#also i wrote this on mobile so if there are mistakes sorry

[solomons-poison]

Overworked

Lucifer x reader

: ̗̀➛ A/N: Uhhhh inspired by some history of burn out at work... >>; and just general issues with perfectionist ideas. Honestly, this has been in my drafts for nearly two years now. I was unhappy with how it sounded, but much like the message in this piece, I realized I need to be okay with less-than-perfect things. So cleaned it up a little bit and here you go. Written and edited on mobile so please excuse any formatting issues

: ̗̀➛ Warnings: GN reader, angst to fluff, general insecurities, crying, reader ignoring signs of sickness; Lucifer fluff, no established relationship but Lucifer is very soft on reader~

: ̗̀➛ Word Count: 4652

You should have known something was coming on before it got this bad, but unfortunately, you had a bad habit of ignoring body signals, which was ultimately your downfall.

You'd been feeling... off, for the past couple of days. More exhausted than usual, decreased appetite, just generally run down. You often found yourself in a daze, losing concentration on anything that wasn't your work assignments. It didn't help that the coursework at R.A.D. was naturally more difficult for you as a human, dealing with school subjects you never dreamed of or would ever encounter in the human realm. It was also a busy time in the school year, with big exams coming up and the workload increasing in difficulty by the day, so you attributed your exhaustion to this and wrote it off. Of course, by the time you realized what was going on, it was too late. This was mistake #1.

You woke up in the morning to your blaring alarm, feeling tired and sluggish again, and noticed the missed alarms on your phone. Although you occasionally slept through one or two alarms, you almost never slept this late unless you wanted to. But you didn't have time to think about the reasons and rationale on why your body sought so much extra rest. Instead, you pushed yourself through your confusion and sleepiness to get dressed and head down for breakfast as quickly as possible, hoping Lucifer wouldn't punish you too harshly. Mistake #2.

As you started to leave your room, you couldn't help but shiver a little and quickly grabbed a cardigan to wear over your uniform. It wasn't unusual for the air to feel chilly in the Devildom, thanks to the lack of sunlight. However, the chill seemed to be bone-deep this morning, and something in you felt the cardigan was going to be no help. In general, everything in you was screaming to take a day off and rest, but one of your classes had a quiz later that day that you knew you couldn't miss. Once again, you found yourself pushing forward regardless of the glaring warning signs in your peripheral vision.

Mistake #3.

By the time you made it to the dining room, everyone was already seated, including Belphie, a true testament to just how much you overslept. Everyone turned to glance at you except Beel, who was more focused on his food as per usual. Part of your brain noticed Lucifer looking at you a moment longer than the others, but it was forgotten as the second born pointed his fork at you accusingly.

"Finally, human! I thought ya were gonna sleep all day, with your alarm goin' off like that," he said.

"Sorry, Mammon. I guess I must have been sleeping pretty deeply," you replied, smiling sheepishly. You knew he was mostly pulling your leg, but your phone alarms had a tendency to be on the loud side and felt guilty for disturbing any of the brothers with the noise. "I don't even remember going to bed either."

"I don't think that's unusual, I do that all the time," Belphie piped up from down the table, earning pointed looks from the others.

You didn't miss the way the eldest brother's eyes sneaked up to look at you upon hearing your statement, though, clearly studying your face.

"Are you feeling alright, MC? You do seem to look rather tired this morning," Lucifer commented, eyebrows drawn together in concern.

You knew the second you made eye contact you'd be doomed to an interrogation, so you barely spared a glance before training your gaze on your breakfast as you responded. "Yeah, I'm fine, I'm sure I just stayed up too long studying for this quiz I've got today." But even as you said the words, you knew something wasn't right, and it only seemed to be getting worse the longer you sat there.

You could feel it in the air that Lucifer was unsatisfied with that answer, but he remained silent and you continued on with your food.

By the time you'd finished your breakfast, only a few brothers remained in the dining room after your late arrival. Beel and Belphie were both there. But strangely enough, it was Lucifer still being there that really confused you, given his penchant for being early to everything. Unfortunately, your fatigue-addled brain simply couldn't put forth the effort to think hard about the reason. The chill from earlier had now settled deep in your bones, and everything about the situation was screaming "wrong!!".

Once again ignoring the strange phenomena, you stood to bring your dishes back to the kitchen, but you were hit almost instantly by a wave of dizziness and shivering, knees buckling and your vision turning dark as you stumbled forward. You managed to catch yourself on a chair and stayed upright, but all three brothers were instantly on their feet. Lucifer got to you first, his gloved hand gripping your upper arm to steady you further.

"MC! Are you all right? What's wrong?" he questioned, voice rich with concern and a deep frown on his face. Beel and Belphie crowded around, watching you for any risk of falling.

You took a moment to breathe, cold sweat running down your back, fighting hard against the sensations running through your body, and worked up the strength to look up at the first born. "I'm OK. Sorry," you said, smiling shakily, but Lucifer's frown only deepened at your response. "I guess I was more tired than I thought."

"This is more than fatigue, MC. Are you certain you're not sick?"

You gathered the strength to stand a little taller. As you did, something in the back of your brain was yelling at you again that this was a mistake, to sit back down, to call out sick, rest, anything but go to class. But your stubbornness and anxiety won out, knowing that missing just the one class would really put you behind your studies, and you prided yourself on your ability to work hard on your own. You hadn't spent months of pushing yourself, working overtime and scouring textbook after textbook, to quit now from some measly sickness. Your brain just couldn't rationalize any other way around it.

"Really, Lucifer, I'm OK. You don't need to worry so much—" you managed to say, but as the last words left your mouth, your last bit of strength finally ran out, and a blanket of darkness came down on your vision as you lost consciousness.

“MC–!” “Hey!” Multiple voices called out as you passed out in front of them.

Beel caught your body as you fell back out of Lucifer's hold, and he quickly picked up your legs to hold onto your unconscious body. He could feel the heat radiating off your skin and a sad frown twisted his features.

"I think they have a fever," he said, holding you close to himself, and Belphie leaned in to take a closer look at your face.

Lucifer could feel his face fall at Beel's statement, but steeled himself quickly before either of his brothers could notice. However, all it would take is a closer look to see the worry evident in his dark ruby eyes. He sighed quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on as he quickly made up a plan to deal with this new development.

"Beel, could you bring MC up to their room?" Lucifer asked. "I'm going to contact Solomon for some medicine to help with their illness." Beel nodded and started to leave the dining room with you cradled in his arms, Belphie following close behind. However, just before they stepped through the doorway, Lucifer stopped them briefly. "And do not bring this up with the others. If anyone else hears MC is sick, they're all going to leave class to come here and MC needs to rest. I will tell them when it’s appropriate."

He could tell both younger brothers wanted to say something about that, but luckily, they simply nodded and continued on their way. Once he was alone, Lucifer took a moment to himself to stop and breathe, anxiety coursing through his veins at the situation. But he shook it off as best he could before sending a notice out to Solomon, and another notice to Lord Diavolo and Barbatos to alert about your absence. He would have time to fret later, but for now, he needed to focus on you and making sure that you were taken care of. The last thing he needed was to let something terrible happen to one of the human exchange students and possibly disappoint Lord Diavolo… at least, that's what he told himself. But really, he knew it was more than that. Pushing those thoughts away, he shook his head and moved onwards, focusing on the task at hand.

After sending his messages, he quickly gathered some basic supplies, washcloths and a bowl for water to make a cold compress, as well as an extra blanket, and brought them up to your room where Belphie and Beel were waiting. You'd been laid out on your bed covered by a light blanket, your face contorted in discomfort. Lucifer could feel his heart twist in his chest at your visible pain.

"I will take over from here, you can go now," he said, setting down his supplies and removing his cloak.

Belphie frowned, crossing his arms in frustration. "MC is sick, we're not going anywhere. Class can wait–" he started, but Lucifer cut him off with a glare.

"No, you are not staying here," Lucifer said definitively. "MC needs to rest, and they cannot do that with a crowd in the room. Solomon is on his way here with medicine and I will be taking care of them in the meantime."

Belphie practically bristled, the tension in the room almost palpable between the eldest and youngest brothers, but Beel placed a hand on Belphie's shoulder, attempting to calm him down.

"Look, I don't care if you don't attend class today," Lucifer continued, his stress levels exhausting him of energy to fight. "But I want MC to get the rest they need. Until Solomon arrives and we can contact a more knowledgeable physician on human illnesses, we don't know how sick they are. I will keep you updated if anything changes, but for now, you must leave."

Beel and Belphie were silent for a long minute, not breaking eye contact with Lucifer. Eventually, they relented, however, and Belphie sighed, turning away towards the door.

"Fine, we'll go. Come on, Beel," Belphie muttered, going out the door with one last glance to your sleeping form.

Beel started to follow, but turned to Lucifer at the last moment. “We can pick up some food for MC to help them feel better. Would that be okay?”

Lucifer’s eyes widened at the request before softening, knowing his brothers were simply worried about their precious human. He nodded, and Beel smiled happily. “Yes, that will be fine. I believe easy to eat foods will be best, something to make into a soup or broth. I’ll also ask Solomon for recommendations on human world foods.”

“Awesome, I’ll tell Belphie,” Beel replied, smiling back, and headed out the door.

Now that Lucifer was finally alone with you, he heaved a great sigh that was almost too loud for the sudden silence. He shed his coat, placing it over the chair at your desk, before rolling up his sleeves and removing his gloves. He retrieved some cool water from your bathroom and dipped the washcloth in, then took a seat beside your bed, wringing the washcloth before pressing it to your forehead.

The fever had caused a sweat to break out, and your face was twisted in pain even in your sleep. The sound of your labored breathing weighed heavily on Lucifer's mind. But the cooling effects of the washcloth seemed to alleviate your discomfort a little as your face relaxed, and seeing you a little more comfortable eased the ache in his heart. The weight that had been sitting on his shoulders ever since you fainted lifted a little, giving him the slightest bit of relief, and he turned around to refresh your washcloth.

“Mmm.. Lu..cifer…”

Lucifer’s ears perked up almost embarrassingly fast upon hearing you say his name, and his head whipped around to look at you. However, it was evidently just talking in your sleep as your eyes remained closed and your breathing was even. He reached over to pull the blanket up, tucking you in, and did his best to ignore the pounding of his heart.

Although you two weren't a couple, you still seemed to hold a special place in his heart alongside his brothers. You were family now, but even that word didn't seem sufficient for the way he felt. And seeing you so sick all of a sudden gave him a greater shock than he was prepared for. It was moments like this that he realized how truly mortal you were, that you didn’t recover from sickness the same way Lucifer and his brothers could.

He couldn’t even be sure of what you were sick with. For all he knew, he was overreacting and you were likely fine. But still, the fear of the unknown settled deep in his heart, unable to rest until he could get an answer. For now, all he could do was swallow down his worries and continue on with what he was doing, trying to ignore the desperate aching in his chest.

Half an hour passed before a knock resounded at your bedroom door, and Lucifer okayed entry without taking his eyes off of you. He was settled back in your chair, sleeves still rolled up in an unusual display of casualness, although his crossed arms betrayed his true feelings. Solomon quietly opened the door, peeking his head in before entering, a small satchel in his arms that clinked softly as he moved it. Barbatos had come with him and trailed through silently, letting Solomon take the lead.

“Wow, MC really is sick,” Solomon commented, seeing your quiet form tucked in on the bed. However, he wasn’t sure which to be more surprised by, the fact you had fallen ill like this or the sight of Lucifer dressed down, sitting at your bedside.

Lucifer sighed, moving his stiff form now to turn and look at your guests. “Yes, they were looking awful all during breakfast, and after getting up from their chair, they just fainted. I’m not sure what it is, but they have some kind of fever. I’ve been applying this compress but of course we don’t have any human world medicine here.”

Solomon nodded, setting down his satchel on the top of your desk. “I’ve brought a potion that will help bring down their fever for now,” he said, removing a carefully packaged vial filled with a fascinating colored liquid. “Unfortunately, I’m not a doctor so I can’t treat the root cause, but I’ll do my best until a physician can get here.”

“That’s fine, thank you,” Lucifer said, nodding. He glanced at Barbatos, who was standing silently at the foot of your bed. “I didn’t expect you to come here, Barbatos. Did you need something?”

Barbatos only shook his head.

“No, when I received your message that MC was sick, I thought it best to bring some tea for them to drink," he replied, bringing forward a small tin. "Peppermint tea is supposed to provide some medicinal properties, such as relieving fever and nausea. Once MC is awake, perhaps they can drink it to help their symptoms. I've also called on the services of a doctor who is familiar with human health and illnesses, they should be arriving soon."

Lucifer accepted it, taking the tin and placing it on your bedside table. "Yes, that will be good, thank you," he said, prompting a small smile from the butler.

Lucifer reached over and gently shook your shoulders, feeling terrible for waking you but wanting to get the potion in your body already. “MC, can you hear me?” he said softly, and your face scrunched a little in response. “Solomon has brought some medicine to help your fever, you should try to take some.”

Solomon and Barbatos couldn't help glancing at each other at the demon's gentle tone.

