#I regret this so much I should be the one with her

[sai-int]

(my ask box ate your ask :/) @siriusxmunofficial said that heartbeat by childish gambino reminds them of douchebag!simon, and I couldn't agree more.

cw : groveling simon, swearing, fighting and fucking (the usual), should be read as a continuation of 'checkmate'

his flat is dark, the air thick with the stale stench of cheap whiskey and regret. it's been days, maybe a week, since he last heard from you. he hasn’t eaten in days, just shot after shot, pulling back on the glass like it’ll erase whatever ache’s settling into his chest. he hasn’t left the couch. hasn’t even bothered to try to think straight.

all he can think about is you.

your name keeps flashing across his phone, texts unanswered, calls ignored. he just knows that it’s breaking him. that his chest feels hollow every time he looks at his phone and sees the missed calls.

and the worst part? he doesn’t even know why it hurts this much. it’s just sex, right? just sex. he’s had countless women, countless bodies, nothing more than a warm hole to fuck until he’s bored. you were just a distraction, something to pass the time until the next job, the next drink, the next moment where he could bury himself in something else

but he’s not bored of you. and that’s the problem.

simon’s drunk, the bottle in his hand heavy, its contents burning down his throat in a desperate attempt to erase the memory of you. but it doesn’t work. nothing works. he brought home another girl to fill the void, some chick with a short skirt and cheap perfume from the pub, someone who doesn’t matter, someone who definitely isn't you.

her moans were too high-pitched, her cunt too loose. she didn't clench around him like you did, didn't claw at his back like you would. she wasn’t you. nothing about her was you. the way you moved, the way your body fit under his. not even close to what you gave him. she’s nothing. but he uses her, fucks her like it’s the only thing keeping him from shattering. the moment she leaves his flat, he kicks over a chair, fuming. nothing means a damn thing without you. he doesn't even realize what it is, this ache for you.

it’s just sex.

it’s not.

he can feel it. he’s desperate for you. the rush, the high, the fucking need that keeps clawing at his heart and his dick at the same time, but he doesn’t let himself think about the heart part for too long. not yet. because thinking means acknowledging the one thing he’s been too fucking proud to admit: he’s emotionally fucked up over you.

meanwhile, you’re dodging him.

you’ve been dodging his calls for days. countless calls in one night, and you just hung up each time, guilt tugging at you with every unanswered ring. he’s desperate, and you’re slowly pulling away. but you’re not blocking him. not fully. something about his name still makes you pause, still makes you want to answer and fall back into those habits you’re fighting to leave behind.

you miss him. not in the way you want to, though. in the way he wants you to. you miss the adrenaline, the chaos. the fucking rush of being wanted by someone like him. that intoxicating feeling of being his, even when you knew you weren’t.

but you’re done. you have to be.

you take a breath, head in your hands after the fifth call that night. you can’t take it anymore. it’s getting harder to ignore the ache inside you. you just want it to stop.

there’s a knock. its well past 12 and you aren't expecting anyone. you hesitate, fingers shaking as you grip the handle. and there he is.

simon. standing in your doorway, hand on the frame like he can't stand on his own

his face is lined with exhaustion and guilt, the rough edges of his demeanor even sharper tonight. he’s a goddamn mess and something cracks in you. he’s drunk and those eyes that usually look so fucking cold are filled with something else, something you can’t name.

"why’re y' ignoring me, baby?" his voice is rough, strained, his words slurring like he's barely holding it together. he pushes past you and into your flat like it's his right, pacing and running his hands through his hair like it'll give him answers. "t... talk t'me, please?"

you sigh as he stumbles in, fists clenched at your sides as you slam the door shut. "you’re really gonna show up at my door like this?" your voice cracks, but you don’t care. "you’re gonna waltz back into my life after you ruined me, and now you want me to just- what? forgive you?"

he opens his mouth to say something but stops. looks away. like he’s trying to find the right words. and when he looks back at you, there’s something in his eyes. something that makes your heart race even though you want to scream at him

"i dunno what the hell this is anymore," he spits out, frustration clear in his tone. "but i want y'back, i fuckin’- im tryin' t'fix this, doll , i-"

"fix it?" you laugh, bitter and hollow. "you don’t get to fix shit, simon. you’ve done enough damage already. you don’t want more, and you never did. what about me? what the fuck about me?"

he steps forward, his body pressing against yours, his hands smooth over your hair. "i never meant t'hurt ya. i’m just…" he trails off, free hand running through his own hair, frustration spilling over. "i dunno know how t'fix this- I miss y'so mu-"

you can’t stop it. you can’t hold it in anymore.

"you fucking miss me? is that it? you miss my cunt? you miss getting your dick wet? because you sure as hell don’t miss me." you’re crying now, tears slipping down your cheeks, mixing with the anger that’s been building up for so long.

you shove him back, hands shaking as you push the words out. "i wanted more, simon. more than just sex. i wanted something real. but you couldn’t give it to me and i can’t keep pretending that I’m okay with being nothing more than another notch on your fucking belt."

you turn away, hot, salty tears spilling as you struggle to catch your breath. this was supposed to be it. you were supposed to be done with him. but the moment his hands are on you, pulling you back against him, the fight drains out of you.

"y'think i don’t want more, yeah?" simon’s voice is a low growl in your ear as he spins you to face him, tugging you flush with him, kissing the side of your neck with urgency. "y'think i don’t want you?" he kisses you harder, sucking and nipping with a kind of desperation you’ve never seen before. "all of you?" it’s not the gentle caress you want.

"you smell like a cheap whore." your voice wavers, barely audible.

there’s a long, torturous silence and his lips still against you. you almost think he’s going to turn heel and walk away. but then he hooks his finger under your chin, snapping your face to his.

"and you smell like my captain."

and then his mouth is on yours, hot and desperate, like he’s trying to breathe you in, like he’s trying to make up for everything. and for a second, it’s almost like it’s all okay.

but it’s not. it’ll never be okay.

you’re kissing him back before you can even stop yourself, your fingers intertwine with his locks as the cycle starts all over again, and before you know it, you're both stumbling to your bedroom. you’re both still so fucking angry, but the need for each other is stronger than anything, especially now. simon’s kissing you like he’s starving, pushing you down onto the bed, his hands shaking as he pulls you under him.

and just like that, you’re back in his arms, back to what it always was.

and you let him. you let him take, because it feels like you’re being seen in a light no one else can see you in.

and then, as he's ripping your clothes off,

"this is just sex,' he mutters against your lips, but his voice falters like he doesn't even believe it himself. "just fucking sex."

you know, deep down, you’re not just some toy to him. and you’re not just a fuck to him either. you've always seen him for what he is, the mess he’s trying to hide. and you’re not gonna let him fuck this up again.

this time, when he fucks you, it’s different. it’s rougher, sure, but there’s something else in it. a quiet plea that he’s not ready to admit. and maybe, just maybe, you’ll let him prove himself. because you both know you’re stuck in this loop together.

maybe you’ll never get out of it.

and maybe you just don't want to.

douchebag!simon mlist

[starlightslvtt]

summary: Y/N and Lu’s fierce academic rivalry takes a turn when Lu’s harsh words in the tension of the moment leave him filled with regret. His heartfelt apology & attention to Y/N’s passions sparks an unexpected shift from enemies to something more. As tension turns to longing, they realize their competition was only the beginning of their story.

tropes: enemies to lovers, academic rivals, introver(ish) reader x extrovert luigi, mean/bully luigi, fluff, slow burn romance!

୨ৎ authors note:omg this fic is my first ever one so hopefully i wrote it well. I’ve had this scenario running in my mind for so long & now I’ve finally wrote about it! also this song reminds me of lulu soso much?! hopefully you all enjoy reading it. if anyone has any tips on how I can improve my writing please do share! anyways happy reading! ily all sm!!

“Studying again, Y/N?” Lu drawled, his smirk laced with condescension as he plopped down at the desk beside hers in the library. “You do know there’s an entire world outside of textbooks, right?”

Y/N didn’t even glance up from her notes. “And you do know that stuffing your face with food while pretending to be an academic weapon doesn’t actually make you one?”

