#... as you can tell I am going through a Time.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Mo' Money Mo' Problems

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: Asking for help has always been hard for you, but when you aren't left with another option, your recently drafted NFL boyfriend comes to your rescue

Pairing: Boyfriend!Joe Burrow x Girlfriend!Reader

Requested: by a gorgeous anon 😍

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Erin looked at you as you sat down across from her and sighed. This had been going on for the past week and you had now given yourself a headache trying to figure out what you were going to do.

“Call your boyfriend.” Erin told you as she threw your phone for you to catch it, but you quickly shook your head no as you caught it before it hit the floor.

“I am not calling him.”

“And why NOT?” She exclaimed and looked at you as if you were crazy.

“Because this is my problem and I'm going to deal with it. I don't have to run to him for every little thing.”

“YOUR BOYFRIEND PLAYS IN THE NFL! AS A QUARTERBACK! Or did you suddenly forget?”

“Just because he plays in the NFL doesn't mean I’m going to take advantage of that.” You said as you crossed your arms.

“Bestie, I love you but you fucking annoy me so much sometimes. So let me ask you this, Joe doesn't have a problem asking you for sex correct?”

“What in the world are you getting at?”

“Answer my question.”

“No, he doesn't.”

“And he fucks you raw simply because you had a fucking pregnancy scare two semesters ago when he won the Heisman.”

“Erin, get to the point already. I was scared out of my damn mind.” You replied as you rolled your eyes.

“My point is that you shouldn't have a problem asking your boyfriend who fucks you raw for money. At the very LEAST like bare minimum he can give you a little cash.”

“I get it but..”

“Uh no you obviously don't. And you know how he is. First thing out of his mouth is going to be why didn't you tell him. I'm convinced that man would drink your bath water if you let him.”

“I swear you get on my nerves.”

“Welp been doing that since we were three and that's not changing any time soon.”

“I don't know. I feel kind of weird asking people for anything. Like not just him and I’ve always been like that.” You said as you got up to go into your kitchen with Erin following close behind.

“It's not like he's going to want you to pay him back. I guarantee you that he'll give it to you without a second thought. You never know unless you try. Surprised he hasn't put your name on the bank account yet.”

“Something is wrong with you.”

“Bitch, don't act like he's not going to put a ring on your finger. Surprised he didn't do it our first semester.” Erin told you as you turned to look in the freezer for ground turkey to make homemade burgers for the two of you.

“Yes, obviously but not yet.”

“He is literally just waiting for you to graduate to do it.”

“And how do you know all this?” You asked as you began to cut up red onion along with some green bell peppers.

“I just do and like I said, he would drink your bath water.”

“Ew, Erin that's nasty.”

“Just calling it like I see it. But if you don't fix this in 48 hours when your rent is due, I'm calling Joe.”

Twenty four hours later you were finally lying down in your bed after a long and exhausting day, your phone rang indicating a facetime call coming through and you rolled over onto the other side to answer it. When your boyfriend's face came into view, you instantly smiled.

“Hi my love.” You quietly said and wrapped yourself tighter in the blankets that were covering you while propping up your phone.

“Hey baby doll. How was your day?” He asked while it looked like he was sitting up against the headboard.

“Hmm, long. I've been up since 4 in the morning. But you know I never pass up an opportunity to talk to you. I miss you.”

“I miss you too and Erin called me.”

“What? Why?”

She literally only gave you 24 hours and not 48 like she promised.

“You tell me. Something going on that I should know about?” Joe asked and you continued to look at him confused.

“Uh, not that I can think of.”

“Let me ask you this then. Have you paid your rent this month for your condo?”

“No and I have no idea why she called you. I told her I would take care of it.”

“Because you miscalculated your bills for this month and they added a whole bunch of fees and you decided to suffer instead of calling your boyfriend for help.”

“I…”

“Is that it?”

“I didn't want to bother you.” You quietly said and Joe just looked at you.

“Seriously? When are you ever bothering me? I have another question for you.”

“Yes?”

“You plan on being with me for a long time, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you know that I'm going to take care of you right? Especially when you graduate and move up here.”

“Yes.”

“So, why wouldn't I take care of you now?”

“I know you will, but if I can do it on my own, I'm going to try to.”

“But I'm here and you don't have to. Aren't you a WAG now?” Joe asked as he smiled at you.

“I want to be the W and not the G.” You replied without skipping a beat.

“Who’s to say that I don't already have your ring?”

“Well, my finger is still bare so? What does that do for me?” You told him as you held it up so he could see your hand.

“Touché, princess.” Joe told you as he smirked.

“Mm hmm, that's what I thought.”

“But next time you come up here we're picking out a house.”

“I…”

“Me and my future wife along with my future kids need a place to live so we can start looking. Or we can have it built, your choice."

“And a new car, mine is on its last leg.”

“Name it and it's yours. That goes for whatever else you want to.”

“NO! I'm going to get it! You are not going bankrupt buying someone who is not even your wife expensive things.”

“You ARE my wife; it's just not on paper yet.” He told you as he shrugged while your cheeks began to heat up.

“Babeeeee.”

“What? I'm not saying anything that isn't true. And besides, I'm not spending any money from my contract. Just my endorsement deals. But back to our original problem, you're good for the rest of the year.”

“I… JOEY! That was like 4,000 dollars!”

“Money is not a factor when it comes to you. If you need it, I'm getting it. So can we move on?”

"Fine, while I have you in a giving mood, I want an elephant." You replied and Joe simply gave you a blank stare.

"Best I can do is the Cincinatti Zoo, you gotta work with me here."

"Well, you said 'name it and it's yours'."

"Baby, I meant within reason and an elephant is not within reason."

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 10

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this. Labour.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 10 of 12!

“Breathe,” Victoria kept insisting.

“You are doing so well, Choupinette,” her mother cooed.

Colette was quite certain that she was going to die. 

At least it felt like it.

The pain was overwhelming. It didn’t feel like her body could take any more of it. The contractions were so strong and the pain was blinding in its intensity. She wasn’t certain if she could do this anymore.

“I can’t do this,” Colette choked out.

“Yes, you can,” Victoria insisted. Her voice was firm and steady. “You absolutely can do this. You’re already so far along, you just have to push. You can do this.”

"Just breathe," her mother said soothingly, stroking back her hair. "You are doing so well."

But she wasn’t doing well. 

She wanted Max. No, she needed Max.

She needed him so badly. She didn’t want to do this by herself. 

Colette cried out in pain as another very strong contraction hit her, clenching her teeth through it. "Max," she sobbed. "I need Max."

"I know," Victoria said, stroking her hand. "I know you do. But you can do this. Just a little bit longer, okay? It won’t be long now."

She didn’t want to do this without him. But what other choice did she have?

A strangled sob escaped her throat as she clutched her mother’s hand desperately as another contraction hit.

“We’re going to need you to push now,” the doctor said firmly. “You need to start pushing with the contractions.”

Colette cried out in pain as she tried her very best to push like they were telling her to. The pain was blinding in its intensity. But it hurt. Gods, it hurt more than anything that she had ever experienced. It was like her body was about to rip itself in half.

"You’re doing so well," her mother cooed.

"Keep Pushing."

Another strangled scream escaped her. "Max," she sobbed. "I need Max. I need him. I can’t do this.”

Victoria stroked her hair. "It’s almost over, Colette. It’s almost over. Just a little bit more," Vic promised her. 

Colette wanted to give up, she wanted to give in. She wanted the pain to end. But more than anything else, she just wanted Max.

Another scream was torn from her, a ragged cry of pain as a particularly severe contraction tore through her. She was certain that she wasn’t going to survive this. The pain was too severe.

"Keep Pushing."

"Keep Pushing."

"Push, Push, Push"

She didn’t understand how they expected her to keep going. She could feel herself flagging, she was so exhausted.

The room was a blur around her, dark spots dancing at the corner of her vision. The sound of her own screams echoed in her ears, the pain almost overwhelming. She thought she was going to pass out.

She heard the door open.

A small part of the pain-hazed part of her mind registered the sound. She thought she was hallucinating. Surely that wasn’t the sound of the door opening. Surely she was just losing her mind under the excruciating strain.

“That took you too fucking long,” Victoria snapped. Colette would have smiled, if she hadn’t been currently in the middle of pushing. Max's familiar voice echoed in her ears, and for one sweet second, the pain all but vanished.

And then he was there.  Her heart jumped and a small sob escaped her. Max. It was really Max. He was there. He was right beside her.

Dry lips pressed against her sweat slick forehead. “Liefje.“

He was there. He was really there. 

"Max," she sobbed out. "You’re here. You’re really here."

"Of course I am," he said shakily. He pushed back her sweaty hair from her forehead. "You didn’t think I was going to let you do this without me, do you?"

She wanted to tell him that, in all honesty, she had thought exactly that. If he hadn’t shown up, she would have had to do this without him. But she was too exhausted, and in too much pain to form the words. All she could do was clutch at his hand, desperately clinging onto him like a lifeline.

Max immediately threaded his fingers through hers, holding her hand tightly. "I’m right here," he soothed. "I’m not going anywhere.” He was giving her something solid to hang onto. 

“Another push,” the doctor encouraged.

With Max holding her hand, Colette gave one last, desperate push.

She was certain that she was going to pass out. She didn’t understand how she was still conscious. The pain was mind-numbing in its intensity. "Once more,” the doctor said firmly. “I can see the head. Just one more push.”

Colette whimpered, her breath coming in short sharp sobs. "I can’t,” she cried in exhaustion. "I can’t."

"You can,” Max said fiercely. “You are the strongest goddamn person I know, and if anyone can do this, it’s you. Just one more push, come on, liefje."

His grip on her hand was so tight, it was almost painful, but that brief moment of pain was worth it. Feeling Max's presence beside her, holding onto her so desperately with his fingers threaded firmly through hers, it was the only thing that gave her the last little bit of strength that she needed.

With a long, ragged scream, she gave one last push, pouring everything she had into it.

She could hear Max beside her, talking to her soothingly, but the words were all blending together. Her senses were slowly fading. "Push, you can do it, you’re almost done." The words were coming at her from all sides now, swirling and echoing amongst the darkness of her hazy vision, and it was all she could do to grip Max’s hand, and listen to the sound of his voice.

And then it was over.

The searing pain suddenly stopped. 

For just a moment, everything was quiet. 

A cry cut through the sudden silence

The sound echoed around them, small and shrill and so very loud in the stillness of the room. A choked gasp of relief escaped Colette as she slumped back against the pillows, utterly exhausted.

"There you go," Max murmured, gently wiping back the hair from her forehead. "It’s over, it’s over now. You did so well, liefje. You’ve done it."

She wanted to speak, to say something to him in return, but her tongue was so heavy in her mouth it would hardly form words. Her mind was still a blur of exhaustion, relief and adrenaline. All she could muster was a small whimper as she felt his hand gently stroking her hair.

The sound of the infant’s cries rang out again, more strongly this time. “Here,” the doctor said, sounding a little amused. “Let’s get that little girl on maman’s chest.”

Through the haze, Colette felt an immense amount of exhausted relief, as the doctor carefully placed a small, wiggling bundle on her chest.

The baby was beautiful. Small and new and perfect, and Colette felt like the very breath had been knocked out of her. All the exhaustion and the pain was suddenly entirely worth it as she cradled the tiny baby in her arms.

"Hello, bébé," she breathed softly, the words coming out as a whisper. “I thought you were going to be a boy,” she choked 

A broad smile covered her face as she gently stroked the downy soft tufts of dark hair covering the baby’s head. The small, tiny, perfect little fingers wrapped around her own, and Colette’s heart felt so full it felt like it was going to burst.

"I was right," Max said, the words somewhat choked. His voice sounded almost strangled, and she didn’t need to look to know that there were tears running down his face.

Colette looked up at him then, taking in with a mixture of affection and amusement how utterly awestruck he looked. He was crying openly, tears running unashamedly down his cheeks.

“We did it,” she told Max.

“We did,” He said, his voice still choked with emotion. “She’s so beautiful.” Max sounded utterly wrecked.

Colette couldn’t help but share his feelings as she looked back down at the baby in her arms. The small infant had opened her eyes for a brief moment, revealing the most vividly blue eyes that Colette had ever seen. “She got your eyes.”

“And your hair,” Max said, reaching out a hesitant hand to touch the soft dark locks on the baby’s head.

The baby gave a little gurgle, waving her tiny hand as if to reach out for his fingers. “Hello, mooi meisje,” he said softly, his voice still sounding a little choked, as the baby tried to wrap her fingers around his own.

"She's absolutely perfect," Colette whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from the tiny, perfect bundle of joy in her arms.

"Just like her mother," Max said, his voice hoarse. He stroked his finger down the baby's soft cheek, the most gentle of touches.

***

In the end…he made it with minutes to spare.

He couldn’t describe the relief that he felt when he finally burst through the door, to find Colette in the midst of giving birth. He had been so terrified that he wouldn’t make it in time.

And now here he was, sitting beside her on the bed, their daughter in her arms, safe and sound and utterly, utterly perfect.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of them both. Colette was beautiful, despite looking utterly exhausted. Her face was pale and slick with sweat, but she had never look more lovely.

