#and wanting it so badly more than anything

[hardly-an-escape]

inspired by this gorgeous art by @newtkelly 🌹💕

It's just a normal Tuesday. They're about two hours out from the end of their shift and Buck is upstairs in the kitchen, finishing up the dinner dishes, when Chimney's voice floats up from the floor below.

"Hey, uh... hey Buck? I think you have a visitor."

He sounds a little weird, almost like he's trying to hide something. Buck frowns and grabs a dishtowel. "Be right down," he calls back.

He hops down the last few steps, rounds the front of an engine at a jog, opens his mouth to ask what's going on and �� stops dead.

Tommy is standing in the middle of the ambulance bay, feet planted like he's expecting someone to come along and shove him out the big garage doors – and from the slightly murderous glare Eddie is throwing his way, it might be a valid concern. He's wearing a cream colored Henley and his hair is tousled, a couple artful locks falling over his brow.

But what stops Buck in his tracks – what roots his boots to the floor and makes his mouth drop slightly open – are the flowers.

Tommy's arms are absolutely overflowing with roses. There's got to be at least two dozen, maybe even three, wrapped in classic brown paper with a bright ribbon holding it closed. They're full and perfectly opened and a deep, rich red, with a handful of pink and white carnations scattered through the bouquet that, rather than distracting from the roses, just make them look even more luxurious by comparison.

"Hey," Tommy says. "Happy Valentine's Day, Evan. Can we talk?"

Buck spends at least two and a half seconds fruitlessly opening and closing his mouth.

"Valentine's Day isn't until Friday," is what eventually comes out. He can practically hear Eddie's eye roll from behind him.

One corner of Tommy's mouth lifts in a tight little smile. "I know," he says. "But this is the day I knew for sure you'd be on shift, so."

"Oh. Right," Buck says stupidly.

"These are for you." Tommy hefts the armful of roses and Buck automatically steps forward to take them. His fingers brush the backs of Tommy's hands as he does so.

He could swear he feels a spark. Maybe it's just static electricity. But Tommy's eyes widen minutely, so he must feel it too, whatever it is.

"You, uh. You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah. Yes." Tommy clears his throat. Buck is intensely aware of the fact that they have an audience. Eddie is still frowning, Chim is doing a very bad job pretending he's not hanging on every word they say, and even Bobby has paused what he was doing to lean too-casually against a wall, arms folded and carefully neutral expression on his face. "I have thought... so much about what I want to say to you. I've gone around and around, telling myself if I could just find the right words, I could make you understand. And then telling myself I haven't even earned the right to try." Tommy takes a deep breath. "It shouldn't have taken me so long to get my shit together and come talk to you. You deserved better than that, Evan. But I... I'm here now."

"I'm listening," Buck says. He's glad he can hold the flowers, because he doesn't know what to do with his hands. Tommy seems to be having the same problem; he clasps them awkwardly in front of himself, then unclasps them, then goes to shove them in his pockets and seems to change his mind, rubbing them briefly against his hips instead.

"Thank you. Thank you for being willing to listen," he says. "I... I never found exactly the right words. But I know what I want to say. First, I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I fucked up, and I panicked, and I just kept panicking until it felt like it was too late to do anything else. Second, there are still things I hope we can talk about, things I tried to say that night that I couldn't get out right. Stuff about my past, and questions about the future. But most important... Third. I do want a future with you, Evan. Everything you said that night, I want it so... so badly. And it took me walking out to realize that, because I'm an idiot, and a coward, but all I learned by being without you these last couple of months was..."

Tommy trails off. His eyes have never looked so blue. "Was how much I don't want to be without you," he says simply.

There's a long moment of silence. You could hear a pin drop in the firehouse. It's as if everyone in the building is holding their breath. All Buck can see is Tommy – Tommy, with his broad shoulders, and his fidgety hands, and his blue eyes, full of hope and tears.

"Can someone come take these flowers, please?" Buck says over his shoulder, without unlocking his eyes from Tommy's. Chimney comes up behind him and gently takes the bouquet from his hands, stepping back without a word.

Buck takes a step forward. And then another. And then Tommy steps too, and then their arms are wrapped tightly around each other, cheeks pressed together, and it's as if the entire station heaves a sigh of relief.

"You are an idiot," Buck whispers fiercely into Tommy's neck.

"I know."

"This doesn't magically fix the fact that I'm still really mad at you."

"I know, Evan. I will do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I promise."

