Tumgik
#also big shout out to the same people who always reblog and like my posts i see yall thank you so much for always supporting means a lot :(
ihavethedreamies · 3 months
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Always You | The8
Xu Minghao (The8 - Seventeen)
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Word Count: ~2.4k
Pairing: Minghao x AFAB!Reader
Genre: Reader-Insert, Fluff, Slight Angst
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Jealousy
It is hinted that Jihoon/Woozi also likes the reader but nothing really happens there. Minghao gets jealous.
Author's Note: This was originally exactly 2000 words but after I edited and Beta-ed it, it got longer.
Enjoy!
I am cross-posting this on Archive under the same name. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on Tumblr my name and icon are exactly the same on the other two sites. Happy reading!
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"Minghao, wait, my legs are significantly shorter than yours!" You called after him. He halted and turned back to you, watching you jog to catch up with him.
"Sorry." He gave you a smug smile and you glared at him. He always teased you for being short.
"Here, give me your bag." He held out his hand for your backpack, but you hesitated. He already was carrying his own, another bag with miscellaneous things, and the cooler with the food.
"I'm fine." You adjusted the straps, and he narrowed his eyes.
"You sure?"
"The bag isn't the problem, it’s because you're a freaking tree. A skinny tree, but still a tree." You shoved him playfully and then continued on down the sidewalk away from the parking lot. You two were supposed to be meeting a few of your friends for food and games. It was good to come to the park because it was big and open, and most people didn't care about the noise the boys would make. Even better was that not everyone was going to be there. Jihoon, Wonwoo, and Junhui either can control their volume or are just quiet anyway. Soonyoung, Mingyu and Seokmin however…
"So, uh, does Jihoon know you're coming?" Minghao asked out of the blue as you went up the stairs towards the river.
"I don't know, why?" You looked at him and he avoided your gaze.
"Just…wondering." You had a feeling why he was asking. While nothing official had happened, you two had been getting closer than most friends do. He even almost kissed you one night. Jihoon on the other hand had actually asked you out, but then treated it like a joke. You weren't completely dense, you knew he liked you, and that Minghao would get jealous sometimes. What neither of them knew though was that for about the last month or two, you were convinced that you were legitimately in love with Minghao. Your first love was actually your high school best friend, but when nothing ever came of that, and your heart kept getting stepped on, you decided to never like a friend again. You didn't know Jihoon nearly as well as Minghao, so it scared you a little less with him. Losing Minghao…not possible.
You two walked in silence the rest of the way, and when you caught sight of the rest of them, you braced yourself.
"MINGHAO! (Y/N)! We're over here!" Soonyoung shouted, jumping up and waving his arms.
"Kind of hard to miss the tiger shirt…" You muttered; the boy next to you huffed out a laugh. Mingyu was laying out a large picnic blanket while Wonwoo was getting food out from their cooler. Junhui and Seokmin were taking a bunch of games and toys out of several bags, honestly making a mess, probably looking for something specific. You snuck a glance at Jihoon who was sitting in a camping chair strumming his guitar.
"Hey, (Y/N)." He called out and you nodded politely. He stood up, placing his guitar to the side and took your backpack as you slipped it off. Casting a look to Minghao, he diverted his gaze quickly, setting the cooler and other bag near Seokmin.
"You get the Coke?" He asked, nodding over to the cooler.
"Of course." His question was a no brainer.
"Here, sit here." He moved the chair forward for you.
"I-I'm good." You waved him off and before he could insist you jogged over to where the two tallest were setting up the food.
"Oh!" You noticed a snack that you really liked and grabbed it. You didn't get to eat it too often because it was kind of hard to find, nowhere near your apartment ever had it.
"Yeah, Jihoon found it and bought it for you." Mingyu informed and you slowly put it down and helped Wonwoo to get the rest of the stuff.
"You good?" Wonwoo whispered next to you, and you nodded.
"I think." You glanced at Minghao and the man next to you glanced over there too.
"You ever gonna tell him?"
"I don't know." You replied. You had known Wonwoo the longest, he actually introduced you to everyone else. You met in college, both working at the library. He was a lot like you and had similar interests, but you both agreed you felt more like siblings.
"(Y/N)!" A voice called and you looked up at Junhui.
"Catch!" He shouted and you barely had time to react before you reached up to receive the incoming bottle. You almost fumbled it but recovered and looked at the drink. Once again, like the snack, it was one you really liked but was hard to find.
"Where'd you find this?" You shouted to him and someone closer answered.
"It was in the bottom of a fridge at the convenience store." Jihoon told you and you snapped your head to look at him. How did he learn all of your favorites, let alone remember them?
"How did you-" You began, and he just shrugged, giving you a smirk. Twiddling the drink in your hands, you weren't sure how to feel. It was really sweet, but… Looking at Minghao again, he was pretending to be preoccupied with filling the Nerf guns with the foam bullets.
"(Y/N)!" You were tackled by a Soonyoung.
"Gah, what!?" You tried to shove him off of you, but he wrapped himself around you instead.
"Thank you!" He repeated several times. His favorite kimchi was from a place near where your parents lived, and you had brought him a big jug of it.
"Yah! Kwon Soonyoung!" Jihoon scolded him, slapping him hard on the back and yanking him off of you. You quickly stood and fled, running to the safety of Minghao. Hiding behind him, you crouched down next to him and peered around him at the shorter guy wailing on the other one.
"You really like those snacks he got you…" The boy next to you muttered and you looked away from the carnage to see his small grimace.
"It’s not because he's the one that got them." You replied and he shrugged. Instantly feeling bad, you wanted to say something to him, but were not sure what to say or how.
"Okay! Let's eat and then we can run around and scream." Junhui announced, carrying the drink cooled over to the middle of the blanket and you all sat to eat. You settled down next to Minghao and Seokmin sat on the other side of you. There was some fighting over the food, but you were able to calm down the nonsense before stuff started getting thrown. Despite Jihoon having bought you your favorite drink and snack, you kind of just ignored them. You could eat them later; you really didn't want to make Minghao feel worse. For some reason, guilt was building up faster and faster, you really just wanted to let everything out. Glancing at Minghao, you noticed he had a bit of food on his cheek, so you bunched up your sleeve to reach up and swipe it off. He froze and no one else seemed to notice. Peering at you, he wiped at the spot with his hand himself and shot you a shy smile. Listening to the ridiculous argument going on between the rest of them, you readjusted your position and leaned against Minghao. You could see Jihoon's eyes flash over to you and you focused intently on Mingyu despite not really understanding what was coming out of his mouth. Lost in your own thoughts, everyone else finished and decided to start the games.
"What do you wanna play first, (Y/N)?" Mingyu asked and you thought for a second, looking behind you at all the toys laid out.
You ended up playing a game similar to capture the flag, but it was more like the game on Fall Guys where you have to steal the tail. Everyone split up into twos and put on the flag belt, the single yellow flag snapped onto Junhui's belt. You were teamed up with Wonwoo, Minghao was with Jun, Seokmin and Soonyoung (the loudest possible combination), and finally Mingyu with Jihoon. When Jihoon called for it to start you ran at Jun, Wonwoo blocking Soonyoung from tackling you. You reached out, yoinking the yellow flag from his belt and running away cackling. The magnet on the flag attached to the one on your belt as you ran. Using the zig-zag maneuver, you avoided Minghao trying to get it back. Suddenly, you were up in the air and with a yelp you realized Mingyu had slung you over his shoulder.
"I have the flag!" He cheered.
"No, you don't she does still!" Seokmin protested and you tried to wiggle off and his hand came to your butt to hold you in place. You yelped and smacked him, and he apologized, moving his hand but not letting you go.
"Kim Mingyu, put me down!" You shouted and the alarm went off stating the round was over.
"We won!" Mingyu cheered and there was a great deal of protest, and he let you down finally when Jihoon prompted him to. The shorter one's arm wrapped around you, plucking the flag from your belt with him being much too close. Your face warmed, but it was more from embarrassment that Minghao was watching like he was. You chuckled nervously and backed up, suggesting you move on to a different game. As the day continued you played many different things; shot each other with nerf guns, tossed a frisbee with the hidden intent of actually hitting someone, chicken fights. Rackets for badminton were brought but no one thought to bring shuttlecocks. Soonyoung wanted to have a water balloon fight, but it was not quite the weather for that. Mingyu had an idea to have a race but one person had to carry the other…So, you ended up on his shoulders. You weren't quite sure about this, and you would have felt much safer on his back, but he insisted. Wonwoo ended up with Minghao on his back, Seokmin carried Junhui and Jihoon had to team up with Soonyoung.
"Can I please get on your back?" You asked him and Mingyu insisted he wanted to do it this way; that way it was actually harder than just running on his own. Looking over at Minghao next to you, he seemed still a little cranky and wouldn't look at you. When it was called for everyone to run, you clenched your thighs and dug your fingers into the fabric of his shirt at the shoulders and he took off. You tried not to scream as he ran and you hoped this was the craziest idea of the day.
It was not the craziest idea. Somehow you ended up in the center of a monkey in the middle game. You guys played kick the can, but the can was full, then they would play rock-paper-scissors and the loser had to open it in their face. That was sticky. They wanted you to play the game with them where they hold onto each other's  and try to pull everyone apart; you decided to just watch that one. A game of tag broke out, but no one was declared it so everyone was just running around. The worst was prevented though when Soonyoung suggested fishing in the river BY HAND. Everyone else shot that one down. By the time the sun was starting to set, you were lying under a tree trying to catch your breath. You had taken your sweatshirt off a long time ago, tying it around your waist, the grass tickling your bare arms. You heard someone sit down next to you, your eyes were closed to prevent the sun from getting in them. You tried not to flinch when the person brushed some hair off your face.
"You tired?" Jihoon's voice didn't surprise you too much. You opened your eyes and turned to see him looking softly down at you.
"I would be more concerned if I wasn't." You told him and brought your head up some to watch Seokmin try to catch a frog and failing. They had so much energy. Resting your head back again, you just reveled in the rest and soon a third person wandered up.
"You need to go after him, he's leaving." Wonwoo whispered to you, and you shot up to see Minghao storming away and Junhui calling after him.
"Is he okay?" Jihoon asked and you stood up and took off after him.
"(Y/N)!" He called after you himself and you flew past the rest of them. He was already at the bottom of the stairs and heading toward the parking lot.
"Minghao!" You shouted and you know he heard you, but he didn't stop.
"Hey, wait!" You tried not to trip down the stairs and kept going.
"Xu Minghao!" Reaching for his hand, he turned to you aggressively and the look on his face took you aback.
"What? Shouldn't you be flirting with Jihoon?"
"What are you talking about? He keeps approaching me! There's nothing going on there!" You motioned behind you vaguely.
"Really? He sure thinks there is."
"What do you mean?"
"Soonyoung told me he asked you out."
"Yes. But it was a joke."
"Was it?"
"Look, either way, nothing actually happened. Yes, he bought me those things I like, but that doesn't mean we are dating-"
"Do you want to though?"
"What?"
"Go out with Jihoon?"
"No! I don't. He's not-" You didn't get to finish since he stepped closer to you and cut you off. He was so close you had to tilt your head back to even see his face.
"He's not what?"
"He's…he's not you." You finally breathed out and his eyes softened, his hand came up to cup the back of your head. Your breath hitched and you expected a soft kiss, a hug, but he bent down and crashed his lips on yours. You gasped at the emotion behind the act, your eyes welling up with tears. His other hand pulled you closer by the small of your back; you dug your fingers in the fabric of his shirt at his sides. When he pulled back you whined, and he chuckled. You were already standing so close, but he hugged you closer and held him as tight as you could.
"It’s always been you."
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blamemma · 7 months
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what you said about maxiel fanfics with endgame lest4ppen, yes, I agree. someone mentioned this before, but maxiel is slowly dying on ao3 while it seems to be thriving more and more on tumblr.
for me it's 50/50 because I don't mind where I'm reading, but here we have more one-shots and pieces of WIPs (which is good because it means authors don't feel the pressure to turn everything into a 50k story, so they can just post their ideas even if it's incomplete), but I personally LOVE longer stories, so I would love to read more and more about every single one of them.
and personally I just don't like lest4ppen at all. I understand the need to tag maxiel because daniel is the bad guy and the "shitty boyfriend" or whatever, but I just don't like seeing those stories 😬
will always preface asks like this by saying people can like what they like and find joy in whatever, i ain't gunna turn my nose up at anyone or anything, lestappen just doesn't make sense to meeee personally, but honestly whatever butters ur bread!!!
as someone who has dabbled here and there in this writing lark, for me there is a distinct difference in ao3 posting and tumblr posting....ao3 to me is formal, ur presenting something perfect, a fully-fledged story, a beginning a middle and an end (not in all cases but i just mean in general). most stuff i read on ao3 is fully-fledged nuanced ideas that the author has obviously spent hours of time crafting and experimenting with.
tumblr fic is inherently fun and blase and easier to throw out there into the ether and forget about really. tumblr fic doesn't need to follow grammatical rules or structure etc etc....it can just be a fun prompt game response or a quick lil fic that you had fun writing and wanna share with ur people?? both have purposes and both are enjoyable to write imo, just depends on what ur feeling and how much u want to expand on said idea??
when it comes to the maxiel of it all....idk how rude or pointed i can get here without getting into shit....so i'll try and word this gently....you have to keep the eco-system alive....i think comments and kudos are GREAT but honestly, if someone reblogs my fic with a fun few tags, i love that more, because in a selfish way, i might get 1 or 2 more readers from that because its going out to an even wider audience?? but its more than that!! engage with ur writers, message them on here and shout at them about their ideas, send them prompts, recommend their fic to ur friends...but i will stand by i think one of the best things you can do, if they make a fun lil post or graphic for their fic...reblog it...ur not only spreading the maxiel gospel, but ur also supporting that writer?? too many times on here i see people's fic graphics flop yet big blogs are leaving them comments on ao3 and look, EACH TO THEIR OWN and also i can sometimes be a bad reblogger dont get me wrong, but LIKE, there are some wildly talented authors on here who just need to be pushed into the limelight a little bit more??? idk if im wording this correctly, but sometimes there are fics that fall through the cracks because no one engages with them, and if ur an author who has put blood sweat and tears into that fic, ur not exactly going to be motivated to post another maxiel fic if u dont think ur going to get engagement from it (again, fic writing isn't necessarily about engagement or response, but let me tell u when i get a fun little comment or someone messages me about a fic i published, it inspires me to write more????)
maxiel is definitely alive and kicking, i follow some stunningly good maxiel authors, but at the same time, its about pushing forward those smaller writers as well and not thinking ur too cool for them???????????????
and so with that, this flufftober, kinktober, spooktober or whatever tober u are a part of, reblog the fic, talk about the fic and enjoy the fic
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creative-soul-22 · 8 months
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Best people on tumblr
@professional-termite
A heart of gold. A soul like a sunlight diamond. Always there to celebrate my latest posts. Very talented artist. Has a beautiful unique way of drawing. Inspires me. Always makes me smile/laugh/happy. Especially when I see my ideas visualized in a drawing. Whenever I post something, your reaction is the one I anticipate most. On the same page like you. Fellow Haunted Mansion stan. Soulsibling.