And their daughter… Their daughter was perfect. Tiny, and new, the sweetest thing that Max had ever seen. He gently ran his finger down her soft, plump cheek, marveling at the sheer fragility of her.

And he couldn't stop crying. This was his family. His.

They had hoped so desperately for so long, and now there was their little girl. And she had been worth it. Worth all the heartbreak.

His eyes stung and his throat was constricting, but he couldn't help it. He knew he must look a mess, tears running unashamedly down his face and throat choked up, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered. They were here, and safe, and together.

He looked down at the baby’s tiny, perfect face, her closed eyes, her nose. She had Colette’s hair, and his eyes, and Max thought that if it was possible to die of love, he was dangerously close to that moment right there.

He reached out a shaking hand to touch his daughter’s tiny fist, his own hand dwarfing hers. She opened her eyes again for a brief second, and he could have sworn that she smiled at him for just an instant.

The tears ran more freely down his face now at that thought. His daughter, his little girl, his precious perfect baby, smiled at him. It might have just been a trick of his own overjoyed emotional state, but right then, Max was convinced that it had been a real smile.

"She's perfect, liefje," he whispered, his words coming out a little choked. "She's so damn perfect.”

"Dad, you want to cut the cord?" the doctor asked him.

The question seemed to take a moment to register in his hazy emotional state, but when it did, Max’s breath caught in his chest for a moment. And then just as quickly, he nodded mutely.

In a daze, he reached for the small pair of scissors that the midwife handed over to him, cutting the umbilical cord under her careful supervision.

He was in a daze, even when they took his daughter from Colette to check her over and bath her. "Stay with her," Colette told him softly. "Go on."

Max nodded, unable to find the words to answer to her. He stood up on slightly shaky legs, watching as the midwife took his daughter over to the small bassinet and started to check her over.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of his baby, tiny and perfect and theirs. All the years of trying, all the hope and the heartbreaks, and now there was their little girl, safe and sound.

He got to watch her be bathed and then swaddled right into a soft pink swaddle that he knew he himself had bought because Colette kept insisting that it was a boy...and then he finally got to hold her in his arms and cry some more, because she was perfect.

He cradled her small, tiny form in his arms, his fingers trembling a little as he gently touched the soft downy skin of her cheek. Her weight was barely anything at all in his arms, and for a moment, terror gripped his heart. Was he holding her too hard? What if he hurt her?

"You aren't going to hurt her," Victoria said suddenly and he stared at his sister that sat down next to her. "You aren't. I promise you. Babies aren't as breakable as they look," she teased him softly. "Congrats, Maxie."

Max nodded, a little startled. He had honestly forgotten that his sister was even there, the arrival of his baby girl had taken up most of his attention.

"Thanks, Vic," he managed, his voice still choked. 

He looked down at the baby in his arms again. They had wrapped her tightly in the pink swaddle that he himself had insisted on months ago. He had been so sure that the baby was a girl. And he had been right.

He wouldn't have cared either way, but...he had been right.

"She's perfect," he whispered, his eyes burning.

Victoria smiled, watching him with a softness in her eyes that Max wasn't sure he had seen before. “You’re a father,” she said simply. “How does it feel?”

“Like my heart’s going to explode with pure happiness,” Max admitted, looking back down at his daughter in his arms. “Like I can’t breathe. Like I’m dreaming. I don’t…I don’t know how to describe it.”

"Welcome to the sleep deprivation community that is parenthood," Vic joked softly. "You are going to be the best father," she told him.

It made him choke up. That absolute certainty with which his little sister said that, a hand on his shoulder. "You are going to be the best father to her," Victoria promised him fiercely.

Fresh tears welled up in his eyes as he looked up at his sister. “I’ll do my best,” he managed to say, his voice a little choked. “I’ll do absolutely anything for her, for both of them. Anything in the world.”

They didn't often talk about their childhood...about all the things that had gone down...the long drawn out screaming matches they could remember before their parents had divorced and the separation that came afterwards...

They didn’t like to talk about it. It was one of those things that they usually just skirted around, because when they brought it up, old feelings and emotions came up with it. And the fights weren’t pleasant to remember...

But in that moment, Max felt a profound sense of relief. For the first time, he was glad those fights had happened, because if they hadn’t…he and Vic wouldn’t have the relationship they had now, and he wouldn’t have learned, from all of the pain and heartbreak of those fights, what not to do. He never wanted his daughter to grow up like that. He never wanted her to feel the pain of a broken family like they had.

And he knew that he would do absolutely everything in his power to prevent that from happening. He and Colette would keep their family tightly together and protect and love their little girl with everything that they had.

No matter what.

A fresh wave of tears welled up in his eyes at the thought of that. "I don't ever want her to grow up like we did, Vic," he managed to say, the words still a little choked. "I don't ever want her to feel like we did."

"She won't," Vic assured him, her voice still soft. "Because you're going to be a great father. She'll grow up feeling loved and wanted and safe. I know that, Maxie."

His throat felt as if it was slowly closing up. "Thanks, bink," he managed to say, his voice cracking. "It means a lot. I..." His eyes stung, and he swallowed hard. "I couldn't ever thank you enough for being here. For being with us."

For coming even when he handn’t asked…for somehow knowing without being told what they needed.

His sister just smiled at him, her blue eyes, so similar to his own, sparkling. "She’s my niece," she reminded him. "You're not getting rid of me. I'm going to spoil her rotten, you know that?"

"You are going to have fierce competition, Victoria" Pascale said softly.

He looked up to where Colette's mother was tucking her own daughter back into the bed, fussing over her. Colette looked better than she had before, freshly showered, still exhausted, but no longer...no longer looking like she was going to faint any minute.

Colette was already sitting up, even though she would be in pain for a while, a testament to her usual stubbornness.

"Maxie." Colette didn't need to say more than that, as he stood and crossed the room, safely putting their daughter back on her mother's chest.

He sat on the edge of her bed, careful not to jostle her too much. "Hey," he said softly, wrapping an arm gently around her shoulders. "How are you feeling, liefje?"

"I'm okay," she said softly, resting her head weakly against him. "Sore. Tired. Happy. Went through 6 hours of labour, only to give birth to your and Charles' clone," she said drily, making her mother laugh.

Max smiled faintly, resting his head against hers. “Charles?” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"She does look awfully similiar," Pascale agreed.

Max gave a small laugh, glancing back down at the baby. He supposed there was a resemblance, if one knew what to look for. “She’s not a clone,” he countered, a note of mock offense in his voice. “She’s a perfect mix of us.”

"With what I am pretty certain is Charles' nose," Colette said drily.

Max laughed faintly, reaching out to gently touch the baby’s tiny nose with his finger. It narrowed just so at the tip… “Maybe,” he conceded thoughtfully. 

His daughter stirred faintly at the contact, a small noise coming from her mouth that sounded a bit like a grumble. Max smiled at the sound. 

“And I’m pretty sure she’s just as stubborn as her mother,” he teased Colette.

She reached up to lightly smack his hand, but her smile was fond. “Like you aren’t just as stubborn,” she retorted.

Their daughter took that moment to complain loudly for once and Colette shifted her slightly, unbuttoning her pyjama top.  At least one thing went down with absolutely no fuss whatsoever. A few minutes later, their daughter had greedily nursed, burped and was back to slumbering quietly. 

"Are the three musketeers still outside?" Colette asked.

“They are,” Max confirmed, brushing a strand of hair back from Colette’s face. He had all but forgotten about Colette’s brothers.

"Get them," Colette said softly.

Max smiled. "All of them?" he teased. He knew that was exactly what she had meant."All of them," she nodded.

[burningembers91]

Rare - The Salesman x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

Freak of Nature

On Display

A Game of Cat and Mouse

Crime of Passion

Synopsis: The Salesman wants to play a game with you. But when he changes the rules, so do you

A/N: I am immensely proud of this series. It’s unlike anything I’ve written before and I love exploring the darker sides of characters. This particular fic is probably my favourite so far. I wanted to thank everyone for the frankly mind boggling love I have received on all my fics so far. Thank you ❤️

It had been two weeks since your mysterious man in the grey suit had saved you. Two weeks since you’d given in to your desires. The day after he fucked you so hard that your bed slats broke, an entirely new bed arrived. One with a plush, cream, fabric headboard and a mattress that felt like you were sleeping on a cloud sent straight from heaven.

His heroics in the alleyway, the transition from something psychological to physical had changed the dynamics of your relationship. He didn’t want to admit it, but he could feel himself falling under your spell. It was a constant struggle to maintain the upper hand, to continue the illusion that you were entirely at his mercy. But you both knew it was a mutual torture, that each of you had the other twisted so deliciously around your respective fingers. The other night he had come so close to telling you his name. It had been so long since he’d spoken it, he wasn’t entirely sure he knew what is was anymore. But there was something about you, something deliciously dark bubbling after your soft, shea scented skin. You could be the death of him, this beautiful femme fatale. He wasn’t quite ready to relinquish control to you though; he still wanted to try and break you.

You received a phone call one day, requesting your attendance at an incredibly high end dress store in Myeong-Dong. As you made your way through the doors, the eye watering price tags made your jaw drop. You could never in a thousand lifetimes afford a dress like this; but you knew someone who could.

You were whisked into a private area, where several women with tape measures took measurements of your body. They didn’t speak to you, didn’t answer any of your questions. You were there less than five minutes, after being instructed to return to the store the next day to pick up your purchase.

“But I didn’t order anything,” you exclaimed, “can you just tell me what’s going on.”

“Our client is very discreet,” the store manager responded. “Please arrive promptly tomorrow to collect your purchase.”

You couldn’t text Mr Grey Suit to ask him what he was up to. You still weren’t privy to any personal information about him, including his phone number. He didn’t come to see you that night, leaving you to stew in your own thoughts about what he could have possibly ordered you.

The next day, you arrived at the time requested, and were once again greeted by the store manager who handed you a dress bag, with a note attached. I will see you tonight, 7pm. DO NOT LOOK IN THIS BAG UNTIL THEN. I will know if you do. You headed home, desperate to look inside the bag. You didn’t dare though, you had absolutely no doubt he would know if you took a peek.

Your grey suited man arrived at your apartment at 7pm sharp. He nodded appreciatively at your immaculate hair and makeup, cupping your chin in his hand as his eyes explored yours.

“Tonight,” he explained, “you will do exactly what I say, when I say it. If you disobey me, you will be punished. If you perform satisfactorily, you will be rewarded.”

“If I perform satisfactorily?” You scoffed. “I didn’t realise I was a circus monkey.”

He wiped his thumb along your lower lip, smearing the lipstick you’d applied not 10 minutes ago.

“You will do exactly what I say,” he growled. “Now, get dressed into the gift I gave you. And clean your face up. You have 5 minutes. Do not keep me waiting.”

You did as you were asked, presenting yourself like a piece of meat on a platter for him. He nodded approvingly, his hand trailing down the burgundy silk of the evening dress that fit you like a glove, the one he’d had made especially for you. You were a vision, an angel sent straight from heaven. He wasn’t going to tell you that though; he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction.

He took you to the most expensive restaurant in Seoul, where a private room had been set up especially. The staff were very discreet, and he’d need exactly that for what he hand in store for you tonight. You sat down opposite him at the small table, classical music quietly playing through the speakers. The room had no windows, lit only by the dimness of the candles dotted around the room.

“I took the liberty of ordering for you,” Mr Grey Suit said. “I’d expect you to eat every single bite.”

Champagne arrived, followed by oysters. You hated oysters with a fiery passion, but you forced yourself to finish every single one. You refused to show your distaste for them, refused to grimace as the slimy substance slid down your throat. Next up was steak, rare, the meat still oozing blood into to your plate, seeping into the accompanying potatoes. Your stomach turned; you hated red meat. You hadn’t eaten it since you were 10, the smell of it sending your stomach churning.

“I can’t,” you whispered, the metallic smell of the dead animals blood seeping into your nose.

“Are you disobeying me?” He asked, tutting as he tucked a linen napkin into his shirt. “I’m supposing you want to be punished then?”

“Please,” you choked, “anything but steak. I can’t, it’s the smell.”

“Stand up.” He told you. You stood to attention, ignoring the rising bile in your throat. “Come here.”

You did as you were told, your breath hitching as he pulled up your dress to your waist.

“Bend over,” he instructed. You obeyed, hearing the sound of his steak knife slide through the fabric of your lace underwear. You cried out as a sharp, swift slap was delivered to your right cheek, quickly followed by another, and then another. Each hit was harder than the last, tears streaking your face. The mixture of pleasure and pain was exquisite and yet so unbearable.

“Will you do as you’re told now?” He asked, his breath slightly ragged. You were soaking wet as you nodded, and he to resist sliding his fingers inside you. He was supposed to be punishing you after all, not giving you what you wanted.

You sat back down, the skin of your ass stinging as it made contact with the leather chair. Mascara smudged your cheeks, your face flushed. You looked down at the rare steak, then back up your mystery man. He was smiling so smugly at you; he clearly thought he’d won this little game. You smiled sweetly back, picked up your knife and fork, and sliced into the meat. You did your best to ignore the blood that seeped from it. You hardly breathed as you ate, swallowing the bile that continued to rise. A flash of anger contorted his usually handsome features; you were besting him yet again.