Buck pulls back far enough to look Tommy in the eye again, and what he sees there reassures every uncertain inch of him: sincerity. Hope. Apology. Even – he dares to hope – love.

He begins to lean back in, but before he can crush his mouth to Tommy's, the bell rings – because of course it does – and the alarm squawks, calling the 118 to a house fire a couple neighborhoods over. Buck reluctantly tears himself loose and heads for the engine.

"Don't you dare leave!" he yells to Tommy, pointing a dramatic finger at him.

"I won't! I'll wait right here for you!" Tommy yells back.

Chim claps Tommy on the shoulder and shoves the bouquet back in his hands as he runs past. The last thing Buck sees before they pull out and round the corner is Tommy's smile, blindingly bright above a cascade of red roses.

[svnriseblvdd]

AND FOR ONCE, YOU LET GO OF YOUR FEARS AND YOUR GHOSTS — dick grayson

hurt/comfort, slight angst (he's okay in the end), love confession, big steps in a relationship. when dick grayson stumbles through his girlfriend's window in the early hours of the morning, she's there to patch him up and listen to all that troubles him.

It’s some time after four in the morning when Dick Grayson finally steps through the window into your apartment. He shouldn’t be here. It’s not fair on you. He knows it’s not, but he can’t help himself. 

He’s silent as he moves across your living room floor, still silent as he opens your bedroom door. He hates that he has to be here. He hates even more the fact that you left your living room window open a crack so he could come in. He’s closed it now, locked it and made sure all the security measures he’d installed for you were in place how they should be. 

He doesn’t want to wake you, doesn’t want to disturb you as you look so peaceful in the comfort of sleep. He doesn’t even need to touch you. Well, he does. But he won’t. Not if it’ll wake you up. 

He just needs to see you. Needs to know you’re safe, alive, breathing, content. He needs to sit in the comfort of the sound of your breathing, the smell of everything that’s so unequivocally you. The detergent on fresh sheets, your shampoo, shower gel, the remnants of your perfume lingering. Even the underlying scent of your worn shoes that just barely creeps through everything else. 

He knows where not to step. Where floor creaks and where there’s little things hellbent on stabbing him in the foot. Not that they’d do a good job through the suit, but he won’t risk it. 

But through all his manoeuvring, he bends just slightly too far the wrong way, and he’s hissing in pain. 

You stir, and hum. He thinks for a moment that maybe it’s okay. Maybe that’s it. Maybe he hasn’t woken you up and ruined your sleep because he’s an idiot. 

But he’s wrong. “Dick?” You mumble. “You there?” 

He winces. Not at the annoying pain in his side, but because now you’re awake. It’s nearly 5:00 AM and you’re awake because he didn’t think. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s okay, honey, go back to sleep.” 

“What time is it?” 

He looks at the clock on your nightstand. The numbers on it glow faintly, almost accusatory. Oh, he knows. 

“4:47,” he replies. “I’m sorry for waking you, baby.” 

You push yourself up, eyes opening properly and taking in the sight of him. Your eyes are soft as you evaluate him, the redness of his cheek as a bruise begins to form, the cut above his eyebrow, the faint glow of the lenses of his mask, which he has yet to take off. “Dick-” 

“Don’t worry about me, baby. I’m okay.” 

You shake your head. “Come here.” 

“’m dirty. You just washed your sheets.” 

“I don’t care.” You stand from the bed, patting it. “Sit. Wait while I get the first aid kit.” 

He gives in, sitting on the edge of the bed and waiting for your return. It’s not a long wait, but every second without you feels like agony. It’s worse than anything that happened tonight. 

When you return, you sink onto the bed next to him, setting the kit down next to you. “Let me see those pretty eyes,” you whisper, lifting the mask from him. His beautiful blue eyes meet yours, and it hurts to see the sadness in them. 

You dab at the cut above his eyebrow with an alcohol-dipped cotton pad. You know that nights like these, he needs time before he can open up about it. So you treat the cut on his brow, the bruise on his cheek. Then you begin pushing his suit down his shoulders and torso. 

“If you wanted me out of my clothes that badly, all you had to do was ask,” he jokes, but it lacks the same tone he usually has. Dick flirts with you all the time. Even now that you’ve been together for almost a year. And he still holds the same charm that he did when you first met, when he first realised his feelings and decided he was going to ‘make a move’. But tonight, he doesn’t hold the same charm or humour in his voice. 

