#IN THE MIDDLE OF WRITING SOMETHING AND I'M ABOUT TO FUCKING BAWL DUDE

[mymarifae]

don't listen to leo/need's cover of ikanaide at 4 am you will hurt yourself

[mlmxreader]

Die Maus und Der Bär | König x gn!reader

anonymous asked: hallo!!! i am back once again!!

first of all, i just wanna say, the könig x reader you did for me (the one where they knew each other before) was fucking awesome dude, top notch shit right there. 10/10 amazing. thank you <3

second of all, i was hoping to request a part 2 for it! maybe one where reader decides to actually join KorTac so they don’t have to leave him again. the prompt that sparked this idea was "I don't wanna miss you again" and i just think it would be very nice very cute

as always, keep up the good work! you’re amazing!!! (ALSO HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!) -🏹

summary: a single chance encounter with somebody that you used to cherish just about changes everything.

tws: swearing, brief mentions of violence

part one: Maus

"Nein," he shook his head. "I'm going to take you home. You can't stay... I never stopped loving you, (y/n)."

"Fuck you."

"I will write," he promised. "I don't want to lose you again."

König was risking everything just to take you home; his job, his livelihood, his friends, even his life, just to make sure that you got back. He found your address through various, somewhat illegal, manners but didn't really care; his top priority was to make sure that you got home in a single piece.

The flight was dull, you kept spitting venomous words in his face and hissing curses against him, and although he had no idea why you suddenly hated him, König didn't say anything about it.

The car ride back to your home was worse, but it was slightly better when you, very reluctantly invited him inside; it was a nice house, König could never refuse sleeping in a proper bed, although he did go a little bit shy as he admitted that he didn't actually bring anything with him - expecting to leave you at the door and return when he was back from deployment.

KorTac would kick his ass if they found out he had escorted you right to your front door, let alone that he had accepted staying the night.

If there was anything that König didn't want, anything that made his stomach churn and bile rise up to his throat, it was the thought of losing you; the thought of ever being apart from you, separated, made him feel sick to his stomach and made his hands shake. He didn't want to be without you, not again. He would do anything to be there at your side, he would do anything if he could just remain with you.

Deep, deep down, he knew that you felt the same, but he also knew that, right now, you were in pain; you were lashing out, and he knew why. He was to blame, he was an idiot and a fool and had been for years, he was the one who had left.

But he wasn't stupid, he knew that something was going on when you came up to him in the middle of the night, weeping and sniffling before you got into the bed beside him; he went stiff when you held onto him tightly, and pressed your face against him.

Something was going on. König knew it, and you did, too.

He didn't wear his mask. He didn't need to when he was around you. He very rarely wore shirts, and tried not to notice the way that you looked at the scars that littered his body with little more than guilt; as if each knock and scrape, every gunshot wound and stab wound, that he had sustained since he enlisted was somehow your fault.

Like you failed to protect him. Like you might as well have done it all yourself; of course, König tried to reassure you how he could, but every time he tried to speak to you as a friend, you would push him away.

"Fuck you! Don't fucking act like nothing's changed, you fucking bastard cunt!"

König never flinched. You could be shouting and bawling the house down, but he never so much as twitched; to him, it was a normal Tuesday. He could remember when the subject of your anger was bullies on the school grounds; whenever they so much as mildly taunted him, you were there, running to his defence every single time.

He had no reason to think of your little outbursts as anything other than you needing to express yourself, and he could live with that. If you wanted to shout, he could listen to you shout for hours. He just wished that you would stop pushing him away.

But it wasn't that simple, those things never were, as although you would have given anything and everything to have him back in your life, although you would have begged and pleaded and even tried bribery and blackmail in order to get into KorTac's ranks to be at his side again, you were still hurt; you had let him down, you had been his enemy, he had reminded you of times that you no longer thought of.