His jaw tightened, a flash of irritation flickering in his caramel-brown eyes. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”

Y/N finally turned, leveling him with a cool stare. “And neither does arrogance, Mangione.”

Lu huffed, crossing his arms. “Call me that one more time, and I swear I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” she challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Beat me in our next exam? Oh wait, you’ve never done that before.”

The tension between them was suffocating, their unspoken rivalry a fire that never seemed to burn out. For years, they had been at each other’s throats—vying for the top spot, trading barbed insults between lectures, and tearing each other apart in debates. It wasn’t personal. Or at least, that’s what Y/N had always told herself.

Until one day, Lu took it too far.

“You know, Y/N,” he said, leaning against the hallway lockers, his voice laced with something crueler than usual, “it’s kind of pathetic how you spend all your time studying. No friends, no social life—what’s the point of being the smartest in the room if there’s no one around to care?”

Y/N froze, her fingers tightening around the books in her arms. The words stung more than they should have. Maybe because there was truth in them.

Lu’s smirk faltered. He hadn’t meant to say it like that, hadn’t meant for the flash of hurt in her eyes. But it was too late.

Later that evening, regret clawed at him as he sat at the dinner table, picking at his food. His mom and sisters exchanged a knowing look.

“What’s wrong?” his sister, Maria, asked, nudging him.

“I… I said something really awful to Y/N today.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know why. We were just—caught up in the competition, I guess.”

His mom frowned. “Apologize properly, like a man. Own up to your mistake, and she will forgive you.”

Lu nodded. “Yeah. I was thinking… she likes homemade cookies.”

“and how do you know that?” Luciana his other sister asked.

“I heard her talking to someone once, on the phone. She was talking about all the things she likes to do but doesn’t have time for any of it.” he mentions.

Which is how he found himself standing outside Y/N’s house the next afternoon, a baby pink container with a ceramic bow on top holding freshly baked cookies in hand, and his mom hovering beside him with a too-pleased expression. His friends—because of course they had to come and witness his misery—stood nearby, grinning.

Y/N opened the door, her eyes narrowing at the sight of him. “Mangione?”

He cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. “Uh. These are for you. I—” He sighed. “I was an ass. I shouldn’t have said that. I know you work hard, and—look, I just, I’m sorry.”

Y/N glanced at the cookies, then at his mom, then back at him. Slowly, she took them. “You made these?”

“With help,” he admitted. “But mostly me.”

His friends erupted into teasing remarks.

“Wow, Mangione’s got a soft side.”

“Just date already.” Tracy his friend yelled out, teasing.

Lu groaned. Y/N rolled her eyes, but a faint pink dusted her cheeks.

And somehow, after that, everything shifted. The insults became playful. The rivalry felt lighter. The long nights of studying became shared instead of solitary. And somewhere between the stolen glances, the laughter, the way their fingers brushed when they reached for the same book.

They stopped being enemies.

And they started being something else entirely.

[luvsferrariss]

˚⟡˖ ࣪. ʚ 💌 ɞ of shadows and sins - OO1

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Synopsis: Y/n was handpicked by their boss to help the recruiter find new players. However, it was obvious that the man wouldn’t like the girl assisting him, constantly belittling her and mentioning how weak and unqualified she was for the job. But in reality, he knew about her influence and was afraid of being replaced.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ The Salesman x Female Reader (British)

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Warnings: Typical Squid Game elements—blood, weapons, death, etc. Age gap: the reader is between 24-25 years old, while the recruiter is 40. Some angst and feelings of loneliness. The reader lives in Korea but is not Korean; she is British.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Author’s Note: Hi loves! I’m making a short series about the salesman. I hope you all like it! English isn’t my first language, so there may be mistakes—sorry about that!

next part here ! 🤍

You sighed as you watched your coworker fail once again. The man he was trying to talk to didn’t care at all and walked right past him. You just sighed, rolled your eyes, and crossed your arms, leaning against the metro wall near the stairs.

The recruiter began walking in your direction with his chin held high, a proud—or perhaps wounded—expression on his face, and you laughed at his frustration.

“What happened, Mr. ‘I-can-do-everything’?” you teased. He simply walked past you, heading up the station stairs.

“Shut up,” he muttered, and you chuckled, following behind.

“Did you manage to do anything at all?” he asked as soon as he noticed you catching up on the stairs.

“While you wasted time talking to one man, I got four. All of them on the verge of bankruptcy—desperation was almost funny, I nearly felt bad for them.” You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your beige trench coat. “With their financial struggles and my pretty face, did you really think they wouldn’t accept?” You smirked, stopping in front of him and framing your face with your hands as if showing off.

He simply walked past you, bumping your shoulder.

“You’re so full of yourself, seriously… What’s even fun about your game? No one actually likes Gonggi that much,” he scoffed.

You just shrugged. “That’s what I was told to do. And your job isn’t that exciting either, right? At least mine is getting results. Yours, on the other hand…” You glanced up at the sky as you stepped out of the train station—it was already nighttime.

“Can you shut up for a single minute? I already have to deal with you all the time. For the love of—just stop talking, girl,” he snapped.

You simply looked at him, already used to his sudden outbursts.

“Oh, baby, don’t be sad. Tomorrow will be your day, and you’ll manage to recruit some people. Besides, aren’t you the boss’s impeccable, invaluable favorite recruiter?” You pouted playfully, stopping in front of him again, this time by your car. You cupped his face in your hands, only for him to push them away and roll his eyes.

“I’m not arguing with a brat… Why don’t you just go back to your family?” he said, setting his black suitcase down and rubbing his chin. “Oh, right. I forgot. You don’t have anyone because no one can stand you. Your parents abandoned you, and your fiancé cheated on you…”

He spoke slowly, and when his gaze met yours, he noticed a brief flicker of vulnerability—but you quickly masked it with a smile.

He almost felt bad for you. Almost. But he didn’t regret saying it, and he would do it again if necessary.

“Whatever. Family is just a burden. I don’t need anyone, and I can live just fine on my own. Besides, maybe you should be worried, huh? The boss would never have sent me to you if he didn’t think you needed help. Maybe he realized just how useless you are.” You winked and got into your car.

As you started the engine and rolled down the window, the man remained standing there, lost in his thoughts, trapped by your words.

“Hey, baby, don’t walk around alone at night. This area is dangerous,” you teased before driving off.

He simply clenched his jaw, a growing resentment bubbling inside him.

He saw you as a threat. You would never take his place.

( . . . )

When you arrived at your apartment, you tossed your keys onto the table and hung your coat in the closet. You placed your shoes inside as well before closing the door.

With a sigh, you headed straight to the bathroom, undressed, and stepped into the hot shower—you really needed this. The water cascaded down your body, relaxing you, and a tired sigh escaped your lips.

Your mother and father would never have been proud of the person you became, but that was their fault. They were the ones who raised you the “right” way. Any mistake was met with punishment.

You became cold, sarcastic, and quiet around others. But no one ever really knew you. No one saw the pain, the fear, or the scars you carried from a disturbing childhood.

You had a slight fear of showing emotions or affection to anyone. There was only one person you had ever felt comfortable with, but even they betrayed you. So now, you truly had no one.

That day in the alley changed your life—but you still wondered if it was for better or worse. Everything felt strange. You felt strange.

Some days, your emotions felt numb. Other days, you just wanted to break down and cry with someone. But everyone you had trusted either betrayed you or left you traumatized. You would never trust anyone again.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turned off the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel, drying your hair with another. You went to your room, grabbed some pajamas from your closet, and got dressed. After brushing and drying your hair, you applied some perfume and walked into the kitchen to make some tea.

One of the perks of living alone and having no friends was that you could use the guest room however you wanted—so you turned it into a library.

Once your tea was ready, you grabbed a book and headed to the balcony of your penthouse. The cold air brushed against your skin, but somehow, it didn’t bother you.

[gohyemi]

no turning back

She worried. Really worried.

Is there anything that she does that makes him upset? These days, he had been ignoring her calls and even replying coldly to her whenever she texted him, which made her worried.

She has to fly to New York for her work, and it may take a month for her to get back here. To ease her heart and feelings, she is planning to see her boyfriend's happy face before she takes off. She wears a dress that he likes her to wear, preparing a light lunch for him cause she knows that he will be grumpy a bit if there isn't any food in his stomach and as an extra, she buys some flowers.

