#and any noise ever no matter where I am scares me

[bubmyg]

the laken riley case is frustrating me to ends i can’t even describe bc at its core it’s the perfect example of how terrifying it is to be a woman. like she did everything right and she STILL wasn’t safe!!! to just go on a run!!!!!! but you’ve got degenerate ass predatory conservative men using it as a gateway to be racist as fuck and push through their immigration policy. when at the core of it they don’t and never will actually care abt women. like she just wanted to go for a run. she just wanted to go for a run!!!!!!!!

[satellite-evans]

just rain

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando claims his first win of the season in a rain-soaked Melbourne Grand Prix with a gentle reminder of his son.

Word count: 4k+

Warnings: fluff, anxiety

A/N:

picture credits @pucksandpitlanes <3

AHHHHHH LANDO WON IM SO HAPPY FOR HIM!!!! I couldn't watch bc of time zones but when is saw it in the morning I was soooo 🥹🥹🥹

also Alex being higher than the ferraris was NOT on my bingo card lol but im super excited for him too🤎

I overdramatized the race a bit and it is not 100 % accurate 😅

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The sky was breaking open.

What had been a perfect, cloudless Saturday — where everything had felt possible — was now a roaring mess of water and wind.

The same track that had held his first pole position of the season now looked like a stranger.

Lando stood by his car, helmet tucked under his arm, rain sliding off his race suit in steady streams, like the sky itself was crying for him.

He was trying — really trying — to get his head straight.

But it was hard.

Hard when the weight of every near-miss, every mistake, every podium that wasn’t a win pressed on his shoulders.

Hard when the image of Max in São Paulo, slicing through the rain like it wasn’t even there, looped in his mind, taunting him.

This was supposed to be his day.

Pole was supposed to mean something.

But now, all he could think about was how easily rain could take that away.

What if I mess it up? What if I lose everything? What if-

“Daddy?”

The small voice broke through the storm in his head like sunshine through clouds.

He turned.

There was Noah — rain dripping from the ends of his jacket, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes wide and honest and full of something Lando had lost in the last few hours: belief.

You hovered just behind him, watching quietly, giving them space.

Lando crouched down, resting his arms on his knees to meet Noah at eye level.

“Hey, buddy,” he said softly, though his throat felt tight. "You okay out here in the rain?"

Noah frowned, taking a step closer until he was right up in Lando’s space, hands reaching to tug gently at Lando’s suit.

“I am okay, but why are you not okay, Daddy?” he asked, tilting his head. "Aren’t you gonna win? You said you were gonna win."

Lando let out a breath, a shaky laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"I know, mate. I… I wanna win." His voice cracked at the end.

Noah blinked up at him, unbothered by the rain hitting his face. "Then why are you sad?"

Lando hesitated. What could he even say? Because sometimes winning feels impossible? Because I don’t know if I’m good enough? Because I'm scared?

Instead, he shrugged, offering a small, forced smile.

“It’s raining a lot,” he finally said, as if that explained the weight in his chest.

But Noah just gave him a look — the same look Lando had given you a thousand times when he thought you were worrying too much.

“It’s just rain, Daddy," Noah said matter-of-factly. "We like rain.”

Lando blinked, caught off guard.

"You always chase me in the rain," Noah continued, smiling now, that childhood certainty glowing in his eyes. "You say it makes you run faster. And you always catch me, even if I’m the fastest runner ever."

A soft laugh broke from Lando's lips, something warmer, something real.

"And Mommy always says we’ll get sick but you don’t care," Noah went on, as if this were the most important fact in the world.

"You say, 'It’s just rain, Noah. Rain makes us faster.’”

Lando’s throat tightened.

For a second, he couldn't speak.

Because in that moment, through all the noise and pressure and fear, his son had reminded him of something he’d forgotten:

Who he was.

Not just a driver. Not just a number on a screen.

But Noah’s dad. Your partner. Someone who could be brave when it mattered.

Lando reached out and pulled Noah into a hug, pressing his face into the crook of his tiny shoulder, breathing in the rain and the smell of his son — like grass and soap and home.

"You're right, little man," he whispered, voice thick. "It's just rain."

He pulled back, brushing wet curls from Noah’s face.

"And you think I'm faster than everyone, huh?"

Noah grinned, eyes lighting up. "You’re faster than everyone, Daddy! Even if it's raining forever!"

Lando let out a real laugh this time, warmth blooming in his chest.

He looked up to find you, standing there with your arms wrapped around yourself for warmth, but smiling, tears quietly mixing with the rain on your cheeks.

Their eyes locked for a moment, and you gave him a nod — small, but enough to say we believe in you.

Lando stood, keeping Noah’s little hand in his, squeezing gently.

“Okay, buddy. I’m gonna win that trophy for you.”

“Yay!” Noah beamed. “But you can keep it for your shelf... if you want.”

Lando chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Noah’s head.

“No, I think it belongs in your room.”

Noah’s smile widened, his eyes sparkling with pride, as though his father had just promised to conquer the world for him. In that moment, the rain didn’t feel so heavy. The doubts that had plagued Lando’s mind were still there, but the weight of them didn’t seem quite as unbearable with Noah at his side.

And you — your smile, your quiet support — made the world seem possible again.

As they walked toward the pit lane, Lando felt a shift inside of him. The rain wasn’t a burden anymore. It was a challenge. A reminder that no matter how many times life tried to knock him down, he could always get back up. Just like he always did when Noah ran faster than him, laughing, his tiny feet splashing through puddles.

Lando squeezed his son’s hand tighter.

"Let’s show ‘em what we’ve got, buddy."

With a nod from Noah and a final glance at you, Lando felt the familiar rush of determination surge through him.

This wasn’t just about the race anymore.

It was about being the man he promised to be — not just for himself, but for the ones who believed in him.

The Australian Grand Prix was shaping up to be a classic.

As the cars lined up on the grid in Melbourne, the drizzle had kept the track damp, just enough to keep the tire choices uncertain. It wasn’t the heavy rain that everyone had feared, but it was far from perfect racing conditions. Still, Lando sat in P1, his hands firmly gripping the wheel, his focus set on one thing: keeping that lead.

The McLaren car was well-suited to the conditions, and Lando had a good start. The lights went out, and he got off the line clean, his heart racing in sync with the growl of the engine as he took off into Turn 1. He held his ground, blocking Max, who was gunning for the lead, while Oscar — his teammate and the home hero — was hot on his heels in P3.

The track was slick, but Lando’s experience in these tricky conditions helped him build an early gap. His McLaren was light and agile, its handling sharp as he darted through the twists of the Melbourne layout. Verstappen, however, wasn’t far behind. The Red Bull driver was a constant shadow, ready to pounce at the slightest mistake.

By the first pit window, the rain had picked up a bit more, turning the track into a quagmire of uncertainty. Tire choices were a gamble — intermediate tires or full wets? The crew had to decide quickly, and they were calling for intermediates as the rain began to settle. Lando glanced nervously at the sky but held his ground. “Let’s stay out a bit longer,” he told his team, his voice steady but with a hint of doubt. Don’t get greedy, just don’t make a mistake.

Max pitted early, pushing for the full wets as he believed the track was getting too slick for anything else. He rejoined the circuit behind Lando, but it was clear he was closing the gap, his tires cutting through the water more effectively than Lando’s.

Just as the McLaren pit crew started to signal for a pit stop — the conditions changing rapidly — the first Safety Car period was called. A rookie crashed heavily into the barriers, bringing the race to a halt. Lando’s heart raced again as he followed the Safety Car. Was this a blessing or a curse? The rain had intensified even further, and the conditions were treacherous. Oscar, who had been showing great pace, was caught out in the slippery conditions, skidding onto the grass, and although he tried to recover, he struggled to get back on track in time. He was forced to return to the pits, ultimately falling back to P13.

Now it felt like a battle between Lando, Max, and the rest of the pack. But just as they prepared to go racing again, the rain poured down harder, the track quickly becoming a slippery mess. It was a delicate balance for Lando, who was managing the lead with grit and skill but was well aware that Max was waiting to pounce.

The green flag waved again, and the cars shot back out into the mix, Lando still holding off the charging Verstappen.

Lap after lap, Lando danced on the edge of control. Every corner was a fight, every moment a test of his patience and skill. The McLaren’s rear end was constantly sliding out, but Lando somehow kept it in line. He could feel Verstappen breathing down his neck, waiting for him to make a mistake — and then, it came.

The rain intensified in a sudden downpour, and the track became a slick, unpredictable nightmare. The tires couldn’t keep up, and the grip was nonexistent. As Lando tried to brake for Turn 4, his tires locked up, and he was forced to take a detour through the gravel, his heart nearly stopping as he fought to stay on the track. He got back on just in time to gain his way back to P1.

Lando was far from done.

He set his sights forward, telling himself to focus — just focus. The rain was lashing down, but with each lap, Lando found his rhythm again, using the high-speed corners to his advantage, keeping the McLaren planted while others struggled.

A second Safety Car came out as Jack Doohan spun into the gravel, and just as quickly, the race was halted once again. The field bunched up, and Lando’s mind raced. He could feel the pressure of it all — a season opener, a potential win slipping through his fingers as Verstappen loomed behind him.

And then, when it seemed like he was about to lose his edge, Lando had a moment of clarity. He’d thought about Noah — his little boy, his voice in his head, telling him, "You’re faster than everyone, Daddy."

Lando could feel his son’s words ignite a fire inside him. He wasn’t racing to prove anything to anyone else, but to show Noah, to show himself, that no storm, no matter how wild, could stop him.

When the Safety Car came in again, Lando took a deep breath. The track was as slippery as ever, but the fight wasn’t over.

Lando’s heart was hammering. He was in the lead, and with the final few corners in sight, he pushed his car to the edge. The track had dried just enough, but the pressure on him was unbearable. He took a deep breath and crossed the line with the loudest, most cathartic roar of his life.

Lando Norris had done it. He had won.

P1.

He couldn’t believe it.

The rain had made this race a battle of attrition, and as he eased into the cooldown lap, he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

He slowly lifted his hand to the radio and spoke to his team, his voice shaky with emotion.

“Oooph! Little bit of pressure, well done boys. Beautifully handled. Excuted to the second. One second later and we were done so well done everyone. Congrats, amazing way to start the year. Thank you so much. This one was for you, Noah.”

The world exploded in cheers as the McLaren pit crew erupted, their joy a mix of disbelief and ecstasy. But through the noise, Lando only had one thing on his mind: you and Noah.

He couldn’t wait to share this with his little boy and with the love of his life.

Lando brought the car back to the pit lane. He could hear the roar of the crowd, the fans cheering from the stands, even as the noise inside his helmet began to fade. He blinked, trying to keep his focus, but his hands were still shaking slightly from the adrenaline. His chest felt tight, like he was trying to contain all the emotions swirling inside him — relief, pride, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

He had done it.

He had won. P1.

As the car coasted into the pit box, the team was already waiting. The McLaren crew flooded around him, clapping and shouting, their faces beaming with joy. But Lando barely registered any of it. His eyes were scanning the crowd, searching for the two faces that meant the most to him — you and Noah.

The cheering around him felt distant, almost muted, as if it wasn’t real. But seeing you, standing by the barriers, your eyes wide with emotion, was like a splash of cold water. The world around him snapped back into focus. He could see Noah next to you, bouncing up and down, his small face lit up with excitement.

Lando’s heart swelled.

He quickly removed his helmet, his wet hair clinging to his forehead, and climbed out of the car. He could feel the weight of his win, but in that moment, it felt lighter. He was overwhelmed by how much this meant to him. It wasn’t just the victory, it was that he had made it — for himself, for you, and for Noah.

Before the team even had a chance to celebrate properly, he was walking toward you.

“Daddy! You did it!” Noah cried out, his voice high-pitched with excitement. Lando's eyes softened, and he dropped to one knee, his arms open wide.

Noah ran straight into his arms, as Lando hugged him tight, holding him close like he had been waiting for this moment for a lifetime. The rain still fell lightly, but it didn’t matter. All the chaos of the race, the uncertainty, the fear — it was gone.

“I did it, buddy,” Lando whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “We did it.”

“You’re the fastest, Daddy!” Noah exclaimed, his small hands grabbing onto Lando’s race suit. “I knew you were!”