You proudly showed off your empty plate, sweat peppering your forehead from the immense effort. You refused to show you him how unwell you felt, choosing to down your glass of champagne to remove the metallic taste from your tongue. He begrudgingly poured you more, both of you smiling as you tried to figure out the others next move.

“What do I get then?” You finally asked, when the silence became too much.

“I’m sorry?” He said, dabbing the corner of his napkin as he surveyed you.

“You said if I did everything you asked, you’d reward me,” you reminded him.

“Ah,” he chuckled, “but you didn’t do everything I asked.”

“Yes, I did,” you snapped back. “I wore the dress, I ate the oysters and the fucking steak!” Eating that piece of meat had almost made you sick, but you’d done it. And he was reneging on his end of the bargain.

“But I had to punish you before you would eat he,” he smiled.

“And I did,” you hissed back at him, fists clenched under the table. “You can’t do this.”

“I can do whatever I want,” he whispered.

You looked him up again, his smug face looking entirely slappable in that moment.

“And so can I,” you decided. “Goodnight.” Throwing your napkin down on the table, you headed for the door.

“Wait!” His voice was desperate, panicked. He didn’t want you to leave. You stopped in your tracks, turning slowly to face him. He looked uneasy, wondering why his game wasn’t going the way he wanted.

“Fine, you sighed, “I’ll stay, but you’re going to play one of my games now.”

You fucked him on the floor of that private dining room, straddling him as you pressed the steak knife to his throat, the one he’d used to slice off your underwear. He quivered underneath you, entirely at your mercy as your slick, tight walls swallowed him again and again. He came with a strangled cry, thrusting his hips up into you as you drained every last drop of his seed.

Leaning down, you planted a single tender kiss on his lips.

“Goodnight, Mr Grey Suit,” you whispered. Standing up, you left him lying there on the cold marble floor, his cock still hard and his breathing ragged.

He had seriously underestimated you. What had started as a game of control, was now something entirely new to him. For the first time in his life, he was entirely at someone else’s mercy.

[ofbatsandballads]

please take this. I made myself cry writing it and I have nothing to say except that putting ya’aburnee and darling by halsey on my jason playlist was a brutal choice. also look up flower language if you want additional feelings.

There’s so many things you want for Jason Todd.

You want him to get a good night’s sleep for once. You let him close his pretty seafoam eyes and lay his head in the crook of your neck as you scratch gently at his scalp. It always calms him down, grounds him in the here and now. Your arms around him, your fingers carding through his hair, the rise and fall of your chest that’s synced with his–it all reminds him that he’s safe, that he’s home. You want that feeling to follow him into his dreams, to let him find true rest. So when his body goes tense and his breathing gets labored, you hold him closer and hum gently into his ear until whatever haunts him in his sleep is chased away by the comfort you bring.

You want to make sure he’s protected. You wish you could deflect every hit, blade, and bullet away from his body. You wish he would see his body as something worth protecting. He would stop if you asked, would settle into a normal life as best as he could. You would never ask because to do so would be to deny the part of him you love most: his heart that beats to help others. So you protect him in the ways that you can. You stitch cuts and treat burns, you mend his jackets and help clean his guns. More than anything, you guard his peace of mind like it’s the most valuable thing in the world. You’re never cruel to him, never scream vicious words or toss him out into the cold night. You call Bruce and thank him for the first edition Jane Austen novels that arrived on your doorstep on August 16th when Jason just…can’t. You let him grip your hand brutally tight under the table when you go to the manor for Thanksgiving for the first time. And when it gets really bad? When he feels the burning of green waters that breathed life into him that he didn’t want, when hideous laughter echoes in a place it’s never been? You do something no one has ever done for him. You wait. You stay. You stay by his side until he can breathe again, until dawn breaks and he can see the light again. And always, always you, haloed in it like an angel he doesn’t think he deserves. He does.

You want him to have a good cup of hot chocolate. He told you about it once when he came home after a long winter patrol. Half delirious from exhaustion, he reminisced about how Bruce would make them both a cup of hot chocolate after particularly rough or successful patrols in December. How this specific hot chocolate had no equal—even Alfred couldn’t replicate the richness and warmth. You noticed the fondness in his voice, the longing so intense that it still makes your heart ache for him. So you do some light stalking and hunt down Tim Drake, demand that he give you the information you want or else you’ll disclose how he really lost his spleen to Bruce (why he was dense enough to tell Jason, you’ll never know). And that is how Bruce Wayne, billionaire philanthropist single father and the Batman, receives an email with the subject line “URGENT: Recipe Request” that reads as follows:

To whom it may concern,

I have been made aware that you have a remarkably compelling hot chocolate recipe that is hitherto unparalleled by cafes, franchises, and butlers alike. I am emailing you to inquire about my being sent this recipe post-haste. This is less a request than a demand. I will do my best to ensure that you, at some point in time not specified (it will take great effort on my part), are able to witness the consumption of the hot chocolate by the individual that will be receiving the product of the recipe.

Best regards,

Someone who loves your son.

Bruce sends the recipe the second he receives the email. He has to sneak his phone under the conference table at the Wayne Enterprises board meeting to do it, but he still manages to reply in two minutes and forty-seven seconds. And you make good on your promise. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jason shine as brightly as he does that Christmas, lit up by the lights on the twelve foot tree as he sips his hot chocolate from the same red mug that’s been sitting in the kitchen cabinet since he last drank from it. The matching black mug is clasped in the hands of the hot chocolate connoisseur himself, who smiles softly like the magic of the season has returned to his life for the first time in ages.

You want him to heal. It’s a big ask; you know that. But you’ve never been one for giving up hope, and if anyone can manage to achieve the impossible, it’s Jason. So you tell him it’s a great idea when he jokes about getting a therapist. You wait for him in the car the first time he goes and you let him open up to you in his own time when he comes out of the appointment body tight as a bowstring and eyes bloodshot. You watch quietly and celebrate the little victories you see him win. He can call his father first now; he doesn’t do it often, but he can. He can talk to his younger brother without hating his hands and the blood that’s been spilled on them, without going out on patrol and intentionally letting all the worst hits make contact. He can go out to lunch with his older brother and his youngest, can laugh with them over that ridiculous thing Bruce did at a gala once to make them all laugh. He can bear his birthday a little bit better now, can accept the cake you bake and actually make a wish when he blows out the candles. But you’ll never know about the moment that you start to get what you want. Jason goes to visit his own grave on the anniversary of his death and finds a bouquet of red carnations, baby’s breath, and honeysuckle with a note in your handwriting that reads “Someone told me once that you were magic, that that was the best thing about you. I think it’s far more important that you were loved. I don’t know what you could’ve been. I don’t wonder about it like those that loved you did because all I know is who you became. He’s wonderful. He’s still magic. I think you’d be proud of him. I’ll do my best to take care of him for you.” He sits there for an hour in tears. Then he takes one bud of each flower and the note, goes home and presses them into the pages of his favorite book. He holds you in his arms in bed that night and feels, for the first time in a long time, a sense of peace down to his very bones.

You want—above all else—Jason Todd to feel loved. You want him to feel so cherished and wanted that he cannot possibly look at himself without realizing that he is something precious, something beloved. So you tell him that you love him and you accept his warm embrace as his way of saying it back. You make him chocolate chip cookies and sneak one into the pocket of his tactical pants when he goes on patrol (they’re soft, they don’t get crunched when he’s thrown from a roof). You read his favorite books to understand what he’s saying when he goes off on tangents about class and social hierarchy and how they governed life in the 19th century. You trace his scars and kiss away his tears when he can’t believe that he could be transformed from a being marred by brutality into a man revered with gentleness. You will love him until the day you both die. You will love him in death, until whatever atoms made up you and him come together again. You will love him until everything that ever is or ever was ceases to be in a supernova of light. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll love him in whatever is born after.

[sorchathered]

Got my sights set on you- Jake Seresin x reader

Pairing- Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader

Warnings-language, drinking, Jake being a massive flirt

A/N- I don’t have much of a summary for this, just clearing out my wips for you all and found this little gem I wrote last summer! Hope you enjoy!

———————————————————————————

If there was one thing you knew about Jake Seresin it was that he was a massive flirt. Men, women, non-binary, didn’t much matter your gender he was a tease and everyone knew it. Lately he’d set his sights on you, and he was relentless. You had to admit you liked the attention, and dropping him down a peg with snappy comments was always entertaining. You enjoyed the banter between the two of you, it had been fun and games until one night you noticed another girl from the bar had seemed to catch his attention, pulling out all the stops for her instead of sitting and chatting you up. It shouldn’t have bothered you, it was just a game right? Neither of you had ever made a move and he had every right to talk to whoever he pleased. Rooster could see through all your bullshit, sidling up next to you as he followed your eyeline to Jake and the brunette that seemed to have him enthralled in conversation.

“So Vixen, when you gonna admit to yourself that this little thing you’ve got going with Hangman is more than a schoolgirl crush?” You glared up at him and opened your mouth to snap at him but it died in your throat when you saw the sympathetic look on his face, you hated that he could see how transparent you were. “It was just a crush, really, I thought I just enjoyed the back and forth but… shit rooster what am I supposed to do here? It’s Hangman we’re talking about, he doesn’t do relationships, and in the end I’ll just get hurt so what’s the point?” You cradled your head in your hands against the bar top as Bradley patted your shoulder. “Kid I hate to be the one to burst your doom bubble but if you gave that man the time of day he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. I've seen him when he’s just looking for a hook up and that’s not what this is with you. He may be chatting that girl up but he won’t take her home, in fact I don’t think he’s taken anyone home in months, most of the time he just moons over you. I bet if you walked over there right now and told him to take you home he’d be putty in your hands, you wield more power than you know honey.”

You rolled your eyes at him, there was no way in hell he was into you like that, but as rooster passed you a shot of tequila you glanced back at Jake and he was looking right at you. Fuck it, you were going for it. Tossing back the shot you squared your shoulders and swayed your hips as you walked towards him, he wasn’t paying a bit of attention to the girl talking his ear off anymore, eyes completely focused on you. “Hey Vix, haven’t seen you all night-“ he said as you pressed yourself between him and the brunette, shock crossing his features as you waved her off.

“Uh we were talking!”

“And now you’re not, see how that works?”

You hit her with an icy glare and blessedly little miss tag chaser seemed to take the hint, off to lick her wounds with god knows who. That wasn’t your business or your problem. Right now you need to keep the momentum going and get your man.

“So a little birdie told me that I should shoot my shot, how about it, Seresin? You talk a big game, wanna take me home?” For once in your life Jake Seresin was at a loss for words, mouth opening and closing like a fish, completely in shock.

“Uh-I- yeah-yeah absolutely. Sweet Jesus darlin’ please don’t fuck with me, I don’t know if my heart can take it.” The cocksure grin is back, but you can tell he’s still unsure, so you slide even closer and press your lips to his. It starts out completely innocent, just reassurance that you are actually into him, but you quickly remember who you’re dealing with and Jake Seresin certainly isn’t all talk, sliding one hand into your hair and the other into the back pocket of your jeans, running his tongue along your lips as you give him entrance, letting him make out with you right here in the middle of the bar, where all your coworkers can see.

You can hear whoops and whistles from your friends and it breaks you both apart, taking in deep breaths between your giggles. “Still up for taking me home?” You whisper as you smooth your hands through his golden hair, and where you expect more sexual innuendo and banter you’re left with something more. He smiles down at you and kisses your nose, the look he’s giving is melting you from the inside out, maybe Rooster was right; maybe this wasn’t just fun and games. “I can definitely take you home sugar, but I don’t want just a hook up from you, I’m thinking tomorrow you let me take you on a real date, you deserve to be treated to all the bells and whistles baby girl.” If you gave him the chance he’d wife you up on the spot if he was honest, but he’d give you some time before he told you all the ideas he had for the future.

You looked a little shell shocked at that, sure he’d been flirty but he’d never once made you think he was interested in more than a night or two.

“I can see the wheels turning in that pretty head y/n, don’t overthink it baby, just let me show you how good I can be.”

And he was, in fact, very good.

———————————————————————————

Tagging- @roosterforme @shanimallina87 @jessicab1991 @honeytwrites @heavenssins @dizzybee03 @kissmecaitie @sio-ina-bottle @sunsetsimpsblog @mynameismckenziemae @trickphotography2 @seitmai @callsigns-haze

[summertimesadnessirl]

You should try just no longer talking to them. Just tell them that using actual words and then bounce.

Self sabotage is not real. In relationships, you are sabotaging the other person. They don't know why you did this.

And "you're not good enough for meeeeeee!" Is actually a terrible excuse to piss someone off or make them miserable or mistreat them or cheat on them or whatever you are doing.

I don't think this is real though.

Every time someone accuses me of self sabotaging it's either a fancy way of saying

"I feel bad for you and that makes me feel bad and I have the ability to discern and manage emotions, including those absorbed through empathy of roughly a 6th grader and won't admit it so now I'm trying to tell you to shut up about your problems and not indicate distress in any way because you being sad near me is bumming me out but that would require me to have a higher level of maturity and self awareness than I have so I'm just going to accuse you of causing your own problems and hope you slink away in shame because I want to lash out at you even though you didn't do anything wrong and I don't know why."

