spent your whole day in bed, the pressure of getting up and having to be perceived becoming too overwhelming.

it was the evening now, and your boyfriend josh was probably going to walk in the room at any moment, his work day being over for about twenty minutes now.

you want to go back in bed, pretend to be asleep, the thought of him seeing you like this makes you cry even more; but before you can hide you hear his keys jangle in the front door. the footsteps becoming louder as he calls your name.

the tears stream down your face and you cover yourself with your arms as the footsteps are outside the door, the handle twisting slowly. he calls your name softly and stops in his tracks as he witnesses your half-naked figure stood in front of the mirror.

"oh my god. [y/n], babe, what's wrong?" his worried voice fills the room, and you can't respond with anything but a sob, the tears flowing like a waterfall. he wastes no time to rush to you and pull you in his arms, lifting you up and bringing you to the bed; cradling you with his soft arms. you cry underneath his touch, the warmth helping you calm down.

"shh.. i know.. i know sweet girl" his fingers comb through your hair as he rocks you softly, the soft touch healing your heart. he leaves soft kisses on the top of your head as your cries quiet down.

"i.. i feel so ugly, josh" you cry softly, and he pulls you closer if that's any possible.

"why darling? you are the most beautiful person i have ever seen." he says softy, his hands holding you close as your cheek rests against his chest on the soft material of his t-shirt.

"because.. you see all these pretty people at your shows, perfect faces and perfect bodies and you could do better, but instead you're stuck with me" you sniffle, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand.

he gasps softly and pulls back, so he can face you. "is that what you think?" he asks softly, his curly hair frames his face in the best possible way; making him look so soft your heart hurts.

"[y/n], i choose to be with you. i choose to wake up next to you in the morning. you are mine and i, yours. i don't want anyone else. you are so, so, fucking perfect." his hand cradles your cheek and he pulls you in for a soft kiss.

"look at your arms, how beautiful and soft they are. your thighs, how i love to lay my head on them. c'mere" he spins you so your back is laying against his chest.

he draws little hearts on your skin. "look at how gorgeous you are." he whispers. his free hand plays with your hair as his fingers continue laying little traces on your skin.

"this body of yours is on my mind all day, love. how i miss it when i'm not home, how i wish to hold you when you're away. without these curves, this softness; it wouldn't be the same. i can't love anyone else but you, my pretty girl" he sighs, his free hand now on your shoulder.

"i love the way your skin looks in the morning, the way your stomach always looks so soft and delicate. you are so carefully sculpted by the gods, and i'm the lucky one who gets to spend my life in the museum of your beautifulness. i am so grateful for you, [y/n]." he speaks softly, his soft voice comforting you more and more by the second.

"would you love me more if i was smaller?" your voice is frail and fragile, and he sighs softly, pulling you closer to him.

"i love you now. i'll love you forever. and nothing will change that." he says softly, his lips leaving a soft kiss on your forehead.

{@sarakay-gvf @positivegvfthings @brokenbells11 @krystalm98 @shutupdevvie @milkgemini @jordierama @maddie-van-fleet @writingcold @gretavanfleas @jakes-eyebrows @spark-my-nature @lo-pe-ak}

#josh kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka x reader #josh gvf smut #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka x you #greta van fic #greta van fleet #gvf imagine #gvf #greta van fleet imagine #gvf ships #gvf series #josh kiszka soft #soft imagine #soft gvf imagine #body positivity

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thebadgerclan · 9 months

Text

Break The Sound Barrier

Pairing: Alex Claremont-Diaz x Henry Fox

Summary: When the emails leak, there's only one place Alex needs to be...

A/N: GO WATCH THIS MOVIE IF YOU HAVE PRIME!!!!! I had to expand on this particular scene, I just had to

(I've been writing some multi-chapter fics for firstprince over on AO3 if anyone's intersted!)

“You know what? I’m coming to London tonight. Just hold on until I get there. We’ll figure this out. As soon as the words left Alex’s mouth, Henry had been restless. Pacing the halls, organizing and reorganizing his bookshelf, weeding out David’s toys, trying (and failing) to throw out the old ones (how could he, when he literally gave him puppy-dog eyes?), mind numbing tasks to distract him from the literal ocean separating him from the man he loved when he needed him most.