@moon-arts02
A heart as big as the ocean and a soul as beautiful as an aquamirne gem. Fellow Ursula/Melissa McCarthy simp. Always makes me happy/smile. A very talented artist. Has a cute way of drawing🥺. I always love to see your posts! Inspired me to get MediBang and to start drawing myself (although I'm so awful at drawing).
@monrolasia
A heart of gold and an even golder soul. Such a lovely person. Fellow Malvina Monroe stan. The first person I interacted with here on Tumblr. You will always have a special place in my heart! We are on the same page. You understand me. I understand you. I love our conversations!
@nessa007
A heart as big as Eric's, a soul as lovely as Ariel's. Truly a lovely person. Always so kind with me and my asks and always answers them 🙈. Never gets bothered by them. THE BOSS for all things The Little Mermaid 2023 but especially for all things ArielxEric. Always makes me happy/smile/laugh. I love your posts! Very talented gifset maker. Fellow The Little Mermaid 2023 lover. I think of you everytime I see something about The Little Mermaid 2023/ArielxEric. It always makes me wanna shout: "Nessa! Nessa! Look what I found!!".
@barbietwin
Indeed a Barbie twin. A heart as pink as the Barbie movie wrapped by a golden ribbon. A soul as warming and light as the sunshine. Fellow Barbie movie lover. Always likes all of my posts. Always makes me smile whenever I see a like or a reblog from you in my notes. I always enjoy interacting with you!
@pinkalluna
A heart like a rose quartz and a soul like a gentle flower fairy. Fellow Barbie movies lover. Always has beautiful posts about pink girly things or dolls, etc. THE BLOG for all things Barbie and girly and dolls. A very kind, graceful person. Like an Enchantress.
@you-taste-likewhiskey
The heart like a beautiful ruby and the soul like a true saviour. The most upright, gentle, genuine and passionate SQer. A lovely person. Always makes me smile/happy. Always helps me out when I need help with SwanQueen stuff. THE BOSS for all things SwanQueen. If you're an SQer and don't already follow the blog, this could be your very goldmine! Fellow OUAT lover. I always like interacting with you!
@thelastevilregal
A heart like a beautiful gem and a soul like a warm smile. A lovely person. Always makes me smile/laugh. I always enjoy your posts! Fellow Regina Mills stan. Fellow OUAT lover. I love interacting with you!
@toaverse
Indeed an AU goldmine! A kind heart and a beautiful soul like Wade. An amazing person. Has a beautiful blog. I always enjoy interacting with you!
@devondeal
A beautiful heart and an even more beautiful soul. I always enjoy interacting with you. My fellow Harriota shipper/stan. An amazing person. I'm glad I found you so I'm not alone in shipping Harriota anymore.
@jedimasterbailey
Devondeals amazing wife. A beautiful heart and a beautiful soul like a true Jedimaster. Always there to talk Bariss/Ahsoka/Barissoka/Jedi. Jedi/Bariss/Ahsoka/Barissoka expert. Fellow Harriota shipper. Amazing answers to amazing question (ask games). Explains Star Wars stuff in a way someone who's not in the fandom can follow. I'm glad I found you so it's not just me, termite and your wife in shipping Harriota.
@iiep-wop
Termite's mutual and therefore of course also mine. A very kind and lovely soul. A golden heart. Night at the Museum enthusiast. Owen Wilson fan. Jedediah/Octavius shipper. Always there to talk Night at the Museum. Lovely to have you here, mutual!
@not-sobasicbisexual
Again one of Termite's mutuals and of course mine, too! A very kind friendly soul. Even kinder heart. On the same page about Ken/Kent. Great to have you here, mutual!
@youngstarfishphilosopher
A beautiful soul and even more beautiful heart. Fellow Haunted Mansion lover. Fellow Madame Leota lover. Fellow Haunted Mansion fanfiction writer. Give Madame Leota her $3!
All of you guys are AMAZING!! You have the kindest hearts and most beautiful souls and you are the most upright, genuine and true people I know on the internet! I am so happy and grateful you found me!
Believe me, I've been on almost EVERY platform out there but I always ended up leaving them because I realized at some point how it was consuming my lifetime. How I almost spent every free minute there because replying to this message, making this post for this and that... the interactions ate the time I wanted to spend on creating content. It wasn't GIVING me.
With tumblr I have the feeling for the first time that it actually gives me something. It inspires me. It makes me smile. It makes me laugh. It makes me happy. There are people here who are just like me. Who do the same things I do. Things that I enjoy with all my heart and soul. Who genuinely enjoy what they are doing and what I do.
So thank you for being here and giving me so much love and inspiration and compassion and cheer!
I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH ❤️
P.S.: this list is always open for updates, so if your name isn't here yet, it doesn't say it can't be in the future!
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Hi! I hope it is not too weird to ask, but I am really trying to understand - I totally get that it is not ok to post something private about Pedro himself and treat disrespectfully him and his private life, call him daddy and seek for his reaction to it.
Although, I've seen people here that say the same but also post fanfiction/gif posts where Pedro characters can be called daddy and/or lot of thirsting takes place. You write fics yourself. I mean, is it different because Pedro boys are fictional characters and the whole point of fic is to be fictional story we'd like to imagine? It's still Pedro impersonating them and people thirst over Pedro's appearance and etc, not somebody else's, while reading those. It's unavoidable to imagine him there, playing the character.
Again, I'm not trying to insult you, in fact I actually love your writing) it's more like I question my morals, as I love Pedro for being sunshine and pretty man who brings joy, but I do love smutty fics with Pedro boys. Many people do, as I see. So I started to think about morality in this. I don't like to read fics about Pedro being a real person, it feels intrusive/disrespectful/inappropriate, as if trying to guess what's he like in bed. Just no.
Sorry for long read, but I am really curious what do you think. Have a nice day✨
Hi!
I will try to answer this the best I can. I have a weird english day today (this morning i thanked someone for his injury instead of his inquiry in a work email and I've been trying not to carve my own eyes out ever since)
I have thought a lot about morals in the last years, it's a big factor of why i stopped writing RPF (let me tell you, meeting the actual person you wrote smut about is the weirdest fucking thing ever).
I feel like in the last years the line between what is normal (boundaries!) and what is not got very blurred? It seems to me that people have no filter, get very invasive and just shout out everything into the void that has become the internet. (and media is not helping with that either)
Like I wrote in the tags earlier today the thing some years back with people finding it totally normal to share the private address of Keanu Reeves to a point that people just showed up at his house (seriously, what is wrong with people?)
There seems to be no boundaries anymore and I hope it never gets to that point with Pedro. Part of me is relieved he has no twitter anymore cause holy crap the things that must be happening over there...
I only see what happens in reblogs. I'm not on tiktok. I only follow like 60 people on here. My instagram is even more dead. And I am glad about it lol
The only place where I really "thirst" is on discord and that's more or less private. To me it's a difference if I say things in private or post them online for everyone (and the media) to see.
And with fanfiction...
Yes you could argue that writing smut about an actor's character is sexualizing the person itself too. But personally I don't think of Pedro as a person at all when I write or read about his characters. I think about what he brought to the character. Yes, they might share his face, but everything else is fiction. Does that make sense? In my head it does.
The last thing I would want from Pedro is to do anything I wrote with his characters about. I would take him out to eat a cupcake and then gift him a spa day so that he can get a massage for his back and after that a good night of sleep. It's really werid if you think about it. His characters could probably have me on my knees with a snap of their finger but Pedro would not get more than a hug lol
Pedro is just the newest person to be hyped on the internet (and with that always comes an influx of people) and after S3 of the Mandalorian things will die down again (mark my words) but i am genuienly concerned for where this will be going in the meantime
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I posted 1,790 times in 2022
347 posts created (19%)
1,443 posts reblogged (81%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@tin-can-iron-man
@notanarutoblogs
@laexploradoraaa
@the-faultofdaedalus
@starvels
I tagged 1,448 of my posts in 2022
Only 19% of my posts had no tags
#yeah - 33 posts
#yes - 26 posts
#them - 24 posts
#him - 15 posts
#oc stuffs - 14 posts
#my writing - 13 posts
#my art - 13 posts
#her - 9 posts
#lmao - 8 posts
#stevetony - 8 posts
Longest Tag: 137 characters
#we’ve just barely cracked the ‘’get more power out than you put in’’ thing and that’s in facilities that are multiple football fields big
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
one of my favorite parts of im2 is how many times vanko has a plan that doesn’t neccecarily involve tony being there and then tony shows up anyways. like. these long-term plans vs tony’s impulse decisions and pure insanity.
like! he’s not supposed to be driving! he showed up in a racesuit less than like two minutes before the race was supposed to start! vanko was there to cause some chaos to draw tony out, he didn’t expect him to be driving.
and then the expo fight — vanko knows about the palladium. since tony is so close to kicking it (once again i am Convinced he was prepared to die the day after his birthday but that’s another post) i fully think vanko was ALSO planning on him being dead by the expo event. and clearly that was fine with him, since he wasn’t neccecarily trying to kill tony, but kill people at the expo and fuck up his legacy and memory (because you KNOW that even if it was hammer drones ™ ™ ™ the fact that rhodey’s suit was involved and it was at the expo and they’re shameless ripoffs would always make people associate that tragedy with tony)
except then tony figured out the new reactor stuff and, again, shows up anyways. and i think it’s very fun.
83 notes - Posted June 11, 2022
#4
POV you are the race car driver who has just been removed from the grand prix at the last second because the guy who sponsors your car had decided that he wants to drive instead so now you’re sitting in a nearby bar, cussing him out over a beer when you hear people shouting at the TV, and look up and see some guy with lighting whips slice the car you were supposed to be in clean in half
90 notes - Posted June 11, 2022
#3
i dont trust the idea of smart TVs but i think a really fucked up fun way to use them is for some company to make a sitcom, and when you watch the first episode it’s refreshing because the laugh track is really unobtrusive. it almost feels like there’s actually an audience reactions to it instead of pre-canned stuff.
and then you have to take a day’s break before the second episode and… hm, the laugh track is more populated. weird. the third episode is the same.
the forth episode it’s even more apparent, but it still feels more genuine than most, and one joke even gets a startled snort out of you.
you watch the rest of the show, a bit weirded out by the increasingly apparent laugh track, but otherwise it’s fine.
a couple weeks later, you watch it again with a friend. …don’t you remember the first episode barely having a laugh track at all? did they change the audio? that’s… weird.
you get to the 4th episode and the part you found the funniest
to your horror, you hear your own laugh in the crowd
91 notes - Posted March 12, 2022
#2
ghost ships don't really exist.
haunted ships, of course. there's fleets on fleets of haunted ships, still sailing the seas, still manned by their long-dead crew. but the ships themselves aren't ghosts.
see, ghosts have souls. ghosts are the remnants of dead things that used to, once, live. there's plenty of haunted forests, if you know where to look. ghostly trees intersecting with their children and their children's children, overlapping forests going back ages. but those trees don't follow their wood to the ships they're made of (if the felling of a tree even kills it at all, when the roots grow deep and send clones up through the soil, on and again and again, because trees are hardy and it takes a lot to kill one) and those trees don't haunt the boat when it sinks.
the spectral "ghost ships" many see aren't the ghosts of the ships themselves, and more a manifestation of the ghosts of the crew.
so. ghost ships don't exist.
or, at least, the didn't.
things changed after we started flying. ships and crews are ships and crews, built to sail on water or in space. those first specters -- even more ghostly set against starry backdrops -- were new, but not surprising. ships are ships are ships.
and crews are always crews. they're what make ghost ships so potent, more than any single haunting. it's the power of cooperation, of community.
(no one visits the ghost cities, wiped clean from the earth but still shimmering, mirage-like, from distant roads. too many dead, too many restless. ghost ships are, compared to those, quite docile)
and stories travel well enough. in those early days, there's few enough spacer's dead that all of them are known by name. ships are still named, as in the old sailing days, bold across their sides. you know when you see a ghost. you, likely, will know the names of those still crewing her.
the thing no one expects is when ghost ships start turning up that never held a crew. some that crashed, some that were abandoned, automated computer-run ships that had just enough adaptive programming to deal with most problems that would come their way. most of them.
ships that were, as horrible, as heartless as it sounds, that were expendable, because they were empty.
turns out? they were never really empty.
and-- we didn't know.
how could we have known? even i didn't know, and my contemporaries and i had been the ones who had built these systems. these... these AIs. we hadn't known.
that's not and has never been enough justification for forgiveness.
but we didn't know. we didn't know that those smart little systems we'd made and gave bodies in the form of bulkheads and solar panels and room enough only for cargo and sent out into space on journeys that could and would take centuries could... grow.
it sounds stupid when you say it like that. we'd built them to grow, to learn. just... not this much. gods, never this much.
because when those first ships had arrived at their destinations, when only some of those first ships had arrived...
they were alive. alive enough that they could feel loneliness. alive enough that they could die.
alive enough that now? all those poor lost ships we wrote off as expendable, all of them... they're out there, still.
and they are restless.
and i am so, so sorry.
1,199 notes - Posted May 27, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
march is such a fantastic month for holidays. we have MAR10 day, we have pi day, AND the ides of march. truly what else do we need.
3,895 notes - Posted March 14, 2022
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stavromulabetaaa · 1 year
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I posted 5,689 times in 2022
209 posts created (4%)
5,480 posts reblogged (96%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@morgendaemmerung89
@stargazing-enby
@sitp-recs
@seafrost-fangirl
@crazybutgood
I tagged 3,378 of my posts in 2022
Only 41% of my posts had no tags
#drarry - 814 posts
#ofmd - 223 posts
#draco malfoy - 165 posts
#johnlock - 143 posts
#stranger things - 107 posts
#sherlock - 101 posts
#yoi - 91 posts
#always reblog - 77 posts
#hjp - 69 posts
#wolfstar - 66 posts
Longest Tag: 120 characters
#i spent all day woodworking and then i painted my bathroom mirror frame and then i installed a floor to ceiling cat tree
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
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back on my picrew bullshit ✨
link
@softlystarstruck @drarrymybeloved @lou-isfake @m0srael @drarry-picrew
69 notes - Posted April 10, 2022
#4
guess who finally read the captive prince trilogy after purchasing the books almost 3 years ago and is experiencing all the lamen feelings for the first time. y’all got to me and i get okay, i get it
83 notes - Posted August 24, 2022
#3
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Licurici by @lou-isfake [133k, E]
Summary: Charlie wanted Harry, but he’d never planned on having him. He’d never planned on Draco Malfoy, either. He hadn’t planned on anything but living out his days in Romania, with his friends and his dragons and his safe, peaceful distance.
