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thebewilderer · 1 year

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I saw your confusion about the scary children's movies, so I'm here to explain. Now, you may not find them scary, you may have lived them as a kid, or watched then at an age where they wouldn't affect you.

But that's not the case for a lot of people. For me, the movie Coraline really messed with me, because I watched it WAY too young. I had nightmares about the Other Mother, about sewing buttons into my eyes, about Wiley getting his mouth sewn shut-

I mean, think about it. Those things are really scary! Especially when you're, like. Five.

Hi! I’m sorry i didn’t mean to be a dick about it :-( im sorry if it came off like that :-(

tbf I may have a biased sample size. My sister and I had a lot of restrictions on what movies (and other visual media) we could watch, but we didn’t have any restrictions at all on the number and types of books we could read though. I wound up reading both the novel and the graphic novel of Coraline before I ever watched the movie, and at that point it was kind of old hat to me

I was more confused by the stuff like Spirited Away (always wished I was the main character) and Nightmare Before Christmas (we loved it so much we convinced our parents it was a halloween and a christmas movie so we could watch it twice a year!) and The Spiderwick Chronicles (i was outside for days after that one trying to find a Creature to look at).

I guess I do still refuse to watch any movies with dogs in them, though. I can’t even watch the previews for dog movies without crying

#so i guess if i'd ever watched it my vote would probably be all dogs go to heaven? but i have not and i never will watch it #funnily enough i'm more freaked out by coraline as an adult than i was as a kid #prob bc as a kid i didnt understand metaphors and was just fascinated by all the alternate world stuff #i'm also surprised watership down wasnt on that list tbh #that's the one most people go for #''rabbits getting viciously ripped apart and drowning in poison'' gets to people #anyways i looked back at my tags on that post and they *are* a wee bit aggressive #im so bad at tone im sorry 🙏#there was a book called ''the cat that went to heaven'' that i read as a kid tho #that was just. SO upsetting #like its a good book its a nice book its happy but its also. happy in that sad way yk #highly recommend if you want to cry #im getting distracted #when i say ''no restrictions on reading material'' i *mean it* btw #i read Acheron by Sherrilyn Kenyon when i was like. twelve.#good book but it is the most rape and torture and misery filled book i've ever read #like goddamn #im off topic again sorry #mail #ih

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ihatebnha · 2 years

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boutta leave work so i just want to say thank u everyone for the lovely asks today!!! i had lots of fun w/ u all and hope u had fun with ME<3

i won’t be around much tomorrow cuz it’s my special day, so i’ll try to queue a few things up in the meantime tonight and attempt to return fully on sun-monday!!!

#not working much next week sad sad #but gonna be apartment hunted WEE IM SCARED and doing other stuff i am not sure #but i love u all #not writing #caitie thoughts

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thelaisydazy · 2 months

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Firefighter!Simon Riley x Reader - Locked Out

“Riley! Bad dog!”

You don’t have time to look up before a familiar German Shepherd barrels into you, knocking you to the ground and sending your keys skittering across the sidewalk.

You sputter as the dog licks your face before a hand grips Riley’s collar and pulls him off you. You wipe the dog slobber from your face and look up expecting to see Simon, instead you see a broad man with a short mohawk, attempting to reign in the overexcited dog.

“Sorry leannan, dinnae mean fur ‘im tae get away from me,” he said as you started to get back on your feet.

“S’alright,” you say, brushing off your pants. You give him a quick once over. He's wearing jeans and a tight fitting navy T-shirt with the fire department’s emblem on it.

He gives you a lopsided grin. “Lek whit ye see, bonnie?” He teases.

Your face feels warm as you attempt to stutter out a response.

“I'm only joking, lasso,” he chuckles at your embarrassment. He glances at the bakery door. “Gett’n off yer joab? Ye must be that wee thing the LT acts so sweet aboot.”

You stare at him for several moments, having little idea what he's saying. “I uh… I was just getting off work yeah,” you finally say. “Bakery's closed for the day, sorry.”

“Oh naw, I wasn’t look’n tae buy anyfing,” he said warmly. “Jus’ walkin’ Riley ‘ere.” He stuck a hand out. “Ye can call me Johnny.”

You shake his hand, giving him your name as well. “It’s nice to meet you,” you say. “I don’t mean to rush off, but I need to get home.” You stick your hands in your pockets, finally registering that your keys weren’t in their usual place. You pat your other pockets before looking around at the ground.

“Whit ye look’n fer?” Johnny asked.

“My keys,” you say. “I think I dropped them when Riley ran up.” Your eyes scan the sidewalk before spotting the storm drain by the curb. Johnny seems to read your mind as he walks over and looks through the grate.

“Wee charm oan it?” he asks.

You groan. Of course your keys had fallen into the storm drain. How were you supposed to get into your apartment now? Your landlord was away on holiday and he hadn’t left a spare behind. He wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night. You’d just spend the night in the bakery, but you’d already locked up for the night and no one would be back until morning.

Johnny seems to sense your distress as he claps you on the back, knocking you from your thoughts. “Ye can stay wi’ us at th’ station house,” he suggested. “We can even get yer keys oot th’ drain fur ye.”

“I don’t wanna be a both-” you start to say but are cut off by Johnny.

“Dinna fash!” he beamed at you. “ Nae trouble at all.”

Before you could protest, Johnny wraps a muscular arm over your shoulder and starts to guide you back to the station, grinning to himself as Riley trotted happily next to you. Simon was going to love this.

---

As a treat, here's a second one today <3

#call of duty #cod fanfic #cod #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #firefighter!simon riley #firefighter!ghost #141 firefighters #firefighter!soap #firefighter!john mactavish #soap #john soap mactavish x oc #john mactavish

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rae-dabae · 4 months

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VOID JOURNEY❤︎︎

( long post ahead‼️‼️)

Y’all……. A HOE DID IT!! I ENTERED THE VOID!!!! but i didn’t manifest anything :(((. So basically i don’t really even remember much from last night all i remember is falling asleep and seeing complete blackness. Now i’ve been to the void tons of times without know i’ve been there. @b4ddprincess realization void post OPENED MY FUCKING EYES and got me to realize what the void ACTUALLY was. That darkness you’re surrounded by when you fall asleep and you can’t move or speak or do anything else but literally exist. When i was like 10 i woke up in the void without and it was completely dark but i wasn’t scared n shit it was really REALLY fucking peaceful and i just kinda stayed there. I always thought that darkness was apart of the dream i was supposed to have but once i realized THAT was the void……..🤦🏾‍♀️. Now i went through a wee lil phase of looking for methods n trying them out n them not resonating with me at all. I was stressing myself out BUT I KNEW that the void was easy because I’ve literally been there tons of times. Doubts were eating me alive and really fucking with my confidence and making doubt if I’ve even actually entered the void(we literally enter the void every time we sleep so basically we always are in the void). After like 3-4 weeks of me repeating the same cycle of believing i can enter, not entering and repeating the same old story over n over again. I had enough and started to slowly pull away from obsessing over the void and I focused onward what i wanted. The entire point of me even entering was so that i could manifest ALL my desires at once. I decided to find something that I personally liked and believed i could succeed with. I like sleep methods the best because they’re the most relaxing for me. I like Sats/ Lullaby method but i every time i would try it i would think “ oh it didn’t work because i didn’t affirm long enough lemme try again” so i was secretly fucking myself up because i had made up this assumption if i didn’t affirm long enough I wouldn’t get in. There was one “method” that i likes the best and it was commanding/ ordering your subconscious to take you to the void. I decided to test it out to see if you can really manifest anything just by commanding your subconscious and GIRLLL….. it works. One sunday afternoon i was heavily dreading going to school and just was NOT feeling it, so i decided to test my subconscious and see if it could cancel school for me or just get me not to go without begging my parents or faking sick. I went “ Hey subconscious, im not feeling school tomorrow, cancel it for me” and after that i forgot about it. Later that night my school posts on instagram that someone threatened to BOMB OUR SCHOOL and tons of kids were protesting they cancel (being the piece of shit trashy stank ass school they are they didn’t cancel). All my friends were protesting not going cuz im not tryna get Bombed frl. I called my mom about it and she told me I didn’t have to go to school if i didn’t want to. Then I remembered what i told my subconscious and i went “ DAMNN subconscious i know i said i didn’t wanna go but BOMB THREATS??”( i don’t think I manifested the bomb threats because as much as i dread that place i would never even try doing that) that was the test that proved to me that subconscious really will do anything you tell it….insane. BACK TO LAST NIGHT ( i got distracted Srry) i commanded my subconscious before going to sleep to wake me up in the void but because of my loud ass african mother i couldn’t sleep so i waited until i felt tired and fell asleep. When i woke up i was still in my bedroom and i had thought i didn’t get in but then i tried remember if i dreamed last night and i didn’t remember having one. Actually i remember just being in complete darkness for a while then the rest is blurry. Then it hit me. I ENTEREDD. I know i had entered because it was the same feeling i got when i was 10 and entered. Anyways now i know how to enter and what works for me so STAY TUNED FOR A SUCCESS STORRYYY!!!( ill get into full detail and give some advice)