Or

"Actually god is punishing you for negative vibes, because God is also a little bitch with the emotional range of a sixth grader, so... that's for you to fix. I am very mystical and used to people not questioning my philosophy as a result, and I don't realize people can tell I'm a dyed in the wool sadist who enjoys seeing people in emotional turmoil. My main interest in the mystical arts is keeping other people too intimidated with how esoteric I am or too intimidated by my resemblance to religious abuse of a similar nature in their childhood to call me out on pretending to offer advice so I can get off on making people feel like shit after talking to me for not understanding why my advice doesn't make them feel better when I supposedly say all the right things."

Or

"The same, but with the self help industry."

So I've never met anyone who actually self sabotages relationships because the other person is too good for them.

I have met people who don't understand why something isn't working but know it isn't working.

I have met people who claim they self sabotage relationships because they don't feel good enough. Most of those people were victims of abuse and gaslighting.

A few were lying to people about their own motives in order to justify some sadistic behavior they got called out on.

They knew it would make the other person go

Awwwww

And forgive them and let them go another round.

I self sabotage any relationship I have with people bc I know in the end they are better without me in their lives

[gojoidyll]

There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair

Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader

Chapter 12 | Jing Yuan

Summary | You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, your own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey!

want to be a part of the taglist? then pls go to taglist ^-^

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“Good evening, princess.”

Without much time to relax or breathe when Blade left to go to the Emperor, another had entered the infirmary. You recognized him easily. He was the main physician that cared for people here. Luocha.

Bringing up the blankets close to your face as a sort of barrier between you and the man, you nodded to him, “h- hello… are you… that Emperor that that guard had mentioned?”

Luocha chuckled as he came to your bedside, “no, no. I’m a doctor, a healer of sorts. Now, princess, how are you feeling? Is there any pain anywhere?”

Taking a moment to think things over, you were glad that everything was working so well so far. Though, truthfully, you haven’t once talked to Luocha before, so you weren’t sure just how perceptive he was, so the amnesia act must go on.

“A little… mainly in my legs, back, and a dull throb in my head.”

Luocha nodded, “and can you remember anything?”

You shook your head, “I- I can’t,” for more of an effective you tried to think of something sad so your eyes could start watering, and just as the tears started to form Luocha was quick to try to comfort you which was surprising to say the least.

“Don’t cry, princess, we don’t have to talk about your lost memory, alright? Let’s focus on something else.”

You nodded and just as Luocha brought out a small handkerchief, probably to wipe your tears, but before he could hand it to you, the infirmary door opened again, and Blade stepped through… with the Emperor coming in right after.

“Why is she crying,” Blade asked.

Luocha bowed, “I’m afraid it’s my fault, I asked her if she could remember anything, and I guess all the stress has finally gotten to her. My apologies.”

Without a word, Jing Yuan stepped forward and took the handkerchief from Luocha’s hand, and when he walked over to you, you couldn’t deny the fear that strikes through your veins as you scooted away, your back hitting the headboard as Jing Yuan sat on the edge of the bed and reached for you.

But all you could see was the striking arch of his blade swinging down.

However, instead of feeling that cold, electrifying metal glide straight through your body like it was made of paper, you felt a warm, calloused hand gently cup your cheek. The handkerchief cloth then lightly being applied to your dampened skin.

You trembled within his hold as he wiped away your tears. A part of you still disbelieving as he gently cleaned you up. It was such a stark contrast to your other meetings with him.

Once your tears were dried, Jing Yuan tossed the handkerchief back to Luocha, “leave us.”

Bowing almost immediately, Luocha took his leave. Though, Blade hesitated for a moment.

“That goes for you as well, Blade.”

Blade only gave a stiff nod before leaving. Your mind was a bit confused at the interaction. Blade has never done that before. He was always quick to follow Jing Yuan’s orders after all.

When you and Jing Yuan were finally alone, you half expected him to tell you to drop the act, but the words never came. Instead, his steel-like focus was solely on you, and not once were you able to stop your shaking, trembling form because of it.

His hand that was cupping your cheek moved to gently caress your face before he let his palm fall away from you.

“Princess.”

“Y- yes,” your voice wobbled slightly.

“Do you know how I am?”

“The- the Emperor?”

He smiled at your answer, “and my name?”

You shook your head, “no,” that one word was a mere quiet whisper that fell from your lips. This was way different than before. Not once had Jing Yuan ever asked anyone to leave you two alone. There was always a third-party present.

“My name is Jing Yuan.”

You nodded.

“Do you know your name?”

“I don’t… everyone only calls me by that princess title.”

Jing Yuan chuckled softly at your response and told you what your name was, and before he could say anything else, you spoke first even though that same fear still coursed through you.

“Is it true?”

“What is?”

“That- that we’re supposed to be getting married to one another?”

He hummed at that question, “we are, yes. You’re my fiancé, in fact.”

His hands moved down to your own, his fingertips lightly brushing at your knuckles as he tried to coax you to let go of the blanket, and once you did, he let his fingers slip into your palm before intertwining both his and your fingers together.

“I- I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I don’t remember anything much less being your fiancé.”

“That’s alright, I’m sure your memory will come back in time.”

You panicked then, was he really dead set on this marriage then?! You didn’t let your inner turmoil show as you looked at your intertwined hands, “how did we end up together?”

“I met you at your father’s castle. The moment I saw you, I knew you were the one.”

You resisted the urge to pull your hand away from his.

“Did I tell you much about myself? Anything you can remember? I- I mean, if you want to tell me, of course. It’s just- it might help me remember,” you rambled a bit, your nerves quickly acting up, but Jing Yuan was quick to ease you, surprising as it sounds.

“I know that your favorite color is (color), and that you like to eat (favorite food),” he started to list off a few things, each detail surprising you more than before because… he was right on all of them, but you never told him any of this, so how-? How was it that he seemed to know you so well?!

And as your conversation with the Emperor continued, Luocha had returned at some point to prescribe you some sort of pain relief drink that you will need to take every morning and even said that you will be able to go back to your room. Which was a blessing, well, until Luocha left once more, and Jing Yuan stood up as well just as the infirmary door closed.

“Shall we?”

His hand was still intertwined with your own as you nodded. He was probably going to lead you back to your room, much to your relief. However, as you stood up the pain in your legs was way more than you previously thought as you left out a small cry of pain and stumbled forward.

Luckily, Jing Yuan had already caught you before you could fall face first to the floor, and before you could apologize, he had lifted you up causing a gasp to leave your lips as he moved to hold you in a bridal carry. Scrambling in his grasp, you hadn’t noticed that you had wrapped your arms around his neck until you turned your head to look at him, and not realizing that he was looking at you too, your lips had accidentally brushed against his own.

You reacted quickly as you pulled away, “I- I’m so sorry!”

And as you looked at him, it was like it took a moment for your words to register in his head as his eyes seemed to have a far away look in his eyes, but before you could say anything else, he smiled at you.

“You don’t need to apologize for something like that.”

You nodded as he fixed his hold on you and moved to exit the infirmary, and just as you were about to ask him if he wanted you to open the door for him, he had called out to Blade, and just as he did, the door opened. Blade seemingly had been guarding the infirmary this entire time.

“Come along.”

The walk to your room was silent and whatever you did, you just couldn’t get your body to relax within his hold. Your tension not going unnoticed by the Emperor, but luckily he didn’t say anything.

“Here we are.”

Looking towards the door and then back up at Jing Yuan’s face you asked, “do we… not sleep in the same room?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard, but he was quick to recover, “before we had agreed not to share a room until after we are married, however, maybe sleeping in the same room will hasten your memories to come back sooner rather than later.”

You were quick to shake your head as you ducked your chin down to avoid eye contact, “n- no, we can- we can wait until we’re married- if- if you still want to marry me.”

Having Blade open your bedroom door, Jing Yuan had walked in with you still in his arms. His steps easily carry you to your bed, but before he set you down, he had leaned into you. His lips pressing softly to your forehead causing you to freeze up again.

“Get some rest, I’ll see you at breakfast in the morning. Your maids will come assist you in getting ready tomorrow,” he said to you as he set you down.

“Al- alright, thank you Emper-,” before you could finish he had stopped you, his thumb pressing firmly against your lips.

“My name.”

Nodding to him, he had brought his hand away, “thank you…. Yuan.”

The shortening of his name seemed to catch him off guard again, but just as before his recovery was as swift as the wind, and he delivered his goodnight to you just as easily before leaving your room.

And once you were finally alone, you flopped back into your mattress. Jing Yuan was acting off, but you knew better. As long as you stayed on your toes and kept at it, you knew that you would be able to make it home.

“Blade.”

“Yes?”

“Has Dan Heng apprehended the maid responsible?”

“He has.”

“Good.”

“Do you want him to take care of her?”

“No, I’ll kill the maid myself.”

taglist pt 1

@danae-misfortune @frogsasfrogs @openthenyoor01 @zuhaine @ughlostmyotherac @joyfulnightprincess @thechibifoxcub @ceaether @satanisasofties @thetwinkims @yanrandom @honeybunbunn @superdonkeypatroleggs @ohmyfinggod @baboon-milk333 @zareri @kclremin @rains-mae @yccoffeesimp @bloomiesty @moon-taffy @superdark-soul @pinkismyfavcolor @isa-l0v3r @its-astrotea-love @reapersan @junephantom21 @erisfayred @greyrain23 @justadekusimp @uzxotic @alisstaa @avalordream @unlivingdisaster @pix-stuff @sleepyxion14 @pillows-blankets @anicega @junni-berry @niaainthere @sorachitsuki @dyingsweetmackerel @rosariymchapter @immahuman @fluffy-koalala @momoniq @orphiclueur @insightedly

[deonsx]

bachira, isagi, rin, (add ur favs if you want <3) with reader who’s love languages are like quality time, physical touch, words of affirmation + is pretty talkative and social feeling annoying?? like reader yapping away and sometimes realizing it could be boring, or reader always liking being close to them but pulling away sometimes for seemingly no reason cause they don’t wanna be a bother? (Also sfw pls I am asexual :3)

muah muah have a nice day/night drink lots of water!!! remember to take time for yourself!!!

heyaaaa im here again!!! i love this cutie rq lets do this also im adding^^ +Nagi,Sae,Kaiser

Rin Itoshi

He’s used to solitude and silence, so your constant chatter initially feels like an intrusion into his carefully constructed world

But over time, he notices how your voice fills the spaces he didn’t realize were empty. Even if you’re rambling about something he doesn’t fully understand, like the plot of a drama you’re watching or a funny story from work, he listens. He’s a quiet listener, his sharp eyes fixed on you while you speak, occasionally nodding or offering a low hum of acknowledgment

Sometimes, though, you realize you’ve been talking too much. You falter mid-sentence, worry flickering across your face. “Sorry, I’m probably boring you” you mumble, starting to pull away, both physically and emotionally. Rin frowns when this happens. “You’re not” he says, his tone firm. “Just… keep talking” It’s not a grand declaration, but it’s enough to keep you going

Your love for physical touch throws him off guard at first too. You’ll casually lean against him while watching a movie or brush your fingers against his when you’re walking together. He stiffens initially, unsure how to reciprocate, but he doesn’t pull away. In time, he grows used to your closeness, even coming to crave it

But there are moments when you suddenly withdraw. Maybe you were resting your head on his shoulder but then sit up, or you pull your hand back from his. Rin doesn’t understand why you do this and it frustrates him

One evening as you sit together on the couch, you shift away after being snuggled against him for a while. He grabs your wrist gently, stopping you “What are you doing?” You hesitate, avoiding his gaze. “I just… I don’t want to annoy you. I know I can be too much sometimes”

Rin’s grip tightens ever so slightly, his expression unreadable. “You’re not annoying.” His voice softens, a rare moment of vulnerability breaking through. “If I didn’t want you here, I’d tell you” It’s a simple reassurance, but it means everything coming from someone like Rin. Slowly, you relax and lean back into him. He doesn’t say much else, but the way his hand lingers on yours, grounding you, says enough

Bachira Meguru

Bachira genuinely enjoys hearing you talk. Whether it’s about your day a funny story or some random thought that popped into your head he listens with a wide grin his golden eyes sparkling with interest. Sometimes he even adds to your rambles tossing in jokes or exaggerated reactions that make you laugh

“Wait wait so you’re telling me the cat jumped on the table during the meeting? Was it secretly trying to take over the company?” he says dramatically making you giggle until your sides hurt

He never makes you feel boring. Instead he thrives off your energy loving how your conversations never seem to end. But the moment you start doubting yourself maybe mid-sentence when you realize you’ve been talking for a while he notices right away

“Am I talking too much?” you ask your voice suddenly hesitant. Bachira tilts his head confused “Huh? No way!” He leans closer his nose almost brushing yours. “I like your voice. Don’t stop now you were telling me about that weird customer!”

Your love for physical touch is something Bachira immediately embraces. He’s naturally affectionate and loves being close to you whether it’s linking arms holding hands or draping himself over you while you sit together. You’re like his personal magnet if he’s in the room he’s going to find his way to you

“Bee I need to cook dinner” you protest one evening as he hugs you from behind his chin resting on your shoulder “Mm but you’re so comfy” he murmurs nuzzling into your neck “Can’t I stay here? Pretty please?”