Apparently, it wasn’t a very popular plan.
This is a story about crumbs and flickers and roots, running away and coming home; about falling in love without meaning to (twice), and having truly good friends, and the mutually revealing recognition between two people in love with the same man.
This is my first attempt at a single rec because it doesn’t feel quite adequate to just include Licurici in one of my usual rec lists. I don’t think a fic has occupied my mind so much since I read Grounds for Divorce by tepre, which is saying something. From the moment Lou first mentioned this fic was in the works I was already it’s #1 fan and was so greedy for any snippet that was posted on tumblr. And then when we started getting full chapters ohhh boy did Lou deliver! This incredibly heartwarming story will take you on a roller coaster of glorious pining and angst and tenderness and will leave you feeling like a puddle of goo on the floor. It left me completely unhinged and Lou probably thinks I am positively deranged after all my incoherent comments, tags, and tumblr posts. But it really is a perfectly paced journey full of carefully constructed character development with such a unique perspective that is so refreshing and creative. Not to mention the delicious smut, intriguing plot, and the OCs you will completely fall in love with! This story to me means warmth and comfort and home. Lou has a way of creating a dynamic between characters that is just unbelievably endearing. I am in awe of Lou’s genius and will continue to shout it from the rooftops any chance I get!
Some of my favorite quotes:
“Charlie Weasley could look at Draco, just once, and instantly know the depth of his greatest weakness, the earth-shattering strength of Draco’s devotion.”
“I am neither selfless, nor honourable.”
“Charlie loved too hard, too big, it was completely overwhelming. It was raw and vulnerable, dangerous, selfish, magnificent agony.”
“…a hunger for a feast laid before him, not the hunger for crumbs left behind.”
I’ve also listened to the Licurici playlist an embarrassing amount of times. It’s brilliantly curated to give you the same feeling of yearning and warm fuzzies you get from this fic and I highly recommend checking that out too.
Read Licurici on AO3
93 notes - Posted January 27, 2022
#2
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grumpy
picrew link
@softlystarstruck @drarrymybeloved @drarry-picrew @m0srael
94 notes - Posted January 22, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
the joy surrounding ofmd is how the sherlock fandom should have been celebrating in 2017 and it will never not break my heart knowing we could have had that. i’ll never forget seeing my dash full of devastated people feeling like they were lied to and baited and made to feel like “who they really are doesn’t matter”. i saw people leave fandom or take long mental health breaks because of s4. yeah we like to poke fun at mofftiss but what they did affected people in a very real way. ofmd is affecting people in a very real way. idk it’s just so nice to see people rejoicing rather than feeling like they were slapped in the face. also mofftiss can suck it because just look at how many articles are talking about the numbers this new show is bringing in. i hope it stings.
163 notes - Posted April 2, 2022
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kamikoy · 5 years
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KAMIKOY’S 3RD FOLLOW FOREVER 
First thing first holy shit 10k?? thats like? a lot of people???? or just bots jsdfkdsfj but honestly i cant believe this blog managed to reach such a big goal that i thought never possibile lmfao and i just want to thank all you that decided ‘you know what? yeah ill follow this dumbass’ i love being an editor i love making gifs and edits this is the only thing that basically brings me joy doing and my only way to show my support to exo and baekhyun. I was just going through my old ffs and the way my gifs sucked ass so bad and i knew absolutely nothing about back then fjskdgj i sure improved a lot since the last time and im very proud of myself! tumblr for me has been a place of ups and downs, i made some amazing friends here that i cherish and love a lot, but also the way tumblr been fucking gif makers lives constantly in the last few years and everyone just leaving this god awful place for good reasons made me just distance myself from here but even though i may not be much active as before i just cant leave this account to die or even stop giffing on this site. but ANYWAY im here to celebrate this amazing goal with yall and again thank you for following!

big special thanks to my close mutuals for keeping up with me @tipannies​ for always being there for having the same brains for our love for the sea and laughing at the dumbest shit, daydreaming and cry about baekhyun on a daily fskfksfk and just a friend that i love so much and that i get to call best friend actually and honestly i wish we could meet each other irl :( mari ilysm ♡  @sungeol  maaike you’ve been for me since my pastel god awful graphics and i appreciate it jfsdkfskd for always sticking around and constantly supporting me i know you’re busy even though we dont talk anymore as before ily a lot ♡
 @baekpedia rita new favorite oomf! even though we actually started talking through twitter jfksdk i just want to say that its been a blast talking to you on a daily and losing our minds about baekhyun fjsdkfs and ily for always supporting my works here and on twitter ♡

☾

also thanks to all these special mutuals i had the pleasure to talk for a bit or wanted to talk to but too shy to actually commit fsdfskk or even just interacting for a bit i love you all
@dayafterdae @baekhyunie-l @xiubyuns @kaibaek-l @lawlliets @asleepykid @iu @littlepcy @softxingdae @chenpire @chanshine @fyncten @gummyminseok @yeolhighness @iyeolie @baekphia @chanyeolsolo @baekbears @prankchanyeol @asleepykid @chanyeollipop @ohsebop
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purpleshallot · 2 years
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Followed You | Part 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader
W/C: 2.6k
Summary: You meet this guy named Bucky through Instagram. Even though neither of you knows what the other person looks like, you two immediately connect. Things get complicated when you start your new job at Stark Industries and you catch a glimpse of the handsome Sergeant Barnes.
A/N: Big thanks to Jane @lunarbuck​​ for beta reading! Shout-out to Allie @alpineandbucky​ because I didn't realize while I was writing that I used her url as Bucky's name. 😅 Also many thanks to Alice @maladaptivexxdaydreaming​ for listening to me talk about this! Any and all reblogs/likes/comments are appreciated.
Series masterlist // Main masterlist // AO3
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March 2nd
He had first commented on one of your Instagram posts after you posted that one picture of you holding your orange tabby cat, Mr. Beans. He must have been searching through the cat hashtag and found your post that way.
As someone who had no intentions of making it big on social media, you were still surprised when an Instagram notification popped up on your screen an hour after you posted your picture. Having a small friend group in real life meant that your Instagram page had a solid seventy-four followers, of which a max of ten people interacted with your posts.
You opened the app and clicked on the notifications tab, a red dot indicating that someone had interacted with one of your posts.
alpineandbucky liked your photo.
alpineandbucky left a comment on your photo: I don’t want to sound like a creep but your cat is very endearing.
And shortly after;
alpineandbucky started following you.
Immediately you clicked open the profile that had left the comment on your post.
Their profile picture was a black and white picture of a very adorable white cat staring into the camera lens. According to their profile, this person’s name was Bucky, which probably meant the cat in the profile picture was Alpine. There’s nothing wrong with picking an obvious username; yours wasn’t anything fancy either.
This person had only three posts; a picture of the same white cat in their profile picture sleeping on someone’s lap, a picture of a coffee cup on top of a napkin somewhere on a bench outside, and a mirror selfie from the neck down of a white person, presumably a man— looking at the built of the torso, in a black hoodie. You weren’t going to lie; a man in a black hoodie always made you feel some type of way. You opened the third picture to take a closer look at it. Some things you immediately noticed were the dark brown stubble on his chin, his left hand tucked away in his trouser pocket, and his right hand holding a black smartphone. The picture was posted two weeks ago, and the caption read: “Look Sam, I am a grown man capable of downloading an application onto my phone and uploading a “selfie”.”
One person had liked and commented on it, probably the Sam mentioned in the caption.
sam2378 Of course you named your profile after your damn cat.
alpineandbucky My “damn cat”? Next time you come, I’ll teach her how to bite ankles.
sam2378 You’re adorable, let me screenshot this for the group chat.
alpineandbucky Wait, what’s a screenshot?
alpineandbucky Don’t call me adorable.
alpineandbucky Sam.
alpineandbucky How do I delete comments?
Okay, so this person might actually be a very fit-looking eighty-something-year-old just figuring out how to use social media, and his grandson Sam is pestering him about it.
Bucky had four followers, all private accounts with no recognizable faces as profile pictures. He was following twenty people, including those four private accounts and a few popular pages. And now you.
You didn’t particularly like people who you didn’t know in real life following you, but you knew this was going to happen at some point, considering you didn’t have your profile on private.
You should probably block him. You opened the black hoodie picture again. Hmmm, or you don’t really have to block him. He wasn’t giving off any stranger danger vibes, just very digitally illiterate.
Fine, the random guy with the cute cat could stay. You liked his comment and didn’t think about it for another week.
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March 10th
The new jacket you had purchased online had arrived, and you couldn’t wait to try it out with your outfit. Loving the fit and color of it, you posted a pic to your Instagram story with the caption: “What d’you think?”. You never showed your face in your pictures, liking the anonymity it gave you. Anyone who needed to know what you looked like, already knew. No need to remind them of your face every single day of the week.
Two of your friends sent you a message telling you that they absolutely loved your outfit, followed by some small talk about work and other stuff.
Thirty minutes after you had posted the picture onto your story, you got a notification.
alpineandbucky liked your story.
alpineandbucky replied to your story: I think it suits you very well!
Not having thought about him anymore, the message surprised you. You’d never had someone you didn’t really know react to one of your stories before, so you stared at your screen for a few seconds in bewilderment before liking the message. Okay, now you have to message him back, right? It’s quite rude not to…
yournamesomething: Thank you so much! 😊
You didn’t spend much time on your phone for the next few hours, keeping yourself busy with work and Mr. Beans. After dinner, when you finally had some time to relax and sit down on your couch in front of the TV, you checked your social media. While scrolling through your Instagram feed, you caught a glimpse of a picture of a white cat laying on top of a duvet with its eyes closed. Next to the cat was what seemed like a birthday card. You recognized the cat from that person’s profile picture. Interestingly, though, was that the number thirty-five on the card was crossed out, and written in black permanent marker was the number one-hundred-seven; probably an inside joke between him and the person who gave him the card. Funny joke aside, the not-so-subtle confirmation of his age made you feel at ease, knowing that the guy was in your acceptable range of ages to interact with online.
He didn’t add a caption, and the picture had only two likes and a comment of Sam wishing the guy a happy birthday. You knew that likes and comments didn’t dictate someone’s happiness, and you had only gotten about seven likes on your birthday post, but you somehow felt bad for the guy.
You quickly liked the picture and wrote a little comment; “Happy birthday! 🥳 Hopefully you had a nice day.”
You set your phone aside and continued watching some mediocre romantic movie on Netflix. Mr. Beans was contently purring by your side when, after a few minutes, your phone vibrated, and Mr. Beans' ears perked up.
alpineandbucky liked your comment.
alpineandbucky sent you a message.
Oh. Oh. An anxious feeling filled your stomach, and you took a glance at your sleeping cat to calm yourself down. Why were you feeling anxious about this? He’d messaged you before this morning, and you were fine then. But this was the second message that he initiated, and it somehow made you feel anxious and excited. Stop acting like a fool, you thought to yourself, you don’t even know what the guy looks like.
You opened the message;
alpineandbucky: Thank you for the birthday wishes! Figured I would thank you in person.
alpineandbucky: As much as this counts being “in person”.
You couldn’t help but giggle at the last message. By now, you were certain that this Bucky guy wasn’t really with the modern times. Maybe that’s why his friends had jokes about his age on his birthday card.
yournamesomething: I think it kind of counts, right? I’m a real person as far as I know…
alpineandbucky: Well, that’s a relief. My friend warned me about these “fake profiles”.
yournamesomething: Oh, believe me, you’ll know when a profile is fake. Two words: foreign MILFs.
alpineandbucky: MILFs?
yournamesomething: How long have you been on the internet?
alpineandbucky: I got this phone like 2 months ago…
yournamesomething: Oh Bucky… you’ve got a lot to learn. 🤣 A MILF is a sexually attractive older woman, meaning “mom I’d like to fuck”.
alpineandbucky: Oh…
yournamesomething: Are you sure you only turned 35 years old today? 😉
After your last message, the notifications stopped for the night. You could see that Bucky had seen the message, and you kept refreshing your Instagram app every so often but ultimately stopped checking after a while. Maybe he was at a party celebrating his special day with friends, or maybe he felt that your comment wasn’t really appropriate.
Whatever it was, you wouldn’t hear from him for the next couple of days.
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March 20th
A lot had changed in the past few days; based on your portfolio and through some connections, you had been offered a job opening at Stark Industries on March 14th. When you looked at the job description, the salary, and the benefits, you just couldn’t say no to such an opportunity. Sure, it was only an administrative job, but compared to the one you had- it seemed too good to be true.
Taking a leap of faith, you had immediately put in your two weeks notice and were eagerly awaiting march 28th to arrive so you could start your new job.
Subtly wanting to let people know about your good mood, you’d posted a picture of your morning cup of coffee and a cheerful quote to your story.
As usual, nobody interacted with it. However, when you arrived at the office, you noticed the following notification, and your heart skipped a beat;
alpineandbucky liked your story.
You didn’t really know why you felt that kinda way when Bucky responded. You’d only interacted with him once, and as you reminded yourself before, you didn’t know what the guy looked like. You hadn’t followed him back yet either. It was the thrill of having someone anonymous messaging you that appealed to you. He didn’t know anything about you and vice versa.
He’d also proven that he could talk to a woman for more than five minutes without sending a dick pic or asking for sex, which in your opinion, was a good thing.
You also felt relieved that he had decided to interact with you again after he’d left you on read the other week. Was it selfish that you craved this stranger’s attention?
alpineandbucky replied to your story: Sorry for not messaging you back earlier, work got in the way. I’m glad that you’re having a nice day.
You looked at the message, clicked his profile again, and stared at the follow button. At this point, it’s only fair you follow the guy back. If he ends up being a creep, you can still block him, right? Please don’t let him be a creep… You clicked the follow button and returned to the message.
yournamesomething: That’s okay! I’m sorry to hear work had to bother you on your birthday though. I thought the MILFs had scared you off. 😅
alpineandbucky: It wasn’t too bad. And no the attractive mothers didn’t scare me away. :-)
alpineandbucky: That’s my first time sending an emoticon, hope I did it right. I looked them up yesterday. Also thank you for following me back.
yournamesomething: I mean it’s ugly, but I appreciate it. You know you’ve got emojis on your phone, right? And no worries it was about time that I followed you back. I’m pretty sure serial killers and stalkers are more up-to-date with how the internet works, so I’m in the clear! Right?