💕💕Bye my lovess!! 💕💕

#law of assumption #void #void state #void success #manifesation #neville goddard

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imthebadguyyy · 8 months

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Something Just Like This

pairing - charles leclerc x reader

fandom - f1

synopsis - a reflection on your relationship.

part - i (part ii)

warnings - talk about death, leukemia, badly translated french and the events may not be in order.

a/n - felt guilty for being away for so long so here's a wee little bit of a fic to make up for it!! all my love, always ♥️

when you were five,your dad had taken you to a go kart track in monaco, to watch a race with his childhood best friend, herve. having previously lived elsewhere, your trip to monaco with your parents was tremendously exciting, and you had nearly tripped over in your excitement at visiting a new country, and possibly making new friends. your dad had told you, "my friend has 3 sons himself, I'm sure you'll all get along very well"

so, you went, clutching your raggedy anne doll in one hand, and your model ferrari in the other, excitedly chattering away to your mummy and papa, eventually falling asleep on their shoulders.

when you awoke, you found yourself on a strange bed, with neither your doll nor your car beside you, and your parents seemed to have vanished too. the easy tears that had always been ready to spring to your eyes did their job, and your bottom lip began to wobble.

just before you could burst into tears, a pretty lady with kind eyes looked in at the door, and upon seeing your trembling lip, walked in with a soft coo.

"ma cherie, don't cry. are you looking for your maman and papa?" she asked, sitting down beside you.

"yes I am, do you know where they are?" you asked, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand as you spoke. "yes cherie, they're here, in the living room. im pascale, your parents friend! my husband, herve, is your dad's friend. come, let me introduce you"

and so you followed her to the living room, clutching into her finger for dear life, and the moment you spotted your parents, you ran to your mama, clambering into her lap and hiding your face in her hair.

"hello! are you y/n?" a little boy asked, with messy dark hair a sweet smile. you nodded, looking at him curiously. "I'm Lorenzo, but you can call me enzo!" he said with a smile. "hello" you mumbles softly, taking in your surroundings.

you took in the pretty apartment, with the bright sunlight and the pretty paintings, before something on the floor caught your eye.

there was another boy on the carpet, with brown hair and green eyes, who had in his clutch your missing ferrari toy.

"hey thats my car!" you exclaimed, sliding off your mother's lap to sit on the floor"

"that can't be your car, girls don't play with cars!" the boy exclaimed, holding it close.

"now charles, of course they can! and that is y/n's car so why don't you ask her if you can play with it together?" pascale interrupted, sensing a fight about to break out

"ok, im sorry y/n, can we share this car please? i love ferrari!" he exclaimed, flashing you a bright smile, and it was at that moment that your little five year old heart fell hard for the boy.

the two of you spent the afternoon together, playing with your ferrari and all his other cars, and laughing and giggling with lorenzo, and also playing with baby arthur.

your parents watched with smiles, realizing their children were forming life long bonds.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

no one could have foreseen how you would be joined at the hip forever after that. your parents moved to monaco for a job your dad got, and you started living just down the block from the leclerc's. that meant Saturday night dinners at either of your houses, and lazy Sundays spent at the beach or at go kart races.

you even went to the same school as the boys, with either of your parents picking you up and dropping you off.

as the years passed, you and charles got closer and closer, and it was a rare occasion where you weren't stuck at the hip.

you found in him the best friend you always wanted, funny, kind and caring, and always ready to have your back, something he proved on the very first day of school, when he punched a kid who pulled on your pigtails.

his parents weren't happy but when a tearful charles explained that "i couldn't let him hurt y/n/n!! i love her!!" pascale softened and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"you love her, do you?" she asked with a chuckle, when the boy nodded furiously. "she's my best friend, nobody should make her upset" he said determinedly, making his dad chuckle too.

"ok, mon fils, tu n'as pas de problèmes"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･

on your sixteenth birthday, the leclercs joined your family for a special dinner on the beach. your dad rented a yacht and you guys had spent the day sailing on it, and trying to catch fish and swimming in the blue water. you had all laughed and screamed and lorenzo had taught you how to do a proper cannonball into the water. your mother's had scolded him for teaching you such unladylike things, and he in turn said "but she's y/n! no one's expecting her to be ladylike!" at which point you had dunked him in the water.

you tuckered each other out by swimming around, and participating in a chicken fight with the leclercs. it was you in charles' shoulder, and arthur on lorenzo's. of course, you won.

it reminded you of when you were children, always together, always messing around in some way or the other. but with Charles spending more and more time racing, you got to see the leclercs much lesser than you'd have liked to.

so communication with Charles became through letters, written to him when he went out of the country to race, with his dad and brother. pascale was a regular visitor but meeting charles had become something to be cherished, what with you busy trying to get auditions to be a singer.

in the years that had passed, you and charles had become extremely close, meeting each other whenever possible and becoming each others support system whenever the other needed it. so of course it was fitting that he was your designated best friend, your confidante, your favourite leclerc (but we won't tell arthur that)

so that night after dinner, when charles suggested you take a walk together on the beach, you thought nothing of it. not until he pulled out a small bracelet he had made, out of seashells, that you gasped, leaping into his arms for a tight hug.

"i want you to have something to remember me by when I go racing, ma jolie, i know I'm not always around, but this way you'll always have a piece of me with you, even if I'm not there" he whispered, dropping a small kiss you your forehead.

gentle kisses and hugs and touch were not unusual for you, it was your love language and it always had been, ever since you were kids.

but there had always been a lingering crush you had on him (and him on you but we'll talk about that later) and you felt your belly burn red hot when his lips dropped to your cheek.

you pulled him in close for a hug, hand running through his hair, freshly cut by his mother.

"merci, ma vie" you whispered, pressing a kiss to his wrist, and as the both of you stayed there, your head on his shoulder, his head on yours, cozy on a rug he had stolen, watching the beautiful monaco sunset, you swore you had never loved anyone as much as you had in that moment.

and charles realized it too, looking over at you, and how the sunset cast a golden hue on your mesmerizing eyes, and the way your hair shimmered softly, and your skin glowed bright, and he swore he had never seen a sight prettier, and his little teenage heart fell a little harder for the five year old who worse pigtails and loved ferrari as much as he did.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

however, your story wasn't always just sunshine and rainbows. when you were seventeen, your dad was diagnosed with leukemia.

the news came as a shock to you, especially when the doctor told you, he did not have strong chances of recovery even with the proper surgery and treatment. you'd never forget your mother's wail, as she sobbed over your father's fate, and how pascale and herve were there for her through it all, but for you, you couldn't breathe.

you ran to the park, crawling under the slide set, your breathing harsh and shallow. your eyes were blurring and every breath sent a sharp pain shooting down your chest. around you, the world seemed to spin and you closed your eyes, drawing your knees in, and begging your brain to stop, and pressing a hand to your chest.

before you knew it you were gasping, every gasp making you more and more dizzy, and your heart seemed to be banging against your chest to get out.

"am i dying?" you thought to yourself, labouring gasps echoing in the darkness.

"and am i hearing things?" you also asked yourself, because you could have sworn you heard charles' voice.

and lo and behold, he appeared, panting and sweaty, sinking down next to you, grabbing your sweaty hands in his own and pushing his forehead down to yours.

"cherie? ma jolie? regarde-moi s'il te plaît, regarde-moi. maman told me what happened. please cherie, breathe for me, i need you to breathe. peux-tu respirer pour moi?" he begged, rubbing your back slowly and pressing kisses to your nose.

slowly, your breathing slowed down, but as it did, tears began to stream down your face, and ugly sobs wracked your body.

Charles felt his heart break, watching the strongest girl he knew break down in his arms, tears and sweat pooling on his shirt as you sobbed.

"i know, Cherie, i know" he whispered, his own eyes glazing over. he loved your dad as much as your dad loved him, and he couldn't believe it when his mother told him the news. he pulled you in even closer, so you were straddling his lap, and kept rubbing your back, whispering sweet nothings to you.

"papa, il va mourir et il va nous laisser maman et moi seules" you wailed into his shoulder and he shushed you gently.

"no no no, cherie, listen to me, please?" he asked, pulling your chin up, heart breaking when he saw your red eyes and runny nose.

you nodded slowly, still hiccupping, but letting him pull you into his chest.

"y/n, i cannot tell you what the future holds for your papa. but I can promise you that you and mama will never be alone, ever. even if the day comes when we have to say goodbye to your papa, you will never, ever be alone, not while I am there, not while maman is there, not while papa is there, and not while lorenzo and arthur are there. you are my family, y/n, and family sticks together. I'm here for you, always" he whispered.

you looked at him, your heartbroken eyes looking into his sincere green ones, seeing the same pain reflected in them. and in that moment, you knew it was right when you leaned in, and he did too.

your lips met that cold, dark, rainy evening, under the shade of the slide set in the park, but your souls had intertwined when you were five, and you could have sworn you had never felt more alive than you did at the moment.

and while your heart broke and sagged with the weight of losing your father so soon, it also ached with love at having charles with you. so when you drew back, still tasting, the salty tears you both had shed, he pulled you back in for a tighter hug.