Secondary school, the realisation that you had loved him. When he sang 'The Last Stand' by Sabaton the first time he kissed you and told you that he loved you romantically.

You knew that he would never be permanently back in your life, you needed to push him away before you could even think of hurting him the way that he had hurt you when he first left; you didn't want him to feel that ache, to feel the bile rise in his throat whenever your name came to mind, you didn't want him to miss you if you were gone.

You wanted to save him, save him the pain and the agony and the grief and everything else; you didn't want him to get hurt because of you, you didn't think you could live with yourself if he did. It was best to push him away. Things would be better off if you pushed him away, you knew that, and you had a sneaking suspicion that he did, too.

Except, you couldn't deny that you did like having him around; when one night suddenly became one week, and one week suddenly became one month... you couldn't deny that you liked having him around. König reminded you of a time long gone, a time when you could get away with pinning cunts to the ground and breaking their jaws without worrying about getting court martialled; a simpler time, a better time... and maybe... maybe you did still love him.

Maybe you did still love him romantically, and maybe you didn't want to push him away so much anymore, even though you knew it was for the best and you kept telling yourself that you didn't want him to get inside your head and that you weren't thinking straight, you weren't being logical or rational; you were being a fool for wanting something, someone, you could never have again. You missed your chance years ago, why get another one?

"Mein Bärchen," König cleared his throat as he ducked enough to get through the doorframe, a yawn coming from the back of his throat as he pinned you to the side with his tired gaze. "You should be asleep."

You shook your head, puffing on your cigarette as you grumbled softly and bit back the yawn he had infected you with. "There's just a lot in my head right now, Maus."

"Wie was?"

You didn't want to say it, but the way that he was looking at you and your own exhaustion was chipping you away and breaking you down, so you sighed, putting your cigarette in the ashtray as you dared to shrug, taking a deep breath. "What if I transferred to KorTac?"

König fell silent for a moment as he thought about it, but then he smiled, raising his brows as he looked so fucking hopeful, so fucking joyful at the mere suggestion of such a thing. "Really?"

You nodded slowly. "Yeah... at least then, we'd still be together, right? And maybe... maybe we could start off where we left off?"

He grinned, swallowing thickly as he tried to hide his excitement. "You'd do that?"

"Yeah," your voice got a little quieter. "Yeah, I... fuck, König, I don't wanna miss you again... I don't wanna hurt you by making you miss me, either."

"Du bist mein Lieblingsbär," he chuckled softly. "Ich... nein. (y/n), if you joined KorTac... we would never be apart."

"That's the point," you told him. "Ich lie- meine Maus, I'll give my guys my two weeks notice tomorrow, and put in a request for a transfer to KorTac... ja? Klang gut?"

"Ja," he beamed. "Aber... come back to bed, bitte? Come back to me?"

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM.

[touchmycoat]

BOOK RECS BOOK RECS

I've read 3 (and a half) books by this author (Bai Lu Cheng Shuang) now and I'm in LOVE. They seem to be consistently concerned with the question of how love can exist between men and women when society loads them with such systemic power imbalances. The female leads are all charming as hell and super distinctive, and BLCS has this way of concretizing exactly what love is. You get tons of hijinks and shenanigans and sarcastic mental monologues, but in the middle of all that, you also get relationships broken down in realistic, down-to-earth terms. Showing your shitty husband loyalty and apparent love? It's how you keep your ass out of the line of fire, whether or not he actually likes you, duh. Not getting jealous when he shows affection to other women? Why get jealous of insubstantial promises when you can get that dough, or food and shelter. Find out what he needs done and do it for him—make yourself useful and you get leverage. The author sees the problems of patriarchy and finesses the fuck out of them—plays men at their own game until the women walk out with both the monetizable goods and the emotional goods lmfao.

