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cursedzucchini · 1 year

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You know what? Fuck it

DC x DP prompt #3

I think at least lmao.

Anyway! Jason starts making videos on YouTube for one reason or another (is really stressed, no one listens to his rants Abt books who cares). His content is mostly bad books he read or really really really long rants Abt pride and prejudice. Like 3 hours on one tiny detail he noticed on his 214th read through.

He's kinda popular, mostly bc his terrible books videos. He talks Abt the ones that made him the most mad, which coincidentally are mostly romance and supernatural. Like he's one of the well known figures in the supernatural romance critique group (whcih is pretty small, but well). (Also he doesn't show his face on camera, bc secret identity and stuff, it's just his voice over a video of something mundane, like the sky or a room in which is a fly or something)

And now this can go two ways, that i can think of (w dead on main in mind at least)

1) one day Jason finds a book which is supernatural romance and is actually good. It has a kidna cliche system for the supernatural stuff, but with a refreshing twist. The characters have depts and flaws, yet are still very likable. The plot is actually interesting and overall the story's theme is death, not belonging anywhere and overall stuff that is very close to Jason's heart. The story doesn't shy away from violence and it is suprisingly accurate.

(I'm.gonna reblog this w pretty long idea of what this book could be Abt, bc i don't wanna annoy ppl lol)

Anyway Jason kinda falls in love w it, and it becomes famous for being the first novel Jason rated positively or something.

Meanwhile Danny, who was told by jazz writing is good way to get his feeling out, and just wanted to make a quick buck, is really fucking confused how tf did his book become so popular and who tf is this nerd who rates books for a living.

(basically big fan Jason and suspicious/awkward Danny lmao)

2) there is a famous series on Jason profile. It's the worst fucking series he ever read and it's just fucking awful. All the characters are fucking terrible, always going on and on about one thing, the romance sucks in a way that isnt even funny. Jason would love to believe some wrote this as a joke, if it wasn't for the absolute cringefest this was, and it wasn't a whole ass series!! Like who writes 12 books for a joke?

Danny ducking Fenton that's who. Dude was so ducking annoyed at his rogues, he threatened them w writing a terrible romance novels abt them. The ghosts, knowing his terrible grade in literature backed off for a moment, before someone crossed the line. And write Danny did. It was the worst thing he had ever written, the love interest was perfect caricature yet still faithfully go the original. And Danny, because fuck them he lost sommuch sleep over that one prank, decided to publish it. (The book was pretty thin so it didn't take that much time writing it). Unfortunately it became immensely popular in the infinite realm. So the ghosts started crossing lines on purpose. Before Danny figured it out, he had already published his fifth book and was writing another three. After some bargaining, getting a book written Abt them as a piece of shit love interest became a reward.

And while yeah, he had to say his writing was terrible and the books sucked, some small part of him was kinda proud y'know? Like a mother of her twelve ugly as fuck toddlers.

So when he saw some nerd on the internet not only shit talk his book, but also get money of it?

Danny decided to haunt him (just like his books did him, now that everyone knew Abt them thanks to this guy)

(enemies (sorta it's not that serious tho) to lovers ala terrible writer Danny who hates his books and kinda famous YouTuber hasn't who also hates Danny's books)

Fuck this is way too long wtf. Anyway imma reblog this w 1) book idea. Might add whatever i think the twelve books could be Abt. Pls if u want to add anything to this pls do!!

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fairiesdowntheroad · 8 months

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SHE LOVES CONTROL ; prologue.

summary — being a woman is difficult.what about being a woman who is pursuing a career in motorsports? you would be met with pandemonium.that was the story of her life.always having to fight for a place among the big leagues ; in this case the men just to prove she belonged in the sport.

her last name didn’t help her much either.the world would continue to bark and bite away at her confidence — even more so if they knew of her family ties.that was the reason why she chose to race under a different name,everyone would respect her so called “underdog” story after all.

the drivers were….alright to say the least.she knew of their prying eyes and judging stares when she had first made her appearance on the grid.thankfully,there were a few diamonds in the rough to help her out.for now,she just needed to prove herself to everyone ; quench her hunger for victory.this was going to be a wild season..

pairing — f1 22-23 grid x fem driver!reader,love interest tbd

warnings — misogyny.

teaser | prologue | chapter 1

FROM J ⛅️ : hello everyone!! the prologue is here <3 it’s just a little teaser to Y/N and her character,also her friendship with albonoooo 😮‍💨 she’ll interact with the other drivers soon,don’t worry! please lmk your thoughts and if you want to be added to the taglist!

“Who run the world? Girls! Y/N Y/LN to race for Formula 1 — establishing her place as the first woman to race in the big leagues since Maria Teresa de Filippis”

“Do women really belong in Motorsport? What makes Y/N Y/LN so special?”

“A recipe for disaster: Y/N Y/LN’s Formula 1 debut and what it could mean for the future of motorsport”

Headline after headline.

Articles either criticising her every move or stating their unwavering support for her.

She read each and every article published about the news — eager to know how the world would react.A part of her already made peace with the reality that there would be people reacting terribly towards the news ; let it be a man or woman.The men simply viewed her inferior to the other drivers,commenting on how her biological capabilities were “leagues away” from the other nineteen…..just because of what was between her legs.The women on the other hand were possesive…thinking she would steal away their beloved drivers because she definetly was the only female presence on the paddock.

It was humorous really,how a mere woman wanting her career to align with motorsports could cause such an uprise of reactions among everyone.

Her eyes scanned over the headlines again and again.Laughing at the things they had to say.She found the articles scrutinising her every move amusing — it was ironic how they perceived her as ‘unworthy’ of a seat.

Yet,she did beat everyone else in Formula 2 in terms of points…claiming her place as the champion.

Becoming the champion of Formula 2 was a tough fight.She had stayed there for a few years,giving it her all to stand above all with victory — and she did in the end.Did they hate her because she was victorious? Or was it because she had rightfully earned her place among the others? She would never know..not like she wanted to anyway.

“You haven’t even had your debut,yet you’re causing an uproar on the internet” he hummed in amusement standing next to her while he observed her reading the words on her phone.His british accent was hard to miss as she chuckled along with him.“I think it’s admirable” Alex added on with his voice filled with sincerity.A bashful smile made its way on her face,flattered and touched by his words.

“That makes me a little more hungry to prove to everyone I belong here” she admitted with a chuckle.She was eternally grateful for the little support she had coming from him and her family…though she was more discreet when it came to the family part.He placed a hand on her shoulder squeezing it softly.

“You will.” he nodded his head,patting her back before making his way to the car.Her nerves buzzed with excitement ; her last race as a reserve driver.A few more months,and that seat would be hers.She felt remorseful for Latifi because he lost his seat…but it would be her turn to take on the mantle now.She would take his place since he didn’t perform.

That was Formula 1.

A sport dependant on results.If you didn’t deliver, it was best to kiss your seat goodbye.She could only cross her fingers and pray the 2023 season was kind to her.She needed the team to see her results….see her effort.There was no way she worked her ass off just to quit now.Thankfully,James Vowles was there to see her worth.She had caught his eye — he was watching her races in Formula 2,undoubtedly raising his expectations with the performance she served on the track.

It was only a matter of time until she was offered a seat,he was unwilling to let such talent go to waste.

Williams.

Not her first choice for a team when it came to making her debut but — she was eternally grateful she had a seat regardless.It was also a step closer to Mercedes….even if she didn’t want aim to race with them.

Not when he would be there.

BAHRAIN 23’ : THURSDAY.

“How do you feel about making your Formula 1 debut this Sunday?” the reporter asked curiously as he jotted down notes in his journal.The two RedBull drivers on her left and right turned their heads to observe her,eager to know what she had to say.

“It’s definitely nerve wracking — I’m feeling quite nervous to be honest” she admitted with a shy smile.Max and Checo chuckled softly at her words,the 2-time world champion nodding in understanding on how she would feel.

“But…I feel excited as well.I want to prove to everyone that I deserve to be here just as much as the others.With Williams and Alex supporting me,I hope I can do exactly that” she finished her sentence,putting down the mic as fans clapped at her answer.It was diplomatic ; she was biting her tongue and choosing not to express her true feelings.

If she had the right to be a 100% honest there would be a lot more of….colourful words being spoken.

The fans were definetly a plot twist.Hearing them cheer for her was heartwarming.She still did recieve her fair share of hate,but she would “focus on the positives” — just like dad advised.He was all the wiser when it came to motorsports anyway.

”Well Y/N,I hope the season treats you well.You’ve already made a name for yourself so I’m sure all will go smoothly”the reporter replied to her,the girl smiling bashfully and thanking him for his kind wishes.

The press conference ended after a few more questions being thrown here and there.She walked over to the managers with a pep to her step while maintaining the calm expression on her face….even if her heart felt like it was about to burst.Alex stood there as well with small smile gracing his face.Her first press conference as a Formula 1 Driver! It was a milestone to her.

“You did amazing” Thea — her newly appointed PR Manager said with a smile.She chuckled softly,taking the water bottle she was offered with for a sip.Her heart screamed with excitement,adrenaline coursing through her veins even if it was only Thursday.There were three more days for her to impress everyone.

She shaked off her train of thoughts with a smile.Opening her mouth,she answered with a cheeky response.

“I hope I can do the same on-track then”

taglist — @eutrizbea @eugene-emt-roe @ivoryluvs @itsjustkhaos @lewisvinga @kodzuvk @roseseraj @iliyad @laura-naruto-fan1998 @l0verl4ne

#formula one #f1 fic #f1 x driver!reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lando norris x reader #alex albon x reader #george russell x reader #oscar piastri x reader #carlos sainz x reader #pierre gasly x reader #yuki tsunoda x reader

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nana-b0b · 29 days

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》🔞 These panels are censored, you can go to the last of the post to find out where to see them!

A little historical info to better understand:

♡♡♡♡♡!!! I really feel happy and overcome with these panels, I was thinking a lot about how to make them since there were several obstacles: I had never drawn something NSFW before as it should be 😅 I never got that far so to speak, there was always a line that prevented me from taking that step, since it is not the same to draw some small scene where you only see something specific to a whole pose as such and all that implies. But after many ideas and turns I managed to take that step (maybe small for some but for me it was like reaching the moon 😂) and the most important and most feared was that the essence of the drawings and the style would be lost but I could keep it well and make it coexist ♡.

Note: as for the text accompanying the panels I want to say that it's not my best work as a narrator hahaha I don't write anything since I was about fifteen and it was my era of fanfics and stuff, so I feel its very basic and empty! 😅 ♥!

Now, let's talk a bit about the panels! Well, as we all knew this moment was coming, it was no surprise -3- Ryomen really had to be patient to get what he had been thinking for a while, but he didn't want it to be something random as it could be with any woman he wanted, he was really curious to see how Aurora could look like with the full appearance of a lady of the Heian era and when he saw her, he just couldn't resist. One thing will be clear: Aurora won't wear black teeth again, there will be no way to paint her teeth again without someone losing a limb. As for her eyebrows: she's really mad about that, but I'll let it go.

And to close this post I come with a novelty (I've been thinking about this for days) now we are going to be able to have these drawings completely uncensored on patreon.

I'm not going to lie, using more than two social networks for me is already a lot 😥 if it were up to me I would only post everything in one place but we know how the rules are and we have to respect them, if just by showing a nipple (which is a pixel 😂 ) they almost censored me on Instagram I knew this would be difficult and Tumblr is not lagging behind, while there are things that it lets pass there are others that it doesn't and it's not nice to have to make such complex drawings so that the AI doesn't detect them as 🔞 since there comes a certain point that you get tired too and it loses the grace.