"toujours là pour toi cherie, toujours."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you lost your dad the following year, in 2016, and charles was by your side at the funeral, watching you cry as you placed a white rose on his casket.

you had never spoken about that kiss again, and neither of you had thought it was the right time to bring it up in the months that followed.

charles watched as your mother, the woman he so admired, crumbled before him, lost without her guiding light. is that how it would ever be if you ever lost him?

the fear that coursed through his heart shocked him. he couldn't imagine what it would be like, to loose someone he loved so dearly.

his father had taken over as a surrogate father for you, and constant support for your mother. but the leclercs knew something that you didn't, their father wasn't keeping very well either, but no one had the heart to tell the l/n's, not when you were already suffering through so much.

after the funeral, there was a small tea at your own house, but you couldn't bear to be there. so at the first opportunity, you slipped away, leaving your mother in pascales care.

you ran, not caring where, until you found yourself at the beach. you sat down, pulling off your shoes and throwing your hat away, before sinking down on your knees to the sand.

you sobbed, salty tears dripping down your face, holding the locket your dad gave you in your hands, and once again, a familiar smell filled your nose as a warm body settled in next to you. charles.

"hi cherie" he whispered, wrapping an arm around you.

"hello" you whispered, mustering up a small smile.

"ma courageuse fille" he whispered softly, making you giggle and sob at the same time.

"i have to be strong for maman" you admitted. "she has no one but me in this world anymore" you whispered, eyes blurring again.

"she has us, always" charles said determinedly. "and we aren't going anywhere" he said, taking your hand in his.

and as the sun set once again, you reminicsed about a simpler, sweeter time, when you and charles where carefree and innocent, not scarred by life and it's harsh realities.

there was something special in that sunset, you noted, resting your head on charles shoulder again. perhaps your papa was trying to indicate that charles was the one for you.

but at the moment, sitting by the beach, in a moment of joined sorrow, you had never felt more human.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

with charles growing success in f2, and you finally getting a record deal, life was going well.

until you were told that herve was not doing well. denial flooded your brain. no. how was this possible? how could god take both the father's in your life to disease and illness?

you screamed and wailed and cursed, too stung, too bitter, about life.

and then the day came, in 2017. when pascale called you sobbing and lorenzo came to your door knocking wildly.

"c'est papa,il ne se réveille pas !! tante laura, qu'est-ce qu'on fait?!'

your mom was out the door in an instant and you followed, following a heartbroken lorenzo to the door of the house you knew so well.

you could hear pascales wails before you even reached, and the easy tears rose again but you forced them down.

you had to be strong for your second family, and with a deep breath, you pushed the door in.

what you saw broke you.

charles, sobbing on the sofa, head in his hands, while arthur sat next to his mother, in tears.

your mother dealt with all the formalities but you stuck to charles, letting him cry into your shoulder, holding him the hold day, whispering how much you loved him and how sorry you were to him, and promising him that he wasn't alone.

you comforted arthur too, holding the boy in your arms, wrapping him in the tightest hug.

you had never felt more respect for Lorenzo, ever the big brother, tears streaming down him face, even though he stayed so strong for his family.

later that evening, you held charles in their balcony, wrapped in a blanket that you had knitted for him.

"i feel so hollow, so empty" he admitted, burying his face deeper into your neck, trying his best to stay grounded by inhaling the scent of your perfume.

"i feel as if a piece of my heart has been snatched away and I'll never be okay again" he admitted, tears filling his eyes for the hundredth time that day.

"i know, charles, believe me I know" you whispered softly to him, running your hands through his hair, "but a wise boy I know once told me, that I was never ever going to be alone. he told me 'even if the day comes when we have to say goodbye to your papa, you will never, ever be alone, not while I am there' and today charles, I am saying the same to you. i know that it hurts like anything right now and that pain will never go away"

"feel that pain charles. it's what makes you human, ma vie,and i know it hurts. but I am here for you. take out all your pain and I will be there to catch you when you fall. i will be there to put you back together when you fall apart. i am here for you ma vie, always" you whispered to him, and he choked out a sob, curling himself into you, never more sure of his love for you.

"i lied and told him I got the ferrari seat" he finally choked out, and with a soft whisper of "oh charles" you pulled him in close.

there it was.

the reason why he felt like his soul was being eaten up inside.

"charles, mon coeur, i promise, you will get that ferrari seat. it will be soon, and you will have kept that promise to your papa, i have a feeling mon coeur, that your future in formula 1 will be as bright and shiny as you, and you are going to get everything you deserve, i know you will"

and he chose to take solace in your words.

just like he took solace in your soul.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you made your formula 2 debut alongside charles at Baku that year. everyday you were left more in awe of the powerful force that he was, ready to race in less than a week, because he felt he owed it to the man who made him who he was.

so you told him you'd go with him, be his support and be there for him when he needed you to most.

and you were left spellbound yet again, at his talent, his resilience, his drive, his passion.

p fucking 1. at a race that meant the world to him.

and as he ran towards you after, body colliding with yours so hard you swear some of your bones snapped, you told him everything you had to in your embrace.

rough racing gloves on delicate skin, frenzied pulling closer and harsh breathing. thats all you remembered from the moment, looking deep into his emerald ,knowing the media was having a field day.

"I'm so so so so proud of you so fucking proud" you whispered. "and i know your dad is too" you continued, pressing a small kiss to his helmet.

when he stood on the podium, tears streamed down your cheeks. you were so so so proud of him.

and as he looked down at you, he smiled, knowing you were always going to be his brightest star.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Charles' journey is formula 1 started with Sauber but you knew for a fact that he wouldn't stay there.

when kimi announced he was leaving ferrari, you called charles and screamed into his ears "YOURE GOING TO GET THAT FUCKING SEAT MARK MY WORDS" and he had simply chuckled saying he was hoping for the best.

so when in the middle of recording a song, your phone rang with charles' name, you dropped everything you were doing and picked up the phone.

"je l'ai fait. j'ai eu le siège"

"quoi?"

"le siège ferrari. j'ai compris. c'est à moi. je vais être pilote de ferrari pour 2019"

the scream you let out was so loud your producer jumped out of his skin.

"I'm so proud of you!! J'ai toujours su que tu l'aurais, tu mérites le monde et plus encore!!" you screamed, tears streaming down your face and you heard charles laugh.

"merci, mon cherie. i will celebrate with you soon" he chuckled.

"obviously you will!! I'll be home soon, let me just finish this album first and then I am all yours" you laughed.

oh how you longed to be all his. it's all you'd ever wanted since you were a teenager.

charles' heart ached.

oh how he longed for you to be all his. it was all he'd ever wanted since he was a teenager.

later that day, you wrote the song feels like.

social media had a breakdown.

charles had a breakdown.

but that's mainly because he'd rather you wrote a love song about him.

unbeknownst to him, you had atleast a 100 lovesongs written about him.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

clicking your pen for the hundredth time, you let out a sigh.

this songwriting thing was so frustrating.

it seemed like you had a billion ideas but nothing compact came out of it.

with a deep sigh, you let your hand crash against the piano, letting the discordant notes ring in your apartment.

but the ending caught your attention.

humming, you grabbed your pen again, jotting down, scribbling down all the things you wanted to say but never would.

being a singer had always been, and just as charles was flourishing in his career, you were flourishing in yours. you had already won a grammy for your album 'nostalgia' and had won amas, Brit awards, and 2 vma awards.

'the rising star of pop' was what they affectionately called you.

you had stunned the world with your versatility and range and the depth of your songs. ballads like gravity and last kiss had shown your emotional depth. songs like when I get there and make you feel my love had showing your delicate, romantic, vulnerable side. songs like happier reflected your pain.

your song fat funny friend had shot you into the global scene when you released it as a single. millions of fans wrote to you, thanking you for being vulnerable so others could feel seen.

and of course, no one picked up on the secret ballads for charles, pinning it down to young love and romance that was usual for all people your age.

so as you finally finished the song and smiled, you knew they wouldn't guess for this one either.

but you would know.

and so you sent it to be your next single.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

summer break rolled around, and you had a new mission - confessing your feelings for charles.

you were sure the timing was right.

you had to tell your best friend in the whole world that you were madly in love with him.

you told pascale, who squealed and told you "welcome to the family officially!!' earning a laugh from you.

"let me tell the boy first maman, then I'll tell you what he says"

"of course he'll say he loves you too! i know my son cherie, he's been in love with you since you were children, he's just too stupid to do anything about it" she joked affectionately and you laughed.

"j'espere que tu as raison maman. i love him very much" you admitted, blushing a little.

"of course darling. come to dinner tonight, everyone will be there, you can tell him then" she smiled, and you got up to go get dressed, pressing two kisses to her cheek.

back home, you nervously scouted your cupboard to see what you could wear. you showered and washed your hair, and put on a red dress that charles had gifted you when he got his seat.

smiling at the memory, you put on your makeup, did your hair and took a deep breath.

you were really going to do it. you were going to tell the man you had loved your whole life that you loved him.

the drive to the leclercs house was nerve wracking, and ringing the doorbell to their home was even more nerve wracking. you saw lorenzo there already, and he rose to greet you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"how are you y/n? i haven't spoken to you in a long time no?" he asked, sitting down next to you.