"Lucifer..?" You mumbled, bleary eyes blinking several times as you struggled to wake up.

"Yes, it's me," he responded, heart fluttering again at the sound of your voice. "Do you remember what happened? You had passed out after breakfast."

"Oh. That's wild."

Lucifer couldn't help himself as his eyebrows shot up at your response, which was obviously the product of still being half-asleep. But it was a very you response, and he refrained from laughing. He opened his mouth to continue, but was cutoff as you suddenly gasped, shooting up from the bed.

"My quiz! What happened to my quiz?" you shouted, but the outburst was short-lived as the sudden change in elevation made you waver, your fatigued body not strong enough to handle this.

Lucifer caught your body as you started to fall backwards, and he gently eased you back onto your pillow. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Of all the things to think about now, a quiz was on your mind?

"You passed out in front of me and you're worried about a quiz?" he couldn't help but question. "Diavolo was made aware of what happened, you don't have to worry about your class. We're more concerned with your fever, we think you may be sick."

Solomon took the chance to step forward, grabbing the colorful vial he'd brought earlier.

"Here, MC, this potion should help you feel better for now. But we're trying to find you a doctor just to make sure everything is okay," he said, uncorking the vial. Despite your dubious look, you accepted and drank it down with his help before settling back down on the pillow. You could immediately feel the effects of the potion, already getting some relief from the fatigue in your body and the cold sweats plaguing you.

Barbatos also took the opportunity to speak up, stepping up to the end of your bed. “I’ve also brought you some peppermint tea leaves. Please let me know if you’d like me to brew some tea for you. The Young Lord is wishing for your speedy recovery.”

“Thanks, Solomon, that does make me feel a little better. And not right now, Barbatos, but that does sound really good, I appreciate it. Please tell Diavolo thank you for me, as well.” You closed your eyes for a moment, relaxing against your pillow, before opening them again and looking at the three people in your room. “I’m sorry for worrying everyone, I promise I’ll get better soon.”

Lucifer only shook his head at you, pulling up your blanket around your body and tucking you in.

“You can hardly blame us for worrying about you, you have left a strong impression on all of us. Just focus on resting for now, a physician should be coming by soon,” he said, a slight smile on his lips. The other two smiled back at you, as well, before Solomon said his goodbyes and left.

Barbatos stayed behind to wait, eventually making you the tea in the meantime and just involving you in some small talk to comfort you. Once the physician arrived, Barbatos and Lucifer both left to give you some privacy, nervously waiting outside your door for the results. Lucifer even settled on the ground against the wall, sleeves still rolled up and hair a mess, uncharacteristically ruffled.

Although you had seemed in better spirits after taking Solomon’s potion and resting, Lucifer still felt restless, waiting for your assessment to be finished. When he heard your door click open, it was almost embarrassing how quickly he shot to his feet, afraid for the worst. But the physician quickly assuaged his fears.

Despite the fever and the passing out, everything pointed to simple burnout, caused by you overworking yourself in an attempt to get ahead. You would need to wait out the remainder of the fever, taking medicine as needed to help it along. But overall, the most important thing you needed now was rest, and plenty of it. Thankfully, that would be easy enough to arrange.

Unfortunately, the answer was not a surprising one. Lucifer knew that, despite the offers from him and the other RAD council members, you often declined on any kind of assistance or tutoring with your work. His own sin prompted him to say it was pride that prevented you from accepting outside help. But he knew that in general, you felt it could be a weakness, especially being in an environment with those that still looked down on humans and were uncertain of your place in their society. Deeper than that, he also knew you considered yourself a burden, trying to reduce your presence whenever possible, leaving you to work twice as hard to complete the same tasks.

Sometimes he wished that you would rely on him a little more, come to him when you needed help or just a listening ear. But if anyone understood the need to maintain their pride, it was the the Avatar of Pride himself. Lucifer also knew he hadn’t always been the most supportive, memories of your new arrival and the way he treated you burned into his mind like a shameful brand, so he couldn’t blame you for keeping things to yourself. But maybe, after this whole episode was resolved and you were back to full health, things could be different.

He stepped into your room once the physician departed, and you were sitting up in bed, propped up by your pillows. You were already looking much better than earlier, and it eased his heart immensely. Lucifer didn’t even need to say anything, as your sheepish expression said it all, but he still wanted to make sure of something.

“I trust you understand what the doctor has told you about your condition and what to do now,” he said. He couldn’t help gravitating towards you, ending up at the side of your bed once more.

You nodded, squeezing your hands nervously in front of you.

“I know, I understand,” you said, your voice meek and rough from your exhaustion.

Honestly, the whole thing was embarrassing. You were just trying to keep up with your classmates, make sure you weren’t embarrassing the Prince of the Devildom or the Seven Avatars that were hosting you in their home. And for a while, it seemed to be working. Sure you felt a little tired, but at least your grades were exemplary. But of course, it couldn’t be that easy, or stay that easy.

As you recalled what happened up until you passed out, and bits and pieces of Lucifer caring for you afterwards came to mind, you found yourself unable to make eye contact. Your body felt hot again, but it wasn’t the fever this time. Not only did you end up passing out from your efforts, but it was Lucifer that took care of you in the end. It was mortifying, truly. But almost as if sensing your feelings, Lucifer sat at the edge of your bed, his still-uncovered hand moving to cover both of yours.

The touch surprised you, making you look up finally, but his next words were what truly took you off guard.

“I know that you feel you have to work hard to keep up with your studies,” Lucifer said, squeezing your hands gently. “And while we— Diavolo and I— appreciate your efforts, the whole point of you coming to the Devildom was not to get good grades. You are part of the exchange program, but you are also our guest. I know we have not always been as welcome as we should have been, but we hope that you can come to us when you feel that you’re struggling. At least, I hope that you can come to me, if you are struggling.”

You couldn’t help it as your eyes widened. A soft look you’d never noticed before filled Lucifer’s face, a reassuring smile gracing his lips. You’d seen a lot of expressions cross Lucifer’s face, but this was the rarest of all, and one you never expected to be aimed towards you.

This, combined with his words, was all too much for you at once. Suddenly, your vision was swimming and something wet was falling down one of your cheeks, dripping onto your shirt. Almost immediately, Lucifer’s smile dropped in panic, and through your tears, you could just barely make out his mouth opening and closing as he struggled for words.

“Oh—” Damn it. Lucifer wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting when he told you how he felt, but it certainly wasn’t tears. He quickly reached up, brushing away your tears with his fingers, his touch awkward but achingly gentle. Of course, his touch only made you cry harder.

“I– I’m sorry, MC, it wasn’t my intention to make you cry,” he said, finally remembering a handkerchief he keeps in his vest, and patted your cheeks with it, trying desperately to slow your tears.

You struggled to calm yourself down, wanting to reassure the demon of any misunderstanding.

“I-it’s not that,” you said, involuntary gasps breaking up your words. “I just feel so stupid. Like I just keep making the same dumb mistakes over and over again, no matter what. And now here I am, sick in bed and you’re having to take care of me, and you’re being so nice, and I just don’t know what to do.”

“Nice” wasn’t a word often used to describe Lucifer, at least not anymore. And he could guess that it’s not a word you’d used to describe him in the past. It also hurt him to hear how you saw yourself and all your efforts. Although you came across as reckless and a little ridiculous at times, you were also genuine and a hard worker. Lucifer’s pride made it difficult for him to admit many things, but he genuinely came to appreciate the way you treated your studies, unlike some of his brothers. Even if your grades were poor, even if you struggled with the subjects, he simply admired your sincerity in everything you did, and that was enough to make him happy. He just wished that you could feel the same.

“I think you’re being generous by calling me nice. But you don’t need to do anything special, MC,” he said. Finally, your tears were starting to dry a little bit, easing his own aching heart. “We all appreciate your efforts, but we just want you to keep being yourself, more than anything. Keep reminding us that you are human, in the way only you can. Of course, if you can do that without worrying me sick, that would also be appreciated.”

The last part made you laugh, and you couldn’t help but sniffle as the crying finally ended.

“Okay.”

“And if you’re having trouble with a subject, many of us would be happy to help you. Satan does make an excellent tutor, and despite Belphie’s knack for sleeping in class, he often has a good grasp on the subjects as well.” Now that your eyes were dry, Lucifer put the damp handkerchief back in his pocket in order to use a hand to squeeze yours. His other hand brushed over your cheek, rubbing softly, soothingly.

You could only nod, more tears threatening to rip a sob from you if you opened your mouth again. But no more words were needed, getting to relax your impossible standards for once and finally feeling at peace knowing that there were others there to support you, including a certain red-eyed devil at your side.

As always, reblogs and comments are appreciated! 💜 You can also support me by buying a coffee ☕️!

[schumachersricciardo]

Shiver

Chapter Six - You’re All I’ve Ever Known

♡ Mick Schumacher x Reader, Best friend!Danny Ricc x reader

♡ TW: Swearing, inaccurate timeline of F1/F2/F3, badly translated German using Google, blood/injuries (not graphic, but there is are mentions of it!), i forgot how many days elapsed between scenes bc i wrote this in like two days. so ya know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. INACCURATE DESCRIPTIONS OF ENGLAND???? I literally made up street names and i think a school, so don’t come for me. I’m just a girl. plus i’m american so like we already have enough on our plates. Ummm slight kidnapping vibes??? very inaccurate and probably wrong medical talk.

♡ She/Her pronouns are used, nothing descriptive about reader except that her hair is long enough to pull back into a ponytail or braid, no reader insert, timeline skips. ALSO: WARNING!!!! I will barely be mentioning Michael Schumacher. I do not presume to know what he is thinking, or would say in these fictional scenarios. I am trying to be respectful of their privacy and not make any assumptions!!!!!! He will be mentioned here and there, but I do not believe any dialogue will be associated with him. If you do not like that, then do not read it. :)

♡ 6.3k words

♡A/N: Again, posting this on mobile and will format it when i get back from work! sorry it’s a day late. yesterday was very bad lol ok love u bye

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It seemed like there was never going to be an end to the poking, the prodding, and testing on your body. Everyday, there was to be a new test or a repeat of an old one to be done. On top of already having been in the hospital for more than two weeks now, your memory was still not coming back to you. Sometimes someone would say something and if it as if your brain knew the memory tied to it, but it couldn’t relay it to your voice fast enough to recollect it. You didn’t know what was worse at this point:

“No, no threes. Go fish.” Your Uncle Sebastian echoed, stopping your train of thought.

Trying to focus your eyes, you looked at the pile of cards in front of you and drew another one.

“Do you… Have any… sixes?”

The four time champion just smiled and slid over some of his cards. You neatly made a pile of your finished “sixes” cards. Moments later, there was a slight knock on the door before it slowly pushed open towards the two of you.

“Hi, Mrs. Schumacher. It’s good to you see you again.”

So here’s the thing - You had been called that many times now. Almost every nurse and doctor has called you that… And since you had no room to counter, you never corrected them. Who knows? Maybe you and Mick actually got married after high school like the two of you talked about. And as weird as it was for you to be called that… It certainly felt right and didn’t make you feel uncomfortable - which of course made things curious and curioser.

“Mrs.… Schumacher??” Sebastian Vettel put his cards down and eyed the nurse and the doctor. There was a look on their faces that you couldn’t quite place.

“So sorry, no,” The doctor began correcting his mistake. He finally addressed you by your first and last name. “I’m sorry, again. Mr. Schumacher is your medical proxy and I forget that those in fact, do not have to be spouses.”

The doctor nervously chuckled as he prepared various medicinal instruments. It would happened two times a day where they’d check your cognitive function and your response to stimuli. Sometimes you’d say things that were a memory, but moments later you forget you said that. You even had times where Mick was in the same room, and you had forgotten who he was so you called him… Pleading for him to come back and comfort you.

He was the only constant in your life.

The doctor and nurses finished their exam and let you get back to your card game. You had no memory of the man who sat across from you, even though he said he was like family to Mick and that he knew you when you were little. He’d tell you stories about his time in Formula One, and how he’s focused on sustainability now and finding new hobbies. You truly were delighted in the presence of this man, but deep down inside you wished that Mick were there.

He had some press releases to do, as his racing came to halt when you crashed out in Silverstone. He was planning on racing the last 5 races as you were getting better now. Well, physically. Your leg was almost ready to be put in a regular soft cast once the rods would be removed. Your arm was out of its cast completely, and it seemed like your ribs and spine were doing okay. It was just your dumb brain that needing fixing.

“You alright?” Soon, Sebastian’s voice pulled you out of your endless thinking. “We can stop, if you’d like. I think you are beating me, anyway.”

Silently, you put down your cards and pushed the tray that was on wheels aside. You didn’t know what was coming over you. You felt an immense sadness and regret, but you didn’t know why. You were lost. Having your memories stripped of you is such a cruel fate… You rather have just not survived.

“I’m not good enough for him.” You plainly stated.

Sebastian blinked a few times as he put down his playing cards as well. He took a deep breath and tried his best to comfort you.

“Why do you say that? He’s been here every day since you crashed.” Sebastian’s tone was cautious, but caring.

