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rebelwrites · 1 year

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Winner Takes It All || Twenty Five: Scratch It, I End You

Charles Leclerc x Valentina Hendrix (OC)

Winner Takes It All Masterlist

Summary: Charles had a plan, the Mustang was waiting for them at the track but there was one final surprise he had up his sleeve

Warnings: tiny mention of the crash

A/N: two posts on a week aren’t you lucky sods 😜

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

It still amazed me how I managed to squeeze into the bucket seats of the ST with this god annoying cast. One week down practically a million more to go. Leaning my head against the window of the car I watched the scenery change, my mind was spinning again but to be honest it hadn’t stopped spinning since the crash.

I was pretty much a pro now at putting on a front, hiding what I was really feeling but I knew Charles could see straight through the mask, he always had this superpower to know when I was hiding behind this cocky attitude I wore like armour.

Feeling Charles link his fingers with mine it not only took my breath away but it pulled me from my downward spiral.

“You doing okay?” he hummed, keeping one hand on the steering wheel and his eyes on the road ahead. “And don’t give me the bullshit story you have been telling everyone else.”

Letting a heavy sigh escape my lips, I turned to look at Charles finding myself taking in his features, his hair was getting longer so most of the time he was rocking the messy just got out of bed look. Before I went down the rabbit hole of staring at this stupid perfect face I remembered he had asked me a question.

“Urm honestly, I don’t know how to answer that.” I sighed.

The moment the words left my lips he squeezed my hand gently, flicking his gaze over to me for a brief second. “I just feel like I’m lost, I wasn’t meant to be ending the season like this.” I could feel the tears burning my eyes. “Don’t even say things happen for a reason because if you do I will punch you.”

Charles let out a sigh before indicating and pulling into the nearest car park. Once the ST had come to a stop he shifted in his seat taking both of my hands in mine, his thumb brushing across my skin sending sparks through my skin. “My sweet girl,” he hummed, looking up at me with a soft loving look on his face. “Everything is going to be okay, I promise you will get through this, we will get through this together.” His voice was soft as he spoke, with every word he spoke I felt him slowly chipping away the walls I had built around my heart and that scared the living shit out of me. “As much as I want to go back and change the past, we can’t. But what we can do is take things one day at a time, taking baby steps to rebuild everything back up.”

A traitorous single tear rolled down my cheek, I knew the words he spoke were not about the crash, they were about us.

Automatically he reached up, brushing away the tear with his thumb, “babygirl, please don’t cry.” he whispered, cupping my face in his hands. “I will get you back on your feet, I will be there throughout every physio visit, every doctor's appointment, everything. I am not going anywhere babygirl, not now not ever. I walked away from you once and I won’t be making that mistake again.” he had a small smile appear on his face before he leaned in, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Now, for the rest of the day we are going to have some fun. If you can’t go to the track, I will bring the track to you”

“What do you mean?” I hummed, resting my forehead against his, letting my eyes flutter close, relishing his touch, it was something I had been craving for so long.

“Look up babygirl.” he whispered, pulling away from me causing me to look up out of the windscreen.

My jaw dropped the moment I saw we were at the track we both spent the majority of our childhood years at. But what shocked me the most was the candy apple red 1965 Mustang GT350 Fastback parked at the start line. It looked exactly like mine but it couldn’t have been seen as mine was securely locked up in the garage back in England.

“It is yours.” Charles chuckled, as if he could read my mind. “I got it flown over for this reason.”

“But I can’t drive it, you muppet.” I huffed, folding my arms across my chest trying to hide the pain I felt in my ribs.

“No but I can.” he winked, the cheeky grin on his face growing by the second.

He was like a child on Christmas morning, I had never let him drive the Mustang before so he was relishing in the fact he would be the one to take the beast around the track.

“You scratch it, I end you.”

“You seem to be forgetting I am the best Formula One driver on the track.”

“I am right here, you asshole.” I pouted, lightly smacking his chest with the back of my hand. “You seem to be forgetting that I fucking dominate that track and I dominated you.”

“Oh you can dominate me any time baby.” he winked, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “As much as I want to continue this, it is time to push the beast to the limits and see what that beauty can do on the track.”

“You already know what that beauty can do on the track.” I giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Damn right I do.” he smirked before slipping out of the car.

Soon enough Charles had helped me out of the ST and into the Mustang, it wasn't easy but he managed it without moaning even when he couldn’t get the passenger seat to push back any further.

Hearing the engine of the beast and feeling the vibrations through the seat put a smile back on my face. It had been too long since she had been driven.

Without any warning Charles slipped the car into first gear and sped off down the track.

It was like I had been transported back in time to when we used to race the ST around this very same track, glancing over to Charles I noticed how wide his smile was as he pushed the Mustang to its limits.

Hours had passed and I was pretty sure I needed four new tyres on the Mustang but I didn’t care. Right now Charles was doing everything in his power to make me feel like myself again and it was working. My jaw actually hurt from smiling so much. Although the moment he started doing donuts in the beast I was ready to punch him.

The car soon came to a stop and Charles looked at me with a cocky smirk.

“Told you I wouldn’t scratch it.” He hummed, taking my hand pressing tender kisses against my knuckles.

“Nah but you killed my tyres, asshole.” I giggled.

The tears freely fell down my cheeks as I took in the sight in front of me. The sun had only just set and the picnic blanket and pillows were set up on one of my favourite spots in this country, the back of Charles yacht. I had no idea how I managed to get all of this set up when we spent the whole day at the track but I wasn’t going to question this.

“Bear, this is beautiful.” I whispered, feeling Charles wrap his arms around my waist and I automatically leant back into him.

“Not as beautiful as you.” he whispered, his breath ticking the back of my neck as he spoke.

Ever since Japan things had started to change between me and Charles, in fact things had started to change long before that. The pinnacle moment for us was when I showed up at his hotel room drunk, pouring my heart out to him. But things were slowly going back to how we were when we were dating.

“You did all of this for me?”

“Vali, I always have and I always will do anything for you, no matter the cost, no matter the effort because it is worth it to see that smile that captures my heart.” Charles hummed, taking my hand in his leading me over to the picnic blanket helping me down onto the blanket. Once he was satisfied that I was comfy he sat down behind me, spreading his legs either side of my body, pulling me closer to him.

In this moment it was like the past didn’t exist, neither did the heartache and pain. This moment was pure bliss, and for the first time for a while my heart was happy. It was just me and Charles, no one or anything else mattered right now.

“What are we going to do, Bear?” I whispered, keeping my focus trained on the sky, watching as the clouds rolled by.

“Like I said in the car babygirl, we take each day as it comes.” Charles whispered, pressing a kiss against the back of my head. “We focus on the moment rather than worrying about what tomorrow will bring.”

“I was talking about us.” I whispered, finally saying the words that had been on the tip of my tongue for the last few weeks. “Everything is changing, and you can’t tell me you can’t feel it too.”

“Remember when I said I want us to start over again, I don’t care how long it takes, I will wait as long as you need.” he whispered, resting his head against my shoulder. “I meant every single word. I do feel it, and I want nothing more than for us to go back to how we were but I am happy to wait until you are ready even if that means waiting until I am old and grey.”

I had practically choked on my words at his response, even though the words I wanted to say were on the tip of my tongue but no matter what I couldn’t get the words out. Running my hands over my face I blinked away the tears.

“Babygirl, I know you are scared and I don’t blame you.” Charles hummed, moving so he was now knelt in front of me, taking my hands in his. “Look, I know I hurt you in the past and ever since then I have hated myself for walking away from you. I still love you Valentina, you have my whole heart, you always have done.” Turning my gaze to him I found myself getting lost in his eyes, the lights sparkling in them provided me with a feeling of calmness. “Ever since you turned up at my hotel room I have been clinging onto that bit of hope that this time would come.”

Pulling one of my hands from his I reached up resting it against his cheek, feeling his nuzzle into my touch. My heart was screaming at me, this is what I had been wanting for years now.

It was now or never.

Taking a deep breath I lent forward, closing the gap between us. Pulling my other hand free I wrapped my arms around Charles neck, my gaze flicking between his mesmerising eyes and his lips. My heart was racing as we both edged close to each other. Once our lips connected everything was going to chance once again. But I knew in my heart I was ready and this was what I wanted.

Our lips were millimetres apart when my phone started ringing causing me to groan knowing exactly who was calling by the ringtone that was blaring on the deck of the yacht.

“Fucking Pierre!”

@chibsytelford @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @stillbreathin @angywritesstuff @miamedyu @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @micks-afterglow @livo67 @buendiabebeta @pleasedontfollowinlost @ferrarifwendvale @hungryhungarian @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @sunf1owerrq @queenslife @panicforspec @inesramoss30 @justme2042 @liv67 @sessgjarg @derpinathebrave @idkiwantchocolatee @littleobsessionsandlifeslessons @alynoa @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @organasith @inchidentwithmax @raaaaabzzz @teamspideyman @marvelousmendess @mehrmonga @sbgal @thattaylorswiftobsessedbitch @mloyer

#Charles Leclerc #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 #f1 x oc #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula one #formula one x reader #formula one x oc #formula one imagine

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silverstonesainz · 4 months

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Opinion from some that doesnt currently post my work on tumblr(I have in the past), but does post on AO3 and how myself and peers use/view tumblr. I would like to note, RPF and F1 aren’t my normal wheelhouse; but I do feel like the ideas are consistent across fandoms. I also see this topic so much more on Tumblr than I do on any other site. And I would like to remind you that Tumblr isn’t really “meant” for posting your fanfictions. It’s done often, but it’s not a platform that makes it easy to read fics on. It might be worth it to make the jump over to AO3 or wattpad { if anyone asks I will never admit to recommending wattpad. it really is a hellsite (not affectionate)}

likes=Tumblr’s version of kudos, it’s a signal that I didn’t DNF your post. It’s the acknowledgment that I recognize that you spent time on this content.

Reblog= are the equivalent of me recommending something to a friend. if it’s not something that I stand behind 100% I’m not likely to reblog.

Comments= are for interactions. I and others normally don’t rush to leave a meaningful comment on Tumblr until we feel comfortable. There nothing worse for a reader that’s taken the time to read a work, leave a thoughtful comment hoping to have someone to geek out over how awesome something is and get a lackluster response.

Asks= especially anons because that seems to be the benefit.

Requests for part 2 or 3 normally mean that the story was unfulfilling for the reader. Either the fic wasn’t what they were looking for, which isn’t anyone’s fault and they hope a part 2 would satisfy that “craving” i.e. give them what they had originally been looking for or story doesn’t feel “finished” and again doesn’t feel satisfying. Especially when a work is marked as a one-shot.

When I see people complain about their work not being reblogged I compare it to the experience of giving a good review/tipping because someone is standing there vs because the service is good. It’s like an author thinks you can shame someone into reblogging.

well fun fact, i actually have an ao3 & wattpad up, where i posted the winner takes it all. i just wanted to see how fics appeal to readers on every site and so far, i think i just prefer tumblr because of all the possible interactions to have with more people. i havent really attempted to make connections on wattpad (bc i agree that place is an actual hellsite (deg)) or ao3. i met some pretty awesome people on this site and its the reason i stay. but i've been contemplating making the move completely for a while.

now to be clear, i dont think every single one of my fics deserves a million likes and reblogs, i don't think my shit is even that great in comparison to the vast majority of writers across all fandoms. im just lil ole me. i'm mostly frustrated with the lack of reblogs on fics where i get constant comments about part 2 part 2 part 2. like i've seen users who comment part 2 but dont even interact with the fic and it's just so offputting ya know? anyways im rambling, i do appreciate this insight a lot. thanks for coming in.

#a-nonnie

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frihetkanske · 1 year

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I posted 647 times in 2022

That's 632 more posts than 2021!