"I'm good enzo, very busy with recording. howve you been? I'm sorry i haven't been keeping in touch, I've just been very busy" you apologised, feeling guilty for not spending a lot of time with the oldest Leclerc.

"don't be silly, soeur, i understand you are busy. and your music, it's been a joy to listen to. you're truly a talent, ma belle" he said, and you could feel yourself getting emotional.

"aw, enzo, meri beaucoup, votre avis est très important pour moi" you said, giving him another hug.

he poured you a glass of wine, a small smile playing on his lips.

"so, is tonight finally the night?" he asked with a smirk, remembering how smitten you were for his brother.

you blushed, taking a sip of your wine to cover for it.

"yes, I'm going to tell him tonight" you admitted and he flashed you a warm smile of encouragement.

"Tell who what?" a voice interrupted, and the youngest leclerc plopped himself down next to you.

"y/n/n's going to tell charlie she loves him" lorenzo stated matter of factly, making you Tut and whack his arm.

"quoi? are we not telling arthur?" he asked, feigning hurt.

"i was going to tell him" you whined and then you turned to arthur.

"you must swear to not bring this up until it's over okay?" you told arthur, trying and failing to be stern.

arthur pretended to be hurt.

"of course I won't? what do you take me for, a gossip box?"

"yes" you and lorenzo chimed in unison.

arthur gasped dramatically, making you roll your eyes.

"do you really think that low of me?" he asked, pretending to cover his eyes in agony.

"yes, now shush, i think i heard the bell ring" Lorenzo said, getting up to open the door.

you bit your lip nervously, preparing for charles to walk in the day.

and he did. he looked gorgeous as ever, in a shirt the cover of deep red wine, hair tousled by the wind on his drive, but his eyes and smile were as bright as ever.

your heart started beating so fast you swore you almost had a heart attack.

but nothing could have prepared you for what he said next.

"everyone, i want you to meet charlotte"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n - aaaand drum roll please 🥁 cliffhanger!!

i promise i won't leave you hanging but this was getting too long and it needed some ✨spice✨ i know this wasn't the best and the timeline wasnt cohesive but I needed to get this out of my system so pls go easy on your girl.

feedback, comments,opinions, reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🩷

hope you had a good read!! much love always xoxo

taglist -

everything - @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird @roslastyles420

f1 - @theonly1outof-a-billion

to be added to the taglist send me an ask, dm or comment 🩷

masterlist

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

#Charles Leclerc #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #Charles Leclerc imagines #Charles Leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #f1 #formula 1 #f1 imagines #f1 drivers x reader #f1 drivers #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #cl #cl16

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rubra-wav · 2 months

Note

Hi! I’m autistic and a lesbian and my current hyper fixation/ comfort show is Hazbin Hotel and my favorite/comfort character is Angel Dust. I was wondering if you could write a platonic Angel x gn/fem reader that is angsty and involves the reader comforting and taking care of Angel after a really bad night with Valentino. With cuddling, and handholding and Angel dealing with addiction/ self harm and the reader just being there and supporting him or something. I totally understand if not I just thought I would ask. Also I’m a huge fan of your work!!

Safe and Sound If Only For Now (Angel Dust x Reader fic)

A/N Absolutely can, and 100% understand the vision. THE BOY NEEDS TO BE TAKEN CARE OF. 🗣

Also, thank you sm im glad my writing is being enjoyed 🙏

CW: marking it as NSFW due to the themes within but theres not any actual smut, hurt/comfort, angst, gn!reader, written as platonic but could be seen as romantic as well, Angel throws up at one point(dk if I need to tw that), themes of s/h and addiction, reference to trauma responses and mentions of physical and sexual abuse

When you were called downstairs by a very concerned Charlie at the wee hours of the morning, you knew that the night Angel Dust had was hell without having to even see him.

He'd apparently stumbled loudly through the door about 10 minutes ago, clearly not sober but still demanding a drink looking absolutely trashed. Husk had attempted to touch his shoulder, and the bartender was promptly smacked away with a yell to 'not touch him!'

Your footsteps had pattered loudly on the creaky floorboards down the hall of your hotel room as you quickly made your way to the bar where you knew he was.

And there you found him.

The hunched over, trembling figure of your friend with two of his arms folded around his head, a glass of alcohol you know tasted like utter shit clutched in another shaky hand.

Husk looked at you tiredly from behind the bar with clear relief on his features as he gestured to Angel with a look that asked you to take care of him - do what he couldn't in this moment.

It had taken a lot of verbal coaxing to get Angel to put down the drink and come with you to your room, but he eventually allowed you to gently grip his hand and tug him up the stairs and back down the hall to your room.

The second the door had shut behind the two of you, he'd completely fallen apart as you told him he was safe now.

That's how you were in this situation now, slumped on the floor next to the bed with Angel's face buried into the front of your shirt, your arms pulling his face closer and running your fingers through his messed up fur, carefully avoiding touching his neck and shoulders as you whispered to him softly to let it out.

Seconds ticked into minutes as his previously loud crying had slowly turned into broken, shaking sobs that were barely audible as you sat there with him slumped against you.

It was rather uncomfortable, your knees digging into the coarse rug on the floor of your room, but at the moment, that didn't much matter.

"'ank you. 'Ank you 'o much." He slurred out finally, voice cracking with emotion.

You hummed in response, relieved to hear his voice finally.

You removed your hands from where they were combing through his fur and instead cupped his cheeks, pulling his face away from your chest carefully.

Sympathy and anger stabbed through you painfully as you observed the darkening bruise on his puffy under-eye that had now been exposed with his tears. That asshole.

You brushed a thumb over the bruise with a furrowed brow, your frown deepening at the way he winced despite you barely even grazing it. You quickly moved your thumb away.

Angel's unfocused, bloodshot eyes watched you react to it with clear guilt. He swallowed thickly as he forced a grin onto his face. "'T's nothin' I'm not used to, toots." He mumbled. He could tell you didn't believe it for a second, and his heart sank despite all the alcohol knocking through him. Shit, he didn't want to sober up.

He could feel the pain he was trying to numb already creeping back into his body, though, and he 'tsk'd' with a hissing breath.

You shook your head slowly and got a better look at him as his eyes shut with a wince.

His jacket was a mess, a bite mark that was still bleeding soaking into his collar peaked out at you, and you grit your teeth as you looked down to see more droplets soaking into other places as well on his sides and hips.

Christ.

"I'm going to go get some things to help fix you up. Are you okay with taking a shower on your own?" You murmured softly but very seriously.

Angel forced his eyes open and nodded despite moving being the last thing he wanted to do right now, having you leave being even lower on that list.

"Yeah.. 'ut get me a change of clothes while you're out. That is unless you wanna see me in nothing more than a towel." He joked with a humour that was obviously not present, voice still very much hoarse.

You smiled at the comment half-heartedly and nodded. "I'll be right back, I swear." You gently patted his cheek before gripping his hands to help him stand up. With the tremendous height difference, it didn't do too much, but you could see he was appreciative of it nonetheless.

After a couple of minutes, you came back into the room with a change of clothes, a first aid kit, and a water bottle in one hand, a cup of hot chocolate in the other made just how liked it.

Angel was sitting on your bed awkwardly with a white towel draped over his lap. As he stood up and turned the other way to slip on the pair of shorts you'd bought him, you could fully see some of the multiple bite marks that were seeping into Angel's fur, matting it.

Your fists clenched and unclenched but you still didn't voice the silent fury coursing through you at what had clearly happened to him.

You placed the hot chocolate in Angel's hands as he sat back down, receiving a barely audible thanks, and then set into disinfecting the various marks and patching them up.

Each time he tensed up and hissed due to the disinfectant, you apologised profusely but didn't stop as you wanted to get it over as soon as possible for his sake.

Angel dug his teeth into the mug in his hands to avoid biting his tongue or cheek as he winced in pain, the hot drink on your part both a crutch and a grounding tool so he didn't dissociate away from everything completely.

If that happened, he knew he'd most likely pass out and that was the last thing he needed to do right now while you were making sure he didn't get some horrific infection from the wounds he'd sustained.

He was so incredibly tired of so much.

He didn't want to keep seeing the blurred images of the afternoon and night that made him want to start sobbing again.

He couldn't even remember properly, it was all a blur; hungry hands on him, faces and bodies he couldn't quite remember, and Valentino's red eyes looking down on him as his fist closed around his neck. All his memories were out of place, like a ripped up photograph rearranged wrongly.

Angel didn't even know what he'd done to get punished by him today.

He'd come to realise there was no real reason though due to you telling him as much, and that searching for it would just make spiral. It wasn't his fault that that moth-winged cunt had decided to break him today.

Or at least, that was the logical answer.

He still remembered the words that plagued him through the mess of memories and painful sensations staring at back at him like a hall of mirrors, though. 'You brought this upon yourself, Angelcakes.' Said through a cruel, patronising grin right before those same teeth dug into him again, and again, and again.