Lando chuckled, pulling back just enough to look at his son. “You knew, huh? You were right all along.”

Noah nodded vigorously, his smile as wide as it could go. “You told me you were faster than everyone. And you are!”

Lando’s chest tightened at his words. He had said it to Noah so many times, almost as a promise, a reassurance that no matter what, he could always come out on top. He had made sure to tell Noah that on the tough days, on the days where it felt like nothing was going right, but now it was reality.

And it was because of you and Noah that he had found the strength to keep pushing.

Lando stood up, holding Noah in his arms as he walked toward you. The world seemed to slow as his gaze locked with yours.

You were smiling, but there was something else there — something that said “I knew you could do it”. You were just as emotional as he was. Your eyes glistened with pride, but there was a tenderness in your expression that made him feel like he was home.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Lando’s voice was rough with emotion as he reached out for your hand.

You nodded, your hand fitting perfectly into his. “I never doubted you for a second.”

He leaned in, his eyes soft as he looked at you — the weight of the moment hanging in the air. Without thinking, he pulled you into him, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was full of emotion. It was gentle at first, a quiet acknowledgment of everything he had been holding inside.

For a moment, time seemed to slow, and Lando could feel the joy and relief in that single kiss. It wasn’t just the victory he was celebrating, but the shared understanding between the two of you — the quiet support, the unwavering belief, the love.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours for a beat longer, as if he didn’t want to let the moment slip away. "I couldn't have done it without you," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

Noah squirmed in Lando’s arms, eager to get down and join the celebrations. Lando carefully set him down, and Noah immediately ran off toward the McLaren crew, who were cheering and clapping for the win.

As Noah ran off, Lando turned to you, the full weight of the victory finally sinking in.

“I didn’t think it was going to happen, not with the rain, not with Max so close,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “I almost lost it.”

You smiled softly, brushing a damp strand of hair out of his face. “But you didn’t. You held it together, even when it was tough.”

Lando nodded, his heart full. “I had to. For you, for Noah. I couldn’t let this slip away.”

“You didn’t. And look at you now.” You cupped his face gently, your thumbs brushing over his wet skin. “You’re amazing, Lando.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the quiet moment before the world around him started to roar again. But it didn’t matter. He had done it.

The sound of the crowd cheering filled the air, and Lando turned back to watch his team. His crew was celebrating with Noah in the center, lifting him up in excitement. It wasn’t just his victory, it was theirs too. They had all worked for this moment, and Lando could feel the bond between him and his team, his family, stronger than ever.

As the team ushered him toward the podium for the celebrations, he couldn’t stop smiling. His eyes sought yours one more time, and in that glance, everything was clear. This was just the beginning.

As the excitement of the podium celebrations slowly faded, the atmosphere began to settle. The noise of the crowd dimmed as the McLaren team gathered to wind down, still congratulating Lando for his incredible win. It was time for the world to return to normal — at least for a little while.

The rain had stopped during the post-race celebrations, but the sky had once again darkened, and soon enough, the first raindrops began to fall, soft and steady, like a quiet whisper.

Lando was supposed to be getting ready for the press conferences, and Noah had been escorted back to the team’s area, his energy barely contained after all the excitement. But as the minutes ticked by, you found yourself standing near the pit lane, looking around, trying to spot them — Lando and Noah.

They had been with you just moments ago, but now, there was no sign of either of them. You checked the garage. No luck. You headed toward the pit, but nothing. The sound of the rain grew louder, and you could feel the cool droplets on your skin, the familiar scent of wet pavement filling the air.

As you were about to turn back toward the team area, you heard a familiar laugh.

You looked up. There they were.

Lando and Noah were standing near one of the back entrances to the track, the two of them laughing and completely drenched. Lando’s jacket was already soaked, but he didn’t seem to mind. Noah, in his little race suit, was jumping up and down, splashing in the growing puddles, his face glowing with pure joy.

Lando had both arms raised, pretending to be a goalkeeper as he blocked Noah’s wild attempts to splash him with water. They were in their own little world — no race, no press conferences, no podiums, just the rain and the playful chaos of it all.

And for a moment, it felt like everything had slowed down again, just like it had on the track.

You smiled to yourself, watching them. The rain didn’t bother them; if anything, it seemed to make the moment even more special. You could hear Noah shout over the rain, his voice filled with glee, “Come on, Mommy! It’s just rain! You can do it too!”

Lando caught sight of you, his eyes lighting up with mischief. He shrugged with a grin, as if to say it’s just rain, no big deal.

Noah ran toward you, water splashing with every step. “Mommy, come play!” He giggled, his face streaked with joy and raindrops. “It’s fun! Daddy says it’s just rain!”

Lando was right behind him, shaking his head in mock exasperation but his smile betraying the playfulness in his voice. “Come on, babe, it’s just a bit of water. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You could see the way Noah looked up at you with those wide, hopeful eyes. You couldn’t say no.

With a sigh, you gave in. “Fine, fine.”

You stepped forward, and in a moment of complete surrender, you joined them, letting the rain soak through your clothes as you took a running leap into the nearest puddle with Noah. The splash was enormous, and Noah shrieked with delight, running off to jump in the next puddle.

Lando joined you, laughing, as the three of you danced and played under the darkening sky, the rain falling harder now but somehow feeling like the perfect way to celebrate the day.

For that fleeting moment, there was no world beyond the sound of Noah’s laughter, the rain crashing down, and Lando’s teasing calls as he splashed you and Noah. The storm had come back, but instead of being a nuisance, it was the backdrop to a perfect family moment.

“Look at us,” Lando said between laughs, his hair soaked and his face flushed with happiness. “We’re all drenched and I couldn’t be happier.”

You caught Noah as he tried to leap into a particularly big puddle, lifting him up and holding him close. His wet hair clung to his forehead, but his smile never faded.

“This is the best thing ever!” Noah giggled, kicking his feet playfully.

“You sure know how to make a rainy day perfect, don’t you, bud?” Lando said, holding you close as you both watched your son’s joyful antics.

“Just rain,” you said softly, your gaze meeting Lando’s. The chaos of the day had faded into the background. What mattered now was here — this moment, with Lando and Noah, playing and laughing in the rain.

Lando pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there just a moment longer. “It’s just rain,” he whispered, and for the first time today, you didn’t mind the rain at all.

[madelynraemunson]

NEED…MORE…EX-HUSBAND!EDDIE…I AM FERAL AND FOAMING AT THE MOUTH PLEASE BLESS US MORE I’M BEGGING

IT’S ANGST O’CLOCK!!!

𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐬𝐨 𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠)

ex husband! eddie x fem!reader

“all that still matters is ‘love ever after’ — after the life we’ve been through” — life after you // daughtry

WC: ~950 words

3AM. The witching hour.

The air smells of twilight musk and marinating dew. It's pitch black all around you, the nearest gas station being an agonizing 1.3 miles away. You're also 10 miles from Hawkins, pulled over in nothing but platform heels, a black mini dress, and expired pepper spray in your purse. To make matters worse, the only friends up who seem to be up at this hour are hungry bears and obnoxious, chirping crickets. And skinwalkers if you're where you think you are.

A horrible ending to a girls night out. Just what you needed.

Alone and afraid, you decide to call the number one person on speed dial, whose gradual distaste towards you renders itself very evident from the moment he answers the phone.

"What?! I'm trying to sleep."

"Eds." you whimper into the phone. "I need you."

There's a long pause in response to your petrified sobs, followed by the clicking noise of a phone keyboard before you hear cursing and the frantic ruffling of sheets.

"I’ll be there."

"Well?"

You watch as Eddie crinkles his forehead in concentration, examining your car while his soot-tainted hands explore every crevice of your hood. Routine maintenance has never been as issue because you've always had a personal mechanic at your feet. But since the divorce, you've gotten pretty bad about it. Otherwise, the you and Eddie wouldn't be stuck in this situation. Obviously.

"Weeelp." Eddie sighs, stretching out every bit of the syllable. He slams the hood shut. "She's just about blown out. You're lucky that thing didn't overheat too much with you in it."

You've prided yourself in not needing a man to change your tires, wiper fluid, OR oil nowadays. But in the midst of your journey towards self love and independence, you somehow forgot that your car could also overheat.

"Oh..”

You try not to watch intently as Eddie cleans his hands off with his hanky, the one he keeps neatly tucked into the back pocket of his flattering dark, denim jeans. Your eyes then trail towards his leather jacket, which housed his broad shoulders and delicious waist so nicely, you would've thought it had been tailored just for him. And you could just about fall right into him when he angles his torso towards you, his sculpted jawline glistening in the moonlight — but nearly not as glistening as those gorgeous chocolate eyes, the ones he used to his advantage during your marriage to get you to forgive him for whatever mistake he seemed to make that week. Before you could fawn any further, Eddie snaps you back to reality.

"When was the last time you put some coolant in this thing?"

"Some what?"

"You keep Prestone at the house?" Eddie pesters. "Antifreeze? Peak?"

Cheeks reddening, you shake your head. "No.”

"You get this thing examined often?"

“Not unless you do it," is what you shamefully admit. “For the most part…”

Eddie's face scrunches out of frustration. He knew this would happen.

"God, I hate when you do shit like this," he snaps. "For all I know your engine light could've been on for weeks."

"But it wasn't." you mutter softly. You're already scared. This is the last thing you need.

"You know your car in particular needs to be serviced every half year?" Eddie mutters. "Oil changes, tire rotations. Your break pads have also seen better days. Which is concerning."

"Ok.”

"And how many times do I have to say you gotta pay attention to this fucking radiator?!" Eddie hisses, slapping at the hood again with his open palm. You shudder at the loud *THUNK* noise that echoes across the woods. "We wouldn't be out here in 3AM if you had just taken proactive measures.”

"Stop YELLING at me!" you whine, a piece of your inner child spewing outwards to combat Eddie's belligerent word vomit.

"I'm not yelling." Eddie firmly insists.

He turns his back to you and starts towards your car again.

"Yes, you are, you always do." you croak miserably, balling your fists up in frustration. “You always do Eddie, and I'm sick of it! You always want to be right, and you always kick me when I'm already down to-"

“Okay, okay, okay." Eddie hushes you. He runs a frantic hand through his hair. "Agh, fuck, okay — I’m sorry.”

He looks at you with guilty, glimmering eyes as you shift your body away from him. Guarded, tense. Closing up all access of you towards him because he lost those rights a long time ago. Muttering to himself now, Eddie scrapes at the pebbles beneath his feet, fiddling with the chain of his wallet before he dares to speak to you again.

"I just worry about you a lot."

You peer back over at him. "Deadass?"

He snorts. "Well yeah."

With your permission Eddie stalks closer to you.

"I don't want to wake up to a phone call talking about my wife's car bursting into flames — with her inside." He rolls his eyes. “All because she hasn't been maintaining her shit.”

"I have been," you fib just a bit, though most of it rings true. just forgot to iron out some little details."

Eddie relaxes his shoulders.

"I know," he surrenders. “I guess there's a part of me that secretly hopes you'll still need me somehow. Some way, or another."

"I'll always need your presence," you reassure him.

Your ex husband softens up. He always thought that during your separation you had found another Superman to save the day. Some other handsome devil to fix your car and maintain all the leaky faucets inside your once shared home. But as you've always insisted, nobody has your back like Eddie. Your very own George Reeves. At your disposal for you and you only.

He suddenly wraps his arms around you, and as you predicted you ease right into him, the comfort and familiarity of Eddie melting away any ounce of hostility you guys have ever harbored against each other. You both have your days, but the love you two have for each other has always remained the same. Just changed form, is all.

"I'm glad you're okay," is all he says.

'I'm glad you're here," you sniff. "Always playing hero, per usual..."

"Well for you, always."

He plants a gentle kiss on top of your forehead as you two sway around in unison. You hum to showcase your endearment.

And he'd do it again.