165 posts created (26%)

482 posts reblogged (74%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dreamingbrownie

@kirkenovak

@cinnamoncountess

@designtheendless

@annievvv7

I tagged 406 of my posts in 2022

Only 37% of my posts had no tags

#grindeldore - 166 posts

#ggad - 108 posts

#albus x gellert - 105 posts

#albus dumbledore - 84 posts

#gellert grindelwald - 81 posts

#dreamling - 65 posts

#fantastic beasts - 54 posts

#the sandman - 52 posts

#fanfiction - 51 posts

#dumbledore x grindelwald - 39 posts

Longest Tag: 133 characters

#i shitpost because the government in my country really decided to fuck up about half a million peoples life with a new tax regulation

My Top Posts in 2022:

Contains slight SOD spoilers!

At this point I'm comforting myself with the thought that maybe, maybe Albus apparates to Nurmengard later in the day after their duel, probably at night, tearing through the wards like they're nothing.

To his power, they really are, and the person's magic, who put them up, is so similar it feels like coming home instead of invading his supposed-to-be enemy's headquarters.

He's ready to flee, should Gellert want to fight with him if he regrets not killing him when he stood with his back to him, so the view, that awaits him, takes him aback.

Gellert is a wreck.

He had been crying for some time, judging by his eyes, bloodshot and puffy, and the small tremors running through his body. His clothes are the same as they were in Bhutan, he didn't care to change.

His bedroom, ever so neat and well-kept, is a mess.

The desk and chair are in pieces, books cover the carpeted floor like fallen leaves cover the ground in autumn.

Did his magic explode as his anger and feel of betrayal lashed out, emotions no longer being able to kept under control? Or did he destroy everything with his two hands?

Did he really drink half a bottle of scotch on his own?

Albus had seen Gellert in many various states, but shitfaced drunk, barely clinging to consciousness is something new, and he's not sure he likes it.

Alright, let's be honest, he straight away despises this state of him.

When he steps over the threshold, Gellert looks at him with so much fear in his eyes it makes his steps halt.

"Go away," Gellert rasps out, "I know why you're here. Haven't you tormented me enough already?'

"I mean no harm, Gell." Using the old nickname may be cheap, but it does the trick. "I wanted to check on you. I was worried."

"How come? You never cared about me before. You came, spoke the words you knew I need the most, until I believed you actually meant them, then you disappeared. As visions do. Spare me this time, just this once. Please. It hurts so much. I can't."

In that moment Albus realises that Gellert thinks he's just another shadow of himself, one that promises him all the things he's craving for - his companion, support, encouragement, love, trust, to belong to him again.

He spends a good hour of proving Gellert he's real.

Reassuring his heartbroken husband that his love didn't stopped pumping the blood in his veins despite the pact being broken.

When Gellert can finally stand, Albus undresses him, helps him to change, tucks him in and holds his hand until he's asleep.

He shouldn't stay, that's the worst idea he's had since a long time, but Gellert turning to alcohol or any of his old methods of coping with pain would be even worse.

So he lays down next to him, closes his eyes, and when he wakes, it's because of ashen grey curls tickle his nose, and their bodies are pressed so close together as the mere thought of parting would tear them apart from each other's arms.

337 notes - Posted April 11, 2022

!!!SOD SPOILER ALERT!!!

I got out of the cinema a few hours ago, and I'd like to mention a few things:

1. "the summer Gellert and I FELL IN LOVE" I couldn't believe my own ears. They could have used many other expressions, like "met" or "got acquainted", but no, WB really gave us the whole truth. They. Fell. In. Love.

2. Albus's blissed out face when he sees Gellert, the way he closes his eyes, I bet he can feel him in the room even if he doesn't see him, his magic; and my darling really looks like Gellert's presence is balm to his aching soul (and a bit like he's just had an orgams but it's just me and my dirty mind).

3. Once they're touching, the fight is over. Immediately.

4. Gellert is mad about the blood pact, and doesn't even try to hide it. One does not throw himself off of a cliff unless he's seriously done with everything.

5. Did Gellert use to cradle Albus in his arms the way he does it with the Quilin?

613 notes - Posted April 7, 2022

Dream always greets Hob at the door when he comes home after several hours of teaching, until one day he doesn't.

Hob enters the apartment, confused, as he knows Dream is in there, yet cannot imagine a thing why he doesn't come to exchange their almost mandatory good-to-see-you-i-missed-you-terribly kisses.

Quietly, he makes a beeline to the bedroom, and as he steps through the threshold, he's offered the most adorable view he's ever encountered in his long life: Dream's lying between their pillows in the middle of the bed, his starlight-patterned blanket pulled up to his waist, and on his naked chest there's Jessamy, who must have returned from the Dreaming sometime during the day because she definitely wasn't here when he left in the morning, now curled up in her sleep.

"She fell asleep about half an hour ago," Dream whispers as their eyes meet. "I would wake her if I moved. She's dreaming about us, Hob, she's so happy to be with us."

Hob decides it's a perfectly understandable reason for his beloved to change their regular routine.

656 notes - Posted October 2, 2022

Jessamy Reincarnation AU

What if Jessamy, instead of entering the Sunless Lands, reincarnates after her death, and meets Dream in her next life?

Just imagine. Hob and Dream are walking hand in hand in a park, passing by a group of kids. They're all orphans, enjoying their daily outing, running around, playing catch, Dream doesn't pay much attention to them, but then there's a little girl with pale skin and raven-black hair, she's lively and cheerful and their eyes meet and the recognition sends Dream to his knees because it's her.

Jessamy runs to him so fast that she almost trips over her own feet, while Dream is already honest-to-god weeping by the time she reaches him. Their embrace would be bone-crushing if Dream wasn't scared of hurting her - he doesn't spend much time around children, you see, the last time he held one in his arms was eons ago -, and his hands are trembling as he cradles the precious child closer, not quite ready to let go of her yet. He feels Hob kneeling down behind him, a steady hand on his back, a gesture of grounding he's immensely grateful for.

"You're Dream," says the girl with such certainty that shatters his heart in two then mends it immediately again. "You're my Papa."

Another sob threatens to break from his throat and he feels like someone stabbed him in the chest with a sword, but the last thing he wants is to scare away Jessamy, who's smiling at him as if not a day has gone by since they last saw each other.

"I can be your Papa if you want me to," Dream promises, no, swears, on everything he has, "my dear Jessamy. How much I missed you."

He has no idea how much Jessamy remembers, or how a legal adoption process works, he doesn't know a single thing save that in this life he won't let any harm come to her, and she will be the happiest, most cherished child of two worlds.

[the fic based on this is now complete]

706 notes - Posted October 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Vinda, casually: How much do you want Albus Dumbledore-

Gellert, tearing up already: The need to have him with me, in my life, physically, not only in my heart and my memories, is almost unbearable. His absence pains me more and more with every breath I take.

Vinda, with a frown: -dead?

971 notes - Posted April 14, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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bonnieventure · 2 years

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omg i think like.. if you can remember my sister did briefly have her own oekaki and you had drawn a couple things on there and we got into tumblr shortly after, and i think my sister had just reblogged some of your text posts and i was like 'omg dibby is a riot' so i had to follow..a decade later its a Forever Follow if you will!!

i know i've said it similar many times i'm sure haha but....!!! isn't it wild to think, to just meet by happenstance...a one in a million chance that we would pass by the other in this world and now...here we are.. ! all the little things that came together for such an event :, ) not to get all sentimental now glkjdfg

also irt -> oekaki, wow that takes me back. what a web relic. i have been craving smth creative + collaborative like that these days. ohh to be part of an artist exchange diary circle 😩

#a Forever Follow likewise hehe

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human-psyche · 9 months

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LADY OF THE BLOODFALLS

#Ko-fiChallenge

This is an excerpt from a fictious novel created in one of my stories to reflect the same genre / topic, as a sneek peek of a project / work of mine. The cover / design is also created by me.

I hope it will stir interest and gain appreciation, so do share or reblog if you like and my ko-fi is always open if anyone would like to buy a coffee to help with my writings, other art related stuff and future posts.

A life worth living is not a life without mystery. Many of us believe that. We live our lives confined to routines and defined by mundane calculations, yearning to become one with the unknown. We dream with our eyes open about universes in which we could be different, able to afford to own the key to what is out of our reach. We create, we shape, we destroy and rebuild, we crave to escape logic and free fall into the irrational, we cover up the disappointment in our hearts when superstitions are the only hints we've got, we wait for the world to end and crash, we delight with some of the most unproven facts and fear losing control of the normal eventhough normalcy feels suffocating sometimes.

It's a given: we're human, we are not programed to not wonder. Human nature dictates that life and mystery are entwined forces, and everything in between becomes a piece of red. Ancient, beautiful, violent. It starts and ends. It gives life and takes一 the color of birth, love and death, the color of blood, the color of desires, aggression and sacrament. This is what life is: grotesque grace, something only the color red can weight equally. A middle ground where the fair bow down to the tainted, where innocence dies too young, where shadows move on their own, and the dead walk amongst the living.

There are the ones who are ignorant, the picture perfect of the normal. They live simple lives, guided by a false sense of safety surrounded by preconceptions and walls. Then, there are the ones who open their ears to the whispers of the dark, reckless, toeing the line of the insane. They search and test the waters, they take a myth and look it in the eyes with conviction, they feel and see what is not there.

We fear death and what could lay on the other side, perhaps more than we fear the unknown itself, but above everything, we fear losing ourselves through a blindfolded game of hot and cold where nothing is as it seems.

Immortality sounds like the answer to a lot of problems, a gift, a phenomenon none can offer or obtain, or so do we think.

This life, minimal, transparent, human frailty and the flaws that make space for the little moments of joy, unity and memories: the error is not in being human, it's in being anything else, and death grants us that sweet release.

There's no rest to immortality, the wicked will never know the comfort of oblivion, destined to remember everything, to feel everything, magnified at a million degrees.

It's true, vampires steal lives. They don't just kill, they're ink into water, creeping through the cracks and right inside the cavern of the ribcage, in the shivers climbing shoulder blades, in the fear that asphyxiates, the touches in the dark, the wind through the curtains, the steps down corridors and stairs, the wars of the mind, to flee or stay, the secrets, the chase. And they exist, cursed to relive a lifetime on repeat, to love once and die a thousand times with each loss and memory, forever outsiders between reality and illusion, not belonging on either side. They're trespassers and looters of human nature, they pillage and possess, to fill the empty hole in their chests.

To live forever is hell on earth: it burns the soul from the inside out, perpetuating the cold numbness to the core of the heart, but that's the pleasure of it, slow torture, reaching the night sun with wings of paper.

The embers of charcoal devour it, untill all that remains is red...

1904, Leonore von Nieve

#original fiction #story excerpt #vampire #dark fantasy #supernatural #mystery #action #drama #suspense #design #vampire aesthetic #original characters #creative #angst #tragedy #human nature #sad life #immortality

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iguessweallcrazyithinktho · 3 years

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To my future son

Summary: I know your requests are closed, but with Chris’s interviews today this popped into my head about the advice he would give to his unborn son, and when you’re brain gets noisy, write it down. What if when the reader tells Chris, she’s pregnant and all throughout the pregnancy, he writes advice and stuff to his unborn child. You had no clue he was doing this, and after the birth, he showed you what he has been up to.

Warning: fluff, pregnant reader

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Please don't post any of my content anywhere else without my permission! Comment and reblogs welcome!

You've been feeling extremely sick the past two weeks. You couldn't keep your food down no matter how small, you kept threw up every morning and you were craving the most random combos. You knew right away that you were probably pregnant so when Chris was away for work one day you decided to get some test.

You drove straight to the drugstore at around 10am. Lucky for you it was morning and barely anyone was out so you had a good chance of not being seen by one of Chris's crazy fans.

You parked your car and made your way inside. Right off the door was some little shopping baskets which you grabbed before you ventured through the store. You walked straight to the aisle with the pregnancy test. There was so many it blew your mind. You scrunched up your eyebrows as you scanned over them. You wanted to get one that was perfect and that would tell you the truth.