“i mean… Look at me? I have rods sticking out of my leg… And I can’t remember shit. It’s pathetic.”

The former F1 didn’t have a response. He couldn’t imagine what you were going through, let alone the both of you. He just gently reassured you with a grasp of his hand on yours. Before you knew it, even his thoughts were halted by someone entering your hospital room.

“Hello, ma’am, I’m Nurse Elsie.” The brunette nurse beamed at you, and took the clipboard off of the end of the bed. “Do you remember who I am?” Her British accent was thick… You couldn’t place from where though.

You paused and did your best to remember someone named Elsie.

“You-You were there when I first woke up… And you were telling me to stay calm…”

The nurse’s expression immediately turned. Complete surprise and bliss overtook her as she grinned at you and Sebastian. She grabbed your hands ever so softly and opened her mouth to speak.

“Yes, that’s correct! I was here the day you came in, and I haven’t left since.” It truly warmed your heart to see someone that hardworking have some sense of relief. “And I am glad you’re speaking English again!”

“Was… I not before?” Your eyebrows furrowed and your focused shifted to Sebastian. He pressed his lips in a tight line, debating if he should answer for you when Mick wasn’t there.

Clearing his throat, he straightened his posture and exhaled.

“When you first woke up, you were only speaking in German. Mick had to translate for you for a while, until you felt comfortable enough to speak English again.” Vettel calmly responds, his hand scratching at the stubble on his jawline. You nodded along while he explained a few more things to you.

About twenty minutes later after another few tests were done, you were absolutely exhausted. You tucked yourself into the hospital bed with one of Mick’s blankets added to the pile for extra warmth. His scent was wearing off of the blanket as you pulled it up to your chin. Mick was familiar to you, and to your feelings - Yet, part of him remained a stranger. He was older, well you both were now.

He was not the shy little school boy anymore, but a confident young man. His muscles had grown noticeably and his hair was long, like you liked it. His jawline had formed into sharp corners where it meets his ears, as opposed to the chubby faced kid who would ride his bike alongside you and hold your hand in crowded places so you wouldn’t get lost. On the other hand and maybe the stronger one at that, you didn’t recognize him at all. Sure, he looked like Mick and sounded like him… But there was a piece missing to the dynamic between the two of you that you couldn’t quite place.

When he would be in the hospital room with you, it was almost as if he was treating you with a fragility that was completely peculiar to the way your foggy memory could recall him treating you. He was always kind and always held a special tenderness for you, that much you could remember… But be that as it may, he was handling you now with a delicate hand - so afraid of breaking you further. You couldn’t tell from where you sat if it was because of your injuries that he was being extra careful around you, or because there was something he wasn’t telling you.

“Knock, Knock.” The familiar voice of another doctor entered your stumbling train of thought as they entered your room. Sebastian stood to greet her and shake her hand.

“How are you feeling today, ma’am?” You shrugged and mumbled something incoherent. “Right then! My name is Doctor Wells. I’m the Chief of Neurology, and have been following your case closely.”

You honestly were having a tough time keeping all these doctors and nurses straight in your head, that you thought adding one more to the list might make you explode. But still - you politely greeted her as you told her your name.

“You’ve been making great progress physically, it seems. Your leg will be moved to a soft cast in two days time, and then in about a month, we’ll x-ray your leg to see when we would take that cast off, but again, it’s looking good.” The doctor smiled as her green eyes scanned the clipboard in front of her.

She began to hum to yourself as she jotted down some notes. You immediately noticed it, and Sebastian immediately noticed you. It was as though you couldn’t breathe all of a sudden and you had no clue as to why. Your monitors began to beep at a rapid rate, while the voices around you were telling you things but you couldn’t hear them. All you could hear was a loud, sharp and lasting ringing in your eyes as you sobbed. Soon, you felt the calming medicine go through your IV and settle your heart rate. It took a few more minutes to gain your bearings.

“Es tut mir Leid (I’m sorry).” You breathed out as you laid back down trying to get comfortable again.

Sebastian excused himself to go make a phone call, assuring you that he’d be back in a few minutes.

“That’s quite alright. Your body has been through a lot these last few weeks.” Dr. Wells smiled at you with an overwhelming aura of reassurance. She took a beat, and pulled up her rolling stool next to your bedside. “May I ask what I did to trigger that reaction? I want to know so I won’t do it again.”

You turned your head to meet her gaze, her eyes filled with worry and sympathy. You tried your best to think about the answer to her question. She could practically hear the gears turning in your head while you attempted to pinpoint what it was that upset you.

“The humming… When you hummed… It… I don’t know - did something to me.” Dr. Wells nodded in response and promise that she wouldn’t do it again. “Can I ask you a question, Dr. Wells?”

“Anything at all.”

You moved your hospital bed up so you could sit up and see the doctor better. You had very little to go on, but what you could go off of confidently was people’s expressions and the way their faces moved when they spoke to you.

“What are my chances of getting my memory back, and if I don’t… What do I do?” In turn, your facial expression was desperate, reeking of hopelessness and despair. She could see the devastation the accident has brought you, as it seeped out of the pores of your skin and infected your surroundings.

“Well, you’re making good progress and you remember Nurse Elsie which is a great sign… And the fact that you still know who Mick is a great sign,” Dr. Wells began slowly. “But, we really won’t know the extent of the damage the crash took, especially in regard to your memory. All your brain scans have thus far been clean, with no cause for concern.”

You started to feel tears brimming in your eyes as you bit your bottom lip to try and stifle back your cries. Shakily, you let out whatever air you had left in your lungs now.

“Sometimes things like this just happen and we don’t know why… But what we do know is that memories can always be created. You may not be able to remember the ones you had previously, but you can always replace them with new ones, better ones even.”

The pair of you talked for a few minutes more about your situation and how best to help it. She gave you some flyers for support groups and some numbers for therapists that specialize in what you were going through. She checked your vitals once more before heading towards the door and exiting, smiling a courteous smile as she disappeared into the vast hospital.

On the rare occasion you were left alone in your room, you liked to write things down in a notebook Mick gave you. It was your favorite color, with a giant ‘MSC47’ sticker on it. You had asked him what that was and he told you it was his racing number. To that, you asked why he didn’t put your racing number… And in response to that, he sheepishly admitted that it slipped his mind to put your number, but he was glad you always had a reminder of him. You didn’t even notice you were reminiscing until you caught yourself stroking the sticker on the front of your notebook. Blinking a few times to clear your mind, you opened it up to the next free page only to see that someone really tried not to write in their typical chicken scratch.

Smidge,

If you are reading this, then I must be away doing some press related things. I wish I did not have to, but duty calls and I also think Toto would come to my house and drag me there himself (in a very nice way, of course). Anyway, I wanted to write you a short note and let you know that I will be back soon, and hopefully you will be coming home after that. I have rented a place out here for you and me that will be sufficient enough until you decide where you want to fully rest and recover. We can go back to your apartment in Italy or to one of my family’s cottages in Switzerland. I would even take you back to the states to find respite at my ranch in Texas, but I know you do not have fond memories of Texas. I want to do only what you are comfortable with, Schätzen.

As for my last few races, I am on the lookout for the best home care nurse I can find while I am away. Sebastian offered, but he has a family and children of his own. When you feel up to it, I would also like your opinion on how you would like your care to be handled when I am at a race. I want you to feel as safe and taken care of as possible. It kills me that I have to go away to participate in the last few races, but part of me is also excited to get back to driving alongside Lewis. We (Mostly I) will dedicate every race to you, Schätzen. Maybe if you are healed and well enough, you may be able to attend the last race of the season. That would be very fun, as I know some of the drivers are dying to see you again.

I cannot think of anything else to write that might ease your mind while I am gone for now. I cannot imagine how difficult it must be to not know anybody there, but I do hope that with Sebastian being there it has calmed some of your nerves. He admires you greatly, and you have always been fond of him. I feel exactly the same way. But you can always text message me or call me, if you need me. I know you are not quite comfortable with that form of communication yet, but I just want you to know that I will always respond and pick up when I see your name pop up on my phone.

Anyway, I am excited and full of anticipation for when I get to lay eyes on the most beautiful woman I have come to know again. Your strength and perseverance through this entire ideal has been something to write in the history books about. I cannot wait to hear your laugh and feel your fingers interlaced with mine. I am looking forward to our days spent on the couch, sharing a blanket, with you tucked underneath my side - where you fit so perfectly beside me as if it were meant to be. And until we see each other again, just know I am thinking of you always and missing you every second of the day.

You hold my heart in your hands.

Ich gehöre für immer dir.

(I am yours forever.)

Love,

Mickey

There were drops of water scattered across the page as you tried to stop yourself from crying again.

You may not know him, but he knows you. And the feeling was overwhelming.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian’s quiet voice came into notice as you looked up at him with tearful eyes. He tilted his head to the side in concern.

“He… Wrote me… He wrote me… This letter… He knew I would find it… He knew this… That I would want to write things down, after the day I had… And he knew I would find his letter…” You spoke in between sobs, your chest falling up and down at a rapid rate.

“Okay, okay. Let’s take a few deep breaths and then we can talk about it, ja?” Sebastian began to initiate some deep breathing, hoping you would follow suit.

After many seconds of doing some deep breathing, you closed your eyes and did your best to relax your body.

“He loves me, doesn’t he?”

Vettel paused, taking his seat beside you.

“Yes. He does.” The German driver answered solemnly.

“And I don’t love him? Isn’t that right?” You glanced around the dry hospital room, smears of bright white and the smell of rubbing alcohol apparent.

“I don’t want him to love me. I don’t deserve it.”

Sebastian Vettel, four time world formula one champion, and one of the most formidable motorsports athletes the world has ever known, was stunned. He remained tight lipped and stoic. In frustration, you threw the notebook onto the floor and put your head in your hands. You weren’t crying, no. But you were exasperated . You could hear beeping as each finger pressed a key in the background. You didn’t know what was what, except what was shown to you: The voice of somebody you used to know.

Sebastian had put the phone on speaker and handed it to you.

“Smidge? Are you okay?”

“Hello? Smidge?”

“Was machst du (What are you doing)?”

“Ich vermisse dich (I miss you).”

Mick’s voice was like the half of you that you didn’t know you needed. It melded perfectly with what you were missing in this dark despair of recent days. His slight German-Swiss accent brought you comfort like you didn’t know you needed. He had picked up the call no matter where he was or what he was doing.

“Komm zurück zu mir (Come back to me).” You could hear Mick let out a strained sigh. He wanted to come back, god did he want to.

“Mickey, please…”

Completely taking you off guard, the line went dead suddenly and you were left with another kind of beeping. You slowly handed the phone back to your almost friend, Sebastian. The former driver could only sigh and sit back in the chair that he had been making his home since Mick left.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Four Days Later

Your leg was finally out of those ghastly rods and into a softer cast. To think this feeling was heavenly, was something you would have never put on your radar thus far. Soon enough though as the many doctors and nurses came by, you were cleared to go home in the next 24 hours.

“We are glad to see you improving Mrs. Schumacher.” You did your best to make eye contact with the receptionist. “Please let us know if you need anything.”

“Thank you…” You started with caution.

“I’m not Mrs. Schumacher though… If you want to change that for your records or anything…” You tried your best to be nonchalant. The receptionist typed a few bits onto the computer in front of her.

Ushering for you to take a seat in the lobby, you tried your best to not think about the past.

Due to a reason unbeknownst to you, Mick was unavailable to take you home when it came to your releases date. You even braved the scary phone long enough to ask Sebastian if he could be there to take you to the new home Mick set up for you. He wished that he could, but evidently he had something to attend to.

Bravery aside, you sat curbside alone trying to figure out who to call. Your leg was in its soft cast, as you remained waiting for something or someone to come rescue you. You didn’t know where you were, you didn’t know any phone numbers off of the top of your head, and if it could get any worse, you were in England where it was raining.

“You’re going to catch a cold if you stay outside like this.”

Great. Now you’re fucking hearing things. Trying to shake the eerie feeling you had resting on your shoulders, you ignored the voice.

“Let me take you home, huh?” The voice repeated to you.

Your head turned to the left towards the voice. They were leaning against some concrete beam, cigarette almost totally nsmoked as they stepped towards you.

“John?”

“Hello, baby sister.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You weren’t sure how you ended up at your brother’s flat in whatever country you were in at the moment. The legalization of Mick being your medical proxy was iron clad….

You never once considered an actual family member to be there for you. And as it were, your big brother had also aged some. You knew it was him immediately though. You could tell because he sort of looked like you, and his voice sounded like the only other voice besides Mick that you knew.

“Are we going back home?” Your brother was doing the dishes as you sat on the couch, your leg elevated to help relieve some swelling.

Again, you repeated the question. You could hear him turning the water off, and see him drying his hands as he turned to face you.

“No, we’re going to stay here for a little while.”

Confusion washed over you once more. Did Mick call your brother because he was unable to pick you up from the hospital? Did Mick even know you were here? All you could do was nod, while your brother excused himself to go lay down. It had been a long day of driving for him from where he came from. You remained in the quiet of your own company for a moment, trying to think of all the possibilities that could have ended up with you being in some strange apartment in a country you hardly knew. Finally, you pulled out your phone that Mick bought for you, and took a deep breath.