Can't stop won't stop recommending this. Modern woman transmigrates into a novel's minor villainness and sets out to make the main male lead fall in love with her so she can go home and get her end-of-year bonus already. Ji Man makes me heart-horny, I've already raved about it. I'm honestly about to reread it literally in this moment. BLCS is all about practical love—yeah, you can get doki doki about some person, but that's going to go. After it fades, have you learned how to manage that relationship? Do you understand that staying in love is work? Ji Man is so damn SMART, and i love scorpios ;;

I...would actually love to translate this novel because talk about my cup of tea! Widely-hated princess is executed for her sins by the Prime Minister, only she transmigrates into another young lady's body and sets out to clean out all the corrupt politicians and get revenge on the people who got her killed—who of course is the male lead. MC serves mushy nonsense and sex jokes like nobody's business, but it's all an act to keep her by the ML's side. The ML's ADORABLE jesus christ, very Lan Wangji-energy. I lovelovelove Ning Yuxuan from Spring Boudoir, but Jiang Xuanjin pushes all my OTHER buttons. Li Huaiyu is sexy and cute and has a following of men for good reasons. I cried for her when shit started going down, and this novel has one of my favorite slow burn > whump > misunderstandings > ignition progressions in the world.

the book i literally just finished today and spent oh, two hours dripping tears and snot for? Tentative title translation: The World for a Peach Blossom. A Zhao Country princess is to be married to the Southern King (an honorary title for a son of the Emperor) of Wei Country, but on the way, she stumbles into the Wei Prime Minister's plot to kill her for political power. The author writes something like "Shen Zaiye has a hundred ways to get Jiang Taohua killed and Jiang Taohua has a hundred and one ways to convince him not to." Bastard meets bastard, and the political shenanigans are FIERCE. BLCS writes such intricate plot lines that exemplify "the personal is political" fnjdjfndjnf harem women and their relationships and infighting can both dictate and be dictated by the greater "men's world" of politics. The title really says it all—the MC's name is literally peach blossom, and the tug-of-war at the heart of this novel is, when two bastards fighting for the good of their countries meet and fall in love, which will they sacrifice, their love or their countries?

(okay this one was not an easy read though, i'll be real the ML rapes the MC in the very first chapter and while she takes it pretty calmly, it's...a hell of a way to start a relationship. the ending had me fucking bawling for chapters and chapters though, in a good way.)

I'm putting this last 'cause i'll be real i didn't finish it. I picked it up because of the premise: modern woman transmigrates into the Prime Minister of an ancient kingdom who is a major pain in the Emperor's butt. She thinks the PM is a guy, but turns out he's a woman in disguise. Both the Emperor and the Emperor's bff go gay for her, except the Emperor figures out she's a woman first and they fuck about it. It's interesting and funny, and the MC has the charm of Shang Qinghua from Scum Villain—clever enough and good with words, but very much a coward at heart. Emperor's gruff and tough dude who does NOT know he comes off so grumpy. Reasons I put it down...neither the MC nor ML are as clever as the leads in the other novels. The plot lines and pacing also felt kind of sophomoric compared to her other works—the emotional payoffs really weren't all that there for me.

[killemwithkawaii]

Do L.S.S. must know Mitchie from somewhere, but where? Is this a weird universe thing?

(Also, I’m asking a lot again hnnn forgive me)

Of course Mitchie and I have met before. You think I'd go through all this effort for a stranger?

This is the sixth time it's happened, actually. [Er, well, I guess it's more like this is the sixth time I've found them, but we've technically 'met' five times...] I've never brought it up to them before because it didn't seem like they had any real memories of our previous relationships. They would occasionally mention deja vu, or ask if we've met somewhere before, but this time is... different. It's weird that they knew who I was at all, but finding out that they were already in love with me [or at least a version of me] and had been drawing me and writing about me for months? I've seen some shit, but that's fucking nuts, dude.

I know that they think that they're just making up stories, but so much of what they've written about has actually happened. Not everything, obviously [haven't been a demon yet. Seems kinda cool], but enough that I started bawling in the middle of a library when I first found and scrolled through their blog [‘holy shit, they remember that!!!’.] They say things about me that they've said before. They've given me nicknames that they've given me before. They want to do things with me that we've done before...