Eventually you decided to get a costy one and one that was cheap. You placed them in the basket before you walked from the aisle. You decided to pick up some jelly beans, a pint of ice cream, a bone for dodger and some random candy bars. After you got everything you went straight to the counter.

At the counter was a older woman who most likely didn't know Chris, she definitely didn't know you. You watched as she picked up the pregnancy test and smile. You couldn't help but smile back.

"I remember this moment when I was younger." She said as she rung them up. "I hope it works out for you." You smiled at the women's kind words. The thought of having a baby made your heart skip a beat. You were praying that you were pregnant.

When everything was rung up you payed, thanked the woman before you walked back out to your car. You got in, placed your bags in the passenger seat before you drove out of the parking lot back home.

It was a short drive to yours and Chris's concord home. When you returned home, you parked your car before you got out and walked inside. As soon as you entered you were met with a happy dodger.

"hi buddy." You scratched his head making his tail wag harder. You smiled at him. "I got you something from the store." You pulled away and reached into the bag. He happy watched you pull out a delicious bone. "Here you go." You unwrapped it and handed it to him. He took it gently before walking away with it.

"your welcome." You laughed. You walked through the house into your bedroom. You placed the bag on the bed before digging through it. You pulled out the pregnancy test and inhaled. Your heart was thumping against your chest as you walked to the bathroom with them.

You sat on the edge of the tub and ripped open the box. You pulled them out and looked at them. You took a huge deep breath. "It's going to be okay y/n." You said to yourself. You started doing the little process to see your results.

After you peed on the little stick you waited a 3 minutes which felt like a million years. When your phone timer ringed, you picked up the test. Your hand was shaking as you turned it around so you can see the results.

Positive!

You gasped. You were pregnant finally. Tears began to form in your eyes as you placed the test on the counter. You couldn't wait to tell Chris.

----

You wanted to make telling Chris you were pregnant special so you took a little trip to target (or baby store) and picked up some gender neutral pair of shoes.

They were so tiny and it made you want to cry. Your future baby will have those little feet. You paid for them and made your way back home. Before Chris could return and see what you were doing, you placed the shoes and positive pregnancy test in a box Along with the jelly beans you brought earlier that day. You wrote him a little card telling him how much you loved him and slipped it in the bag. As you did you heard the door open.

"baby." He called out as he closed the door. You walked into the foyer with a smile on your face. Chris chuckled as he looked at you. "What are you so happy about?" He asked as he placed a kiss on your cheek. "Well um I have to to tell you something."

You took his hands, "you ready?" Chris smiled, "yeah." You smiled back at him before leading him to the bedroom. As soon as you entered, Chris noticed the box sitting on the bed.

"what's this?" He asked as he looked down at it. "It's for you. Just a little gift from me." Chris looked up at you confused but opened it anyways.

He ripped the ribbon off and lifted the top. He picked up the little note you just finished. "Hm, let's see what this." He opened it and began to read it in silence. You watched as his face turn into a smile. It made you smile too.

When he was done he looked over at you. "I love it." He leaned over and kissed you. Before the kiss could get too heated, you pulled away. "Okay, we're not done. Look through the bag." Chris laughed as he placed the letter down. He looked through, eyebrows scrunched. When he saw the baby shoes his heart stopped.

He turned to look at you to see you smiling. "Are you serious?" You smiled, choking back tears. "No, we're going to have a baby."

Chris couldn't contain himself. He let a few tears escape before he hugged you. "I've been waiting for this moment for – forever." He said through his tears. You nodded, agreeing with him. "Me too."

Chris pulled away and cupped your cheek before kissing you. He kissed you with so much passion, almost like it was the last kiss he'll ever give you.

He then pulled away, got down on his knees and kissed your none existing bump. "Hi little guy or girl, I'm going to give you the world. I promise."

----

Ever since that day Chris has been ecstatic. The day after finding out you were pregnant he brought a notebook and a scrapbook.

He wrote down so many things he wanted his little jelly beans. He told him about the current world, the good and the bad. He mentioned you some many times it was insane. And when he found out he was having a boy he was sure to give him advice on how to treat people, how to be a helpful person, and how to do certain things that could come in handy.

You had no idea he wrote any of those things until after birth.

Labor was long and stressful for you. It was almost 12 hours before you were able to give birth to your baby.

Now a few hours later he was cleaned, checked and now laying asleep against your chest. You couldn't stop smiling as you looked at him. He was so adorable and he was your little baby for the rest of your life.

You looked over at Chris who was sitting in the chair beside you. He had a notebook in his hand, writing in it. "Chris, what are you doing?"

Chris looked at you, "oh I'm writing notes and advice for our bubba. I started after you found out you were pregnant."

You had no idea he was doing that. "That's so sweet." You said. Chris smiled while nodding. He placed the notebook on the table and got up. He walked over to you. He leaned down and gave you a kiss before he looked at y/s/n. "I don't know if you heard me when you were just a little peanut but like I said, I'm going to give you the world."

Y/s/n smiled the slightest. He may or may not have heard Chris but he was never going to break his promise.

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#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagines #chris evans x plus size reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans x black reader #dad!chris evans

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oikawaplssteponme · 3 years

Text

locked lips

pairing: Pro Hero! Izuku Midoriya x fem! reader

ratings/warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI [please im literally begging you], swearing, legal consumption of alcohol, slight praise, fingering, use of the name ‘baby’, deku being a little bit of a cocky jerk, unprotected intercourse, make-up sex

genre: ex’s to lovers, smut, aged up characters, fluff/angst (?)

word count: ~2.2k words

synopsis: You broke up with him on impulse. That doesn’t mean you stopped loving him. Now you’re back at his place, at a party you planned, with him looking just so desirable. What else were you to do?

a/n: hi hi! alright friends, this being my first nsfw post i cannot stress enough how important it is that minors don’t interact. if i catch any minors interacting with this post, ill delete this post and block them, which i obviously don’t want to have to do. just please respect these rules :)) anyway, reblogs are greatly appreciated and enjoy xx

You scrolled through your phone, mindlessly. You tried your best not to double tap on any of the pictures on your screen. The last thing you needed was for him to know you were stalking his page.

“You should start getting ready,” said Uraraka. You looked over at her, cocking a brow.

“Uh I'm not going?” you huffed. Uraraka sat down beside you.

“Don’t be like that Y/N. You still have to go tonight, regardless of Deku.”

“The party is at Deku’s house. I’d look like a total idiot showing my face there after we broke up.”

You sat up and crossed your arms. Ochaco sighed. She grabbed your shoulders.

“Y/N, you are gonna go to the party and make Deku regret his entire life. Anyway, I’m bringing you as my plus one, so you have to come!”

You sighed. “Fine, but I’m staying with you the whole night.”

Ochaco smiled and gave you a quick hug. She got up and began scanning through her closet again.

You had been staying with Uraraka since you and Izuku had broken up. It was a blow out fight. You yelled at him for caring about work more than you. He shouted at you for not being understanding of his career. The words you meant mixed with the words you didn’t, and chaos erupted between you and him. So, you packed a bag and left. You didn’t want to, but you were done.

While you and Deku were still together, you helped him plan an event for him and his fellow Pro Heroes, as an opportunity for them all to get together. Now, you would be attending that same event. Only, not with him.

“Who would’ve thought there’d be a day where I’d have too many clothes to choose from,” laughed Ochaco. You smiled.

“You should wear that pink dress Iida bought you for your birthday. I don’t think you’ve worn it out yet.”

“You think? It’s not too much…”

“Of course not! You’ll look hot,” you teased. Ochaco smiled.

“Alright alright I’ll wear it. But then you have to wear this!” She pulled out a bag from her closet and handed it to you.

“Please don’t tell me you bought me something…”

“I had to! All your clothes are still at his place...and I wanted to make sure you felt good tonight.”

You gave Ochaco a nudge and pulled out the tissue paper. You felt the soft material in between your fingertips, pulling it out from the bag.

“Uraraka...”

“No need to thank me. You’ve been through hell and back these last few weeks, the least I could do is get you a pretty dress.”

You jumped towards your friend, engulfing her in a hug.

“Thank you.”

“Hey now, let’s get ready! The limousine will be here in just a few hours!”

You sat in the back of the limo with Ochaco as you were on your way to Deku’s party. You looked like a million bucks. A little part of you hoped someone would take notice.

The estate where Izuku lived was gated off. Once you were let inside, you could see the beaming lights from the top of the hill. You felt your stomach clench, nerves building inside of you. You wanted to see him, but you also didn’t want to see him doing better without you. You haven’t even been apart that long. A month maybe? Certainly not long enough for him to be over you, because you certainly weren’t over him.

“Oh wow, Deku went all out!” cheered Ochaco. You looked to see the endless decorations and glamor that surrounded you.

“Yeah, these were my ideas,” you mumbled. Ochaco placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t stress about it. Let’s just have fun, okay?”

You exited the vehicle and began to make your way inside. Champagne fountains and blasting music greeting you. His house was just as extraordinary as you remembered it. Nothing less than perfect for the No. 1 Hero.

“Uravity! Y/N!”

You turned to see your friend Iida, plus others from your old days at UA.

“You two are looking stunning tonight!” smiled Kirishima.

“Why thank you, it’s all thanks to this one,” you chuckled, giving Ochaco a nudge.

“I honestly didn’t expect to see you here tonight Y/N,” said Shoto. You shrugged.

“Well, I was invited after all. So Mr. Number One Hero can deal with it,” you huffed.

“Sounds like you could use a drink.”

Kaminari handed you a glass of champagne, which you took happily. You clinked glasses with your friends before dousing the beverage down.

“It’s gonna be a long night,” you mumbled to yourself.

You found yourself on the living room couch of Izuku’s large complex. You watched as Pro Heroes danced mindlessly with far too many drinks in their systems. You chuckled. At least they’re having fun.

You hadn’t seen Izuku all night, which was strange considering this was his party. You looked over to the glass staircase, knowing more than well that his bedroom was upstairs. You knew the layout like the back of your hand, after all, you lived here for a year.

You knew all your stuff had to be upstairs. You only had time to pack a small bag the day you left. Surely he wasn’t awful enough to throw your things away. You got up from the couch and quietly made your way up the stairs, hoping no one saw you sneak away from the action of the party.

His bedroom was at the end of the hallway. The doors were closed. You placed your shaky hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly. It was unlocked.

You stepped inside. The smell of his cologne filled your senses, causing memories to flood in as well. His room was neat, as if no one had been sleeping in it. You turned to the closet. All your clothing should be on the right side.

“Sneaking around?”

You jumped, removing your hand from the closet handle. You turned around slowly.

“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t burn my shit,” you huffed. Izuku chuckled. He took a few steps towards you, opening the closet.

“Don’t paint me as a villain Y/N. All your things are safe and sound.”

Your side of the closet was just as you left it. Exactly how you left it. You looked back to Izuku.

“Perfect. Then I’ll be taking it with me when I leave-”

“I’m surprised you came at all. I figured you’d want to be as far away from here as possible.”

“I didn’t come for you, I came for Ochaco.”

“Oh right.”

Deku took a step back, placing his hands in his pockets. That devilish smile stared you down, causing your face to burn. You could see the outline of his muscles through his white button down.

“You look incredible by the way. New dress?” he smirked. You rolled your eyes.

“Well since all my clothes were here, yes.”

“Well serves you right for leaving out of nowhere.”

Your eyes widened and you clenched your fists.

“I didn’t leave out of nowhere, I left because you cared more about your job than me!”

“That’s not true-”

“To hell it is! I was tired of being second to everything so I left!”

Izuku took a deep breath and stepped closer to you. He placed his hand under your chin, having you look at him.

“I didn’t want to break up.”

Your breathing got heavier without you even realizing it. You also didn’t realize that Midoriya had you pressed against the closet door.

“I-I didn’t want to either…” you whispered. Izuku smiled.

“Then tell me baby, why did we?”