Lily flowers

As she made it to the company, she went to the floor where her boyfriend would be. As she was about to open the door, one of her boyfriend's friends greeted her.

“___, what a glad to see you!” Jeonghan went for a hug. She just smiled and greeted him back. Jeonghan see what she is holding and give her a teasing gaze.

“Wooo, I bet ddadu would be happy to see you prepare for this all” Jeonghan bumped his shoulder lightly.

“I hope so.. He's been off these days, and I'm trying to make it better. Which I hope it will,” she smiled awkwardly. Jeonghan ruffled her hair and smiled. “I bet he will, kiddo. Let's go surprise Cherry!” As Jeonghan opened the door a bit. They heard a conversation that was kinda intense. Jeonghan was in front, so she did not see what was happening inside.

“You know you’re being rude right now” Wonwoo told him.

“I can't stand it anymore. Why can’t she just notice that I'm trying to avoid her because of how clingy she is?” he said.

She was trying to be positive and thinking that he was talking about someone else, but the next words that he said already broke her heart and made her feel a lump in her throat. How could those words easily come out from him?

“Y/n should know that everyone is busy, not like her, who always has time swinging her legs. I'm kinda regretting starting this relationship” Jeonghan gripped the door handle and looked at the corner of his eyes. He saw how she lowered her head, wiped her tears and tried to hide her face.

“Oppa, I think today is not a great day for the surprise, I guess”, She said with trembling in her voice just to play it cool.“I think I might be late for my schedule. I’ll go first” Before Jeonghan could say another word, she had already walked toward the lift.

Unable to bear looking at her like that, he opened the door wide until it hit the wall, attracting people inside, including Seungcheol.

“Ya choi Seungcheol, don't you think you're being too much just now?” Jeonghan ask calmly.

“What do you mean?”

“Playing dumb, are we?” Jeonghan sarcastically said, “We heard what you just said. If you don’t want to have hard life break up with her she deserve someone better that asshole like you.”

“We?”

“She heard it all, and she, on the way out, cancelled her plan to surprise his dickhead boyfriend to make him happy again” Jeonghan went to the water dispenser, trying to calm his burning inside.

—————————

“Come on, pick up, please!” Seungcheol becomes more anxious as time goes by. He tried everything to reach you, but to no avail; it all failed. His last resort is to go to your house. But it seems like you are not home, and that is when he notices all the messages that he ignored the whole week.

Cheollie, are you ok?

I’m sorry if I did something wrong, but I left a bit of takeout at your house. I hope u like it 

He sees the last message along with a picture of her flight ticket. It made his blood drain from his face

I don't want to disturb you. I know you have been busy, but I just want to inform you that I got the show at Newyork, which I will 

“Go today…” Seungcheol mumbled. He looked at the time, and it was already your flight. He slumped down in front of your door, ruffling his hair in frustration. All of the harsh things that he said pass through his memory. How hurt she can be when she heard all of that. How he will feel if he is in her shoes

[ace-of-amaryllis]

okay actually NO I WILL say words about the new portraits now. just my thoughts on the art, feelings going into t3, and all that.

YUNO: icier than ever. as much as she's completely innocent and forgivable to us as the audience and most of us are voting based on that, I think each innocent verdict is just sinking her deeper into believing we only like her for being a pretty girl. however cold she was last trial, she's worse this one!

FUUTA: oh BOY. I love fuuta so this sort of hurts to see. I think we first need to note, obviously, amane's cult's symbol on his eyepatch. so I guess that theory was correct! beyond that, though, his facial expression and pose also just give me the creeps. He seems almost manic, like worse than haruka in AKAA and trial 2, and I'm starting to regret every verdict I've given this guy.

MUU: so, obviously she's really restrained, seeing as she got a guilty vote. she has the net over her face and restraints on her legs. her facial expression is mostly what I'd like to talk about here. she has that same sort of smirk as she had in her trial 2 portrait, so I believe that the guilty verdict hasn't gotten through to her at all (as it never seems to do in milgram!) she seems primed and ready to do some manipulating, and I don't doubt that haruka will be a big conversation topic with her.

KAZUI: he's just normal??? wtf??? everyone else is losing it and this man is just being normal??? love you kazui

AMANE: oh man oh stars oh blinding hell we have astronomically screwed ourselves over. as an amane t1 innocent believer, honestly I think she was too far gone after that t1 guilty. she's already more of a murderer than she was before-- having killed shidou and caused mahiru's death--, she's recruited fuuta to her cult, and she has the most shit eating grin alive. she's not listening to any reason we give her. we should have voted her guilty.

MIKOTO: augh, seeing him like this makes me want to cry. he's still disheveled like he was last trial, but he also looks so sad and scared. if john is really gone, there's probably massive amounts of stress and trauma and fear piled up on mikoto now. plus, if the writers actually did research on DID and plurality, john being gone could entail mikoto' amnesia of the murders disappearing. so he might remember now. that'll be fun!

KOTOKO: yeah I don't think any of us are surprised by this. the light yagami kinnie is not going to be accepting of a guilty verdict. won't be shocked if she's openly hostile towards es and even more adamant on wanting to be in their place, judging people. she's just going to get more stubborn.

ES: there's absolutely some symbolism here that I'm too stupid to figure out with the cloak falling off and the keys being in their hand. though, a friend pointed out something interesting! the square key isn't there. is it es' key? is es prisoner 011, then?

JACKALOPE: god we should kill him. jackalope soup.

HARUKA, SHIDOU, AND MAHIRU: the staticy portraits and their ghosts make me want to cry. hopefully something still happens with them...

[lunaharrygurl]

Part 3: Almost too late

Part 1. Part 2.

Her coffee is cold and her toast is soggy after 15 minutes of staring at her wall. She was sure she had eyebags and had hair sticking up all types of ways. Ana could barely sleep last night with how much her mind was running. She saw Harry last night. Harry reached out to her. Her Harry. So much time had passed, but everything felt like yesterday. Her anger and wounds from all those years ago still felt fresh.

Ana never saw Harry again after that night. No messages. No calls. No late-night knocks on her door. At first, it had been unbearable. Every time her phone buzzed, she’d hoped it was him coming back to explain himself. Every time she passed by his favorite cafe, she half-expected to see him there, sitting with his ridiculous nail polish chipping off his fingers. But he had meant what he said—when he left, he never came back.

He was her greatest love and lost, but she doesn't regret shutting him out. She chose herself. She spent forever pining over him, fantasizing about being with him, even planning to confess. He was her best friend and someone she told everything to. But it couldn’t have been enough for him. He deserved someone who was confident in themselves and was pretty enough to be with him, and that wasn't her. Unfortunately, this idea that was drafted was later cemented in her head by the man who came into her life after, Alex. 

Ana thought Alex was different. He was sweet at first—attentive, charming, always knowing the right words to make her feel special. It was great. He never yelled, never hurt her—just never chose her.

He kissed her absentmindedly, like a habit rather than a desire. He never held her hand in public, never introduced her as his girlfriend. I’m just not big on labels, he’d say, but he never had trouble calling other girls beautiful while she sat beside him, invisible.

She tried to be enough. Laughed at his half-hearted jokes, stayed quiet when he canceled plans last minute, even wore some outfits Harry used to pick out for her because she assumed all men would be the same. 

“You’re too sensitive, Ana,” he’d sigh when she worked up the courage to ask if he even wanted her. “Not everything has to be so serious.”

For years, she told herself if I change, he’ll love me. But one day, staring at her reflection—tired eyes, forced smiles—she realized she wasn’t losing him. She was losing herself.

And that was worse.

For the benefit of both of them, he walked out of her life along with all of his belongings and she never heard from him again. That’s twice a man has broken her heart and left her alone to pick up the pieces. 

She spent years thinking she wasn’t worth the love of another, that she wasn’t pretty enough to have someone be faithful and care for her. She thought she was headed in the right direction once she stopped pining after Harry, but Alex turned out to be worse. It was really hard to get out of the hole she dug herself in, but she managed with the help of her best friends. Ana is forever grateful for them and she doesn't know where she would be without their support. 