———

🏷️ tagging peeps who seemed interested in this lil universe 🫶🏼✨ thank you guys for reading :)

@highinmiamiii @potatobeans99 @mediocredreams @joshlmbrt @eddiesxangel @enam3l @mmunson86 @davidblowies-blog @thatissonnina @oskea93 @aurora-austen @lesservillain @madeofmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @munsonssweets @nailbatanddungeon @swiss-mrs @winchester-angel @belokhvostikova @curlyjoequinn @strangereads @marrowfrog00 @shadyunknowncreation @tuolcaniacoc @catherinnn @prestinalove @pleuviors @cinemabean @calumfmu @littlexdeaths

[minolikeswords]

Perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone- Jing Yuan x GN! Reader

cw: death, sad Jing Yuan, Jing Yuan is a sweetie, mention of pet death, angst, marriage, hurt/mild comfort???? Lmk if I missed anything <3

wc: 873 words

Mino’s notes: willed this into existence while staring at my own worn rings in the shower lmao. I hope you like it <3

© minolikeswords do not translate, copy, or repost my work to other platforms.

Jing Yuan was not a sentimental man. Throughout his very long life, he’d learned to let go of small attachments. He lived in the moment. The present and the present only, his past had haunted him for long and his future was in his palms. So there was just the present.

Besides, the general was often too tired to even pay mind to most matters of his past. Yet it slipped out sometimes, in small, barely noticeable items he had around him. Snowmoon’s red collar placed on a shelf by his desk, he’d rub the golden bell hanging from it every morning. A silent greeting to a pet (family) long gone. Pictures thrown deep within his closet he’d find maybe once a month while cleaning, letters and mementos from friends he’d lost and friends he rarely saw anymore.

But his favourite keepsake?

A shiny, golden, nearly perfect (though he’d agree it was already) ring that he kept around his neck. One he kissed many times while working. Polished every week. It lay directly over his heart most times. A reminder of who he once had and loved with all his being.

Jing Yuan liked you since you started working with him. Witty, smart, easy going, fun and always eager to learn. He found himself smitten in a few months alone, finding any excuse to keep you near him. You gave him hope.

It was great, you were both happy. He doesn’t know when it started, maybe he’d realized how fragile humans were? Maybe he’d realized how easy it was to hurt you, how easily you got sick. He didn’t know what to do, and it tore him apart.

“I already know I won’t live as long as you, ‘Yuan,” you murmured, your fingers rubbing his scalp as he sat between your legs in the shower. Jing Yuan let out a soft and irritated noise at that.

“It doesn’t bother you? You aren’t frightened?” Bright yellow eyes stared up at you and you smiled at him. He’s never seen a smile like yours since. Even then it made his chest tighten and his heart stutter. You lean down and kiss his forehead.

“It scares me every day, my love. But right now, I am here, and we are together. Is that not what matters?” You whisper against his hair, taking in his smell. Truth be told it terrified you. Jing Yuan knew it as well as you did, someone who lived as long as him was not ignorant to how death loomed over all.

But now, you were here, in his arms, where he could hold you and love you.

“I’ll love you always, you know that right?” He said suddenly, gazing at you as you read. Your head resting on his chest and his hands brushing through it. You smile amusedly, turning to look at your lover.

“I could never ask that of you. It is selfish.”

He hummed, the corners of his mouth turned upwards, “you’re the only one I get to be selfish with, so allow me to indulge, my dove.”

Jing yuan now rests against his chair in his office. Hands idly fidgeting with his own ring, the gold worn from the decades of use. He rarely ever took it off, a fear of losing it. He missed you, he couldn’t wait to visit you today.

It was your birthday. Normally he’d decorate your whole house to surprise you when you returned, set up candles, rose petals, set up a table for dinner and cook a meal for you both. Today? He was going to drop by the bakery and pick up your favourite sweets.

He didn’t like them very much, and you always insisted that you didn’t either. Yet, without fail, he’d get them for you every week, and yet, without fail, you’d wake up at night, slip out from besides him and eat as many as you could without getting sick. Never questioning where they kept coming from even when you both knew.

The bakery stood the same all the years you were together. The lady behind the counter smiling as he picked up a box, a flower taped to the top, “for the spouse, general?” She asked politely, and Jing Yuan nodded, “no one but.”

He walked to the cemetery that day. It was chilly out and you would’ve enjoyed the weather, grabbed his hand and laughed and pulled him along with you. Looking up at the sky and wondering if it would’ve rained. Oh how you loved the rain and how he loved watching you.

Your gravestone greeted him the same as it did everyday. Some people would say it was overkill to visit everyday, but it wasn’t. Not for Jing Yuan. He couldn’t get enough of you. He placed the box on your grave, fingers brushing against the cold stone, over your name. Eyes stinging with tears that your hands couldn’t wipe away. He smiled all the same and sat down on the dirt, opening the box and pulling a sweet out and taking a bite as he began to tell you about his day.

“I will see you soon, someday, Dove. Until then, allow me to be a little selfish for a while longer.”

[azzibuckets]

Paper Rings [Part 9/10 | Paige Bueckers]

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: you and paige start to heal

word count: 1.5k

masterlist w/ all parts

It was 2 AM when you finally returned to the hotel room. You’d hung out with some of the girls until they announced that Paige was coming, and then you’d mumbled something about needing to finish up some work and went to a coffee shop. Once the baristas started giving you strange looks, you went to a nearby bar, nursing a Sprite and your feelings in the corner of the room.

You were wasting away time, hoping Paige would be sound asleep by the time you returned to the hotel room. You couldn’t force yourself to face her. It would be easier just to ignore everything and creep into the room in the wee hours of morning.

Except when you tiptoed into the room, Paige was sitting on the bed. There was a low murmur from the NBA game playing on the TV, and she was faced towards it, but the distant look in her eyes told you that she wasn’t paying any attention to it at all.

You swallowed, letting the door close. Paige lurched up and when her eyes fell on you, it was like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. “Where were you?” She scrambled off the bed, but didn’t make a move towards me. “I thought something happened.”

“I was just out,” you mumbled, tossing your purse on the counter and slumping on the armchair.

“You can’t just do that.” Paige’s chest heaved. She was close now, and you coud see the dark circles rimming her eyes. Her hair was in a messy ponytail but she looked as beautiful as ever. “You can’t just disappear and not tell anyone. I was calling the rest of the girls but no one was responding because they’re all asleep, and I was getting freaked out.”

A wave of guilt washed over you. To be honest, you hadn’t thought that Paige had cared enough to wonder about your whereabouts. But she’d stayed up, when she was usually in bed by 10, and she’d been worrying her mind over you.

“Are you okay?” Paige asked, shifting from one foot to the other.

You didn’t answer, resting your head on one of the pillows on the couch. “Listen, I know we agreed earlier to sleep on the bed, but if you’re still upset then I can take the ground. It’s really not a big deal,” she stammered out in a rush, looking down at her feet.

At this point, you were exhausted. The overwhelming noise of the bar had given you a pounding headache, and all you wanted to do was sleep. You stood up, slightly swaying, and Paige reached to steady you, but she stopped herself, drawing her hands back to her chest.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you finally responded. “It doesn’t matter, Paige. I’m really tired. Let’s just go to sleep, okay?”

She nodded, following you with careful eyes as you made your way to the bed. She turned off the lights and gingerly sat on the edge. “You sure?” she asked one more time.

You closed your eyes, slowly breathing out. “Paige.”

“Okay, okay.” She pulled the covers over her body and you both laid there, staring at the ceiling.

For what seemed like hours, you stayed like that, not even bothering to close your eyes. Despite your exhaustion, you couldn’t seem to fall asleep, and neither could Paige.

“Y/N?” She whispered. You clamped your mouth shut, wondering what she would say if she thought you were asleep. “I’m sorry, but I can’t be this close to you and can’t not explain myself. If you’re asleep then whatever, I guess this is practice, but if you’re awake, you don’t have to say anything if I can keep going but…” she trailed off, seeming to be gathering her thoughts.

“I know there’s no excuse for the way I treated you. The things I said. Every day I wake up and regret everything that happened.” She audibly swallowed. “But I need you to know that I didn’t say those things because I didn’t want you. Because fuck, I did. I do. I was just so scared. And I was a pussy, so instead of being mature and dealing it with it head on, I ran away.”

You didn’t know what to say yet, but you shifted your head against the pillow so Paige would know that you were listening.

“I didn’t think I was good enough for you. You were my best friend. You told me everything you wanted, how you wanted to settle down with someone nice and have kids and everything. And knowing who I was, how many other girls I’ve accidentally hurted, I didn’t trust myself to not hurt you too.” Her breaths were shaky now, and you could tell that she was doing that thing where she was trying not to cry. Your heart ached, and it took everything in you not to reach over and touch her.

“I woke up the next morning, and I felt like such a horrible person. That I’d taken advantage of you.” She was crying now, sobs racking her body. She sounded so wrecked, so hurt that when you closed your eyes, tears slipped down your cheeks too.

“I don’t even know how those words came out of me. None of it was true. I hope you know that. And I know I hurt you really bad. But I swear on my life that’s something I’ll try to never do again, if you’ll take me back.” You felt the bed shift as Paige wiped her eyes with her arm. “And I totally get it if you want nothing to do with me ever again. But I’m fucking selfish, and I want to be around you.”

You gasped, tears flowing freely now. The hole in your heart was widening, threatening to eat you alive. Every fiber of your being was screaming at you, telling you to roll around and assure her that everything would be okay.

“This past year has been hell. I miss getting ice cream with you and I miss seeing you at my basketball games and I miss seeing you hang out with Drew and being so good to him. I miss the way you laugh and the way you look in my clothes. I miss you.”

You sat upright. Paige sat up too, surprise in her eyes. The moonlight filtering in through the window was bright enough for you to just make out her features - the wrinkle in her forehead from the downturn of her eyebrows, the redness of her eyes and her lashes coated with wetness, the fullness of her lips, the slant of her jaw. How did she still manage to look so beautiful like this?

“Y/N?” she said softly.

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips against hers. She gasped, before she laced her fingers through your hair, pulling you closer. You were on top of her now, straddling her lap, your legs wrapped around her waist.

After a few moments, she pushed you away. Her eyes were half lidden. “Wait,” she panted. “I don’t want to-,”

“You don’t want to what? Kiss me?” You said, peppering kisses down her jawline.

“Y/N, no. God,” she said. Her grip on your waist was tight, the veins in her neck flexing. “I want to, you know I do. But I don’t want this to end up with just sex and have it complicate things even further.”

You stopped kissing her, instead leaning your head into her neck, breathing in her familiar scent that you had missed all too much. “Yeah, okay.”

“Okay?” Paige leaned down, bringing you with her. You were lying half on top of her, and you were so comfortable that you didn’t want to move, but you didn’t want to suffocate her. “If I’m getting heavy, let me know and-”

“No, fuck. This is perfect,” she interrupted, reassuring you.

You tilted your head up to look at her, and her eyes softened. You realized that you’d started crying again when she brought her thumb up to wipe at the tears on your cheeks.

You buried your head back in the crook of her neck, allowing yourself to release all your worries and soak in her presence. She ran her fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp in the same way she’s done so many times before. “You’re okay,” she murmured, soothing you to sleep.

[blauerhund]

Pauls contribution to the Spy Museum Berlin

See: https://rammwiki.net/wiki/Spy_Museum_Berlin_(soundtrack)

I recently visited Berlin and wanted to check out the spy museum Paul did the music for, ze Deutsches Spionagemuseum, which is located at Potsdamer Platz. It's probably the last Rammstein related spot left that I've been wanting to check out in the city and I finally came about doing so in the one day I was there. The last time they unfortunately had a fire alarm going on, so I couldn't go in, but this time I succeeded!

I really ... I can't get myself to be interested in History Museums and the like, I don't know why. Maybe it's because my dad dragged us kids through every single castle, open air farm museum and medieval market South Germany had to offer at the time, resulting in the adverse effect of me, as an adult, feeling like I need to go sit down after having taken five steps into a Natural History Museum. I guess that means I'm satiated. Sometimes I visit art exhibitions though, but even those drain me so much, I just about run through them and am in a bad mood afterward. Have you heard of Museum Fatigue, because that's a real thing! Anyhow, that's why I made it my mission to walk through the spy museum looking only for the music bits playing. I spent about 10€ at the entrance and then walked in through something resembling a personnel sluice.

At first, I thought they had removed the music as I didn't hear any sounds at all for quite some time after going in, apart from some shooting noise coming from the one corner. However, on the second floor I made out a brawarahh and pushed past info screens, a real-life Trabi and spy standees trying to find out where the sound was coming from. I wanted to try recording some of it as well.