“B-Because I didn’t know what else to do…”

Izuku brushed his thumb against your cheek, then took a step back.

“Look, I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted was to make you feel under-appreciated...but-”

Izuku moved closer to you again, pinning your arms to your sides and pressing his torso against you all in a swift motion.

“-I can think of a better way to prove it to you.”

You tried to catch your breath. All you wanted was him at this exact moment. Was that a good thing? Of course not. Did you care? Of course not.

“Then prove it to me.”

Izuku wasted little time in moving you onto his California-king. He pinned you down onto the mattress and instantly kissed you. You felt the rush of butterflies swarm your stomach. You hated how much you had missed this.

Deku let go of your wrists and you began to unbutton his shirt. With little patience, he helped you from out of your dress. He dived back down, locking lips with you once more. You dragged your nails down his back, listening as soft groans escaped his lips. He moved down to kiss and suck on your neck.

“Fuck~” was all you were able to get out. Izuku’s hands grazed your burning body, feeling the skin that he had been craving since the day you left. He snaked his hand to your back, unbuckling your bra easily.

“I’ve still got it…” he teased. He threw the bra to the floor and gave you little time to breathe before kissing you again. You ran your fingers through his fluffy hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

“Izuku...please…”

His puppy dog eyes stared back at you.

“What is it?”

You panted heavily, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I need you.”

A smirk creeped onto his face. Izuku kissed your cheek.

“I promised I was gonna prove it to you, wasn’t I?”

Izuku sat up, unbuckling his belt. He slid off his pants and boxers. You caught a glimpse of him, causing your body to feel on fire. Midoriya placed his head in between your legs. He teasingly kissed your inner thighs, keeping his hands glued onto them. The anticipation was practically killing you.

“Izuku-”

“Patience baby...I’m in no rush…”

He moved up to your underwear, biting onto one of the strings and pulling it down. They were practically soaked already. Same with your bra, he tossed them to the floor.

He continued to kiss and nip at your thighs, inching impossibly closer to you. You couldn’t take it anymore.

You grabbed Izuku up and kissed him feverishly.

“So eager baby~”

“Please just fuck me,” you whispered. Izuku chuckled. He licked his lips.

“As you wish.”

Izuku spread your legs apart, dipping one of his fingers inside of you with ease. You arched your back, letting out a moan, and gripping onto his arm tightly.

“That’s it baby~”

Midoriya slipped another finger in, stretching you out even more. You clenched around him as he added more pressure.

He removed his fingers and better adjusted himself above you. He held his cock in his hand before slowly pushing it inside of you.

You didn’t remember him ever feeling this good.

Izuku began to thrust into you, slow at first before building in speed. You could feel yourself clenching around him, sweat forming on your skin. Midoriya groaned with each movement as he pushed even deeper. He kissed you as he fucked you, though you were such a mess you could barely keep up.

He knew exactly how to get you worked up.

“Oh god...I’m c-close,” you mumbled.

“Not yet…”

Midoriya moved his hand down, taking his thumb and rubbing your needy clit. You gripped onto him even harder, digging your nails into his skin as he pushed you over the edge.

“Oh fuck-fuck-”

“Fuck baby, I-I love you-I’m sorry-” he stuttered out.

“I-I love you t-too. Fuck Izuku- I’m gonna cum-”

“Cum with me baby-”

Izuku went even harder as he reached his climax, following you. You let out a pleasure filled scream as you let go. Izuku laid on top of you, catching his breath as your body shook below him.

He looked up at you, brushing his hair back.

“I love you,” he repeated, in case you didn’t believe him the first time. You smiled.

“I love you too.”

You had forgotten all about the party that was occurring below you. As you got redressed to head back down to meet Ochaco, you felt Izuku grab your hand.

“What is it?” you asked him. Midoriya took your other hand as he stood before you.

“I really am sorry. I don’t want you to leave again,” he explained. You sighed. You ran your fingers through his hair, kissing his cheek.

“It’s okay, I won’t.”

You walked downstairs with Izuku, his hand interlocked with yours. You watched as Ochaco’s jaw dropped at the sight of you.

“Oh so that’s where you were for the last hour and a half?” she huffed. You chuckled nervously.

“Yeah sorry…”

“Well the limo is here to take us back home, or are you staying here?” she asked. You looked up at Midoriya.

“I’m staying.”

Soon the Midoriya residence was quiet, just you and him remained. You curled up with him on the couch, his arms holding you tightly as he kissed your head.

“You wanna know why I didn’t get rid of any of your things?” he said. You laughed.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I knew you’d be back.”

•

reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

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kittenofdoomage · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday to my blog, seven years ago today I started out in this strange wilderness and it's only gotten stranger 👍 nearly 700 stories and over 3.3 million words of fanfiction.

I was just going to leave this as a happy birthday blog post but I feel like I've got a few things I need to get off my chest, so this is below the cut, I know not everyone wants to or particularly cares to read it so there's ya choice 🤷‍♀️

There's no big announcements here FYI. I'm just doing what my friends have told me and putting my thoughts down on paper.

Some of you may have noticed I'm not posting anything on Tumblr anymore. The lack of interaction (comments, asks etc.) has just really put me off putting anything on here because it doesn't really feel like anyone either wants to read it or wants me around anymore, and I'm not gonna beg for attention. I'm not surprised, to be honest, my whole life I've been a square peg in a round hole. People just don't want me around - it's not just online. In real life there's exactly one place I feel like no one wants me to leave and that's in my house, with my family. I've just always been an odd person, and there aren't many people who vibe with me, it's cool, I've accepted it. But I'm not gonna be opening myself to that discomfort or pain anymore. My fics are all on Ao3 and I'll continue to post on there, my Tumblr will remain but I can't find the strength to get excited about something and then deal with the crushing feeling that no one wants my work. TBH I barely check Tumblr that much anymore bc I only come on here to check messages (usually from Beka, who knows all of this already but if you're reading this, thank you for listening to me and being patient with my mental breakdowns). My asks are staying off for now (sorry, Heart Anon, I love you, I've no idea who you are but please know you've been a light in my life and I appreciate you so much, and Marie, you have also been a beautiful friend with your daily gifs and hearts) but my PMs are on, just don't expect an answer right away.

I turn 35 tomorrow. It's been playing on my mind a lot, especially since my life expectancy ain't looking too good lol. I don't really have much of a life outside Tumblr. I'm a pretty boring person actually. Writing was the way I expressed myself and I truly enjoyed interacting with people who liked my stories. During the pandemic, it's been a way to keep myself focused and keep from slipping into the dark places we're all too familiar with. But there have been occasions lately where writing has been the cause of a slip into a dark place. And that's not healthy, and I need to work on it. I feel this is the time to stop forcing myself to write, seeing as I can't do much of it with my tiny human home for the school holidays.

My Patrons don't need to worry, I've still got material to share, it's a commitment I intend to honor because really, writing is the only thing I have, the only thing I feel I can do well and I am so, so, so, appreciative of every single person that supports me. I can't have a regular job right now (I hope that will change at some point because I've worked all my life until I got sick and I hate it) but you guys have given me a thread of independence, of dignity, and I value every one of you so much, those who have supported, who continue to support and who do so in the future.

I know this won't get absorbed, because it never does but those of you who read on Tumblr... please share the work you like. Set up a separate blog if you're too embarrassed to share on your main, make a reblogging blog, send asks, whatever, just please tell your author how much you liked what they did. I can assure you, those authors are waiting for it. We work so hard on what we make, what we create, we want you to scream from the rooftops. It doesn't even have to be coherent, we love all the feedback, we crave it (as long as it's not just a demand for part two, even Thor learned to ask for more without being rude about it, everyone else can). Without it, we're like plants without water. We don't feel the want to create anymore. And that's kinda where I'm at now. I don't want to lose my passion for my art but when there's nothing to do it for, sometimes it's out of our hands.

So, that's where I'm at. I'll probably lose followers (though I've already lost 250 in the last two months so that's not a surprise) and if any of my Patrons feel like my statement is unacceptable, that's fine. I don't expect anyone to agree with me. I just wanted to put my feelings down, to be honest with everyone. And I have.

I don't want the list of stories to end at 700. I want to keep creating stories that everyone will enjoy. I really hope things with change, even if not for me, then for the others out there who are on their creative journey.

Much love to everyone, stay safe xxx

(this post will remain untagged so it will not show in searches and I'm not tagging those people who I have spoken to about this and my feelings in general, as they know who they are, and they know they're very special, amazing, and appreciated people to me. I don't particularly care if this gets reblogged or not.)

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 years

Text

Recommendation engines and "lean-back" media

In William Gibson’s 1992 novel “Idoru,” a media executive describes her company’s core audience:

“Best visualized as a vicious, lazy, profoundly ignorant, perpetually hungry organism craving the warm god-flesh of the anointed. Personally I like to imagine something the size of a baby hippo, the color of a week-old boiled potato, that lives by itself, in the dark, in a double-wide on the outskirts of Topeka. It’s covered with eyes and it sweats constantly. The sweat runs into those eyes and makes them sting. It has no mouth…no genitals, and can only express its mute extremes of murderous rage and infantile desire by changing the channels on a universal remote. Or by voting in presidential elections.”

It’s an astonishingly great passage, not just for the image it evokes, but for how it captures the character of the speaker and her contempt for the people who made her fortune.

It’s also a beautiful distillation of the 1990s anxiety about TV’s role in a societal “dumbing down,” that had brewed for a long time, at least since the Nixon-JFK televised debates, whose outcome was widely attributed not to JFK’s ideas, but to Nixon’s terrible TV manner.

Neil Postman’s 1985 “Amusing Ourselves To Death” was a watershed here, comparing the soundbitey Reagan-Dukakis debates with the long, rhetorically complex Lincoln-Douglas debates of the previous century.

(Incidentally, when I finally experienced those debates for myself, courtesy of the 2009 BBC America audiobook, I was more surprised by Lincoln’s unequivocal, forceful repudiations of slavery abolition than by the rhetoric’s nuance)

https://memex.craphound.com/2009/01/20/lincoln-douglas-debate-audiobook-civics-history-and-rhetoric-lesson-in-16-hours/

“Media literacy” scholarship entered the spotlight, and its left flank — epitomized by Chomsky’s 1988 “Manufacturing Consent” — claimed that an increasingly oligarchic media industry was steering society, rather than reflecting it.

Thus, when the internet was demilitarized and the general public started trickling — and then rushing — to use it, there was a widespread hope that we might break free of the tyranny of concentrated, linear programming (in the sense of “what’s on,” and “what it does to you”).

Much of the excitement over Napster wasn’t about getting music for free — it was about the mix-tapification of all music, where your custom playlists would replace the linear album.

Likewise Tivo, whose ad-skipping was ultimately less important than the ability to watch the shows you liked, rather than the shows that were on.

Blogging, too: the promise was that a community of reader-writers could assemble a daily “newsfeed” that reflected their idiosyncratic interests across a variety of sources, surfacing ideas from other places and even other times.

The heady feeling of the time is hard to recall, honestly, but there was a thrill to getting up and reading the news that you chose, listening to a playlist you created, then watching a show you picked.

And while there were those who fretted about the “Daily Me” (what we later came to call the “filter bubble”) the truth was that this kind of active media creation/consumption ranged far more widely than the monopolistic media did.

The real “bubble” wasn’t choosing your own programming — it was everyone turning on their TV on Thursday nights to Friends, Seinfeld and The Simpsons.

The optimism of the era is best summarized in a taxonomy that grouped media into two categories: “lean back” (turn it on and passively consume it) and “lean forward” (steer your media consumption with a series of conscious decisions that explores a vast landscape).

Lean-forward media was intensely sociable: not just because of the distributed conversation that consisted of blog-reblog-reply, but also thanks to user reviews and fannish message-board analysis and recommendations.

I remember the thrill of being in a hotel room years after I’d left my hometown, using Napster to grab rare live recordings of a band I’d grown up seeing in clubs, and striking up a chat with the node’s proprietor that ranged fondly and widely over the shows we’d both seen.