My patreon will be the place for all my works 🔞 without any censorship already, you are going to be able to enjoy both public and private content depending on the type of work ♡. I think also for me it's an incentive to be able to start letting go more of my ideas and continue with everything I want to do :)

To say goodbye first I want to always thank you for all the support you give me and all your messages 🖤 and second to warn you that this CAP of Ren will be in patreon already published privately but all the other censored drawings are public for you to see and enjoy them as they should ⭐

Here are the publications that I censored and that you can now see, there are not many at the moment x'D

#sketch #jjk #jujutsu fanart #sukuna ryomen #jjk oc #ransketch #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen

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christinebloodwrittings · 2 months

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To hunt or be hunted #2

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer

Summary: Strong statements from the "feared" king of hell, deadly oversights, cute duck-shaped cupcakes and the forgotten terror that lives beneath the hotel enjoying a certain demon's broadcast.

Warnings: Self loathing, a bit of a scare, nothing else I can think of.

Taglist: open...

The crowd, and 102 notes have spoken. Funny enough, things I consider drabbles blow up, and stuff that I like and post stays forgotten, anyways that's life. Feedback is always appreciated btw.

For the ppl that voted One-shot, my request box is open if you guys want to drop something Hazbin related.

Charlie had habilitated a back door for the kitchen, heading to the street, so that groceries and the kitchen supplies that you order could arrive unnoticed and would not bother her guests. Also for you to come and go as you may see fit without drawing, as she called it, ‘Unwanted attention’.

Of course she wasn’t thinking of the swarm of questions that may come your way, but more like if they found out, she would have to break the little image she had worked on all this years, the controlled, nice and loving princess everyone knew; to show a bit of the real menace she can be. She hated exercising her authority over others because of what happened with you, it felt wrong and invasive, so she never wanted to re-enter the same void she had fell through when her mother left.

She still used a more severe tone when addressing to you and her orders, or as she calls them ‘mandatory suggestions’, orders nonetheless, and when she asks you for what you’ve heard around town. She wants to keep up with what the people say about the hotel? Not entirely, she just likes gossip.

When either Angel Dust or Husk asked Charlie where did the food come from, she either said that she ordered it, or rely on the fact that sometimes Nifty cooked, per Alastor’s suggestion, but only when he wasn’t around to bring out the fact that she was lying.

Your ears perked up at some noise coming from the renovated parlor, usually it was just Alastor messing with the king of Hell, which made your eyes roll in annoyance given his lack of battle IQ, but the stubborn stag was mildly protected by the princess’s favor, without it, his head would hang on the king’s wall, probably as a coat rack. Now, that thought brought you a smile and a small laugh.

Later at night, when most demons were fast asleep, Angel Dust tiptoe his way inside the hotel, after a long session demanded by Valentino. He tried no to groan given the fatigue, and as he stretched backwards, making his back crack.

“What the fuck?” he muttered when a candle lit up on top of the new bar table, on top of it lied a plate with a medium rare cooked stake sided with homemade mash potatoes and some sauteed vegetables, next to it a glass of wine and silverware, along with a note that read:

“You failed to attend to dinner, saved you a plate. Enjoy”

He reluctantly took a bite, but after realizing that if it were spiked with anything he would’ve already died, given that drugs in hell had a fast effect when it comes to assassination, he enjoyed every last bit of it, making small moan sounds as he did. He also complimented the selection of the wine. You enjoyed the praises as you saw him eat.

As soon as he made his way back to his room, you took the plate and various items to give them a wash. The next day, Husk earned a kiss on the cheek without knowing what he did to deserve it.

It gave you a warm feeling in your chest when the guests liked your food, even more so when they expected anxiously what would it be for the next day, as you never really published the menu for the week, only the princess knew.

Given Angel’s constant praise, you started leaving protein shakes in his night stand before he woke up, always with a ‘Drink me for strength’ note, same with Vaggie when she started working out in the mornings. Charlie took your gesture and assured that she made them out of concern, which was well received by the rest, but not so much from her towards you.

“What did we talk about laying low?” she turned a bit demonic as she whispered harshly, “If you want to starve yourself to death, be my guest, but you made me the chef of the Hotel since day one, and no one inside this walls will die of malnourishment if I can help it” you well knew of the nasty habit the princess had towards food, by sometimes (often) forgetting to eat, or drive herself to an extent of stress, that she just dismissed breakfast or launch, even both on some occasions.

“Fine. On another subject, my dad will start living here, permanently. He’s Celiac, just so you know” Gluten allergy, that caught you off guard. You made a mental note to replace flours, rice and pastas into a non-glutinous option, same as your pastries for tea time from now on.

“About time you made peace with him” she shot you a warning look but didn’t correct you, “Yeah well, I’m happy about it, it took too long” for a while she felt that it was her fault for her parent’s split, as any child of divorce would begin to feel in the first period of the breakup. That feeling diminished, but hasn’t left her system entirely, no mater how much her girlfriend reassures her of the contrary.

“Arrange his room please, I left a few things lying around, but I have a session, so, can you handle it?” you nodded, satisfied with your answer, or rather lack thereof, she turned into her cheery self. “He left to pack up a few things from the castle, he’ll be back in a few hours, please don’t let him see you” with that last bit, she left the kitchen.

The king’s room wasn’t messy, Nifty wouldn’t allow it, so there were just a few items to place around, and a massive bed to put together, piece by piece no less. It was a Belphegor’s elite brand bed, no less, it had an insane amount of screws and parts, for someone known as the queen of Sloth, it took a serious amount of effort to put up with her products.

Took you two hours to set the whole thing up. Why did it take so long to put together a bed? because when you had it perfect, you noticed that you had three leftover screws, you weren't supposed to have leftover screws, so you disassembled it piece by piece until you found a place for the damn screws. The instructions were worse written than a menu in a Cantonese restaurant when the owner is obviously not Cantonese and wrote up the whole thing in google translate.

You took a big breath, satisfied with your work only when you put on the last blanket over the foot of the bed. “Weight blanket” you muttered with the fabric in between your fingers. Right in between the bedspread and the sheet there was a fairly heavy blanket, it lead to something obvious, two, either anxiety, or the king was missing his wife to the point he needed a weighted hug over him.

Your ears caught the sound of wings, he would arrive in no time.

You only had a millisecond to think, either run to the door and risk being seen, or put on the veil, jump out the window, but you were at penthouse level, that would probably leave you quadriplegic, on the other hand you transferred your tunnel system between the walls from the old hotel to the new one, you would just have to push the fake tile behind the bathroom door.

You ran out of time.

Still in your place, like a statue, you put the veil carefully over your body, this time without your eyes being able to be seen through.

The fallen angel dropped one single portfolio, the same blowing up into a swarm, no, a tsunami of rubber ducks, pieces of clothing, all ending up scattered all over the room, giving you an opportunity to make your way behind the bathroom door.

“Oh Charlie put together my bed? That ought to be a lot of work” he ended the sentence with a singsong tone before jumping onto the mattress. ‘That’s a shit ton of baloney, I bust my ass and the little devil gets credit for it? Fucking fantastic’ you mentally growled.

“Lily, if you could see her, she looks more like you every day” his voice cracked, “I wish…I wished I knew how to help. What could I possibly offer her? Advice? Experience? On what?! falling, being a constant disappointment? She did more things than you and I did in ten thousand years”

“I feel so useless” peeking over the door you saw the tiny king, wrapping himself in his six enormous wings. ‘Majestic’ you thought, after seeing millions of demons since you died, it was the first time you saw someone so beautiful. It made sense, he was indeed the prettiest angel God ever created, the best singer too.

How can someone like that, ethereal, could be troubled by things so…earth bound?

In an instant, he jumped out of bed, brushed up his hair a little, then walked out the door with the most fake smile you had ever seen. Boy you knew about fake smiles.

Later in the afternoon, around tea time, you changed up your regular flour for almond, it was definitely a different experience in terms of texture, but in terms of flavor, it could pass for regular flour, no one was going to notice.

Three types of cupcakes: Salted caramel, red velvet with vanilla stuffing, and cookie dough cupcakes shaped as ducky ones.

Alastor wasn’t a fan of sweets, so a mildly coffee infused cake with a caramel dressing with coarse salt on top, did the trick amazingly. Paired with a nice cup of Orange Pekoe tea to send him down memory lane. When you picked his plate up, there wasn’t a single crumb left.

The rest of the Hotel fancied your pastries, and loved sweets. Red velvet was a well-received classic, but it consisted of a vanilla flavored cake, and pair it with a filling of the same flavor might over do it. Instead, you added orange juice to the mix, the citrus smell with the sweet vanilla swirl on top were the sensation in the redemption session.

The only questionable thing about the mix was the berry tea that Charlie liked to drink during her sessions.

You baked small batches of cookie dough balls only a quarter of time, then poured the gluten free vanilla cupcake batter on top of it, keeping the cookie cooking at the bottom while you prepared the chocolate icing. When still warm you used a duck shaped scraper for the cake to take shape, then use the icing to make spikes, horns and little faces on them when it had cooled down a bit.

Why were you making special things for him? Pity? Empathy? Maybe both, but you were far too busy remembering the steps to the king’s room to bother.

All the ducks seemed organized, it definitely was the same mess, but perhaps there was some sense in his insanity. The plate was placed carefully in his night stand, along with a saucer and the tea cup filled with chamomile tea.

“Stop, freeze right there” you were about to place the hand written card when the distorted voice of the king froze your nerves in place, good thing that you were wearing the veil.

“Riddle me this, I’m connected to your every step, but I’m not your shoe. What am I?” he was near but stayed right in your blind spot, as he walked towards you. “Answer” his voiced sent chills down your spine, made your teeth sharpen as well as your claws, and your ears perk up defensively.

“You’re a shadow” your answer brought in him a subtle laugh, “Even through that shield of yours, dear, you cast a shadow, I saw a glimpse of it make it’s escape through the bathroom” was it that simple? Did anyone else in the Hotel had been as perceptive as him, no they would’ve ask Charlie or Alastor about it.

“So? How long have you been lurking in the Hotel?” walking past you, he brought up the tea cup to his lips, making a grimace, “Drink it, you look either sick, or worse, anemic, you’re three tones paler than your daughter” he shrugged, apparently aware of his state.

“I believe I asked you a question” his eyes shifted colors, just like Charlie’s, “None of your beeswax” you couldn’t tell him even if you wanted to, “I’m your King” the little heavy step he did was hilarious, but laughing would’ve get you killed.

“So what?” he widened his eyes at your boldness, dismissing it entirely after a laugh, “Mm, how about you answer my question and then I might consider letting you go?” his boot was on the edge on the veil, one move and he would see you, “How about you stop being a bull on me and enjoy my cookin’?” he took a moment to actually see the cupcakes, a tender smile drawn on his face.

When he looked back at where you where, all he saw was the veil falling gracefully to the ground, likewise it dissolved into the air.

“I fucked up” your heart throbbed painfully in your ear; the rush was real.

Your room was underneath the Hotel, a system of catacombs led to different fates to those stupid enough to enter, only you and the princess knew of the correct way. The space wide consisted of black brick walls, a twin size bed placed on the corner, a wooden wardrobe, the rustic eighteen hundreds themed bathroom, and a set of seven iron candle holders screwed to the wall.

“Good afternoon Hell!” Alastor’s voice became present through the radio you kept on your night stand, “I’m in a jolly mood on this occasion, a well baked pastry would put a smile on anyone, even in the crankiest demon in hell” he laughed, then continued on topics from a simpler time, then the screams of his new victim.

You rested your tachycardia on your bed, focusing on your breathing and Alastor’s voice, to make your heart slow down to a normal pace.

“Thank you for listening, it was a pleasure to entertain you. Now, a small request from a friend in between the walls, I hope you enjoy this one, dear” he placed the dusted vinyl on the player, allowing it to roll one of your most liked songs, Cuban Moon by Carl Fenton’s Orchestra.