The speakers were put up high above, and I stood there looking like a complete nut holding one arm outstretched above my head pointing my phone at the ceiling. Luckily there weren't too many people there, but what does it matter to me, I was on my mission.

Ever since I had first heard about it, I've been wondering how Paul came about doing this. I guess the most likely explanation is him having a friend involved with the spy museum, asking him if he wanted to put a small part in or something similar. I think Paul is someone who would be happy contributing to a culturally significant occasion or institution, if he sees fit. As can be seen on his Instagram, he does like to look at attractions and things alike, and I imagine him being quite enthusiastic about doing so:

https://www.instagram.com/paullanders_official/p/B1gYv3hoByc/?hl=de&img_index=1

Look at the last picture – he has a good time. I think it's often the bunch consisting of him, Olli and Schneider out and about looking at local attractions and exploring the cities they play in. Jens tagging along from time to time :^)

The Spionagemuseum has quite a few things you can get hands on with, like solving small riddles or trying out a lie detector test. Or even making your way through a laser field! I, well, I just looked at it, but I can see Paul getting in there, rolling around on the floor. It's definitely a well produced exhibition!

They also showed footage of spy movies like Jason Bourne, Mission Impossible, James Bond and so on, with music playing next to it and, you know, I'm quite confident that one wasn't done by Herr Paul Landers, but just the original score. Although there is a song in the laser room where I was sure it was a movies soundtrack as well, but on the RammWiki page there is a song called "Laser Room" so it must be from Paul! Only goes to show his versatility :) Correct me in case I'm wrong and it's a film score after all.

At first, I wanted to include my recordings in this post, then I got a bit scared of violating copyright law, so I'm not gonna share them here (unless we have a German law expert on here telling me it would be fine?), but feel free to DM me. It's mostly eerie sounds, plus that one film score-like bit.

I think I feel rebellious enough for a little snippet though, so if you want to have a taste of Pauls soundtrack composer career, have a listen:

[coquettepwuppy]

hELLO CHAT i aM here to request someonne from a fandom I KNOW you're in and that person is Joe from Sk8 the infinity (you can throw in Cherry if you want, I need dads) You know some viewers MAY find me aNnOyInG at fir-

Cg! Cherry and Joe - Sk8 The Infinity headcannons

🌸 - They may bicker a lot in general but when a little is around? That stops. That is kept for another room and never in front of their little one.

🌱 - Joe will teach you any and every recipe you could ever want. Or if you're a bit too little to help him cook you're his personal taste tester!

🌸 - Cherry is the responsible one. Carrying around a pouch of little gear for you or Miya.

🌱 - Joe does his best but tends to forget stuff so Cherry always makes him double check before they head out.

🌸 - One time Cherry forgot something but Joe didn't and it still hasn't been dropped. Never again.

🌱 - You little and supposed to head to S tonight? There's two options!

🌸 - One or both stay home until you go to bed! Or

🌱 - You go to watch them skate! You are absolutely not allowed to skate in races.

🌸 - If both Cherry and Joe are racing they will leave you with Reki and Langa but never just one, they're more like a big brother package deal.

🌱 - You wanna learn how to skate when small! Okay! We got the best teachers!! No Reki the kid can't learn to do a kick flip and no Langa it's not a snowboard.

🌸 - You're only allowed to skate during the day and never down at S when regressed.

🌱 - Both are very strict on bed times but never will tell the other about those 5 extra minutes you got of storytime cause you begged.

🌸 - Trouble sleeping? Carla will play white noise all night for you!

🌱 - It doesn't matter if you're asleep. One always has to be home and they will never go to S together knowing you're regressed at home, the last thing they want is you waking up scared and confused not knowing where they are.

'm assuming you wanted headcannons..?

If so here ya go! Hope yous enjoy!!

@kittyhasclawsandbites

[cherriegyuu]

I am in serious need for any comforting fluffy Scoups drabble where it just feels like a warm hug. Maybe after OC is feeling scared over something? Idk he just looks like such a comforting person

LOVE YOUR WORK BTW

hi!! i hope you like it!

pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader genre: fluff  word count: 518 warning: mentions of death (no one dies)

a/n: this was not proofread

It was the sound of you crying that woke him up. Seungcheol was usually a very light sleeper, any sound around him was enough to stir him awake. But over time he became especially sensitive to you. He knew when you weren’t sleeping well just by the way you’d move more during your sleep, like your mind was both giving you a nightmare and begging you to wake up. 

“Love?” he whispered softly, worried that if he called your name louder you’d get further scared “Love, wake up”

He turned the lamp on his bedside on and turned back to you. You had tears streaming down your cheeks, your eyes shut tightly, as your hands balled into fits over your chest gripping tightly to the sheets. 

“Baby, please wake up,” Seungcheol said, a little louder this time, his hand on your face “y/n, baby, I need you to wake up”

With a gasp, you jolted upright, soaked with sweat. Your heart raced like a wild horse, each beat taking your breath away. The leftovers of the nightmares still gripping tightly to your brain. 

You were still disoriented, having a hard time understanding that you were no longer trapped in your mind, but back in your room. The sob that was trapped in your throat was set free once you saw Seungcheol’s face. He hovered over you, eyes filled with concern, trying to find the source of your fear.

“Cheol” you cried, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him to you, burring your face in his neck “In my dream, you were gone”

It wasn’t the first you had that kind of dream, one in which Seungcheol died. Though you never really told him what happened in those nightmares, you always woke up from them in the same way: terrified that once you opened your eyes, he’d no longer be there. 

“It’s okay, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere” he kissed your hair, then your forehead, and finally your lips “No matter what happens, I’ll always be by your side. I promise”

You shook your head, looking at his eyes. Seungcheol smiled at you, his dimple on full display. You pressed the tips of your fingers against it like you did whenever you were on your own. 

“You can’t promise that” you said quietly.

“Of course, I can” he said with a pout, smiling at you “There’s nothing in this world that would make me leave you”

“What if you really die?”

Seungcheol shook his head, a smile still on his face as he tried to calm you down. He could tell that you were still nervous, your hand pressed against his chest was still shaking. 

“Then I’d come back to haunt you. And if you ever bring someone over, I’d turn off all the lights and turn on the TV, making weird noises like in the ring”

That brought a laugh out of you, making the smile on Seungcheol’s face grow even bigger, knowing that you were slowly calming down. 

“I have to scare off any idiot who thinks he can have my girl”

[clumsiestgiantess]

Lots of people wanted a continuation to the short I made for @entomolog-t’s prompt, so here you are! I already had ideas for a second part the moment I finished the first one!

(First part here)

I was so tired the night of my disappearing act that I barely made it to the scraps of insulated fabric I call my bed.  Just as my head hit the comfortable fluff, a thud echoed above my head and I dashed to the doorway in seconds, heart racing.  More thuds rumbled over the floorboards as I stood frozen looking fearfully upwards — believing Alice somehow knows where I am, and is trying to pry up the wooden planks to get to me.  Faintly, I can hear her muffled voice.  “Please, I know you’re scared, but hiding isn’t going to do either of us any good!  Just come out; I swear I’m not dangerous!”  

Oh.  She’s probably crawling around on the floor trying to find me.  Well, unless she can crawl beneath it, she’ll have a tough time finding anything but dust!  I sneered at the thought, trying to reassure myself enough to get back in bed.  I’m safe now.  She’s not going to find me here.  However, no matter how many fabric scraps I press over my ears, I can’t drown out enough noise for me to sleep.  Even when I lay on the cold floor with everything over my head until I’m nearly suffocating, I can still feel the vibrations of Alice moving around.  Just go to sleep already!  Thud around all you like in the morning when I leave for the day!  Regardless of my mental harassment of her, the human didn’t give up until it was early morning.

Finally, I have peace and quiet, and I fall asleep in record time.  Come morning, the house is still silent as ever.  I wake up with a gnawing ache in my chest.  Briefly, I think it’s guilt over what I’d done the day before — turns out it was just hunger.  I’d run away before getting to eat yesterday.  Thankfully, I have some provisions that I’ve stored away for emergencies.  I grab a few crackers and glance at the little watch piece that’s fastened to the wall.  Oh, what?!  I slept in!  I usually never sleep in!  My natural alarm wakes me up at almost the exact time every day.  Then again, I’m usually asleep much earlier than last night, too.  

No wonder the floor is so quiet; Alice is probably out of the house by now, or in her room working on human things.  Quickly finishing breakfast, I slip on my bag and head out to the large kitchen.  Now that my emergency stash of food is diminished, I’m a bit anxious to get it stocked again.  I walk the same trek I’d sleepily walked the night before, but stop at the end of the hall where the electrical cover sits.  Maybe I’ll.. go a different way.  

Taking the long way through the walls, I come out inside a cabinet with windowed doors.  Reaching out to push one open, I glance out of it and flinch.  With cautious steps, I slide backward behind some cups.  Alice is in the room.  None of her usual music is playing, she isn’t watching videos on her phone, she isn’t talking to herself or a friend on the phone, either.  She’s just sitting there with what appears to be her breakfast, staring numbly at a wall.  Huh.  Whatever ‘exams’ are, they really seem to be stressing her out.  Usually she’s done with breakfast by now.  

Her strange behavior can’t be because of me.  She had spent less than twelve hours with me, and most of that time she spent ignoring me.  Logically, she wouldn’t be that upset over someone she barely knew, right?  She’d given up her search hours ago when she finally stopped keeping me up all night.

A while later, she leaves.  It’s strange, though.  Alice steps lightly across the room, glancing around the floor before each step.  Maybe she lost something important?  That tends to make humans fairly stressed.  Hell, it makes me stressed.  If a human’s missing something, it might mean I made a bad judgment call on what I could take without being noticed.

My nerves settle when the sound of her footsteps fade off.  Back to business.  My day runs relatively smoothly from there.  Of course, I had to come across a knot or two in my climbing rope mid-scale, which I wasn’t too happy about.  After collecting up some food, I spent a long while getting the knots to untie.  It’s always best to get them out before you make a climb, that way your weight won’t tug them tighter.  It was too late for that lesson to come in handy, though.  

My next chore on the list is borrowing some more thread to stitch winter linings back into my clothes.  The winter weather caught me by surprise.  It had come earlier than I thought, and I’d nearly died because of it.  Briefly, blurry visions of the inside of that knitted hat fade in and out of my consciousness.  I nearly froze to death that night.  If the thing hadn’t been left there accidentally, I wouldn’t have made it long enough to even try to get help.  Blinking away the memories, I realized I was shivering and rubbed my hands over my arms for a bit more warmth, reminding myself that I’m safe here.  The apartment never gets that cold.  Ever.

At my home under the floors that afternoon, I gather up the materials I already collected.  I have the fluffy inner lining that I’d taken from an old coat Alice left in a storage bin — I’ve been using it as bedding — my knife to cut everything to size, and a smaller needle I’d whittled out of a long chunk of wood.  Now all I need is the thread.

Back in my little passages, I head in the opposite direction through the floor.  I slow as I make my way up into the walls towards Alice’s room.  Unfortunately, that’s where the sewing kit is, directly under her bed.  Alice will be there for sure.  Whatever she’s working on this time must be important.  I haven’t heard her leave her room all day since I saw her walk in this morning.  She hasn’t even gotten lunch.  Maybe she has a snack on her desk!  Perhaps when she’s asleep or out of the house I’ll steal some of it.

Sliding out of a crack in the baseboards behind a large bookshelf, I creep up to the very edge of it and scan the room.  Sure enough, Alice is there doing schoolwork, watching a video on something called ‘trigonometry’ that I can barely pronounce — I don’t dare try to imagine what it actually is.  At least she’s not being unnervingly still anymore.  

I dart from my place beneath the bookshelf to beneath her bed.  The sewing kit sits further towards the wall, right beside her desk.  Alice seems distracted enough, scribbling down something while mumbling about things I don’t understand.  She does that often enough that it isn’t as concerning as this morning.  Maybe she’s finally returning to normal.  That’s a relief.  A human on a schedule is a good human to live with.  Memorize it, use it to your advantage, and you’ll practically own the place — at least while they’re not around.

Making my way to the box, I wait for the video to start playing again before popping open the lid — timing it so she doesn’t pick up the noise amidst the other sounds she’s concentrating on.  Sliding a few things around, I manage a clear path to the spool I want.  Rummaging through various different items larger than yourself is no easy task, but I make it look practically effortless.  A shrunken human would never be able to do half the things I do on a daily basis, I think with a smirk.  I yank out the spool of thread and reach for my knife.