But that sociability was markedly different from the “social” in social media. From the earliest days of Myspace and Facebook, it was clear that this was a sea-change, though it was hard to say exactly what was changing and how.

Around the time Rupert Murdoch bought Myspace, a close friend a blazing argument with a TV executive who insisted that the internet was just a passing fad: that the day would come when all these online kids grew up, got beaten down by work and just wanted to lean back.

To collapse on the sofa and consume media that someone else had programmed for them, anaesthetizing themselves with passive media that didn’t make them think too hard.

This guy was obviously wrong — the internet didn’t disappear — but he was also right about the resurgence of passive, linear media.

But this passive media wasn’t the “must-see TV” of the 80s and 90s.

Rather, it was the passivity of the recommendation algorithm, which created a per-user linear media feed, coupled with mechanisms like “endless scroll” and “autoplay,” that incinerated any trace of an active role for the “consumer” (a very apt term here).

It took me a long time to figure out exactly what I disliked about algorithmic recommendation/autoplay, but I knew I hated it. The reason my 2008 novel LITTLE BROTHER doesn’t have any social media? Wishful thinking. I was hoping it would all die in a fire.

Today, active media is viewed with suspicion, considered synonymous with Qanon-addled boomers who flee Facebook for Parler so they can stan their favorite insurrectionists in peace, freed from the tyranny of the dread shadowban.

But I’m still on team active media. I would rather people actively choose their media diets, in a truly sociable mode of consumption and production, than leaning back and getting fed whatever is served up by the feed.

Today on Wired, Duke public policy scholar Philip M Napoli writes about lean forward and lean back in the context of Trump’s catastrophic failure to launch an independent blog, “From the Desk of Donald J Trump.”

https://www.wired.com/story/opinion-trumps-failed-blog-proves-he-was-just-howling-into-the-void/

In a nutshell, Trump started a blog which he grandiosely characterized as a replacement for the social media monopolists who’d kicked him off their platforms. Within a month, he shut it down.

While Trump claimed the shut-down was all part of the plan, it’s painfully obvious that the real reason was that no one was visiting his website.

Now, there are many possible, non-exclusive explanations for this.

For starters, it was a very bad social media website. It lacked even rudimentary social tools. The Washington Post called it “a primitive one-way loudspeaker,” noting its lack of per-post comments, a decades old commonplace.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2021/05/21/trump-online-traffic-plunge/

Trump paid (or more likely, stiffed) a grifter crony to build the site for him, and it shows: the “Like” buttons didn’t do anything, the video-sharing buttons created links to nowhere, etc. From the Desk… was cursed at birth.

But Napoli’s argument is that even if Trump had built a good blog, it would have failed. Trump has a highly motivated cult of tens of millions of people — people who deliberately risked death to follow him, some even ingesting fish-tank cleaner and bleach at his urging.

The fact that these cult-members were willing to risk their lives, but not endure poor web design, says a lot about the nature of the Trump cult, and its relationship to passive media.

The Trump cult is a “push media” cult, simultaneously completely committed to Trump but unwilling to do much to follow him.

That’s the common thread between Fox News (and its successors like OANN) and MAGA Facebook.

And it echoes the despairing testimony of the children of Fox cultists, that their boomer parents consume endless linear TV, turning on Fox from the moment they arise and leaving it on until they fall asleep in front of it (also, reportedly, how Trump spent his presidency).

Napoli says that Trump’s success on monopoly social media platforms and his failure as a blogger reveals the role that algorithmically derived, per-user, endless scroll linear media played in the ascendancy of his views.

It makes me think of that TV exec and his prediction of the internet’s imminent disappearance (which, come to think of it, is not so far off from my own wishful thinking about social media’s disappearance in Little Brother).

He was absolutely right that this century has left so many of us exhausted, wanting nothing more than the numbness of lean-back, linear feeds.

But up against that is another phenomenon: the resurgence of active political movements.

After a 12-month period that saw widescale civil unrest, from last summer’s BLM uprising to the bizarre storming of the capital, you can’t really call this the golden age of passivity.

While Fox and OANN consumption might be the passive daily round of one of Idoru’s “vicious, lazy, profoundly ignorant, perpetually hungry organisms craving the warm god-flesh of the anointed,” that is in no way true of Qanon.

Qanon is an active pastime, a form of collaborative storytelling with all the mechanics of the Alternate Reality Games that the lean-forward media advocates who came out of the blogging era love so fiercely:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/06/no-vitiated-air/#other-hon

Meanwhile, the “clicktivism” that progressive cynics decried as useless performance a decade ago has become an active contact sport, welding together global movements from Occupy to BLM that use the digital to organize the highly physical.

That’s the paradox of lean-forward and lean-back: sometimes, the things you learn while leaning back make you lean forward — in fact, they might just get you off the couch altogether.

I think that Napoli is onto something. The fact that Trump’s cultists didn’t follow him to his crummy blog tells us that Trump was an effect, not a cause (something many of us suspected all along, as he’s clearly neither bright nor competent enough to inspire a movement).

But the fact that “cyberspace keeps everting” (to paraphrase “Spook Country,” another William Gibson novel) tells us that passive media consumption isn’t a guarantee of passivity in the rest of your life (and sometimes, it’s a guarantee of the opposite).

And it clarifies the role that social media plays in our discourse — not so much a “radicalizer” as a means to corral likeminded people together without them having to do much. Within those groups are those who are poised for action, or who can be moved to it.

The ease with which these people find one another doesn’t produce a deterministic outcome. Sometimes, the feed satisfies your urge for change (“clicktivism”). Sometimes, it fuels it (“radicalizing”).

Notwithstanding smug media execs, the digital realm equips us to “express our mute extremes of murderous rage and infantile desire” by doing much more than “changing the channels on a universal remote” — for better and for worse.

Image: Ian Burt (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/oddsock/267206444

CC BY: https://creativecommo

ns.org/licenses/by/2.0/

#pluralistic

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let-me-write-shit · 4 years

Note

Hiiii! I absolutely love your writing. Could you do an imagine based off of your pregnancy one shot? Since H is incredibly private, would the couple be able to hide her pregnancy from the public and then announce it similar to like Kylie Jenner’s video diary of the whole experience? Thanks!!

A/N: Ok I was OBSESSED with this request, but for some reason I found it very difficult to write, so I’m so sorry if it’s shit. Hope you like it <3

Word Count: 2,698

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

To add yourself to my Taglist, click HERE

CLICK HERE TO READ OTHER COMPLETED STORIES

Friendly reminder to please like and/or reblog. It helps more than you think :)

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Is Forever Enough?

From the moment Harry found out he and Y/N were expecting their first child, he knew he wanted to document everything. He had been in the habit of capturing moments throughout their relationship, mainly of big events, but from this moment on, he wanted to capture it all. Little clips of every doctor’s appointment, every craving his wife had, every heartbeat, and every little kick. He wanted video documentation of the life growing inside his wife’s belly and everything that happened during that time. They had waited so long for this moment, and now that it was finally here, he wanted to make sure they would never forget a single second of it. From telling their closest friends and family members, designing the nursery, their tiny baby shower, attended by the select few that were lucky enough to know their secret.

At first, keeping silent was a way to protect themselves in case Y/N’s pregnancy didn’t stick like their fertility doctor had warned them was a possibility. It took them nearly two years to conceive, and the thought of going through a miscarriage in front of millions of watchful eyes was terrifying. But by the time they became aware that they weren’t going to miscarry, they had gone so long without announcing it that there wasn’t a point to do it. Why ruin something that was so well hidden?

The decision not to announce their pregnancy to the public wasn’t a hard decision to make. Harry was private, anyway, and everyone knew that. He was rarely on social media and didn’t talk about his private life to many people, and those who he did talk to were very loyal and trusting. They just wanted to enjoy being pregnant without the prying eyes of strangers and it was fairly easy keeping it under wraps considering how private they were, to begin with.

The timing of Y/N’s pregnancy helped, too. The early part of her pregnancy was during the summer, so they could enjoy tropical holidays together without worrying about being seen because she simply wasn’t showing yet. But, towards the end, it got harder to conceal, like during award season in the fall when an oversized shirt or puffy dress couldn’t conceal the roundness of her bump and plumpness of her cheeks and lips. It was the first award season she hadn’t accompanied Harry to in years and people began to get suspicious.

That’s when the rumors of her possible pregnancy started. Of course, no one could prove anything. But that, along with the lack of sightings of Y/N was enough proof for some. Luckily, nothing more came of it other than whispers. Harry had stopped doing interviews when he first got wind of the rumors, so no one could catch him off guard in uncomfortable positions or having to lie to protect his wife, and he began to focus his attention back on his music, halting his pursuance of on-screen work for the time being until after their baby boy’s arrival. Instead, he was the man behind the camera.

For the most part.

There were times when certain family members or friends would pick up their camera and film some things for them, capturing little intimate moments of the parents-to-be. They even enlisted the help of Harry’s on-tour photographer, Helene Pambrun, to help film the birth of their baby. Though she focused mainly on photography, her knowledge of videography and style of filming fit exactly with what the couple wanted, and Helene was all too honored to be a part of the day.

And although the birth of their child was, albeit, a bit traumatic, they couldn’t have asked for a sweeter baby boy. Born on a frigid Friday evening on March eighteenth after twenty hours of active labor and an onslaught of chaos, Paxton Robin Styles was born, tiny, healthy, and beautiful, surrounded by family that already loved him so dearly.

The hospital staff was wonderful in keeping their attendance private, no one having a clue that they were even there. No news articles or whispers were heard of their newest addition to which they were grateful to be allowed to enjoy their first week home, getting acclimated to being new parents. They had fallen in love with him.

“Y/N!” Harry exclaimed, bouncing into the nursery on a Monday afternoon as his wife fed their son, his phone in hand, and a bright smile on his face.

Y/N looked up, surprised and slightly offended, “Don’t ever call me by my name again,” she joked, stroking their son’s cheek.

Harry laughed, “Sorry, love. But, look! It’s here!”

He held his phone in front of her face, playing the edited version of their pregnancy and birth journey in video form one of Harry’s editor friends kindly put together for them after the birth of their son. The five minute and fifty-one-second video filled with shortened clips of the last nearly ten months of their lives in becoming first-time parents. They watched it together, occasionally glancing down at their baby that had fallen asleep while eating in Y/N’s arms, in awe that this was their life.

Tears were streaming down both of their faces, and Y/N giggled, wiping her husband’s cheek with her free hand. He was an emotional being, she knew that, but she had no idea what the effect of fatherhood would be on her Harry. She couldn’t have picked a better partner to raise a child with.

“I think we should post it,” Harry said, causing Y/N’s eyes to go wide.

“Post it? Like...social media?”

Harry nodded, “Well, we can’t keep him a secret forever. People are already starting to talk. I’d rather announce it on our own terms than on someone else’s. We can still stay as private as possible, I’ve already talked to Jeffrey and my publicist about it. I just...he makes me so proud and I feel like I need to show people that.”

Y/N smiles sweetly at her husband, taking his hand that rested on the arm to the nursing chair and pulling it up to her lips, kissing it gently. “Okay. We can post it.”

Later that evening, the internet was in an uproar and their phones were blowing up like crazy, for on both of their Instagrams they posted a grey-scale picture of a name tag sticker that read “Hello, I’m: P”, captioned ‘link in bio’, where they were directed to a youtube link posted under Harry’s account.

As soon as the video began, Harry’s soft voice was heard, singing his version of ‘Lullaby’ by the Dixie Chicks in the background as unseen footage of their wedding a few years prior had fizzled into view, video of their first dance as husband and wife played while the tail end of a speech made by Harry’s mom, Anne, was heard over everything else.

“We are so incredibly grateful to have Y/N now an official part of our family and I wish you both years of love, health, and happiness….and giving me tons and tons of grandchildren,” earning laughter from the attendees, “I love you both to pieces. Congratulations.”