She sips her cold coffee with her eyes closed and wishes she could erase all of those harsh memories. Her head drops down with a laugh because her life is such a mess. There’s no way the day her friends want to set her up with a new romantic interest, her old best friend slash ex lover reaches out. 

Ana suddenly remembers her phone laying open in her lap with all of the unopened messages from the night prior. Her Instagram icon haunts her as she sees Harry’s message. Staring at the screen for what feels like hours, she’s surprised to see another message popped up. 

Harry’s name lights up her phone, his message a simple thread pulling at the tightly woven fabric of her resolve.

@harrystyles: Good morning. I know it’s been a while, but I saw you last night. I didn’t know if I should say something, but… I couldn’t just not. 

Holy fuck. She should just ignore it, right? She doesn’t know if she would survive if she let him back in her life. Her fingers hover above the screen, the cursor blinking like it's waiting for her heart to catch up. Yeah, she should let the past stay buried, untouched and undisturbed. But curiosity is louder than anything, and she remembers he still needed to explain himself. 

@harrystyles: Don’t ignore me. Please. 

Her resolve slips, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. His persistence was always cute.

Why now? she wonders.

Her thumb hovers, then she types, deletes, types again.

@anniewhiskey: Hi. Not ignoring, just processing. Didn’t think I’d hear from you again. Or even see you. 

Ugh, there. Her heart feels like it’s going to explode.

She presses send.

Ana stares at the screen, recognizing the ache of loneliness she's carried for years. She misses being wanted, loved—held like she matters. The idea of Harry being that person again makes her chest warm.

But she can’t focus on that. Not now.

She puts her dishes in the sink and starts to get ready for her night shift. After getting her nursing license, she decided to come back home and work at her local hospital since she loved her community and it felt right. Her usual shift is 6 pm to 6 am, but after pulling so much overtime, her boss is letting her get off early. Ana likes taking the graveyard shift because it's a little less busy and she just enjoys the night better. Right after she clocks in, she checks with the day nurses to get an update on any people who need to be attended to and any news she should be aware of. She finally sits at the front reception desk and on instinct, she pulls out her phone.

A new message from Harry.

@harrystyles: I didn’t think I’d see you either. But now that I have, I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m sorry, Ana. For everything. Can we talk?

Hovering by a vending machine, Ana stares at Harry's message. Her heart is thudding with an annoying mix of excitement and dread. She tells herself to focus on work, but the words replay in her head like a song stuck on loop.

She decides to ignore his message for the better part of her shift, pleading with herself to move on. Around midnight, she gives in.

@anniewhiskey: why now? you didn’t seem to care when you left.

She sends it before she can overthink. No going back now.

Minutes later, her phone buzzes.

@harrystyles: Of course I care. I just didn’t know how to face you.

Ana’s chest tightens. She can’t tell if it’s anger or longing—or both.

Her fingers fly across the screen.

@anniewhiskey: how come I haven't seen you in years? why didn't you come back?

The reply comes faster this time.

@harrystyles: Because I was a coward. And I thought you were better off without me.

Before she can respond, her name is called over the intercom—an emergency coming in. She shoves her phone in her pocket, heart racing for reasons that have nothing to do with work.

Ana slips her phone back into her pocket, but Harry’s words cling to her like static. I was a coward. The weight of them sits heavy, lingering even as she rushes into the chaos of the ER.

The lights buzz faintly overhead, the sterile smell of antiseptics grounding her to the present. A trauma case rolls in— a car accident. Blood. Fractures. Panic. She throws herself into autopilot, her hands steady even though her mind isn’t. She moves through the motions: checking vitals, assisting the doctor, barking orders to the newer nurses with calm authority. This is what she’s good at—fixing things, having control. But she can’t stitch up the parts of herself that still feel broken.

In the rare quiet moments, she finds herself zoning out. Her clipboard feels heavier, her notes messier. She keeps replaying everything—Harry’s message, his absence, Alex’s indifference. She wonders why the hell she still cares.

Between patients, she leans against the cold counter of the nurse’s station, staring at the clock, willing it to move faster. You’re better off without me, Harry had said. But was she? She left pieces of herself scattered in the years after he was gone, and she’s not sure if she ever really picked them back up.

A colleague snaps her out of her daze. “You good, Ana?”

She forces a smile and hums. “Yeah. Just tired.”

But it’s more than that. She’s tired of pretending she’s unaffected. Tired of guarding her heart like it’s made of glass when, really, it’s already cracked from years of neglect—by Harry, by Alex, by herself.

As the end of her shift nears, she pulls out her phone again. No new messages. She debates sending something. I hate you for leaving. Too harsh. I missed you. Too raw.

Instead, she types:

@anniewhiskey: I don’t know what you want from me, Harry.

She stares at the screen, thumb hovering. Then—send.

Ana clocks out, steps into the cool early morning air, and lets herself finally breathe.

The cool wind runs through her hair and her hand instinctively reaches for her neck. She’s been having an ache for a couple of weeks from how badly she’s been sleeping. Rolling her head from side to side, she can see from the corner of her eye a car’s headlights turning off. Ana decides she had enough alone time and moves to go back inside when her name is called.

“Annie, wait!”

Her eyes widened. Stunned, she quickly turns around to see the person who's haunted her mind for years. Still looking handsome as ever, Harry runs up the sidewalk to catch up with her. You’ve got to be kidding me. 

“I just want to talk, please.”

Ana takes a step back, instinctively creating distance like its armor. 

Harry slows as he reaches her, hands up slightly like he’s afraid she might bolt. His hair’s messier than she remembers, like he’s been running his fingers through it all night. He’s wearing his same leather jacket she always loved, the one she used to tease him about. It’s stupid how that detail makes her chest ache.  

“I didn’t mean to surprise you,” he says, eyes searching hers. “I just—I didn’t know if you’d be willing to see me again. I had to see you.”  

Ana lets out a sharp laugh, bitter and cold. “Well, I’ve got a pretty good reason for not wanting to see you again. ” She crosses her arms, not because she’s cold, but because it feels like the only thing holding her together.  

Silence stretches between them, heavy with everything left unsaid. It’s around 1 am at this point.  The quiet of the night wraps around them. The sounds of ambulance sirens and people rushing inside start to feel distant, like it’s just her and Harry in the world. 

“I just—” he starts, then stops, raking a hand through his hair. “I’ve thought about this moment for years, but now that you’re here, I don’t know what to say that won’t sound like an excuse.”  

Harry steps closer, not enough to breach her space, but enough to make her breath hitch. His voice softens. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to be what you deserved.”  

She hates how her heart clenches. She can’t help herself from being upset with how stressed he sounds. Her eyes start to sting and she has a deep frown on her face, trying very hard not to break in front of him.“You didn’t come back.”  

“I know,” he whispers. His eyes are glassy now, like he’s been carrying this guilt longer than she thought. “And I’m so sorry. I was scared. But not because I didn’t care. I cared too much, and it messed with my head. I thought leaving would make it easier for both of us.”  

Ana feels like she’s vibrating, every nerve on edge. “It wasn’t easier for me.” Her voice cracks on the last word, betraying her. She’s so angry with him and she hates that she still wants to be in his arms.

“You just decided for the both of us that we deserved to be apart.” Her voice is thick with tears and grief she never was able to express before. “You just left me! Alone! I thought I meant more to you, that you actually cared about me. And you left. ” 

“Annie, my goal was never to hurt you. I just… I wanted to tell you in person. I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped—” He cuts himself off, like the words are too much, too soon. 

But then he steps closer and raises his head up and looks her dead in the eyes. “I never stopped loving you.” 

Time stops.

“What?”

“God, I love you Annie. I have always loved you. The minute I laid eyes on you, I knew you’d be the death of me.”

“You're lying.” Her voice shakes. “You’re a liar. You don't… love me. It’s not possi-”

“Baby, you are so goddamn beautiful, it hurts not to be looking at you. The thought of you alone makes my heart stop. I have been in misery all these years and have been living in regret for not coming back and admitting how much control you have over me.” His hands reach out for her. He brings his left hand up to her cheek and cradles it. 