You: Hi Mick

…

Mick: Hello, Schätzen! It makes me very happy to see your text.

You: Really?

…

Mick: Yes, really. I would never lie to you.

You: That’s sweet.

…

…

Mick: I am so sorry I cannot be there to bring you home, but I will be there tonight and we can have dinner and watch a movie, if you would like. But, my very good friend Daniel is going to pick you up from the hospital, okay? He should be there shortly, if you just want to wait in the lobby where it is warm and dry.

You reread the message as your heart rate began to hasten. If Mick had already made arrangements for you to get picked up from the hospital… How did your brother find you?

You: Oh. I thought you called John, because he picked me up from the hospital already. A few hours ago, actually. I got released early and thought maybe you called him since you couldn’t get there in time.

Milliseconds after you pressed send on your text, your phone screen lit up brightly in your face.

INCOMING CALL: Mick Schumacher

swipe to accept

Your thumb danced over the bottom of the screen, only to have your desire to hear his voice once again take over your body. Slowly, you accepted the call.

“Schätzen, where are you?” You could hear the panic in his voice. How the fuck were you supposed to know where you were?

“Um… I’m in John’s apartment, I think.” You spoke in a whisper as to not to disturb your resting brother.

“Scheiße, Scheiße, Scheiße (Shit, shit, shit)!”

On the other side of the phone you could hear him getting up and gather his belongings wherever he was. You could pick up bits and pieces of what he was telling someone near him, but not enough to put together a full sentence. You patiently waited on your side of the line for him to speak again. What seemed like forever went by, before he talked to you.

“Can you describe where you are? Can you look outside and see any street names, or building names?” You could tell he was jogging by now.

“I’d have to get up… And my crutches are… On the other side of the room…”

Mick felt absolutely stupid for forgetting that you had a cast on your leg. And he felt even more stupid that he allowed your safety to be compromised… Again. In his defense though, he gave strict instructions to the hospital staff not to allow anyone to take you home besides himself, Sebastian, and Daniel. He even started calling you his Mrs. Schumacher for extra protection, but he’d never tell you that secret.

He was trying as quickly as he could to figure out what the hell went wrong, and how the hell your brother found you. Mick told you he’d have to call you back, but that he promised he would call back in five minutes.

As you waited for him to call back, you decided to try and hobble over to the window. It was gloomy, of course, but you could still see a few things.

House Street

Franklin Street

You decided to text Mick the names of the cross streets, just in case. Glancing around some more through the window, you saw to the far right what looked like a school or a church. You squinted to try and get the name of it.

Longfellow Grade School: Home of The Lions

You also added that to your next text message to Mick, as well as the few models of cars that were sat out on the street. Exhausted now, you hobbled your way back over to the couch and let out all the air you had pent up in your lungs.

INCOMING CALL: Mick Schumacher

swipe to accept

Faster than you did the last time, you accepted the call and raised the phone to your ear.

“Hi Mick, are you okay?”

“The police are on their way, Schätzen. Do not be scared when they arrive, ja? I will be there as fast as I can too. Stay on the line.”

You had a lot of conflicting feelings at this point. Why were the police involved now? Why did Mick sound so afraid? You couldn’t remember the last few years, but now you’re having to deal with all of this? It was as though your body was frozen with a mixture of fear and sadness. You could barely move from your spot on the couch while you anticipated the police’s arrival.

“Okay, Mick. What is going on, though?”

“I will explain everything once I bring you back home, to our home.”

Soon enough, there was a loud knock on the door. You could hear your brother curse loudly from his room as you shrank into the corner of the couch. You were very afraid. Your brother stumbled out of his room, rubbing his eyes as he opened the door to his apartment. One police officer held up a piece of paper to his face, while the other one peered into the space making sure you were alright. The male officer began to speak to your brother about whatever was on the paper, while the female officer approached you with caution.

“Hi, there. My name is Officer Clarkson. Are you alright?” Her voice was calming, and probably the most calming thing about this entire situation. She sat on the couch, keeping a good distance between you.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know where I am.”

Mick had told the dispatchers that you were in a potentially dangerous situation, and that you had been in a bad car crash a month before resulting in some memory loss. He also told them that you in fact had a restraining order out against your brother, and that he had no clue how he got past the hospital staff.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to know anything right now. I’m just going to sit here with you, while my partner takes care of that young man. Is that alright?” Again, the peaceful cadence of her voice warmed you, and made you feel instantly safe.

“Yes.”

Your head quickly whipped to the side when your brother began yelling at the officer. He was pinned up against the wall, face to it, with his hands behind his back. The male officer handcuffed your brother and escorted him out to the police vehicle. It all happened so fast that you weren’t sure what to make of it. Officer Clarkson said some police speak into her walkie talkie that was on her chest, echoing some of the things being said back to her. She got up from the couch and looked around.

“Can you remember the last time you saw your brother?” You only shook your head in response. Your eyes followed the trail she was walking around the tiny apartment.


After a few more questions that you honestly did not know the answers to, you could hear the radio on her chest go off. The officer grabbed your crutches, and the bag you had at the hospital and escorted you downstairs. There was another police car, an SUV. Two more officers approached you, both women.

“This is Officer Hammond and Officer May. They’re going to drive you home, your real home.”

You thought you might combust trying to keep everyone’s names straight. But you still didn’t have any answers as to why your brother was sitting in the back of a cop car. And as you did so dutifully in the hospital, you did again as you just stood in silence allowing things to be explained to you.

“Your friend Mick - the one who called the us - Will meet you there. Your brother won’t bother you ever again, ma’am.” Officer Clarkson gave a promising smile and nod as she handed your bag to one of the other female officers.


Soon, you were in the backseat of the car as the three of you silently drove to wherever this new place was.

Two hours later, you were woken by Officer May trying coax you out of your sleep. You felt embarrassed for falling asleep, but it seemed like your body needed it. Rubbing your eyes, you looked over the officer’s shoulder to see you were parked in front of a modest one story home. You were in the countryside somewhere, and knowing Mick and his love for the countryside, you could tell that he put a lot of thought into this home. Even if it was going to be temporary, you enjoyed the thought of recovering somewhere private and secluded.

Officer May helped you out of the car and handed you your crutches. The sound of another car hastily pulling up made all three of your head’s turn sharply to the right. In true Mick fashion, he sported a big red truck as he parked in haphazardly. He couldn’t move fast enough though, as he jumped out of the car not even closing the door behind him. Mick ran up to you, his hands frantically searching your face for any wounds. He was rambling in German… Italian… Maybe even French as he brought you into a much needed embrace. He kissed the top of your head and looked at you with nothing but regret.

“Smidge, I am so sorry. I really do not know how this could have happened, but you are safe now. Okay? Completely safe from everything.” Mick profusely thanked the officers, and made a note to call and thank the other officers as well.

Mick helped you inside, before returning to the officers so that he could speak to them about the situation. They assured him that they would look into just how your brother was able to pick you up and take you out of the hospital. He wanted nothing more than answers at this point. (Join the club, right?)

You were still on edge when you heard the door open, your flinching making it clear. Mick walked towards you as cautiously as he could.

“It is just me, Smidge; Just Mick.” He stepped in front of you, his face softened by the sight of you. “I am sorry I scared you.”

“It’s just been a long day…” Mick led you carefully to the couch so that you could sit and rest your leg. Propping your leg up on some pillows, Mick moved to the kitchen to get you some water and some food.

The house was nicely decorated with accents of a familiar shade of red all around. The couch beneath you felt like a marshmallow compared to last couch you were sat on, and the hospital bed you had quite become accustomed to for the last month. Mick returned with a water bottle and a few snacks he might think you would want. Sitting beside you, but keeping a respectful space between you, the blond haired boy rubbed a very tired hand over his face. Leaning his head back onto the back of the couch and stretching out his arms too, he sighed a sigh of relief and closed his eyes. You watched him carefully, and more meticulously than you had in the hospital.

You liked the way his nose was slightly bigger than normal and the way that it curved downwards at the end. You noticed how his darkened blond hair curled ever so slightly at the tips. His lips were a pretty shade of pink too. You wondered if you ever had the pleasure of kissing them. His neck was bigger than you last could remember it to be. Mick’s Adam’s Apple moving up and down as he swallowed, sucking the insides of left side of his mouth. Mick always did that when he was overworked.

“Sind Sie gestresst (Are you stressed)?” Mick just hummed in response, your body relaxing at the familiar sound.

You remember how you reacted when the doctor hummed. Shuddering away that terrible thought, you scooted closer to him.

“Mir wird es gut gehen (I will be okay).” His eyes were still closed as he responded.

You took a beat and took a nice long deep breath. You remember what he had written in his letter. He probably had to leave his work to come find you. And the fact that he did made you feel something you hadn’t felt before - or at least couldn’t remember feeling. This man has always cared for you. Since you were children, he has always put you first and always made sure you were taken care of in every sense of the word. He was the only thing that connected you to your past and all of your lost memories. And surely he knew the weight of it all, yet he didn’t seem to be overwhelmed by it. He would carry the weight of the world on his shoulders if that meant he got to see you happy.

Something in the back of your head was telling you to reject these new feelings, though. You couldn’t tell what it was that was making you want to hide your emotions. The pull was strong. It was like The Force, pulling you into a dark deep alley where you were always meant to be: Alone.

You did your best to shake the distressing thought. Going back to happier things, you recited the letter in your head as you decided to be brave. After all, you didn’t survive a high speed car crash for nothing, right?

Nodding assertively to yourself, you managed to wiggle into Mick’s side. Your leg was still propped up, just now onto the coffee table in front of you. As best as you could and as comfortably too, you tucked yourself into him and his arm wrapped around you as if it were a dance you two had done a million times before. Your eyelids began to feel heavier and heavier as you felt the warmth of his body warm yours. It was not secret that the both of you were dog-tired as neither of you said a word.

The only thing surrounding you now was the sound of rain hitting the roof and someone’s arm wrapped tightly around you. And while you may not have any memories of the last few years, now was as good as time as ever to begin making new ones.

[simpforchuchu]

Broken

Prompts: DAY 24 - “i’m doing this because i care about you” @febuwhump Characters: Nakagoshi x reader Fandom: High and Low Summary: Nakagoshi making everything worse

A/n for prompts: Hello guys! This is my first time trying a prompt challenge. I hope you like the short fics I wrote. I will finish them by writing some of the requests I have. I love you 💜

Sorry for the grammer or spelling mistakes.English is not my main language so...

Thank you and love you 🥰

Warnings: mention of fights but mostly fluffy

The young boy stood in front of the door of the broadcasting room, deciding whether to enter or not. He knew how much he hurt her. They had their first serious fight. And he was a little afraid of getting beaten by the three bodyguards next to his girlfriend inside.

While he was walking back and forth in front of the door, the door of the broadcasting room opened and someone came out. Even though Nakagoshi turned his head to see the person he saw, Todoroki had already seen him.

The boy with glasses raised his eyebrows and looked at the younger boy.

“I know why you are here, but it would be a lie if I said I wasn't surprised by your courage.”

Todoroki rolled his eyes when Nakagoshi nodded shyly.

"You can go in, tell Tsuji and Shibaman that I'm looking for them."

Nakagoshi nodded and bowed slightly

“Thank you senpai”

Todoroki nodded and headed towards the stairs. The young boy opened the door of the broadcasting room and entered with fear.

Tsuji and Shibaman were playing mobile games on the couch. As soon as the door opened, the girl punching the punching bag and the duo turned to the door.

Y/n was quite angry. She was also a part of this school and it made her angry that her boyfriend was treating her like this.

Shibaman stood up from the couch and moved towards the door.

Nakagoshi looked at the two nervously. The fights between Oya factions were over. Y/n had joined the Todoroki Faction, although they faced each other many times at first, those days were in the past. And the two fell in love with each other.

In fact, others were also quite happy about this situation. But today's fight made everyone angry.

Nakagoshi was in fault. What he said wasn't nice. Y/n was broken. Even though he realized his mistake now, Tsuji and Shiba still wanted to beat him.

Nakagoshi looked up at Shiba and bowed.

“Can I talk to Y/n, senpai?”

“Can you?”

When Shibaman raised an eyebrow and asked, Tsuji smiled and stood up. He touched Shiba's shoulder and stood in front of Nakagoshi.

“We will be right there, outside of the door.”

"But-"

“Shiba, let's go. They need to talk.”

When Tsuji pulled Shiba's arm and wanted to take him out, Shiba gave a threatening look one last time and went out with Tsuji.

Nakagoshi sighed and looked at the girl who was still punching the punching bag. She wasn't looking at him, she wasn't saying anything. He must have really hurt her.

He walked slowly towards the young girl. He held the bag she punched tightly and made the young girl stop. Y/n lowered her arms and looked at the boy in front of her.

Her gaze was very serious.

"What do you want ?"

“Please don't talk to me like that, I want to apologize.”

Y/n raised her fist again and punched the bag the boy was holding. She sighed and shouted

"I am tired. I am really tired. I'm tired of fighting about it all the time."