Slang, jazz, the demoness that haunted Alastor’s brain was definitely from his timeline, probably the same state he lived in. But what really itched his brain, was the axe. “It’s an unorthodox method to kill someone, the blade loses its edge quickly and it would require a brutal force to cut through bones…unless” he pondered over an open binder with pieces of old newspaper that fell with him, parts of the news were about him, but the front page was about someone else.

The next day, Lucifer walked fast down the stairs, grabbed Charlie by her shoulders and demanded, “Who is she? The demon living in the walls?”.

Your note for Lucifer read the following: "Someone who swore to love you through sickness and health, and still left, is not worth your tears."

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Baloney: same as nonsense or bullshit

None of your beeswax: Slang for 'none of your business'

Bull: Slang for police-man

Stay tuned ;3 Part 3

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lolyfortherisk · 27 days

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Love in the dark

Eddie Horniman x reader

Epilogue

You looked around bored out of your mind. You got dragged to yet another fancy party that one of your husband's associates threw to show off.

All the rich assholes are the same to you really. All of them are trying to prove that they have the perfect wife, perfect home, perfect family image and of course the most successful business. They just know how to get what they want from everyone. One way or another.

You thought your husband is different (oh how foolish you were) being the duke of halsted you thought he was an honorable man. Well he isn't, safe to say that you will regret marrying him for the rest of your life.

You saw him coming your way and immediately, you frowned.

"there you are darling" he said with the fake smile that you know all too well, he wears it in public so people think that you are the perfect loving couple but you see through him now.

You nodded returning his fake smile with one of yours, that you practiced all too well "husband" you said dryly.

He raised his hand "care to join me for this dance, my dear?" His eyes glinting with silent warning that says 'don't you dare humiliate me'

You smiled taking his hand "with pleasure" he led you to the dance floor, raised his hand to your waist, you raised yours to his shoulder and you started dancing softly to the music.

Then you whispered annoyed "are you done with what you wanted from this circus? It's getting late and i promised Zayn to read him his bedtime story"

He glared at you through his smile that never wavered " i wondered why you Didn't start whining about going home yet there you are, you never disappoint wife , really "

You glared back at him looking at him with hatred then said "i won't neglect my son to act as your obedient pet, you should actually be grateful to him as he is the only reason i am still with you"

He laughed. actually laughed ticking his head back "i am grateful to have such a beautiful son AND a perfect woman to call her my wife. As for being with me. You ARE with me cause i still want you to be. And that my dear won't change even if you wanted it to." he said. Of course he will try and miss with your head.

You laughed bitterly then said "yeah i nearly forgot that i am the side piece till your long lost love comes back. I mean if she ever does"

You glared at each other then he broke the intense eye contact annoyed "you won't drop it, will you?" Then he sighed "alright let's head home i am done with this fucking night anyway"

You immediately stepped back and headed to where you were seated to gather your things whispering softly "yeah i won't drop it, I can't"

your husband's eyes softened hearing you say that. He hates himself everyday a little bit more for what he is doing to you, but it's not his fault that someone else has already took his heart away.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

First thing to write and actually publish. I would be so glad if you tell me what you think❤️

And don't forget i am still starting so a reblog would be much appreciated ❤️

#eddie horniman #theo james #the gentlemen #fanfic #series #love in the dark #enemies to lovers #marriage

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1dmonthlyficroundup · 6 months

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— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for November 2023! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ Ghosted by @haztobegood [NR, 666 words, Louis/Harry]

Harry had dragged his feet when his mate Liam invited him for drinks at Horan’s Pub. He’d wanted to spend his Friday night under fuzzy blankets with a good book and hot cocoa. Besides, he’d protested, they already planned to go out the following week for Halloween. While initially reluctant, Harry’s glad he came. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have met Louis.

＊ Crush by @allwaswell16 [T, 1k, Louis/Niall]

When Niall stops smiling around the office, his co-worker Louis sets out to lift his mood with the help of their office mates.

＊ if i'm being honest by @disgruntledkittenface [E, 22k, Niall/Harry]

Niall is perfectly happy in her dating life, always finding a reason to break things off before her relationships get serious. When she finally gets a chance with Harry, her dream girl, their friend Louis makes her promise to give her a real chance. The only problem is that Harry has a cat… and Niall is not a cat person. Instead of running like she usually does, Niall has to figure out how to live with an adorable menace. And when it starts to feel like love, Niall has to decide: Is she ready for the real thing?

Inspired by Must Be Love.

＊ Milk my mind and make me cream by LovelikeLou / @purrrhazza [NR, 6k, Harry/Louis]

Brooklyn Baby AU: Louis and Harry are both early 70s bohemians who live in Brooklyn, New York. Louis is a sweet and gentle beatnik who wears flamboyant clothes and reads his poetry at underground speakeasies. Harry sings and plays in a punk rock Sex Pistols-esque band, wears leather and hates authority figures. The two are hopelessly in love with each other.

＊ Tuca Tuca (ILikeYouILikeYouILikeYou) by @persephoneflouwers [E, 4k, Louis/Harry]

The San Francisco getaway AU, where Harry is needy and Louis has a flight to LA in a few hours.

＊ Words Weren't Enough by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa [T, 2k, Harry/Louis]

Louis wandered into the living room, just watching Harry play for a bit.

It made Louis’ heart crack a little, seeing him like that; hunched over the keys, the muscles on his back tense. But it was a quiet sniffle that Louis finally jerked into action, carefully approaching the slumped figure on the piano bench.

“Hey, darling.”

OR Louis finds Harry practicing the piano piece for his last show late at night, and there are some tears, memories and playing the piano together involved

＊ Because Sparrows Mate For Life by magpielivingforglitter / @builtyouahousefromabrokenhome [E, 24k, Louis/Harry]

During his brief awkward small talk phase, the previous tattoo artist had asked about why Harry was getting “a bird tattoo”, too, though without specifying the species. And Harry had started to explain it, but then he’d felt like his reasons were too private and intimate to share with that guy, and most of it didn’t apply anymore, anyway, since the birds were going to be swallows now. So he’d just stammered something incoherent, and then tried to save it by adding that basically he thought they looked cool.

Now, Harry felt like Louis was genuinely interested, and wanted to know so that he’d be able to make the tattoo the way Harry liked it. And beyond that, Harry had a feeling that he could tell Louis anything, and Louis would take him seriously.

So he told Louis all about his reasons. Louis listened intently, and chuckled at the Dark Half references.

Harry even told him about the ‘mating for life’ part.

Louis smiled softly. “I respect that”, he said. “I’m a bit of a romantic, myself.”

For some reason, that made Harry blush.

(Harry’s tattoo gets done all wrong, and he needs someone to fix it.)

＊ must be love by @nouies [NR, 6k, Louis/Andrew Garfield]

AU where Louis doesn’t know how to approach his neighbour, and Andrew keeps receiving homegrown vegetables at his door.

＊ Feeling Feline by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13 [T, 4k, Niall/Louis]

“I’m telling you,” drifts through the cracked door, and Louis’ ears prick, twitching with interest. “There’s something wrong with that cat.”

“Have you talked to Liam?” asks another voice, worried. Louis thinks it’s the tall one with curly hair. Taller one. They’re all tall when you’re ten inches high.

“Not medically wrong,” the blond one says. “But I swear, and I know this sounds nuts, but I don’t think he’s a cat?”

＊ Fine Line by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13 [G, 1k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw]

Telling his family was always going to be a big deal, but doing it alone was a sacrifice he could make.

He never thought they’d fall about laughing.

＊ In The Dark by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13 [T, 666 words, no pairing]

It’s the dreams.

He’d be fine without the dreams… suggesting things. If he could face all this - whatever this is - with a clear, rested mind.

＊ lonely in [paris] by f_ckromeoandjuliet / @louiesonlyangel [T, 5k, Awsten Knight]

Summer flings are complicated and healing comes from the strangest places. // Alternate version of Louis's tour where he's in a secret relationship with Awsten Knight from Waterparks. Based on Awsten tweeting at Louis.

＊ Got My Chaos Automatic by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 [E, 3k, Zayn/Louis/Liam]

Louis shrugs his shoulders as nonchalantly as he can manage in his aroused state. “Let you stay in my house didn’t I?” He narrows his eyes at the spliff still between Liam’s fingers. “Let you smoke my weed. Seems like a fair trade to me.”

Liam raises a brow challengingly. His expression is mostly unimpressed, but even from the other side of the room, Louis can still see the glint in Liam’s eyes.

He likes it when Louis makes him work for it too.

Zayn chuckles darkly. “Looks like someone came home with an attitude. What’s wrong Lou? No one on the road with you that could put you in your place hmm?”

(Or the one where Louis comes home from tour feeling exhausted, yet antsy. Luckily, Liam and Zayn are there to put him back together).

＊ part time soulmates (full time problem) by localopa / @voulezloux [M, 12k, Louis/Harry]

sworn enemies harry and louis are soulmates. everything is going smoothly until the pain hits.

＊ it's the summer of our love by localopa / @voulezloux [G, 3k, Louis/Ryan Ross]

ryan is in love with his best friend and gym bro, louis. the problem? ryan is straight.

＊ if it feels like love (then it must be love) by localopa / @voulezloux [G, 2k, Niall/Shawn Mendes]

niall and shawn are in love. if they could both realize this, that would be lovely.

＊ I See You by @neondiamond [NR, 666 words, Harry/Louis]

An unfamiliar voice disturbs Harry during his bath.

＊ Lucky (In Love) by @neondiamond [G, 3k, Louis/Harry]

When Louis first volunteered to drop off his nephew Lucky at nursery to help out his nervous sister, he was not expecting the owner to be the most gorgeous man in all of London. He makes sure he’ll get to see him again.

＊ softer than satin by cinnamons / @sunbellylou [E, 4k, Louis/Joel (The Last of Us)]

“Wanna go back to bed,” Louis whispered languidly, voice partly muffled by his boyfriend’s lips on his. “Mm, but we just got up, baby,” Joel murmured. Lips touching softly with each syllable. Hands groping the soft flesh around Louis’ hips, kneading at the skin there and feeling his curves.

＊ in the hope of open hands (series) by @justanothershadeofblue [T, 21k, OT5]

Five times the pack is protective of omega Harry, and one time Harry protects them. Featuring Louis and Liam as alphas, Zayn and Niall as betas, and Harry’s as the band's lone omega. A year and some change in which they’re all falling for each other and not quite getting their shit together (until they do, of course).

＊ Simmer Down and Pucker Up by @silverstuff50 [E, 9k, Louis/Harry]

When Louis' sister invites his ex to her wedding Louis is not a happy bunny. But his friends are wankers and their meddling causes the sort of drama that Louis would usually beat the crap out of them for.

Usually...

＊ Just Hold On by @silverstuff50 [M, 3k, Harry/Louis]

“Harry, I’m fine.” Louis says soothingly. “I know I’m safe because you and Joni are there. As long as I can feel you holding me I know I’ll be ok.”

Harry flushes again and can’t stop himself thinking about his hands on Louis' warm skin. He shakes his head stubbornly, half to protest and half to clear his head of the thought.

“It’s just not safe. You’re surrounded by people grabbing and pulling at you.” He looks Louis up and down appraisingly. “And you’re so-“ he stops himself when Joni shoots him a warning look.

“If the next word you say is “small” I will fire you.” Louis says with narrowed eyes. Harry's shoulders slump.

“I wasn’t going to say small.” He was going to say small. “I was going to say, um, reckless.”

＊ she bit someone by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus [M, 666 words, Louis/Harry]

Having a little vampire for a daughter is hard enough, but on that one night a year where the air feels darker and human children are trying to ring the bell for candy, it becomes even more difficult.