Sometimes though you pull away unexpectedly. Maybe you feel like you’re overwhelming him or being too clingy. Bachira notices this too. The first time it happens he blinks in confusion watching as you slide to the other side of the couch or step away from his playful embrace

“Why’d you move?” he asks pouting slightly “I just… I don’t want to bother you” you admit avoiding his gaze

Bachira’s expression softens and he wastes no time closing the gap between you again. He cups your cheeks in his hands his thumbs brushing lightly against your skin “Bother me? That’s impossible.” His voice is soft but filled with conviction. “I like it when you’re close. You don’t have to pull away okay?”

The reassurance in his tone makes your chest feel lighter and you smile “Okay” Bachira thrives in your shared chaos loving every moment of your affection and chatter. To him you’re never too much; you’re the perfect match for his wild boundless energy. He even gets a little needy if you ever try to tone yourself down

“Hey” he says one day tugging at your sleeve. “Why are you so quiet today? Did I do something?” You laugh shaking your head “No I just didn’t want to talk too much and annoy you”

Bachira’s jaw drops dramatically “Annoy me? You? Never!” He wraps an arm around your shoulders pulling you into a side hug “You could talk all day and I’d still wanna hear more. So go on tell me everything”

Isagi Yoichi

At first he’s a little overwhelmed by how much you talk. You’re full of energy and always have something to say while he tends to lean on the quieter more thoughtful side. But it doesn’t take long for him to realize he enjoys the way you bring so much life into his day

He listens to you intently even when you’re going off on tangents about your favorite show or a random funny thing that happened during the day. He nods along offering small comments or questions that show he’s genuinely engaged. When you pause mid-conversation worrying that you might be talking too much Isagi is quick to reassure you

“Wait why’d you stop?” he asks tilting his head slightly his soft blue eyes full of curiosity “I don’t know… I just thought I might be boring you” you admit quietly. Isagi’s expression shifts to one of determination the same look he has on the field “You could never bore me. I like hearing you talk. It’s… comforting”

Your love for physical touch takes a bit of getting used to for Isagi. At first he stiffens slightly when you casually grab his hand or lean into his side. It’s not that he doesn’t like it he’s just not used to someone being so openly affectionate. But over time he starts to crave it. He finds himself reaching for your hand first or sitting closer to you just so your shoulders brush

One evening you’re sitting next to him on the couch and absentmindedly rest your head on his shoulder. After a few moments you pull away suddenly feeling like you might be crowding him. Isagi notices immediately

“What’s wrong?” he asks his voice laced with concern “Nothing I just didn’t want to bother you” you say looking away. He frowns slightly before gently grabbing your wrist pulling you back to him “You’re not bothering me. I like it when you’re close. Stay?”

Nagi Seishiro

Nagi is a great listener even if he doesn’t seem like it. He’ll lie back phone in hand while you go on about your day occasionally mumbling a soft “hmm” or “yeah” to let you know he’s paying attention. When you suddenly pause mid-ramble and mumble “Sorry I’m probably boring you” Nagi’s lazy eyes lift from his phone to meet yours “Not really” he says plainly his voice soft but firm. “Keep talking. It’s kinda nice”

Physical touch is another adjustment for him. You’re always leaning into him holding his hand or draping yourself over his shoulder and while he’s not the most physically expressive person he doesn’t mind it. In fact he starts to crave the warmth of your presence though he’d never outright say it

Sometimes though you pull away suddenly like when you’ve been curled up against his side during a lazy day of gaming. You’ll sit up or move to the other side of the couch a little self-conscious. Nagi notices right away and glances at you his expression unreadable

“Why’d you move” he asks his tone nonchalant though there’s a hint of curiosity in his voice “I just… I don’t want to be a bother” you admit avoiding his gaze. Nagi sighs softly setting down his controller “You’re not a bother” he says simply pulling you back to him with surprising gentleness. “You’re comfy. Don’t overthink it”

Quality time with Nagi is less about doing something grand and more about enjoying the quiet moments together. He’s perfectly content lying on the couch with you watching random videos or playing games while you talk about whatever’s on your mind. Sometimes he’ll pause his game just to listen to you more closely a small barely noticeable smile tugging at his lips

If you ever try to tone yourself down or give him space because you think you’re overwhelming him Nagi is quick to call you out in his own way “Why’re you being so quiet today” he asks one afternoon peeking at you from the corner of his eye

“I didn’t want to annoy you” you reply fiddling with your hands. Nagi sighs again this time more dramatically “You’re not annoying. You’re kinda the opposite actually. It’d be a pain if you stopped being yourself”

Sae Itoshi

He listens to you more than you realize. When you’re excitedly talking about your day or sharing a random story he doesn’t interrupt. He might offer a quiet “Hmm” or “Is that so” to show he’s listening but his responses are subtle. Sometimes you notice his lack of reaction and start to feel self-conscious

“Sorry I must be annoying” you mumble mid-sentence suddenly pulling back. Sae’s gaze sharpens slightly as he looks at you “You’re not annoying. If you were I’d tell you” His blunt honesty catches you off guard but it’s also strangely comforting

Physical touch is something Sae doesn’t quite know how to deal with at first. You’re always finding ways to be close to him draping yourself over his shoulder or reaching for his hand. He doesn’t pull away but he doesn’t reciprocate much either not because he doesn’t like it but because he’s not sure how to show it

But then there are moments when you pull away thinking you’re being too much. Like when you’ve been leaning on him during a quiet evening and suddenly sit up creating distance. Sae notices immediately

“What are you doing” he asks his tone calm but with a hint of curiosity “I just didn’t want to bother you” you say avoiding his gaze. Sae exhales softly shaking his head “If you were bothering me I’d say something. You don’t have to stop” His words are matter-of-fact but they hold an underlying sincerity that makes your chest feel lighter

Spending quality time with Sae looks a bit different. He’s not the type to plan elaborate dates or go out of his way to entertain you but he values the quiet moments you spend together. Whether it’s sitting beside him while he watches a match or walking together in comfortable silence he appreciates your presence even if he doesn’t always say it.

When you’re unusually quiet Sae notices right away. “Why aren’t you talking” he asks one day his tone almost teasing. You hesitate before answering “I just didn’t want to annoy you.”

Sae sighs softly turning to meet your eyes “You don’t annoy me. If I didn’t like being around you I wouldn’t be here”

Kaiser Michael

He’s an active participant in your endless chatter. Whether you’re recounting a random memory or diving into an elaborate story he listens intently often throwing in witty remarks or teasing comments to keep the conversation lively

“You really don’t stop talking do you” he says one day smirking as he leans closer. Before you can apologize or feel embarrassed he adds “Good. It’d be boring otherwise”

Physical touch is something Kaiser welcomes wholeheartedly. In fact he often takes the lead when it comes to affection. He’s the type to casually drape his arm around your shoulders pull you into his lap or grab your hand just because he feels like it. He thrives on being close to you and makes sure you know it

But then there are moments when you pull away suddenly like when you’re leaning against him during a quiet moment and decide to sit up creating some space. Kaiser notices instantly and his confident demeanor shifts ever so slightly

“Where are you going” he asks his tone playful but his eyes hold a flicker of genuine curiosity “I didn’t want to bother you” you mumble avoiding his gaze

Kaiser scoffs lightly shaking his head. “You? Bothering me? Don’t be ridiculous.” He reaches for your hand pulling you back to him “I like having you close. Stop overthinking”

Spending quality time with Kaiser is anything but dull. He enjoys taking you out to exciting places fancy restaurants spontaneous trips or even just a scenic walk because he loves seeing your eyes light up. At the same time he’s perfectly happy lounging with you watching a movie or simply lying around while you talk his head resting on your lap as you absentmindedly play with his hair

When you’re unusually quiet he notices right away “Alright what’s going on” he asks his tone somewhere between teasing and concerned “Nothing” you reply quickly “I just didn’t want to overwhelm you”

Kaiser raises an eyebrow leaning closer. “Overwhelm me? Please. I can handle you and more” He grins leaning in to plant a quick kiss on your forehead “I like you just the way you are so don’t hold back”

Enjoy!

[specialgradefckr]

tw: explicit content. sukuna/reader. female!reader, heiain era sukuna. reader is a former courtesan (and not a fancy one, either). sukuna doesn't give a fuck.

It's not uncommon for Sukuna to summon you to his throne room to pleasure him. What is uncommon is for the throne room to be empty when he does.

Today is, unsurprisingly, no different.

Sukuna had ordered you on your knees at his feet, where Uruame stood aside you, plain-faced.

He watches, bored, resting his cheek on his knuckle as foolish lords and sorcerers alike come to him with entreaties for aid, for mercy, for whatever else.

"My lord," one curse user intones, with far too much confidence, "Is that the whore?"

Sukuna tilts his head to the side. You're allowed to glance up at his face while you suck him - he likes it when you do.

Right now, he looks utterly bored.

"This is my whore," He drawls. "Unless you're suggesting I would share?"

There's murmurs, but no one dares answer him. It's not your concern either way.

You gaze up at him, wide eyed. Taking him all the way to the root, stretching so your throat is straight for him, suppressing the urge to gag as you swallow down his cock.

Blinking up at him cutely. Swallowing around his throbbing cock. Am I doing a good job, Su-ku-na~?

Sukuna's lips twist in what other people would call a sneer, but you know the crinkle of his lower set of eyes, the amusement bubbling forth as he snickers menacingly.

(You can also tell that his cock is twitching, ready to blow. Come to think of it, that is quite the advantage, isn't it?(

The curses and curse-users in the room, though, they cower from it. You know to lean into the hand in your hair that pushes you further onto his cock.

A noise of disgust in the background. Feet shuffling, as if impatient.

Let them watch. Let them think what they want, call you what you want.

There's only one person in the room who matters, and his cock is in your mouth. You're a thousand times safer than any of them, even if they don't know it.

His load is hot and salty and a little gross, if you're being honest.

"My lord, are you quite done with that whore already? We've important matters to disgust."

But the utter disdain on his face, the narrowing of red eyes onto the peons before him, the disgust and sensation of his cursed energy -

The sound of his curse slicing through the air. Severing head from body. Gasps and shuffled and bloodied, crunching noises.

Sukuna does it all with one hand petting gently over your head. He doesn't even move, doesn't get up.

He's bitter on your tongue. But you've never felt more safe.

And the power. The knowledge that the most dangerous man in the world would stroke your hair while he slaughtered men too noble for a whore like you.

That is, unmistakably, the sweetest you've ever had.

What is surprising is that the man who visits you later is not Sukuna.

Rather, it's one of the lords who you'd caught lurking silently in the banquet hall.

He wants to know how to earn Sukuna's favor.

"Lord Sukuna is not a difficult man to understand," you say with an indulgent smile. "If you are going to approach him, it should be to offer him something. Otherwise, your life lasts only as long as it amuses him."

This lord is wise, you think, because he pauses a moment before he speaks. "And what does Lord Sukuna desire?"

You shrug. "He likes power, he likes knowledge. I know he has a cursed tool or two that he favors."

Eyes narrowing at you. "What else?" A demanding tone.

"He is a man like any other. You could offer him fine food or drink, but Uruame does that already." You give him a smirk. "You could always offer him entertainment. I do well enough. Would you like to know his favorite positions?"

And at last, the leashed disdain breaks loose, a snarl on the lord's pretty face, "You whore," He raises a hand, "You dare suggest-"

In an instant you drop into the lowest possible bow, head pressed to the floor.

It spares you from the spray of blood that bisects the lord's chest cavity. From what you know of Sukuna, perhaps it would have slashed you, too, had you not knelt in time.

There's silence, for a moment. Maybe he's considering wasting a second slash on you after all.

"What did he want?"

"Your favor, my lord," You answer without hesitation, "He thought I might know a way for him to earn it."

"Hmn." A grunt, half-annoyed, half-mocking; your sign that he is not upset, and you may raise your head to confirm his expression.

There's a light twitch on his lips. "And he thought he might find my favor in the private quarters of my personal possession?"

You shrug. "Most men are not particularly attached to their whores."

"Hmph." The scoff is his dismissal of the topic. When he turns to leave, you know to follow.

It's a short stroll until you reach the courtyard, a well-curated garden. Sukuna strides through it, wordlessly, a giant out of place amongst flowers.

Ever faithfully, you trail behind him. All the way to a great tree at the edge of a path, one he leans back against.

You stand there, waiting.

"What do you want?"

It's not a question you ever expected to hear from him. "What do I want... right now?"

"Hmph," Sukuna crosses his arms, still looking over on the garden. "What do you want from me? You have my favor. Unlike them."

In truth, you have no great desires. You're fed, sheltered. You can buy things you want. All you have to do is please a single man, a thousand times easier than being in a brothel. He's a better lover than most men you'd encountered.

There's not much more you could ask for - which is good. Sukuna has a marked tendency to kill people who ask him for things.

But he's told you to, now. And you've never denied him.

"If I should be so daring, my lord," You say with a low hum, "When you no longer have any use of me, I would like to be dismissed instead of disposed of."

There's a pause. A stillness to him. Cold.