“Dick…” you murmur. He’d spent far too long being valued by Gotham’s social elite and their tabloids only for his looks. He was gorgeous, there was no denying that, he was the most wonderful person you’d ever laid eyes upon. But he was far too used to being a performer, even through his worst times, laying on the charm thick as possible when he had to attend a gala that fell during some of the bad days. 

You get the suit down to his waist, where you let it rest as you evaluate the bruises, cuts and scrapes on his chest and abdomen. 

You begin cleaning a cut on his chest, wondering whether or not it’ll need stitches. “What happened?” 

He shook his head. “Nothing.” At your expression, he sighs. “I just- my head wasn’t in it.” 

“Then where was your head?” You ask, threading the needle. “Hm? Tell me what’s going on, Dick.” 

“I just… don’t know if I’m enough,” he whispers. 

Your expression turns softer still. “What? Dick, of course you are. You’re more than enough. If you ask me, you’re more than most of this city deserves.” He sniffs, still trying to hold in the tears. “Do you want me to numb it before I start the stitches?” 

He shakes his head. “No. No, I can take it. It’s okay.” 

You begin to sew the cut shut, back and forth, back and forth. It’s muscle memory by now, the number of times you’d stitched him up after a rough night. Never like this, though. Usually, even when he’d taken worse beatings, he could still crack jokes easily and he’d still lay on that Dick Grayson charm. Not tonight. 

When you’re done, you lean down, placing soft kisses along the edge. You cover over a graze on his side, the one he’d irritated earlier that had led to you waking up. 

“I’m sorry for waking you,” he says, voice heavy with regret and despair. 

“It’s okay.” 

“It’s not okay. It’s not. You have work.” 

You shake your head. “No, I don’t. I’m taking the day off. Want to spend time with you.” 

“You don’t have to do that. You shouldn’t. I’m not worth it.” 

“You’re more than worth it, honey. Besides, I’ve had it booked since last week, so I can’t just take it back.” You reach up with one hand to cup his face, tilting his head to look at you. His eyes are filled with tears. “Oh, Dick, sweetheart.” 

He breaks then. The tears spill over, and he collapses into your hold, your arms wrapping around him. He smells of blood, sweat, dirt, and smoke, but you don’t care one bit. You’ll hold him forever if that’s what he needs. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, over and over again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He lets out a sob. “I’m sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, my love,” you assure him. “I promise you, that you’re more than enough. Do you trust me?” He nods. “Then trust that I’m telling you the truth.” 

“Sometimes, it feels like I’m falling and I won’t ever stop.” 

“I know, honey. But I’m here to catch you. I’ll always be here. You do so much for this city, for your team, your family, me. You work so hard, honey, and I know that it’s difficult. And I know you don’t feel like it’s enough sometimes but it is. You’re so good, Dick. You bring hope, safety, happiness. I know it’s a lot of responsibility, but you shoulder it so well. I just wish you didn’t feel like you had to take on everything. Sometimes you need a break, and that’s okay.” 

“But who else protects Bludhaven?” 

“That’s the problem, Dick. You take care of this all by yourself.” 

“Bruce protected Gotham by himself.” 

“Bruce hadn’t been Batman for nearly as long before you came along. Besides, he’s had help for years now. You handle Bludhaven, you still help in Gotham, you run the Titans. Hell, you help the Justice League from time to time. Even Bruce has bad times too. Even Batman struggles with his responsibilities. Both of you have yourselves convinced that you have to take on all this responsibility and pressure because if you don’t, you’re not worthy of love. But even with all that, neither of you think you’re enough. And I love you for your heroism and your courage and your goodness. I really do, but you need days off. You need time to just be Dick Grayson. Not Nightwing, not the Wayne heir, not the socialite the tabloids love. Just Dick. The same one who I fell for.” 

He stops sniffling for a few seconds, just breathing irregularly. “You love me?” He whispers then, breaking the silence. He pulls back, your arms falling loosely to his sides. You hadn’t realised you’d said it. 

“Yes,” you whisper back. “Yeah, I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he says, hands cupping your face. “So much.” 

You smile, and it’s the first time tonight that he’s smiled and it’s felt genuine. He kisses you, softly, lovingly, every inch of his soul poured into you. It’s such a simple kiss. Neither of you dare deepen it - you both know it’s not the time. It’s just ordinary, small, wet with his tears, but it’s the most wonderful, caring action. 

“Do you want something to drink?” You ask, pulling away from him. 

“No.” 

“How about a bath? Or a shower?” 