＊ Hit me baby one more time by @louisthiccsexyglitteryass [E, 12k, Harry/Louis]

Louis is a boxer, and hates one of the members of his club, Harry Styles. Life has a funny way of showing Louis that maybe he doesn't hate Harry as much as he thought, or that Louis maybe finds Harry hot.

#28th appreciation #trackinghappily #trackinghome #ficsfor4am #tracksintheam #1dsource #hltracks #hljournal #hlcreators

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groenendaelfic · 1 month

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I have quite literally not stopped thinking about the basket baby snippet since you posted it! I'm happy to wait but can I be cheeky and ask for any more tidbits, how ever tiny, about the basket baby fic? Like baby name reveal, another snippet, chapter 2 outline...anything at all please I will give you my first born child! (I am amypond on ao3 btw - happy for you to publish this ask)

ah basket baby! Thank you for not forgetting, and of course you can always ask. I love basket baby. One day it will even be born. Why oh why can't I write fic full time, I would be so much more productive and efficient 😅

For a few very foolish seconds Simon considers naming the baby Wilhelm.

He loves Wilhelm and he misses him, can't imagine what he must have been going through this past year, alone safe for the very much not amused Royal Court, no doubt at some estate hidden away in the countryside, not even allowed the familiarity of his own rooms.

He also hates Wilhelm. For not finding a way to tell him, to have them be together, because surely, surely it can't be that impossible, can it?

Except of course it can. Simon's mom was accosted by Royal Court lawyers at work, and that was them being nice. It is exactly that impossible.

Tears spring to his eyes. He can't name the baby Wilhelm. It'd hurt to much. It'll hurt anyway, holding the baby in his arms, knowing it's the only part of Wilhelm he'll ever get to hold again.

He already loves the child more than his own life, and the more he looks at the tiny, scrunched up face getting ready to cry, the more he can see Wilhelm reflected in it.

He shifts his grip, pulls the baby closer and hums a melody he hopes is soothing. He can't name the baby Wilhelm. The baby is not Wilhelm, and it deserves better, deserves its own name. One which isn't a constant reminder of its unreachable parent.

Not that he'd be allowed. No matter how popular the name Wilhelm in all its forms has remained in Sweden ever since Wilhelm was born. The Royal Court would not allow it, and Simon can't risk angering them before the baby isn't officially his and he has the paperwork to prove it.

So not Wilhelm then, he thinks, as the baby bursts into tears. Simon would give anything to be able to cry along, to crumble and break, but he's a father now and his child comes first, even if he has no clue what to do.

He just put on a fresh diaper with the patient help of his mom and it can't be time for another bottle.

"He can sense that you're upset," his mom explains when he asks, and oh doesn't that suck.

He doesn't put the baby back in its basket however, nor does he hand it to his mom. Instead he cuddles it closer and starts humming again.

His precious, precious child. His and Wilhelm's.

A tear rolls down his face. He's hurt and angry and scared, hating the Royal Court and the world and everything for being so absolutely, thoroughly unfair.

Everything except his baby, who is innocent and beautiful and perfect.

It didn't ask to be born, and certainly not into a family like this, to a legacy like this. The monarchy is not its only legacy however, and suddenly Simon knows what he's going to call it.

Not a Swedish name. Nothing to tie it to the long line of ancestors who want nothing to do with it. Not Carl or Magnus or Gustav. Not Erik either, or at least not as a first name.

Something Spanish. Something to ensure his child will never consider itself an unwanted royal bastard too embarrassing to be acknowledged.

Something powerful. A reminder that he is also part Venezuelan, and that that is something to be proud of.

Yes. He'll name the baby after his maternal grandmother. There is no person living or dead he can think of who is stronger or more determined in the face of hardship than his abuela.

It will make her happy, it will make him happy, and if royals can do it, then he can do it, too. Only better and with less toxicity, less historical baggage to weigh it down.

He'll make sure no one will ever compare his precious baby boy to anyone. Will ensure he'll get to pave his own path however he wants. He loves his child, his and Wilhelm's, and whatever he can do to keep it safe he will.

"Alejandro," he tells his mother, and because he can't ignore Wilhelm's one single request adds, "Alejandro Erik Eriksson."

For a moment he considers using the Spanish version for Erik as well, if only out of spite, but that wouldn't be fair to Wilhelm. That, and it would remind him too much of his mom's favorite singer.

His mother bites her lip and nods.

It's the right choice. The only choice, and Simon can only hope little Alejandro will think so, too.

#basket baby #ask me anything #young royals #wilmon #fic snippet #young royals fic

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inthemaelstrom · 28 days

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The Problem of Intent

I think it might be time to publish this again, from my old Dowsing blog.

The Problem of Intent

I woke up this morning thinking about the word “intent,” as I have been off and on for some time. My ruminations finally solidified yesterday after watching an episode of Red Table Talk on Facebook (another reason I haven’t been back here in a while—Facebook, not Red Table Talk). It’s a good episode with Chelsea Handler talking with Jada Pinkett Smith and Adrienne Banfield-Jones about white privilege and parts of it are really painful to watch, mostly the bits from Handler’s documentary, in which she interviews white women, mostly poor and conservative, about whether they think white privilege exists (they don’t). Handler’s own previous dumbassery on the subject is also pretty painful, but she’s getting it right now, and that’s what matters most.

But there’s a point in the video where she tells a story on herself, illustrating her former dumbassery and the person who calls her out said, “It’s not about the intention, it’s about the reception.” A little further on, Handler acknowledges that white people don’t want to learn because it’s uncomfortable to learn not to be an asshole or a bigot to other people, “you gotta go head first into deep things and get in trouble and say stupid things to learn how to say smarter things.” All of which is true. Not just say smarter things, but know smarter things, I would add. The process of learning to be a good ally to people who don’t have your privilege is hard and embarrassing and upsetting. It’s heartbreaking and guilt-making to realize you’ve been walking through the world hurting people (if you’re not a Rethuglican who enjoys that kind of thing; but I digress).

And then Jada Pinkett Smith says that key thing that I’ve been thinking about for ages now: “I think we gotta make some room for people to say stupid stuff sometimes,” because racism has been going on for so long that most of it is unconscious now. People don’t realize they’re being racist unless it’s pointed out to them (and that’s where other white people need to get off their asses; it’s not Black people’s job to do that). She continues, “Not every—you know, not every action is racist.” So while it may feel racist to the object of the action, it may not to the actor and it may not have that intent behind it.

This is why intent matters—also. Not by itself, but in addition to reception. Because if we are doing our damnedest to be a good friend and generous person, to do the right thing, to not be racist, sexist, bigoted, insensitive, ableist, oblivious to the experiences of others, and we fuck up along the way as we inevitably will, a little compassion helps fuel the struggle for everyone. There’s a mental health element to this too, and Handler prefaces her part of the discussion with what seems at first like her irrelevant experiences in therapy to make this point. She spends a long time talking about her own struggles with pain and anger and how realizing that her anger was the result of the pain she was in was the thing that broke her open, finally, and got some real work done. When we’re operating primarily on a foundation of pain (and here I walked away to go make my bed, because, yanno, pain), then the world becomes our enemy. Everyone becomes our enemy. Everyone is out to hurt us, to insult us, to fuck with us, plotting against us to make us miserable, being mean to us. Everything everyone says or does to us that hurts us (and when we’re already in pain, this doesn’t generally take a lot) is intentional. Because people are bad and mean and hurtful and fuck all ya’ll anyway. I hate people.

And that’s clearly bullshit. It feels right when we’re hurting, and damn if there aren’t days when I get up in the morning and look at the news and thinkWhat the ever loving fuck is wrong with you people?about nearly everyone in the world after seeing all the hurt we do each other. But to think the whole world is your enemy, that every person you meet, every friend you make, will ultimately betray and hurt you creates a huge number of problems and solves nothing. First, believing we are somehow important enough for all the individuals in our lives (never mind the rest of the world) to spend their time machinating about how to hurt us is one of the best examples of narcissism I can think of, and utterly delusional. That’s like gaslighting yourself. It’s also an example of flawed perceptions and expectations. It’s our expectations of others, ultimately, that wound us: expecting perfection, expecting an intimate and automatic understanding of our POV, expecting unearned unconditional love, expecting all the attention. Love people as you find them, and if they, in their own pain and rage, hurt you, love them from a distance.

Worse than this, though, is that anticipating injury from other people assures that this is all we’ll ever get from them. Ever. Because everything they do will be an injury to us if we fail to see their intent and their focus. One of the last times my mom came to visit me here in New York, we were walking along the street and she said, in what was clearly a revelatory moment for her, “wow, people are really so focused on themselves that they don’t really pay attention to anyone else.” This was coming from a woman who agonized over what other people might think of her if she went out without looking perfectly dressed, perfectly coiffed, perfectly dignified, who was painfully self-conscious about how her disability made her look. I wish she had had more time to enjoy the liberation of that revelation. Because she was right about that. People are all dealing with their own pain, their own stuff, their own troubles, and hurting or judging you is not a high priority on their to-do list.

Unless they are so wrapped up in their own pain that they are going to lash out first, and there are some people who are that hurt, that broken. It’s good to remember that it’s still really not about you in those circumstance; if they are hurting and judging you, what they see in you that they hate is almost always what they hate or feel insecure about themselves. Those folks have a lot of work to do that you can’t do for them; all you can do is wish them well and get out of range. Because in their pain, they create more of it. This is what intentional, unexamined and institutional racism and sexism does to people. It creates a cycle of pain that needs work to be broken.

Again, this is why intent matters. If I’m hurting you out of maliciousness that’s one thing; I need a slap upside the head and a boot in the rear. If I’m hurting you out of my own pain, that’s more understandable but still not excusable; I’ve got some work to do on myself, then, and owe you an apology and an effort to do better. But if I’m hurting you by accident, because I’m learning to do better and still making mistakes, cut me a break please. Work with me. Call me out, by all means. I can’t learn if I don’t know I’ve screwed up. If it’s really egregious, don’t spare your anger. I can’t rightly ask you to do that and I probably deserve it. But don’t use my mistake to make judgments about what kind of person I am at the core, because then you’re doing the same thing that bigots do. If you think I’m the kind of person who would intentionally hurt others, then we already have a problem of perception and reception on your end. And that’s bad intent.

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canirove · 2 months

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In The Name of Love | Chapter 31

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"Keys, wallet, water bottle, notebook, pens, tissues… I think I have it all."

"Are you sure?" Silvia says.

"I… Shit" I say when I see her holding my phone.

"I've never seen you this nervous on a first day before. Not even on your very first day."

"Yeah, well… Back then I wasn't dating someone famous and the whole world knew about it" I sigh. Because now everyone knows.

A few days after the photos in Tenerife were published, someone started to share details about me, sending them to magazines and fan accounts. People now knew my full name, what I had studied and where, what I did for a living, some of my hobbies… And, of course, my age. That had made things escalate quickly, the word cougar being thrown right and left. Though the comments that were hurting me the most, were the ones saying that I should not be teaching kids when I am dating someone so young.

"You aren't doing anything wrong, Val" Silvia says, taking my hand on hers.

"I know, but… I already got some weird looks from other teachers the other day. And I know that the moment the parents see me, they'll start gossiping."

"Then let them. You've been dating Pedri for three years already while teaching their kids, and they all have loved you and said you are amazing. Now because they know who you sleep with you suddenly are a bad teacher? C'mon…"

"People are like that, Silvia…"

"Stupid, that's what they are."

"A bit, yeah" I chuckle. "Anyway, I better go."

"Good luck, Val" she smiles.

"Thank you" I reply, walking towards the door. "Holy mother of Jesus!" I yell when I open it.

"Morning, gorgeous" Pedri smiles.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm driving you to work."

"What?"

"I wanted to be there on your first day."

"Did you know about this?" I say, turning to look at Silvia.

"I… Maybe?" she replies. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"Oh, you have definitely surprised me. And given me a heart attack too."