"When I no longer have use of you? When do you expect that to be?" HIs voice is strange in a way you haven't known before.

"I don't know. Of course I'll do all I can before then, but I've seen many women in my time at the brothel. We all lose our beauty and our charm eventually."

Sukuna turns to you. He does not come any closer. Four eyes stare at you, piercing.

"You think I keep you around because you're pretty? I couldn't care less what you look like. I keep you around because you're amusing, and you please me." He snorts, pushing himself off the tree.

You don't know what to say to that. "...I'm glad you enjoy my services?"

"You must be, if all you want is to retire peacefully." Sukuna begins walking away. "Make no mistake, woman. If you want to leave, do it. I don't need you."

You have to hurry to keep up with his long strides. But you catch a glimpse on his face, just a dusting -

"Hurry up."

With a smile, you trail him - all the way to his bedroom.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

AHHH THIS WAS SO HEART-WRENCHINGLY PERFECT, AMORA!!

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Theo mutters, shifting uncomfortably in the cramped space. His shoulder brushes yours, and you can feel the tension between you rise like smoke.

I AM SCREAMINGGG—the mutual disdain, the awkward shoulder brush, the sheer drama of it all. I could feel the tension suffocating me through the screen.

“For what? For loving you?!” Theo cuts you off, his voice cracking with old pain, the raw emotion surfacing despite his attempts to hide it.

This line shattered me into a million pieces. The vulnerability, the sheer pain in his voice—it’s like you can feel his heart breaking in real-time. I AM NOT OKAY. 🫠🫠

"And for some reason loving me involved you constantly flirting with other girls? always canceling dates? only coming to me when you were hurt but never when I was? that wasn't love Theo. I was just convenient for you."

AHHHHHHHHH I AM UNWELL. The CALL OUT. My heart broke for her!

“You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. You gave that up when you broke up with me.”

EXCUSE ME, THE AUDACITY??? Theo, babe, sit down. I wanted to throttle him and hug him at the same time.

“Then why don’t you leave?” you hiss. “If it’s so bad, why don’t you just go?”

I am SCREAMING. The tension here is off the charts.

The buzzer goes off, cutting the tension like a knife.

NOOOOO, NOT THE BUZZER. I needed another five minutes of them in that closet—crying, yelling, making up, SOMETHING. WHY DO I FEEL LIKE THIS IS MY LIFE FALLING APART???

This fic is an emotional rollercoaster in the best way possible. I’m crying and throwing my phone—this is EXACTLY the kind of angst I live for. It is painfully delicious

Theodore Nott x Reader where they are doing 7 minutes in heaven? But instead it's hell. Love you <3

reopened wounds

theodore nott x reader

Summary: the request up above. You and Theo are Ex's, being stuck in a small space, reopened wounds from your difficult relationship with him

warning: minor heartbreak

a/n: new title , thank you for the request anon!!!:)) also I will be doing anon emojis soon!

The game is supposed to be fun, but the moment the bottle stops spinning, you know this is going to be anything but. It lands on Theo, and a wave of dread washes over you.

Your ex. Of all the people in the room, it had to be him. Your heart sinks, but you force yourself to stand up, the weight of all the eyes on you making it harder to breathe.

Theo doesn’t even look at you as you both head to the small, suffocating closet. The door clicks shut, and there’s an instant, heavy silence between you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Theo mutters, shifting uncomfortably in the cramped space. His shoulder brushes yours, and you can feel the tension between you rise like smoke.

“Nice to see you too,” you snap, your voice tight.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he lets out a frustrated sigh and shifts again, knocking into you. “This is ridiculous. We can’t even move in here.”

“Gee, you think?” you snap back, the words almost escaping before you can stop them. The anger from your past with him surges unexpectedly, and your chest tightens. “It’s not like I wanted to be stuck in here with you, but here we are.”

Theo’s eyes flash with irritation. “You think I wanted this too? You’re the one who spun the bottle.” He shifts awkwardly, trying to make room for himself but only making things worse. His elbow jabs into your side, and you flinch.

“You could at least be a little more careful,” you mutter, your voice strained.

“I am careful! You’re the one moving around every time I try to do something. Just stop fidgeting, alright?”

“Stop blaming me for your mess,” you snap, trying to push him away, but there's no space. “You can’t even stay still for five seconds without knocking into me.”

Theo groans in frustration. “God, you’re impossible!” His voice is low but full of venom, and for a moment, you’re reminded of how it felt when you two fought like this before. How everything escalated, how he always made you feel like you were the one overreacting. You take a breath, pushing that thought away. Now’s not the time.

“Don’t start,” you warn, your voice shaky but cold. "Not in here."

“Not in here?” Theo sneers, and suddenly there’s a sharp edge to his voice. “You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. You gave that up when you broke up with me.”

The words hit you like a slap. For a second, you can’t breathe, the weight of that old wound opening up again. His words are like salt on an old, raw scar. You had tried so hard to forget that night—the way everything fell apart between you two—but hearing him say it out loud makes it all feel fresh again.

“I didn’t—” you start, your voice cracking, but you stop yourself. You had your reasons for ending things, but now isn’t the time to rehash it. “That’s not what this is about.”

Theo scoffs, his face contorted with frustration. “Then what is it about, huh? You act like we’re fine, like this isn’t killing you inside. You think I’m enjoying this? Being stuck in a closet with you?”

“Then why don’t you leave?” you hiss. “If it’s so bad, why don’t you just go?”

“Maybe I will.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but the bitterness in it is unmistakable. He shoves his hand through his hair, then steps on your foot.

“Great,” you snap, your patience finally running out. “You’re making it worse.”

“Me? You’re the one overreacting,” Theo grumbles, stepping back only to bump into you again.

“I am not overreacting,” you retort. "You’re the one acting like this whole thing is a tragedy. But you know what? It’s not my fault we’re here. It’s your fault for—”

“For what? For loving you?!” Theo cuts you off, his voice cracking with old pain, the raw emotion surfacing despite his attempts to hide it.

"And for some reason loving me involved you constantly flirting with other girls? always canceling dates? only coming to me when you were hurt but never when I was? that wasn't love Theo. I was just convenient for you."

The words hang between you, thick and suffocating. You can feel your pulse in your throat as your chest tightens. your anger, your hurt—it all comes rushing back. All the feelings you thought you buried. All the love, the heartbreak, the why behind everything that happened.

Theo takes a shaky breath, but before he can respond, the buzzer goes off, cutting the tension like a knife.

You both stumble out of the closet, not looking at each other, your hearts pounding in your chests. Your friends are watching, but all you can hear is the echo of Theo’s words. You’re both pretending it’s over, but the damage is done, and the old wounds between you two are raw and open again.

ᥫ᭡reblog's & comment's are appreciatedᥫ᭡

©lov3notts ,do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.

tag list: @juliet-017 @shityoudidntaskfor

[mayasaurusss]

Hi! I have an idea, it would be nice if you could write it (if you want to). Something happened what made Isha and Jinx too nervous to go to sleep, and reader sings a lullaby to them to make them calm down

Lullaby for a pained heart Contains: heartbreak, pain and comfort, found family trope, fluff, bonus with Vi. How can Jinx sleep after what happened today?

"I am sorry about this..." Jinx looks at you with those big pink eyes of hers, fear barely concealed in the space of her throat. You reassure her to the best of your abilities, covering her under an old, thin blanket. Isha, who decided to sleep next to Jinx tonight, tries to snuggle next to her friend, searching for warmth, but finding only the cold body of the bluenette and an uncomfortable nothing on the other side.

"What for? You know I won't judge you" she just huffs in response, throwing the blanket over her shoulders and pushing her nose on the mattress. "I know but...it's still embarrassing" she can feel her pride slowly wither away, under fear's pressure. She closes her eyes briefly and suddenly, her world is filled by orange hues, smoke flowing in the skies, blood mixing with dust and a monster that so much resembled her father clawing at the corpses of fallen soldiers.

The world resumes its colours, blinding and nauseating her. Her body involuntarily jumps from its position, saliva and the contents of her dinner dangerously close to spilling from her mouth. "Hey, Jinx! Calm down!" you take her shoulders beneath your hands, her strength melted away; she's frail under your touch, shivering and sweating. Her heart is beating too fast, and to put her mind to rest, she crashes onto you, arms clinging tightly to your shoulders and hiding her face in the space between her chest and yours. If you had the time to make jokes, you'd tell her she looks like a scaredy cat. Jinx searches for warmth in your body, finding only cold clinging on your clothes. She quickly puts her ear to your heart, listening for its rhythm, repeating it in her head over and over again.

You let her rest, knowing that what she saw today is worse than anything you've ever gone through: in just a few hours, she learned that her father was alive, became a monster, found her long lost sister and almost witnessed the death of someone who was very close to her. That someone now, who had been left alone during this whole interaction of yours, was watching the two of you with barely hidden sadness, tears wettening her eyes, her mind instantly remembering that second where she made peace with what was about to happen, pointing the gun at that mass of hulking strength, ready to pull the trigger. Isha, as quietly as possible, starts to cry. A deaf sobbing, interrupted by sniffs and whimpers comes from her, alerting both you and Jinx. "Isha..." before she can say anything more, the kid slams into Jinx, crawling between the two of you. Her tears wet the base of the bluenette's neck, wailing freely her fears and sadness away. You let the both of them cry until no tears were left, only warmth and tenderness. "You went through a lot today" with your hand, you take the blanket and wrap it around you, this time joining them on the bed. "Let's just be here, okay?". Several minutes pass by, not one sound can be heard besides the one of your breathings and an occasional sniffle.

"When I was a kid, my mother would always sing a lullaby for me when I woke up from a nightmare" painted with watercolors, her mother took her in her arms, singing an old lullaby, her voice lost in the blank spots of the page. Jinx can never quite remember her mother, her face always lost beneath the mixing colours; only her voice and warmth were left behind.

"Can you... can you sing one for me?" she watches as you crane your neck down and smile at her, a smile that she only ever saw on her sister's lips and on a woman with blue hair, a long time ago. A smile that people reserved especially for her. You adjust your position on the bed, sinking inside the pillows. Jinx's head is placed above your chest, with Isha hugging your stomach, pushing herself between you and your lover. Truth to be told, you somewhat feel embarrassed to sing a lullaby to these two, but you could never resist them. You try to dig for a tune inside your mind, finally finding one you heard many years ago, when you were Isha's age.

Slowly you start to hum a lullaby, one without lyrics, one of those mothers make up on the spot, trying to put their children to sleep. At first, Jinx pouts, wanting to hear words coming from you. But as the notes ever so slowly change, her eyelids become heavier, the traces of smoke clear from her brain, leaving her empty and tired. Isha nuzzles in the crevice your and Jinx's body makes, burrowing herself in like a little mole. Her mind wonders briefly on how beautiful and safe this warmth feels, before falling fast asleep, already dreaming about what she and her best friends will do tomorrow. Jinx follows her shortly, with a comfortable silence filling her mind.

Bonus: Vi walks underneath Zaun's rain, black dye melting away and leaving pink behind. She takes a last blow from her cigarette, one Vander had given her years ago, as a little prize to be kept. It has an awful taste, lost under years of fitting snugly in a pocket in Vi's pants.

Even after running back with her sister and her new unlikely friend to the city, away from prying eyes, she couldn't feel safe. What if someone saw them? What if Ambessa would hunt them down? What would happen to Caitlyn? And what does Vi do, when her principles are shaken and the world changes faster than her mind can keep up with? She runs. She watched as her sister, her Powder looked at her with a knowing pain as she left the workshop. Years ago, she had watched her with those same eyes; but today, that pure desperation had been replaced with a veiled pain and something akin to wisdom. Powder, no, Jinx had seen things during those years they grew apart, and had become stronger than that kid who she left in the alley. Her little sister had grown.

But unlike her sister, she could never let herself give into comfort. Comfort was a trap, something that life gives you to let your guard down, before stabbing you in the back.

The rain now feels heavy on her head, each drop carrying the unmistakable smell of machinery and toxic smoke with it.

It's time to go back. With a sigh, Vi leaves her spot on the ground, walking back to Jinx's home. The room is slightly darker than it was when she left it, only lit by a handful of colorful lights hanging from the ceiling and the bed her sister sleeps in. She zeroes in on the mattress, flight or fight instincts already kicking in, before realizing the bed is occupied by three figures she knows. Walking as slowly and quietly as possible, Vi arrives at the foot of your bed, watching your sleeping figures. Your nest reminds her of how things used to be before everything went to shit.

She wishes she could let herself be vulnerable, to feel the love of a now distant home once again. She quickly glances around the room, watching every shadow, before assessing that everything is fine. No one is going to see, right? Vi drags an old chair from Jinx's desk, placing it at the foot of the bed before falling on top of it, wood scraping against wood. Her mind feels heavy, her heart tired and her limbs weak. She finally gives in, placing the top of her body on the bottom of the bed, where everyone's legs intertwine. As she falls asleep, Vi wants to believe that she can finally have a home, among these people.

Outside, Zaun's rain falls down.

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 12 - The End

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 12 of 12!

They were alone. Just the three of them.

Colette had never felt so exhausted in her entire life. But she had also never been so happy. Charlie had been fed once more and had then fallen back asleep, curled up on her father’s chest. Colette herself could barely keep her eyes open.