After three hours, Henry had taken to staring out the window like a war-era woman waiting for her husband to return from war. Then a car pulled up to the gates, and Henry thought he might throw himself out the window to get to Alex faster. But he settled for hurrying from his perch, down the stairs, and….There he was. His Alex, his love, he was here. Henry was barreling down the stairs, Alex was running up them, and they met in the middle, crashing into each other, clinging to each other desperately.

They sank to the ground, in the middle of the stairs, wrapped in each other’s arms. Henry was holding Alex like he might evaporate if he let go, and Alex was holding Henry like he wanted to shelter him from the world, like he wanted nothing more than to protect him from anything and everything. Finally, Alex spoke. “I’m here, baby,” he whispered, and Henry shattered, turning his face into Alex’s neck and sobbing.

Alex tightened his arms around him, kissing the top of his head. “I’m sorry,” Henry cried. “I’m so sorry.” “Baby, Henry, no. You have nothing to be sorry for. None of this is either of our faults, baby.” Henry only sniffled, keeping his face buried in Alex’s shoulder. “Henry, look at me.” Slowly, he lifted his head, and Alex’s heart cracked seeing his puffy and red-rimmed eyes. “Baby,” Alex cooed, wiping tears from Henry’s cheeks, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Whatever happens next, I’m with you. I love you, Henry, and I’ll fight for you.”

“I love you too,” Henry replied. “God, I love you. But…I’m scared, Alex.” Alex nodded, resting his forehead against Henry’s. “I’m scared too, baby. But I’ve got you, whatever they try to throw at us. Because I love you so fucking much, Hen, and….I feel forever about you.” Henry nodded, fresh tears welling up. But these were happy tears, spurred on by Alex’s appearance, his willingness to be here, to fight for him. And Henry, well, he felt forever about him too.

After a few minutes, Alex coaxed Henry to his feet and shepherded him back to his rooms, where they barely managed to climb into bed before Henry was wrapped around Alex like a vine. Henry was exhausted, and being in Alex’s arms was like a sedative. Yet he was reluctant to sleep, fearing that when he woke, Alex would be gone. “Go to sleep, baby,” he whispered, smoothing Henry’s hair back from his face. “I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”

Eventually, Henry nodded off, and for the first time in weeks, he slept soundly. When he woke, Alex’s arms were no longer around him, but there was still a warm presence at his side. When Henry opened his eyes, it was to find Alex propped up against the headboard, David curled in his lap. “Morning, baby,” Alex said, a warm smile on his face. “I hate to break it to you, but I think your dog loves me more.” Henry rolled over, propping himself up on an elbow.

“Well, he does take after me, and I do love you very much.” He sat up further, pressing a kiss to Alex’s lips, drawing a huff from David, who’d been squished between them. Henry cuddled into Alex’s side, who pulled him close, kissing his temple. “I’m scared people will hate me now,” Henry admitted, one hand stroking David’s fur, the other linking with Alex’s. “They call me ‘The Prince of England’s Hearts’. Now that they know….I don’t know.”

“Well….you’re the king of my heart, that’s gotta count for something, right?” It took Henry a moment, then he was laughing. “Did you just call me a Taylor Swift song?” “Maybe,” Alex replied, laughing now too. “It’s not my fault her songs seem to fit our life so well!” Henry smiled, pressing a kiss to Alex’s cheek. “We’ll be alright, won’t we?” he asked, and Alex nodded, squeezing his hand tightly. “Yeah, baby. We will.”

#firstprince #alex claremont diaz x henry fox #rwrb fanfiction #rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince fluff

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msmarvelouswinchester · 4 months

Text

year in review: favorite lines!

I was tagged by the lovely @firenati0n in this adorable tag game where we share our top favorite segments from our published fics and/or wips! thank you for tagging me❤️

This year has been a fandom rollercoaster with being in RWRB fandom and also the SPN fandom! For RWRB, I posted three works (and have like 3 WIPS) and for SPN, I posted one fic (and unfortunately no WIP)

Starting with RWRB fandom,

Published (all works have been published in ao3) -

1. It’s the First Kiss (it’s flawless, really something, it’s fearless)

“How bad?”

“I don't know,” Henry said.

Alex's heart broke even further. He nudged Henry, “Scoot over, let me hold you.” Henry obliged without any further question. Alex slipped beside him under the covers and wrapped his arms around Henry. “Is it all the way black?”

“All the way.” It was a system they had come up with in their first year of living together—a colour system to know how bad the day was. Blue stood for ‘feel like shit but I'm going to be fine’, gray was for ‘feel so horrible, but a hug will cure me’ and finally, black was for ‘it hurts to even breathe, need you to hold me and never let go’.