Angel grit his teeth as the memory made his head hurt before gagging as horrific nausea suddenly hit him all at once.

You cursed, having just finished up patching his wounds and pulled him towards the bathroom sink in your ensuite.

You took the hot chocolate from his hands before using the other to sweep his fur out of the way just in time as he started wretching loudly into the sink.

You patted his back awkwardly as he threw up all of what he'd been binging for the night in rapid succession, looking at a crack near the door frame of your bathroom to try give him some semblance of privacy.

After a couple of seconds, Angel panted with a horrified expression on his face at the taste in his mouth, shuddering.

"That was fuckin nasty, 'm sorry." Angel cringed, trembling with exertion as he washed out the sink and his mouth.

"If you're sick, you're sick, Angie." You continued rubbing his back gently as Angel straightened up, sighing in relief as he felt more steady now that everything had all been purged from his system.

One part of himself wanted to go bother Husk for more to drink, but he pushed it away, instead opting for the now lukewarm cup of hot chocolate that was sitting neglected on the edge of the bathroom sink.

He gripped the mug and threw it back, chugging it in the hope of washing out the horrific taste that still stuck around.

"Wait a second, I'll give you the painkillers with that." You called over you shoulder as you went to rummage through the first aid kit.

Angel slowly walked out of the bathroom after you, hunched over to be about your height as he waited for the pills. He tiredly spaced out as he looked at your hands going through the pile of stuff you'd brought.

You pressed the meds into his palm, and watched as he quickly downed it. "Do you wanna stay in my room tonight?" You asked as you cleared the stuff off of your bed.

You didn't really need the verbal confirmation as Angel flopped down onto your bed with a loud groan as he finally relaxed, exhaustion passing over every part of him.

You chuckled softly, and crawled up next to him, gently wrapping your arms loosely around his lower back as you pulled his face into your chest again.

He wrapped his arms around you in turn, another one of his hands creeping towards yours in silent request. You understood, lacing your fingers with his and gently nuzzled affectionately into the top of his head.

You could feel him start shaking softly again, once again tearing up despite everything. You tightened your embrace as you felt wet tears sink into your shirt again.

"It's okay, honey. It's okay. You're safe here with me." You repeated.

"Thank you 'o much." Angel whispered, tightening his grip on you in an attempt to bring you and your warmth to the bottomless pit of despair he constantly tried to forget.

"No problem. I love you, Angie. I really hope you know that." You gently kissed the top of his head, squeezing your hand laced with his reassuringly. "Now come on, try to get some sleep, you must be exhausted."

Angel's crying slowly stopped as the feeling of the security you provided swept over him like a warm blanket, creeping into every last crack in himself and filling it. The rhythmic beat of your heart under his cheek lulled him to complete calmness.

He didn't want it to end, but he still slipped into the warm embrace of sleep.

If only for a small while, the lock on his prison cell wasn't as cold, and the bars were not visible through your arms.

All that shit could wait until tomorrow.

I've read over it multiple times, but if there are errors y'all can see reading this one pls lmk - my brains been on wrong a bit today.

Bruh I just want Angel to be happy and cared for istg, he deserves it. 😭

#angel dust headcanons #angel dust x reader #hazbin hotel angel dust #me contemplating writing valentino getting the shit kicked out of him after this one fr #hazbin hotel

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lovebugism · 1 year

Note

hi babe hope this isn’t too personal but not having the greatest time right now. therapist did not answer any of my calls today so im kinda a mess 🥲🥲 if you’re willing to write any kind of comfort fic with any character that would be the best 💗💗💗

hi anon! i hope things are going better now! take this eddie munson comfort fic as my attempts to make you feel a wee bit better ily mwah <3

You were pretty good at taking care of yourself most of the time. Eddie always thought your innate sense of responsibility was extremely hot — mostly because it meant that you were even better at taking care of him.

He said it was a perk of being your boyfriend — “one of many,” he’d say, just before smacking a kiss to your cheek.

You were the yin to his yang in that way. Peace in all his chaos.

Eddie, himself, was a being who thrived on mayhem. There wasn’t a single thing he loved more than unpredictability — well, you, of course. Then maybe DnD. But spontaneity was a close third.

He isn’t quite sure how to live his life without the company of total disarray. He isn’t sure he would want to if he had the chance either. The unexpected makes things fun. At least, that’s what he always tells you. You’re not so sure.

When he makes you late to things because of his horrible time management skills, or he can’t find his keys because they’re hidden somewhere underneath a pile of clothes in the corner of his room, it feels a little like the end of the world.

And not just in the oh no, this thing is really stressing me out; good thing I know it’s illogical sort of way. But in the oh fuck, we’re gonna be ten minutes late to this get-together where there are zero consequences whether we show up or not, but it’s inducing so much panic that I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to function properly.

You’ve gotten pretty good at hiding your fear over the years. It’s just that Eddie’s so damn attuned to everything going on in your head that it makes it insanely difficult to wallow in your dread alone.

He knows when you start pacing and talking a million miles a minute that something’s working you up. He knows when you start getting snappy and don’t think his jokes are funny anymore that you’re close to your breaking point. He knows when you stop talking altogether that your entire world is caving in around you.

So Eddie takes great care in getting to things on time and tidying up his room when you're around. He doesn’t even care that he finds it all a bit irrational, he just wants to make things easier for you. Even if it means getting to Steve’s house an hour before everyone else or actually folding his clothes before putting them in drawers.

Eddie knows you use structure like a weapon rather than a shield. Organization isn't a way to keep your life together, it’s to keep it from falling apart. When something is out of order, when there’s one piece out of place, it’s not an easy fix — not for you. It’s more like a ticking tomb.

You’re the ticking time bomb. And the faintest scent of disorder is bound to make you explode.

But maybe calling it a bomb isn’t the most accurate way to describe it. The way Eddie sees it, it’s a lot more like an avalanche.

It starts off small, a little rumble of uncertainty that jostles the comfort of your routine. You blink and suddenly the snowball weighs two tons and you’ve spiraled into a full-blown crisis that threatens to swallow you whole.

You don’t let anyone see any of it. Not even Eddie a lot of the time. You just bury yourself in the landslide until the heavy snow melts and you can function normally again — it may last a couple hours, maybe weeks.

So it’s a good thing Eddie can see all the warning signs before they start.

It’s all the little shit he notices first — the not showering as often, the not keeping things as tidy as usual, the closing yourself off. Eddie Munson knows a depression room when he sees one. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know you’re slipping.

But rather than acknowledge that boogeyman, he pretends like it isn’t there at all. He thinks if he acts like it doesn’t scare him, then it doesn’t have the power to hurt him. That’s exactly how he treats the funks you get into. He knows they’re there but doesn’t let them take over completely.

Eddie comes around whenever he gets the chance and helps you do your self-care routine — even though all you do is complain that you don’t need his help the entire time.

He coaxes you into the bath and tidies up your bedroom while you’re gone. He does all the steps of your skincare for you after because he knows you can’t do it yourself. You’re too tired to, but you feel like shit when you don’t. That’s the same bitter cycle that started this whole mess.

He doesn’t do anything crazy. He just takes care of the little things to make you feel less consumed by it all.

You’re a pouting mess in the middle of your bed after, freshly cleaned and drowning in a too big shirt that smells like the musk of Eddie’s cologne with a towel twisted up in your hair. It’s almost cartoonish, the way you cross your arms over your chest and scrunch your face in displeasure.

“I don’t want you to do all this stuff for me, Eds,” you gripe. “I’m a big girl, okay? I can do it myself.”

The boy shrugs from where he stands at the foot of your bed. “I know I don’t have to. I want to, though. I like doing this stuff for you.”

“You hate cleaning, Eddie.”

“Yeah. I do,” he affirms with a nod, all but flopping onto the mattress beside you. He rests his head on his fist and blinks up at you with wide, twinkling button eyes. A grin pulls at his pink lips as he asks you, “But you know what I don’t hate?”

You huff but entertain him anyway. “…What?”

“You,” he beams and taps the tip of your nose with his pointer finger.

You meet his smile with a grimace.

“Actually, I sort of love you, as it turns out,” he corrects himself in a lilt. “And when you love someone, you do the shit you hate to make them happy, right? Isn’t that what it’s all about?”

You don’t answer him, just shrug.

“Well, either way, I’m happy to do all the boring shit if it means there’s a chance I get to make you feel even a little bit better,” Eddie tells you, pinching his thumb and forefinger together and leaving just an inch or more of space to squint his eye through.

That hand flops down and lands on your thigh. His thumb absentmindedly rubs over the skin there. His smile turns sheepish.

“I will happily fold laundry and do taxes and wash dishes and… all that stupid, boring shit for you for the rest of my life, as long as I can look over and see you next to me…”

Your heart swells with a distant happiness you haven’t felt in weeks.

Eddie helps you until you feel better enough to do it yourself.