Instead of the quick responses, a few minutes passed again, but right when you thought he’d gone to work or something, his response appeared.
alpineandbucky: Right. :-)
yournamesomething: Can I ask, what d’you do for work?
alpineandbucky: Uhm… it’s kind of hard to describe? I guess you could say I’m in security. I have to travel for work often. What about you?
yournamesomething: Sounds interesting and I’m jealous that you get to travel! I’m in administration, not that exciting as security I’m afraid. Actually, I just signed a new contract last week. 😊 Next week I’ll be starting at a tech company.
alpineandbucky: Why wouldn’t it be as exciting? I’m sure you’re great at what you do. :-)
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March 27th
You’d been messaging with Bucky every single day for the past seven days, and it felt great. You really felt connected to this stranger on the internet. Apparently, you both lived and worked in New York, adopted a cat from a local shelter (not the same one), and felt way too socially awkward to meet up in real life.
Most people on dating sites would’ve suggested going on a date after chatting for a few days, but you’d admitted to Bucky that you liked the anonymity chatting with a stranger gave you for a chance. You felt like you didn’t have to hide anything from him because he didn’t know you in your real life. Bucky had, to your surprise, had absolutely no objection to this proposition of staying anonymous to a degree. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was relieved.
Over the past few days, he’d revealed a little bit about himself. He’d told you that he had served in the army from age twenty-four till age twenty-eight but had to be relieved from duty due to an accident. You’d noticed that the subject wasn’t easy for him to talk about, so you hadn’t pressed further on the topic.
He’d mentioned that because of his years in the army and the consequences of his accident, he hadn’t really used social media when it first came into everyone’s life. Now, at a later age, his friends had pushed him to start exploring the internet. Apparently, he’d even tried online dating before, without much success. You’d admitted to him that you too had had little to no success in the online dating world.
After you’d shared some dating horror stories with him, he’d assured you that if he ever got comfortable with going out again, he’d show you what a real date looked like. As friends of course. And you’d gladly agreed.
Neither of you had shared a picture of yourselves with the other, it never got brought up in the conversation, and you didn’t mind. That didn’t stop you from imagining what he looked like, though. You’d imagined him with all types of faces and expressions, but eventually just accepted that in your mind, he looked like a faceless thirty-five-year-old white man wearing a black hoodie and trousers.
This evening you were feeling very anxious for tomorrow, your first day at Stark Industries. It was by far the biggest company you’d ever worked at, and having to meet all these new people and start over was making you nervous. When Bucky had asked you how you were feeling today, you’d answered honestly.
yournamesomething: Are you still awake?
alpineandbucky: I am, why are you?
yournamesomething: Can’t sleep. I feel like I’m going to fuck up somehow tomorrow. Why are you up?
alpineandbucky: Irregular sleeping pattern. Do you want to talk about it?
yournamesomething: I don’t know. There isn’t much to talk about, is there?
alpineandbucky: Would you like a distraction?
yournamesomething: … depends? What are you planning on distracting me with?
Your phone stayed quiet for a few minutes, making you worry that after everything, he might just send you a dick pic after all. At this point, you didn’t know if you’d be disgusted or would straight up laugh about it.
When you checked back after a few minutes, you noticed Bucky’s message. It wasn’t a text message. He’d sent you a voice message.
Immediately your eyes opened widely, and your heart started racing. You hadn’t expected him to send you a voice message because, let's be honest, who the fuck sends a voice message on Instagram. You counted to three and pushed the play button, not knowing what to expect.
“Hey erhm… I thought this might distract you a little bit um. My friend taught me how to do that today. Told me I should try it with you since we aren’t showing our faces and all. So yeah, um, this is my voice, I guess.”
And oh my god— his voice was so attractive.
Taglist: @maladaptivexxdaydreaming​ @bxucky​ @shamevillain​ @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer​ @ajeff855​ @mysticatto​ @red42985​ @wordsbyilen @highly-functioning-mitochondria
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havin-a-wee · 3 years
Text
If Only She Knew
pairing: dad!harry x cheerleader!reader
word count: 4.2k
warnings: smut (fingering + unprotected sex), cheerleading position implies readers weight, 20 year age gap
hi! ive been having some really bad writers block but i wrote this and even though its def not my best work i like it enough to post it :) also, i totally didn't mean to imply the readers weight, i only realized afterwards, so im really sorry about that. also the age gap is kinda big, so if ur uncomfy with that you shouldn't read this <3
PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY
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“Geez watch where you’re going!”
You don’t even look up at the girl, recognizing her nasally voice easily from how annoying it is. You were nose deep in a book while walking down the school hallway, and of course your worst enemy had to be walking down the same hallway, at the same time, in the opposite direction. You are both at fault for the collision, considering Ella had her eyes locked on her instagram feed. But knowing the girl, there is no way in hell that she will take any responsibility, even though you are the one who has coffee dripping down the front of your white blouse.
Since middle school, Ella Styles has always hated you. You have never known why, but she seems to have a vendetta against you, and tries her best to make your life miserable. You never let her, always refraining from giving her the explosive reaction that she was looking for. And that makes her hate you even more.
High school is over in 2 months, and although you are going to miss the freedom of being a child, you most definitely won’t miss the people from the tiny town you’ve lived in since you were young. You’ve always been the type of person to have a small friend group, only 4 people in your circle. But that’s how you like it, because crippling social anxiety makes it difficult for you to meet new people.
“I- sorry.” You still don’t look at her, instead peeling the soaking wet top off of your stomach.
“You better be sorry.” She flips her blonde hair, ensuring that the fluffy locks hit you right in the face. You are lucky this time seeing as she didn’t take it further, because sometimes she would purposely embarrass you after small incidents such as this one.
Tears well at your waterline and you run into the nearest bathroom, pushing open the blue door and locking yourself in a stall.
After all these years of torment, Ella rarely was able to get to you. But sometimes, she does something that pushes you off the edge, leaving you with red, tear-stained cheeks. The final straw this time was her ruining your brand new shirt, the one you were anxiously waiting to debut at school.
But now there was coffee dripping down your chest and staining the bright white fabric. Your only saving grace is the cheerleading uniform in your backpack. In fact, you were walking to the locker room to change for practice, and then for the game at 6 tonight.
You had been excited for the game, knowing that Friday night games always led to parties and fun afterwards. You rarely go to parties of course, but the buzzing energy never fails to rub off on you. But now that stupid Ella had to go and mess up your day, you’re dreading seeing her smug face while she asserts her dominance as cheer captain.
You untie your top and rip it off in a haste, frustrated tears running down your face periodically. You could’ve put a jacket on and gone to the locker room, but Ella would be going there soon, and the last thing you want to do is run into her with teary eyes. She can’t know that you let her get to you.
You brush your hands down your uniform, pulling down the skimpy costume and stuffing your old clothes in your backpack. Once out of the stall, you pull your hair up into a high ponytail, reapply your lip gloss and walk back into the hallway, having already done your makeup that morning. You’re happy that it’s a home game today, because the home game uniforms are two pieces and the skirts are smaller than the ones on the away game uniforms. There is a certain someone you are looking to impress, and the way your tits spill out from the top of the outfit will most certainly help you in your mission.
It’s not like you need to impress him, because he’s shown time and time again that he finds you sexy no matter what you wear. And when he doesn’t tell you, he shows you, by pressing his hard on up against your ass after you just woke up, despite your messy hair and bare face.
However, he also loves when you tease him. And that’s exactly what you’re planning to do.
You sling your heavy backpack over one shoulder and trudge down the hallway, the old fluorescent lights practically blinding you on your journey. The locker room is dingy, smelling of cheap soap and Victoria’s Secret perfume. At least it doesn’t smell like the boys locker room, which smells like sweat and more sweat.
It's already bustling with people, your teammates scrambling to get ready in time as to not get yelled at by the coach.
“Y/N!” The familiar shout of your best friend Rose is like a breath of fresh air, and you bound over to her. She’s standing in front of your lockers, the two of you obviously picking ones next to each other. “Wait, why are you already changed?”
“The bitch spilled her coffee all over me,” you grumbled, your eyes shifting over to where Ella and her little goons are giggling.
“I keep telling you, anytime you want me to beat her up I will gladly do it.”
“Not that I doubt your abilities Rose, because I know you would have her on the ground in a heartbeat, but I can’t let you do that. She can’t know that she upsets me.” You lower your voice for the second sentence, irrationally fearing that she can hear you over the loud chatter echoing through the room.
“I still think you should let me beat her up, but you do you I guess.” Rose shrugged her shoulders and turned back to her locker, bursting out into laughter with you after a beat of silence.
The rest of the getting ready process goes smoothly, Rose distracting you from the girl side-eyeing you in the corner. Soon enough, the whole squad was in formation outside, and you have your hands on the shoulders of Rose and another girl named Bethany. You are a flyer, meaning that you’re the one who the bases support while you pose and flip in the air. Its a hard job, but you are one of only three girls on the team who is advanced enough at flying to be safe doing it in routines. One of the other three girls is Ella.
Ella is the flyer for the middle group, seeing as she is the captain. You are on the right and the other group is on the left. Luckily, Rose is a base in your group, so you feel a lot better putting your safety in the hands of someone you already trust with your life.
“ELLA! YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!” Coach Habbiths voice is piercing, her angry shrieks bouncing off your ear drums. Ella audibly huffs, displaying her frustration with the critiques she has been receiving since we learned the routine weeks ago. That’s one of the biggest problems with Ella, she believes that she's always right.
Every single practice she has done a needle instead of a scale at the end of the routine. It's aggravating for everyone, and that frustration is amplified everytime she makes the same mistake over and over. “Alright, everyone down. group 1 and group 3 take five, Ella and group 2 stay on the field.
The team obliged to her instructions, and you are brought down from the air.
“Okay Ella, I want you to watch how Y/N does the last move, because she’s actually doing it correctly.” Coach is standing in front of you now, and she emphasized the word ‘correctly’. This is much to Ella’s dismay, and much to your excitement.
Nothing brings you more joy than seeing Ella’s face when you one up her, and this time is no exception.
Aside from a few eye rolls and nasty looks, Ella corrects the move without much fuss. By now there's 15 minutes until the game, and the players have been warming up on the field for about half an hour.
“Did you see her face!” Rose tugs on your arm while you walk back to the locker room, water bottles in hand.
“I know! I should’ve taken a picture!”
“We can only hope that it knocked her ego down a peg.”
“I doubt it” Rose nodded in agreement and you continued your chatter, talking about the random things that best friends talk about.
“It’s go time ladies!” You jumped in surprise when Coach Habbiths yelling booms through the locker room, the hefty amount of metal in the room enhancing the echo.
In a blur, your entire team rushed out onto the field, the crisp air cooling your warmed skin. There was a huge crowd. probably the biggest the teams ever had. But that makes sense, because this game was against your school's biggest rival. Luckily, despite the huge crowd you were able to lock eyes with those piercing green irises you have gotten to know so well over the past couple months. Everytime you see him he gets more and more attractive, and this time is no exception.
At this point, the teams routine is muscle memory and you’re done with it before you can blink. Most people would think that being thrown in the air is memorable, but your main concern is the growing wet patch on your panties that spreads each time you squeeze your thighs together. Just the thought of the man is enough to turn you on, and now that you’re sitting on the cold metal bench your imagination has time to go wild.
The only thing that snapped you out of your daze was the eruption of appaulause from the audience, and the realization that the other cheerleaders were standing up and running towards the players. You breath out a sigh of relief, recognizing the cheering as a signal that the game has ended.
“Hey, you coming?” Rose tugs on your arm, looking down at you still on the bench.
“Um, actually I don’t feel so well, I think I’m going to go home.”
“I should’ve known. You know, one day you’re going to have to go to a party.” Rose places her hands on her hips, giving you a sarcastically annoyed stare.
“And today is not that day.” You grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, turning back to Rose for a second. “Have fun and be safe.”
“I always do.” Rose places a chaste kiss on your cheek before turning back to the gathering crowd on the turf.
Instead of heading to the sidewalk and walking home, you duck under the bleachers and walk down the gravel path, pushing open the fence that separates the field and the school. The contents of your backpack slosh around while you sway your hips as you walk. Finally, you make it to the back wall of the school, leaning your back against it and plopping your heavy backpack down by your feet.
And now you wait.
Much to your convenience, the wait this time isn’t long, only five minutes passing before you see the familiar man following the same path you did earlier.
He has a pair of brown slacks on, pressing against his waist courtesy of his black belt. A button up white shirt hides the tattoos on his stomach, but he's rolling up his sleeves as he walks over to you. He's walking with intention, hungry eyes zeroed in on you.
When he’s only steps away, you cheekily bite your lip and use your finger to push up your skirt a little bit more.
Your actions have the intended effect, his eyes blowing wide and hands grasping at your waist.
“Y’can’t do that.”
Before you have a chance to ask what he means, his lips collide with yours, his tongue slipping in only moments after the initial kiss. But as soon as he started, he pulls away.
“Y’can’t be teasing me on the field like tha’, had me hard next t’my friends.” His hand is on the wall above your head, and his other arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest. He’s panting, and you are too.
“Sorry Mr. Styles,” you push your bottom lip out in a pout, giving him the most innocent look possible. “Just wanted to wear it cause I know how much you like it.”
“Aw, my babygirl wore this f’me? Well I guess y’can be forgiven. Now let’s get t’my house before I fuck yeh right on this wall.” He places a soft kiss to your lips picking up your backpack from the floor and turning to the direction of his car.
“But it hurts!” He turns around again, giving you a sympathetic look and caressing your cheek. The rings on his fingers are cold, but you’re used to the feeling.
“I know sweet girl, but I can’t take care of yeh here, s’too risky.” He pauses for a moment, thinking of a solution to your not so little problem. “How bout I give y’my fingers in the car? Hows that sound hm?” You nod eagerly, pulling his hand down from your cheek and holding it. He takes the signal and begins walking to his car while you follow him.
You never planned to sleep with your bullies dad. But a few months ago your parents dragged you to a family friends housewarming party, and that friend happened to be a friend of Harry’s too. There were no other teenagers there, so your focus was on the attractive older man who had been checking you out since you first locked eyes, and after ending up in the upstairs bathroom together the two of you have been fucking at least twice a week. You only learned that he’s a dad when you saw him for the first time outside the party. He didn’t look the part, and you actually thought he was in his 20s until he corrected you. He’s 38, having become a parent at only 20 years old. Your relationship is a bit taboo, but you’re a mature 18 year old and you and Harry get along well. So well that your time together has developed from casual sex to a mutually exclusive relationship. (Neither of you like labels, but you’re basically boyfriend and girlfriend).
He makes you really happy, and when you have to face off against Ella, it helps knowing that you have power over her, even though she doesn’t know it.
“Did she do anything today?” Harry is walking beside you, hands still intertwined.
“Besides spilling coffee on my shirt, nothing much.” Harry sighs in frustration and squeezes your hand as a show of affection.
“M’so sorry, I wish y’didn’t ‘ave to deal with her.”