Henry turned around the embrace and rested his cheek against Alex's chest. The rhythmic beats of his heart calmed his mind but it was not enough. He was still hurting. Alex gently carded his fingers through his golden strands and Henry felt himself tearing up. “Shh, shh, sweetheart, it's alright.” But the tears never stopped. Sobs racked his body as he made a mess of Alex's shirt with tears and snot. However Alex only pulled him closer to himself. “It's alright, H, let it out. I'm here for you.”

2. You Gave Me Roses (I Left Them There To Die)

“It's fine. Here—” Alex made a space on his bed for Henry to sit beside him, “Baby, please c’mere.”

And who was Henry to ever deny Alex anything?

“Henry you're so fucking wrong if you think I don't want you. I want you—all the good parts, all the bad parts and even the parts that you have sworn to hide away forever.” Henry's eyes snapped back to Alex. The familiar pain returned, and the final vestige of armour began to crumble. Despite his attempts to hold onto it, he sensed it slipping away, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. “Let yourself have me.”

“I want to.”

“Then fucking have me.”

And then again, who was Henry to ever deny Alex anything ?

3. The Great American Roommate Experiment (also a WIP series)

Henry grumbled, “Go to sleep, Alex.”

“Henry, what happened?” Alex asked. “If I did something wrong then I’m sorry.”

“You did nothing wrong. Not everything is about you, Alex.” Henry sounded harsher than he meant to be because deep-down he knew it was a lie—if he could, he would have made everything about Alex.

Alex frowned deeply, “Okay, fuck, fine! Don't have to be so fucking rude Henry. I just wanted to watch Bake-off with—”

Henry was exhausted, horny and truly couldn't give a fuck right now. He hadn't had a decent sex in a long time and he was tired of pining after a man who was so out of his reach, he could have fucking well lived in the goddamn outer space, “Christ, Alex! Can't you just let a man have a bloody wank in peace?”

Now onto WIPS -

1. The +1: Boyfriend for Rent

The devil on Henry's shoulder is pulling an overtime again. He gives Alex a nod and is dragged off to the dance floor. The pulsating rhythm envelopes the two boys while they navigate the dance floor in shared harmony.

Alex lets his hands rest in the dip of Henry's waist and the blonde's steps falter. “It's all in the hips, sweetheart,” Alex sways his hips to establish his point. And Henry—yeah, Henry is not okay. Alex guides Henry's hands up to his shoulders, drawing himself close to the blonde's chest. With a continuous rolling motion of his hips, Alex grinds against him. He feeds into his urge to be infinitely close to Henry and tucks his face into the crook of Henry's neck.

“Is this okay?” Alex breathes out against the blonde's neck. Henry nods. “Words, sweetheart. I need words. I want to follow each clause.”

“Yes—” Henry struggles to suppress a whimper that lingers at the edge of his lips as Alex's hands ascend to his chest. “It's okay.”

2. Unnamed Spy AU

“Ms. Bankston,” Henry raises his eyes to meet their superior's gaze, who appears poised to throttle both the Agents. “May I possibly be removed from this mission? I do not want to risk Agent Claremont-Diaz’s well-being because—” he whips head around towards Alex “—you don't seem to trust me at all.”

For a fleeting moment, Alex was thrown back in the past—back to their first mission together, in Rio. “Henry,” Alex wheezes, “Call b-backup. Henry?” He is running out of breath; running out of time. The bullet—a merciless messenger of death—has slotted itself beside his sternum. It's a miracle that the piece of metal didn't manage to puncture his heart. He is bleeding out. “Henry?” Alex calls for his partner but it's futile. For Henry stands paralysed—

“Alex?” Zahra's voice snaps him out of his reverie. Alex tips his chair back to stand up. He senses the twitching and shaking in his hands and fingers, recognizing the signs of an impending panic attack. “Agent Claremont-Diaz, are you okay?”

3. Unnamed Bridgerton AU (Idk when or how i will write this with Regency era English lol)

“And what? Tarnish the family name to find myself a husband? Gran will never allow me this respite.”

“Brother, you cannot—”

“I must.” That was all he told Bea before he was off to do his duty—find himself a wife. Henry let his inquisitive gaze travel the room in hopes that he could find a woman suitable enough for him to carry on a conversation. While he didn't hold an overly high opinion of himself, contemplating a loveless union compelled him to seek a lady whose wit could at least match his own. One could only endure tales of knitting for so long.