“No, I just want to hold you.” 

You smile softly, nodding. “Let me find something for you to wear. It’s colder tonight.” You stand, moving around your room to find any of his clothes that he’s left behind. You think you might’ve run out of clean things of his in his allocated drawer. “It’s getting really difficult, working with only one drawer of your clothes.” 

“Especially when you use my shirts to sleep in,” he comments. 

“True.” You hum as you find a pair of his sweatpants, folding them over your arm. 

“Maybe it would be easier if we just lived together,” he says. 

You turn to him, now holding one of your baby tees, mistaken for a shirt of his. The words “I’m too sexy for this shirt” stare at him, standing out against the white cotton. “Do you mean it?” You ask. 

“I do. I want us to live together. I love seeing our shoes next to each other when we stay together. I love seeing your things at my place. I love cooking together. I want to stay up late talking to you. I want to dance in the kitchen in the middle of the night. I want to come home to you.” 

You smile, practically attacking him with the way you hug him. “I want all of that too.” You kiss his cheeks, then his forehead, then peck him on the lips before you roll off the bed to look for a t-shirt. You throw the items at him when you’ve found them. 

When he’s changed, the two of you lay in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. And you look up at him while the first hints of the sunrise filter through the crack in the curtains. 

You look up at him, and he meets your eyes, a loving smile on his face. “I love you, Dick Grayson. And I can’t stand to see you destroy yourself.” 

“I love you too. I’ll stay together for you.” 

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 10 - vulnerability

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: language, fluff central

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

you and rafe had spent the whole afternoon together and it had been everything and more. just like he had promised the other week, he was showing you around LA and never leaving your side.

the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange as you walked along venice beach, his fingers brushing against yours in a way that made your heart race.

"you know," rafe said with a smile, glancing over at you, "i’m glad we’re doing this. not just the tour thing, but... you and me, this."

his words hit differently now, sitting down on the beach to watch the gentle waves and the sky change colours.

you looked over at him, "me too," you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips.

he grinned back, his playful energy still present, but a hint of seriousness took over him. "i've never done this before." he admitted.

"done what?" you asked him.

"caught feelings like this." he spoke softly, almost scared to say the words out loud.

you reached out to touch his cheek, "me neither rafe." you held his gaze, "there's still so much we have to learn about each other."

"i know, and that's what i'm scared of."

"why?" you questioned.

"i'm scared you won't like the version of me you uncover. i'm not good with my words but, i didn't used to be a good person. i was addicted to drugs, i bought girls home every night to fill a void, i was so unhappy and treated people so badly. but this," he stuck his hands out and pointed between the two of you, "i've never experienced this."

his truth taking you by surprise, but making your heart swell that he was opening up to you this way. "i'm not scared rafe. the rafe i know now is a good guy. i've never met someone like you and i want to know all parts of you even those that you think i won't like."

rafe let out a soft, almost shaky breath at your words. it was as if you had taken a weight off his shoulders without even realising it. his eyes softened, and the air between you two stilled for a moment.

his eyes didn't leave yours, no response was needed, but he pulled you in for a soft kiss full of emotion.

he pulled away to stare at you for a moment, searching your face for any sign of doubt, but there was none.

"i’ve been thinking about you a lot," he admitted, almost too quietly. "more than i thought i would. i know we’re still figuring things out, but i can’t help but want to be around you. want to be better because of you."

your heart fluttered at the honesty in his words, the vulnerability making you weak, all laid out in front you.

"rafe, you’re already better. you’ve made it this far and the fact that you're here with me, saying this stuff, shows me just how far you've come. you don’t have to prove anything."

his lips parted as if he was going to say something, but instead, he just smiled. without another word, he reached out, carefully taking your hand into his, the touch gentle, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

after many hours had passed of gentle touches and soft conversation, you headed back to the hotel in time to join the others and pack before your flight back home tomorrow.

your chest was full of happiness, feeling ready for what was to come.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: why am i crying writing this they are so cute i hate them

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @pogueprincesa @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes @judesgfirl @4urvalidation @chillgal135 @drewstarkeyslover @yesshewrites1 @amterasuu@babykhloutofthisworld @blushmimi  @moonywhisp3rs @rafeysworldim19 @marleymarleymarleymarley @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @vcnillafairy @bambii1i @sammyrenae68

i will be taking people off taglist if that don't interact! just as more people want to be added and need to make it fair<3

[hyunjuenthusiast]

Im craving for angst , so girl can you write about Hyun ju x female reader

Basically Hyun ju and female reader have been dating for 1 and half year now, but things didn't went so well after attending squid game, Hyun ju gave young mi more attention , than she did for female reader so she distance herself from Hyun ju and her team, wondering why female reader ditched her. So female reader went to Gi Hun's team instead. And to make things worse not only Hyun ju voted O to continue the game, but Hyun ju lost the love of her life during the Mingle, ANND.. It took Hyun ju 2 to 4 business days to figure out that she hasn't been a good girlfriend ever since they came to squid game and Hyun ju Crashes out so badly.