"You opened when I was about to ring. But will this make you feel better?" he says, showing me the bouquet of flowers he was hiding behind his back.

"It's a start…"

"I can do other things to make you feel better, but we don't want to be late" Pedri smirks.

"Idiot" I reply, rolling my eyes.

"Should we go, then?" he says.

"Yeah, let's go."

"And Val…" Silvia says. "Haters gonna hate."

"Did you just quote Taylor Swift?" I laugh.

"She's right, so" she shrugs.

"Maybe we should listen to that song in the car" Pedri offers.

"No."

"Ok, ok. You are kinda scary when you use that tone" he laughs. "Bye, Silvia."

"Bye, guys!"

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"It's time" I sigh, picking up my bag and the flowers.

"Everything will be ok, Val."

"It will, yes" I say, trying to convince myself.

"Have I ever told you how proud I am of you?" Pedri says, caressing my cheek.

"I'm not sure…"

"Well, I am doing it now. I am so proud of you, Val. What you teachers do is amazing and people should show you more respect."

"Aww, Pepi."

"It's the truth" he shrugs. "Now go there and show those kids how good you are."

"That sounds like what Xavi tells you before a game" I chuckle.

"It does, doesn't it?" he laughs. "But, again, it is the truth. You are amazing, Val."

"And you are gonna make me cry" I say, hitting his arm.

"Sorry" he smiles. "I love you."

"I love you too."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Val! Good morning!"

"Good morning, Beth" I smile.

"The flowers arrived earlier today, uh?" she says, nodding towards the bouquet in my hands.

"And that was him, wasn't it?" Luis says. "He has a really nice car."

"Did he drive you to work?"

"He did, yes. He wanted to be with me on my first day" I say with a shy smile.

"That is so cute."

"I always drive you to work" Luis says.

"Yeah, but because we live together" Beth replies, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, let's go. We can't be late on our first day, can we?"

"We cannot, no" Luis sighs.

As we walk towards the school, many parents turn to look at us. I can see them whispering, nodding, and even pointing towards me. The moment we walk past them they say good morning with their best smile, but then the whispers are back.

"He probably bought her those flowers."

"And she's brought them so we all can see them."

"Her bag looks new. And expensive. I'm sure he bought it for her."

"Watch her start dressing like the other wags. No more Zara for Miss Valeria."

"She should be ashamed of herself. Dating someone so young…"

"Val, hey. Valeria" Beth says, linking her arm with mine. "Ignore them. They are just bored and jealous."

"Exactly. We know you and support you" Luis says to my other side.

"Thank you" I reply, trying to smile and focus on them, on my friends. Though it won't be easy…

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

How did it go?

Ok? What does it mean?

It means that it was ok

Val, what happened?

Nothing The kids are great One of them was wearing your shirt and came to show me with the biggest smile And then he asked me if I could get him your autograph

Cheeky 😂

What did you tell him?

That I would depending on how well he behaved and his grades Same to everyone else

Great motivation 😅

But if it was ok, why are you… off?

I'm not off

Val, I can feel it and we are just texting while being kilometres away

What happened?

Nothing

Val… what did we promise each other?

No more secrets

Ok, fine It was the parents They kept whispering and gossiping as I walked past them It was very uncomfortable, they were making me feel as if I had done something bad

But you haven't

I know, but… It doesn't matter

Val…

It doesn't It was just the first day, the novelty In a few days they will have moved on into something else Like a parent having a fling with another or whatever

Val, are you sure you are ok?

Do you want to facetime?

I'm fine, Pedri I'm going to bed already, I'm shattered And so should you, you have a game tomorrow

If I don't sleep well and play badly we'll probably lose.

Yes, but I don't want you to lose because you were shit I want you to lose because the others suck

Always so thoughtful 😂

😇😇

But Val…

What now 🙄

I love you 🤍

I love you too 🤍

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I can't fucking believe it."

"What happened?" Silvia asks me.

"Isabel, I mean, “the mole”, just shared more photos" I sigh.

"What? How? I thought you had deactivated all your accounts."

"I did. But she must have download the photos or something."

"That is so fucked up, Val… Has the people Barça hired said something?"

"That whoever this person is, they are uploading and sending the photos using public WiFi signals and fake emails. That they know what they are doing."

"And do you really think Isabel is capable of doing all that?"

"She hates me, Silvia. She's capable of that and more."

"Yeah, but… The teenagers are nuts" she says. "They could have hacked someone's account or something and be the ones doing this."

"It has been Isabel since the beginning. What has been shared about me are things only someone who actually knows me and has done it for years can know, and she had access to all my photos through Marc's accounts. It is her."

"What are you going to do? Because this can't keep going on, and if they aren't able to catch her…"

"I don't know" I sigh. "And that must be my car" I say when my phone pings.

"Val, maybe you shouldn't go to today's game."

"I have to, Silvia. They are playing against Manchester United, Ferran is back, and he's gonna introduce us to his girlfriend. I can't miss it."

"But Val…"

"I have to go" I say, getting up from the sofa and leaving before she can keep talking, taking deep breaths on the lift to calm myself down. Which is what I've been doing the most these past couple of months. Take deep breaths, and cry.

At the school things have calmed down. After just a week, what I had told Pedri would happen became a reality and they moved on into a new piece of gossip, though I still get some disapproving looks. Online, it is a different story.

Most fans are ok with me dating Pedri or don't care. The only thing that matters to them is if he is happy or not, and they can see that he is. But there are others who don't share that sentiment and who are ruthless, constantly overanalyzing every photo of us or just me alone that they find, calling me the most awful and mean nicknames they can think of.

A couple of weeks ago, someone started to send them photos of Pedri and I together or from when I was at uni and in high school, private photos I had on Instagram and Facebook and that only my friends and family were supposed to see. And, of course, the mean comments didn't slow down. They only got more and more disgusting.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Val, hi!" Ter Stegen's wife, Dani, says while waving at me.

"Hi" I smile.

"How are you? Ready for tonight's game?"

"Ready" I say, sitting down.

Before the season started I promised Pedri that I would watch him play with the other girlfriends and wives, that there will be no more getting tickets all around the stadium. And so far, I had managed to do it, Dani helping me to not feel so out of place. Though with the comments she and the others would get every time they would post a photo where you could see me, the only thing that helped was ignoring or blocking.

"It feels a bit weird to see Ferran on the other team, doesn't it?" Dani says.

"It does… ouch" I complain when something hits my head.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, yeah. I guess someone lost their bottle's lid" I say, looking up.

"At least it was just that and not water. Or worse, beer. I saw that happen in Germany to a friend of mine."

"Oh my God."

"Yep" she laughs.

"Cougar!" someone shouts behind us.

"What the fuck" Dani says, turning around.

"Ignore them."

"What? They are insulting you, Val."

"They just want attention. The best we can do is ignore them."

"But…"

"Please, Dani. Let's focus on the game."

"Ok, fine. We'll do as you say."

But the insults don't stop. The girls sitting a few rows behind us spend the first half of the game calling me names, making fun of me and throwing me popcorn.

"We should tell security, Val. This is not ok."

"And end up all over the internet like happened years ago? Hell no."

"But you would only be defending yourself from some bullies!"

"Dani, let it go."

"And if I go talk to them? Maybe they will listen to me."

"No, no, no. I don't want you getting involved."

"Val, you are my friend. I can't just sit and do nothing while two stupid teenagers keep insulting you."

"Dani, please" I beg her.

"Urgh, fine. You are looking at me the same way my kids do and I can't say no to that."

"Thank you" I say, trying to smile. And I say trying because a ball of paper just hit my head, the girls laughing like crazy.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Hello" Pedri smiles, walking towards me.

"Hi."

"Ready to meet Ferran and… Val, what happened?" he says, throwing his bag next to his car and cupping my face while giving me a concerned look.

"Nothing" I shrug.

"Val, you've been crying."

"No."

"Valeria…" he sighs.

"It's nothing."

"If it has made you cry, it definitely is something. Talk to me."

"But what about Ferran? He probably is waiting for us, the team must be leaving soon and…"

"Don't worry about him now. Tell me what happened."

"It's… it's nothing, really."

"Please, Val. I hate seeing you like this" Pedri says, the way he is looking at me breaking my heart.

"There were a couple of girls sitting behind us, and they…"

"They what?"

"They spent the whole game insulting me and throwing me popcorn."

"And didn't security do anything?"

"Dani wanted to call them, but I didn't let her."

"You didn't? Why?"

"Because I didn't want to make another scene, and those girls only wanted attention."

"They were bullying you, Val. And they made you cry. Because they are the reason why you were crying, weren't they?"

"Yes" I nod. "When the game ended we walked past them and they… they…"

"They what?"

"They were basically calling me a whore" I say, starting to cry again.

"See why you should have told security about them?" Pedri says, raising his voice.

"That would have only made things worse and you know it."

"What I know is that this can't keep happening, Val. It can't! I'm gonna speak with my team, the club and whoever is necessary and put an end to this."

"Pedri…"

"No! I'm not gonna allow my so called fans to keep bullying the woman I love. Enough is enough!" he says. I think I had never seen him this angry before.

"Please don't say anything. Please" I cry.

"What? Are you out of our mind, Val?"

"If you say something it will only get worse. And I… I won't be able to deal with that. Please let it go, Pedri. Please."

"Val…"

"Please" I beg him, hugging him as tightly as I can while crying on his shoulder. "Please."

"I… fine" he sighs. "But if it happens again, you will let me do something. We are done looking the other way, ok?"

"Ok" I say, still not letting go of him, feeling like he is the only thing keeping me from truly breaking apart.

#pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri fanfic #pedri gonzalez fanfic #pedri imagine #pedri gonzalez imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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bloodynereid · 1 year

Note

ohhh maybe like a karen and reader one where its like they were flirty best friends during the bands like time together and then they find eachother again after the band has already been split and lice happily ever after🥲

ok thats it for me lol

love your writing queen

Intertwined Heartbeats

pairing: karen sirko x fem! reader

a/n: hiii anon! first tysm and second hope you enjoy this little fic. karen sirko owns my heart and honestly i wish we saw more fics for her. this was fun to write in comparison with my previous karen fic (even if it's not as long) so yeah ty for ur request ly

tw: kissing, mentions of weed, mentions of drinking, some angst but mostly fluff, some flirty comments, cursing

description: falling for you best friend is not something you planned but you are all the better for it anyway.

Y/N: Being a band’s PR manager was hard. Especially when said band was Daisy Jones & The Six. Rod and I had a lot of work cut out for us.

Rod Reyes: I handled the tour and that was a piece of work but I cannot imagine what Y/N had to deal with. Well I can but it’s better not to think about it if you don’t want to get an aneurysm.

Daisy: Y/N fixed that stupid fucking article with Rolling Stone. I mean by the time it was published the entire thing had been changed but I didn’t know that. I only saw the first draft. So the damage was done and I still went to Greece.

Y/N: God that fiasco with Daisy, I can still remember it. Luckily Jonah was a good friend from university. If it wasn’t for that, that story would have run as it was written in the first draft.

Jonah: I didn’t change it that much. But I understood Y/N’s concerns so I took out bits from Billy’s description of Daisy. Not that famous line of, fuck how did it go, the I hate Daisy Jones line.

Y/N: Daisy was my friend. I had to take care of her and not just the band. Anyways, the reviewed draft of the article was much, much better in my opinion. *you let out a slight chuckle*

Karen: Y/N was always sticking out her neck for us. Whether that was because Billy got in the wrong fight when he was high or when Warren slept with the wrong girl. She was there from the beginning and we got close. She was my best friend. Through every twist and turn.

You let out a puff of smoke into the cool night air. Karen had invited you with a promise of weed to the rather high up roof of the hotel. Your usual fear of heights was thankfully dampened by the easy comfort of the rather strong weed.