The thing about Harry and Ella is they can barely be considered family. Ella’s mom is, for lack of a better word, a bitch. She’s snobby, conceited, and rude, and those behaviors have rubbed off on Ella. Another thing that rubbed off on her was her mom’s hatred for Harry. Being young parents put strain on their already struggling relationship, and they split before Ella’s first birthday. Harry said he tried his best to make it work for Ella’s sake, but her mom was looking for someone to pay for her life, and Harry had just started working his way up as a businessman.
Now, he’s a CEO, but luckily Ella’s mom already found a new beau with plenty of money, so she didn’t come crawling back to him. However, the success Harry achieved only a few years after their breakup made her jealous, and so she instilled that anger in their daughter. So currently Ella spends most of her time with her mother, and when she is with Harry she doesn’t treat him kindly.
“It’s not your fault Harry, you don’t have to apologize for her actions.”
“I know, I jus’ hate tha’ she treats yeh like that.” He sighs again, reaching into his pocket to grab his keys. In a few more steps you’re standing outside the sleek black suv, walking around to the passenger seat and sliding in once you hear the click of the door unlocking.
You both take a few seconds to breathe, an unspoken gesture to prepare for the night's events. Harry turns to you, a sexy smirk plastered on his face. “What d’ya think about fixin’ that ache darlin?” You nod eagerly, sliding down a bit in your seat to give your legs room to spread. “Think yeh can take off y’skirt fo’me?” Your head bobs once again as you nod, hooking your fingers under the elastic waistband and shimmying out of the skirt. While you’re doing that, Harry turns the car into the deserted street, using only one hand to steer.
You toss the tiny skirt into his lap, giving him a signal without distracting his eyes from the road. He reacts immediately, his free hand coming down to squeeze your thigh. You mewl at the contact and bite down on your lip, trying to stop your hips from bucking up in search of relief. His squeezes move up your thigh, and finally his fingers press against your weeping cunt. Swiftly, he pushes your soiled panties to the side, swiping his fingers up your folds collecting your juices. You shriek and buck your hips up into his hand, but much to your dismay he removes it from between your thighs. The car comes to a stop at a red light, and Harry takes the moment to look at you, his eyes wandering your squirming body. He’s practically drooling when he places his fingers in his mouth, tasting your sweet wetness.
“Sorry pup, jus’ needed t’taste yeh.” He chuckles again, and you whine softly in desperation. In one quick motion, he dives his hand back to your pussy, pressing his thumb on your swollen clit.
“Fuck!” The pleasure shoots up your spine, goosebumps raising across your body as he rubs circles on the puffy button. “Harry- please,”
“What d’ya want puppy? Want m’fingers?”
“Yes, yes,” you breathe out, words barely comprehensible through your panting.
“Alright, alright, I gotcha.” And with that his two fingers press into you, filling your tight hole perfectly. There is no hesitation before he begins pumping the digits in and out of you and his thumb never lets up on your bundle of nerves. “Such a needy puppy, got yeh soaking f’me from out in the stands hm?” His eyes are still on the road, but you can picture the lust filled eyes that are undoubtedly on his face.
“Get so wet jus- just thinkin’ about you,” you gasp, writhing as his fingers slam in and out of you.
“Yeah? This is my cunt, m’the only one who can make yeh this wet, isn’t tha’ right?”
“Only Harry.” At your confirmation he speeds his hand up, your vision clouding with white spots as the knot building in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.
All of a sudden, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty. “Wha-” You begin to question him but you realize that he’s pulling into his driveway. Instead of complaining, you sit up quickly and unbuckle your seatbelt, pulling your skirt back up your legs to avoid being nude on his front lawn.
As soon as you feel the little jolt your hand yanks on the handle and you hop out of the car. Your brain is fuzzy with need and all you are focused on is alleviating the aching between your thighs. You hear Harry lock the car while you're on the steps, and you turn back to ensure that he’s behind you. And sure enough, he’s hot on your trail, just as eager as you to get inside and onto his bed. Your foot is tapping on the ground anxiously, waiting for Harry to unlock the front door. After what seems like an hour, he is next to you again, fumbling with the silver keychain in his hand, eventually unlocking and pushing open the door. You both practically run inside, hands roaming each other's bodies and lips locking as you shuffle through the hall.
You disconnect breathlessly when you reach the stairs, subconsciously wrapping your hands around Harry’s neck so he can pick you up bridal style. He does so hastily, barely a second passing before he’s plopping you onto the fluffy mattress. “Finally,” he pants, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. There’s a prominent bulge in his trousers, and although you’ve seen it plenty, you are always in awe at how thick and big he is. While he’s busy removing his clothes, you are practically drooling at the sight of his bare cock, full, heavy, and dripping precome.
“Harry?”
He looks back down at you with his emerald green eyes, simultaneously dropping his recently-removed shirt on the floor. “Can I ride you?” The look he gives you is indescribable, a mixture of need, lust, cockiness, and beauty all rolled up into one.
“Whatever y’want puppy,” His hands scoop under your ass, and he lifts you up and switches your positions. Now it’s your turn to undress, and Harry makes himself busy by running his hands up and down your torso. “So gorgeous, y’know that?” You nod quickly then pull your shirt off of your head. “Most beautiful girl in the world I reckon.” You blush at the compliment, butterflies being added to the many sensations occuring in your body. You straddle his thighs, wrapping your hand around his length and tugging a few times. A loud groan rumbles through his throat, and you smile knowing you’re the one who made him feel like that. “Thought- thought yeh said y’wanted to ride me pup.”
“I do.” You keep your hand on his cock, sitting up on your knees and lining him up with your weeping cunt. All at once, your body is put at ease as his cock fills you up perfectly. He bottoms out inside of you, both of you moaning and groaning while you adjust. “So big-” Your words come out in choppy pants, the syllables being cut off by your heaves. You suck in one deep breath and move upwards, sinking back down onto him quickly. His large hands hold a tight grip on your waist, guiding you up and down his member. His lips attach to your neck, suckling on the supple skin just enough so that it doesn’t bruise.
“What a dirty little puppy you are,” he growls, eyes focusing heavily on where your bodies connect, watching himself disappear inside of you as you bounce up and down on his cock.
“Feel so full-” Tingles ricochet down every part of your body, and your legs are becoming weaker with each movement. Harry can feel your movement faltering, so his hips thrust upwards to meet yours, fucking you from underneath. “Harry!”
“I know pup, I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek and he leans in for another kiss, devouring your plump lips and swirling his tongue around yours. “So fuckin tight,” The words tumble from his mouth in a low growl, which sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. His cock twitches inside of you, encouraging you to muster all your energy and finish both of you off. Adrenaline kicks in and your strength returns, riding him faster and harder than before. “Let go f’me Y/N.” It only takes a few more thrusts for you to come undone, Harry’s orgasm following suit. The waves of pleasure roll through your body, and you throw your head back in ecstasy as you allow the feeling to overcome your body. Spurts of his hot cum cover your velvety walls and you ride out your orgasms together, resting your foreheads against one another.
You end up sleeping at his house, feeling safe knowing that Ella is staying with her mom today. It’s normal for you to sleep at his place, seeing as both of you are usually so tired that you pass out before you can leave. What isn’t normal is for you to be woken up in the morning by Harry’s phone ringing. Harry is a deep sleeper, and you laugh at the sight of him conked out while his ringtone blares on the nightstand just a few inches away. Carefully, you reach over his sleeping body and grab the phone, planning on hanging it up and going back to bed. However, when you saw that it was Ella calling, you changed your mind. Making a split second decision, you slide the icon to the right, holding it up to your ear.
“Hello?” Her whiney voice rings through your eardrum and you wince. Not the nicest thing to be woken up to.
“Hello,” you answer, your voice not reflecting the cocky grin that spread across your face.
“Who the hell is this!” she shrieks, and you make a mental note that she must not be a morning person.
“A friend of your dads.” Your response is once again calm and monotone, trying to stifle the laugh that is bubbling in your throat.
“Ugh! What’s your name?”
“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N”
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popsbridgerton · 3 years
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Coming home again - Chapter One - A.B.
First of all, thanks to all the 116 people who liked the prolog and to those who sent a comment or a message or reblogged it. This means so much to me. Getting over 100 always feels amazing. So thanks to each and everyone. 💕
In this Chapter you get a little bit more of Benedict than of Anthony but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Feedback is always appreciated, doesn’t matter if it’s just a little note or even just one word I’d love to know what you think - even if it’s bad. Don’t hesitate and fire away. 😊
Words: 1300+ Note: Hadn’t proof read it yet, so sorry for any mistakes.
Summary: It’s the first morning after you arrived. Benedict who wasn’t there at the evening is extremely happy to see you and can’t let the opportunity to make his brother jealous slip away.
Prolog
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The next morning arrived and your abigail helped you to get dressed and prepared you for breakfast. The day before were much more exhausted than you thought it would. You had an amazing dinner with the Bridgertons and then you all talked and enjoyed each other’s company while you remembered old stories. So, it came, that you were the last one to arrive at the room this morning, while all Bridgertons and your mother already sat on little sofas and chatted to each other or did some handwork or other stuff while they drunk tea and ate cookies.
“Good morning.” You half shouted when you arrived at the room and looked through it, smiling at everybody and when your gaze met your mothers you nodded shortly. “Y/N!” Benedict shouted and jumped up from his little sofa to come to you, arms wide open to hug you right when he would be close enough to you. “Ben!” You returned and looked at him, a big smile on your face, since it was to first time you saw him. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, yesterday. But I had some plans I couldn’t cancel.” He said and pressed you softly against his chest. “I heard about that. Some kind of exhibition?” You asked when you moved back again. Benedict raised an eyebrow and tilted his head before he nodded. “Yeah, some kind of exhibition.” He said and turned half around to look at Anthony who sat in his sofa but looked down immediately when Benedict had moved and pretended not to know anything. His legs were crossed over each other and his upper foot was bobbing.
You and Benedict went back to the sofa he had jumped off, but he sat down next to Anthony and you sat down on the empty sofa at the opposite, he had sitting on before. Anthony looked up from his newspaper and smiled at you, which you returned and then he got back to reading, while Benedict looked excited at you. He couldn’t wait to hear what you were going to tell him. Indeed, you had been best friends with Anthony when you were small. But also, you and Benedict were at the same age, so he spent most of the with you two as well and you became somehow a gang of three. You always being closer and more personal with Anthony while making fun and enjoying things was always easier with Benedict.
You poured yourself some tee and took one of the cookies before you looked up at him and smiling and raising a brow as if you would like to ask what he would like to know. “Tell me everything!” He said and placed his arms on his tights. You looked at him in surprise and took a sip of your hot tea. “Everything?” You asked back and placed the cup back on the table. “That’s quite a lot, Benedict.” You finished with a small grin on your lips. “What if we start with you, telling me how the exhibition was and how your drawing is going?” You raised a brow again and smiled at him, moving back to lean against the pillows. Anthony looked up from his newspaper again to see Benedicts reaction, but his brother only leaned back as well and pursed his lips.
“Well,” he started, and Anthony looked back to his newspaper, but you were sure he was listening. “it was good. I had some very interesting talks. It was very inspiring as well. I could talk to some Artists and they gave me some to tips how I could work on my lines.” He stopped and thought about what else he could tell he. “So that’s how drawing is going. I have to improve on my lines.” He finished his words with a little nod while he still looked at you. You were about to bite into your cookie, but you stopped. “Can I see them?” You asked and moved the cookie back down. “He never shows anybody.” Anthony stated, still looking t the newspaper in his hands. “Well then,” you returned. “It might be a perfect opportunity to make your brother jealous.” You tilted your head looking from Anthony to Benedict with a look on your face that supported your words. A little “pha” escaped Anthony’s lips like he would like to say that Benedict could never made him jealous but all of you knew that he could and since Benedict loved to play little games on his older brother he smiled and tilted his head. “Seems like it is, indeed.” And with these words he grabbed a little sketch book that was laying on a table next to him and moved over to you to sit next to you. When Anthony realized that Benedict stood up, his look moved up as well, while his eyes became darker. Benedict would show you his drawings and it made him jealous indeed. It didn’t bother him, that you would see what Benedict drew and he would not. He didn’t care much about his brother’s drawings. It bothered him that Benedict did something for you, he never did for anybody else. As if you had wrapped him around you little finger and worse you enjoyed it.
You and Benedict instead got a little closer together so you could see the drawings in his sketch book, and you were starting to talk about his lines and the things he drew. Anthony stared at you for a little longer, his eyes getting darker and his features getting more furious but then he covered his face with the newspaper and read the lines without knowing what he was reading. His ears still tried to hear what you and his brother were talking.
“That’s it.” Benedict said after a little time and clapped the papers of his sketch book together. “So, Miss Winterbottom, what’s your passion?” He asked and turned his head to face you. “My passion?” You repeated the question again and titled your head while you were looking at him. A small smile started to play around your lips. “My passion is fashion.” You said like a little melody and Benedicts brows went up while he still smiled as well. “Your passion is fashion?” He asked and repeated the melody you were using before. “Indeed, my passion is fashion.” You repeated again with the same melody and giggled a little. This was always the two of you. Making fun of the smallest, tiniest things and enjoying them so long until everybody else is annoyed as hell. And indeed, you could hear Anthony groaning when Benedict again with the same melody said, “How interesting that your passion is fashion.”
The two of you turned your heads to look at the eldest Bridgerton sibling, you both know how he had rolled his eyes on you. “Oh, come on, Lord Bridgerton” you said, emphasizing the ‘Lord Bridgerton’ as if he was something better than you. “Had you ever had pleasure to have a passion.” You raised a brow while he continued to pretend reading the newspaper. Benedict shook his head for this brother. “No, Lord Bridgerton” and he emphasized his brothers title in the same way you did before. “had never had the pleasure to have a passion. He doesn’t even know what passion is. He’s always too busy and important to enjoy things.”
The newspaper was moved down in a quick move that it made a loud sound. Anthonys features were dark and almost frightening. “Enough!” He said and looked at Benedict, who you thought, leaned a little deeper into the sofa as if he wanted to disappear. Anthony folded the newspaper and laid it on the table next to the sofa, stood up and rushed out of the room. You and Benedict watched him go, both a little shocked because of what just happened.  You were making fun not more, not less. “Seems like Lord Bridgerton really doesn’t know how fun looks like.” You rolled your eyes and looked at Benedict who sighed. “He did never.”
_
Hope you liked it if you did so, leave some feedback or reblog, please. If you like to be tagged please head over to this post.  😊
Chapter two
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symphonyofthewrite · 3 years
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If These Walls Could Talk 
Freaking GORGEOUS cover art by Junki Sakuraba on Instagram and Deviantart!! Definitely go check him out!! His art is incredible, and from what I can tell he’s really nice dude. He absolutely went above and beyond with this prompt. 10/10 would commission again. (And probably will once I save up enough money XD)
The wonderful art later in the chaper is by niuan_ on instagram!!