Quite frankly, I feel like I'm taking care of a dementia patient right now. It's aaalll in there. They're there. 'That's my Mitchie!' Ya'know? I know that they remember somehow....They're just confused, that’s all. I've been trying to jog their memory with familiar things and stories, but so far they think I 'yan'd' them to find out all their favorite stuff and are pitching them some 'fic' plots. I'm hoping that something clicks soon so they'll recognize me... It probably doesn't help that my memory is spotty now, too. So far I’ve just been telling them things as I’m reminded of them, which may have made things worse... I've been trying to put together some visuals and organize my thoughts so that I can explain things more clearly. 

Since yesterday went so well, I'm going to start telling them the whole story from the beginning, right after we binge some cartoons and decide what's for lunch. [It's SO GREAT being able to have them in the living room with me! They've calmed down so much, they’re even letting me touch their shoulders, hands and hair now sometimes. I’m so proud of them. I'm really feeling good about this 💙]

[kennothythebard]

"Hey, hey, calm down, they can't hurt you anymore." With treebros and/or kliensen because I'm in an angsty dear Evan Hansen mood

As much as I love setting things in the AWE universe, I decided to go for a slightly happier Connor Lives au for a change (with an extra side of “they all became friends”). Slight Sincerely three. (TW for homophobic slurs)

Send me characters or ships from musicals with a prompt from here.

Jared stared at his locker, a stony expression on his face. The thick, black strokes stood out against the dull blue he was so familiar with that seeing that precise shade anywhere else made him sick. Three characters. Three simple characters had ruined his whole day. Two of the characters were created with three sharp strokes, while the last was created as a continuous curve. 

   F  A G

There was a small, phallic doodle underneath the word. It wasn’t clever. It wasn’t good. Hell, even the spacing was off. But it made his blood boil all the same.

He wished he could laugh it off. Find some cleaner that could get rid of sharpie, wipe it off, pretend it never happened. That’s what he should do. But something in his brain wouldn’t let it go. It took every ounce of control he had to not break down right there, in the middle of the hallway like a freak. He clenched his fists so hard he could almost feel his fingernails break his skin.

“So Evan asked for my help with his math homework,” Jared had noted long ago that Connor was never one for proper greetings, often startling others by initiating conversations when he hadn’t even announced his presence, just like now, “except I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing in that class so I figured the three of us could-- Hey, are you ok dude?”

Jared didn’t turn to look at him. “Peachy.”

“What’s the--” Connor followed Jared’s gaze, eyes landing on the crude graffiti. “Oh no.”

“Fuckin’ stupid. It’s just some idiot with a sharpie who has nothing better to do with his life than harass some kid no one even talks to.”

“That doesn’t make it better. That doesn’t make it ok. That doesn’t make it right.” Connor sighed. “It still fills you with rage. And you still have every right to feel that way. I’ve been dealing with this bullshit since seventh grade.”

“Is that so?” Connor nodded in his periphery. “So how exactly do you ‘deal’ with it?”

“Punch the kid that did it in the face. They usually think twice before doing it again.”

“Sounds great. Recognize the writing? I would love to punch something right now.”

Connor examined the thick strokes. “Can’t say that I do.” He pulled out his phone and began taking pictures.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Gathering evidence. Knowing our school system, they’ll have the janitors clean it up this evening and pretend it never happened. We can show it to the administrators and get the vandal’s ass expelled.”

“But we don’t know who it is. And the administrators aren’t going to take it seriously unless we have concrete proof.”

“Yeah, but we got a killswitch named Alana Beck who probably knows everyone’s handwriting and won’t stop badgering them until they find and punish the one’s responsible.”

“For the love of god do not send that to Alana.”

“I won’t. So long as the administrators take this matter seriously.”