“No!  What?  How?!  I used the same formula and everything!”  I flinch as Alice yells, her angry voice edged with dismay.  Cautiously, I tiptoe over to the side of her bedframe and glance up at her.  She’s frantically writing something down, biting at her bottom lip with furrowed brows.  Whatever it is, she isn’t too happy about it.  I’m just about to continue my work when she glances over at the computer screen again.  “What the heck?!”  Furiously, she crumples her paper into a crushed ball, looking ready to throw it across the room in a fit of rage.  I brace myself instinctively, thankful I hadn’t stuck around to anger her.

Suddenly, a sob wrenches out of Alice’s throat, catching me entirely by surprise.  She curls her arms around her head as it falls to the surface of the desk.  The paper ball drops dully to the floor.  Her whole body shakes as she cries onto her desk, and my relief drops into a muted kind of confusion.  “I’m gonna fail,” she whimpers, “I can’t do this.  Why is everything going so wrong?  I just wanted to help him; why’d he run away?  I feel sick.  What if he’s hurt somewhere and can’t call for help?  What if he’s too scared to call for help?”

She.. really is worried about me.  So worried that she’s acting like a complete mess — and not the silly endearing mess I’m fond of her for.  If my disappearance amplifies her worries over these exams…  Well, she didn’t tell me what would happen if she failed them, just that she couldn’t.  I abandon the thread I’m after and rush for the crack in the wall behind the bookshelf.  A plan’s forming in my mind.  It might backfire horribly, but I’m hoping it’ll work.  Alice is much too distracted for me to even bother checking if the coast is clear.  Her light sobs still echo against the surface of her desk.

I slip between the two halves of the wall and take a large calming breath.  Then I start shouting.  “Alice!  It’s ok, I-”  The human sits up so abruptly I stop talking fearfully.  I don’t know how beings as big as her can move so quickly.  She scans the floor of the entire room in only a few seconds.  Of course, I’m smart enough not to be in plain sight.  “Hello?”  Alice’s voice is slightly muffled like her nose is stuffy.  I swallow a lump that formed in my throat.  “It’s.. It’s ok.  It’s me, the ‘little guy’.”  Alice hastily rubs away her tears and stands up.  “You’re… alright?” she asks me, glancing around.  “Yeah.”

“Oh thank god!” Alice gasps, relieved.  “You made me so worried for you!  Are you hungry still?  I- I know you haven’t eaten in a while since you.. ran off when I tried to get something for you.”

The room falls into an awkward silence.  I can’t see much of her from beneath the bookshelf, but I watch Alice nervously shuffle from foot to foot — waiting for my response.  She can’t stay silent for very long, though.  “Look, I’m sorry I scared you off…  I don’t know what happened, but I’m willing to work with you to try and get your memories and your old life back.  I can’t imagine how terrifying it is to suddenly be so small, not even knowing how you got that way-”

“Stop.”  Alice quieted at the single word.  “That’s.. a lie.  I remember everything just fine.”  I want to say that I’m not terrified of being small either, but I can’t bring myself to say it.  Even if I’ve lived my whole life this way, I still have my moments.  Yesterday and that whole escapade with the freezing car was one of the worst of them.  “So.. you just didn’t want to tell me how you shrank?”  I sigh, “No.. Alice, I- I never shrank.  I’ve always been this way.”  She starts and stops talking a few different times — syllables barely leaving her mouth.  “I’m not human, Alice.”

The silence that follows is worse than the last.  It feels almost suffocating.  A gentle thud reverberates over the floorboards and I peer out.  Alice is kneeling on the floor, leaning down to peer under the bookshelf.  Quickly, I duck back behind the wall.  “Is that why you left?”  Her voice softens, tears entirely gone.  “I promised I wouldn’t hurt you.”  “You promised the tiny human me that you wouldn’t hurt me.”  I glance out of my hiding spot just as Alice’s gaze wanders, thinking through something.  

“You thought I would go back on my word if I knew you were lying to me?  Or you just.. thought that I wouldn’t care because you’re not human?” she asks me, sounding hurt.  I feel almost chastised.  Her gaze flickers to me.  “I promised you that I wouldn’t hurt you.  You.  No matter who or what you were.  I’m a bit upset you wanted to lie to me about… everything.  But I can’t be mad at you for being scared of me.  I won’t ask you to talk to me anymore if you don’t want to, but just know, I’m glad you’re alright.”

Tears of relief well in my eyes and my throat tightens.  Tentatively, I slide out from within the crack in the wall.  “You- You really mean that?  You don’t care that I’m not one of you?”  A small smile spreads over Alice’s lips.  Of course not, don’t be silly!  You’re safe here, I promise.  I understand if you want to go home, though.  You probably have others of your kind to get back to, and I’ve accidentally trapped you in my house.”  I glance away sheepishly, “Well, about that…  I kind of.. live here.”  “What?!”

I end up telling her every part of the truth — how I really got into her car, where I’d gone to when I ran off — everything.  “I actually did remember my name.  It’s just.. not really a human-sounding one, so I couldn’t exactly give you it.  My name’s Fennel, but I mostly just go by Fen.”  “Fen?” she asks a bit confusedly.  I nod.  “Nice to finally really meet you!” Alice laughs, “How long have you been living here.. with me?”  I think back.  “I moved in after you were already here, but you were still unpacking things, so I don’t think it was very far off from when you moved in, too.”  Alice makes a surprised noise.  “Where were you living before?”  “Eh, another apartment in this building.  The new people were too loud, so I moved out.”  She giggled, “I wish I could just pack up and slip into a new home whenever I have problems with the neighbors.”  I sigh, “It’s harder than it seems; I have to rebuild a livable space for myself every time.”  Alice nods thoughtfully, sitting back up.  Some of her bones crack as she does, and I flinch.

“Hey, if you don’t mind, can you maybe come out from beneath there?  It hurts my back to try to bend all the way to the floor to look at you.”  She won’t hurt you, she won’t hurt you, she won’t hurt you.  “Alright.”  With slow deliberate steps I make my way out from beneath the bookshelf.  Alice sits a foot away from me.  I have to crane my neck back vertically to see her face, peering almost all the way downward at me.  She offers me the palm of her hand.  “Can I hold you?  Please?”  My heartbeat thunders so loudly I almost don’t hear what she asks.  Cautiously, I nod and step up onto her hand, raised just a bit higher than a stair.  She won’t hurt you, she won’t hurt you, she won’t hurt you.

I’ve never interacted with a human before her, but I’ve seen it happen before.  My brother — well, he wasn’t actually my brother, but we always called eachother that — had been found by a human.  I was there.  It was pitch dark, perfect time for borrowing.  We’d forgotten a light, but Gin scoffed at the idea of going back for one — until he stepped into a mouse trap.  Every once and a while I’ll still hear the awful noise made when the trap snapped closed on him.  The human came running when they heard the gargled shriek, and the last thing he told me was to leave him there.  The metal beam that had crunched around his midsection somehow hadn’t killed him, but his body was far from unharmed.

From a grate in the floor nearby, I watched as the human found him, ensured him things would be alright, and pulled him out of the trap — tearing him in two.  In hindsight, I don’t think the human meant to kill him.  They screamed and dropped the half of him they were holding.  I was too stricken and horrified to process that in the moment, so I just ran.

“Fen?”  I flinched so violently I nearly knocked myself in the face with my hand, instinctively trying to cover my head with my arms.  “Are you ok?  You look sick.  If this makes you uncomfortable, I can put you back down.  You didn’t have to get on.”  It’s just like in the car — her blue-eyed gaze looking me over with genuine concern.  “I- I’m alright.”  She gently shakes her head.  “You aren’t, though.  You’re shaking.”  The gentlest pressure alights on my chest as a soft finger brushes up against it.  “And your heart’s beating really fast.”  Her touch is so soft — incredibly cautious like she’s holding something precious and delicate.  Maybe I am, to her.  It’s nothing like what I had imagined a human would feel like, nothing at all.

In a brief moment of weakness, my eyes tear up and I squeeze her finger closer, pressing my forehead against it.  It is absolutely terrifying thinking about where I am.  I’ve spent all my life believing it’s a place of certain death.  Why is it so comfortable?  All Alice would have to do to hurt me is close her fist and squeeze.  My fate wouldn’t be that much different than Gin’s.  She won’t hurt you, she won’t hurt you, she won’t hurt you.

Everything shifts around me and I rush to get out of her grip, immediately fearing that my imagination somehow willed an awful reality.  But Alice brings me up to her chest and holds me gently against it.  She tucks me against her sternum as her head comes to rest behind her hands that hold me.  “It’s alright now.”  I’m not sure if she’s assuring me, or herself, but I accept it and bring myself snugly against her.  It’s blissfully warm there.  While the walls where I live aren’t nearly as freezing as the outdoors, they’re still plenty cold.  The heat is more than welcome.  My wild pulse softens into a much normal rhythm while I listen to Alice’s own heartbeat thrumming beneath her skin.

Things are fuzzy in my mind beyond that moment.  I’ve been up for a full twenty-four hours, and the night before was only worse than the last.  I remember stumbling off her palm onto her desk, watching dazedly as Alice looked around the room for something.  She finds it and places it down for me.  It’s a little blanket folded over so it can be both a mattress and blanket at the same time.  I crawl into it, listening to the sound of pencil scratches on paper for only a few minutes before I fall asleep mumbling a weary ‘thank you’.

[sanjoongie]

𐊇𝒆𝞪r𝗹𝟈𝘴𝔰 𝘊𝒽𝒶𝛐ꜱ

🏴‍☠️A/N: this is in retaliation to space pirate hwa you threw at me and all the other 'suffer with topaz' tags missy @smallfrye 🏴‍☠️Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Reader (f) 🏴‍☠️Au: pirate au, ghost au, historical au 🏴‍☠️Genre: smut, angst 🏴‍☠️Trope: strangers to lovers 🏴‍☠️Warnings: mentions of death, fire, strangulation > kinks: fingering (f), dom!wooyoung, sub!reader, temperature play? (woo is a cold ghost, you're a hot human), penetrative sex without a barrier, slight begging kink, slight praise kink 🏴‍☠️Rated: 18+, MDNI 🏴‍☠️Word count: 1,750 🏴‍☠️Summary: You purchase a one way ticket across the Atlantic ocean on a refitted ship to flee the ghosts of your past, only to encounter a new ghost, one who isn't looking to torture you but give you pleasure

You woke up to your entire cabin shaking. You had no idea how, since every item was nailed down on this passenger ship, but it was like your ship was being sucked into a maelstrom and being struck by lightning at the same time. Except, you were calm. Your basin was thrown across the room and smashed next to your head and still you didn't flinch. 

You sat up and wrapped the blankets around you instinctively. It was chaos reincarnated but you did not hear screams from outside of your room. It was completely, oddly, possible that this was only happening in your room. It stopped just as suddenly as it started and when you blinked, everything was back in place like nothing ever happened.

When you woke up the next morning, you listened to the other passengers talk about a good night’s sleep with the lull of the ship rocking them. No one complained about a rocky sleep or a storm. You're not exactly sure what’s going on but you believe you’re being targeted.

Each night you suffer through the same crazy night but sometimes the scenes change. You got chaos, you got carnage, you got terrifying noises that would keep any sane person up. You woke up to observe your surroundings, and to ensure your survival, but you were not shaken by what you watched happen within your cabin. You had been through worse…

The flames lick up the plush curtains, creating otherworldly colors. The hands around your throat tighten and tighten, despite how you claw at them. The light brown eyes above you swirl with insanity. “You and me forever, my love.”

A wisp of dust and light pushed through the door to your cabin and a man walked through it. Well, clearly he wasn’t a man considering the lines around him were fuzzy and unsolid, but he took the form of a man. His ruffled shirt, tight pants and high boots said he was not of the current world but the authority in his step said he was used to giving orders and them being followed.

“Explain to me why you never scream no matter what I do to haunt you?!” The man demanded, fussing with the ruffles at his wrist. He snapped his fingers and the entire room dripped of blood, as if a massacre had occurred while you slept. You stared at him with an even gaze and he rolled his eyes. “This is what I’m talking about! You’re supposed to be scared!”