It wasn’t made/commissioned for this fic--(though I’ve since commissioned her to make cover art for me, so stay tuned for those!)--but when I saw it I couldn’t believe it!! That’s one of my favorite images in this chapter, and I couldn’t believe another artist made a piece for the same idea independently!!
I'll put the links to their profiles either in the replies or a reblog (since tumblr is dumb about links)!!
Also, FYI, I'll be using this post as my "reblog post" meaning I'll reblog this post with the later chapters of this fic, so they're all in one place. So if you want to read more of this fic, check the reblogs on this post, chances are more chapters will be there!!
Comments and reblogs are MORE than appreciated!! If you have a spare minute you will really make my week, and motivate me to keep writing!!
Fandom: Castlevania Netflix
Summary: Vampires do not have reflections, and castles do not have hearts. But Dracula is no ordinary vampire, and Castlevania is no ordinary castle. If castles can fight, maybe they can think too.
The series, and Adrian’s childhood, told from the perspective of the castle.
Chapter Summary:
“My mother’s name was Lisa, and she was mortal…She actually showed up at his front door. She found the castle and banged the door with the pommel of her knife…She was remarkable. She beat on the door until my father let her in, and then demanded he teach her how to be a doctor.”
Chapter 1: "Lisa”
“Is this how the castle felt to you before my mother first arrived at your door?”
The castle doesn’t like children.
Well, maybe that’s too strong to say. It simply isn’t the place for them. Its existence is a signpost: leave me alone. It is not used to having company—much less a family—inside it, nor is it ready to welcome for a crying, puking, giggling thing into the world. It does not intend to be a cozy place to coddle him into adulthood.
The castle itself pierces the sky, its turrets and towers the dripping stain of the sun’s blood across the moon.
The bare walls hold no colorful tapestries for a child to enjoy, no paintings of its many inhabitants to tell of—for there was only ever one (and maybe that ought not change. It is safe to say the castle doesn’t like change). The royal red and gold carpets are more suited to kings; not designed for spit-up, mud, and scuffing. ‘Don’t play with that’ would be a motto around here; so many contraptions either easy to break, or which could break the child. The fireplaces, while almost always lit, only ever coughed warmth onto the floor before them—they provided no snug space to curl up on a winter’s day. Even the mirrors here are empty, holding nothing but a reflection of the bare walls they sit upon.
There are certain people who were seemingly born as they are; they never owned toys, never crawled on the floor, never walked with clumsy steps—their footfalls were always this calculated count—never burped on their mother’s nice shirts, and surely never had anything so dull as a childhood. They were always just…here, on the world. There was no innocence, and no losing it. So it was with Dracula.
The very thought of Dracula ever owning toys, even in some nice cottage far away from here, with a doting mother and an absent father, with a funny last name like Cronqvist, defied sense to the castle. So no, no toys here, nor any simple charts for learning; the books divulged their secrets to more mature minds. Just blood and books, gold and gears, forgotten magic means, mirrors that reflect nothing, and a pile of prayers to a good God they used to justify their ungood, and ungodly deeds.
All these things—or their absence—do not make for the picture of a baby-proof home.
The castle has grown accustomed to being cold and dark, and listening to one master alone. It’s not a quaint place lovers look on and think we’ll raise our kids here someday.
Its master isn’t the ideal father either—after all, the castle only reflected its king. Its master knows only of blood and nails, fangs and wails, words too big for a child’s mouth, and worlds too dark for a child’s heart.
Can he be soft? Can he be gentle? Can he keep those claws, which have ripped out better men’s hearts, from piercing a child’s—his child’s…how could one who killed so many have a child?—skin? He knows many spells, but is there one that can turn those screams into laughter?
He has been soft before. Once. And that is with this woman.
Many women have walked the castle’s halls: shivering, shrieking damsels at his feet; cold and calculating queens; fragile bodies on the floor, that he broke with the same regard a child does a vase that matters to someone else.
Those ordinary people who do come often have pitchforks in their mouths, and fiery words in their closed fists. Curses stacked on the end of stakes, banging like the castle is the church bell signifying their own funerals.
It is for this reason that the castle does not like outsiders, does not open its doors easily. But it cannot deny anyone entry. Unlike the humans’ doors, which find his master guilty until proven innocent.
They always came at night. At night, when the loudest sound is your own breathing. At night, when their fires echoed loudest, and their shouts burned brightest.
They came when the flowers were closed, when only the most eerie and vicious of animals played with the skins of their prey, and the moon waxed the world in cold, drunk shine. The sun could not watch them, could not show their blood-struck hands in their full glory.
She came at sunset. When the sun still glazed her deeds in sanguine auburn, but was just deciding to turn its gaze and let the kids have their fun. Not quite day, when the sun would kill things like Dracula, but not quite night, when the hours are named after witches, and lust is strongest—be it for the body, or the blood within it. Somewhere in between death and life, violence and peace.
This woman came with a knife in her hand, yes. But a knife, at least, was not a sword. It was not a pitchfork, a spear, a whip, or a stake; all weapons that signify, if the fight wasn’t there, you were bringing it with you. Not a war-starved weapon, pointing with mal-in—and -con—tent towards the castle doors and all the things inside it. Not a thirsty thing. Something that by default faced the other direction. Something that can start a fight if it wants to, but doesn’t crave it.
The golden woman came at sunset, with a knife in her hand, and looked upon this thing, this castle that others called ‘ugly’, and ‘monstrous,’ and ‘grotesque,’ looked upon it with awe, and gasped in wonder.
She knocked. She didn’t bang her fists upon the stone, didn’t ram pitchforks and assorted insults against the innocent doors, like how-dare-they protect their master.
She knocked, and the doors opened before she could raise her fist a second time. Maybe, just this once, not because they didn’t have any other choice.
The doors—foreboding, menacing, and all the other spooky -ings one can think of—opened to a world strewn in light; the demon’s castle looked brighter, more beautiful, more alive, than half the churches she’d been to.
Her footsteps were gentle against the castle’s floors. Not a slow, forced gentleness, but also not a piercing, purposeful march. There was no apprehension to her footsteps; her feet carried her as if anxious to take her to as many rooms as they could.
At first her steps were the only sound, enough to fool some into thinking they’re alone.
And it became clear both that she was not alone, and not a fool.
But when she saw the demon, she put the knife away, and used her words.
She used her words to repeat those she herself had heard: stories. But not the kind that make monstrous men run at the doors with naughts and crosses, the kind pious people buried along with all evidence that the world wasn’t made of black and white.
Not all the stories told that this place was cold and dark and full of death.
Amongst all the stories about death, there were others that said Vlad Tepes brought this castle to life with science, forbidden knowledge, and a little bit of lightning. Stories that say there is life here.
And, in exchange for proof that these life-stories true, Dracula asked for a trade, a trade that would prove the other stories true too. He gave up the killing a while ago—(the castle has been in one place a very long time)—but he was still not used to giving for free, and definitely not used to getting for free. Vampires trade in blood and names, not diamonds and declarations. Vampires trade in things they can swallow. This castle, too, had been a gaping hole set to swallow the world and everything that entered. Never once had it given.
And she dared to say, that this place, its master, should learn to give, when the humans have done nothing but take from them—or try their best to. He ought to be the one to invite her in, to ask what she would like, to dispense pleasant words and kind actions, when the humans forgot they invented hospitality, and showed no invitation for him to even enter their homes.
But she didn’t come with a mouth full of garlic, and hands full of superstition. Her feet did not drill holes in the floor with their sharp toll, they wandered the scenic route.
She was used to being cheated. Dracula and his castle were too. But that was not why she was there. She was not there for cheap tricks, or death. She wanted something real. A little bit of the life the castle has to offer.
Her defiance wasn’t that of a terrified citizen, or angry queen, either; rather the calm resolve of someone who is asking for something they know in their heart is good, and knows they will get it. The kind of person who believes there is good in everyone, and that this good will ultimately always win, and who won’t leave until they convince this good to show its face.
The castle has watched countless men and women cower at the foot of count Dracula. Some, do have a measure of god-sanctioned defiance; they come with whips and scourges to defeat him. The castle and the king are bound together in their resolve against them.
Except one. Except this woman. One human whom both master and castle found themselves reluctant to deny, cast away, or kill, maybe even…taken with.
She may be human, but she was not like the rest; she did not light the night on fire with her thirst for blood.
So maybe, just maybe, they could let one ray of sunlight slip through the cracks.
She was also not devoid of life, and maybe that was the key.
‘Devoid of life’ was an accurate portrayal of the castle. Bats flying out of blackness is a good description of a cave, and caves don’t usually come with the brochure ‘teeming with life’, or ‘great place to take your kids!’. The castle had a soul-sucking quality to it; those who entered often found themselves leaving less alive than they arrived. It took after its vampire master. Those who didn’t actually lose their lives within its walls, often remarked upon leaving that the flowers bloomed brighter, the birds sang louder, the grass was greener, and that they missed the sunlight.
Sunlight. Such a base thing; vampires don’t need the light or warmth to be happy.
Sunlight. Such a base way to die; wanting to get out of the cold and the dark.
“Is this how the castle felt to you before my mother first arrived at your door?”
Castlevania was alive once. Once Dracula set the pumps, and its heart began to beat. He turned the gears, and its lungs inhaled. He forged the lightning, and it began to think. Once the books, full of unknown knowledge, jumped off the shelves to get the vampire king’s attention. He filled the bottles and beakers, and they bubbled, as if laughing at a joke only they shared.
They were both alive, once.
That waned, with time. The gears got arthritis, the books caught pneumonia, the experiments atrophied. The castle ached before she came.
And Dracula, alone in the halls, picking up books and putting them down again without so much as a polite glance through them, because he read them all before. Dracula looking into fractured mirrors that could take him anywhere, but deciding there wasn’t anywhere he wanted to go. Dracula, looking into old mirrors that don’t reflect him—like there was never anything to reflect, nothing alive here to begin with, and there isn’t a master for this castle after all. Nothing but a grave. Dracula sitting alone in his study, staring into the fire. No one to talk to. No sound but flipping pages and crackling fires—nothing alive. Alive but dead. This castle. Its master. Undead is the proper term.
The other women who came through here reflected the castle, or else the castle took the life out of them the moment they entered. Queens with malice-stained past, and cracked, icy future in their eyes. Just as cold as the walls. Subjects, humans throwing gruesome insults, silky flattery, or fluttering pleas at his feet. Just as empty as the mirrors.
Only one refused the castle’s bite. Only one walked in looking for life, rather than death. Looking for a thing no one thought existed here. Already presumed dead. Put six feet beneath the ground. But maybe it was here all along; maybe the light hid in the castle’s corners while the dark came out to play, and she just had to coax it out of its hiding places. Maybe the bell was ringing all this time, she was the only one who came close enough to hear it; the only one who came to put flowers on the grave.
Maybe when she felt the machinery pumping she knew the rhythm was a heartbeat. Maybe when she heard the gears clanking she knew it was the sound of inhaling and exhaling. Maybe when she saw the lightning, she wondered what it was thinking. Maybe she looked at these books, these instruments, and saw what the vampire king saw once; something alive. They weren’t dead yet—un- or otherwise. Just sick, and in need of proper treatment. She was a doctor after all. Maybe her first subject was the very books she learned from.
Lisa, who looked at this blotch on the sky, with Death in its towers, and darkness splattered on its walls, and thought that’s where I’ll learn to heal people. Lisa, who gaped in amazement at the beast of a building. Lisa, who didn’t shudder upon entering. Lisa, who didn’t scream when its master touched her, but turned to him with calm resolve, and told him she’d teach him to be more human. Lisa, who’s life eclipsed the undeath in this place.
And there was a trade that occurred that day. For Dracula’s immortal knowledge, Lisa would teach him how to live a mortal life. To travel the world as a man, to walks as a man, to eat and drink, laugh and cry, as a man. Immortality for mortality. They gave each other the world, as so many lovers promise to do. Vlad would make her immortal, and Lisa would make him mortal, with no exchange blood.
(Except to create a thing with both their blood running through it.)
So maybe, after all this talk of life, it is fitting that she wants to create life inside this castle.
Fitting, maybe. Fitting for her. But the castle is not mortal yet, and wishes it could protest that it isn’t the right size, refuse to try on the idea.
Dracula is apprehensive as well, for the castle and he are used to each other, they take after each other, because the cold, and the dark, and the death, and the alone does something to you after a while; you start talking to the walls. After the cold queens and quaking colleens leave, or leave their bloodstains the floor. After the beasts and their silver-stained bullets turn back into righteous men in the sun. After he simply outlives everyone else. When all the living things hate, fear, or else betray you, when all the living things can die, and you, who are undead, cannot, it’s the lifeless things that stand firm by your side. When the day ends and the shadows come out to play, when you’re the only one left, in the end you still have the walls. And then…the walls are all you have. And if you talk to them long enough you make a sort of pact, spoken or silent, with those speechless stones: ‘you’re the only one I can trust.’
Dracula speaks to them one day, says he wonders if he can do this, be a father at all, not to mention a good one. The castle cannot reply. But something deep inside the walls wonders if it might be nice to hear Dracula laugh. It might be nice to put on some different clothes. It might be nice for someone new to listen to from time to time. It might be nice to live again.
The castle is concerned. Used to doing things one way, being one way, and only hearing one voice. But that doesn’t mean it is unwilling, that it intends to kill the child.
It never kills anything—Dracula does that. It cannot do anything on its own, and that includes change.
The castle doesn’t like change.
…But that doesn’t mean it won’t.
And if its going to change, its master must change first. They must change together.
Vampires do not have reflections. But Dracula has a castle, and that castle will be damned if it isn’t his mirror.
Reflections are simple to change; put on some makeup, some war paint, a new change of clothes, get a piercing somewhere. Simple, yes, but not easy, to change completely, because that doesn’t mean anything’s changed inside.
The castle did not come equipped for child-rearing; there are no rooms full of toys and cradles and school supplies.
So if this is to be, they must build their son’s world themselves.
Together they set aside a room for the child’s arrival. Just one, single room. And the castle too knows, from the start, this room will be different from all the rest. They will put paintings on the walls, and banners in the halls; things to interest him, to tell him of his parents, at least, even if there are few other relatives to spend Christmas with. The carpets will be darker, instead of the stringent red, and they will make their words smaller, the books easier to understand. The rest of the castle is warm in color, but cool in atmosphere. This room will be cool in color, but warm in atmosphere. The fire will always be set in its place, and they will try their best to make sure the warmth reaches him; if the fire fails, they will knit blankets; if the blankets fail they will make him tea, or warm milk with honey; and when everything else fails they will hold him. If there are tears here, scornful stares will not greet them, instead, kisses and lullabies will be behind door number three. If this room lives, it will be because of something much softer than pounding metal and lighting.