“I should've knocked down that door and told you the truth. I should’ve stayed until you came out to tell you the truth. I should've fought for you. For us. And that's my biggest regret. But seeing you again, there's no way I can make that same mistake. I need you annie. And I'm not leaving this time.”

Ana wants to believe everything but remembers what happened last time. “You were with other people. You were having sex with other women.” 

“I lied,” he breathes out. “I lied to everyone. I was embarrassed that I had only been with you and not keeping up with the reputation I was given. I was trying to impress them when I should've been trying to impress you.”

“How do I know you're serious?”

“Look at me.” He leans in and presses their foreheads together. “Because I’ll prove it every day if you let me. I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you. Be with me. I love you, Annie. I never stopped.”

Ana squeezes her eyes shut. She’s battling fear and hope. She’s held onto her anger for so long—it’s been her armor. But standing here, with him holding her like she’s the most fragile thing in the world, she realizes something terrifying: she’s still in love with him. She always has been.

Her voice is barely a whisper, shaky and raw. “I hate you.”

A soft, broken laugh escapes him, his forehead pushing gently against hers. “I know.”

She takes a trembling breath, her fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket like she’s afraid he’ll disappear again. And maybe that’s what makes her finally say it.

“But I still love you,” she whispers, tears slipping down her cheeks. She pulls back just enough to look him in the eyes. 

“Yes?” he echoes, his voice filled with disbelief, hope lighting up his face like the sunrise.

“Yes,” she repeats, her lips quivering. “Just… don’t you dare leave me again.”

“Never,” he breathes, crashing his lips against hers, tasting salt and promises in the space where pain used to live.

A/N:

ahhh done. thank you so much reading, you are deeply appreciated. I wanted to wrap the story up with as much angst and have them end up together as well. i'm happy for ana and there is more to her story! this is the last part to the story, but I plan to add more short stories about their love. any feedback is appreciated, would love to hear what you think!!

[lampochkaart]

Are asks still open? If so then I would like to talk about the thing that bothered me in Chapter 2 of V3. I'm still angry that Kirumi killed Ryoma. She took advantage of a man with almost no will to live and expects everyone to feel sympathy for her because she is the "Prime Minister of Japan" or whatever the writers called her. And before anyone gets upset, I know that in Japan, politicians are seen in a more positive light. But God, seeing no one in the game actually caring about Ryoma, but instead feeling guilty about Kirumi makes me sick to my stomach. Like I don't care if she is a prime minister, there are thousands that can easily replace her and potentially run a country better than she ever could. In conclusion, Chapter 2 is my least favorite chapter because I felt as though the trial was dragging on and on, Ryoma was killed for a pointless reason and Kirumi was just the worst person for pulling the victim card Ryoma was forgotten. (Sorry if my writing is a little confusing.)

Asks are always open, I like talking about drv3!

But I don't think Kirumi should be hated too much. It's not that simple

Important thing to note is that Ch.2 motives were very much specifically targeting Kirumi and Ryoma. We haven't seen all of the videos, of course, but we have two videos made for others that we can use as a reference. In both Kaito's and Kokichi's videos someone important to them is shown and then it's vaguely hinted that something bad happened to them. Just a basic setup for this type of motive. And I think we can probably assume that videos of others are more or less the same. But Kirumi's and Ryoma's videos are different.

In Kirumi's video it's heavily emphasized how much responsibility is on her, how important that job is. And for Kirumi it's a very big deal. Her whole thing is that she thinks she always has to serve people, and if she accepted a request, she has to complete it. Maybe there's someone who can do this job for her and maybe even better than her. But her core belief is that if she accepted request it means she has to fulfill it. She can't just refuse or let someone else do it. All that is already way too much pressure. And that pressure is also added to the pressure from all the requests that she was getting this chapter. The game was very obviously showing that the pressure on Kirumi was growing and she was trying to bear more than she could handle. So, given all this, it makes sense that Kirumi would eventually snap and do something drastic.

As for Ryoma's motive video, it was just a shot straight to the heart. He has no one. This video is brutal in it's simplicity. And the wording was very mocking. It completely shatters Ryoma's shaky hope that he'll find a reason to try to survive with everyone.

The way I see it, Ch.2 motive was made specifically for Kirumi and Ryoma. As soon as they saw those videos their fate was sealed. Everyone else was given a motive video just so it wouldn't be obvious (neither for the characters nor for the player).

It really does suck that everyone was more focused on Kirumi than on Ryoma, but there's an explaination for that too. People just weren't really close to Ryoma. It's the same thing that was with Rantaro. Sure, it's sad that he died, but he just wasn't that close with anyone. So when he died their main priority was investigating and finding the culprit, because that's what they need to do to survive. It would be nice if they expressed a bit more regret about Ryoma's death, but I don't think they should be strongly blamed for not doing it.

With Kirumi it's different. Everyone relied on her, a lot of people even specifically requested her services. And they watched her break down (that moment where she screamed and tried to run for her life, because that's clearly the moment she completely shattered under the pressure) and then get killed in a torturously brutal way right in front of their eyes. It makes sense that they're gonna feel really bad about her.

It's sad, but it kinda makes sense if you look at it from that point of view. Usually when people grieve, they grieve for the ones that are closer to them. Both figuratively and literally.

Also when I comes to dr, it doesn't focus too much on grief. Mostly the ones that grieve are the ones that were friends with the deceased. Shuichi grieves for Kaede throughout the whole game. She's also a important character narratively so she and her wish are also brought up by others. And from the characters' perspective a lot of them were sad about her because she had a good intentions and posthumously became their symbol of hope. Rantaro was mostly brought up only when he was plot relevant. The student council was upset about Angie, but Angie and Tenko's deaths were mostly affecting just Himiko. Kiyo didn't have anyone he was close to. People were very upset about Gonta because he was very nice and didn't deserve to be put through so much suffering. Miu was mostly brough up in the context of the 4th case and her inventions. Maki and Shuichi were heartbroken about Kaito's death, but out of everyone only Kiibo took Kokichi's sacrifice to heart. And finally Kirumi and Ryoma. Kirumi was always offering her services to everyone and she was always making delicious food, so everyone got somewhat attached to her. While Ryoma wasn't really becoming close friends with anyone and sometimes was even simply avoiding others. It's tragic, but that's just how things are.

There are also some characters that are sad about every death, but I didn't bring them up right now.

I wanna specify that I'm not talking about all that to say that Kirumi deserves more pity than Ryoma and that she shouldn't be judged for what she did. She absolutely should be held accountable for her actions. What she did was really wrong. She didn't just kill Ryoma, she did it in a very painful way, and then tried to frame another vulnerable person for that murder. She was trying to get away with it and that meant everybody else would die. She lied and even used such underhanded tactics like manipulating everyone's feelings. That's very cruel and undeniably bad. But I'm saying that her actions make sense for her specific character in that specific situation.

I agree that it would've been great if Ryoma lived. He could've had a nice arc about finding reasons to keep going, to survive, to fight. Slowly bonding with people and realising that they're his new reason to live. But the tragic thing about Danganronpa is that sometimes characters die without getting their arc. There are a lot of characters so it's impossible to let everyone have their development. Inevitably some of them would die way too early. Some even die during the arc they're going through. This happens in every game.

It's fine to dislike characters. You can still hate Kirumi. It's valid to dislike characters that killed the characters you like. But I just wanted to explain that there's nuance to this whole case. It's not as simple as Kirumi heartlessly killing Ryoma and no one caring for him because they're all awful. Things aren't just black and white. Most dr cases are more complicated than just someone killing because they're cruel and heartless. And that one is not an exeption.

On one hand, yes, Kirumi really did kill Ryoma — a person with almost no will to live. But on the other, she was specifically given the motive that pushed her to do it and Ryoma got the motive that broke him and made him give up. The motive was specifically tailored to make that outcome happen. And, yes, that really sucks that everyone payed more attention to Kirumi than to Ryoma. But also that's a pretty understandable reaction given everyone's relationship with either of them. I'm not saying it's right, but it can be understood

[amesul]

You should do diana and ready is her younger girlfriend and ready is being a brat so diana punishes her by spanking her and ready is dripping onto Diana's thigh

sorry for the delay baby, this was rushed a lot so i hope you enjoy this bc i didnt proofread. ˚⊹♡

“oh fuck you!” you shout, irritation consuming you as diana ate the last piece of cake, knowing how much you wanted it, even though it wasn’t for you.

she was immediately startled by ur sudden outburst.

sure, you had ur moments, but to get angry over a slice of cake? she knew you were stubborn, and she also knew that you weren’t on ur cycle.