“I have once lived a hell worse than this,” You informed him. 

Unimpressed eyes scanned over your form. With his tongue between his lips in contemplation, his eyes swept over the curve of your bare shoulder, down to where you held your sheets to modestly cover your chest. “What woman dare sleep in the nude aboard my ship?”

You tilted your head. “Your ship?”

“I am the captain!” The man announced, dramatically sweeping his arms out wide. “Or, I was. Until my stupid crew mutinied and gave themselves up to the navy in hopes of a pardon. They killed me in my own room, you know?” His eyes narrowed down at you. “This room.”

“Oh,” You murmured, “You’re a ghost.”

The man sighed. “A ghost? I am THE Jung Wooyoung, Fearless Chaos, the one who discovered the--” Wooyoung’s tirade stopped as you laid back down and turned your back to him. “Wait a minute, you’re going back to sleep?”

“If you’re not going to throw my things around the room, I’d like to sleep, thank you,” You responded a-matter-of-factly.

The heeled boots of the once-captain clicked across the well-worn wood floor as Wooyoung moved from the door to your bed--his bed. His cold hand held your shoulder and turned your body to make you lie on your back. “You are an intriguing woman,” He muttered to himself. 

You stared up at him patiently, waiting for his next move. Goosebumps covered your skin at his ghostly touch. Wooyoung’s eyes swept over the arch of your eyebrows and the slump of your nose and your lips and he felt something he hadn't felt in perhaps decades since he was killed: lust. He wanted to break your mask and make you show something other than cool disregard for him. He wanted you to fall apart from his touches.

“I am not scared of you,” You said with the slightest tilt of your chin. “Do your worst.”

Wooyoung whipped the blankets off your form and smirked in delight to find your entire body naked underneath. His eyes were eager to discover more of your delightful body. His cool hands traced a wonderful pattern on your skin, the texture unlike anything he has seen before… you winced as he did so, but it was not a wince of pain.

“I am not scared either,” Wooyoung admitted quietly. In fact, his fingers travel past the burn marks and move towards the junction of your thighs. 

Your eyes snapped to his face, almost searching for a mocking quality to it, but there was none to find. Wooyoung has appreciated your burns from that horrible night but he’d much rather provide you pleasure than give you pain. That was a first.

“Yeosang!” You pleaded with a strangled voice. Your fingers look for purchase to pull away his hands from your throat but he’s too strong.

The flames of the fire roaring around you and the flames of lunacy in your beloved's eyes compete with each other. “Don’t fight it,” He murmured in a quiet voice, “Let us enter the afterlife together, my love.”

Wooyoung patiently spread your legs, a hand pushing your thighs apart so that he could have easier access to your cunt. He licked his lips in anticipation. He wished he could taste what was there but at the very least, he could ease the frown between your eyebrows.

You didn't look at Wooyoung but you did tilt your hips in a silent offering. Wooyoung dipped his fingers to the juncture of your thighs and you whined pitifully. Wooyoung swirled his finger, cold against the heat of your pussy, in the slick that gathered there. “So wet,” He observed, before pinching your clit with his other hand. 

The captain ghost played your body like a fiddle. With your clit between his thumb and forefinger, he pinched and rubbed the sensitive flesh there, all the while fucking your cunt with his middle and ring finger of his other hand. The harsh line of pain and pleasure had you floating, small whimpers escaping your lips as Wooyoung gave you something you had not experienced in months.

“Please…” You panted, bucking your hips to meet Wooyoung’s thrusts of his fingers, “More.”

Wooyoung halted both of his hands, pressing one hand to your knee as he turned around to face you. “What else could a miserable ghost of a captain give a lady like you?” His words are gentlemanly but his voice is low and gravelly and sends a shiver down your spine.

You wetted your lips carefully. “Your cock,” you whispered. 

“You women are all the same,” Wooyoung chuckled, “Go on, precious, get on your hands and knees for me. Prepare yourself for my cock.”

Your body almost moved on its own, offering your ass to the ghost captain like you were all his. “Fuck me, Wooyoung,” You whined.

Yeosang, your dead husband, who had set fire to your mansion and almost killed you in the process, slowly began to fade to the far recesses of your mind. The ghost of him haunted you during the day and during the night. But the minute that Wooyoung pushed and grunted, and squeezed his way into your cunt, he dismissed the mental ghost of yours. His cold fingers dug into your hips, the slap of his thighs against your ass a welcome relief to the hotness of your body. The more cold reality Wooyoung brought to you, the further away your demons were driven. 

“Such a divine creature,” Wooyoung praised you. He raised your body so it was flush with his; his chest to your back. His fingers found the burn marks on your body and he traced them with awe. Wooyoung could find no flaw in you, especially the way your cunt took his thrusts. 

“Wooyoung,” You whispered as he kissed the nape of your neck. 

“I can give you the release you need,” Wooyoung promised, tongue sweeping along the skin behind your ear before carefully taking the lobe of your ear between his teeth. 

Wooyoung can’t come, of course, he’s a ghost, but he swore it was as if his dick was alive for you. He didn’t care if he couldn't truly feel your pussy walls clenching down on him. He could hear the moans dropping from your lips and he believed he had discovered his newfound purpose in his afterlife. “I’ll take over this ship again. I’ll make it a ghost ship with a ghost crew. And you will be my figurehead, the lady of the ship. I will bring you untold pleasure and steal all the treasure in the seven seas to drape along your body. And you will remain in my cabin, in my bed, with my head between your legs, my body for your satisfaction.” Wooyoung promised to lay the world at your feet, and after what you had endured, you found that perhaps you’d rather someone burn the world down for you then burn your world down around you.

Wooyoung continued his tirade, fucking you so well, the drag of his cock against your walls pushing you towards a release you had not known you so desperately needed.

“I'll revive the pirate era and I'll make you the queen of the pirates and all will know you for the way you are spoiled. No one would dare look at you in fear I would cut them down.” Your cries were starting to crescendo, so Wooyoung slipped his finger between your outer lips and circled your clit. “I will give you the world for simply making me feel alive again,” Wooyoung whispered almost like a prayer in thanks.

You came, and hard, finally screaming for Wooyoung. He clamped a chilly hand over your mouth so as to not alert anyone of your carnal affairs in his cabin. That secret could come out later, but not before he attempted to lick your cunt and see if he couldn't help that haunted look in your eyes leave permanently.

Special thanks once again to @starlitmark for helping me make such pretty pretty posts for my revenge month!

[lilacwrite]

"In due time."

Wasn't it so convenient- you, neuvillette and an empty court room?

What seemed like an usual,boring afternoon in Fontaine, turned out to be the most exciting day you've ever had at work. Or in your life, for that matter.

You walked to the Palais Mermonia as usual to assist Monsieur Neuvillette since you were his new secretary. It wasn't a hard job but.. it wasn't an easy one either. The thing is it didn't come with a particular set of rules or any particular tasks for that matter. You were working for a week already, not sure if you're doing things right or not. He's always buried in paperwork or running around doing some errands, which probably were your job. But you didn't think Neuvillette knew that, leaving you to sit on the couch sipping tea in his office all day.

Deciding to take matters into your own hands, you go to see Neuvillette in his office only for the nice melusine outside to let you know that Monsieur is not in his office at the moment but you're welcome to wait. You smile politely and refuse the melusine's offer to go look for Neuvillette by yourself. As his secretary, you were supposed to have his schedule, buy his lunch, help ease his work. But all this needed communication between the two and right now you don't even know where he was. Walking around all over Fontaine you finally found him, at the Opera House, sitting in his chair and looking over an empty court room. "Monsieur?" you whisper gently, not wanting to scare him by accident. Neuvillette jumps a little at the sudden noise then salutes you and invites you up, beside him.

"What troubles your mind, Monsieur?" He lowers his gaze, thinking before answering you. "This...is where I got my powers back, fully restored. And... I can't help but wonder..." He looks you in the eyes before asking "Am I making the right choices? Am I leading the people of Fontaine right?" his gaze is filled with doubt and he almost looks scared. You take a step towards him and taking his hand, you answer " I might not know the pressure of being the Iudex, but I know for sure that it's okay to feel scared or uncertain. It shows how much you care for your people and rest assure that you're making the best decisions. You're intelligent, highly educated and you learned to understand humans better than they understand themselves. And this is why I'm here, Monsieur. To help ease your work, to share your burdens and make sure that at the end of the day you're more at ease and relaxed." He gently smiles as you feel the atmosphere changing, realizing you're still holding his hand. Clearing your throat you add "Ahem, but in order to do that, we need to communicate. I need you to speak with me and I think this moment was a great first step. The next step should probably be you giving me your schedule, Monsieur."

Now you made the stoic Iudex actually giggle as he nods in agreement with all that you just said. "I appreciate your help and the fact that you were willing to take this job. You were the only one to show up at what was supposed to be an interview." This time it was your turn to giggle, unsure what to say, but Neuvillette wasn't done. "I'm glad it was you."

Thinking for a second, he continues "Maybe I should interview you since you're not from around here. Where did you say you were from again? Liyue? And I need a list of your previous jobs along with other qualifications you might have." You turn around on your heels ready to go, giggling that only now after a week he is interested in your qualifications.

Neuvillette catches your wrist and you turn around to look at him confused. His eyes are mesmerizing, ocean blue that you could get lost in even with a compass. A strain of his messy caught hair on his face, begging you to caress his face and put it behind his ear. "Monsieur..?" you ask uncertain and regretting immediately when he moved his warm hand away. "Pardon me, but you just left my questions unanswered and I have to admit that you fascinate me." Smiling you take a small step forward and say "In due time." And turn around,leaving Neuvillette more confused than ever "I will answer all your questions in due time, Monsieur. But i believe it's time we head back and you need to introduce me to your- our work."

He catches up to you in two steps, offering his arm for you to take "Let's walk together. It's more pleasant this way and we can have a little conversation on our way back." His expression is almost as stoic as ever, but there's a hint of softness in his gaze that feels meant just for you that warms your heart a little.

Smiling you nod and accept his offer, ready for the scandal the two of you will stir all around Fontaine.

[nikoniclove]

Hi, I hope this message finds you well. I wanted to share a bit about where I am currently, along with a few requests for stories.

Lately, I’ve been feeling incredibly isolated. While I have friends, I often struggle to feel like any of them truly care about me. There are times when I just wish someone would reach out, ask if I’m okay, or offer some kind of comfort without me having to ask for it. 

It feels like I have been silently drowning, hoping someone will notice, even when I can’t find the words to say it. I’ve been going through many personal struggles, yet it seems like no one can see past the facade of being okay that I put on everyday—not even my family. I’m not great at expressing my emotions, and I’ve kept everything bottled up for most of my life. I cry a lot, but always in private. It feels like I’ve been emotionally overlooked for as long as I can remember, which is why your stories mean so much to me. The trio’s care for one another provides a sense of emotional connection that I often feel is missing from my life. It’s a rare comfort, and I find solace in their bond.

I appreciate how you weave song lyrics into your stories. For years, I’ve kept a journal where I write down my favorite song lyrics, as they often express emotions I struggle to articulate. I keep a collection of my favorite quotes from Criminal Minds, as they reflect my ongoing quest to better understand both myself and the world. Here are some of my favorites:

Reid: “The question that sometimes drives me hazy: Am I or the others crazy?”

Reid: “Men are not prisoners of fate, but only prisoners of their own minds.”

Hotch: “Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside of us while we live.”

Rossi: “Illusion is needed to disguise the emptiness within.”

I tend to be a deep thinker, sometimes to the point where it feels unsettling. No one around me seems to share my way of thinking, and I find myself enjoying time alone, contemplating life’s complexities. I am constantly lost in thought, carrying the weight of the world inside my head. While I am not suicidal, I do sometimes wish I could escape from it all. I think that’s part of the reason I spend so much time lost in the solitude of my own mind. The idea of escaping the overwhelming noise is comforting, even if I know it’s not an option. I truly believe that nothing is more devastating than the death of an illusion; it’s often these illusions that help us stay sane and give us something to hold onto.

I’ve worked hard to create a life that looks good on paper. I’m a dedicated student with a 4.0 GPA, and I’m in excellent physical shape. I’m generally liked by most people, and I’m often told I have a good life. But despite all of this, I still feel this deep emptiness inside. It’s as though no matter what I achieve, it doesn’t fill the void. It’s hard to make sense of the outward success and how I feel on the inside.