And she should be sleeping, but she could only watch her daughter curled up against Max's chest.

"How did we manage to create something so perfect?" She asked him softly.

Max let out a tired little huff of laughter, not bothering to open his eyes. “She is perfect, isn’t she?” he murmured quietly.

Colette felt a smile tugging at her face. “Perfect and absolutely beautiful,” she agreed quietly, shifting a little to get a better look at the two of them. "So perfect it almost hurts to look at her."

Max smiled at her. "I...There is this thing you should know," he said hesitantly.

Something about his tone, the hesitance in his voice, made Colette pause. "What is it?" she asked curiously.

"I may have told the whole world about us? On Instagram?" he admitted with a grimace.

She could only snort at that. "I think your father made sure that that cat was out of the bag," she told him drily. "What did you say?"

"That we have been a couple for 15 years. That I couldn't be happier with you and our little family," he said simply. "I wanted everybody to hear our truth," Max said softly. "Not what other people write."

"There is a romantic inside you after all," Colette teased him softly.

"You aren't angry?" Max checked.

Colette sighed. "Not at you," she said simply. "I can't be angry at you. You just want people to know how happy we are together. We kept it quiet for years for me," Colette said, staring at her daughter. "Is it weird that it feels like she put everything into perspective?" she asked him, nodding towards Charlie. "I just...I don't care anymore,” she admitted.

Max stared at her, blue eyes wide, but Colette just shrugged. “I was terrified for so long what people were going to think about me once they knew about us...but now...I don't care. What does it matter?"

Max reached over and laced his fingers through hers. "It doesn't," he promised her. "I'll start screaming it from the rooftops tomorrow, if you'll let me."

A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "I think the media already knows," she teased, squeezing his hand. "We can just put my Instagram on public and let them eat their heart out," she suggested. It wasn’t meant seriously. Not really. 

But the more she thought about it, she wondered if that was what it was going to take. Opening up the digital scrapbook of her life. Letting anybody have a peek at their relationship. Hoping that finally they would understand.

"We'd break the internet," Max retorted, grinning at her.

Colette laughed. "We really, really would. Reason enough  to do it?" she teased him.

"And give my PR team a heart attack? Absolutely,” Max returned immediately. “Tell me when.” 

"I love you," she told him seriously. "And I am ready to love you in public too."

She had done it from the shadows for 15 years after all.

He stared at her. "Are...Are you sure?"

"I am very, very sure, mon coeur," Colette told him softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "The only opinion that matters to me is yours - and my family's. I don't care what anyone else thinks," she added, glancing down at Charlie again, who slept blissfully on, cuddled against Max's chest.

"If people want to call me an attention whore or a gold digger, they are welcome to it," Colette said quietly. "I don't care. I'm happy and you're happy and our baby is happy. Let them write whatever they want."

***

"Marry me," Max blurted out.

His words came out of his mouth before he had even realised what he was saying. The room suddenly became very quiet, as if all the oxygen had suddenly been sucked out of it, and Max suddenly realised that he had just blurted out the question he had been meaning to ask for months, at a time that couldn’t be further from ideal.

Colette was staring at him, her eyebrows raised and a look of surprise on her face. She seemed frozen and totally caught off guard by his question. And he didn’t blame her for that. She was exhausted, and had just given birth, and here he was, bombarding her with questions as if this was the perfect moment to do it.

But then she smiled at him. 

"Yes," Colette said simply. "Always yes. You know that.”

Relief surged through him so strongly, Max thought he might just about collapse. She had said yes.

Granted she had said yes the last time as well. 

He remembered that day like it had been yesterday…remembered coming home that May evening in 2016…Fuelled with adrenaline from his first “proper” win. Remembered the trophy that still had a place of pride in their living room…the bottle of champagne, the Pirelli cap…and the ring that he had bought after that race. The celebratory crepes for breakfast the next day where still a tradition they kept with. 

Max felt like he could have exploded there and then, just from happiness. He couldn’t believe that he had just asked her, that she had just said yes. It didn’t feel real. It felt like something out of a dream.

"Yes?" he repeated incredulously, just to make sure he hadn’t actually dreamt it. "You’ll marry me?"

"Properly this time," she teased him, with the most beautiful smile on her face, as she leane up to press a kiss against his lips. “I’ll marry you, Maxie.”

He couldn’t stop himself from laughing, the sound breathless. It wasn’t just exhaustion that made him sound like that, it was disbelief, a sort of giddy lightness.

"Properly this time," he echoed back to her, his words soft. "You’ll marry me properly."

He couldn’t actually believe she was saying yes. "I do have a ring," he assured her. "It's at home. I hid it in the trophy."

Colette laughed. "Of course, you hid it in the trophy," she repeated, her voice warm and amused."Of course you did."

Max gave her what he hoped was at least a resemblance of a sheepish look. “Where else would it be safe?” he said defensively. "And I know you wouldn't look there," he added.

"A perfect place to hide something you don't want me to find," Colette agreed.

Max grinned at her. "Exactly," he said happily, gently brushing her hair from her face.

"Which trophy?" she asked him seriously.

"Spain 2016," he answered honestly. His first one. The one. 

"You hid it in the 2016 trophy?" Colette repeated, her smile widening into a grin. "Really?"

"Just felt appropriate,” he answered honestly. He still remembered handing it to Colette for the first time, the ring that he had bought clanging around in the bottom of it. 

"It is," she agreed softly, leaning up to press a kiss against his lips.

Max smiled against her mouth, his arms tightening around her, pulling her a little closer. He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. He couldn’t believe he had just blurted out the one question he had been wanting to ask for ages, and she had actually just said yes.

"You’re really going to marry me," he mumbled against her mouth, unable to help the words. "You’re actually going to marry me."

"I had your baby, but this is what shocks you?" Colette asked him with a laugh. 

He laughed, pulling her closer again and nuzzling his face into her shoulder, her words causing him to blush faintly. “I love you,” he mumbled against her skin quietly.

"I love you too," she echoed back quietly. "And yes, I will marry you. As many times as you’ll ask."

"I am the luckiest man in the whole world," he said softly.

"No, I’m the luckiest," she told him gently, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close again. "To have you, and this, and Charlie, and all of it. It’s everything I ever wanted.”

[robinsgrl]

since im still getting hate through anon over “stealing” a concept that I didn’t know this woman had posted prior to me, im going to clear some things up.

rafesangelita reblogged a post of my comment which was taken completely out of context and not me pioneering “weird!girl”. I was talking about the “fan club” that the commenter was referring to. She commented “weird girl fan club” and I responded with “I am the leader and founder of” meaning, I was the leader and founder of my weird girls FAN CLUB because I adored that character. in high school, all the clubs had a leader and a founder but that doesn’t mean they created the idea of the club, and that’s quite literally what i meant. Think of it like a silly little club in school, it was a joke about a fan club for my specific reader. Granted, it was worded weirdly but that was part of the joke. Like me “completing” the sentence. yes, im name dropping her because quite literally everyone in the fandom knows her and she reblogged a completely inaccurate post AND blocked me before I could even speak up.

now for the woman who is claiming that i stole this concept from her. we dm’d and honestly, she was nice. i have nothing against her as a person. but she was still reblogging stuff that her friends posted about the situation and if it’s been “resolved” then stop reblogging things. anyway, she privately messaged me and admitted that she “blocked me previously to this happening”. i started writing for this fandom the end of november. I posted weird girl reader the first or second week of December. she admitted to blocking me since she saw the post and it blew up pretty quickly so im assuming that she blocked me around the same time that it was posted. i can not stress enough that i had not seen her work. as you can see that was almost a month ago. im not sure on my timeline because literally no one will tell me anything but my first post was nov. 22. it hasn’t been that long since i’ve been in this n fandom

the few works that i DID read were texts posts. everything i read i literally reblogged under my recs. I hadn’t read much farther than that. Now i know there’s no way to prove that but it’s the truth. I didn’t see her posts. I didn’t know who she was. And I didn’t get the time to know who she was because she blocked me.

now, in her long post in that same reblog im talking about, she stresses that you can make weird girl different. that she spent time on her character and I’m sure she did. granted, I didn’t get to read her works because again, I’ve been blocked. but that’s quite literally the point of _!readers. writers have the control. they can base them off of whatever they want and she named those examples. just like she was proud of her reader, i was proud of mine. those things that my reader did in the series were things that i have quite literally done in my real life.

the first part. i did the boob/pec thing to a gym guy that i was seeing back when i was 18. biting someone’s muscled arm was a trend that i saw on tiktok. Of women biting their so’s muscles.

the putting her hands in her boyfriends jeans to warm her cold hands up? i did that before and granted, it was with a girl that i was semi-seeing and not a guy like the original post, but I just flipped the scene. same with the ass slapping and grabbing joke. i do that to my friends. my friends. it’s weird, yes, but that’s why i wrote this weird girl with things i’ve done before because for a long time, i was considered weird. i was bullied in school for being weird, as im sure a lot of people have been.

this reader of mine was me. from the antics she did to the chronically online posts and texts. ive had so many people say that they, themselves have done these things with their significant others as well because tiktok and social media is normalizing not being so serious all the time, that it’s okay to be awkward and weird and goofy with the people you love. And as stated before, i go into writing weird girl reader as someone who’s on the spectrum. I don’t write that she is but as someone who is, those little pieces of me were in the story and im sure many who are can understand that.

she goes on to say that people blow up on her for confronting them. im truly sorry she had that experience but i am not them. she should have come to me as an adult from the beginning. as a grown woman. we both are grown enough to have a civil conversation before name dropping and having people come to my page and say im plagiarizing and copying her when i did not know who she was. because im sorry to say this: you did not inspire me. i did not see your posts. i did not know your account. until this reblogged ask was posted, i did not know you existed. i can not give credit on a concept that i didn’t even know you posted ahead of me. quirky readers like this have been around for longer than your own. i remember reading one direction wattpad stories with quirky/off putting readers when i was a preteen, literally dozen off stories, and back when it was “not being like other girls”. this concept is not new and was not popularized by you. I am not saying that takes away from your work. You have a right to be upset when people steal your own personal work but a concept is a concept. And it’s not one that i stole or got inspiration from you. and i have to reiterate: I am not saying i came up with this on my own. Im not saying this was my idea. But i did not get it from you.

now cameronwillow is defending her friend and i get that. having friends like this is important in hard times but i do believe she and the original sender of the ask, blew this thing out of proportion. im glad you’re there for your friend, truly, a love like that is all anyone can ask for. but you did this the absolute wrong way. read the top to see what i mean. if you still think i copied or stole from your friend and that “credit wasn’t given”, then, you’re gonna keep having a tough time on the internet and in fandoms; tropes and concepts and plots are constantly reused.

now, you posted that i should’ve messaged first. how when she admitted to blocking me when she saw my first weird girl post? you go on to say that “if you’re old enough to be on tumblr then you’re old enough to use your thumbs and message people off anon”. Now, the anon hate is wrong and anyone who is harassing your friend in a harsh way or calling her names, don’t take them as anyone I would support. I wouldn’t support any of them or any of that. If i found out who it was, i would report and block them myself. Hate through anon is wrong no matter what. But wouldn’t that go both ways? You all reblogged and posted things about me while I was blocked before we could have any sort of discussion as adults. (With the exception of dolly because she did unblock me and we had a discussion, although i will say it was too late.)

those are the main few that i think had a lot of hold over the situation. dolly isn’t at fault here. but neither am i. it was a bad situation that was dealt with badly. feelings on all sides are valid but this is the internet, you have to be careful with what you post and how you word yourself. i should have worded myself better on that leader and founder comment and i admit that, it was wrong. but at the least all of these people can and should admit that they blew this entire thing out of proportion.

now, i do want to add that this person gravedigginbbydoll made a completely insane post. in my latin culture, mal de ojo/brujeria/ hexes are a terrifying thing. it’s not something to be messed with in any sort of way. i’ve seen first hand what those things can do to a person. my mother and her long line in mexico rebuke all of this. they fight against it. they cleanse others and us in ways that i wouldn’t even know existed if i wasn’t a part of them. you don’t have to believe in it but i do. I wholeheartedly believe in it. And maybe she didn’t mean me. Maybe she didn’t mean it seriously. But i took it seriously. My family, who im talking with this about is taking it seriously. If youre an avid believer and follower of this stuff, you should know that a post like that to a random girl on the internet, who just wanted to get a better grasp on this abrupt situation, is maniacal and evil. I believe in karma. Karma IS going to come for you over that post and over wishing those things on me (and others).