“Where did you get this shit anyway?”

“Friend of a friend.”

“Wow, now you’re trying to pull all that mysterious and cryptic shit again.”

“Have to keep up the mystique somehow.” You snorted and took the blunt for her fingers before taking another hit. Letting the comforting silence wash over the two of you.

“I think I’m going to break up with Graham.” Karen’s sudden comment made you twist your head over so suddenly that a loud crack echoed into the night.

“Oh fuck me. Oww. Sorry about that but what?! I didn’t even know you two were dating.”

“I don’t know if we really are.”

“Well just so you know, I’m here for you for whatever you decide.”

Y/N: There were a lot of good nights like that. Karen and I were the closest in the group, even if I wasn’t actually a part of the band.

You sat backstage of one of the many concerts that had been going on for the past week. A glass of your customary Vodka Cranberry in your hand. The first week of the tour had just started and already there was a small amount of bad press starting to go around.

Tabloid journalists and photographers circled like ravenous vultures during each and every afterparty. But you know what they say: Any press is good press.

Right after the band finishes the set you are suddenly snapped out of your daydream by a blonde barreling towards you. A very familiar blonde who instantly envelops you in a hug.

“Wow hey there Karen, you’re going to make me spill my drink all over you.” You say as you quickly reciprocate the hug as best as you can whilst holding an already very slippery glass.

“Oh you love it.”

“Sure I do, honey. Set go well?”

“Went great! Still can’t believe we’re actually here.”

“Me neither, I’m suddenly getting a bucketload of calls from friends of friends that need PR done.”

“Well you better not be leaving us anytime soon.”

“Would never dream about it, sweetheart.” You stared at each other in slight awe. Mischief and something else you couldn’t really name was mirrored in Karen’s eyes as she smiled brightly at you. Suddenly you realized that you still had your arms slung around her waist and her fingers had taken to drawing little shapes on your arms.

“Hey! You guys coming to the afterparty?” Your little cocoon of warmth is suddenly interrupted by Warren’s voice from the other side of the room. You two quickly separate.

“Yeah probably.”

“Great, see you there.” Karen then connects your arms together and drags you through the back door, following the other members who were obviously going back to the buses to party.

“You know I do love it when you call me names, baby.” You ignored the butterflies that churned in your stomach as you scoffed and lightly hit Karen’s arm, causing her to send you a look of mock offense.

“Oh shut it.”

“Rude. I am truly and deeply hurt.”

“Overdramatic drama queen.”

“Oh wow just really bring on the insults won’t you?”

Y/N: I was there when all of it went down. I’d like to say that I didn’t know that the band was going to break up but I had my sneaking suspicions. When your career quite literally consists of being a fixer of problems you pick up on where problems might arise. Daisy Jones & The Six was a band that had so much underlying tension that it was for certain that the fuse was going to blow at one point.

You sat next to Karen on the large king sized bed in the suite that somehow Rod was able to swindle for you. Karen had finally fallen asleep after basically crying out her entire soul. God you felt so selfish being able to actually enjoy and crave the warmth that Karen provided as she laid tucked in your arms.

It had taken you a while but ever since the tour started your brain had finally started to accept what your heart already did. You were in love with Karen Sirko. As Breakfast at Tiffany’s plays on the TV you place a kiss on her forehead. And settle in for the fact that you will never have a chance with Karen but you’re comfortable enough loving her from the sidelines.

Y/N: Karen and I regularly kept in touch. I kept in touch with most of the band actually. It was only a few years after the band broke up that the breakthrough happened. And it happened because we were really, really high.

The year was 1980 and somehow you were back to lying down on a roof with Karen Sirko. It wasn’t some random hotel’s roof though, it was the roof of the new house you had just bought.

“I’m glad you invited me over.”

“Of course I invited you over, it would have been an act of a crazy person not to have invited you over.” Karen laughed at your statement before taking in another hit of the strong weed she somehow always kept in stock.

“You know you never did tell me where you get your weed.”

“And I never will.”

“Still as cryptic as ever.”

“Only for you baby.” Karen sent you a little smirk before quickly placing a small peck on your lips and settling back into her position. You lie there dumbfounded. She just- no no way. You’re just really high. Karen Sirko, the most beautiful woman in the world did not just kiss you.

“Uh- did you just kiss me?”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Cause I always wanted to.”

“You’re just high.”

“We’re both high. Plus you know how weed makes me honest.”

“I know you all too well, Karen.”

“Well then you better believe that I just kissed you.”

“Fine I’m choosing to believe you… but I might need some reassurance.” Karen turns to you again with a smirk on her face.

“And what would this reassurance consist of?”

“Another kiss.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Y/N: So yeah things kind of ended well after the shit storm that was my years with the Six. I wouldn’t change a thing though.

Karen: Y/N is my other half and to be able to share my life with someone as incredible as that… I can hardly believe it myself.

Y/N L/N is the owner of one of the most renowned PR agencies for the Hollywood elite and is even rumored to work with some political figures. She lives with her long time girlfriend, Karen Sirko (they are hoping to get married as soon as it’s legalized) in a cabin in the Rocky Mountains but periodically comes into her various offices scattered throughout New York and LA. They co-parent 2 cats.

taglist: @yesshewrites1

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sprinklenoodles · 16 days

Note

First time doing an ask so this one might be lame. I shall ask anyway! What is like, the dumbest, most nonsensical, downright goofiest headcanon you have for some of your faves that just make sense to you despite the comical nature of them? If any of course! Or just, what is any funky or strange headcanon that you have for some of your favorite characters in Danganronpa? Unless someone's already asked this before! That's okay too! Totally understandable!

It's fine!!! I love any ask, gives me more to ramble about :D

And I do have a few funny headcanons. Like Byakuya being Dutch. I actually made a post about that a while back, but what I said in there was basically that Byakuya was blonde, tall and an asshole, just like how quite some Dutch teenagers/Young adults are!

As for some other headcanons: Mondo is scared of spiders. Very scared.

Meanwhile Chihiro loves spiders, he just finds them awesome.

Makoto also had a hamster when he was a kid. Unfortunately, the little thing was in a small cage (Makoto didn't know any better) but it did live a good and healthy life. No weird death!!!!

Toko also wrote fanfiction before publishing her novel. One time she got a comment basically complimenting her writing and saying that they would so read this if this was an actual novel, which led to her publishing it (after changing some little things ofc)

And Leon only likes cherry cola. He hates the taste of normal cola, but loves cherry cola (this one actually came from The Ultimate Mystery Incorporated)

That's all I can think of rn. But if you want to ask me about anything else, you can always leave an ask! Always open to ramble about my silly AU's or just headcanons :D

#danganronpa #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #byakuya togami #chihiro fujisaki #mondo owada #makoto naegi #toko fukawa #leon kuwata #asks #headcanon

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givemetherapyimawritingtravesty · 5 months

Text

For @goodboylupin 's RS Candy Hearts (nearly a year late 🙃 but will I ever forget about it? Maybe never ...)

Maybe Never - Three Times Sirius Won’t Shut Up About His Husband, and One Time Remus Won’t

(1)

“You know, MY husband is an author. Writes all kinds of things. See, he started in journalism and then made his way to publishing. These days, MY husband writes high fantasy instead of hard hitting journalism. Though in my opinion it’s still ‘hard-hitting’…” Sirius trails off with a smirk and a nudge to Remus, who is standing beside him, hands in his pockets.

Remus blushes, leaning in to grumble, “Really? Must you talk about me at every opportunity? I thought you wanted to get in and out of this benefit your brother’s hosting. You hate these things.”

“I do. But I love talking about MY husband. All accomplished, supporting me and my art.”

“Like you don’t make well enough money selling under your family name anyway. Will you ever tire of talking about me?”

Sirius hummed, “Maybe Never.”

((2))

Another Sunday brunch with Remus’ parents, another meal sitting back and watching Sirius drone on about him. Remus has already finished eating is sitting with his arms crossed, leaning against the back of his chair and occasionally sipping his tea.

“See, MY husband just submitted his newest work to his editor and so MY husband is taking us on a little vacation to London to celebrate while he waits for edits and feedback. Not that there’ll be much that needs editing, MY—“

“Yes, dear, Your husband. Our son, must you refer to him like that every time, he has a name that we gave him,” Hopes says with a teasing smile. Truthfully she finds it endearing more than anything, but she has to call her son-in-law out on it anyway.

“Yes, I must,” Sirius says matter of factly.

Remus scoffs, “Don’t you think you’ll get sick of it?”

“Maybe Never, so get used to it.”

(((3)))

“So anyway, MY husband loves this recipe. MY husband says it’s the only good think my parents ever gave us, besides me and my brother of course.”

“Sirius, who are you— oh. Hi, instagram,” Remuss says as he sees the phone propped up against a bag of flour.

“Here he is now, MY husband. Say hi everyone.”

The comments flood with greetings as Sirius continues on baking away. Remus walks up to him for a brief kiss.

“Will you ever even consider stopping referring to me so formally?”

Sirius smiles ear to ear, “Maybe Never.”

(+1)

Remus stands beside Sirius at the art gallery opening, glass of champagne in hand and smiling politely at whoever comes by to talk to Sirius about his art. Currently, some gentleman is talking about considering buying some art for his office, something about sprucing up the family practice.

“Well,” Remus interjects during a brief lull in the conversation, “MY husband, I’m sure, would also be more than happy to do some commission pieces for you too, if there is a theme you have or if you wanted something relating to… teeth? Dentistry, correct?”

“Yes, yes, that’s correct. You think that would be something he— you could do?” The man looks from Remus to Sirius.

“Absolutely, MY husband loves the opportunity to create things especially for patrons. I’ll take a business card if you have one and have MY husband reach out later this week.”

“Yes, I will contact you and we can discuss what you might have in mind for the pieces,” Sirius says, extending a hand to shake before turning to Remus as the man wanders away. “Really? MY husband?”

“How’s it feel?” Remus asks with a smirk.

“Will you ever not tease me? I just like calling you mine.”

“Will I? Maybe Never,” Remus whispers as he leans in for a kiss.

#rscandyhearts #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #in my defense my account got deleted and it took actual MONTHS to get it back and i lost the draft but then i re wrote by hand and ta da #maybe never #thank you again for doing this fest it was one of my first ever and still love it its so cute

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dia-souls · 6 months

Note

Yall are so talented and good at writting reaction. I know you all are going through bunch of controversy and all that stuff but I gotta admit one thing that you all got talent and honestly as a dl-fan that's what matter to me the most who cares if you did wrong or were misunderstood as dl-fans we all gotta chill and enjoy instead of taking things to hearts and getting angry at each other afterall we all create contents for each other and than fight amongst ourselves lol its so idiotic thing in my opinion but I don't create content so I might not understand I guess. Anyway back to the topic what other project are you working on cuz I just got free from exams and touched tumblr and there are no updates on any novel or cd drama (I repeat I am not complaining don't block me) I am just asking.

🦋 Admins talk:

Thank you very much, dear Anon, for your kind words, we appreciate you very much. To be honest we all were surprised by your words. You're so kind, thanks for your word of encouragement we all really appreciate the way you comforted us. We are happy to know you like our contents.

We didn't try to steal any content. Our main motive wasn't to steal any content. It's a misunderstanding we just didn't want to bother the admin with unnecessary notification because she left fandom and that's why we added slash but anyway things did get out of hand and we were misunderstood unfortunately in future we will avoid doing it because let's be honest if we knew this would happen we wouldn't have done it in the first place. But it's very good to speak with people before judging them. Because sometimes you don't know anything about them and your wrong judgment will break their hearts. We don't want to discuss this issue more we have already explained the reasons, apologized and all stuff......