(Female reader committed su!cide during Mingle, died instead of young mi and the shaman lady predicted female reader's death)

(And YES the guilt is definitely eating Hyun ju alive)

Sorry if this is too long

Take your time for this one

゜・（／。＼）・゜

Okayyyy complex, I like it! Hopefully I do this ask justice 🙏🏻

HER ANGEL

Pairing: Hyun-ju x femreader

Warnings: ANGST, depression, death, suicide, longing, survivors guilt.

Insecure. That was a word Y/n had always been familiar with. Ever since she was little. Her mother would criticize everything she did. If she ate too much, if she didn't eat enough. If her hair was down, if her hair was up. If she smiled, and if she didn't smile. Everything she did up until she was an adult was judged.

When she finally got the taste of freedom, moving out at the ripe age of eighteen, she discovered that the world was an ugly place. Nothing like how she fantasized how it would be. The books were wrong.

For the first few years after moving out, she was alone. Truly alone. She had no one. No friends to call late at night, no fuzzy kitten to cuddle when she had tears running down her face on a rainy day. No significant other who would whisper sweet nothings to her as she fell asleep... No one.

Not until she met her angel. Hyun-ju.

Everything had changed. For the first time in her life, Y/n felt like she deserved to take up space in the world. Hyun-ju made her feel wanted, loved. She erased every insecurity Y/n had. She loved every flaw and imperfection. She kissed her scars and wiped her tears.

Hyun-ju was her soul mate.

Y/n didn't care that her angel was different. She didn't care how people looked at them in public. Hyun-ju was perfect, in every way. Even if her angel couldn't see it for herself.

Hyun-ju told Y/n of her wishes for surgery. She had cried to Y/n about her debt and abandonment. And Y/n was there to comfort her in return, wiping her angels tears away and whispering promises.

So when a nice-looking man asked Y/n to play a game, showing her the money she would win, of course she agreed. For her angel, for Hyun-ju.

Y/n didn't need convincing to call the number on the back on the card. Once she saw Hyun-ju looking at herself in front of the mirror, her eyes filled with loathing, she dialed the number.

It was the least she could do. Hyun-ju had given Y/n her sense of self back. She had given Y/n her smile back. Of course, she would return the favor. Anything for her angel.

Waking up to the blasted music, she looked around to see other people. Waring the ugliest green she had ever seen. Looking down at herself, she saw her jacket was labeled 005.

She gathered around like everyone else. Waiting for an explanation. There were so many pink guards and even more players. They explained that they weren't trying to collect debt or cause any harm.

"Excuse me!" Said a voice. Not just any voice. Her angel's voice. Y/n quickly turned and saw Hyun-ju. Her Hyun-ju standing near a couple of bunks. She didn't catch what her angel said next, only focused on the fact that she was here.

Y/n winced as she saw Hyun-ju getting slapped. That was the day her angel had gone on a walk. She remembers her coming home, acting strange. Hyun-ju had met the salesman before Y/n did.

As all the players walked in single file lines up the colorful steps to get their pictures taken, Y/n looked around for Hyun-ju. Seeing her fixing her hair prettily, she smiles and quickly walks up to her. "Angel!" Y/n gushes.

Instead of greeting Y/n with a smile, Hyun-ju tenses. Asking her what she was doing here. "I know how much you need the money..." Y/n whispers softly, watching as Hyun-ju's eyes soften.

As they all walk into the first game, Hyun-ju holds Y/n's hand. "Don't separate from me, sweet girl. Okay?" Her angel asks softly. Y/n squeezes her hand in return.

"What is that?" Y/n asks, pointing to the giant doll like figure in the distance.

"Green light..."

Y/n quickly runs forward a few steps, then stops.

"Red light!" The doll waits, seeing if anyone would move.