It was at that moment he glimpsed her presence, adorned in silk embellished with golden sequins. Miss Catalina June Claremont-Diaz, her eyes radiating keen intelligence as she engaged in conversation with Lord Richards who was simply quite taken by her. Yet, as he allowed his gaze to linger further left, a surge of emotions overwhelmed him, leaving him in a state of bewildered captivation for a long time.

The cause of this mesmerization was none other than a strikingly handsome gentleman who stood guard beside her. Upon further inspection, Henry understood it was Mister Alexander Claremont-Diaz, Miss June's younger brother.

Hello, old friend SPN fandom,

Published (On Tumblr) -

If We Love Again

“I remember very clearly you throwing me out of the bunker and telling me never to contact you again. You know what, showing up tonight was my bigges—”

“Son of a bitch, I can't believe I'm fucking doin’ this,” Dean murmured.

“Wha–” The rest of the question turned into a squeak and Dean’s lips crashed into her. And then the thoughts crashed into him. Fuck.

Dean immediately jumped back from her. “I'm so sor—”

“If you dare to say sorry for this, I am telling Sammy to shoot you in your dick, asshole,” Y/N panted, “Fucking come, kiss me, you moron!”

Now onto tagging!

Open tags! Please feel free to do this tag game - its fun and I want to know all about your fics!

#tag games #wips #current wips #published works #rwrb fic #FirstPrince fic #red white and royal blue fic #supernatural #spn fic #spn

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greenbeany · 2 years

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Bean.

BEAN.

I had a crazy idea.

Dream SMP Alex Rider AU. (mainly SBI cuz SBI my beloved)

Phil is John Rider(except maybe not dead??)

Technoblade is Yassen

MissTrixtin is Ian except she's Wilbur(Jack) and Tommy(Alex)'s mom(also maybe not dead)

Wilbur and Tommy are Jack(Starbright. Not Manifold of course) and Alex respectively, but they're siblings(biological or adoptive, idc)

Dream is a younger, greener Blunt

Maybe George is Mrs. Jones??? Or Captain Puffy if we want to go down the Jones-is-nice route. (I personally support the Jones-is-nice opinion, but ik some ppl don't, which is valid)

If Captain Puffy is Jones then George could be Crawley I guess

Either Awesamdude or Foolish Gamers is Smithers

Tubbo and Ranboo both serve as Tom

Niki Nihachu as Ben because Niki deserves to kick butt and be one of the only trustworthy ppl

Idk who any of the rest should be but Purpled and Punz should definitely be Scorpia operatives (or Purpled could be Julius??? If Julius even exists in this AU????)

...As you can see, I have been having brainrot.

I AM HAVING BRAINROT WITH YOU I AM HAVING BRAINROT WITH YOU YOUR BRAIN IS SO BIG HELLO???

Casting Techno as Yassen is GENIUS and is a sure fire way to make me sob. Him doing everything in his power to protect Tommy from Dream and MI6 and it just Does Not Work.

I'm also thinking of all of the book nine angst with Wilbur as Jack oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god.

I do love Phil, I do, but having him and Mumza both be dead is a really good set up for Wilbur having to take care of Tommy because of absent parents and MMMMMMMMMM ANGST I WANNA FUCKING WRITE THIS NOW MMM

Hear me out on this one, Jack Manifold as Wolf.

Bullies Tommy and Tommy bullies him back

He has the right accent and haircut for it (I'm so sorry he just does)

STILL has older brother vibes somehow

On the same squad as Niki and their dynamic is immaculate

Ok SOMEONE has to write or draw this because I am going feral and I have no new Alex Rider or Dream SMP content rn to get me through

#alex rider #dsmp #dream smp #mcyt #hold up I'm going to start a tag for this #AR!Tommy #catch me drawing out a comic for this by next week

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invisibleraven · 2 years

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I wish you would write a fic where rising star Julie Molina is the opening act for pop-punk sensation Sunset Curve, but she's not prepared for the sheer amount of charisma she shares with their bassist and their lead singer on-stage (or off).

How much of it's genuine? Are those two together? Can she get through this without totally wrecking the tour?

The crowd roared as Julie took her bow, waving at the legions of fans, a radiant smile on her face. Sure, most of them weren't here for her, but they had seemed to adore her songs, screaming her name, and it made Julie feel the rush of wanting to do it all over again.