The young girl's voice became hoarse after a while. Her boyfriend nodded and took her hand.

"I know, I'm sorry. But you don't understand me either-“

“Because you're wrong.”

Y/n pulled her hand back and moved towards the couch. She sat down angrily and looked at the boy coming after her

“You are wrong. I was coming to the fights even before I met you. The only way to survive in this school is to fight. I really don't understand, why are you doing this?"

"Because I care about you." The young boy lowered his head and crouched in front of the young girl

“I'm doing this because I care about you, y/n. But I have no right to interfere with you. I know. I am sorry. I'm just too scared of losing you, so I don't know what I'm saying."

When the young boy's eyes filled with tears, y/n looked at him in surprise for a few seconds. She knew that Nakagoshi truly loved her. Even though she was hurt, she didn't want to see him cry. She took him by the hand and stood up with him.

“You are such an idiot. Just like everyone else in this school. But unfortunately I love you."

The young boy smiled at his girlfriend who hugged him and hugged her tightly. Being separated from her was the worst feeling in the world...

HnL taglist : @straysugzhpe @tiddly-winx @ninamarie1994 @emperorsnero @koala-yuna @little-miss-naill

[the-cannibal]

I love your writing so much <3 could you please write about og Michael, Bubba and Jason getting cleaned, dressed nicely and generally pampered by their s/o before bed?

Awww thank you so much! I’m so glad you enjoy it! I love this prompt, these boys deserve all the pampering and love!

Wrote this on mobile so I apologize if it looks strange. Also I’m so sorry for taking so long to write this, I’ve had huge writers block and my mental health really hit me with a hammer I swear-

Slashers with a s/o that pampers and loves them before bed

Gender neutral reader - they/them and you is used

Slashers featured - og Michael Myers, Bubba Sawyer, and Jason Vorhees

Michael Myers

It had been a long day for Michael. It was Halloween after all, the one day every year he went out and did… Well you already know all about that.

So when your partner came back home, clothes bloodied and clearly looking exhausted, you knew you had to help. Without saying anything you went to the bathroom and began a hot shower for him. You knew he much preferred showers over baths. But to make it a little extra special you got him a new smelling shampoo, rather than the plain non scented one he had been using. Nothing strong to overwhelm him. But something a little nicer than smelling just like… Well nothing.

“Shower is all ready for you, Michael. Go ahead and leave your clothes outside the door and I’ll get them all washed for you.” You smiled at him. He said nothing, but ruffled your hair as he walked past you, a silent way of saying thanks. After you heard the door shut you gathered up his clothes, spraying them down with all the cleaning products you have (plus a little extra) and tossed them in the wash by themselves. You made the mistake of washing them with your clothes one time. Never again…

While waiting for Michael to get done with his shower you made the bed, smoothing out the blankets. Michael came out of the bathroom soon after you were done, a towel wrapped around his waist and wet hair that you couldn’t help but laugh at. He tilted your head at you and you shook yours back at him. “Nothin, Mikey, don’t worry about it.” You assured. “I think we should head to bed, it’s late and you’ve had a long day.”

He seemed to like that idea, slipping on a pair of boxers and some pumpkin pajama pants that you seemed to think he absolutely needed. He’d never admit it to you, but they were his favorite thing to wear to bed. The two of you got settled in bed, you quickly finding place in Michaels arms as you gently rubbed his back to help his sore muscles. He had to admit, he did feel a lot better now that he was home with you… Oh and I suppose the shower and nice bed helped too, but mostly you. So he expressed his gratitude by gently kissing the top of your head, making you hum in response.

Bubba Sawyer

“Bubba?” You called out for your partner, but got no response back. You quickly made your way around the house in search for him, but when you found him hunched over the couch crying, your heart sank. Quickly you crouched in front of him, lifting his face in your hands to have him look at you. His mask felt rough on your skin, but you never minded it.

“Bubs what’s wrong?” You asked but only got a string of mumbled whimpers and blubbers as you softly brushed his hair with your fingers. He motioned his hand around his face, making you frown as you could guess what was wrong. Some visitors has stumbled onto the property earlier today, and Bubba went and took care of it. And knowing how rude the people that come across any of the Sawyers, but especially Bubba, they definitely made your man feel bad about the way he looks. And that made your blood boil. But they were gone now, so it wasn’t like you could go do anything to them. What you could do was take care of your partner and try and cheer him up.

“Hey hon, how would you feel about a nice warm bath?” You offered him with a soft smile. “Sometimes when I’m upset they help me. And then after that we can go take a nice nap?” You wiped the tears from his cheeks as he nodded into your hands, and lead him towards the bathroom. You made sure the water wasn’t too hot or cold and then turned to Bubba with a gentle look. “Want me to wash your hair for you?” He froze with a beet red face, almost unsure if he should let you. Laughing you kissed the side of his head. “Don’t worry I won’t be lookin atcha like that.” As much as you’d love to fully appreciate your partners body, you knew right now wasn’t the time for that.

Slowly Bubba nodded his head and stripped his clothes once you looked away, slowly dipping himself in the water and giving a small grunt to let you know you could turn around. All you could see was his bare back and messy hair. You made sure to get his hair nice and wet and then began massaging the shampoo into his hair, nails softly scratching his scalp and making him lean his head back against your hand. You made small talk with him to distract him from what upset him. Telling him about your day, what plans you had for the weekend, and other random things. Finally you rinsed the soap out of his hair and turned back around, hand gripping the door.

“I’m gonna go get our bed ready, take your time in here.” You said before leaving the bathroom. The bed was already made but you decided to dig out a new pair of pajamas that you were gonna give to Bubba for his birthday, but perhaps today is a better day to give it to him. Bubba came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around him and hair damp. He went over to the dresser to get some clothes, but stopped when he noticed the pajamas you had placed on the bed. A nice dark blue tank top so he won’t get too hot in the Texas heat, and some shorts that had chickens scattered across them.

Bubba wasted no time getting into the new pajamas and practically tackling you to the bed as he happily squealed and peppered your cheeks with kisses. He seemed to be in a much better mood!

Jason Vorhees

Finally for once in what feels like forever, you and Jason had a day to spend together with no interruptions. Aka, no one crossing in the camp. Which shouldn’t be as common as it is. It isn’t even summer yet!

As the two of you snuggled on the couch watching your movie roll it’s credits, Jason noticed how dark it had gotten outside and tapped your shoulder.

‘It’s late,’ he signed. ‘We should get settled down.’ A yawn escaping your lips let him know that you agreed.

Jason went into your shared bedroom to go make the bed, meanwhile you decided the run him a warm bath. Jason noticed you hadn’t followed him and found you in the bathroom running the water.

“Thought a warm bath would be nice for you.” You smiled up at him. ‘If I smell you could have just said-‘ he began signing which made you laugh.

“No no you don’t smell!” You said between laughs, turning off the faucet. “It’s just a good way for you to relax your muscles. Besides after all the work you do around here to make sure we’re safe it’s the least I can do,” You gentle massaged his shoulders before then exiting the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. “Just don’t get so relaxed you fall asleep in there!” You jokingly shouted from behind the closed door

You decided to get Jason’s pajamas laid out on the bed for him and went to the bookshelf and grabbed the book you two had been reading together.

Jason didn’t take long in the bath, and when he came out and saw you laying underneath the covers with the book in hand his eyes lit up. You could just tell he was smiling underneath his mask. Quickly he slipped into the pajamas you had laid out for him and slipped under the covers, snuggling up close to you.

“Gotta take your mask off, Jason.” You softly spoke as you gently took it off his face and set it down on the nightstand besides him. “It’s not good for you to sleep in.” Pressing a soft kiss against his nose, making his chest shake in a small giggle fit as he smiled down at you. The two of you stayed snuggled up, as you read only a short chapter before noticing Jason had fallen asleep. It was slightly difficult to get the lamp turned off with Jason’s arms wrapped around your waist, but you managed.

[clementineofmine]

"Some Things Just Take Time," #2, 4, and 14

Woohoo, thanks @rockinlibrarian for another ask for Some Things Just Take Time!

2: What scene did you first put down?

This is the second fic in a series, so by this time I had an idea of what the characters were doing and what I wanted to happen so I started with the first scene with Five and Dolores! And then I did actually attempt to plot this out chapter by chapter, but of course that changed wildly over time. I'm a panster, not a plotter, at heart, so even my best laid plans are often waylaid by the characters making their own decisions and not telling me ahead of time.

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

Yay, I wrote much more dialogue for this fic than I ever had before, so I'm glad I get to answer this again! One of my favorite scenes is Five and Diego in the aftermath of some shenannigans. In this scene, Diego's been pissed at Five for some valid and some not very valid reasons for quite a while now, and I wanted to give these two a chance to connect and potentially heal old grudges. Sorry this is more than dialogue but eh I get to answer it how i want :)

“Remember that stupid board that Dad had? That he insisted on those stupid bullshit scores?” Diego asked. “I didn’t think they were bullshit,” Five shook his head slightly.  Diego looked at Five, and had to do a double take. Whether it was the resurgence of memories or the way Five’s hair had fallen across his face, Five looked incredibly young, and so much like the teenager Diego remembered.  Diego blinked to clear that thought. “Yeah, well that’s because you were usually on top, asshole. Half the time you cheated.”  Five scoffed. “Technically, using our powers wasn’t cheating.”  “Technically,” Diego scoffed back, “means bullshit and you know it.” Five looked at the ceiling before he spoke next. “You and Luther were always so full of yourselves. Allison, too. Like, just because my number was five, instead of one or two, I was supposed to let you beat me or something.” “Well, I—” Diego bit back a smart retort and started again. “No. It wasn’t that. Dad just always seemed to like you better. And then when you left…” he swallowed the rest of that sentence, tasting the bitterness of the words.  When Five had left, their father spent the next three years pushing the rest of the siblings, as if they had to make up for the loss of his favorite. He had pushed them to achieve, pushed them into fame, but it was always with a sneer on his face, always with a taste of bitterness. It was untenable, and Ben had been the first to break. After that, they had all found their way to leave.  “...it was like he was punishing us. For you being gone.” 

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

YES THERE IS. I'm not the first or the last author to do this, but what drove me to write this fic is wanting to show the siblings working together, working through their dysfunction, to succeed. And secondly, for them to realize the value in working as a team. I also wanted to showcase Five as I see him, as an old and tired, half-mad, flawed person who makes mistakes but is never going to stop, never going to give up until he saves his family. He's a character driven by love, even if he doesn't quite understand what that means.

Thanks so much for the ask! It was fun. And, it forced me to remember my tumblr password so I could do this on my computer, because doing asks on mobile is bullshit.

Fic ask game

[arbuz-ik]

Touch myself

(The title is taken from one GRLwood song because I love that song, lol.)

Pairing: Sylvie x fem!reader

Word count: 4.1k

I hope there are no mistakes here.

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

Sylvie was glad to finally get some rest. She knew that Loki would not have made such a sacrifice for nothing. He wanted the best for her, even if it wasn't going to be with him. Loki did what needed to be done and what needed to be done, as Sylvie certainly didn't want to sit in one place somewhere in ruins for the rest of her very long life, and Loki knew it.

Sylvie walked down the road and drank a soda from McDonald's, already thinking about how she would have a good strong coffee after she got back to her small flat. Tomorrow she also had a shift at McDonald's, but Sylvie wasn't complaining. Everything was fine until a text message arrived on her mobile phone. She knew that storing future technology in 1983 wasn't a good idea, but it was the only communication she had with you.

"What are you doing?" your message read. Easy and simple enough, making Sylvie smirk in thought.

She had met you before the whole Loki thing. Sylvie had accidentally fallen into your timeline then, as TemPad's charge was running low. So she had to stay at your flat for a while, and you two... Yeah. Yeah, and it seems like Sylvie knew you didn't mind her coming round afterwards, so she came round to fuck.

And then the whole Loki thing, TVA, and then McDonald's, where she could finally think things through. You loved her, really, even though she'd thought it was just sex before. But now the two of you were almost like a couple.

"Coming home from work." replied Sylvie dryly.

You never liked that. Sylvie only sent you hearts emojis when she was maxed out drunk, and mostly everything was short, to the point, and literate.

"Shame it's without me." was the reply, which made Sylvie take another sip. She knew what you'd texted her for.

***

Sylvie arrived home about ten minutes later. Her coat was now lying on the sofa and she was in a grey t-shirt and plain pants, sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee while it was night outside.

Sylvie couldn't have come to your timeline so often. Firstly she didn't want to spoil you, secondly she was working, thirdly she just liked to know how you were writhing with desire because she only came to you twice a month.

"I know what you're writing to me for." wrote Sylvie, waiting for a reply, which of course wouldn't come, so she wrote a couple more minutes later. "Thinking about me again? Dirty. Very dirty."

"I'm sorry, Sylvie, sometimes I just can't stand it."

"You never know how to do that."

You sighed unhappily as you read the message. Your own hand slid more slowly under your trousers now, as you didn't expect Sylvie to text again. Your own room was dark and quiet, apart from the heavy breathing and the fact that you were typing with one hand. "I can do that."