The video slowly changed to little snippets. Y/N running towards the beach, holding her hat tight on her head with one hand while the other was holding onto Harry’s hand that was at the bottom of the screen as the breeze whipped at Y/N’s hair and sarong, cut to a clip of the camera propped on the beach overlooking the two of them sitting in the sand, looking out into the ocean, Y/N’s head falling on Harry’s shoulder and him kissing the top of her head as the sun set.

Next was a scene during one of Harry’s tour where someone filmed Y/N at the front of the stage in a VIP area beside a few of their friends, dancing and singing along with Harry who stood in front of her, smiling and singing at her.

The next images were upsetting. When they first started trying, they recorded videos of themselves awaiting the results of their tests, hoping to capture the moment they found out on film. One after another, the video showed negative test upon negative test, wanting to document the struggle they faced in fertility, one of the main reasons they decided to post this video. If it helped just one person who struggled with infertility and gave them a bit of hope, they needed to show it.

They showed clips of Harry holding an emotional Y/N in his arms, her eyes filled with tears and a quivering lip as he kissed her forehead and stroked her hair. Until the next clip showed. A shaky still of a screen that read ‘Pregnant’ that panned up to show a reflection of Harry and his wife in the mirror, Y/N pulling the test up to her face with a smile while Harry looked down at his wife in pride, softly touching her flat belly.

Clips of an ultrasound showed, Y/N stomach looking more bloated than anything as the doctor slid the wand around on her belly, Harry filming while squeezing his wife’s hand. His voice could barely be heard over the music of the video as he cooed, “Is that it, right there? So little…”

They included a few announcements they made to family members. How they told Anne while on an end of summer family vacation with a little jewelry box that opened up to two little birds and an egg in a birds nest with a note that said ‘A little birdy told me you are going to be a Nana.’ making Anne burst into tears, hugging them. And when they told Y/N’s best friend by giving her an orange and saying, “That’s how big our baby is right now,” which caused confusion before the screaming.

Y/N had filmed mirror clips of her growing belly in the floor-length mirror that stood in the corner of their room and had gotten clips of Harry laying beside her bump, his hands rubbing her stomach, clasped on either side as he sang, or talked, or read stories.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” he could be heard saying before kissing the top of her bump, looking up and past the camera to his wife, smiling lovingly.

There were images of Christmas, Gemma having caught an intimate moment between the two of them, Y/N sat in between Harry’s legs on the floor, mugs of hot chocolate in her hands and still in their Christmas Pajamas, Harry’s cheek pressed against hers as he held up a blue Gucci baby suit in front of them, smiling and gushing about how small it was.

The couple’s silhouette could be seen in the dark light sky as they stood in the middle of the field, illuminated by the New Years’ fireworks that went off in the distance, Y/N’s belly pressed against Harry’s stomach as they kissed intimately amongst their friends.

A small baby shower inside one of their London country homes was next, littered with a few familiar faces along with some that were likely family members. Harry still sang in the background as the two of them opened gifts, smiling and laughing with each other, genuine happiness and love could be seen on everyone’s faces and a few people popped onto the screen to say a few words for the unborn baby.

“You have wonderful parents,” Y/N’s parents grinned, her mom getting teary-eyed. “I can’t wait to see the person you become.”

Anne’s bright, shining smile was next, “You’re going to do amazing things. You are so loved.”

“Hi, my sweet nephew! It’s Auntie Gemma,” she grinned, waving at the camera, “I can’t wait to meet you and snuggle you! I hope you grow up to be just as kind and loving as your parents. We are so lucky to have you in our lives.”

Harry and Y/N were seen in the background, Y/N eating a slice of cake while Harry casually kissed her cheek before stealing a bite of her food, earning a smile from his pregnant wife

Video panned over their newly renovated nursery, mostly designed to be gender-neutral with little hints of outer space; moon lights, a solar system mobile hanging above the cot, with a star blanket draped over the nursing chair. Harry moved the camera to Y/N who was hanging some onesies in the nursery closet, smiling and waving at the camera.

Next, they were laying in bed. It was dark and, but a glow from a nightstand shone and Y/N’s belly was visible, round and very pregnant, a few freckles near her navel, and the faintest linea nigra could be seen running from her belly button down towards the bottom of her belly. Their voices were barely audible over the music still sung by Harry. A little ripple on her belly cast from left to right and then her belly distorted a little as their baby boy kicked and pressed against the center of her bump, making the couple laugh and Harry’s hand appeared, softly rubbing where his son’s foot would be.

It changed. They were in a hospital now, Y/N in a grey and white spotted hospital gown. The camera was propped on a table filming Y/N who sat on the edge of her bed, moving her hips from side to side as she breathed heavily, moaning, while Harry kneeled on the floor in front of her, his hands on her hips and squeezing to relieve some pressure. They were talking to each other, concern, and empathy clear on Harry’s face.

In the next clip, Y/N was laying back in her hospital bed, sucking on gas and air. Harry was filming this time, and his Anne could be seen this time, sitting on Y/N’s other side holding her daughter-in-law’s free hand. Y/N put the gas and air down, gave a thumbs-up, and smiled, “We’re having a baby today!” as her mother-in-law smiled brightly.

The footage faded to black before it flashed to Y/N looking at someone just out of view as the disembodied voice said, “Whenever you feel the urge to push, let us know. You’ll be meeting your son soon.”

It faded to black again, Harry’s singing more evident in these moments, louder, as the footage flashed back into focus. The camera was, once again, being propped up on a table. At Y/N’s head on either side stood Anne who was still holding her daughter-in-law’s hand, while Harry stood, back to the camera, mostly blocking the view of his wife as one hand stroked her hair and the other held her hand. The doctors could be heard saying, “Deep breath” before Y/N took a deep breath in, bringing her legs to her chest with the help of a few nurses that could hardly be seen, bearing down and pushing as the nurses counted and Harry said, “Great job, love. Keep going. You’re so strong.”

The screen went black. A doctor’s voice was heard saying, “One more big push.” Y/N could be heard taking a deep breath, and a little exasperated yelp before gasping from both Harry and Anne followed by the beautiful, gurgling cry of their baby. Harry’s sweet singing voice in the background of the video got louder and finally, the video came back into view of a little name card on the bassinet that read:

Name: P, Styles.

DOB: March 18th

Weight: 6 lbs 12 oz

Height: 20 inches

Time: 8:39 PM

The camera panned down to the top of a blue baby cap with a white embroidered ‘P’ in the center, moving as their son wiggled in his bassinet, the hushed reassuring whispers of his parents heard just behind the camera as little lip-smacking and coos could be heard from the baby.

The screen went blank as the song started to end and white words appeared on the screen.

“Welcome to the world, Baby P. We love you to the ends of the earth.

Love,

Mummy and Daddy”

------------------------------------

Taglist:

@odetostep , @thurhomish

#Harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles blurb #harry styles dad #dad!harry #pregnant #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles smut #harry #one direction #1d

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radiowallet · 3 years

Note

I need some advice. How can I get more notes? I see a lot of people getting a lot just by posting smut everyday and I really don’t know what I am doing wrong as a writer to not see such success. I feel like I am at a roadblock and cannot bring myself to write well anymore due to it. How can I get over this jealousy?

Oh Nonnie, I wish I had the answer for you.

I’ll start by saying that I think all of us on this site struggle from time to time with these frustrating thoughts. Myself especially.

First, let me start by encouraging you to remember why you write in the first place. I know notes and feedback are something we all crave but at the end of the day, your writing needs to fuel you, not the notes.

Second, tumblr’s algorithm is…*sigh* it’s frustrating. I’ve actually studied it a little bit In grad school. The coding they use, the search engine that barely works. It’s no favor to creators and we just have to soldier throughout most of the time.

Third, if you need to take a break do it. Sometimes a roadblock is just that and we need to let ourselves feel those feelings before we can move forward.

My only other piece of advice is to just not be afraid to put yourself out there. I get a million times more enjoyment out of posting dumb pictures and reblogging other peoples work then I do from a note count.

But most of all remember you are not alone. It’s easy to feel that way on the internet sometimes but it’s so far from the truth. And my inbox is alway open 🖤

#cat answers #cat tries to give advice #chin up nonnie

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breitzbachbea · 2 years

Note

(For that ask game)

I wish you would write a fic where...Sadik and Herakles consider adopting a child

yes this is Exi speaking

You know what, I think I could have Sherlock Holmes'd who this ask is from. It's very on brand. (Also, you don't have to hide behind the little grey face.)

I wish you would write a fic where…

(BTW, I provide the links to the original posts so that if anyone else stumbles over the ask can reblog the post OR send me another one. Doesn't matter if it is an old ask game, I am always happy to share my thoughts and interact with others. Even if I cannot promise a timely answer.)

Ho boy, va be'. If I am fair with you, I'd not even give these who fuckers, out of all the ships, a kid in the Hetaverse. At least not in the interpretation of them and their relationship that I follow. (It's mostly how sadlygrove portrays them in their fics). Now, there is very few people I'd also give a kid in LFLS, even if I might think they'll make great parents in another context. But Herakles and Sadık are near the absolute bottom of the list of people who should have kids together. I'm currently writing the 4th Part of my TurGre Fanfic "The Amulet" and these two can't even keep their shit together for their fellow friends. Not in a million years. It's just not going to work out in a way that'll be healthy and good for the children or anyone involved.

However: They do have children in the "Testa di Moro" AU. Here's the post about that one. Herakles and Sadık are happily married with a boy and a girl in that one - too bad they end up half-orphaned due to Michele's vanity.

I can totally see them adopting kids in my Constantinople AU though. (Here is the post for that one and if you haven't checked it out yet, you absolutely should because I am sooo proud of that one). Some more thoughts on that and parental TurGre under the cut.

The question of succession in that AU has crossed my mind before, wondering if maybe the offspring of the closest relative of Herakles would then be next in line. You know, there would have needed to be something in place if in this AU, gay marriage is viable. Briefly also considered if one of Herakles many, many half-siblings could be electable, but the problem with that is that there's simply too many. So why not adoption?

I have no idea about childhood and specifically imperial childhood in 14th century Byzantium or Seljuk/Ottoman Turks. Since the AU is however Alternate History mixed with some feel good, basic fantasy, I'll just go ahead with the "Parents that love their kids and are intimiately, hands-on involved with them" 18th century middle class idea. (I am not saying that non-Western or prior families do not love their kids or spouses nor that already back then parents huddled their kids that much, but I would say that this modern, classically Western view of the nuclear family has its roots there. Just so we are all on the same page with tooth rotting, anachronistic fluff). Also, I choose Eirene and Theophania, because 1) Their name meanings (Peace and Manifestation of God) are pretty dope 2) Both were names borne by members of the Byzantine Imperial families (Theophanu was also the name of the Byzantine wife of Otto II of the HRE and she's one of my favourite medieval women) 3) Sadık is already on thin ice with the people of Constantinople at times, so to demonstrate some good will, both of the girls have proper Greek names. I suppose both of them are also Greek or at least not Turkish, but who knows. It's politics, ya know.