The first to go was 196. Y/n stood, stiff as a board, the sound of people dying behind her. When the doll says green light, no one moves forward, but Hyun-ju reaches over and grips Y/n's hand.

Player 456 explains that they will die anyway if they don't cross the finish line in time, and so, she stays behind Hyun-ju, racing towards the finish line.

Once across, she watches in horror as her angel races back across to help player 456. This is the first and only time that Y/n has ever wanted to yell at Hyun-ju.

The second game is the six legged pentathlon. Her and Hyun-ju look around for more teammates. She notices Hyun-ju's fallen expression when people stare at her, and when they don't want to join because of her.

"Excuse me?" A timid voice says from behind the both of them. Y/n and Hyun-ju turn to see a small girl, obviously nervous. "W-Would you...like to team up with me?" She asks, looking at Hyun-ju first, then to Y/n.

Ever since then, Hyun-ju had been attached at the hip with Young-Mi. It was hard for Y/n not to notice, especially in a place like this. When she wanted comfort and reassurance from her angel, she would see that Hyun-ju was already comforting Young-Mi, that she was already whispering words of encouragement to her instead of Y/n.

But that was just who her angel was. She was kind to everyone, and Y/n had no right to take that away from Young-Mi. Y/n could clearly see how terrified the small girl was, and if Hyun-ju was her safe place, then who was Y/n to take that away from her?

That's was until Y/n heard it. What Hyun-ju was saying to Young-Mi.

"I won't let anything happen to you, sweet girl." Hyun-ju had said. Y/n felt her stomach drop. Sweet girl. That was Y/n's nickname. That was her word of endearment.

She decided to give them space. Joining player 456 and his team.

The third game was mingle.

As they all stood on the platform, Y/n watched as Hyun-ju held Young-Mi's hand, giving her soft smiles. Y/n felt horrible for feeling envious. Would she always be cursed to be this insecure? Would she ever feel content with anything?

"TEN"

The voice said. Everyone scrambled to find their groups and rooms. So far, their team had nine after joining Hyun-ju. Until her angel grabbed the crazy shaman lady.

Running into the green room, Y/n pants, not even bothering to look at her angel holding onto another woman. Hyun-ju gives her a confused look, wondering why she had left their group.

"Your heavy sorrow will swallow you whole." The crazy lady says, making everyone look at her. Y/n shrinks into herself as she realizes that she's talking to her. "You won't last much longer, I'm afraid. Pity. You have the purest birthstone."

"SIX" the voice says.

Gi-hun and Young-il had split from the group, leaving Y/n no other choice but to join Hyun-ju.

They all run to a yellow door, freezing in their tracks as they see a group is already in there. Hyun-ju races to find a different one.

She found one.

Y/n starts to run towards it with the other people in her group, but when she sees player 333 running towards it too, she slows down.

Looking over at her angel, she sees her clutching Young-Mi's hand.

The pregnant girl holds her belly.

The mother and sun cling to each other.

Where did Y/n fit into that? She didn't.

She has seen Jun-hee talking to player 333 on several occasions...

She needed him, more than any of them needed Y/n.

She made her decision then.

As player 333 races into the room, she finally hears Hyun-ju calling for her. Her angel was trying to get 333 out of the way.

Y/n walks to the door, looking into the small slit. "Y/n, what the hell are you doing? Go find a room! Go!" Hyun-ju shouts. Y/n only shakes her head softly.

"Ita okay angel." She whispers, putting her hands onto the door. Hyun-ju is starting to panic. The timer still had thirteen seconds on it. "I know there's no place for me here. Not now." Y/n says, tearing up.

Hyun-ju continues to shout, begging Y/n to go find a room. "You made me feel so inside the lines, Hyun-ju. Like I wasn't a lost shade outside of the pretty design. I could actually fit inside the art." Y/n says with a sad smile.

"I never thanked you for that." She says. "Thank you for showing me. For guiding me to see who I was for the first time."

Nine seconds on the timer.

"I know you'll be happy. You'll make it out of here and live the life you've always dreamed of...live the life you've always deserved. A life, with Young-Mi." Y/n's lip quivers.

Four seconds on the timer.

Hyun-ju starts shaking the door, sobbing and yelling. "I love you, my angel." She whispers tearfully, letting out a pained breath as she feels the bullet peirce her back.

"NO! Y/N!"

Player 333 had left that room beaten to a bloody pulp.

At first, Young-Mi's hand doesn't feel out of place instead of her own, not for the next two games.

Until Y/n's words repeat instead of her head.