“nena, calm down.” she uttered, but you didn’t listen, instead — you even rolled your eyes as a mumbled “bitch” flew out of ur mouth.

she quickly heard you and nodded her head in a maniac way, processing every single crumb of movement from you and the grating scoff you had no shame in avowing.

you urself didn’t know why you were acting so childish for a piece of cake, and being so oblivious of how diana was gonna react.

oh right. because in a blur, ur whole body was sitting on her lap, not caring an ounce about the half bitten cake, and shit — you didn’t know how u got naked under her tight grip on ur neck.

you nearly gasped, wondering how and what just occurred so swiftly to get you needy and apologetic.

“say that again, please.“ diana mumbled, a cold trail of dark matter right behind her tone as she flicked her tongue against her lips.

she wanted you to say it. just so she could make sure you never call her that again after.

you were still trying to process, but the little agony in you won.

“bitch!”

now you didn’t mean to nearly shout, but all the pent up tension was getting to you and it surely wasn’t the time to do that, only because diana had crawled her hands to ur ass.

she chuckled, lowering her head from how funny it was for her.

you were being a brat.

not only to her but certainly triggering her calm state.

u started to get fret, thinking about how dumb and foolish you have been acting, and now you knew you were gonna get ur consequences because when diana gets tense with you, you end up saying sorry.

hands running over both of ur cheeks, her light touch raising hairs and goosebumps, only exciting you for what could be possibly be coming.

"you can count, right?" she asked, voice laced with sarcasm.

"yeah," u replied, your heart beginning to race a little faster when you felt the familiar fuzzy black handcuffs click around ur wrists. you started to regret being the bitch in this situation.

"well don't just mourn now, count to fucking ten if you're so smart."

with a nod you began, easily going through the numbers you’d learned in primary school just to have diana chuckle at you. "that was great, surprisingly. good job. now, lets see if you can count while your ass is burning, shall we? what number should we go to sweets?"

"fifteen," you answered quickly, barely giving it any thought and just choosing a number u hoped she'd be satisfied with.

"good choice," she agreed, bringing a quick hand down on ur bare bottom, the loud slap filling the room, and most likely slipping under the crack of the doorway and spilling out into the neighborhood.

"one!" you yelped, surprised at the stinging rising on ur right cheek. the second came down on ur left, a bit harder than the first. "two." another on the right. "th-three." the left. "ah! f-four." right. "five!" right again. "s-i-ix."

"your voice is cracking," she pointed out, hands cupping ur red, burning bum and thumbs digging into the rounds of your flesh. "can't handle it?"

"i- i apologize," you said through gritted teeth, growling out a "se-ven," when she brought her hand down again, this one being the worst of all.

tears formed in ur eyes but u forced them away, breathing heavily into the blankets around yourself.

she ignored ur apology, watching your teared face focused on trying to let the pain be itself.

ur counts were getting louder and louder, her slaps rougher and rougher, and by the time you were at twelve u were almost screaming them out, hissing and gasping and feeling incredibly embarrassed at not only how much you were enjoying this and how horny you had become, but how loud you actually got.

anybody could hear the couple, and diana made it known that that's what she wanted.

"tch," she began, cradling ur ass in her palms and occasionally brushing her fingertips over your lower back. "you know very well i don’t tolerate ur bratty behavior, little girl. s’, i suggest you scream these lasts few, yeah?”

"but dia-“

"do you wanna go to twenty?" she warned. "twenty-five?"

“n-no."

"then scream," she growled, drawing her arm back and slapping you with a quick swing of her hand. u cried out the number thirteen, breathing heavily with half your face buried in her neck, hot breath warming her nape around. the next two were the same, harsh slaps to ur bum, counted out by the distressed sound of ur voice, the fifteenth one hurting the most but at the same time feeling so fucking good in the worst way possible.

once diana was done she left her lips trailing up from ur stomach before brushing over ur neck and connecting with your mouth in a quick, sloppy kiss.

"you didn’t get wet did ya?" she mumbled more to herself than to you, reaching under u and slipping her index finger inside ur throbbing pussy, easily slipping in at how wet you were.

"mh’ y-yea," you confirmed, whimpering as two fingers pinched ur spongy clit, feeling it wobble at the contact.

"want me to do somethin’ about it?"

"please."

"and what is that?" her fingers playing around ur soft, dripping, and who could forget — soaked entrance.

"i want your strap."

"how so, love?"

"god, fuck me like this. fuck me from behind i don't care. i need to feel you in me, please dee."

diana paused for a moment before letting a laugh slip her lips. "begging so soon?" she smirked, shaking her head as she licked her lips subtly, “no.” she deadpanned, “this cute pussy doesn’t deserve my attention, not after your ugly behavior.”

“but-“

“but nothing, i’ll leave you the rest of the slice, but for now you don’t get anything.”

an. yall know i love cliffhangers

[kathlare]

plus-one decision

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Shawn discovers the invitation, their conversation forces her to confront the situation head-on. Seeking reassurance and control over the narrative, she makes a bold decision—one that might complicate things more than she anticipates.

Wordcount: 1.0 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

March 30th, 2022 - London, United Kingdom

The soft hum of London traffic filtered through the windows of Amelie’s apartment, mixing with the sound of Benny purring loudly on her lap while Björn knocked over a candle on the coffee table—again. She sighed, absentmindedly reaching for her phone to check her messages.

She had already confirmed with Oliver and Sav that she would be attending their wedding on April 30th, a decision she had initially made without much thought. But as she sat in her apartment, the reality of it settled in.

She would be alone.

Lando’s friends would be there. His family would be there. And of course, Luisinha would be there.

Just the thought of it made her stomach twist.

She didn’t regret her decision to go, but she hated the idea of standing in a room full of people who knew her history with Lando. She could already hear the whispers, the stolen glances, the judgmental looks.

And then, as if the universe had decided to mess with her even more, she heard Shawn’s voice from the kitchen.

—What’s this?—

She turned her head and saw him standing by the counter, holding a cream-colored envelope in his hands. Her heart dropped.

—Nothing,— she said a little too quickly, setting Benny down from her lap and standing up.

Shawn raised an eyebrow, flipping the envelope over and reading the elegant calligraphy. —Oliver Norris and Savannah Wilson request the pleasure of your company…— he read aloud, trailing off before glancing up at her. —You got invited to Lando’s brother’s wedding?—

Amelie sighed, running a hand through her hair. —Yeah, I mean… Oliver and Sav invited me. We were friends before everything, you know?—

He hummed, his fingers tracing over the embossed details of the invitation. —Are you going?—

She hesitated. She had already confirmed, but saying it out loud felt heavier. —Yeah. I told them I’d be there.—

Shawn’s expression was unreadable as he placed the invitation back on the counter. —And Lando will be there.—

It wasn’t a question, but it didn’t need to be. She already knew.

—Obviously.— She tried to sound indifferent, but there was an edge to her voice. Shawn caught it, his gaze softening.

—And you’re okay with that?—

She crossed her arms, feeling defensive. —I don’t care what Lando does. We haven’t spoken in almost a year. It’s not like it matters.—

Shawn gave her a look. The kind that told her he knew she was full of shit.

—Amelie…—

—What?— she snapped, before immediately regretting it.

He sighed and shook his head. —Nothing.—

Silence stretched between them, tense and thick. Björn, sensing the shift in atmosphere, jumped onto the counter and promptly knocked the invitation onto the floor.

Amelie let out a breath and bent down to pick it up, staring at the names printed so neatly. She had been so sure about going, but now? Now it felt like she was walking straight into a disaster.