Sword still at his hips and clothes still dirty, Sadık stepped into living quarters of the palace. He'd have to do something about the dirt before the council meeting later in the day; honestly, after his return from the campaign, he craved a bath more than anything else -- "Baba!" All of his physical aches were forgotten, even the dirt that hung to his uniform, when he heard the excited voices and fast steps of his daughters. He merely had enough time to hunker down on one knee when Eirene and Theopania jumped him. "Hey, hey, girls, be careful with baba's sword," he said and moved th sword a little away from them while they still giggled and squealed into his neck, shoulders and chest. Now he wrapped both arms around them and held them close. "So, how are my girls? Oh, I'm so happy to have you back." He squeezed them, one arm around each one. "We've missed you, baba!" Eirene said while Theophania only buried her face in his shoulder. "I missed you too." He kissed first Eirene and then Theophania on the hair. "My darling princesses." He patted Theophania on the back. "Now, now, baba's still all dirty from travel, get your pretty face out of there." Theophania only shook her head, dug her hands deeper into his uniform and Sadık chuckled. He gently loosened his grip on Eirene to slip one hand each under Theophania's armpits and pick her up to set her on his knee. She immediately leaned her head against his shoulder and buried one hand his uniform again. Her eyes were closed, almost squeezed shut. One arm around each girl's waist, Sadık bobbed the leg Theophania sat on. "Hmm, what's the matter, Theo? What's wrong?" Theo didn't answer. "We missed you," Eirene reiterated and when Sadık looked at her, there was a bright and eager sparkle in her eyes, a whole radiance to her excited face. "You know, we also worried. And, and, you've been gone for so long and we have sooo much to show you. And, we learnt new things with our teachers! So, we started reading this new text and it's really, really old!" She beamed with pride at him. "Oh, wow! What clever girls I have," he said and ruffled through her hair. "What's the text?" "It's uh ... It's ... It's really old and Greek and ... one of those! One of those babás reads! He read with us! He said he's really proud of us and that he's gonna teach us, too!" "Mhm, speaking of that, where's your babás?" He shortly looked to Theophania. She had loosened her grip and half-opened her eyes. "He's in the library, at a council meeting with the officials," Eirene explained. "He said we could go and play as long as he's busy." "Ah, yes." He gently nudged Theophania off his thigh, who seemed real hesitant to use her own two legs to stand on. When she finally did, Sadık knelt and grabbed both of his daughters tight, to stand up with one on each arm. "How about we go into the gardens while we wait for babás to be done with the council, hm? How does that sound, Theo?" "Mhm," Theophania said. "I want to go into the gardens." Sadık kissed her on the cheek. "Good, then we'll do that." "Baba, your beard itches," Theophania mumbled. "Hey, well, I didn't want to waste time this morning getting dolled up when I was so close to getting back home to you," he said and she giggled.

Sitting by a basin in the gardens, Eirene was talking about a trip they had been taken on by Dilan, much to their teacher's displeasure. The story greatly amused Sadık however, who could picture the teacher's upset reaction and reasoning quite well upon his students being taken on an interdimensional trip to the great places he could only lecture about. Theophania watched the fish in the basin. "Timothea said that you would come back when I asked her, but I didn't believe her," Theophania suddenly said and he turned to his daughter. "Huh?" "I asked Timothea and Omar every day if you'd come back and ... and they said they couldn't see the future but ask the Jinns and then they said that everything is okay ... but I didn't believe them, because I was scared that you wouldn't come back." So that's what had been eating away at her. Sadık turned to her and picked her up to sit her on his thigh again. "Hey, Theo, no need to worry about that. Baba will always come back, no matter what. And if Thea and Omar tell you so, you have to believe them. They know stuff, you know?" He poked her nose, but she only looked at him with brows knitted in worry. "But I'm scared that you won't," she said. "Like, they said they can't see the future, so ... what if they don't know? I don't want you to ... I want that you come home." He stroked her hair and pressed her head against his chest. "Oh Theooo, you shouldn't worry about your baba. Fathers are there to worry about their kids, not the other way around. Were you worried sick the entire time I was gone?" "She was!" Eirene said at the same time that Theophania nodded, tears in her eyes. "Hey, don't cry, it's okay ... I'm here ... We're all here, your sister, your fathers, everything is alright, hm?" He kissed her on the hair and let her cry into his chest. It went on for a few minutes. Eirene's tries to cheer Theophania up weren't very successful, so that he told her to simply leave her sister be. "Why don't you go and take a little walk, a little look elsewhere?" Sadık asked Eirene, who kicked the air with a bored pout. "Go visit the new animal that you brought back from your trip. Me and Theo will join soon." "Okay!" Life had immediately returned to the girl and she jumped to her feet before she ran down one of the paths and disappeared behind the bushes. It didn't take long for her to return in company. "Oh, finally done talking, your Highness?" Sadık asked Herakles with a grin. "For now." Herakles carried Eirene on his arm. "Seems like you came straight from the camp." "Well, I've been ambushed as soon as I stepped into the palace, so I didn't have time to change yet." They chuckled together about that. "Mohammed just arrived and I was showing him around the gardens, since there's still time until the next council. He's still looking at the ... peculiar speciman that Dilan and the girls brought back." "Oh, wasn't that what we and Theo were gonna do?" Sadık looked at Theophania, whose tears had finally dried out. "What do you think of that, Theo? You want to tell Mohammed about the animal?" Theophania nodded. She even smiled at him and Sadık smiled back. "Alright." He kissed her on the cheek, which made her giggle and got up. "Baba! Your beard still itches!" "Shut up or I'll kiss you again!" He threatened, which only increased the giggling. "I'm not joking!" "You're still a clown," Herakles said as he slowly turned to go. "If I were you, big shot, I'd also shut up, or you're next," Sadık said and Herakles snorted while they ambled through the gardens, two giggling girls on their arms.

#beareplies #hetalia #hws #aph #aph greece #hws greece #aph turkey #hws turkey #turgre #turgre hetalia #hetalia au #I hope everyone enjoyed the toothrotting fluff that is what the Constantinople AU is honestly for #like. sometimes i just want the kids to be sappy and happy.#i do enjoy domestic turgre mightily but it is HARD to pull off right i think #because you do have to incorporate still that they had an incredibly complicated history.#it can never be cookie cutter toothless stuff. i think turgre as a ship is hard to master.#but it is so worth it.#domestic turgre in the hetaverse i mean. AU wise can be a bit easier but you still don't want to go completely toothless.

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coloraturadiva · 4 years

Text

A mistake - Chapter 3

Pairing: Napoleon Solo x F!Reader (You)

Summary: Napoleon realises he had made a mistake

Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Warnings: angst, fluff, pregnancy (I’m sure I forgot something...)

Word Count: 2692

A/N: a special thank you to my lovely beta @iloveyouyen ! This is the third and last chapter of this story, I hope you’ll like it 😉

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

Feedback, reblogs and constructive criticism are appreciated!

Please don't post any of my content anywhere else without my permission. Comments and reblogs welcome!

Tagging some people that never asked for it and others that actually did: @iloveyouyen @littlefreya @aletheladyinred @madbaddic7ed @promptandpros @mrsaugustwalker @jencanbeyouryengeralt @radaofrivia @henrythickcavill @ladyreapermc @mary-ann84 @onlyhenrys @qualitynightkoala @eefjedegraaf @summersong69 @minillamakeup-blog @trippedmetaldetector @maan24 @bichibibi @rn7rocks

Knock knock

“What are you doing here?”

There he was. You had heard no words from him for the past 2 weeks. As he said, he came to the house the day after he left to collect his things when you were at work and left his keys in the mailbox.

Now he stood on your doorstep looking like he was the one suffering from morning sickness. He was looking terrible, not his usual spit and polish self. Pale, his lips dehydrated, the eyes dull and puffy, the hair messy: he looked like he had aged 20 years in 14 days.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course” you felt unsure about his intentions, but you let him in nevertheless . “This is still your house anyway”. You didn't hear a word from him or his lawyer. You had expected a phone call or even papers delivered to you in a couple of days, but nothing happened, and you thought that he had been whisked away on a mission before having the time to arrange the situation with a lawyer.

“What do you want?” you asked him, not daring to look at him in the eye, fearing you'd burst out crying. You had cried so much during the past weeks that you thought you had no more tears in you, but his sudden appearance made you feel teary all over again.

“I left two very important things there” he answered in a soft, but raspy tone. Even his voice didn't sound like it used to be.

“Really?” you tried to sound polite, even if a million of different emotions were raging in your head: anger, fear, sorrow, loneliness, the urge to kiss him one last time... “What? I haven't seen anything...”

“My wife and my baby”.

“What?” your head span. You didn't trust your legs and went to sit on the closest seat you could find: an armchair in the parlour.

He followed you, terrified. His face turned even paler than before.

“What happened? Are you unwell?” he kneeled in front of you, his voice trembled with worry.

Your head snapped up. You looked at him in the eye for a second and... slapped him. You slapped him with all the force you had in your body. Maybe slapping a CIA agent wasn't the best idea for your safety, but you couldn't help yourself. He had to steady himself on the nearby sofa not to fall.

“YOU IDIOT! You come here out of nowhere after having left your PREGNANT wife and you even have the courage to ask me what happened and if I am unwell?! Of course I'm unwell, you broke my heart!” you were flushed, your breath laboured.

He looked at you wide eyed.

“I'm so sorry...” he began in a pleading tone, looking at his hands: he was still wearing his wedding band. Like you. “I panicked. I fucked it all up big time. I know I don't deserve to ask for anything and I'll understand if you won't get me back, but I had to try. I couldn't let go of everything we have built this way. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing I hadn't tried to get you back.”

“You did, all with your hands” you retorted bitterly.

“I know. And I'm the most stupid and undeserving man in the world. But I'm madly in love with you and I can't let you go for any reason.”

“Except an unwanted child” you bashed him.

He bowed his head.

“I... I wasn't expecting it. Coming home and seeing you with a bump...”

“No, you never wanted it, it's not the surprise factor. That would have caused you to stay speechless, to panic for ten minutes, to say something stupid, not to leave me in less than two minutes, without giving me the opportunity to explain, with those bitter words.”

“Bitter words?” he asked lost.

“I knew a baby would have come to separate us. That's what you said. It's not the baby's fault! How can it be? It's your fault! You went away treating me like a broken object, without even looking at me. Not even an animal deserves to be treated that way! And you started to talk about divorce papers in less than three seconds after having realised I was pregnant. That broke my heart, you know that? That physically broke my heart! That evening I thought I was gonna die right on the floor, where you had left me! And why did you do that? Because things weren’t going like you wanted, because I displeased you! How awful! And it happened ONCE. Once in all the years we have been together! Well, sorry, but I was not born with the sole purpose to please your cravings and your ego, I’m human too and I have my interests and my wishes as well. You always knew, from the very start, that I wanted to build a family with you, but you were so obsessively against the idea of having kids that I renounced my own wishes because I wanted to be with you. I’m sure you believe that I did get pregnant on purpose, but I didn’t do it, I swear. I was as surprised as you when I found out. I’m not the one that goes behind other people's backs, you are... So you wanted to punish me for something that’s not my fault, or, at least, is your fault as well. Of course! You are the important one here, while I’m the stupid, lovesick woman that offended you by getting pregnant, but I’ll never feel sorry about loving my baby! You can’t throw away people like a broken toy because things aren’t going like you have planned. I won’t accept it.”

He felt ashamed of himself like he never felt in his whole life. Stealing, the black market, spying, that was nothing compared to what he had done to you without even realizing.

“And you know what's the worst part of it?” you continued. “That I loved you. I kept on loving you anyway. Even if you had treated me so bad, I couldn't bring myself to hate you. Hating you would have made everything easy, but it was impossible. When I arrived home after work the day after you left, I hoped to find you there, or at least that you hadn't come to take away your things. That would have meant that you were in doubt, that you were still thinking about it. But when I arrived home, I saw that all was gone. Your wardrobe was empty, your drawers were empty, your library was empty, even the comforting smell of you was gone from this house. My heart broke yet again. It was really the end...”

You started sobbing, all the emotions of the past weeks washed over you at once. You felt overwhelmed.

"Do you want to know why I left?" he asked looking at the floor after having taken a deep breath. "Because I'm scared…"

"Oh, don't tell me!" you answered sarcastically. "The hero, the great secret agent is scared of a baby! Please, I'm not that stupid…"

"I'm not scared OF a baby." He whispered. "I'm scared FOR the baby. And for you".

"What?" you asked not getting his point. What was to be scared about? Women get pregnant and babies are born everyday. It's normal, it's natural.