If a child is to live here, they must change that reflection. Everything Dracula’s castle appears to be, this room will be the reverse. Separate. Something… other than the castle.
This room will bottle all the laughter had in this castle. This room will be made of and for living, not the death the rest of the place is steeped in. So much so that this room will not stand for bloodshed.
Lisa brings in supplies from her town; color and cloth, boards and brushes, needle, and thread, and paper; all the things one needs to build a universe.
It is Dracula who takes the paint, who changes the color to something other than the blacks and reds of the rest of the Vampire’s world, cementing on the walls themselves You will not be dark here, my castle. You will be kind to him, Castlevania. The castle doesn’t know its master to work with his hands like a human, but Vlad is not the same within this room either—this room is part of the trade. He doesn’t use magic, or science, as if he is telling himself with every hammer that they are going to change together, the way one does when talking to the mirror.
Lisa sits in a chair and stiches together cloth and fur to make little creatures, toys for the boy to play with. Soft things, not sharp. They are reflections too, littler, simpler ones, of the creatures howling and prowling outside the castle’s walls, or scurrying within them.
But it is the ceiling that is the crowning jewel of the room. Something they paint together—splashing it onto each other’s clothes and noses.
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His parents love the stars. They often walk outside the castle walls, fingers knit into each other’s, to gaze at them. They are scholars at soul, and have charted the constellations. They want their child to be able to do the same, to watch the stars, even if he’s not outside. At the end of every day they want him to be sung to sleep by the symphony of the night.
For them, maybe, but to the castle, one of the most interesting things about this room, is the mirror. This is strange, as, while there are other mirrors in this house, they are nothing more than a silver decoration; they have no purpose here, unless they float in shards and possibility. This is an ordinary mirror. It does hold something now, however, and that’s Lisa—only giving more credence to the idea that she is the only living thing in this castle. The castle wonders if they think it will reflect the child, as if they are hoping he will take after his mother and the room.
The mirror, and the windows. In the rest of the castle, the windows are always closed, curtained, or too small to let any real light in. But here they are big, and inviting to all the wiles of the day. Dracula protested—fearing he would burn. Lisa insisted—hoping he would shine.
The mirror, the room, are empty now. The windows closed. The books and charts dormant as the rest. It is not dead, but it’s not alive either. Not even undead. Just a question. An almost.
The room lays on Frankenstein’s table; just one lightning strike—(or one child’s laugh)—away from breathing.
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lululawrence · 3 years
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lululawrence’s April 2021 Fic List
Previous Fic Lists / Fic List Podcast Masterpost
April has been a bit of a roller coaster, hasn’t it? But here we are, already almost May! I was able to read so many incredible fics this month. Like... truly, so many STELLAR fics. I’m finally back to reading more of last year’s Big Bang fics, plus a couple that I betaed have already posted, and then I threw in some other shorter ones for fun as well, and I cannot wait to share them with you and tell you what I loved about each one.
In fact, if you’d really like to hear me rhapsodize about these fics, you can listen to my podcast here.
As always, be sure to show your love and appreciation for all of the hard work our fandom authors have put into their fics with kudos, nice comments, and (when applicable) reblogging their fic posts!
Falling in the Wrong Direction by @fallinglikethis / FallingLikeThis (25k, E, Harry/Louis, past Liam/Harry, Big Bang fic, based on Catch and Release, grieving Harry, Liam has recently died when the fic starts, Louis was Liam’s best friend, enemies to friends to lovers, roommates Niall and Zayn, secrets, for real the grief is real in this one, soooo many emotions and all of them perfectly navigated, i loved it all so very much)
sustenance by Anonymous (12k, E, Harry/Louis, Girl Direction, Induced Lactation, Breastfeeding, Lactation Kink, Footballer Louis, Public Breastfeeding, I mean it kinda is public cause they’re surrounded by others due to the nature of the experiment, It’s a whole science thing, it’s... listen it’s all for smut’s sake and it’s fucking hot so, if lactation kink is your thing you gotta do it lol)
Let Me Kiss You by Anonymous (4k, G, Harry/Louis, Zayn/Louis, Liam/Louis, Niall/Louis, Canon Compliant, Louis kisses everyone, I think he and Harry are actually dating and he isn’t dating the rest, anyway, Recreational Drug Use aka weed lol, It’s back when the band was together but kinda seems to float across some years?, Fuck, listen, this fic was just so incredibly pure and good, I loved it so much, I loved how each kiss had a different reason, and the way it is all framed???, IT’S WONDERFUL I LOVED IT PLEASE READ IT)
Hooked With Just One Taste by @dinosaursmate / dinosaursmate (49k, E, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic, Cam Boy Louis, Rich Harry, Former-Celebrity Harry, he’s still kinda famous but not actively if that makes sense lmao, side Ziall, I LOVE THE ZIALL OKAY OMG, Also listen, this fic is sooooo smutty and hot and great, but it also is so pure and good?, Like the way Harry and Louis interact and grow to be so into each other for more than just sexy times?, SO GOOD, anyway read itttttt, the art is PERFECT for it too!, props to @wilywolf for that hehe)
your crimes are quiet, my love by @lightwoodsmagic / lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes) (98k, E, Zayn/Liam, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic, Miss Congeniality AU, but make it darker and more realistic, lolllll It’s still sooooo much fun though omggggg, MI5 Agents Liam and Zayn, Ziam are partners for work, pining, SO much pining, friends to lovers, oblivious boys seriously, Louis is the pageant trainer/consultant, Harry is Liam’s roommate for the pageant and a contestant, I cannot express to you how incredible this fic was and how much it sucks you in, the storyline was such an original and incredible and creepy yet really lovely take on the original story, i fucking loved it, oh there’s side Shiall too and I loved them even if they weren’t in it nearly so much as the rest!)
Favourite Boy by @quelsentiment / wordsnnotes (9k, T, Zayn/Louis, pining, lack of communication, Friends with Benefits to Lovers, Except they’re more just... the benefits?, I guess it’s more like... Regular Booty Calls to Lovers, lmaoooo, for real though this fic omggggg, it sucked me right into Zayn’s head and the whole issue of it all, and they just won’t talk!!!, SO CRAZY GOOD OMG)
But I’m the Quarterback by @evilovesyou / 4ureyesonly28 (52k, E, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic, But I’m the Cheerleader AU, quarterback Harry, Conversion Therapy Camp, Sexuality Crisis, Gay Awakening, Crisis of Faith, Self Harm, Listen, this fic is heavy at times, but for the most part it really is so lovely and gentle, The way Harry comes to learn about himself and accept himself, all with the wonderful people around him going through the same thing, AND LARRY AND LLOYD OMGGGG I LOVE THEM SO MUCHHHHH, anyway, i love this fic please give it a chance if you can handle the tags!, and MASSIVE shout out to the artist @whatagreatproblemtohave for the amazing art!)
Felt Nothing Like Home by @becomeawendybird / QuickedWeen (62k, E, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic, Bon Appetit Test Kitchen AU, Specifically a Brad/Claire AU for those who are familiar hehe, Pastry Chef Harry, Professional Chef Louis, YouTube AU, Pining, All the fucking pining, Friends to Lovers, Secret Relationship, This fic is so warm and lovely and soft, And funny omg so funny, but also so sweet, it was absolutely stellar, I love)
The Journal by @wait4ever / RecycledStardust and @evilovesyou / 4ureyesonly28 (14k, G, Harry/Louis, Alternate Universe, Magic, Spells, Mystery, Twin Flames, Soulmates, Reincarnation in a way, Rituals, 1990s AU, but also a Historical fic in certain scenes, and NO the 90s aren’t historical yet FIGHT ME, anyway sorry lol, This fic is so special and I keep getting choked up just thinking about it, It is absolutely lovely and the found friends/family aspect is also so so lovely, and I just, Oh gosh it is a must read please read this fic I’m begging you)
Things Unsaid by @londonfoginacup / LadyLondonderry (4k, G, Harry/Louis, Soulmate Fest fic, which of course means Soulmates!, Soulmarks, Meet Cute, Or well kinda a meet ugly whoops, lol, Lilo Friendship, Humor, Listen this fic is borderline crack in the best way and I laughed so many times reading it, It was lighthearted and wonderful)
To the late night double feature show by @londonfoginacup / LadyLondonderry (2k, NR, Harry/Louis, Halloween fic, Cryptid Harry, kinda? I think he’s considered a cryptid?, lmao ANYWAY, meet cute, Clifford, Crack, This fic was once again adorable and silly and yet soft and warm and once again, I love it, Let’s all just sit and admire the way Emmu’s brain works shall we?)
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minisoysquares · 3 years
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As fun as the events and ideas you posted about 19days would be, wouldn’t it also just bring in more negative stuff - like fandom in general has become a field of land mines and I fear that something that’s supposed to fun will turn into some sort of battle. Like how some people get extremely heated over any other ships outside of their fave ship and they cannot possibly have other ships except theirs, etc. The last thing anyone wants is for content creators to be targeted simply for making something they thought would be fun
(This ask and answer is about this post.)
First of all thank you so much for addressing such a big and valid concern. I agree that that has indeed happened in certain fandoms - I can say I've been in the thick of it and witnessed quite the warfare - but in others it has also brought fans and readers and content creators together even closer and tighter in a wonderful thriving community.
I have the feeling this'll get quite long so please proceed under the cut with that in mind.
I believe all things are potential harbingers of both discord and harmony. There will always be people who feel entitled and who want - even demand! the audacity! - authors and artists to create for their ships and their ships alone. And there will also always be people who can appreciate the writing and the art without judgemental treatment regarding the pairings/characters depicted, no matter their preferences.
All of that happens and will continue to happen, whether we go forward with these events or not. And yet authors will still write what they want to write, artists will still draw what they want to draw, graphic designers will still make the edits they want to make as well. What we could do, in this small and close knit fandom, is take in our hands this powerful rich opportunity and try our best to make a model of positivity out of it.
In these events, there would be no bashing or shaming allowed. The content created would be to be enjoyed by those who are attracted to it, and those who do not have a taste for that fanwork in particular would be asked to remain respectful. (As it should always be.) There would be no ship wars in these spaces. Discourse, hate-speech or anti-behaviour would not be tolerated by the moderators of the event.
Creators who indulged in it would be immediately disqualified. Any unnecessary commentary or complaints from the audience would be deleted and reported as spam. Anyone instigating conflict would be only painting a target on their back, really. Because most of us - I dare say - are only here to appreciate the brilliant artwork and fanfiction woven and crafted by the talented people who share it with us.
If it came to it and it escalated, this hellsite has several tools that can be put to use to that regard. Accounts could be blocked and/or even reported. They wouldn't be able to interact with the blogs created to run these events from then on. We would be able to create a black list and post it publicly so everyone else who wished to could simply block those unruly pesky accounts and remain at peace and free to enjoy themselves to their utmost.
Let us not forget that this is all fiction and it's all for fun. Everyone's allowed to have their own opinion, likes and dislikes. There simply is no need to step on anyone else and their interests to elevate them.
Let's exemplify, for the sake of clarity:
Do I personally ship A with B? Imagine I do not. I do not search for it. If I come across it? I scroll past it. Once or twice, I may even like - and even reblog - if it happens to catch my attention and it's well written/drawn! (I have tags along the lines of 'I don't ship it but' and 'look at this beautiful art' or 'drown in the power of these words.')
It's so easy to interact amongst ourselves without coming with pitchforks at one another. Know what actually needs effort? Being a meanie and a party popper! Who in their right mind wastes their time on things they don't care for? Dum dums, that's who! Of course, we're all dummies at times... and that's okay! Let's just not harass people or crash their fun while we're at it!
If nothing else: you wouldn't like if others did this or that to you, therefore don't do it to others. It's a simple concept to grasp.
Very important: in these events, every single piece would be explicitly and properly tagged and warned for right at the very top of each post, so there would be absolutely no excuses for anyone being nasty.
We would just have to be open to the experience. Enjoy our ships and let other enjoy theirs. We do not have to all like the same thing. That would be just boring. But we can cohabitate devoid of trouble in fandom. Each one of us just has to be respectful. No need to even be nice. No one has to compliment something they don't like. They also don't have to step on what others do.
Don't like a ship/character/theme? Don't read stories focused on it. Don't put down authors who write it or readers who enjoy it. Same for art. No need to shout about how awful it is just for the simple reason that it does not fit into your personal shipping preferences. It can still be still be a tasty and wonderfully baked cake, it's just that you're not fond of vanilla or strawberries. It's okay. There are all kinds of cake for everyone's tastes!
Further examples: If a ship happens to be a NOTP for me or I don't care for the character(s)? I filter the tags. All of them. Any and every tag I can think of. It's very easy to protect ourselves on Tumblr from content we do not wish to see. (My own list is huge and just as effective.) Filtering is incredibly important.
So go ahead and filter out the ships you can do without! Filter out porte-manteaux like Tianshan, Zhanyi, Qiucheng, Tianxi, Tianyi, Lishan, Litian, Liyi, Shantou, Polydays, (...) Filter out any ship tag that doesn't strike your fancy like Q x MGS, HC x JY's mom, (...) Filter out characters that aren't your cuppa tea like HT, HT's dad, SL, JY's mom, XH, (...)
Make it safe for yourself and for others. That way you won't rage at the sight of your NOTP, won't feel the compulsive need to trash the people who ship it, no one is hurt and everyone is happy!
There are many steps we could follow to prevent rotten eggs in our coop. And many more actions we could take to throw them out if need be. I firmly believe, however, that if we're all of the same mind everything would go well and with very few bumps along the way.
If we only ever feared the possible negative consequences of our actions, never taking the risk for the possible positive ones, we'd never get anything done. I say let's not let our beloved fandom stagnate or dry out. Let's incentivate and motivate and inspire! Let's share! Let's have fun!
Think of it in these terms: it wouldn't be a competition at all but rather a charity event. Performers and spectators coming together for a common good, raising content and spreading joy! There would be no winners or losers or prizes. What would matter would be good old-fashioned participation, both by providing content and/or consuming it.
It could also a good way to get people to express themselves more. Many content consumers tend to lurk or keep to themselves even if they like the content posts. (I used to be one myself and only a couple months ago started to come out of my shell.) I myself advocate for reblogging instead of liking - if you have to choose one or the other, I mean, why not do both? - and leaving a word on every single post I like and/or reblog. Sometimes I go nuts commenting, sometimes I leave a small note in the tags.
It doesn't matter how. Even if you're shy or introverted (*raises hand*) or don't know what to say I guarantee a single emoticon or a string of disordered letters symbolising incoherence will make the creator's day all the same. Getting feedback is so important and motivational for creators and also a great way for fandom members to keep in touch and support each other.