She bit her lip before speaking again. —You should come with me.—

Shawn looked surprised. —To the wedding?—

—Yeah.— She straightened up, gripping the invitation in her hands. —I mean, why not? It’s a plus-one invite, and it’ll be… nice to have you there.—

It wasn’t a lie, not entirely. Having Shawn by her side meant she wouldn’t have to face Lando alone, wouldn’t have to navigate the awkward stares and whispered gossip without backup. And maybe—just maybe—it would send a message.

Lando would be there with Luisinha, that much was certain. And Amelie wasn’t going to be the ex who showed up alone, like she still had something to prove. No, if she was going to walk into that room filled with Lando’s family and friends, she was going to do it with someone who made her look untouchable.

Shawn hesitated, studying her. —Are you sure that’s a good idea?—

—Why wouldn’t it be?— She shrugged, forcing a casualness she didn’t quite feel. —It’s just a wedding. And besides, it’s Oliver and Sav’s day, not mine or Lando’s. No one’s going to care that we’re there.—

He didn’t look convinced, but after a beat, he nodded. —Alright. If you want me there, I’ll come.—

Relief washed over her, though she wasn’t sure if it was because she wouldn’t have to deal with Lando alone or because Shawn hadn’t asked any more questions.

—Thank you.— She stepped forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He smiled against her mouth, his hands settling on her waist.

—You don’t have to thank me, Amelie.—

She forced a smile, but the knot in her stomach refused to loosen.

Björn let out an indignant yowl, leaping onto the table and knocking over yet another candle. Shawn laughed, pulling away. —I swear, that cat’s got a vendetta against your furniture.—

—He has a vendetta against everything.— Amelie scooped up Björn before he could cause more damage, his fluffy body squirming in protest. Benny, still curled up on the couch, let out a pleased purr, basking in the attention he wasn’t even receiving.

Shawn sat back against the counter, watching her carefully. —So… you and Lando. What actually happened?—

Amelie froze for a fraction of a second, but she masked it well, placing Björn back down before turning to face him. —We were friends. Then we weren’t. That’s it.—

It wasn’t a lie, not really.

Shawn exhaled through his nose, as if debating whether to push further. But in the end, he just nodded. —Alright.—

She let out a quiet breath, relieved.

Because the last thing she needed was for him to know how badly she had once let Lando Norris break her heart.

[stardustizuku]

People fundamentally misunderstand Madoka and what Madoka is trying to say.

And as someone who’s only ever made think-pieces about madoka’s impact on the magical girl genre, and never about what it’s actually trying to say, I do feel partially responsible for that.

There’s this TikTok user - which honestly TikTok itself is the bane of all my existence bcs it boiled down everything wrong with Tumblr with half the attention span and a quarter of the critical thinking - that keeps trying to frame Sayaka (and the audience) as a dumbass, and that everyone else as inherently better person.

This creator does so by saying that

“Sayaka should never have wished for what she did, because that was a stupid wish”.

While the story itself tells you, in part, that that is true - it’s missing the GLARING CONCLUSION that the show itself is telling you otherwise.

Yes, Sayaka’s wish is what leads to her ultimate demise. Her wish is the source of all her problems. Yes, she never was meant to take this grandiose role of a savior and by doing so, doomed herself and her friends to a tragic end.

But uhm

1) NONE OF THIS IS SAYAKA’S OWN FAULT.

(I feel a bit insane for having to defend Sayaka, because I believe she works best when you acknowledge she’s a complex character who did dumb stuff, but is obviously a teenager trying to do something right. I NEVER BELIEVED people in 2025 would be trying to frame her the same way idiots did in 2011. God has TikTok fried people’s brain).

Kyubey is blatantly manipulating Sayaka, the viewer and the girls. He knows she’s a weak link, with a tendency to self sacrifice. So, he exploits her vulnerabilities to destroy her and get to Madoka.

If you see the entirety of Madoka, and somehow are still childish enough to leave the show thinking that Sayaka was stupid - you are not mature enough to be watching Madoka. What you are doing is victim-blaming.

This person portrays Sayaka as a privileged girl. Someone who had no need to enter the cycle of abuse that being a Magical Girl is. A cycle that targets lonely and disadvantaged girls, with no other options. But, because Sayaka HAD other options, this makes her the odd one out. The one that shouldn’t have been there.

They present Sayaka’s decision as a foolish one. One that had no reason to happen.

AND, while to a degree it is true, that’s to the whole picture.

(For one, the fact that she had other options, doesn’t mean that getting manipulated into the wrong one is any less tragic. It shows that ANYONE can be manipulated into signing away your destiny, if you for a fraction of a second look away. She had a bright future but because one person (Kyubey) led her astray, she wound up dead in less than a month. The same it can happen with anyone you know).

But also, yes, Sayaka made a dumb decision. But she made that dumb decision because she was manipulated into it.

Kyubey was hiding a shit-ton of information. He never properly explained that being a Magical Girl means constantly fighting Grief itself and the possibility of one day becoming a Witch. He never explained the fact that it could mean dying on the job. He never explained they’re all walking corpses with no soul. He never guides them into choosing a proper wish, or what that wish will entail. The only ones who try to inform Sayaka are other Magical Girls, who made a desperate wish and now feel remorse or regret. Girls trapped in the exact same cycle of abuse. Unsure if they made the right decision or not, and unable to properly tell Sayaka if she should or not. Because they have to gaslight themselves into a truth that might-not-be to avoid going mad with regret.

Mami tries to dissuade them, but she’s so lonely and searches for admiration and connection so much - that she inadvertently makes it sound really cool and something they would want. She “tries” to warn Madoka against it, but folds extremely quickly.

She’s nowhere the paragon of Magical Girls that this creator has painted her as. Quite the opposite. Had she won against Charlotte, she would have successfully recounted Madoka and Sayaka - convincing two girls who had no need to enter this hell to do so.

AND IN THE END - she did convince Sayaka. Enough for her to become one a few days after her death. Thinking that she could fill the void she left.

It’s very apparent that the “dumb decision” she made, was one IN HINDSIGHT.

People in the middle of the manipulation, cannot be considered dumb. They’re simply working on the limited information they have on the situation.

If you come away from the show, believing that Sayaka was the one was dumb for making that wish, and NOT KYUBEY IS A BASTARD FOR DESTROYING GIRLS LIVES…you have a problem.

AND NUMBER TWO, and more importantly, THE SHOW DOES NOT AGREE WITH THAT SENTIMENT.

While Sayaka made a decision to trade her life for a guy’s hand - she never regrets it. Not in her sound mind, at least. When her life is falling apart, when she’s infected with grief, and slowly realizes what her life will be like for the rest of the time, yes. She thinks she did something extremely stupid. But I believe, when pushed to our darkest hours, we might even see the things that bring us the most joy - as something that brought only misery.

(As an immigrant, my achievements back home feel extremely useless and stupid and like a dumb waste of time. But that’s not true. In that similar way, things we are extremely proud of, may make us feel ashamed and resentful when we hit our lowest points)

But when Madoka rewrites the universe, she lets Sayaka keep her wish. She lets Sayaka become a Magical Girl, and Sayaka (in her sound mind) is GRATEFUL for that.

Because here’s the thing - this creator seems to be under the assumption that Sayaka deep down wanted something in return. That she was attempting to be selfless, while wanting something, therefore she’s still selfish.

The idea that, if you’re hungry and I give you my last cookie, if I actually wanted it, that makes my decision to give it, a stupid one. Because you wanted that cookie, why would you give it away? You should have eaten it! It makes no sense!

When, as Madoka itself says, you wanted the other person not to be hungry. And you shouldn’t be punished just because you still wanted that cookie. The fact that you wanted to help, is enough. And the fact that you wanted it, doesn’t make you a terrible person!

In fact, even if you don’t have the strength, it’s commendable that you attempted to do something. There is no weakness in kindness.

By Rebellion, once the ability to become a witch has been stripped from Sayaka’s fate, it becomes quite clear that the paragon of magical girls is NOT MAMI. It’s Sayaka. She’s the one who wants to be a Magical Girl to save other people, with very little personal interest aside from Kiyoko. She’s the one that is paralleled as the rival to Homura (A stand in for selfish love). If Homura is the Devil, Sayaka is the knight tasked with saving Madoka. Sayaka is the one that gets rewarded the most, because she sacrificed the most, for her ideals.