Anyway we think you are concerned for us, as admin Afra recently had small issues regarding her health but she is back in town and is better now she will start posting soon once she is better. Admin Irsa is going through exam phase. Admin Ava is also busy too. All three admins have already plans to release some of their fics and Drama CDs as soon as they get free from their busy schedule. The thing is that we all are young and students so give us some time we all will update soon. Your asks will also be answered soon.

We must say that all the admins love this fandom and like to continue producing contents as long as they feel safe and happy. It was a new novel that will start on December 1st. But this will happen if the admins have good mental conditions. Admin Afra has bigger plans for new novels and games you can see here and a vey big project that called diabolik lovers series. She is not in a very good condition now. We will have to wait and see what happens in the future. If everything goes well, the new novel will be published soon.

Again thanks for your lovely message! People like you is what that keep us going in this fandom! One more thing none of the admins plan to leave the fandom and in near future too so don't worry we aren't that weak it's just admin Afra issue did surprise us. She is young so do go easy on her as she receives a lot of hate for stupid reasons and just for a misunderstanding. Please give her some time to regain her mental health back. So remember don't judge people when you are not aware of their situations. Before sending any hate message try to speak with them first and remember mabye you are judging them in a wrong way. We all are here to enjoy and all three admins love publishing contents so let us enjoy doing it and be nice that's it.

#admin talks #admin afra #afmin ava #admin irsa

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hyacinth-sims · 2 months

Text

Be Okay

Summary: Tybalt practices for his first piano recital in seven years, and comes to realize what makes it much more emotionally challenging than it needs to be. At least there’s someone to help him pick up the pieces this time.

Warnings: None

Pairings: (Established) Tybalt Capp/Mercutio Monty

Word Count: 3.2k

Author’s Note: okay after hurting them so much they get to be cute together are you happy???!!!! although i’d say it’s more hurt/comfort for tybalt, but worry not mercutio will also get his hurt/comfort moment soon! also tybby is a bit ✨softer✨ here since they’re already dating, granted idk how long they’ve been dating but! i tried to keep a lot of his attitude just y’know…less outright mean since they’re bfs and not enemies here 😭 also i will probs publish the mercutio hurt/comfort piece later this week but after that i’m gonna take a short break cause y’all i have less than a month of this semester left and the struggle is REAL!!!! i’ve got so much shit due every week oml! also yes vendetta has not been forgotten about, but it’s a bigger piece so it’s gonna take some time to plan out. i don’t know if these one shots are “in” the vendetta universe so to say, but we’ll see!

In exactly one month and one week, Tybalt Capp would have his first piano recital since his mother died. The last time he’d performed on a stage, in front of an audience, had been seven years ago. He was on the cusp of 19 years old now, and the last time had been about three months before the fire. For seven years, he wasn’t quite ready to face another audience—to look out into the crowd and not see his mother’s smile staring back at him. But he wanted to perform on that stage one last time before he was set to graduate for her.

He was performing two pieces, Nocturne No. 8 by Chopin and Liebestraum No. 3 by Liszt. Chopin was his mother’s favorite composer, and Nocturne No. 8 was her favorite work of his. There was no question about whether he wanted to perform it in her memory; it was only right for him to do so. His second piece was a personal choice, as Liszt, on the other hand, was his favorite composer. He thought about performing La Campanella as it had been burned in his brain from having to perform it in front of his grandfather and his associates, but he wanted to give himself a challenge and learn a brand new piece.

Liebestraum was also a considerably romantic piece, the title directly translating to Love Dream. He initially told himself that it would fit with the theme of Nocturne No. 8, as that was the song that led his parents together. However, it would be a lie to say that he hadn’t been feeling particularly…mushy lately.

He wasn’t sure if he would call Mercutio Monty his boyfriend; it seemed like an oversimplification. They also hadn’t exactly talked about things such as labels or terms, but Tybalt didn’t mind much either way. It wouldn’t change anything about what or how they were anyway.

Mercutio didn’t come to the Capp manor often, but it had nothing to do with whether or not Tybalt wanted him there. Patrizio and Isabella catching Tybalt at the Monty ranch would likely be quite bad, but Grandfather catching Mercutio at the Capp manor? All hell would break loose.

Grandfather was out of town for a business conference, though, and his sisters were having a sleepover at Miranda’s home. He knew he needed to practice for his recital, but being in a secret relationship due to the fact that your families hate each other has taught Tybalt that every potential moment should be taken advantage of. Besides, Mercutio seemed quite enthusiastic about watching Tybalt play the piano. He did ask to be serenaded, though, which Tybalt refused.

He let the final notes ring out, cursing himself for the minor mistake he had made prior. “Sounds just as good the sixth time,” Mercutio teased—sitting in a backward dining chair he had pulled up to the piano. He rested his chin on his folded arms, placed on top of the back of the chair.

“Measure 51 was sloppy,” Tybalt commented with a slight huff, flipping over the sheet music to review as he furrowed his brow. He could practically hear his grandfather commenting on all the tiny mistakes he’d made in his head despite his absence. “I’ve done better before. I need to iron out the mistakes,” He grumbled as he grabbed his pen from the piano desk—circling measure 51 for future reference.

“You’re overthinking it,” Mercutio answered, shrugging his shoulders. “If you keep looking for mistakes, you’re just going to make more,” He added, “Brute forcing it will just burn you out.”

There was nothing he hated more than Mercutio being right, so much so that verbally admitting he was right was a difficult challenge. Tybalt was trying, though, choosing to silently put aside the sheet music for Chopin and replacing it with Liszt. It earned a small smirk from Mercutio that was answered with a scowl from Tybalt.

He took his time to look over the sheet music before even pressing on a single key. It wasn’t the most challenging piece he’d ever played, but it wouldn’t be a walk in the park either. Tybalt took a deep breath in before exhaling and playing the initial few notes. It was a ritual for him, an attempt to release all of the expectations and pressure—choosing to let the music take over instead. Did it work? Not very often, but it was nice to try.

He hadn’t practiced his recital performance in front of his grandfather, not after an argument between Juliette and their grandfather a few weeks prior. It wasn’t often that his sisters witnessed his piano practice, but Juliette just so happened to be doing her homework in the living room. She must’ve been watching his hands as he ceased for his grandfather to point out every little mistake he’d made—and much to both of their surprise, Juliette yelled at Grandfather. It was rare for any of them to stand up to him. For being quite the hothead typically, Tybalt had never once raised his voice at his grandfather.

Juliette said that Tybalt needed a break, as they’d been going for 3 hours at that point—repeating the same section of the same piece over and over. She pointed out his shaking hands, his tired eyes, and the fact he looked as if he was on the verge of breaking to pieces. When they were alone, Juliette suggested Tybalt practice independently for a while—to be free of their grandfather’s criticism.

But he wondered if he would ever be able to get better without him watching over his shoulder like a hawk, pinpointing every tiny mistake he made throughout. Much of Tybalt’s determination and improvement came from wanting to make his grandfather proud, wanting to prove to him that he could be the best and that he was worth something to their family. After a performance, ranging from child to teenager, from stage to party, Tybalt always sought out his grandfather’s face first. He wanted to see just a hint of a smile, a quirk of his lips, anything that would show that he was satisfied.

His eyes stared down at his fingers intently, watching as they danced around the keys. It was similar to how he would watch his mother as a child. Her playing was always so elegant, so gentle—something that never quite came naturally to Tybalt. Tybalt played the piano as if it were anger management, freeing all of the negative emotions that weighed heavy on his mind. It was brilliant for pieces such as the 3rd movement of Moonlight Sonata or Allegro Barbaro, but awkward when attempting to play things romantic and soft—another two adjectives that did not exactly align with Tybalt.

He was trying, though; he was really trying. He was trying not to be so hardened, so closed off, so defensive. Every single day, he remembered his grandfather’s speech about the dangers and destruction of love, and every single day, he started to feel as if it was the truth. The question remained if he would prefer to protect himself from the pain or risk it all for the happiness his mother spoke of.

Although perhaps the true question was if he deserved to love and be loved at all. He’d ruthlessly pushed away anyone who ever got close, no matter who they were. If they ever tried to pry, he would hurl insults until they no longer held any interest. He was the antithesis of everything his mother hoped for him to be, in favor of trying to fit his grandfather’s expectations.

Good people were the ones who deserved love, like his mother and father, who were willing to stand against his grandparents to fight for their love. Like his sisters, who stand proud for their family but would never allow it to overtake their own morals and beliefs. Like Mercutio, who seemed to believe that his purpose in life was to make everybody around him happy—he deserved to be happy himself.

It felt like no matter what he did, he was always going to be disappointing someone. His grandfather, his sisters, the memory of his parents—he would never be as great as he wanted to be for them.

There wasn’t a missed note, a stuttered section, a wrong key, not a single thing out of place. But none of it felt right. The way he was playing, the sound, everything was off. He stopped in his tracks, a half note playing out before complete silence began to smother the room. His eyes wandered down to his lap as his hands left the keys, his fists tightly clenching—the stinging feeling bringing a strange relief.

He could imagine the disappointing stare from his grandfather already, not a word or piece of criticism leaving his lips. If it wasn’t the minor mistakes to be pointed out, it was always the feeling. It was always the fact that he didn’t believe Tybalt understood the song. There was always something, something that always proved he’d never meet expectations.

He didn’t notice any movement or the presence of another person until he felt two hands loosely wrap around his wrists, turning them face up. “How have you not stabbed your palms yet?” Mercutio said quietly as he gently pried open his clenched fists, Tybalt staring down at the indents of his fingernails left dead center in the palm of his hand.

Another one of his horrible habits threatened to be released, insisting to Mercutio that he was very much fine and continued to play. He didn’t want to lie, though, but he wasn’t sure what he could say that wouldn’t leave him crumbling.

He couldn’t bring himself to meet the other man’s eyes, pursing his lips and staring down at his resting hands. “I feel like I’m failing her,” Tybalt murmured, glancing over to notice the raised eyebrow from Mercutio. “My mother,” He clarified, “She never wanted me to fall into…this, like needing my grandfather’s approval every damn second, inheriting that rage and vengefulness from the feud, refusing to be weak.” He couldn’t help the sarcastic laugh he let out, “I’m doing this for her, but I’m honestly not quite sure if she would be proud of me today anyway.”

A pair of hands cupped his cheeks and gently turned his head, and there was no avoiding his gaze anymore. His tired, stormy eyes met warm brown that were filled with concern and a sense of worry. Rarely did anyone look worried for Tybalt; they often just looked at him with anger, neutrality, or worse—pity. “Don’t start,” Mercutio said with a frown, “You don’t wanna go down that rabbit hole, trust me…it fucking sucks.”

He supposed no one could better understand him than Mercutio, having also lost both of his parents quite soon after Tybalt. Being the heir or heiress is probably difficult. Tybalt would never deny that—but he had a feeling that being the oldest was harder. They were both expected to be the protectors, to dutifully watch over their younger siblings without a single crack. They had to live up to the expectations of their grandparents while also being the ones to remember most the horrid loss that led them there in the first place.

They both had to exist solely for a family that would discard them once the heir took over.

“Look, I didn’t really know your mom that well,” Mercutio admitted quietly. Tybalt could remember the few occasions that they had met, but they were quite a long time ago. The first time Mercutio met his mother, he’d presented her with a daisy he had just plucked from the ground—telling her the scientific name Bellis perennis, although mispronounced horribly. Still, it was certainly impressive that an eight-year-old remembered the name at all. “But I do know that she loved you a lot,” He continued, “And she definitely would’ve been proud of you, and I mean…I can say for certain that I’m proud of you, does that count for anything?”

His cheeks began to heat up in surprise, unsure of how to respond. Truthfully, he couldn’t even remember the last time someone had directly said they were proud of him. Maybe his grandfather would occasionally give him a hum and a nod of approval, but that wasn’t the same as hearing it directly. “I suppose it does…yes,” He confessed. Tybalt was excellent at stringing together creative yet eloquent insults, but romance and niceties didn’t come easy—even simple words such as ‘thank you’ were a struggle for him.