And then there’s the guilt I feel for thinking this way. I know I have so much to be grateful for—a good life, supportive friends, and opportunities others might not have. But despite all that, I still feel this deep emptiness. It’s hard to make sense of these feelings, and I often feel like I’m failing to appreciate what I have because I can’t escape this darkness inside.

Sometimes, I can’t help but feel small and insignificant in the grand scheme of the world. It’s as if, no matter how much I do or accomplish, I’m just a fleeting speck in a vast, uncaring universe. The weight of that realization can be overwhelming, making me question my purpose and reason to live. The emptiness inside sometimes feels even more intense in the face of such insignificance.

There’s also a part of me that scares me—this tendency I have to always find flaws in people, to the point where I struggle to look past them. I often wonder if I expect too much from others, or if it’s because I have such a deep need for connection and understanding. No one ever seems to meet those expectations, and I feel like I’m constantly pushing people away without even meaning to. I also feel like no one has ever really known me, or at least, no one understands the depth of who I am. I’m not sure anyone ever could.

Your stories, while comforting, sometimes make me sad because I fear I’ll never find someone who loves me the way JJ and Emily love Ace. There are times when I don’t feel lovable at all, and I’m scared of how much I enjoy staying confined to my own mind.

Sometimes, it feels like I’m so numb that I’m simultaneously feeling too much and not enough at the same time. The emotions are overwhelming, yet distant, and I can’t quite connect to them. It’s as if I’m constantly on the edge of something, but never fully experiencing it. I feel deeply, but it doesn’t seem to reach me in a way that makes sense or brings any comfort. The numbness makes everything confusing, as if I’m trapped between extremes, unable to escape the chaos in my mind.

Now, as for my requests:

Request 1: A man attempts to physically force themselves on Ace (Ace freezes in the moment), and Emily and JJ eventually step in to protect her, kicking the man’s ass. The negative, non-consensual touch causes Ace to suddenly remember everything that happened to her in Qatar (vivid flashbacks). Overwhelmed by the memories, she isolates herself from JJ and Emily, becoming fearful of their touch due to the trauma of the past. The trio has to rebuild their trust from the ground up, with Ace struggling through numerous panic attacks and safewording out of certain situations, as she grapples with her fear of touch.

Request 2: Ace reaches the lowest point in her mental health and decides to end her life. She leaves a note for JJ and Emily and attempts to carry out her plan. However, she decides to answer JJ and Emily’s call, and they talk her down from a bridge, giving her a reason to live and convincing her to keep fighting. The rest of the story follows the aftermath as the three of them sort through their feelings.

Request 3: Ace believes she is unlovable and ends her relationship with the trio (towards the beginning/middle of their relationship), telling them that she feels their relationship is no longer working as a mask for her true feelings. Emily and JJ desperately try to win her back, but Ace continues to push them away until she has a breakdown.

Request 4: Instead of Emily faking her death, Ace is forced to fake her own death to save the rest of the team. Emily and JJ believe Ace is dead and must learn to live without her. Ace returns months later to find the duo struggling with their grief.

Request 5: Emily makes a mistake that causes a fight between her and Ace. Emily must work hard to repair their relationship and rebuild their connection.

Note: I would particularly love to see more of the emotional bond between Emily and Ace. While JJ often supports Ace’s mental health, I’d love to see Emily play a more prominent role in helping Ace through her struggles.

I apologize for the long ramble, but it felt good to finally express how I’m feeling. I would really appreciate it if you considered writing these stories. Also, thank you for always approaching topics with such care and kindness. The compassion I feel through your writing makes me feel heard and less alone. I wish you the best.

Thank you for listening.

First of all, hi. I’m happy to listen. No judgement here. My DMs are always open too by the way.

A lot of what you’re describing sounds like passive suicidality. Been there, done that, so once again, DMs are open if you want someone to listen.

It would be remiss of me to not recommend therapy, and I know that doesn’t always work (or is not always available).

Feeling numb is by far the most confusing thing I’ve felt, and 2 decades into therapy, it’s something I still struggle with, so I hear you.

I’ll add the requests to the ongoing list. Thanks for taking the time to write out your thoughts and ideas.

Always here to listen. 💜

[stinmybubs]

“Jewelry Box.” FANTASY AU Pt.2

AN: I love this concept too much I need to write more.

Summary: Fighting to succeed to the throne, you do everything in your power to become the next ruler of the Caataeta Empire. Even if meant cursing yourself with a power that secures your throne. You wish for no lover, just people you can help you chip away the curse that's killing you, and to secure your empire. You need husbands, wives. A Jewelry Box.

AFAB! Reader x a series of characters.

Pt.1

You’ve never been more livid in your life. You didn’t want to be married off to a kingdom you’ve never been to! You wanted to rule over the nations. You wanted to call the shots.

Your anger clouded your judgement. “Momo…I’m going to the dungeons. Make sure no one follows.” You hiss, glaring at the innocent black haired girl. Worry was painted all over her face as she opened her mouth ti pro protest but you simply hurried past her.

Oh (Y/n)…please don’t do anything rash. Momo thought, looking at your figure with dismay.

You knew exactly how to secure yourself the thrown. You needs a higher power, you needed to be stronger then the men that are thing you down.

You needed magic. Magicians a rarely ever turned away from empires or kingdoms, they can always do how they please having their own tower all to themselves. You, only held little magic, but you knew an old ancient rule of the imperial family.

You were able to connect yourself with a greater curse, then you could secure yourself the thrown. I must. I have to. No matter the cost I must secure the throne. You slammed the dungeon door open, looking around the damp, and dark stairs.

Momo simply handed you the torch, you refused to let her come down with you. She waved you off with much worry, watching your figure disappear down the spiral stairs.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs you approach the cell rooms, simply glancing in each room before you settle before the giant gate door beneath the castle walls. This is where the imperial family magicians are trained, and this is where you’ll summon the tortured souls of the imperial magicians.

You grabbed a dagger off the weopnary walls, hovering it over your hand thinking of where to cut. You didn’t want to kill yourself, simply sacrifice an amount of your blood. So you cut into your arm.

Watching the blood drizzle out your arm, a faint feeling coming over you. But you stand there strong, watching the Stoney floor cracks be filled with blood and it slowly flow throughout the floor.

“Bring me the damned souls of the imperial family! I give you blood! I give you my life!” You cry, trying your best to stand tall.

There was a flicker, then another. Then whirling, screaming souls of the damned family, reaching out for you. You felt no fear, for your desire for the throne was greater than no other.

“Give me your curse! Give me the power of the throne!” You shout at the screaming whirl of smoke and boney-hands reaching for you. The only thing that scared you was the familiar voice.

Your mother.

“Do you understand what accepting the imperial curse will do?” A tear. A singular tear sheds from your eyes as the voice cancels out any noise. You saw her hand, her golden hand teacher for you. Your mother peaked from the middle of the smoke, she was like a golden spirit trying to stop you.

“You will no longer feel pain. You will no longer feel love. You will no longer feel regret. You will be the vessel of the damned.”

You could feel the warmth of your mothers hand on your cheek. Listening to her words carefully.

“Yes mother! I’ve worked so hard! I’ve done so much, I’ve SACRIFICED so much. I deserve the throne. I am the rightful crown of the Caataeta Empire!” You let all your pain out, you grieve in your mothers hand, sharing all that has wronged you.

“My poor daughter…go change this world. Change you destiny.” Your mother was sucked away from you. Tears streaming down your face. In a blink of an eye the smoke flew out you. But you felt…normal?

It only lasted a minute until your body started to pulsate in pain. Your through starting to clog with blood and vomit. Your eyes began to itch and sting. You I’m Iida tell drop to your knees scratching at the floor trying to embrace the pain.

You tried screaming, you tried making any noise. You reach for the door. Am I dying..? You think, a flash of Momo’s face coming into your mind, your heart began to race. I can’t. You let the mixture of blood and vomit spill from your mouth onto the floor.

Your noticed all your blood for the summoning had already gone. Could you really handle the curse? Your frail body..? Are you really this….weak.

You hold your throat, feeling your eyes begin to tire. No. You can’t faint. You can’t die. You must do as your mother said. You must save yourself, change this world.

Slowly, you began to pick yourself back up. Your desire taking over the pain as you walked yourself out the imperial magician room. You didn’t even look back. The pain was fading, as you walked up the stairs you felt lighter. Relieved?

As you open the dungeon doors Momo greater you with a smile. But soon it was replaced with a look of horror and worry. “(Y-y/n)! Your dress! Your eyes! What happened?” She quickly came to your aid wrapping your arm around her shoulders.

“I’m fine. No need to worry Momo.” This was weird. You didn’t feel anything when you saw her, not like you normally do, youve always felt at ease and at home with Momo. But now…

You felt nothing.

A couple of days has passed and you hadn’t left your room, simply staring at the wall. You’ve noticed a change in your appearance, that being your eyes. A giant red x had painted over your eyes, but you could see perfectly fine.

“Strange…” you murmur, lifting yourself off your bed and to your vanity. You felt nothing, no beauty, no confidence. Nothing.

“Mother was right…as always.” You stare at yourself for a brief moment, just sitting in silence staring at your room door.

The door finally opened revealing Momo with a tray of tasty treats. But you still felt nothing. You were usually excited for tasty treats such as these. “(Y/n)…are you doing well?” She worriedly placed the tray on your tea table. “You haven’t told me to help you get ready…you haven’t left your room…and…” she looked like she was about to cry?

“I’m fine Momo…”you really were. But you just didn’t know what to do, or how to feel anymore.

Why did I do this again…? You question yourself, it was lying staring into the abyss your mind was blank. Ah…yes…I remember. The throne. You didn’t feel the anger anymore, but you still wished for this power.

“Momo, you can stop worrying. Help me get dressed for an audience with the king.” You give her a gentle smile to ease her worries. Momo was happy to help you get ready. You could see her smile, which you always thought was beautiful. But you can’t feel it anymore.

“(Y/n)!? What have you done daughter !” The imperial father shouted, his look of horror upon seeing his daughter.

“What father? Never seen the imperial curse before?” You smirk crosses your face, you loved seeing his horrified face. A sense of satisfaction writhed over you. You finally felt something after days. You felt the sweet taste of victory.

“You look like a demon! No la-“ you quickly approach him. Faster than you thought because you were gone from your spot in a instant.

“This secures the throne…as in the imperial records and law.” You state, looking down on your own father. “I expect my coronation tomorrow, and my imperial brother thrown in prison. Or even killed.” You smirk seeing your fathers face contort in fear.

“You cannot do this! I am the-“ you cut him off, your red x glowing brighter as he started choking. How satisfying. You think letting the man breath after a moment.

“Announce it. Good day father I shall excuse myself.” You curtsy, and make your way back to Momo, in which she nodded to you and followed behind you.

“You still must meet with the Todoroki prince! (Y/n) one last request from your father!” He yelled across the room, holding his neck.

“I supposed I should…let’s host a ball then!” You clap your hands enthusiastically. Of course you felt nothing about it. You need to put on an act of emotion!

“Is this tight enough princess?” Momo questioned, tightening your corset has always been a hassle, you used to hate the pain of not being able to breath in it.

“It’s fine Momo.” You smile gently at her, at least you could no longer feel the pain of corsets.

The ball was dull. Nothing interesting caught your eye, until the announcement of prince Todoroki of course, he to your surprise was quiet young and handsome. Maybe even the same age as you.

You lift yourself up from your throne, your father had an ugly smile on his face sitting in your soon to be throne. Watching as the red and white haired boy approached you, kneeling to kiss your hand.

“Care for a dance..?” His face was stoic, almost no emotion. You simply nod and let him lead.

“How do you feel about this engagement prince Todoroki?” You ask, knowing he probably wouldn’t want this either since he might have a lover. “I don’t mind it…I think it would be a great alliance.” He states matter of factly. Boring, but cute. You think as you two continue to dance.

“How do you feel about this arrangement your imperial highness?” His question seems to be more curious and genuine. “I don’t wish for it of course. But I’ll consider it once I am empress.” You state.

“Empress? Oh yes I heard you were now crown princess, my apologies.” The silence on Todoroki’s end was awkward, but for you it was nothing.