Sylvie smirked, even snorting, knowing you were lying stupidly.

"Masturbating, are you? I already know you're already imagining mine instead of your fingers, and thinking about how I could whisper some nasty things in your ear, right?" Sylvie knew you were probably already blushing and squealing at this. You were easy to tease.

Your fingers sped up slightly, though Sylvie looked completely neutral if you could see her. You bit your lip with a quiet moan. You missed her caresses, her hands, her voice and just her in general, so you had to do it almost every night. And you always loved it when Sylvie helped you with it, even like this.

"Yeah, sorry."

"Don't apologise. Just be my sweet princess and push your clit harder. Don't be shy, honey."

A slight moan escaped your lips and your hand did as Sylvie asked and goosebumps ran down your skin and the slight throbbing inside your body increased slightly.

"Will you want my photos afterwards?"

"Sure." Sylvie replied, taking a sip from her mug, biting her lip slightly. She did, after all, have a separate folder of such photos, which she was very fond of. "Now slowly insert another finger, don't be gentle."

There were now two fingers inside, causing a low sweet moan to escape your lips and your eyes to close for a moment in pleasure. Until another message came from Sylvie.

"Yes, move gently. Move and think it's me doing it. Except of course my rings on fingers won't be hitting your tender flesh with every thrust, but that's fine too." Sylvie felt that at this rate you would be coming to climax in about a minute, maybe less. She herself was already squirming in the chair, feeling aroused and eager. "Be a good girl for me."

Your hand moved faster and faster as you thought about how Sylvie could be here. You imagined how you could feel the slight chill coming from her, since she was half Jotun after all. Moans escaped your lips more and more as you reread Sylvie's messages over and over to cum.

"Obedient but dirty girl who likes to masturbate while she thinks of me and misses me." read another message, which was the last straw before your orgasm. It made your body shudder and your tongue stuck out for a couple of moments while requests popped out of your lips into the void.

After a moment, you calmed down, which allowed you to text Sylvie. Finally.

"You're going to get me someday."

"Don't worry, next time I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to sit up."

[ratwars]

Who do you think is the deepest character in diabolik lovers and whyyyyyy :3 (sorry if this is weird btw :,))

Tomà out here activating my dialovers derangement syndrome 🥲 ty ty ty also sry sry sry in advance 🙏💜

Minors dni with this post

This is not weird omg no one ever asks me about dialovers you need to understand I was into VNs including otome before I was into any anime (including bsd) and diabolik lovers is my longest term obsession that isn't music 💜🙏 This is mostly going to involve things from the games (because the anime was basically silly fanservice that barely scratches the surface for anyone) but I'll leave out drama cd stuff because I would actually need to go refresh myself on those.

Absolute novel under the cut sorry. also cw noncon, cw dubcon, cw abuse, cw csa, cw suicide, cw matricide

Anyone not familiar with the series who decides to continue pls be aware of these warnings and take care of yourself. Also pls understand everything I say is in terms of the series and setting. Absolutely nothing that happens in these games would make any of these characters redeemable irl. This is fiction and a trashfire Do-S fetish franchise. Trauma doesn't excuse abuse. I don't condone any of the bad behavior from this series irl. (Sorry since this isn't my sideblog I feel I need to explain this so ppl don't come at me thinking I'm excusing stuff for reals with this little analysis)

Also this is probably going to have spelling mistakes and horrific formatting because I wrote it on mobile so my bad on that too.

This was so hard to answer because so many of them have serious trauma, maladaptive coping mechanisms, and large amounts of growth throughout the various sequels. I think you could make the logical argument of depth for every single character. The Sakamaki triplets are def the most tragic of the first two games in this regard though (maybe only rivaled by the Tsukinami brothers once we get to Dark Fate because of the whole being the sole survivors of genocide thing)

But as a whole I think Carla and Shin deal with their predicaments in a more outwardly focused manner (which makes sense given their stories and roles as antagonists in their debut game) so I don't think I could objectively call them the deepest esp Carla even though he is my fave.

So out of the Sakamaki triplets I am going to go with Laito. Shocking I know because I have said before he is the one I am the most terrified of. But hear me out.

(I'm using HBD (haunted dark bridal) to refer to the first game, and MB (more blood) to refer to the second game going forward)

His first route in hdb is a stomach twisting mess of isolation, noncon, gaslighting and victim blaming. It is also the only route in that game where Yui tries to kill herself, which imo is really notable. Tbh the first time I played it I was so deeply uncomfortable I didn't really give his character a lot of thought. During replays and some of his drama cds though it def changed my perspective of him (in terms of the deepness of his character, not my dislike of him)

Here are my arguments in topical format because I don't really want to go through and do the research needed to refresh myself and make this chronological. Also if I am mistaken with anything I've paraphrased my bad it's because this isn't a real essay more of a rant that you might regret reading lol.

- Cordelia

We can't go into the rest of my arguments without the facts. He was groomed by his mother and experienced a childhood of CSA at her hands. And he is absolutely confused and suffering when he has his flashbacks. Yes he kills her with the other two triplets, but that didn't actually solve anything for him internally, and I think it is a pretty clear-cut argument that his negative traits and behaviors can be linked back to his unresolved trauma from this. He even says it himself too when he tries to project onto Yui and claim her hatred for him must be the same as his for Cordelia (though unnamed in his quote im pretty sure) that a hatred can run so deep that even killing the person won't relieve the burning. The other ironic part of this is that in the dialovers universe it is explained multiple times that the highest act of love for a vampire is murder. So. Every LI (Reiji, Laito, Ayato, Kanato) that committed matricide out of their hatred probably has some deeper more complex feelings going on than that. (You could also argue maybe a similar thing about Carla and patricide as well though he is Founder/First Blood not vampire. But he is more open about his reasoning and feelings around his parents and why he did what he did imo)

- His disdain of purity (plot twist. It's jealousy).

We repeatedly see him mock both Yui's purity and religiosity. He is arguably the worst out of all of the LIs when it comes to this topic, and hits this point right out the gate when he assaults her in the abandoned church. It is simultaneously a logical and also weird choice on his part to continue on with when you realize how unwavering her faith actually is, and if you do other routes before this one you are already coming in realizing no matter how much she "breaks", "changes", or "gives in" in other ways, she never actually abandons her faith completely even in future games when she is living quite literally in the demon world. Even in routes where she becomes a vampire she doesn't eschew God. However it is canon that she is a devout Catholic and that she originally wanted to be a nun (before the events of the game screw that up for her), so it is still relevant.

While it may have started as a way to try and break her down, it really becomes more and more clear through his routes that like a bunch of his other behaviors, he is projecting his own struggles onto Yui.

He is jealous of her purity, so he attacks it. He is jealous of her faith, so he attacks it. He is jealous of her unwavering belief in goodness and in humanity, so he just. keeps. attacking. it. Because seeing it exist in front of him hurts, but especially early on he isn't aware of his own emotions or why he acts the way he does. So many things in his routes and his monologues highlight the fact that Laito views himself as permanently dirtied by his past, and this behavior is tied to that.

- His inability to identify his feelings from his fake front and his use of sex to maladaptively deal with his trauma.

** I wrote way too much on this and decide nvm I think even if someone has only seen the anime his hypersexuality probably speaks for itself. Plus this is getting so long 😔**

-His lack of control in MB and "forced" behavior. His confusion over his own tears near the end of HDB.

There are various instances (esp in MB where his characterization is wildly different and desperate compared to HDB) where we see his mask start to crack, or realize that his mask wasn't actually very good to begin with and the exhaustion from the continous abuse in his routes has caused both Yui (and us as the reader) to fall for his bullshit more easily. He plays the part of a pervert, but Shu (who arguably is a massive pervert) calls him out in MB for being a phony. His behavior in MB makes him come across as desperate and out of control, as opposed to his calculated sadism in HDB. This all comes back to his inner turmoil, unresolved feelings, and trauma and we slowly unpeal those layers through the rest of the series.

I think at baseline it is really easy to dismiss Laito. I did from the beginning too. Plus he never stops calling Yui Bitch-chan no matter how many sequels he gets 🤦‍♂️ But that is just falling for his fake front, exactly what he wants you to do because then he can just keep carrying on without dealing with his bs and let off steam temporarily in the process. But under the surface there is a lot more going on. And he definitely is a character that has an insane amount of depth.

Sorry for the multi part novel. I don't even like him as an LI even in this series. But for a series with so many inconsistencies, retcons across games, and questionable writing choices, they did a good job with his character. I just need him to stay far away from both me and Yui 🥲 Imagine if you had asked me something that prompted me to talk about my faves 💀💀💀

[feiandart]

This is something people asked me more than a couple times until now in the comments, both in the Italian version of Sugar and in the English one. I often answer this with a couple paragraphs of light explanations, but you know what? Have a seat, I'll actually talk about this in a proper way and this may be a very long ride.

I warn you: I'm writing this from my mobile in my free time. This means early in the morning or late at night after a whole day doing things. My brain is shit in those moments so you could find a lot of errors. I'm sorry if my English will be poor, I'm not really able to correct anything. (Also, I prefer to give you my honest flow without corrections. That may actually help getting the right vibe from all of this? I hope so).

But let's go to the proper answer.

I've been asked: "how much of your life do you process through words?"

There is no easy way to say this, no way to avoid being honest here. The reality is that I put all of my life into this story. There might be a lot of differences in the events, but the feelings, all the traumas I talk about, things the characters say, think or do, all of that is mine. I could literally take pieces from all the chapters and give all of them deep explanations on how those are not just mine, but me. I am between the lines, hidden inside all the metaphors, stuck under the weight of the baddest chapters, trying to breathe after writing the most emotional ones.

I know it's a fanfiction. I know the story is not perfect, that there may be holes in the plot and the characters may seem badly shaped, rough, not real. I know, I am not a professional writer, I might make mistakes. This is no excuse, mind me, but not everything in life is coherent or logical as we often see in the media. We can spend hours or a lifetime creating the perfect story with everything perfectly crafted but that doesn't make it real, because incoherence is a huge part of the human experience. And that is what I want Sugar to be: human, not perfect. Realistic when it comes to emotions and relationships, not necessarily in its plot or events. I want it to be a trip into the deep abyss of an injured mind, trying to hold on with a broken heart, not three unicorns running to Candy Mountain. I want to break you into pieces and slowly help to put everything back together.

Look guys, I get it as much as I get that is not actually a story for everyone. You open it expecting another plot and I give you a bad time instead. You think it's something about a sugar babe and his daddy and I give you traumas and none of that. You come for the smut and I put old wounds and control needs over that too, also denying it for a whole half of the story. Truth is, I am a scammer. You come for a Good Omens fanfiction and I break the characters apart, twisting them to the point they might be the same to the very core, but nothing like it on the outside. You have to dive deep to find them.

My God, what am I even doing?

They asked me, "do you choose your words with care, don't you?"

Oh, dear Lord, I am so sorry because maybe people really think I plot all the metaphors, I think properly of all the dialogues, but what if I don't? Most of the time I don't, really. I just put my hands on the keyboard and let them free to go wherever they want. I type whole pages and emerge right after without having the faintest clue of what I wrote. I need to come back multiple times to check if I got what I wanted in the correct way. Hopefully, it does almost all the time. I know where I start and I know where I want to be in the end, the middle of it is pure instinct and emotions. I know how my characters would behave and play them like a TV show in my mind, while describing scenes on the screen.

( There might be some kind of light spoilers from now on. Mind how you go! )

I know I am using Crowley as the raw essence of a damaged mind and heart. He uses crude metaphors, always talks with anger and uses blood and storms in his speech, because he is instinct, he's a tide, he's greed personified and wants everything he could get cause he truly got nothing in his life. He is the passion who can't be contained, he uses art to process his emotions, he uses music to lose himself in something familiar, hoping someone else could help him find his way back home. He uses gardening to grow things because in his life nothing seems to last long. He can't look at tomorrow without fear, but grows things he hopes will last more than him. Life was not good with him, but he wasn't good with his life either. He did nothing, letting time pass without actually building anything, living the days as they come, drowning his pain in wine or between someone else's legs. He knows most of what he is, most of what he's done, is not healthy. But he never really cared before.

And then there is Aziraphale, which apparently is a walking red flag, traumas personified on two working legs, scared of everything hiding outside his door. He got everything. He has money, a big house, books, some people working with him, and is content. So content his heart yells and cries because he's lonely. So content he can't really control his whole life because he is his own antagonist. So content he's not really scared of what hides outside the door, because what's inside is worst. He uses the softest metaphors, he uses his books to tell stories and talk about himself, he can't really speak is mind and talks, talks, talks so much! He wins arguments because he drags his opponents into exhaustion. He talks them to death, using whole paragraphs of elegant, perfectly crafted phrases and quotes he can shield himself with. He's not like Crowley, just getting started on this new channel of communication, no, Aziraphale is well trained. He has thousands of books he can use to get where he wants and still use his experience poorly because he thinks people are just like the books and guess what? That's not true. People are something else.

It's actually funny how I just condensate two parts of me into two different characters.