I had a conversation with her friend under a post where we talk about the hate comments and anon and i agree, neither of us should get this hate. Not at all. And dolly has the right to her feelings. Plagiarism and copying is a real issues in fandoms and in fanfiction writing, one that i have dealt with myself in my past fandoms. But it’s also not insane of me to want to defend myself. I’m not “dragging it” by wanting to defend myself. I’m not “dragging it” by posting this. This is me defending myself and my writing because i am being completely honest— I did not know her work.

sensitive topic below here

Now to those who are defending me and sending me sweet messages, i love you all so much. It means the absolute world to me that you all are willing to hear me out and not jump to conclusions like many people are. And im so grateful for all the love on all my works, not only my weird girl posts. Fearless and Kildare nights were works that i was immensely proud of. Kildare Nights was a way to let out my silly little thoughts. I get attached to character and JJ was one that i was very attached to. The ending of s4 felt like a hole in me and i wanted to fill that. On top of that, a lot of you knew from my authors note that i was in the process of moving. I was lucky enough to find a place with my family in time before being evicted. I was homeless before this. I moved in with my mom because i was literally homeless. I slept in a shelter for a few days before renting a room in a random house with a random lady i met on Facebook. My mom, who I wasn’t talking to at the time, let me move back in with her. But she hadn’t told the landlord. So we were scrambling to find a place. Being homeless is a traumatizing part of life that I never want to go through again. And Kildare Nights is what got me through the nights where I wanted to give up again.

And Fearless was my baby. I’ve been a big girl my entire life. I was bullied for it relentlessly in high school to the point of developing an eating disorder that I still struggle with at 21 years old. I’m getting there slowly and surely but Fearless was for the big girls now and in the past that never felt like they could be loved. For the big girls who struggled to find themselves attractive or sexy or even pretty. To the big girls who have had mean girl experiences regarding their weight and just mean high school girls in general. We are deserving of love and romance and even the heartbreak that comes with all of that.

And im sorry to cut it all short. But this account is tainted by everyone who has name dropped me, who has blocked me, who has sent me hate through anon. By all of it. I may be grown and I should be able to handle these things but truth is im not. I don’t have the confidence nor am I in the correct frame of mind, mental health wise, to be putting up with all of this. I get that im not a child but Im 21 and still figuring things out. drama (because this is drama. despite saying its not.) shouldnt be in spaces that make us feel good, that make us feel empowered and that a lot of us use as an escape. thank you for hearing me out.

[savedanafamily]

@ot3

“Dear friend ,

I am writing to you today with a heart full of hope and faith in the kindness of your hearts ❤️. I'm going through very difficult times and I need your support 🙏🏼. Every donation, no matter how small, can make a big difference 🌟 and help me meet these challenges.

Your donation is not just an amount 💸, it is a support and support 💪🏽, and hope for a better future. Together we can make adversity stories that tell hope and dignity 🌈. Contribute even with something simple, every post brings me a step closer to the life I aspire to 💫.

🌐 Donation Link: [https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-dana-get-her-arm-back]

Thank you from the heart to everyone who contributes and supports. You are hope 💖.”

Hi everyone, I just want to bring your attention to Nader's campaign again today. He's 17 years old and doing everything he can to try and support his family during the genocide. He has far more on his plate than any teenager should, and I'd love if anyone who has the means could help them all out.

Vetted as #4 @ Gazavetters

[therandomfandomme]

We're all going feral over the whole "Mercy? Mercy?" which is so valid of us, but the way mercy comes back as a theme in this final saga is really interesting to me, because before this, Odysseus is asked for mercy, for forgiveness:

"Old king, our leader is dead

You've destroyed the serpent's head

Now the rest of us are no longer a threat

Old king, forgive us instead

So that no more blood is shed

Let's have open arms instead"

"No"

He has become Poseidon, the one that first forced him into believing that mercy isn't something he can afford ("Look what you turned me into"), which is made doubly poignant with Eurymachus echoing the open arms of Polites ("Greet the world with open arms"). Now I'm not saying he should have forgiven the suitors for what they were planning on doing, however, this interaction directly informs this one later:

"Throw down those weapons

And I ensure you'll be spared"

"After seeing what the king will do to us

We wouldn't dare"

Because Odysseus doesn't show mercy to Eurymachus, Melanthius doesn't want to take the risk when Telemachus extends mercy to them, which then leads to the starting interaction.

When extending mercy and creating a kinder world is discussed again, it's by Athena. She is the original god, who pushed him towards a lack of mercy, who found that a warrior of the mind is one that showed not mercy and Odysseus believed her during the war, even threw a baby of a roof about it, and it wasn't until after that he rebelled her teachings only to be forced into it by other gods (Poseidon and Zeus most specifically). To which this is said:

"If that world exists, it's far away from here

It's one I'll have to miss, for it's far beyond my years

You might live forever, so you can make it be

But I've got one endeavor, there's a girl I have to see"

"Very well"

"Father, she's waiting for you"

I especially want to highlight that Odysseus says it is beyond his years. He has become that monster and he can't undo that in the years he still has. If this is to happen, then it must be the future generations that Athena has to influence to make that world. Having her reply to that getting interrupted by Telemachus is very purposeful to me. Because he does still extend mercy, he is the new warrior she trained and she trained him differently because her belief changed.

But I also think having her show Odysseus her face with the lightning scar as she agrees is very telling. When she pushed Odysseus to be ruthless she had not been on the other end of no mercy, which is what makes Odysseus turn against her ("Unlikе you, every time someone dies I'm left to deal with the strain"). She now has been on the other side of it by the hands of someone Odysseus also faced and they were both shown the same lack of mercy. For Odysseus that was his final turning point where he chose no mercy, while Athena did chose mercy.

And in the end, she did get some mercy from Zeus in response from it. Zeus also learned from her, from the lesson Odysseus taught her, which was taught to him by Polites. And that mercy gets paid forward allowing Odysseus to get home (yes, I'm emotional about Polites helping Odysseus get home in the end). Almost every time mercy is shown, his journey progresses (Lotus eaters, Aeolous, Circe, Zeus).

Athena has been through not receiving mercy, but she still believes, is still working towards that future. And while she accepts Odysseus words about him being beyond such a world, she doesn't agree with him. Her reply feels more like accepting a dismissal rather than an agreement. And Telemachus shows up as a reminder that she is more correct than Odysseus in this, and he leads them into Penelope.

God, I love Penelope. With her, Odysseus tells someone yet again that he has changed ("I am not your kind and gentle husband") and that he would understand if she did not love him anymore. And then we get this banger:

"Only my husband knew that

So I guess that makes him you"

Penelope shows him mercy in this. She has asked him what he has done and she is given the option to not want him anymore after hearing about the monster he's turned into, but she doesn't. She forgives him. He asks for forgiveness and she grants it. That is mercy.

Not only that, but she also affirms that he is still him. The usage of husband here is important to me, because he says he's not her husband, who was gentle and kind, and she tells him that he is. He believes him beyond that world where people are empathetic and kind, but the roots of that world he created in Ithaca and with Athena allow him to come home. He isn't a monster beyond redemption, he is also a part of that kinder world, regardless of what he has done.

And then you have the music echo the Just a Man melody when Odysseus sings:

"I'm just a man who's trying to go home

Even after all the years away from what I’ve known

I'm just a man who's fighting for his life

Deep down I would trade the world to see my son and wife

I'm just a man"

He is brought back to who he was when he was still just a man, before he became a monster. He did trade the world to see his son and wife and that makes him just a man.

The whole musical asks the question when a man becomes a monster and I think while it is never explicitly answered, that the answer is: when he isn't shown mercy. And that by showing someone mercy, you can reverse that. That it isn't permanent. I really love the moral question of mercy vs. ruthlessness in that Epic has, so it was really interesting to see how it came back in the end :D

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° always picking a fight

( alexis ness x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — i love ness so here's ts i wrote at 1:30 AM ( MANGA SPOILERS FOR MOST RECENT CHAPTER )

♡ word count — 1.1k

♡ content — alexis ness x fem! reader, fem! reader, established relationship, hinted that ness and reader have known each other for a while, kaiser's an ass, kaiser and reader fighting, violence ( reader slaps kaiser )

♡ synopsis — There was only two ways to describe Alexis Ness—loyal to a fault, and yours completely.

Alexis Ness thinks you’re insane.

Because who in their right mind would walk up to the star of Bastard München, Michael Kaiser, and slap him? Who would storm past the press, security, and their own boyfriend to get in the face of The Emperor himself?

But here you are—eyes blazing, voice steady despite the storm brewing in your chest—standing toe-to-toe with Michael Kaiser like you’ve got nothing to lose.

And then your hand strikes his face, sharp enough to leave a faint red mark blooming across his cheek.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you spit, words laced with venom. “How dare you talk to him like that?”

Kaiser barely flinches, though the press of his tongue to his cheek betrays his surprise. “Excuse me?” he says, voice dripping with condescension, his gaze flicking past you to where Ness is awkwardly hovering. “Ness, is this your girlfriend? You should teach her some manners.”

Your glare sharpens, and Ness stiffens behind you, already moving to intervene. “Kaiser, let’s not—”

“No, Alexis,” you cut him off, your voice slicing through the tension like a knife. “Let’s not pretend this is okay.” You take a step closer to Kaiser, finger pointed at his chest. “Do you think you’re untouchable? That you can just say whatever you want and everyone’s supposed to bow down and take it? You told him to quit soccer. Do you know how hard he’s worked for this? How much he’s given up just to stand on the same damn field as you?”

Kaiser smirks, the kind of infuriating grin that makes your blood boil. “Oh, please. If he’s so delicate that one comment from me shakes him, maybe he should quit. I don’t have time to babysit dead weight.”

“Dead weight?” you echo, incredulous. “You’re one to talk. You’d be nothing without someone to pass you the ball. Or did you forget that soccer is a team sport, Your Highness?” The tone you spoke the nickname full of nothing but sarcasm and distain.

Ness steps forward, his voice soft and pleading. “(Y/N), please, it’s fine. I—”

“It’s not fine!” you snap, turning briefly to look at him, your expression softening for a fraction of a second before you whip back around to face Kaiser.

“You’re not fine. You’re allowed to make mistakes, Alexis. You’re human, no matter how much this prick thinks he’s better than everyone else.”

Kaiser raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Wow, Ness, you’ve got yourself a firecracker. Tell me, do you keep her on a leash, or does she just run wild?”

' Oh. ' Ness thinks.

" Oh ?" You say, your eyes narrowing and before you can think twice, your hand raises again, but Ness catches your wrist just in time. “(Y/N), stop,” he murmurs, his voice strained but gentle. “It’s over. Let’s go.”

For a moment, you’re frozen, chest heaving with anger, your glare still locked on Kaiser. But then you see the way Ness’s shoulders are hunched, how his eyes are darting to the ground as if he’s trying to make himself smaller.

And just like that, the fight drains out of you.

You let Ness guide you away, your hand still trembling in his. You can feel Kaiser’s smug gaze burning into your back, but you don’t look back.

The walk back to your shared apartment is silent, the tension thick enough to choke on. Ness doesn’t say a word, and neither do you. You’re still fuming, but the anger isn’t directed at him.

When you finally step inside, the silence feels suffocating. Ness closes the door softly, setting his bag down by the wall, and you shrug off your coat with more force than necessary.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ness asks quietly, his voice cautious, like he’s testing the waters.

You shake your head, avoiding his gaze. “No.” Your voice is thick with emotion, the one syllable wavering as you hid your face from him.

But he knows you better than that. He always has.

He’s seen this pattern too many times—how your fiery outbursts always burn brightest when you’re protecting someone you love, and how the aftermath leaves you raw and vulnerable. He knows you’re trying to hold it together, but the cracks are already showing.

“(Y/N)...” Ness starts, his voice hesitant. He takes a tentative step closer, watching you carefully, like you might break if he moves too fast.

“I’m not crying,” you blurt out, your voice shaky.

His lips press into a thin line. “I didn’t say you were.”

You let out a bitter laugh, and that’s when the tears start to spill, hot and unrelenting. “He shouldn’t talk to you like that,” you choke out, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “You don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve any of it.”

Ness is by your side in an instant, his arms wrapping around you in a gentle but firm embrace. “Hey, hey,” he murmurs, his voice soothing. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not,” you whisper, burying your face in his chest. “You just don’t want to say it. You’ve always been too nice, too... loyal. Even when people don’t deserve it.”

He sighs softly, resting his chin on top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says, and the sincerity in his voice makes your heart ache. “I didn’t mean to make you so upset.”

You pull back slightly, just enough to look up at him through tear-filled eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You never do. That’s the problem, Alexis. You let people like that shaggy haired fuck walk all over you, and it’s not fair.”

He brushes a tear from your cheek with his thumb, his touch impossibly gentle. “I don’t care what Kaiser thinks of me,” he says softly. A lie, and you both know it.

“I care about you. And seeing you like this... it hurts more than anything he could ever say to me.” Alexis Ness had taken many verbal lashings from Kaiser, but nothing would hurt him more than seeing you hurt because of him.

You sniffle, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. “I just... I hate seeing people treat you like you’re nothing. Because you’re everything to me, Alexis. You always have been.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, his eyes searching yours. Then he pulls you close again, holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

“Yes, you do,” you reply fiercely, your words muffled against his chest. “You deserve everything, Alexis.”

The two of you stand there in the quiet of your apartment, holding each other as the weight of the day slowly starts to fade. You know the fight isn’t over—not with Kaiser, not with the world—but in this moment, it doesn’t matter.

All that matters is the way Alexis holds you, steady and unwavering, as if he’s trying to absorb all your pain and make it his own.

And maybe he is. Because that’s just who Alexis Ness is—loyal to a fault, and yours completely.

is ness also batshit crazy? sometimes, but i think he'd be more vulnerable with a gf

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