The silence continued until you two had ended the dance, bowing to one another. You made your way to the balcony to feel the cool air. This usually would’ve made you more relaxed but you still felt nothing. “Ah…would I have been happy…? To wed such a young man and join his court?” You stare at the stars. Wondering if you had done the right thing.

“You never know…” the familiar stoic voice of prince Shouto wouldve startled you normally. “No one is ever happy with arranged marriages. Especially my parents…but none of us can change it.” He stated plainly, taking his place next to you on there balcony.

“You are a very beautiful women, you could get any suitor you want especially in your position.” He was very correct, you had everything. Looks, smarts. But what was it all for if you couldn’t succeed the throne?

“I guess you could be right…but why wed someone for position? Especially you shouldn’t want this…since your parents seem so unhappy.” You state back, putting arm under your chin.

“I shouldn’t…especially when my father drove my mother so crazy…she poured boiling hot water onto my face.” He covered the scar that covered a part of his face. “No one would marry something like this…” he looked back at the stars.

“Well I think scars are beautiful…it shows how strong someone can be…it shows the battles someone has been through…mentally and physically.” You look at the boy, making slight eye contact with him.

“And a scar doesn’t define who you are.” You turn on your heel and walk back into the full ballroom.

Leaving that handsome boy a bit dumbfounded.

AN: TEEHEE!!! Two in one day!! This story has me in a chokehold.

[frostfro]

Chapter 6

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You sat there completely bored, as you eyed your people all lined up millions lined up to give you gifts on the day you were born into this world.

It was a special day, yes, you were not fond of being dotted on, you couldn't stand it, you wanted to rip out your insides at the idea of being an icon and a trophy. They didn't think of you as some sort of actual being with feelings did they?

You don't know and you don't think that you ever will.

“Thank you for your protection Kemono of the Divine Beasts!”

“Thank you for your blessing!”

“Thank you!”

“Thank you!”

Many people lined up and said Thank you and left a gift over and over.

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The gift giving was soon to an and you were quick to stand up from your divine throne.

Blonde hair was met in the corner of your eyes already knowing whom it is.

“Yes Dain what is it?”

“My lady sorry to intrude on your special day but there seems to be a mild intruder.”

Intruder?

That makes your ears perk up and your tail sway with curiosity and excitement.

“We will take care of-”

“Nonsense I'll do it, it will only be a minute.”

His face widened as he persisted.

“Nonsense my lady, someone of your caliber doesn't need to trivialize herself with such petty matters.”

You smiled at him causing him to easily get flustered.

“It is fine, please watch over everything until my return, yes?”

He quickly nodded his head, returning back stoic.

You took a step and your light strides and the soft pats of your feet echoed in the long halls of your castle.

Your long creamy white transparent train of your dress flowed down dragging on the floor as your top barely could hold your breasts together barely leaving any coverage.

The golden earrings and necklace and waist jewelry twinkling and jingling with each step.

Your bottom not leaving to any imagination either and they rose up along your plush thighs.

Your hair long and luxurious flowed due to the immense amount of power you were resonating.

Along with the fluffy pairs of ears and the thick long tail coming out from your body only made you stand out.

The hair pen you wore stood out making you fit for your title the goddess of the Divine Beasts.

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You made your way outside warm grass tickling your feet as you look around.

You don't see anything nor sense anything either.

Your land took place high above in the sky all islands connect were floating ones so intruders were damn near impossible for any ordinary person.

Unless…

You heard a rumbling near some bushes.

Your ears perk up as you tilted your face up slightly to intake a few breaths of sniffs.

You walk steadily towards the noise, you peel the leaves back fast to spot nothing?

“Looking for me?”

Your eyes widen as you turn your head around in one swift motion.

Your brows furrowed as you took in what you were seeing.

A young man on the lean side with big bright turquoise eyes and his hair in two braids you noticed the hue blending in with the natural color of his hair.

He had a white Hoodie with huge wings protruding from his back.

You stepped back a bit observing his features and wondering what the next move should be.

“What do you think you're doing your trespassing?”

You said calm and firm.

But the boy seemed unphased by your statements

“Oh? I parton me it's just I've heard do much the rumors said a majestic beautiful being lived and ruled up here I couldn't help but look as the curious fellow I am.”

“And the rumors were right indeed.”

You scoffed.

“Listen I don't know where you came from but your little jests don't work on me now get before I'll have to move you myself.”

You stood your ground.

He walked closer to you, now having a better look he was maybe 2 inches shorter than you he didn't even seem like he was scared of you.

Most people would take one look and haul ass it probably takes less!

“Who are you?”

He smirked.

“Barbatos.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Speak Not

Epilogue for Sweet Treats AU: by character | chronological | epilogues

Warnings: these drabbles will include dark elements such as noncon, control, intimidation, and other stuff that may not be specified. Take this as you chance to scroll by.

Note: here we go.

Please let me know what you think <3

🧁🧁🧁

Thor’s thunderous snores rumble from behind you. You sleep as you have every night since you unveiled his deception. Since you escaped your foolish shroud of naivety. Back to him, teetering on the edge of the bed, no matter how perilous it felt.

You don’t sleep, not much, and when you do doze, you wake as you nearly tip onto the floor. His rolling rhythm assures you of safety, if he’s not awake, he can’t hurt anyone. Or you.

Carefully, you sit up. It’s been the best day you’ve had in a while, getting to see Darling, helping her in the kitchen, hanging out and forgetting that constant tide of dread. Now it’s back to the usual. The dark nights made more ominous in his presence.

You keep your hands on the mattress as you lift yourself off it, trying to limit the jostle as you stand. You drag yourself away completely and peer around into the shadows. You know you can’t go far, not even beyond these walls. Yet you need sleep and you won’t get that next to him.

You go to the settee, with its curled feet and embroidered cushion, and ball yourself up with a tasseled pillow under your head. You hug yourself and nestle in close to the hardback, let your eyes close and your muscles drain of tension. Just a few hours and you’ll sneak back to the bed.

Your vow to maintain the order is the last thought you have. Fatigue grips you and pulls you down deep, into that swirling, irresistible depth of sleep where even your thoughts are obscured. It is only your body and its hunger for rest, finally sated and drowning in the glut.

🧁

You snort yourself awake. You’re on your back, one arm splayed over the edge of the settee as the other is curled above your head. Your lashes snap open as you come too, senses slapping you across the face. 

The smell of the early morning chill nipping at the windows and crawling into the air, raising bumps along your skin. The noise of winds rattling panes and whistling through unseen cracks. And the frightening sight of the beast before you, puffing down at you as he glares above crossed arms.

Your limbs are heavy as you plant your hands down and push yourself up to sit. You turn on the cushion and look up at Thor as he issues a disappointed sigh. You see his anger brewing in his pale blue irises, along with a trickle of concern.

“Am I so repulsive to you? My own wife?” He growls as your eyes wander down to his bulging muscles and the strength flowing through his pulsing veins.

You shrug and dip your chin down. No matter how you hate him, he scares you, and you are as helpless as you ever were. Before him and after him.

“Pet,” he shifts and gets to his knees with a grunt, placing his hands lightly on your knees, “please, I cannot bear it any longer. The silence…”

You avert your gaze and stare at the wall. A pattern of moon and stars printed upon the paper. You focus on that instead.

“I am your king, your husband, you will speak to me,” he squeezes above your knees and you flinch. You put your hands on his and try to shove them off only for him to tangle his fingers in yours. “I command you.”

You bat your lashes as your eyes glisten. You tug at his grasp but cannot escape. Just as you cannot free yourself from his power.

“Please,” he raises your hands and kisses your knuckles, electric tingles coursing from where his lips touch, “please, my pet, I only did what must be done. For you. For us.”

You scrunch up your face in a silent snarl and rip your hands away from his. You fold your arms against your chest and drop your eyes to the intricate embroidery of the arm rest. Another huff rises from his lungs.

“Wife!” He exclaims and grabs your chin, his large chin easily framing half your face as he makes you look at him. He squeezes until your eyes round with fear. Perhaps he will break you completely. 

He retracts his hand and stretches his fingers wide. He looks at them, then back to you. He makes the signs you know, the ones you taught him. That secret you shared with him even as he held one from you.

You shake your head and shove his hands down. You don’t want to hear him. None of it. He has no right to speak to you. 

He recoils as if you’ve hurt him. As if you ever could. As if you were any match to him. That is what pains you most, knowing how easy it was for him to deceive you. 

He latches onto your wrists before you can drop your hands and he stands, forcing you up with him. You quiver and jut out your jaw as you stare him in the face. Defiant. Like those other girls. The ones who got away. You may be trapped but you won’t be the weak creature he thinks you are.

“I suppose,” he pulls your arms above you, trapping your wrists in a single hand, “that you needn’t speak much…” He reaches to the top of your nightshirt with his other hand, tracing the frill there before gripping it, “to be a wife and do your duty.”

He rents the fabric easily and you wince. You quake but do not look away. No, you will not turn a blind eye anymore. You will witness and remember his misdeeds so that you will never succumb to him again.

[anhed-nia]

PS I almost saw IN A VIOLENT NATURE for the first time at an open air screening on Governor's Island, a popular NYC destination for outdoor entertainment and close-to-home glamping. I thought that was a great idea, but ultimately I skipped it because I wanted to see the film for the first time without the light pollution and ambient noise. They made this cool graphic for it, though...which immediately triggered comments section controversy about AI.

The social media person replied that the image was not AI-generated; though the "scene" does not take place in the movie, it is a photograph of a person wearing the screen costume, just doing something fun on Governor's Island to advertise their cool event. No matter what your general feelings are about AI in commercial art, we can probably all agree that it sucks that we have to have these onerous arguments about everything now.

For me, and I think for anyone who enjoys visual art, the medium matters--not because of some imaginary hierarchy of importance, but because different media have different effects, traditions, and implications. And because, with respect to AI, the statement "This really happened!" and the question "Wouldn't it be cool IF this really happened?" inspire very different responses. My personal, casual feeling is that AI art is OK as long as it is easily identifiable as such; like I've seen some really fun AI images whose particular kind of outrageousness makes appropriate use of that specific medium. I'm a "right tool, right job" person, I think some things should be paintings and some things should be photos, some things should be stage plays and some things should be movies. You should carefully choose your medium and exploit the unique qualities of that medium based on exactly what you're trying to accomplish. For this reason I think that AI images that are just trying to fake the effects of i.e. painting or photography kind of suck. And related to that I object to living in a world where we all just have to throw up our hands and say "Oh well, there's no way to know anymore whether something is physically-real or whether it's just a hypothetical representation of something that maybe-could-be real, I guess the only thing we can do is not give a shit about where anything comes from or how it got here and what that all means." For me, "There's no way to ever know anything for sure so who fucking cares" is not an acceptable default setting. (And I realize this is becoming the central issue of our day due to all kinds internet-enabled misinformation and I'm treading on the hem of a way bigger topic here, but never mind all that now...)

But still, I find myself just as annoyed with fakery as I am with people who instantly declare something to be fake. Frankly I think those guys are just scared of being fooled and so they're trying to preserve their own sense of superiority by declaring everything to be fake before they have any evidence one way or the other. This is a very different thing in its consequences, I know, but some of these guys sound just like the bigots who go around trying to clock random strangers as trans; they always have these ridiculous lists of "evidence" that turn out to be just as applicable to afab and amab people as they are to people who have transitioned. It's all roughly the same flavor of defensiveness from people who are scared of being tricked into believing or feeling something that will turn out to be a fraud. And I can sympathize with that to some degree, I don't wanna be tricked into believing in, for instance, awesome-looking photo shoots that never happened; like if you said it wouldn't matter to you if the photos Thierry Mugler shot on top of the Chrysler Building turned out to be digital fakes, then I would happily call you a liar. But what I really hate more than anything right now is this immediate effect where as soon as anything cool-looking appears online, we all have to have these contentious arguments where insecure jerks pound their chests about how un-foolable they are...and sometimes it turns out that the "AI art" is real and so their claims to amazing powers of perception are a big embarrassment. I guess my conclusion is that if everyone agreed to make AI imagery clearly identifiable in some way, then we could all stop having our good time spoiled by this paranoid bickering that has become the prerequisite for enjoying anything. But that's probably an impossible dream.