Crowley holds my outside, and this is why you have his POV for the entire story. You see the world with his distorted, unreliable vision, you see raw desire to be accepted, the need to be truly seen by someone, big pieces of his mind, his dissociations, his fear, his low self esteem, the thousands of radios turned on in his mind, his incapability to let things truly go, is head full of canvases he never finish. And then you see his rage and you're not sure how much that will last. Yeah, that is me. Welcome to myself.

Aziraphale holds my inside. This is why we never get his POV. Too easy, too deep, too much. He is scared. He needs control. He wants and can't get. He hopes and does nothing. He's stuck in his home, with his books, and finds himself at ease there. He thinks he's safe but he's not. He's a living contradiction and at the same time he's not.

God, what was the question again?

Maybe I wrote too much. Maybe this is not enough. All I can say is that there's something really important in this story, and that is Crowley asking Aziraphale to "look at him", 'cause all he wants is to bee seen.

But in the end, what is happening here is you looking at me. And it's strange to get so naked in front of so many strangers. But it's also good and positive to me to be seen, for once.

So, thank you. Really, thank you. 'cause with every chapter you allow me to express myself in a way I never did in 30 years. Thank you so much.

[tonydaddingham]

hey….totally unprompted question not prompted by terrible visions but do you have any tips for making amvs / any suggestions for editing softwares (preferabky on mobile but computer can work too) ? 😁

oh babe ive GOTCHU okay so obligatory "im just a girl that can't escape the brainrot" disclaimer. im not an expert, i do not do this professionally in any capacity, and im sure more seasoned video makers and editors will look at this list and think it's horseshit - and they'd be right!!! but for what it's worth here are the things that help me:

okay so first off, i edit everything (inc music, bc i do Not have the capacity to make edits to a full 4 min song) on my phone, so you've come to the right place - this nifty little app here is what i use.

is it good? as long as you're happy with it not being overly flash, yeah sure. does it get the job done? well id like to think so, as long as you're willing to get a bit creative/think outside the box on occasion. is it free? fuck yeah, as long as you don't want the spanglier functions.

okay so as for creating the vids themselves (very good omens centric, btw):

(here is where i wrote loads of shite but i remembered that you, dear anon, would have to read this and probably just want a simple list but always happy to discuss in more detail just lmk)

(edit: turns out, anon, that i still couldn't keep it to a simple list!!! and for that im very sorry)

obligatory start with: get good quality rips of the show. i didn't do this in the beginning and a lot of my old stuff is uploaded in 720p as a result, whereas now i can upload... decently in 2180p. the longer upload time is worth it. oh, and there is a small aspect ratio difference between s1 and s2, and it's the bane of my fucking life especially when i miss it and it's So Obvious To Me that ive missed it post-upload. don't make my mistakes 💕

right. advice. first, storyboard your vid. even if the song is not particularly relevant to the show/story but has Blorbo Potential™. look at the song you've got, and break it down lyrically (if applicable). what are the words saying? what is the story being told? is it thematically relevant/meta (e.g., RUTH), or is it just so applicable to Them that it's a bit embarrassing (e.g., meatloaf)? or is it neither, and it's just a Vibe (e.g., sushi restaurant)? there have been times where ive had to write out the lyrics physically and make notes on what scenes/bits to put to certain lyrics, in order to not feel overwhelmed with the whole thing... even if i change it later on/it ends up not working out anyway. but yeah take a sec to actually look at your song and work out if you have enough material to tell the story you want to tell in it - ie. not just the chorus/a bit of a verse. (ive fallen into this trap Many a time and have a Lot of abandoned wips floating around as a result)

related to the above, and i can't imagine it will be a problem lol, but being Very Familiar with the source material helps. pay attention to blocking and angles, especially if you want to do a cool/slick transition, or want to group together similar shots for a bit of visual interest and satisfying brain itching (e.g., 00:31 onwards of best shot). keep a track of filler bits, like clicks/hand claps/funny faces/dancing/dramatic head turns, because not only is it sometimes helpful for when you've got a musical interlude, but it can help maintain the tempo. (e.g., beginning of darkness)

ALSO related to the first point, and just a general tip - you don't have to start from the beginning. start, for example, with That Emotional Part where you can Perfectly see a part of the show cut to it. (e.g., cut to the feeling, where i started with the 1941 bullet catch at 1:18-1:27 for the bridge, and then built on it backwards). it helps with motivation too, when you find The Good Bit that you knows others will hate you for 🥰

in general, i recommend to keep the big set pieces (bullet catch, kiss, wall slam, in the beginning, on the wall, bookshop fire) in your back pocket for the Big Emotional, Heart-Swelling points of the song, and build on them from there. if you can, exercise symmetry in your scene choices across the choruses (e.g. dog days), or bookend the vid with the same scene (e.g., bon jovi intro and 1:45); i find it keeps a Theme going and drives up the emotional payoff, and again helps with storyboarding (dog days example: i framed as flashbacks, bon jovi example: i framed it as a flashforward)

i know others do this, and it is Not me criticising it at All because it can be soooo effective, but my personal style tries to avoid mouth movements as much as possible (unless it matches the lyrics, and then i keep it in because it's funny - e.g., "yeah" at 0:39 for bon jovi). so to that end, if you're looking to do the same thing/same style, be mindful of when expressions change/mouths start to move - it can literally be a matter of 0.1s, but be jarring if left in. this does regrettably mean losing a lot of source material (bc. yk. they talk in it, not just make Faces at each other), but i personally try to keep it to a minimum or try to keep any mouth movements out of focus.

now. i love a short cut. i go mad for a short cut. i go berserk for fast, sharp scene changes, they're like crack to me. prefer them to using huge stretches of clips. but!!! when actually editing (especially with the above app that whilst great, is not very good on refresh rate/buffering), id recommend exporting your video periodically or after doing a particularly choppy/fast bit, and Checking if it works/it's in time with the music. rewatch it 5, 10 times to make sure. you will constantly have to adjust stuff if you're creating the vid out of sync, unfortunately, but it will honestly help so much. it'll just give you a "ah yes i have 10 fast cuts there, and sure it only makes up for around 5 secs of actual screen time, but it's perfectly in sync and very satisfying, good job me" feeling, which is awesome. if you have issues with timing, consider downloading an overlaying metronome track in the bpm you need, and match it to that. (that saved in me in more of my vids than i care to count)

that being said, don't use short cuts if it doesn't suit the song!!!💕 or at least try to use a mix of them to give the vid some pacing. i like a pop or rock song, me, so i naturally tend to go for higher bpm songs (rip) anyway, but i try to get some longer cuts in there (especially around the intro/bridge) to give the viewer some breathing room (e.g., 0.00-0.44 for hero)

biggest advice tho: just have fun with it. create what You want to watch. do you listen to a song and think GOD THAT SCENE WOULD BE SO GOOD HERE??? then DO IT!!!💕 it doesn't have to slick or flash or overly clever in the transitions or effects, if you don't necessarily want it to be. don't get me wrong, they can look bloody spectacular - some of my favourite vids are really polished and impressive!!! but some of my faves are technically really basic, but they Understand the material and they Understand storytelling. equally some very kind people have told me that mine are some of their favourites (still makes me grin, months later!!!) and my transitions/effects are rudimentary at best. people will see your Vision because it is a Great Vision and will love your work regardless of the quality. you will improve with time, you will recycle bits and use them in new ways, you will learn skills and shortcuts that you will do better the next time. please pls plssss just create and have fun with it, god knows we need it in the world rn 💖

if there's anything else that i can answer or help with, anon, pls let me know!!! good luck my darling!!!💕

[callmearcturus]

voice test: PT Benji AU

back when this AU was simpler (i.e. three days ago) I wrote a fast voice check for it. now the outline has, uh, evolved so this snippet might not be in the final product, but here.

this was directly inspired by that gifset I just reblogged.

It was a cool day in December, and the next session on Benjamin Dunn's calendar was tastefully redacted.

These appointments showed up on his digital calendar as blank blocks. No name, no information, just a colored square stretched out, taking up space and ensuring no one else booked him for the slot.

This was, in Benji's opinion, really stupid. These blank appointments only meant one thing; an agent of the Impossible Mission Force was on their way to see him. He understood that the IMF didn't legally exist in any way, so signs of its presence were always obscured. But since no one else used the same tactic on his calendar, it meant the implications were pretty damned obvious once you knew what they meant.

Sighing, Benji worked on finishing his notes on the rehab session he'd just completed.

There was a single knock at his door before it opened. "You're ten minutes early," Benji said, fingers still moving at decent 60 WPM clip as he summarized his last appointment.

"What, you haven't been waiting on bated breath for me? I'm hurt, Benji," Ethan Hunt said, shutting and locking the door behind him as he arrived.

"You're always hurt, Mr. Hunt," Benji pointed out, leaning to look around the monitor of his computer, taking in a cursory preview of what bullshit Ethan had put himself through this time. It had been almost six months since Ethan's last appointment, which was ample time for him to get into an impressive amount of trouble.

Also, point of fact: Ethan was never early to his appointments. This was an incident that defied precedent and thus made Benji nervous.

But at a glance, Ethan seemed fine, his hands in his jacket pockets, his head moving and turning with ease as he looked over Benji's office.

"Hey, you have initials on your name plate," Ethan said, picking up the little bronze stand at the corner of Benji's desk. "Did you wrap up your doctorate? Am I finally talking to the esteemed Doctor Benjamin Dunn?" He lifted his eyes to Benji's and grinned.

"I'm afraid so," Benji said sincerely. "Three more years of my life just thrown on the pyre of higher education."

"Congratulations. Sorry I missed the commencement."

"So did I, I was booked that afternoon." With a rueful shake of his head. "Thank you, really. But you're still early, so have a seat and I'll be over to poke at you in a bit."

As he continued to type, Benji slowly realized that Ethan didn't want to sit. He hovered around the sofa, leaning in to examine some of the playbills Benji had framed on his bookcase, killing time before finally dropping onto a cushion.

The moment he did, it was a mistake; Ethan pressed his fist down against the seat, pushing, his body moving. A long curve bent his spine, his head tipping over the back of the sofa, his tailbone rising right off the seat. "Christ," he muttered, teeth grit. Once he was suspended like that, a javelin's arch from his neck to his knees, he stopped, tensed, body humming.

Benji was on his feet in an instant, circling his desk and going to Ethan, taking hold of his other hand and hooking fingers under Ethan's belt. "For god's sake, Ethan, don't hurt yourself." With both anchors in hand, Benji pulled, helping Ethan back to his feet.

Steadying himself, Ethan gripped Benji's forearm. "Shit, I didn't expect it to hurt that much. I've been keeping mobile."

"I can see that," Benji said, waiting patiently for Ethan to relocate his footing. "What was it this time?"

"Had to climb a sheer wall, thirty foot."

"Ethan…"

"That was the easy part, actually. Falling down the other side, that's what got me. Landed awkwardly."

Benji wasn't sure there was a good way to land from a thirty foot drop. Guiding Ethan along, he drew him over to the table. "Can you lay on your back?"

"Probably," Ethan said, with enough uncertainty Benji understood why he'd arrived so early to his appointment. Helping him up, Benji untied and removed Ethan's shoes, bending his knees so his feet were planted, his legs forming shallow mountain peaks.

"I'm going to flip on the heating element and you're going to wait for me to finish up my notes," Benji prescribed firmly. "Then we'll see about what the hell you've done to your sciatica this time."

"Can't I have it removed at this point?" Ethan asked, breathing deep and even in a way that was more practiced than natural.

"Not how that works," Benji said. Lingering, he rested his palm on Ethan's forearm, watching the shape of his body, looking for any more signs of acute pain.

Rolling his head to the side, looking up at Benji, Ethan said, "I'm good. You can finish your notes, Dr. Dunn."

"Oh, now I get an honorific," Benji groused. "A simulacrum of respect."

"Nothing simulated about it, Benji," Ethan said a touching amount of sincerity. 

Which was very kind, but did not last long. In fact, it landed exactly as long as it took for the session to start, when Benji folded Ethan's leg up to his chest. 

Ethan cursed a blue streak.

"I have no idea," he ground out, word by word, "why I come here year after year. I'd been in barfights that don't beat me up like you."

Rolling his eyes, Benji boldly hooked Ethan's leg over his shoulder and patted his stomach. "Breathe."

He inhaled. Exhaled. "Ow."

"I don't know, Agent Hunt," Benji said, voice like vanilla, sweet and mild as he gave Ethan an approving pat. "This always happens, and yet you show up ten minutes early like a pain in the ass."

"I'm being a good patient," Ethan countered. 

Benji released Ethan's leg, guiding it flat with firm hands as he watched for when the pain kicked in. As soon as the muscle corded, tensed, he helped brace it. "I don't know who's been fibbing to you, but you haven't been a good patient a single day of your life."

[burning-sol]

you realise the vast majority of the userbase use mobile so it doesn't matter if shinigami eyes is free or not and you don't need to condescendingly point it out right? no one is ever intentionally reblogging from a bad source. also just saying they're marked red is enough you don't need to provide upsetting proof of their transmisogyny.