"I… I've always been worried about your safety…" he hesitated. "You know who I am, you know what I have done, you know what I do… I can't control everything, I can't be here to protect you all the time. I'm constantly worried that one day someone could decide to seek revenge against me by hurting you. It's something that has been burning me from the inside since the very first time I saw you. I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt because of me. You don't deserve it, it's not right. I've done my fair share of bad things, but you are innocent, you shouldn't be in this mess… But you are right, I'm an egoist. Even if I wanted you to be safe, I loved you too much, I wanted you to be mine… Even if it was a risk for you… That's why I never wanted a baby. Thinking of you being in danger is already a big hardship for me, but a baby… That's too much. That's not a life for a baby. I know very well how it hurts you having me to stay away on missions all that time, not knowing if I'll come back all in one piece. That's wrong. A baby and a young mother shouldn't be living like that… That's why I panicked, that's why I left. I thought that with me gone, maybe you could have been safe, you could have built a new and better life for the two of you. Maybe with a better man… That’s it. I panicked and in my head, going away was a way to protect you..." he paused for long minutes, playing nervously with his wedding ring. "What can I do to make amends?” he begged. “Please, tell me.”

You kept on crying. You had no idea. You loved him, but he had hurt you so much you didn't know what you really wanted.

He was devastated. Seeing you crying, so trembling and fragile and all because of him made him feel physically sick.

He didn't think too much about it, or at the consequences: he went to sit on the armrest of the armchair and took you into his arms. He didn't move, he didn't caress you, he just held you still.

At first you were stiff, unsure about the unexpected contact, but soon enough you melted in his arms. It felt so good to be back where you felt you belonged after such a long time. You were unsure if you could ever forgive him, but you also knew that you couldn't live without him.

“What made you change your mind?” you suddenly asked in a whisper. “Why did you come here today?”

“You. Both of you.” He hesitated, his voice trembled. He sounded deeply emotional. “I mean, I love you. It's you, it's our baby. I don't want you to be with another man… I want to see our baby grow… I know it's a risk and I don’t know if I can protect you, but at least I want to try. I can't let you go… "

“Our baby” you sobbed.

“Yes, of course you were right. Like you are always right. It takes two to make a baby. I can't blame everything on you. I'm sure I did my part… I’m just a scared idiot, but I love you. It only took me too long to realise how much I love you and how important you and the baby are for me. More important than my fears.”

“The baby as well?”

“Yes, the baby as well. I love both of you so much”.

You sighed. He sounded like he meant his words. He sounded like himself again. A tired Napoleon, but your Napoleon.

“I... Your... Your grandmother visited me.”

“My grandmother? How? I don't know where you are staying now. How does she?”

“She probably has been a secret agent for all her life and never told a soul. I can't find a different explanation” he smiled. “Her methods are also quite... effective. I was there, tormenting myself to decide when was the best moment to come to you, if today was too soon, or already too late, when she knocked on my door, stormed in and gave me a lecture. She talked for 15 minutes straight, I think. She didn't let me say a word. And she beat me with her walking stick.”

“WHAT?”

“I told you her methods are effective. I said something that displeased her, and she wanted to make it clear.”

“You probably deserved it...”

“Indeed. I deserved that and your slap too.”

“You had already decided to come back before her visit?” you changed the subject.

“Yes. Two days after I left you, when I found myself with all my things in a house that wasn't ours and without you and having left you alone, I realised that I made the biggest mistake of my life.”

“That was nearly two weeks ago...”

“I know, but I didn't have the courage to come, I had no idea what to say...”

“And waiting made a difference?”

“Yes, because the more the days passed, the more I was sure that I missed you and that leaving you alone wasn’t the best way to keep you and the baby safe. I realised that I made a big mistake. Not being with you was a mistake… By leaving you I was only hurting you, not protecting you...”

You both fell silent. One secretly praying to not have ruined it all with his own hands, the other reflecting on her feelings, trying to understand if forgiveness was an option.

“Could you ever forgive me?” he asked tentatively after several minutes, still holding you in his arms.

“No.”

He froze. He felt like he had been slapped again. But more forcefully, this time.

“I already did. The moment I let you in, I had already subconsciously forgiven you. I love you too much to live without you, I want to have you there with me. And you came back to me...” you sighed. “You know I can't stay mad at you for too long...” you softly smiled.

“Even after what I did?” he still didn't dare to look you in the eye.

“Even after what you did... I would like to believe that I'm doing it for the baby's sake, but the truth is that I'm doing it for myself. I'm terribly greedy when it comes to you.”

He dared to kiss you on the top of your head. You didn't resist.

It felt so good. It felt simply right.

You suddenly disentangled from his arms and got up from the armchair. You started to walk away.

Napoleon was startled. What was happening? Why did you start to move so suddenly? The kiss was too much?

“Come with me”. He heard your voice from the corridor and bolted in your direction.

He caught up with you in the guest room.

You turned to face him, standing close to a big box.

"Yesterday I saw this crib in a shop and even if it's a bit early, I had to buy it. But I'll need your help to put it together" you smiled weakly.

Napoleon looked at the big box. It was white, decorated with cute pastel green Teddy bears. He always had a penchant for beautiful (and expensive) things, he was an expert in art and antiquities anyway, and was used to treating himself with ridiculously expensive clothes, but had never paid attention to these kinds of things, thinking they would never interest him. However, right now that box looked to him as magnificent as a Raffaello painting.

He neared you gingerly, afraid of doing something wrong.

"Are you sure?”

“Yes. I want to put this crib together with you. And all the rest of the things for the baby. And us. I want us to be together...” you trailed off.

“I miss you”.

“I miss you too.”

You looked down at your growing belly.

“Come here” you threw your arms around his neck. One of Napoleon's hands went instinctively to your belly. You looked carefully at his face. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, but was trying hard not to break apart in front of you.

“How are you?” he sounded suddenly concerned about your health. “How do you feel?”

You cupped his cheek.

“I'm good now” you smiled at him.

“I'm sorry. For everything” he uttered, deep affliction clearly ringing in his voice. "You'll be safe. Both of you. I promise…"

“I know” you answered softly. “Let's forget about the past weeks, shall we? Let's start anew from today.”

“I love you Y/N”.

“I love you Napoleon”.

Thanks to everyone who read my story and made it to the end! 😘

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #napoleon solo #napoleon solo fanfic #fanfic #fan fiction #the man from uncle #napoleonxreader #napoleonsoloxreader #napoleon solo x reader #napoleon solo x you #xyou #napoleon solo x female!reader #female!reader #female reader #wrinting

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patchofsunlight · 3 years

Text

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

hey everyone!! i’m finally home!! and i’m,,, super late to this appreciation post thing but i’d really like to thank everyone here for this year. i really can’t put into words how important starting this blog was for me, so i’ll just settle for a thank you.

to my followers, who always made me feel loved and important. thank you for every comment, like, and reblog. i never will be quite able to understand why so many people follow my blog and read my writing but i’m really glad you all do. i’m really, really grateful for all of you. thank you for being around (no matter how much present you were, i see you, and i appreciate you) and for making my life so much better this year.

to my anons, that make me smile with their little messages and snippets of their daily life. i appreciate all of you so, so much. the mere thought of people actively wanting to talk to me like that makes me swoon, and i’m not kidding when i say talking to you all makes me incredibly happy, and i wait excitedly for all new updates, new asks, new stories, and i always miss you when you’re gone for too long. thank you so, so much for being my friends. ily mwah

to my mutuals, thank you for putting up with me LMAOOO okay okay for real tho, i appreciate and admire each of you so much. god you’re all so TALENTED and AMAZING and FUNNY and seeing you show up on my dash makes me happy every time. i love all of you no matter how much we actually talk to each other. you guys make me feel glad i exist every day. thank you so much for being a part of my life, and for being my friends. i love you!!!!

to @shegosato, you know how much you mean to me. you know how much i cherish all our little talks and laughs and just- everything. jenny, i appreciate you so, so much. since the first day we ever talked, you quickly became a person incredibly important in my life, someone i crave to talk to all the time. you’re so talented and smart and just— UGH INCREDIBLE and i love you so much. so much. thank you for being my friend this year. i’m really grateful that you exist. i love you.

to @firebendersimp, i don’t even know where to start. talking to you and laughing with (and at hehe) you is probably one of my favorite things in the world. cat, you never fail to make my day brighter. i’m so happy to have known you this year. i hope we can keep on annoying each other for a LONG, long time, because not a lot of things make me happier than joking around with you. i love you baby!!! you’re so talented and beautiful and i love you very, very much.

to @randomfangirl82, BABYYYY UGH I LOVE YOU. SO MUCH. you were my first ever mutual in this hellsite and i’m really glad it was you — that out of so many people in the internet, it was you. i love you. you’re so talented. i’m so proud of you, so proud. ily, erin!!! very very much, okay?? don’t forget that.

to @alittlebitofcinnamon, i appreciate you so much wtf....... emma you’re just the SWEETEST and i adore you. i really do. mwah hope you’re doing well!!! ily!!!

to @bbykutos, thank you so much for all the love and support you’ve shown me this year. you’re so talented and i’m so glad you’re my friend, for real. i hope you’re doing well and i’m excited for you to come back from your hiatus, because the world CANNOT go on without your top tier writing. ily!!!

to @azucanela, honey!!! honey!!!!!!! god you are SO talented. SO talented. i’m so impressed every time i read anything you write, oh my god. you’re just— canela, you’re so funny and talented and nice and fun to talk to and i adore you. i do. talking to you always makes me happy and i’m excited to talk to you even more this year. i love you.

to @strawberry-tea, i love you!!!!!!!! i love you!!!!!!!! the support!!!!!! the love!!!!! your earrings!!!!!! god i love your earrings!!!!!!!! poppy!!!!!! how do i even begin to tell you how much i appreciate you!!! you!!! all our asks!!! all our talks!!! all your comments!!!!! god i love you so much. i really do. *blows a kiss to the wind* it’s for poppy. *blows a hug to the wind* it’s also for poppy

to @kiedhara, my emotional support and drinking water reminder <3 LMAOO HEIDY YOU’RE,,,, THE BEST!!! you’re incredible and i love you so much and your opinion always means so much to me. thank you so much for being my friend. you genuinely make me so happy and i’m so glad we became friends. i love you.

to @simpinforsukka, you’re the funniest, hottest shit in this site, and i’ll fight people on it. EJKGBEIUFB LMAO brenda ily. i do. hope you’re doing well. we haven’t talked in a while but i love you. thank you for being my friend mwah

to @ray-ofmoonlight, a thousand heart emojis. a million heart emojis. all the heart emojis. i love you so much. your asks back when you were my anon made me so happy, and i loved talking to you. i still do. moonie, you’re such an incredible, talented, hard-working person, and i admire you so much. thank you for being my friend. i love you

to @xxoperatexx, LOVE LOVE LOVE!!! I LOVE YOU!! I LOVE YOU!!! you’re the best ily mwah mwah mwah

to @call-me-maybe-call-me-cola and @loversamongus, i love both of you more than i could ever express. talking to both of you just makes my DAY, and playing among us with you is always just the biggest fun ever. cola, thank you for never failing on making me laugh, never failing on making me happy. wave, thank you for being one of the funniest, kindest people i know. you were one of my first anons ever and you mean so, so much to me. you always will. thank you for being in my life, both of you. i love you <3

to @samsmultifandomblogs, MY FIRST EVER ANON WHATTTT i know we don’t talk as much anymore but your support got me through so much shit, it really did, and i have no words to thank you for it. ily. thank you so much.

to @skylightlantern, my little light in the dark. lia, i love you so much that not even timezones can keep us apart. you’re such a talented, sweet, incredible person, and i’m so glad to have you in my life. you have no idea how much you mean to me and how much i appreciate every single thing you do or say. thank you for being my friend, thank you for being in my life. i love you <3

i might have forgotten some people but, either way, know that i appreciate everyone in this hellsite. i love you guys!!! and i’m bad at making appreciation posts i’m so sorry. hope you all have an amazing 2021!!! let’s fucking GO Y’ALL LET’S FUCKING GO

#nina talks

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