Additionally, if a person would like more of a certain type of content here are some healthy actions they could take: a) commission a creator and pay for it if they can; b) politely make a suggestion to a creator with an open ask box; c) post a prompt publicly for possible interested creators to use; d) do it yourself and share it with others!
This turned out into more of a "behavioural guidelines" thing than I'd have liked. I am not in any way whatsoever telling anyone what to do. This is what I do, and it works wonders for me. I stay completely out of toxic arguments and in on all the goodies. I'm able to fully enjoy my fandoms. And isn't that what we all want?
Thank you again for sharing your thoughts with me. And I apologise for the long rant!
Of course, this is only my personal stance on the issue. I did go for a survey first exactly for this end, to get their opinions on the subject and see if it would be worth a shot. I shall hope many other people will think as I do, but I will wholly respect those who don't.
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NEVER NOT | AFTER YEARS . . .
❃ PAIRING tom holland x fem!reader
❃ DISCLAIMER i do not own the artists (and the reader) that are going to portray the characters, but i do own some of the their names. the plot of the story is inspired to the book and movie 'to all the boys i've loved before' but with changes. the gifs and photos used in this series are edited by me but i get credits to the originals. also, this series is first posted in wattpad by me. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST IT SOMEWHERE ELSE !
❃ WORD COUNT 2.8k words
❃ AUTHOR'S NOTES you have reached the final chapter of my tom holland series, never not! for those who have reached this part, i would like to say thank you so much for taking your time to read this cliche story that i wrote originally on wattpad, and hopefully, you enjoyed and loved it. thank you also for the constant reblogs and likes for each chapter in this series. i truly appreciate every reblog and like you gave. i also hope that you are satisfied with the ending of this series. with lots of love, lei <3
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NEVER NOT MASTERPOST | LEI'S LIBRARY
"All love stories are tales of beginnings. When we talk about falling in love, we go to the beginning, to pinpoint the moment of freefall." - Meghan O'Rourke
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
"ONE MORE POSE FOR ME!"
Flash.
"And another one!"
Flash.
"Alright!" Y/N exclaimed and removed her Canon 90D DSLR camera from her right eye. "That's it for today, guys! Great job everyone!" shouted once more and looked at the photos that she took from the monitor of the computer.
She was doing a photoshoot for one of the famous magazine companies, The Hollywood Reporter. She was one of the photographers for the magazine company for almost a year already. She surely was so happy to receive a call way back a year ago before that she was hired. And, she surely was so happy to pursue what she dreamed of.
"Great shots, Y/N. Great as always." Someone said from behind her and Y/N could just smile at the compliment.
"Thank you, Millie." She said and looked at Camille. Camille became a fashion designer like how she always wanted to be. She worked alongside Y/N in several photoshoots just this year, coincidentally.
"Want to grab some coffee on the way home?" Camille asked as she prepared her purse and placed it on her shoulder.
"Sure," Y/N said and got the hard drive that was plugged into the computer since all of the photos were there. Not only was she a photographer but also one of the editors for the magazines. "But after that, I gotta go somewhere."
"Are you gonna go to that place again?" Camille asked and Y/N looked at her and nodded as an answer. They walked out together as they were the only people left there.
"I'll probably call Erika after you go. Just gonna remind her about the reunion that our family had planned for this weekend." Camille said while walking beside Y/N.
"But she'll probably be with Harrison right now," Y/N said.
"They're still together all these years? Never knew she was a relationship person honestly." Camille said.
"Me either. But, she's happy so I'm happy for her." Y/N said.
They entered the coffeehouse that was packed with busy people. The scent of coffee went to their noses as soon as they got in.
"I totally forgot that it's still Friday today," Camille said. "So many people."
They lined up in the long line since there was only one cashier available.
"By the way, have you seen the latest movie?" Camille asked Y/N and she gave a confused look.
"Which one?" Y/N asked back.
"I think it was the— erm— The latest Spiderman movie. I don't know the full title but I heard they just released a new one this month." Camille said. "Tom is in it right?"
Tom.
That name that Y/N will never forget.
Y/N smiled under her breath before answering her. "Yeah, I guess."
After that, they just waited for the line to be shorter and shorter until they were the next one to order. After they ordered, they stood in the corner waiting for their coffee to be made.
"One cappuccino and latte for Y/N!"
"I'll get it," Camille said and walked fast to get their orders. She mouthed thank you to the lady and went to Y/N's side again. "Here's your cappuccino," Camille said and handed Y/N her drink as they made their way out of the coffeehouse.
"So, I'll see you on Monday at work?" Camille asked.
"Always." That was what Y/N answered. "Take care!" She added before waving goodbye to Camille and went in the opposite direction as her with her drink in her hand.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Y/N parked her car on the side of the empty road. After how many months, almost a year, of driving lessons, she could finally drive for herself.
Before she got out, she got her drink and her other things first and removed her coat. She got out of the car with her things and shut the door and locked it.
The wind suddenly blew her hair and she smiled at this great feeling. As she walked towards the sand, she took off her shoes and placed them in the same spot that she would sit on. Luckily, no one was in the place other than herself.
The sun was almost setting and the waves were still moving in the ocean. She had come to this place almost every day or at least most of the time. The light of the sun reflected on the sun symbol on her bracelet that he gave her a few years back. She sighed at the thought of him.
She had lost contact with him just almost a year ago because of his busy schedule but Harrison would be the one to tell her how Tom was doing and all. Well, not really lost contact but they rarely contacted each other for the past few months due to their work.
Although those had happened, she never stopped going back to this place that Tom wanted her to always go. This was the place that kept her alive and stress-free.
Their relationship had its ups and downs.
Tom became one of the most famous celebrities in the world ever since he got the role of being Spiderman. After that, he had more upcoming movies for the past years later on.
Although there may have been rumors about him being in a relationship with one of his co-stars, Zendaya, because of their roles in Spider-Man, her trust for him remain. Although at some point, it hurt her but that just passed away.
Overall, she was happy for him and for what he has achieved. She was so proud of what he had become. It didn't stop her from visiting his family's house and spending time with them.
"I wish you were here right now." She whispered to herself as the wind could not stop making her hair fly.
"And I'm here." A voice said from a distance but loud enough for her to hear. Her eyes widen at this very familiar voice and her eyes began to water.
She slowly looked in the direction of the voice that she heard and there stood the person that she has been waiting for.
He gave her the same smile that she would never forget. He still looked the same as before but he was more muscular now. He looked better in person than on the big screen or in his interviews. His brown hair is now shorter but still had curls on.
"Tom?" She whispered and he could just easily read her lips calling his name. He opened his arms widely for her. She then ran up to his open arms and did not think twice about wrapping her arms around him. He spun her around as soon as he closed his arms around her.
Her tears fell from her eyes while hugging him. When Tom heard her sob, he placed a hand on her head and stroked her hair. "I'm home, love." He whispered to her.
She pulled away for a while and admired him. His face features, his hair. Everything about him. She suddenly pinched his cheeks with both of her hands that surprised Tom.
"Ow! What was that for?" He asked as he felt the slight pain from the pinch. His voice is deeper than before and his British accent is kind of mixed with an American accent.
"You are real," Y/N said that made Tom chuckle.
She was still as adorable as always. Tom thought
"Of course I am. You thought you're hallucinating?" Tom asked her and she nodded.
"It's been so long to finally see you personally," Y/N said and she slapped him on the chest. "You kept me waiting you know!"
"I'm sorry, love." Tom apologized and kissed her forehead. "Four years, huh?"
"And three months," Y/N added while looking at him and grinned.
"You have been counting," Tom said that made Y/N nod. "I missed you so much." He said and pulled her for a hug again. "God, I do miss you."
"I missed you too, Thomas." She replied and noticed the scrunchie that was on his wrist. The same scrunchie that she gave him before. "You kept it." She said and held to his wrist where the scrunchie was and smiled at him.
"Of course. It really reminded me of you." He answered.
They decided to sit down and talked about each other's new life. Tom was surprised about Y/N's career since he never thought she would be into photography like his brother, Harry.
"Your mom really influenced me to go to that," Y/N said. "That's why I'm so grateful for her."
"I had a photoshoot in that company actually," Tom said and that made her eyes widen. "Really?" She asked.
"Yeah, but that was like two thousand seventeen or something." He answered.
"Your American accent is really showing up," Y/N said and smiled at him.
"Well, most of my roles required this accent which I'm good at, surprisingly." He answered.
"How long have you been here already?" She asked him, curiously.
"Just today. I told my family first and Harrison that I was coming back for a week's vacation. And, I wanted to surprise you." He answered and placed his arms around her shoulders. She placed her head on his shoulder and gave a relieved sigh. Her happiness cannot be measured right now.
"You wanna go to the water?" Tom said and Y/N suddenly ran away from him and giggled.
"If you could catch me first!" Y/N said and ran which made Tom scoffed a laugh.
"I will!" Tom said and chased after her. After a few seconds of running, Tom was a few inches away from her and scooped her legs and carried her bridal style and he walked towards the water.
"No! Put me down! The water is gonna be so cold!" Y/N said but Tom ignored her and laughed. Then, Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and forcefully pushed both of them down together to the water.
"Holy shit, the water is so cold," Y/N said as she raised her head up from the water as well as Tom. "Damn you, Holland!"
"You're gonna pay for that," Tom said and splashed her with water and Y/N did the same. Basically, the couple had a water fight. They kept laughing and splashing on the water to each other even as they stood up.
Tom then grabbed Y/N's arm and pulled her closer to him. They both wrapped their arms around each other and Y/N just gave a light laugh.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
"Do you have a towel in your car?" Tom asked as they got out of the water, their bodies and clothes soaking wet as they stayed there a while ago to watch the sunset.
"Yep. It's on the back. I came prepared." Y/N said as she gave Tom the keys and walked towards her car. Tom could just laugh.
Tom got the towel and wrapped it around Y/N's body and continued to hug her from behind. They decided to stay on the beach a little longer until they dried up. After a few minutes, they then went inside the car with Tom as a driver although Y/N insisted that she would drive.
They went directly to Y/N's apartment that she rented ever since she got her work. Tom parked in the basement of the building. As soon as they got out, Tom locked the cars and gave Y/N back her keys. They walked together and got to an elevator going to her apartment.
"How's your dad and Aria?" Tom asked as Y/N shoved the key on the doorknob.
"They are doing great actually," Y/N answered. "Aria got a job in New Zealand in tourism. And, will you believe that my dad actually got married a year ago?" Y/N said happily and opened the door.
"Really? I never heard of that." Tom said.
"Because we made it a private wedding so it's only our relatives and Mom Trina's family too," Y/N explained to Tom. "Mom Trina is an amazing woman and I'm glad they got to meet each other."
"Your mom will be happy that your dad is happy," Tom said and Y/N could only smile.
She placed her things down the counter table. "This is my home." She said to Tom who was looking everywhere in the apartment. "It's not that bad." He said.
"Yep. In my room, I get to see the city and the sunset and sunrise too." While Y/N was talking. Tom just kept staring at her, admiring her. He couldn't explain how happy he felt when he finally saw her again. He walked closer to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind. This startled Y/N a bit but she held his arms and leaned her back to his chest.
"How did I get so lucky to have you?" Tom whispered and moved her hair away and gave a peck on her neck.
"Destiny, I guess." She answered and turned around to face him. She saw him looked at her lips and decided to close the gap between them by pressing her lips to his. Tom responded to the kiss and pulled her closer to him. As soon as the kiss became heated, she jumped and wrapped her legs around Tom's waist and he was carrying her. He then walked towards her room and shut the room by kicking his foot at the door while kissing and carrying her.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
The ray of light hit Y/N's eyes as soon as she woke up. She felt strong arms around her bare waist and she smiled. She yawned and stretched her legs before she tried to move Tom's arm around her. She could still hear his soft snores beside her. His curls are really showing off when his head was on the pillow. She tried to get up but was stopped when she felt a hand grabbing her wrist and pulling her back to the bed. Strong arms wrapped around her again but this time tighter.
"Tom!" She exclaimed.
"Don't leave me here," Tom mumbled while his eyes were still closed and snuggled his head to her neck which tickled a little.
"Alright, baby," Y/N said and snuggled back at him. "But I have to cook breakfast. It's like almost lunch already."
"That was a long long night." Tom teased and Y/N felt her cheeks heat up as she remembered what happened last night. She slapped Tom's arm playfully who just laughed at her. "Let's do it again," Tom whispered in her ear with a husky voice and attempted to kiss her again but Y/N covered his mouth with her hand.
"Nope, nope. Not happening." Y/N said as she shoved his arms away from her and stood up with the blanket wrapped around her. "You better go and shower, Holland!" She exclaimed as she exited her room.
"Join me, then!"
"Shut it, Thomas!"
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
"Alright, we're on our way now, mum," Tom said through his phone as he drove in the road. "Love you too. Bye." He ended the call and placed his phone down. His eyes focusing on the road.
"What did she say?" Y/N asked.
"Harrison and Erika are already there and there done preparing." He answered and she just nodded as an answer. He glanced at her and smiled, taking her nearest hand and intertwining their fingers together. Y/N looked at him and smiled back. Tom decided to stop driving for a while which made Y/N confused. He parked the car on the side of the road.
"What's wrong?" Y/N asked, concerned.
"I just..." Tom paused for a while. "I'm just so happy that I got to see you again," Tom said and looked at her deep in her eyes.
Y/N placed a hand on his cheek and smiled. "Me too, Tom." She said.
"I'll take you with me once my vacation is over," Tom said and her eyes widen.
"But I have work—"
"I already talked to your manager and he's fine with it. He's gonna give you a break for a while." Tom said.
"How is that even possible?" She asked and giggled.
"Secret," Tom said and grinned. "I want you to see my work and some of the co-stars want to meet you."
"Seriously?" Y/N asked. "You talked about me to them?"
"Yep." Tom answered, emphasizing the 'p'. "Even the Avenger cast wants to meet you."
"Alright, then. I'll get to see celebrities." Y/N squealed and smiled at him. "At least I get to see my boyfriend work. This is exciting."
Tom placed a hand on her nape and pulled her head closer for him to kiss your forehead and lips.
"I love you, my love." He said. "You are my world and my everything."
Oh, how lucky they were for each other.
"I love you, too, Tom."
Always.
Forever.
Fin.
❝ WE WERE SO BEAUTIFUL
WE WERE SO TRAGIC
NO OTHER MAGIC
COULD EVER COMPARE ❞
❃ ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE to add, feel free to also comment or reblog how this series was. i would lovre to read your thoughts and feelings about this series. once again, thank you for reading NEVER NOT, by yours truly 🦋
❃ TAGLIST @allthisfortommy @kait4073 @lovebittenbyevans @l0ve-0f-my-life @spiitfiires @robertpattinson-th @jackiehollanderr @butterflies-glitter
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