I know people can't see shinigami eyes on mobile, that's why I made the effort to tell someone else they reblogged from a transphobe <- I'm trying to help my community stay safe by using the resources I have.

If you're on mobile I wasn't directing the comment at you, I was directing it at other people who use a computer. I wasn't trying to be condescending, I was trying to share a resource because that's how information spreads (note I only found out about the add-on because *I* saw someone post about it ages ago. i'm not gonna skip a chance to be that person for someone else, especially when it comes to keeping other trans ppl safe).

Yes, I do actually have to include proof. I don't unquestioningly trust the add-on and I don't want others to either. I know it's upsetting but I would rather be thorough than send a half-assed "this person is marked red so they're bad :(" and the person respond "?? where's your proof" <- the process is just smoother this way.

Hey anon. I'm assuming you're not the person I sent the ask to. Please don't speak on others behalf when the person literally responded, "naurrrr 😞😞 thank u" because like as far as I'm aware xe wasn't offended by me or took it personally. Like sure, I was to the point, but it's 2am (I wrote this in the image) and I didn't think she would be hurt since xe has likely seen me in passing (we occupy similar online spaces, we're both jrwi bloggers) and people who know me know I'm really really really not here to burn people at the stake for honest mistakes or even not so honest mistakes.

Thanks. Sorry if this sounds overly aggressive, it's 2am.

[aceoflanterns]

Ok so the in the shortest way I can here is what happened (sorry for responding so late I actually responded a while ago but I’m pretty sure that didn’t send so I have to write this again :,)

So there is this island that some people are trapped on. The island is run by “the federation” and they are evil and they do t want the players to leave, we don’t know why

So they decide that the best way to make the players stay is to give them kids that they need to take care of , to be more exact they are eggs (that are played by real people btw they are not some AI like I thought for a while)

The important egg for this story is Juanaflipp the egg of Charlie Slimecicle and elmariana

Flippa died at 11 days old

It destroyed everyone but especially Slime, he when crazy when Flippa dies

He almost killed the other eggs out of grief, he transformed in an egg bc of the immense grief, so yeah he was not doing great

But after a lot of time and self reflection, he was making baby steps towards recovery

The the birthday stream happened

(Some context, on the server there are this monsters called the code monsters that are played by admins and the whole purpose of these guys seem to be killing the eggs. They can also shape shift to look like the eggs)

Most of the stream is goofy and lighthearted but then there are the last 15 minutes

Slime goes back home and he finds a book that said this

Then a path of torches appeared that lead him to a big underground cave

In the came there is this house and in the house she finds her

Juanaflippa

His baby

His daughter

His everything is here, alive, whit him

She starts placing signs that say things like “I missed you dad” and “happy birthday” in the same broken speech as the one on the book

Slime is understandably super confused but he spend care. All that is important is that he is whit his daughter

The Flippa says that “it’s dangerous for me out there” and “I’ll see you soon” then she runs off

Slime runs after her frantically screaming for her to come back, that he will do anything she says, that he will keep her safe, that she will kill anyone that comes close to her. He begged her not to leave him again but Flippa doesn’t stop running and Slime loses her

He is left crying, alone again

But before the stream ends he promises that he will satay here as long as it takes and that he will make flippa feel save again, no matter the cost

End strea

We, as viewers, know about the code monster and how it can mimic eggs but slime doesn’t. He fully beloved that his baby is back and he will do anything for her, which probably includes killing the other eggs (he already almost did that)

Anyway, I highly recommend watching the last 15 minutes of the stream bc Charlie Slimecicle is an amazing actor and the pain and desperation in his voice is incredible. I’m on mobile so idk how to share the link but just look up Slimecicle on twich and it’s the most recent stream, or you can look up Slimecicle vods on YouTube and watch it there when it gets uploaded

Sorry for any mistakes I made and for responding so late, hope that what I wrote makes sense. How you have a good rest of your day :]]]

damn man that’s A Lot 😭😭😭 listen i just had no idea what was going on in the qsmp from like . early june onwards . so i appreciate the update :]] (and i shall check out the stream because charlie slimesicle is an insane actor and it’s unfair to us all) thank you!!!!

[xthescarletbitch]

I posted 2,348 times in 2022

That's 2,348 more posts than 2021!

296 posts created (13%)

2,052 posts reblogged (87%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@miss-cry-baby

@milfreya

@mrsdanirojas

@residenteepy

@no-onewaslistening

I tagged 1,071 of my posts in 2022

#far cry 6 - 111 posts

#fc6 - 97 posts

#kassandra my love - 82 posts

#dani rojas - 77 posts

#far cry 6 spoilers - 71 posts

#dani rojas fc6 - 58 posts

#fc6 spoilers - 57 posts

#dani rojas far cry 6 - 56 posts

#kassandra - 56 posts

#fc6 dani rojas - 56 posts

Longest Tag: 118 characters

#i have a bad habit of thinking that i am undeserving of anything good due to my own fucked up feelings about myself 💗

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

kassandra blurb ✨

warnings: smut, so minors DO NOT INTERACT

authors note: this was literally a random thing i wrote while playing odyssey. it is not proofread at all, so there are probably some mistakes. enjoy the evidence of my thirst.

also; mobile text layout. i am so sorry! ♡

“Please Kass,” you pleaded. “It’s too much!”

She gripped your hips harder than you gripped the silken sheets. The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping and her heavy breathing, as well as breathy moans you couldn’t keep contained.

“Shhh… you’re doing great, my love.” She leaned down to whisper in your ear. She threw her hand down upon your bare asscheek, prompting a tiny scream from you, as she continued to bury her strap deep inside of you. You let out a small cry as you buried your face in the pillow in front of you, Kassandra still holding your hips up. She continued to pound into you as you felt your legs grow weaker.

Kassandra’s thrusts became slower, but rougher. She would draw her strap out of you, only to slam it back in. She grabbed your breasts and held your back against her chest as a way to angle herself better in fucking you. She planted kisses on your neck as you threw your head back and closed your eyes. You felt the familiar feeling in your stomach again as you clenched around her. She kept kissing your neck and urged you on. She whispered into your ear once more. “Go on, my love. Cum for me.”

She pounded into you quicker, making you moan louder. Soon, you felt the knot in your stomach break and you came all over her strap. She continued to fuck you through your orgasm, making you feel like you were walking on clouds. You turned your neck to face her and she smiled at you, planting a kiss on your lips. “You did so good for me, love.”

See the full post

215 notes - Posted May 27, 2022

#4

you deserve to find somebody who thinks about you as much as i think about buff women

232 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

#3

grounding | sevika x reader

- warnings: smut; reader has a 🐱

♡ MDNI ♡

See the full post

577 notes - Posted May 2, 2022

#2

my toxic trait is thinking that i can pull someone hot like sevika when i can’t even pull myself out of bed

581 notes - Posted April 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

ngl i think about being topped by fictional buff women at least a million times a day 😰

✨ manifest ✨

888 notes - Posted April 16, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[mueritos]

hi sorry can u explain to me the d slur thing? /gen like i don’t understand why it’s bad for the person to callout a nonlesbian to say the slur -🧜🏽

To be honest Im not too keen on the current idea thay reclaiming queer slurs are only meant for specific sub groups within the community. For the most part, these slurs have been weaponized against most LGBTQIA folks regardless of their identity (because for the most part, bigots can only call us generalized slurs since they are awful at clocking us, but now not so much). This is why we get issues when it comes to reclaiming certain slurs, like the F slur. While historically used against gay men, saying that it can ONLY be reclaimed by gay men doesnt sit well with me since the slur has been used against the ENTIRE community. Same with the d slur, while it has historically been used against lesbian women, there are instances of it being used againsg other LGBTQIA folks (tho prolly not to the same extent as the f slur).

A note i want to make is that queer slurs are VERY different from racial slurs in terma of reclamation. Racial slurs and queer slurs should only be reclaimed by their specific community, but we do not see the same level of reclamation gatekeeping in racial slurs than queer slurs because if youre BIPOC, theres no doubt that you have a historical connection to those slurs. But if your queer, your specific identity shapes your experience with the world, so theres a chance you may even have been exposed ro certain words or slurs, maybe not even have any weaponized against you.

That being said, I appreciate the take of “if it has been used against you to marginalize your marginalized status, you are free to reclaim it” in the context of reclaiming queer slurs. This does not mean that reclaiming a slur means it is not part of your initial vocabulary, no, it may just mean that you recognize the power of the word that you reclaimed as now your own. Also, certain slurs have already BEEN reclaimed, and therefore it is not my place to use another word for a person who wishes to be called by it. If a lesbian wants to be called the d word and is proud of it, I will refer to them as such because I recognize the power that word brings them. Keep in mind that not all queers are young, and many elder gays use “slurs” and old terms to decribe themselves, like “transexual” or “dyke” or “transvestite”.

We also need to understand the context of these words. When we call each other these slurs when around each other as a community (and it has been established that these words are okay to use for each other), they are either reclaimed or simply words, because you could argue that many of us never saw the words as anything negative in the first place, regardless of its misuse. In this context, these words bring power and community. But if someone is weaponizing that word to target a queer persons marginalized status, then that is being used as a slur. Therefore I dont think it’s appropriate to call it out within the community unless specific parties are uncomfortable with it and we DO see it as intercommunity marginialization (like maybe a lesbian that hates gay men?? i know its weird but theres a lot of hate even within the community). And yes, it is completely valid to feel uncomfortable around certain words and their use, but have a conversation about it if you can first before trying to shut down its use in someone (unless, like mentioned before, the person is literally bigoted).

I think its more meaningful to ask why certain queer people use certain words instead of telling them to stop. We need to understand that decades ago, it didnt matter whether it came out of a butch or a gay’s mouth, what mattered is that is brought community. This language discourse is a clear indicator of the lack of queer historical knowledge within contemporary queer society. I highly encourage yall to look into notable queer activists, and if youd like to start to understand the historical power “dyke” brought to the community, search up the “Gays for Dykes” movement.

This was very brief but I hope that answerwd ur question and im open to conversation about this topic! Be aware that I only have the experience of a nonbinary gay transmasc whos a white latino and all of these factors affect my view on this. Either way, I hope it helped!

[dvnities]

cyber gremlin x emo gremlin for @celestiel​ pt 1

❛   a shot of tequila, ginger beer, lime juice, and most importantly,   ❜   v slides the cocktail across the table,   plopping down across from sasuke,   ❛   a splash of love. on me.   ❜   the creation of a friend’s,   who was gone too soon.     she hoped now it might mean the start of a new friendship,   but this guy was a tough crowd.   v had met all kinds of people in night city,     but people there loved the sound of their own voice.   seemed like sasuke barely knew how to speak.   didn’t really care much about that,   the kid had skill,   that was all that mattered.

she lifts up her own drink   ( tequila old fashioned with a splash of beer and chili garnish )   clinking it against his glass that sits still on the table,   ❛   to breaking records.   ❜   so much for deadlock prison being inescapable.   wasn’t the easiest job she’d ever done but she’d been through worse.   ❛   if that’s too complex for you i’ll go get you a beer.   ❜   v throws back her drink,   letting out a refreshed sigh and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand,   ❛   so, i gotta know,   what’s your deal ?   didn’t want cash,   but you’re out here doin this crazy ass job.   so you’re either rich or insane.   or both.   ❜

[adhdbisexualramblings]

(My next few posts are going to be about my Lost And Found AU)

I have so many things (stories or series) about Octavian becoming a better person that it’s gotten to a certain point that I can’t name…

Anyways these are the stories:

Lost And Found AU: around 4-5 stories in its entirety. Follows our less-then-beloved augur through 2 years of his life. Original characters galore (about 2 of them) and angst for days (Octavian meets a cute boy and then he dies, so, yeah there’s that). You know how people change through trauma?

Yeah.

I was not kind to him this time around.

New Home AU: “Octavian gets kicked out of Camp Jupiter for a crime he probably didn’t commit…” Percy agreed to take him in until he can make a living for himself. Sally is a very kind person and shows the teen some love and care. Percy is grudging about having him there, but eventually warms up as well. This goes from somewhere after Son Of Neptune to Trials Of Apollo and isn’t fully fledged out yet. There’s some misinterpreted romance and gay panic

Family Sticks Together AU (not sure about the name yet): Basically an Undertale crossover (cuz I was in the fandom for a while. Still am, actually). Octavian (maybe after his death, maybe not) falls into the underground and meets Flowey the flower. One would assume that he would adopt the ideology of “kill or be killed”, but then Toriel comes along. She treats him kindly (literally, just give him some respect and then he won’t hate you) and he is instantly drawn to her. He finds that he doesn’t want to leave, so he doesn't. A few weeks after Toriel finds him (he started calling her “mom”), she finds another human: a sickly, half-dead demigod who we may or may not know*. The three, along with Flowey, become a long-term family. That’s it. Nothing else happens.

*The child was going to be Nico as a 12-year-old, but I figured that would be a bit odd. So I’m either sticking with Nico or going with someone else. Honestly I’ll probably stick with Nico, just because

Thanks for coming to my TED talk