A life...with Young-Mi.

Once she realizes it, she drops Young-Mi's hand as if it had burned her. She had been holding the wrong woman. Comforting the wrong woman. Calling her...

She had called the wrong woman sweet girl.

Hyun-ju looks over to Young-Mi, a tear falling. She had made the love of her life question her love.

She had been at fault for her sweet girl's death. Not 333. Not even the guards. Hyun-ju was the reason.

"Don't worry. You'll be seeing her again, " the shaman says. "A lot sooner than you think."

For the next game... was human chess.

I'm scared.... what do we think?

[mayrose713]

Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 20

Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI

Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed

Chapter 20

“Wow, the view from here is insane. I can’t believe this is just down the street from the house.” Y/n looks out the large glass windows that make up the cafe up on a hill looking over the beach. “And all those boats out there.”

“This side of the island is a pretty good fishing spot this time of year.” Changbin smiles at her as they are waiting in line to order drinks.

“Do you guys like to go fishing?” She finally turns away from the windows for the first time to look at her two dates. 

“Not really.” Jisungs shakes his head. “Main thing is Minho doesn’t like water, so.”

“He seemed to be fine on the ferry we took to get here.”

“It’s because it’s a bigger boat than one you would go fishing on.” Changbin chuckles. “Plus he’s done the trip so many times he’s used to it by now. He hated it the first few times we came down here.”

“Though he doesn’t usually stay in the water for very long, so the fact that he stayed for a while when we had our beach day really says something.” Jisung thinks about it a little. “Maybe it's because of you that he’s getting more comfortable with it.”

“I doubt that.” The omega gives a small snort before finally looking up at the menu board as they are getting closer to the front of the line. “What are you guys getting?”

“Ice americanos.” They two males say at the same time making Y/n laugh when they look at each other shocked. 

“What do you want to drink, angel?” Jisung wraps his arm around her shoulders. 

“Well, I’ve never actually had coffee before.” She continues to scan the menu. “And I don’t want to get one to try in case I don’t like it.”

“You can try ours to see if you like it for next time.” Changbin nudges her shoulder. “Though I feel like you’ll be like Felix and won’t like it. But they do have smoothies if you want that.”

Y/n looks at the smoothies part of the menu and sighs. “There’s so many flavors, how do you choose?” 

“We’ll pick one for you.” The beta squeezes her shoulders. “Are there any fruits you don’t like?”

“Pineapple.”

“Alright, we won’t pick anything with pineapple.” Jisung laughs. 

Once it’s their turn Changbin steps up to the counter to order while Jisung and Y’n stand near the side, the older swaying them a little as they wait for their alpha. 

“Can I get two large ice americanos and one large strawberry banana smoothie?”

Once they’ve gotten their drinks they walk out of the cafe and instead of heading down to the beach like Y/n thought, they lead her across the street to a large park and garden. 

“Here, pretty girl, try it.” Changbin hands her his Americano and she takes a sip only to make a face with a scrunched up nose making both males laugh. “I figured you wouldn’t like it.”

“Made the same face Lixie always makes.” Jisung shakes his head. 

“How’s the smoothie?” Changbin asks after she hands him back his drink and immediately drinks hers. 

“So much better than yours, that’s for sure.” She then looks around as they start walking through the park. “So what is this place?” 

“Jeju is known for having a lot of beautiful parks and gardens.” Jisung grabs her hand that isn’t holding her drink. “This one is one of my favorites and not just because it’s walking distance from the house meaning I can walk here with either an alpha or a beta.” 

“Usually Jinnie takes him so he can paint while Ji walks around the place.” Changbin looks at the beta. “But he wanted so badly to take you here too and asked if this could be our date.” 

“Aww, Jisungie.” Y/n leans her head against his shoulder. “Where’s yours and Hyun's favorite place to go in here?”

“Follow me.” 

Jisung leads the two through the park and into the guarded area. Hundreds of different flowers are blooming and the smells are amazing. They go to a bridge over a small river and they can hear the sound of a waterfall. 

“This is both of our favorite spot.” Jisung points to the waterfall with trees hanging over it, flower petals falling off the branches into the water. 

The omega gasps at how beautiful it is. “Wow Ji, this place is amazing.”

“Look in the water.” Changbin leans into her side pointing just below them. “A bunch of koi fish.”

“They’re so pretty.” 

“Come on, there’s more.” 