Needless to say, when he stops by your place and finds it completely spotless, he doesn’t bother to hide his excitement. He rushes to your room and finds you in bed, flipping through a book. The small radio on your bedside table plays something synth-y.

He realizes you’ve traded in The Smiths for The Psychedelic Furs and that your lavender candle is burning on your desk and that you’ve spritzed yourself in your vanilla perfume.

Those are all staples in your little routine that you borderline can’t live without. You always missed out on them when you got into your funks, but here they are again…

Eddie tries not to smile too wide.

“How’s it hangin’?” he sing-songs when he waltzes into your room.

“Fine...” you murmur, half-distracted by your novel. After a few long seconds, your eyes finally flit up to his. He’s doing a terrible job of hiding a grin. “…Why are you looking at me like that?”

Eddie shrugs as he takes off his leather jacket. He neatly lays the thing over the back of your desk chair and smooths out the wrinkles.

“‘Cause I love the shit out of you,” he answers like it’s nothing, like the words don’t mean everything to you. “And I’m really fucking proud of you.”

“Proud of me?” you echo in a scoff.

Because, to you, crawling out of a three week long funk is hardly something to be proud of. You don’t feel like you should be rewarded for being human, but Eddie knows that getting through the hard shit is a part of being human. And he’s so goddamn proud of you for it.

“Yep,” he nods with pink cheeks and a hopeful grin. “I’ve never been prouder of you, babe. And, like, I’m always proud of you, so that’s saying something.”

“Shut up,” you mutter under your breath. Your attention flits back to your book rather than focusing on the intense gaze Eddie looks at you with. You don’t get through a single sentence before he rips the thing from your hands. “Eddie!—”

You look at him again and find that he’s sterner now, but still so tender — chocolate eyes hardened but soft around the edges. There’s a kind grin on his and an air about him that tells you he’s serious.

Eddie rounds your bed and plants himself at the edge of it. He keeps your book hostage in one hand and holds onto your calf with the other, running his thumb over the soft skin of your knee.

“I’m serious,” he tells you. “Like, I know shit gets hard for you sometimes, but... I don't know, watching you get through it is… really fucking cool, babe.”

He laughs when it makes you laugh.

“Seriously. It’s like you get stronger every day, and… not to be a total sap or whatever, but I feel really lucky that I get to see it.”

You’re not sure whether to duck away from his gaze or revel in its warmth. You manage somehow to do both with a distant pout on your face.

Eddie’s grin widens until the dimple in his right cheek reveals itself. “What?” he laughs. “What’s that look for?”

“‘Cause you’re nice to me,” you mumble like the cutest little storm cloud. “And it’s gross… And also I love you.”

“Well, get ready, babe. You got a whole lifetime of me being nice to you coming your way, so… Be prepared to be sick of me by the time we’re all old and wrinkly, alright? ‘Cause I’m still gonna love the shit outta you then.”

You grumble when he smacks a kiss to your knee.

You hope he keeps his promise.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie spaghetti drabble #st drabbles

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theemporium · 9 months

Note

I've been in such a James mood recently so hear me out

Modern!james listening to your favorite music with you (Taylor swift bc im a sucker for her) and it's js so cute and fluffy and like dancing together and omg

i know i said i wasn't gonna write this week but this came in and its so cute and i cant get it out of my head because james is so taylor swift coded and UGH I AM OBSESSED WITH THIS WEE VARIATION OF MODERN!JAMES!!! anyways thank you for requesting!🖤

It wasn’t unusual to find James wandering around your shared apartment, listening to music.

He was an early riser, always out of bed before you and the first thing he would do would connect his phone to the speaker for his morning shower. The speaker would follow him into the kitchen where he would make you both breakfast. His drive to work would be filled with whatever playlist he had been loving at the moment, just like his drive back. He had little set playlists to hype him up when he would go to the gym or go out for runs.

He would always make small, mini playlists for you, sending the link from the other room and waiting a solid five minutes before he ran into the room you were in and asked what you thought. He would always get giddy when he found a new song he thought you would like, or when he knew one of his favourite artists was in town and he could persuade you to join him at the concert.

Your boyfriend had many love languages, but music was undoubtedly one of them and you adored it.

You had been lucky enough to cop a short shift in the morning, meaning the rest of your Sunday was available to enjoy how you pleased. It was one of the rare days where you woke up before James, pressing a kiss to his forehead before you left the house and headed out to work.

It was nearing noon by the time you arrived home, the jingle of the keys usually enough to catch your boyfriend’s attention and having him run towards you like an excited golden retriever as he muttered how much he missed you between kisses.

Except, it didn’t happen this time.

You would have been alarmed if you didn’t hear the undeniable sound of music blasting from one of the other rooms—you were assuming it was the kitchen where he would be cooking you both a sort of late breakfast. So, you shrugged off your shoes and hung up your jacket before you made your way towards the kitchen, a smile on your face to see what James was listening to this morning.

You hadn’t even clocked the familiar tune until you were standing in the doorway of the kitchen, taking in the scene in front of you.

James was dressed only in a pair of sweatpants that rested low on his hips, leaving his toned chest and thick arms on display. His hair was still a little messy like he hadn’t styled it yet, stray curls falling in front of his lenses. He had a spatula in his hand with what you assumed were some fried eggs he was making in the pan on the stove, the sight of two plates with avocado toast plated on them made you grin a little.

But the thing that really made your heart swell was the song your boyfriend was singing along to.

It didn’t take long for James to notice you standing by the door and your chest tightened at the way a grin spread across his face, the stove turned off and the spatula abandoned as he reached his hand out towards you as he pulled you further into the kitchen.

“Our song is the slamming screen door, sneaking out late, tapping on your window,” he sang and you could only snort at the thick southern accent he put on as he sang. “When we’re on the phone and you talk real slow, cause it’s late and your mama don’t know!”

You let out a giggle as he twirled you around in a circle, letting you get far enough before he could tug you back in and grip your hips as you practically fell into his embrace.

“Our song is the way you laugh, first date, man, I didn’t kiss her and I should have,” he continued, his eyes never leaving yours as he sang, enjoying the way you smiled up at him. “And when I got home, before I said amen, asking God if he could play it again.”

You snorted as the boy continued to prance around the kitchen with you, the breakfast forgotten as James pulled you close once the song had ended and dipped his head down to press his lips against yours.

“Morning, baby,” he murmured in between kisses, the smile on his face never once faltering. “How was work?”

“Good,” you grinned back at him, leaning back enough to lift a hand to push back his curls. “I really enjoyed coming back to that little performance though.”

“I missed you this morning so I put on your playlist,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, like it was the most casual thing in the world and didn’t make your heart swoon. “Not to brag but I think I may be a bigger swiftie than you.”

You snorted. “Sure, baby, sure.”

“I’m not lying, babe, I am,” he said and puffed his chest out a little. “Fine then, what’s her best album?”

“Folklore,” you answered without any hesitation.

“Wrong, it’s 1989,” he grinned, giving you ass a soft slap before he turned back to finish the breakfast he was cooking.

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collinrobinsonsglasses · 4 months

Note

hello!! im crumbling after learning that ofmd isnt being renewed and ive been dying for new frenchie x reader fics for months. I will take literally anything to heal my broken heart🙏

Frenchie x Reader (GN)

Masterlist

This is my first time writing a story centered around Frenchie, so I hope I did this sweet goof justice.

Summary: Frenchie comes up with a plan to get you out of work, and it ends with your first kiss.

Playing Hooky

You had joined Stede Bonnet’s crew on The Revenge around the same time as everyone else, just before Blackbeard’s takeover. Captain Bonnet’s easygoing approach to piracy appealed to you, but the atmosphere drastically shifted when Izzy Hands took over as first mate. You preferred first mate Button’s quirky leadership on deck over Izzy’s constant yelling. As the crew stirred awake, preparing for the day, you sluggishly found your way to the galley, easing into your normal seat across from Frenchie.

Frenchie greeted you with his usual broad, goofy grin and a wave, all the while engaged in a lively debate with Wee John. Frenchie was adamantly claiming that his friend had once encountered a siren, while Wee John countered that sirens weren’t real. Lately, spending time with Frenchie became the primary reason for you to leave your hammock and get to work each morning. Over the past few weeks sailing for Bonnet, you had developed quite a crush on him. It was hard not to, given his contagious energy, warm brown eyes, sweet nature, and lovely singing voice. He was undeniably handsome and always fun to be around.

While engrossed in Frenchie’s animated discussion about the dangers and allure of Sirens with Wee John, you failed to notice Izzy Hand’s entrance into the galley. He swiftly began assigning tasks to the crew, designating you for lookout duty before departing as quickly as he came. Today, Frenchie was assigned to kitchen duty, and the thought of spending the day so far apart from him was disheartening. As Izzy left, you slouched over, letting out a sigh as your head rested on the table. Being the lookout had become a repetitive and utterly boring role for you this week. You found it both tedious and isolating. Izzy insisted you ascend to the foremast top to scan the horizon for other ships, but in reality, it often meant hours of staring into emptiness.

“Well, that’s no good.” Frenchie sighed, prompting you to glance up. “This makes it the fourth time this week you’ve been on lookout.”