Mercutio hummed as he slung an arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer to him. “And you don’t have to do this if you really don’t want to,” He added, “I don’t think your mom would want you to do something only for her sake.” He had a good point; his mother never liked forcing him into things he wasn’t interested in doing. But there was just…a part of him that—

“I want to do this,” Tybalt assured with a slight nod, “I like playing, I like performing…I just really do not enjoy the pressure from my grandfather, and I do not enjoy looking for his face in the crowd after a performance only to see it unchanged.” He could feel a kiss placed on the top of his head, along with a slow nod. Tybalt still wasn’t used to physical affection, but he’d gotten better at not suddenly jolting or tensing up with even just the slightest brush of fingertips against his skin.

His family was never known for their affection. Tybalt couldn’t even remember the last time he’d hugged his grandfather or his sisters. Truthfully, before Mercutio—he probably hadn’t hugged anyone since his parents died. Meanwhile, physical affection seemed to be a staple of the Monty family. Mercutio and Romeo never shied away from putting an arm around a friend’s shoulder, and Viola could usually be seen sitting on her friend’s lap or even kissing their cheeks. It was a far cry from the Capp family, truthfully.

“I’ll be there then,” Mercutio offered with a smirk, “I’ll even force everyone to give you a standing ovation and clap so loud you’ll know exactly where I am in the crowd without even having to look.” Most people would think that to be hyperbole, but Tybalt had a feeling he was being dead serious.

“Your grandparents might actually have you hung, drawn, and quartered if they found out you were sneaking out to go see your secret boyfriend from the rival family perform at a piano recital,” Tybalt commented, “I think they’d find that worse than simply sneaking out to make out somewhere in a field.”

Mercutio laughed, and Tybalt could maybe feel a bit of a weight lifted from his shoulders—metaphorically, of course. “So two things,” He began, “First, if you wanna do that again after your piano recital, I’d totally be down, second—we’re boyfriends now?” He sounded so smug once he reached that second point, and Tybalt put two fingers to the other man’s cheek, shoving away his face.

“Don’t get cocky about it,” Tybalt warned, although he imagined that advice would fall on deaf ears.

“I’m gonna be so cocky about it,” Mercutio teased in return.

He rolled his eyes with a groan, “I’d expect nothing less from you, to be quite honest.” Their journey to where they stood now had been nothing less than chaotic, although he supposed that was typical for Veronaville. They were friends and crushes as children, enemies as teenagers, and this on the brink of young adulthood. Admittedly, he was still afraid to call it love. It was all his mother ever wanted for him, but it was still a very terrifying thought. He’d get there, though, one day.

“You wanna try again?” Mercutio asked as he looked towards the sheet music still placed on the piano desk. “Or take a break?” He continued, his eyes glancing back at Tybalt. Tybalt really couldn’t help how he practically slumped down on the bench, his head resting on Mercutio’s shoulder. He felt utterly drained at that point, both emotionally and physically. While he would typically keep playing until he played perfectly, every part of his body screamed for a break.

“Break,” He murmured decisively. He could always pick it up again tomorrow, and his grandfather wouldn’t be back for another few days, so there was ample time to practice without him. Mercutio would probably still be there the next morning, anyway. He didn’t necessarily need him to be there to play, but it sure did feel nice to have someone there who actually enjoyed his playing.

Mercutio nodded in response before giving Tybalt a mischievous grin, “How about I make dinner and then kick your ass in Smash?” His delusion was clearly admirable; Tybalt had to give him that.

“You’re god awful at Smash,” Tybalt pointed out as he straightened back out, “You’ve been playing Luigi for a decade, and I still beat you every single time.” He didn’t grow up playing video games. He only really began about a few months ago at the suggestion of Mercutio. Unfortunately for him, Tybalt was obviously much better at all of the games the other man grew up playing.

“Hey, I let you win because I was trying to get you to like me,” Mercutio defended, but Tybalt simply brushed him off with a roll of his eyes.

“Why would I swoon at you being terrible at video games?” Tybalt retorted, “You really need to work on your methods of seduction.” Admittedly, Tybalt initially thought that Mercutio was actually letting him win the first few times they played together. But Tybalt very quickly realized that Mercutio was actually just that bad at Smash. Great at Mario Kart, though.

Mercutio moved his hand down to his waist, tugging him closer. “Did it or did it not work though?” He teased—and of course, this ended up causing a debate about whether or not his ‘plan’ had worked. Mercutio insisted that what he was saying was totally true, while Tybalt said that any amount of seduction was in spite of his horrid Smash gameplay. They definitely ‘argued’ about it for far too long, as they’d both forgotten about the plan about dinner and video games until about 10 PM.

Both of them ended up staying up well past 2 in the morning, the time having gone by in a flash. Although admittedly, they didn’t fall asleep til at least 3:30. Apparently, they hadn’t really thought about the fact that Tybalt had a twin bed, and trying to find a comfortable way to sleep might as well have been like playing the world’s most brutal game of Tetris.

They slept on his bedroom floor instead, and for the first time in a long while—Tybalt thought that maybe, just maybe, he would be okay.

SECRET ENDING AUTHOR’S NOTE: would y’all like a post-recital one shot? 😁 lemme knaur

#mercutio just wants to be serenaded tbh #also i have no idea what time period this is set in do NOT ask #ts2 #the sims 2 #ts2 premades #veronaville #tybalt capp #mercutio monty #sims 2 #tycutio #sims tycutio #sims 2 fanfic #the sims fanfiction #the sims 2 fanfiction

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patchesproblem · 2 months

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please some einsla parenting hc with coralie ? 🥺 serious or crack hcs aqsdfghj

I'M SO SORRY THIS HAS TAKEN SO LONG TO DO SOBS. I kept meaning to, but I've been busy and extremely tired.

Anyways, headcanons under the cut!!

I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED SOBS.

One of the sillier ones is that Coralie gets consistently stuck in a 'Go ask your mom' loop that she's unable to escape from.

Jokes aside, I do think that Coralie probably grew up helping Einstein and Tesla in their labs often. I feel like she was a curious kid (especially considering that she started publishing stuff at the same age as Einstein) and really enjoyed learning from them. I like to think they both taught her the things they specialized in / were best in. She was their little helper and proud of it.

I also think that Tesla probably dressed her up often. I don't know why I just feel like she'd take any opportunity to dress her up.

Einstein specific ones really quickly, and then I'll get back to the both of them again.

When she was younger I feel like Einstein helped Coralie brush her hair / tail. I don't know, I just feel like she'd hate trying to brush it because it'd get tangled easily. I already headcannon Einstein as being good at brushing hair without hurting people, so I'd like to think she'd spend time every day doing it for her.

Einstein would probably sneak her snacks every now (including robbing Tesla of her truffles to give to her.)

I like to think that Einstein was always there for Coralie if she ever felt bad / insecure for being different than others. I don't know. I just think the idea that she'd comfort her and let her know that it's okay is a sweet thought.

Okay back to Einsla.

Their house is probably full of pictures hanging up of her and them. I just feel like Tesla's the parent that always wants to take pictures to remember things by. This kinda goes hand in hand with my hc that they both keep photo albums to remember stuff, but I wanted to mention it anyways.

Tesla probably gets ganged up on by both Einstein and Coralie. They both just stare at her with that expressionless stare consistently. She hates it. It was bad enough when Einstein did it but now she has two of them doing it.

Coralie gets her hatred of doing dishes from Einstein and Tesla. I'm not elaborating.

Joachim probably watches after her some too I think. When they have to go on business things I'd like to think they leave her with him so that her and Joffrey can see each other. I like to think the both of them have a close bond, especially since he calls her his sister. He probably hides behind her when he's afraid. I don't know why I just feel like he would.

Sometimes Einsla also leaves Coralie with Schrodinger to watch her (whenever she crawls out of the SoQ). They regret it. Schrodinger is a bad influence on her (not in the bad way but in the 'Why is she coming back and saying this stuff Erwin. What are you teaching our kid.') Coralie likes her a lot I think. They're animal-eared buddies.

I have a lot more, but my minds drawing a blank right now. I think I'll reblog this later and add more as I remember them. Tldr though is that they all genuinely love each other. They're family.

If you have any specific hcs you were wondering about feel free to send another one!!

#honkai impact 3rd #frederica nikola tesla #lieserl albert einstein #coralie 6626 planck #einsla #nikolas posts #nikola responds to asks #anon #nikolas headcanons

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performativezippers · 3 months

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As a non writer I’m curious about something. Do you decide to write a specific genre and then work an idea into the genre or do you write the idea/story you want and then look to decide which genre it is? I guess I’m curious if the story or genre comes first?

Great question!

For fic: I write whatever the fuck I want and don't worry about it! I mostly write things that end happily because that's what makes me happy, but as long as I tag things appropriately (AU, platonic, IN SPACE, whatever), I don't let any of that bother me. Fic is so fun because it can so easily slide between genres. And most fic is romance AND something else; romance and crime/mystery, romance and scifi, romance and fantasy, or simply contemporary romance. There's a big thing in the publishing world right now where people are like "omg, ROMANTASY, aka fantasy with a primary romance, HOW THRILLING" and I'm like...dude...this not new! Welcome! Have you heard of a lil fandom by the name of XENA WARRIOR PRINCESS??? Do not cite the Deep Magic to me Witch. I was there when it was written.

For novels that you're trying to get published: I had to learn what book genres were! I queried my first novel—which is when you send it out to agents like a job application, with a cover letter and writing sample, and hope they want to represent you, aka help you sell it—being like THIS HAS NO GENRE and it turns out the genre was romcom with speculative elements. Aka low key romantasy, lol. Anyway, that book was Revelations and it didn't sell, I think primarily because the genre conventions were not met and it was confusing. It worked great as a fic, but required several big overhauls and ground-up rewrites to get it to place where it meets genre expectations and is maybe sell-able.

Usually the idea that comes to me is clear what genre it is, now that I know what they are. I primarily write romcoms, some speculative and some not, and so the ideas that percolate for me most are romcoms. However, my agent said recently a new idea I have might be more on the line of romcom and women's fiction* which surprised me. But that's fine! It doesn't change the book I write; it might change how we talk about it in the pitch process and, if it gets sold, how the marketing team frames it. But that won't change the story structure from a drafting perspective, I don't think.

Some genres are very close to each other (upmarket vs. book club fiction vs. women's fiction), while others are quite distinct (if you want it set in space, that's probably going to be sci fi). I think the main questions are:

(a) Setting: Is it on a space ship? (sci-fi) Are there dragons? (fantasy) Can people use magic? (fantasy or speculative) Is it in our world, in our time? (contemporary) In our world but in 1250? (historical)

(b) Character motivations (what do they NEED): To repopulate their planet? Save their mother from the evil magician? Fall in love? Save her bookstore from capitalism?

(c) Obstacle (why don't they have it ALREADY): If the obstacle is primarily internal, like she can't fall in love because she hates herself, then we're looking at a straight romance or literary fiction. If the obstacle is world-building related, like the spaceship is broken or the magician is too powerful, that's going to be firmly sci-fi or fantasy or whatever.

There should always be at least 2 obstacles: one internal and one external, but you should know which one is paramount, or which would win in an epic battle. And that will help you figure out if you're writing, say, romance with speculative elements (soulmates) or fantasy with a strong romantic element (fourth wing, i think, i haven't read it because it seems bad). Whichever you list first is your primary genre, aka which section of the bookstore it'll be in. Are you shelving this in fantasy (fourth wing) or romance (Revelations) or "fiction," and then the rest gets more specific from there.

*also, just like, FUCK the name "women's fiction." Men's fiction is called "fiction."

#writing advice #ask zipps #book genres #publishing

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