“I’m not going to take it to them.”

“I know. That’s why I’m going to.” Jared tried to protest, but at that moment the bell rang. “I should get to class. See you at Evan’s.” And with that Connor walked off. Jared took one last glare at the locker before dragging himself to his next class.

Jared rang the doorbell until Evan answered. Evan seemed surprised to see him.

“Where’s Connor?”

Jared shrugged. “He just said we should meet here after school. So here I am.” He looked at Evan. “Wait, Connor really isn’t here yet?” Evan shook his head. He moved aside and invited Jared in. Jared followed Evan to the living room and sat down on the couch.

“So, um, how was your day?”

Jared shrugged. “Uneventful.” He discreetly clenched a fist.

“Oh.” The two sat in silence for a few moments before Evan spoke up again. “So, um, like, don’t get mad but um, Connor-- Connor told me about the locker.”

Jared shook his head. “Of fucking course he did.”

Evan frowned. “He just, um, he said he thought he knew who did it but he wanted me to confirm before saying anything, and, um, he was right.”

Jared suddenly felt the bottled up rage become active once more. “That fucking liar, he said he didn’t know--”

“Well, that’s why he talked with me. Because, um, he thought I could recognize the writing. And I did.”

Jared stood up. “Who the fuck did this? I need to teach them a lesson.” Moving as fast as he could, Evan jumped out of his seat and blocked Jared’s path.

“We-we-we already told-- We already told the administrators and, um, they’ve talked with the person, and they’re considering the appropriate punishment.”

“I think I’ve got an idea for an appropriate punishment.” He tried to get past Evan, but the boy blocked his path again.

“Jared, it’s-it’s fine, it’s being taken care of, and you don’t even know--”

“Get out of my way Evan!”

"Hey, hey, calm down, they can't hurt you anymore." Blinded by anger, Jared pushed Evan aside. And suddenly all the anger he felt was replaced by regret, and sadness. Evan stared at him, concerned and almost fearful. Jared stepped back as his eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m fucking-- I didn’t mean-- I’m an asshole-- I--” Jared sank to his knees as the tears fell. He was so angry he had shoved Evan Hansen, the boy he’d cared about so much that Jared had literally worried himself sick over his wellbeing.

“I know, you were-- you were just angry...” Evan rushed to Jared’s side, kneeling right next to him and putting his arm around Jared. “Look, I’m ok. I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me. I’m fine.”

Jared gasped for air between sobs. “I don’t... I shouldn’t care this much... I don’t... I don’t know why I’m so angry...”

“Jared, you should feel angry. What they did was-- what they did was fucked up, it probably messed with your sense of security, and you shouldn’t have to make excuses for how you feel.” Evan moved so he was kneeling directly in front of Jared. “But you’re safe here. You have me. And we will make sure the bastard that did this gets what they deserved. Nobody should make you ashamed of who you are.” Jared looked into Evan’s kind eyes, so full of love and understanding, and began bawling again. Evan wrapped his arms around Jared in a hug, and Jared just held on as if for dear life. The vandal had made him feel ashamed of who he was, but somehow Evan made him feel proud of it, like he was special because of who he was. 

It took a few minutes for things to calm down, but Jared stayed clinging to Evan for as long as he could justify. They finally broke away, Jared wiping away tears and chuckling a bit. “So, when does Murphy get here? He said you had some math homework you both needed help with?”

Evan’s phone went off. He pulled it out. “Speak of the devil,” he muttered. He saw Evan’s face contort into a horrified, then frustrated expression as he read the text. Evan rolled his eyes, shook his head and turned back to Jared. “We have to go help Connor.”

“What? Why? What happened?”

“He injured his hand, it’s all bloody.”

“What did he do?”

“Punched some kid’s teeth in.” Every bit of self control Jared had was focused on keeping his facial muscles in check, but he still couldn’t help the small smirk that slid across his face.