“It is what it is,” you grumbled in response. A part of you was surprised that Frenchie had been keeping tabs on your ship duties, but you shrugged it off.

“I say, lookout duty is for the birds.” Frenchie replied with a mischievous grin. “So you should play hooky with me instead.”

Frenchie’s tempting proposal lingered in the air. You considered the ease with which he could slip away during kitchen duty, but a nagging feeling warned you that Izzy would notice your absence right away.

“Izzy would catch me if I’m not at my post, Frenchie,” you chuckled. “How would that even work?”

“I’m thrilled you asked,” Frenchie replied with a confident air. “Fortunately for you, I’m a master at the art of espionage.”

“Good feckin’ luck with that, you two,” Wee John replied, abandoning the table and wanting no part in Frenchie’s antics for the day.

“Alright,” you replied, returning Frenchie’s eager smile. “I’m in.”

As Frenchie outlined his plan to free you from lookout duty, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the odds of getting caught were almost certain. Yet, the idea of spending extra time with him today made it seem worth it. Following his instructions, you retrieved an extra set of your clothes and a hat from your belongings.

On your way back to the galley, carrying your extra attire, you unexpectedly crossed paths with Roach. He nonchalantly twirled his meat cleaver while making his way to the kitchen. Engaging in casual conversation, Roach abruptly halted as he observed Frenchie lugging two large bags of flour and a cantaloupe from the nearby storage closet.

“Now, wait one second,” Roach sang in a threatening tone, continuing to swing the meat cleaver in his hands. “What’s happening here?”

You observed Frenchie’s face shift into panic as he held the bags of flour. “Oh, well, that’s a great question.” Frenchie stammered. “The captain, you know him, wanted some extra cushions for his cabin. So, I thought, why not these bags of flour?”

“And the melon?” Roach prodded Frenchie, not sounding convinced.

“The melon?” Frenchie questioned, momentarily forgetting it was still in his arms. “Oh, you know. He wanted a melon to eat while he sat on the cushion?” Frenchie replied unconvincingly.

“We’re making a dummy that looks like me, so I can get out of lookout duty today,” you quickly interrupted Frenchie, sensing Roach wasn’t buying his story.

“Oh nice. Why didn’t you say so?” Roach replied jovially, moving into the kitchen and sticking his knife into the wood of the counter. “Just bring that stuff back once you’re done.”

“Yes sir.” you replied with a grin, before you and Frenchie headed off to his and Wee John’s room to craft your makeshift lookout dummy.

You stuffed your spare clothes with the sacks of flour, carefully arranging the cantaloupe on top and capping it off with your hat. Stepping back, both of you surveyed your creation, with Frenchie biting his finger and tilting his head as if appreciating a work of art.

“Is this what I look like?” you chuckled, examining the scarecrow-like figure before you.

“Oh, lord no. A dummy could never capture your essence,” Frenchie replied with a bashful grin, causing your heart to flutter for a moment.

“How the fuck are we going to hoist this up to the foremast without anyone seeing?” you suddenly questioned, once again doubting the feasibility of Frenchie’s plan.

“Piece of cake,” Frenchie replied confidently. “I’ll whip up a distraction, get everyone’s attention, and give you time to sneak the dummy into place.”

Crouched on the stairs leading up to the main deck, you and Frenchie had managed to haul the bags of flour, masquerading as you, up the stairs. Frenchie swiftly ascended to the deck, creating a commotion to divert everyone’s attention. From your vantage point, you observed him shouting to the crew and Izzy Hands about something in the water at the ship’s rear. Racing across the quarterdeck, Frenchie reached the poop deck, peering over the edge. Suddenly, the ship lurched, caught in an unexpected wind, causing Frenchie to lose his balance and, with a large splash, disappear overboard.

Your mouth fell open in astonishment, unsure if this was part of Frenchie’s planned distraction or an accidental plunge. Regardless, the unexpected loss of Frenchie at sea triggered chaos on the deck. Most of the crew rushed to the ship’s rear, where Frenchie was standing moments before. Seizing the opportunity, you sprinted to the foremast and began scaling it with the dummy slung over your shoulder and the cantaloupe tucked under your arm. Wee John, seemingly unfazed by Frenchie’s abrupt departure overboard, chuckled at the spectacle of you ascending the rigging above him. Amused, he made no effort to draw attention to your climb.

Reaching the platform, you arranged your doppleganger, having it lean against the mast’s railing. Securing the dummy in place with a length of rope around the wooden beam, you hastily tucked the melon into the neck opening of your clothes and placed your hat on top. There was no time to check how realistic it looked from below deck, instead you hurriedly retreated to the galley, your agreed-upon meeting spot, as the crew worked to fish Frenchie from the sea.

A short while later, Frenchie found you in the galley. He was wearing a knitted sweater, which you assumed Wee John had made for him at some point, along with dry pants.

Upon spotting you, Frenchie triumphantly lifted his arms, clearly relishing the success of his plan.

“Master of Espionage,” he declared, his grin widening as his hands remained raised in the air.

You hopped onto the kitchen counter with a chuckle. “Was it part of your grand plan to fall into the ocean, great master?” you teased.

Frenchie grabbed an orange from the counter, likely an extra that Roach hadn’t used for breakfast, and began peeling it.

“Not initially. That’s the beauty of being a master, babe,” he replied coolly. “Plans just come to you suddenly.”

After peeling the orange, he handed you the other half with a genuine smile, lifting his portion for a toast. “Cheers, my dears,” he whispered.

You were convinced that Frenchie’s plan had really changed the moment he hit the water, but his confident demeanor did have a certain charm. You both finished off your halves of the orange, placing bets on how long it would take for Izzy to realize your absence. laughter ensued as you marveled at how absurd this day had been so far.

The peaceful camaraderie in the kitchen was abruptly interrupted by the furious shouts of Izzy Hands calling your name. Frenchie seized your hand, swiftly guiding you to the pantry in the galley, where you both concealed yourselves. The echoing stomps of Izzy’s boots resonated near you, prompting you to stifle quiet laughter. Frenchie placed his hand over your mouth, setting off a shared fit of laughter, and in response, your hand covered his mouth.

When the echoes of Izzy’s boots faded in a different direction, you both removed your hands. “I’m absolutely fucked.” you laughed.

As your gaze returned to Frenchie, you caught him looking down at your lips before his eyes swiftly met yours again. The confined intimacy of the small pantry suddenly became palpable, and you sensed the mood shifting. Frenchie leaned in, and his lips gently met yours. They felt soft, carrying a lingering sweetness from the orange you both had shared just moments before. Hesitantly, he leaned away after the kiss, meeting your eyes once more with a shy smile, seemingly trying to gauge your reaction.

“Frenchie, you kissed me,” you whispered, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“I couldn’t help it,” he whispered back.

This time, you took the initiative, leaning in for another kiss. Wrapping your arms around him in his warm sweater, you drew him closer. The fear of Izzy Hands faded away as you both lost yourselves in the sweet, stolen moment.

The pantry door swung open abruptly, revealing Izzy, red with anger, brandishing a cantaloupe.

“What the fuck is this?” Izzy spat at the two of them.

“A cantaloupe,” you replied, causing Izzy’s face to scrunch even more with rage.

“I thought Mr. Spriggs was the only seductress on board, but I guess I was wrong,” Izzy continued. “This little trick has earned you barnacle duty for the rest of the day.” With that, Izzy quickly turned to leave, dropping the cantaloupe onto the ground.

Frenchie shot you an apologetic look, but you responded with a giant grin. “Totally worth it,” you said, giving him one more quick kiss before following Izzy.

“Go, Frenchie,” you heard him whisper to himself when he thought you were out of earshot, causing a smile to creep across your face.

“Go, Frenchie,” you repeated quietly to yourself as you made your way to the deck.

#frenchie x reader #Frenchie ofmd #Frenchie #our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd fanfic #ofmd x reader #frenchie ofmd x reader

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katsumox · 2 years

Text

JASON TODD HEADCANONS because im mentally ill and he is the only thing in my brain,, not proofread bc i’m tired

JASON TODD, WHO quotes passages or bits of sonnets to verbalize his love for you, because his own words never seem to cut it. it's the wee hours of the morning when he comes home, pressing his face to your neck, whispering, "a heaven on earth i have won by wooing thee," before drawing you into a deep kiss.

JASON TODD, WHO likes to watch you sleep. not in like, a weird way or anything, he just likes to know that you feel comfortable and safe enough to sleep in his presence. the trust you have in him, how every fragile he deludes himself into believing, is his reason to come home in the early hours of the day.

JASON TODD, WHO has a slight gotham accent in the timbre of his voice when he speaks, always speaking in lengthened vowels. you can hear it really clearly when he says your name. he always talks about how funny your slight accent is, but his is so prevalent yet so subtle, so incredibly him that it's funny.

JASON TODD, WHO is arrogant, but has the bite to back up the bark. he’s smart, alarmingly so, and uses it to his advantage at any time he can. his arrogance kind of divides the public, is he a misunderstood genius? an overconfident brat from the inner streets of gotham? he's both. always has been, always will be.