That’s actually a core theme that Madoka has.

Madoka gets this EXTREMELY bad rep, in regards to its themes. Because edgelords on the internet seem to believe it’s “a dark and grim take on magical girls”, when its in fact - a normal ass take in the Magical girl genre. Plenty of MG animes are dark and mature, Madoka is actually on the tamer side, and Madoka itself has a positive and hopeful take on both fate and hope. It argues that you CAN change the world by having empathy and being kind, that you CAN save everyone and that you CAN be helpful, if you want to. None of your actions are useless or nor do they lose meaning.

You’re not supposed to be selfish to survive. You can be selfless, you can attempt to save people, even if you don’t have the full strength.

So, this entire person’s take on Madoka, that comes from this cynic and cruel angle of “yeah duh, Sayaka was dumb and Mami was smart for not being selfless” is not only boring but stupid.

It adds nothing to the conversation, aside maybe fodder for someone to ACTUALLY engage with the material. It’s banal and quite frankly, boring. I’ve had more entertainment out of a Danny Motta commentary.

[icecoldbeauty]

Your friends sound wonderful, happy to hear you've got people like that around for you! I wish I'd been able to be that close to others at my age. I'm thankful to have the friends I do now of course, they all mean a lot to me- but sometimes I just wonder if I might've been happier if I'd had even just one or two friends myself back then- if then I could look back on my childhood with more fondness than I do… I enjoyed my gym challenge and my league days and all, but I try to avoid thinking about anything before then really, because it wasn't good. I usually feel worse after looking back upon those memories than I had beforehand. Maybe it could've been different, but… well, I'd like to think that I still turned out okay enough in the end, and I'm happy with the way I am and people I surround myself with now.

I actually do think becoming famous did a fair bit of good for me as a person, but my goodness that couldn't ever stop me from despising some of the things that come with it- all the reporters and interviewers asking the most ridiculous questions on earth and writing even more ridiculous things about me, people invading my personal space and privacy, getting recognized everywhere, treated like I'm better than everyone else just for existing- I don't miss things like that at all. (Frankly I think I'm too afraid of what it could possibly say to check my own Wikipedia page, and I've now made so much more information public and easily accessible that could be put on there… I do NOT want some of the silly things I've posted to be on an article about me, no thanks, not going to find out if they're there!)

Wait, you're the only one that lives there? I thought my little island of 20 people was abysmal before this, but 'only resident' would top that on list of worst living situations for sure. In general I just think it's nice that someone else actually wants to hear me, haha! Not too many people are really jonesing to listen to a middle-age lady talk about her youth and whatnot. I almost wish I'd had someone willing to listen to me go on about some of these things sooner honestly!

Really, I've already spent so much time regretting that I'd kept it to myself so long- but that was also because I'd already convinced myself it was over, that I'd messed up permanently and would never get to go back or try again… In truth, I think a lot of it was just… me being scared, as silly as it feels to say. But maybe you're right and I should just… at least try. At least let her know while I've still got time to… Perhaps writing to her will be in order after this sends. Ah, crazy to think all I really needed all this time was a chance to talk about it and get a little push! I was really badly stuck in my own head about it all and overthinking it for the longest time, wasn't I? Alas, I always have had an unfortunate penchant for such a thing- and don't oft have someone around to talk me down from it anymore.

I almost wonder if it'd be more efficient for other regions like Kanto to use a similar system… Especially things like a seasonal Gym circuit and this whole endorsement idea, it actually does seem rather smart. Goodness, I'd have loved not having a year-round system when I worked in the League… Loved my job, but doing it almost every day all year is exactly as exhausting as it likely sounds! Also what is with so many world-ending plots happening during League battles?! The fact I've heard more than one instance of this now is insane and honestly almost comical. Are all the criminals plotting specifically to ruin some 12 year olds championship battles for some reason? How else does this happen more than once like that? Also, why are there so many criminals trying to destroy the world to begin with, I swear I've heard of this in every region by now- I'm starting to think that someone trying to commit atrocities and getting stopped by actual children IS a normal Saturday with how many times I've heard it! Insane it is, I'm glad the Indigo league didn't have too many incidents that level of crazy after Giovanni.

Oh yeah wait you're too old to know what inkay games is my bad

Oh, please, I’m only twenty-three.

[ he’s not old. don’t make that mistake again. ]

—💎

[londonfoginacup]

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[deiaiko]

#23 - Kiss

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[myreia]

— v. raison d'être

It was never going to last. They knew it from the beginning, all of them. Their time in the First was temporary, fleeting. For some, that would have been enough to give pause, to keep distance. For them, it made these moments all the more precious—even when it was difficult, even when it was unfair. Ryne knows they are both proud of her. That will never change, even when they live in separate worlds. It is a bittersweet thing to say goodbye, to close one chapter and begin the next. But change is necessary, a fundamental aspect of life. There is no sense in clinging to the past when the future—with all its countless possibilities—lies ahead. There is no looking back. Only forwards.

[crossdressingdeath]

One of the most fascinating things about Solas is how he takes something that is true of him personally and just... assumes that it applies to everyone. He regrets changing by taking a physical form, so clearly it's better for these spirits to die here as What They Are rather than live long enough to change (or rather risk changing), yes? He doesn't need to ask them when he regrets changing so much. This is better! He knows! Why would he need their input on whether they should get to live or not! I don't know if he'd rather be dead personally—if he got a second chance he'd definitely refuse Mythal when she demanded he take a physical form, but that's not necessarily the same thing—but whether he would or not the way he sees things that echo his own experiences and immediately goes "well I experienced something similar so I'm gonna do this my way" is such an interesting part of his character. See also the bit where when he's in Mythal's shoes, watching a follower who's never flinched in his loyalty to him tell him "No, you're wrong and I won't be part of this, do this and I will fight you" his response is to... kill said loyal follower immediately so he can't do what Solas himself did instead of thinking to himself "hey, when I was in Felassan's place I was right and if Mythal had listened to me we might have been able to avoid the whole mess of the rebellion and her murder and the Veil, maybe I should hear him out". (Also I'm fascinated by the question of how much he's aware he's changed; obviously he knows he's got a physical form now and regrets that a lot, but given he's clearly convinced he's the smartest guy in the room and always in the right even when he really really isn't right up to the end of DAV I suspect he doesn't consciously realize that he's not Wisdom anymore!)

Solas: Let that be a comfort, that this war did not corrupt them into something different from what they were supposed to be.

Okay, this one's just chilling. Solas willingly sends a bunch of spirits to their deaths (because his patented Solas Plan demanded their deaths, which I'm sure was because there was no alternative and not because Solas didn't bother to consider additional options, not like that's a running theme with all his plans, do you sense my Subtle Sarcasm), and then when called on it... this is his response. He thinks it should be taken as a silver lining to him deliberately leading these people to their deaths because well, if he hadn't they might have become something different than what they were "supposed to be"! And that adds quite a dark overtone to his response to Cole's quest; Varric might be more up-front about him not thinking Cole is really a person if he doesn't pick Varric's desired path, but Solas would rather spirits be dead than changed.

[confusedsiewmai]

Sometimes, I don't like looking at Frieren fandom things is because it feels so alienating as an aroace person sometimes.

I relate to Frieren in a lot of ways. The way she goes through life at her own speed, the way she has a certain way of doing things that is hard to change, the way she struggles to fully understand others but is still compassionate and tries, and last but not least, the way she doesn't feel romantic or sexual attraction the way most people do.

So when a fan posts something about how elves like Frieren don't really feel romantic or sexual attraction and it's wonderful that Himmel's unrequited love with her is still portrayed as something beautiful, healthy and valued, but the comments section is just filled with people being like: No!!!! That's not true!!! Frieren loves Himmel even though she doesn't realise it!!!!

Or even the more "generous" ones are like: No!!! She is just falling in love with him years later!!! The whole story is about how she regrets not pursuing it until it was too late!!!!

And like, every person has their own interpretation and ships. But it really is a bit saddening as an aroace person that sees Frieren also as an aroace who probably would never feel as much romantic love for Himmel EVER. People have almost this... need to correct people that Frieren loves Himmel romantically.