But right now she needed to get off the stage as the real headliners were waiting in the wings. With one more wave, Julie dashed off, right into the waiting arms of Sunset Curve.

"Julie!" Reggie called out, bouncing up and down with her. "You killed it! I knew you would!"

Alex gave her a grin, and a thumbs up, but he was mostly preoccupied with his boyfriend/tour roadie Willie whispering encouragement in his ear.

Luke was there, rubbing the back of his head, biting his bottom lip. "Amazing job boss, can't believe this was your first time in front of a crowd like that, they were eating it up. You're a star Julie." He then joined the hug with Reggie, the two of them embracing her tightly.

And all Julie could do was blush. Here she was, surrounded by two gorgeous guys who liked to cuddle and flirt, and she was not immune to them. But of course, she couldn't act on it, they worked together, had a whole summer tour to get through. Plus the simmering chemistry she observed between the two of them when they shared a mic... it made her doubt their every compliment and wink thrown her way.

So Julie pushes down how much she likes Luke, how much she likes Reggie. Berates herself for crushing on two guys at the same time. Guys she considers friends, whom she is certain have no real interest in her. They flirt with everyone, playing it up for good PR with her. There's no way that she can have them both, or even one of them. Not if the way they look at each other when the other isn't looking is to be believed.

Instead Julie concentrates on the tour. Doing little vlogs in each new town, many of which the guys crash, filling the comments with little hearts and musings as to which member she is secretly dating. Alex almost screeches at that, dutifully pulling Willie onto the next vlog, loudly and proudly declaring they were dating, thank you very much.

Then the comments get even more voracious as she and Luke give a sneak peek of the song they'd written together. Another video showing her and Reggie doing a silly country duet. The three of them passed out asleep on the tour bus couch after a raging show. Speculation flies, and Julie just... declines to comment, knowing it will all blow over come the end of the tour. That's when she's sure that it will all come out that the boys are just playing up their behaviour to draw in ticket sales. After this summer, she doubts Sunset Curve will have anything to do with her other than the odd twitter shout out or Instagram callback.

Yet she can't stop from feeling warm all over when Reggie shoots her his crooked grin while regaling her with stories from their childhoods. Can't help but twirl her hair around her fingers as Luke chimes in, laying his own impish smirk on her. Can't help falling even further when one night, deep in their cups, they share their joined parental trauma, sobbing, collapsing into a heap of a drunken hug, waking up intertwined, hungover, but much more cathartic.

Julie wants to believe it's real so bad. That they all like each other, that they can make it work. But as much as they all flirt, no one makes a move. So Julie pines in despair, and prays for the tour to end so she can hide away until her crushes dissipate.

It's the last show, the crowd is packed in like sardines, despite the enormous stadium. Signs dot the crowd, and Julie counts a fair few with her name. The label has already approached her about a second album, and apparently have gotten a request from Sunset Curve's manager for her to guest on a song with them for their fifth.

"You really want me to do a song with you?" she asks the guys before she goes on.

"We'd do a whole album with you if we could Jules," Luke assures her. "You're a wrecking ball of talent."

"Voice like an angel," Reggie interjects. "We're gonna miss you after the tour is over."

"Well we can always see each other after tonight. Provided you two aren't busy making up for all the date you missed out on during the tour," Julie says, clearly fishing.

The boys look at her, confused. Luke is the first to speak up. "Um, Julie, you know me and Reggie aren't together right? I mean, not for lack of trying on my part."

"Dude, singing in my face is not asking me out!" Reggie protests. "And I totally thought you had a thing for Julie!"

Luke blushes at that. "I mean, I do. But I also have a thing for you Reg, and I didn't want to screw things up while we were on tour."

"Well, I like you both too!" Julie interrupts. "So maybe this doesn't have to be that complicated?"

"You mean.. all three of us together?" Reggie asks. Julie bites her lip and nods. The boys grin, rushing in to grab her into a hug, laughing and grinning so much their faces hurt. But they only have a short window to really celebrate, as soon Julie is being dragged from their arms and catapulted onto the stage. She gives it her all, though she's sure when she does her big love ballad, her gaze keeps drifting to the wings were her brand new partners are waiting.

And if they share their first kiss during her wrap up vlog that night, well Julies doesn't really mind. But she certainly looks forward to the amount of confusion and squee in the comments.

#filled prompts #ficlet #rukebox #peterpatterlina #julie and the phantoms

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