JASON TODD, WHO comes home crawling, no, crashing through your shared apartment window after a night of patrolling the streets of Gotham, bleeding and half-limping. he shudders a “hey, doll” before you wordlessly rush to get his wounds cleaned. he hates to worry you, but this was an injury he just couldn’t hide.

JASON TODD, WHO on some nights, the only reassurance that quiets his buzzing brain is the constant beat of your heart and the warmth of your skin, as he presses himself on top of you. you hum a nameless tune as he stares off into space and rubs meaningless shapes into your hip. he sighs as you run a gentle hand through his hair, and he kisses your collarbone in return.

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fairy-verse · 5 months

Note

what would've happened if Ink and Nightmare pursued a mate relationship? if im right, they did do something intimate before??? or am i totally mixed up

Not entirely impossible. They certainly have the grounds for it to bloom and flourish into something pretty, though it would have been a relationship that is often spent apart from each other, but neither of them would be truly bothered by that. Nightmare likes to take things slow; he likes spending time in his underground nest and just enjoying the lavish life he’s created for himself. Ink always needs to be on the move and will become restless if he spends too long in one spot. He’d always come back to Nightmare, for certain, but he wouldn’t be able to spend long there. Still, he’s touchy and Nightmare loves the physical contact between them.

Nightmare also must occasionally trap Ink so he can gift him with gentle kisses, though.

And of course, they have Lumin. Their little faerling might be a reason why they’d end up together, and even though Ink has made many faerlings and children over the centuries, there is something special about his little Lumin. After all, how often do you get a faerling that’s purely born from two firstborns? Rarely to never!

Besides, seeing Nightmare care for the wee little thing made Ink (even in the true story) feel strangely sentimental and protective. He takes care in watching over them both and it’s something he’s able to always remember. It’s one of the few things he cannot forget.

#aufairyverse #utmv #ask for the fairy #fairy!nightmare #fairy!ink #nightmare sans #ink sans #they'd be cute together #ink has his own way of showing love #but he'd love Nightmare; fiercely

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ebxnyh · 15 days

Text

Night in ~ ArthurTV

gender neutral reader <3

fluff ☁️

Prologue

You were walking home from work after a long shift Janice (sorry im weeing ofc her name is janice) had been an absolute bitch as per usual and you couldn’t wait to get home. Your thoughts where only filled with one thing.. Arthur. As you walked through the damp streets of london under the dim lampposts, the minimal light reflected by the puddles that decided to rest sporadically on the pavement, still despite all the visual stimulation that surrounded you, all you could think about was your loving boyfriend back at home.

I breathe a sigh of relief as i reach the door of the apartment, raking my bag for my keys. As i hear the clanking of them within my bag a smile creeps on my face. finally.. i thought to myself as i unlock the door.

As i walk in locking the door behind me i hear faint footsteps approaching the communal area. I could already feel my cheeks blushing as i smile putting my bag down before a pair of arms wrapped behind me.

“i missed you~..” his words where softly spoken and causing me to feel slightly flustered. he plants a quick kiss on my cheek before removing my coat for me and hanging it up with the rest.

“i’ve missed you to..” i speak with a little smile as i watch him hanging up the damp coat..the contrast between us was noticeable i crossed my arms over my slightly wet shirt while he stood they’re looking so comfy and warm.. safe to say i was jealous.

“don’t just stand there..go put something comfortable on you idiot” he chuckles softly as he speaks walking over and messing my hair up.

~~~

After changing into one of arthur’s hoodies and some joggers i was definitely feeling a lot warmer.. i saw him sitting on the sofa with a controller looking at the screen, his gaze quickly shifted to me as i entered the room.

“Can you play Fortnite with me” He asks putting a little pout on.

“Oh god come on not Fortnite..” i say rolling my eyes in a playful manner as i seat myself down beside him covering myself with a blanket.

“You’re so rude just play with me” He puts his arm around me loosley holding the controller in his other hand as he shakes me slightly.

After deliberation on the topic of Fortnite i decide to eventually just give in despite being totally awful at it, i began to mentally prepare myself for the teasing i would get.

(I’m aware you can’t play split screen on Fortnite but HUSH)

Arthur handed me another controller smiling at me, he ran his hands through my hair once again and chuckled.

“Try not to be the first in the server to die this time..” he laughs.

I playfully shove him with my knee and pretend to look annoyed as i roll my eyes at his comment. As we load up the game arthur’s eyes are glued onto the screen i watch closely following the advice he’s giving me..his concentration is so adorable however that im unable to focus on the game and end up getting shot not long after.

“Y/N!!” He looks at me in disbelief trying not to laugh.

“At least i wasn’t first dead!” i blush.

We continue to play more rounds together most of the time arthur shouting at me for being such a liability. Whilst not wining any games that night i did however manage to kill someone.

“Y/N you’re actually so bad..” Arthur chuckles as he glances at me for a split second.

“Listen i have a kill and you don’t..shut your mouth” I say with a smirk plastered across my face.

The game goes on and i do eventually end up dying. shock. The game well lack of game was starting to actually get to me as i often was sat there spectating Arthur.

“I’m sick of this now..” I mumble into his shoulder giggling slightly as i made myself comfortable.

“Maybe you should get better at the game then.” He smirks as he pinches my nose before returning back to the game. I grunt at his response and continue to watch him play. My gaze falls on his hands as i watch him pressing all the buttons on the controller, even his hands were perfect. I was snapped out of my thoughts when Arthur eventually was eliminated.

“I’m sick off this too” he chuckles as he puts the controller down before wrapping his arms around me. I cuddle into him more placing my legs over his, his body felt so warm and comfortable as he lightly squeezed me. His hand finds its way to my chin as he lifts my head gently to meet his beautiful honey glazed eyes. He plants a soft kiss on my lips as his hand trails away from my chin to the back of my head gripping it slightly. As he pulls away from the kiss we both smile as i rest my head on his shoulder again feeling nothing but comfort within his arms.

End~

Thanks for reading my loves <3

#arthurtv #arthur frederick #george clarkey #chaos crew

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miyhhowrites · 7 months

Note

Fhdjdjfhdj I like your writing. Like a lot. So I’m gonna rq something else (plus you’ve not had any others). So can I pls have Rui, honami and shizuku x reader that collects loads of stuff like books and shells and things? Ty <333

Collection📔🐚

A/N: hihihi! Thank you so much for requesting again, and i appreciate the compliment🩷sorry if this took too long.. please enjoy🍮

Shizuku hinomori

shizuku didnt find anything weird about you being a collector, infact shes just like you! Except she collects completely useless items that remind her of you or her friends, shes very supportive of your habbit and if you dont have much space to place your books she would gladly tell you that you can place some of your things in her home

"Y/n its okay.. ah! How about this.. you can put some of your things in my room! Me and shii will take good care of it" she promises, if she does end up ruining your collection such as losing a shell or a book page tore apart she would be very very stressed

"Aahh!! I-i..i only meant to look at it! Oh y/n dear im so sorry! Will you ever forgive me..?" She asks, you noticed how her eyes were getting wetter and wetter, you told her that everything was perfectly fine and people make mistakes.. thankfully shizuku calmed down a bit "ah.. okay.. thanks dear.. i promise to not do it again.!"

She was a very good listener, would always listen to your chatters and even ask a question or two "thats so cool! What happened next?"

in the end she would take care of the items you collected and treat it as a person, she would clean them and treat them with great care!

Rui kamishiro

Would never judge you for your habit, he would even encourage you by buying you more books or going to the beach just to pick up some shells or other knick knacks

When he enters your room for the first time and sees the bookshelf he was clearly surprised and even stared for a second, he would ask too many questions and if youre cool with it, he would try and take one of your books, to see if you noticed..

He would also give you stuff that reminds him if you, whether its a book, plushie anything, if it resembles you hes show it off

"y/n dear! I saw this book at the library and i think you might like it, wanna read it today?" He asks, even if you declined his offer you would still end up reading the book he purchased

If you're cool with it, rui would put mini doodles behind your books, sometimes it would be a heart, a doodle of both of you or sometimes a drawing of a wee wee..

Because of your habit, he also starts collecting stuff, stuff that reminds him of you or his friends, he also admits that its very fun to collect things!

Honami mochizuki

Homami also collects things just like you, except the things she collects are like going through a memory lane

If she spots you picking some shells at the beach she'll gladly help you out, if she sees a book that has your favorite genre (ex; horror, fiction, etc..) she'll borrow the book and would give it to you as a present

When you finally show her your collection, she looks very surprised, she would grab a shell and would ask a question about it. She's a very patient person so if you talk about your collection she'll listen very closely

She sees how happy you are about your collection, so she decides to why not try it? She was very glad she did because its a very fun hobby indeed! Sometimes the things she collected was given to you<3

#pjsk x reader #project sekai #x reader #project sekai x reader #pjsk #shizuku hinomori #shizuku hinomori x reader #rui kamishiro #rui kamishiro x reader #honami mochizuki #honami mochizuki x reader #leo need #more more jump #wonderland x showtime

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