Jisung drags the two of them around the whole garden. They would occasionally sit on a bench and take in the scenery. Y/n remembering she has a phone again started taking pictures of everything. She sent a few to Hyunjin asking if he could paint her a mural of one of them on her wall in her room. And the three of them took a few pictures together sending them to the group chat after realizing they need to take pictures with Y/n now as they don’t have any. 

“Woah.” Y/n’a eyes light up as they reach the exit of the garden on the other side of the park where there are trees lining the path, millions of flower petals littering the ground and more still falling. 

She runs ahead of them to go down the path and they follow along smiling at her. 

“You chose a good date Ji.” The alpha takes the youngest’s hand and uses his other to take pictures of the girl. “I don't think we've ever seen her like this before.” 

“I hope we get to see this more often now.”

They reach the end of the path where their omega is waiting for them with a huge smile.

“You’ve got flower petals in your hair, baby.” Changbin chuckles and lets go of Jisungs hand and they both start picking the petals off of her. 

“The next time we come to the island can we go to more of the parks and gardens?” 

“I’m sure we can.” Jisung grins. “Remember, the alphas can’t say no to Lix and I. Adding you in when asking for stuff, oh they’re done for.” 

Changbin hits him on the back of the head, making him pout. “Don’t go having any ideas.” 

The alpha then takes Y/n’s hand and she grabs Jisungs and they start walking through the park to head back to the house. They see some pups playing on the playground and a pack set up at one of the gazebos. 

“Y/n?” A teen beta girl walks over to the three of them and gets excited at seeing the omega. “Oh my god it is you.” She runs up to her and hugs her, Y/n stands in shock letting go of both of her dates hands, before the teen turns and calls to a younger alpha boy. “Kwan, go get grandma and grandpa, it’s Y/n.” 

“No, Nobi…” But Y/n was too late as Kwan has already run off to the gazebo to grab two of the adults and she turns to her two mates after letting go of the teen. “We need to go.” 

“Why are you going? We haven’t seen you in two weeks.” Nobi pouts. “Grandma said you went to visit your dad in Japan. What are you doing here? And who are they?”

“Nobi, I need to go.” She’s getting desperate to leave now and Changbin and Jisung can tell. 

“Let's go, Y/n.” Changbin wraps his arm around her trying to move her past the teen but they weren’t fast enough as Kwan was already back with an older alpha male and a beta female. 

“Y/n, there you are.” The beta gasps and smiles walking up to her, grabbing her from Changbin to hug. Y/n stands still in both shock and fear. “Where have you been? You just ran off and we tried looking for you. Someone found your car abandoned at a park but you were nowhere around and no one came forward as witnesses.”

“But you told us she went to Japan.” Kwan looks at the two adults confused before looking at the omega then at Nobi.

“You two go back to playing with the other pups.” The older alpha tells them both. “You’ll be able to talk and ask Y/n questions later.”

They watch the teens run off as Changbin grabs Y/n pulling her back towards him and Jisung protectively, not liking the situation. The older male sees this, eyes narrowing at the scene. 

“Thank you gentlemen for bringing our omega back to us.” He gives a forced smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “As her pack alpha we’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again, we can’t thank you enough.”

“We’re not leaving her with you.” Jisung says out of nowhere, shocking even himself at his outburst as it usually isn’t like him, but he doesn't want Y/n to be taken from them.

“And who do you think you are to decide that?” The alpha steps closer to Jisung causing him to cower which Changbin wasn’t going to allow.

“Y/n’s fated mates, that’s who.”

“Even if you are, she’s still under my pack. I haven’t given her to anyone yet.” The man snarls and roughly grabs the girl's wrist, pulling her to him causing her to whimper. 

Y/n doesn’t know what to do or say as her wrist now throbs from how hard he grabbed her. She feels her phone vibrating in her pocket but is too scared to move.

The older female looks Y/n over as if pretending to make sure she’s okay and gasps when she sees Chan's mating bite on one side of her neck. “You claimed her?”

“You claimed my granddaughter without even talking to me first?” He gets mad and shoves Changbin a little. 

“STOP!” 

Y/n’s grandfather looks at her angrily, questioning if she really just dared to speak. “What?” 

“Stop.” She says again, tears pooling at her waterline. “I’m not coming back with you. I’m going back home, with them.” 

“Y/n, we’ve been worried sick about you, we didn’t know where you went.”

“Then why didn’t you ever report her as missing?” Changbin asks, moving Jisung behind him as he tries to get closer to his omega to take her back. “You say you’ve been worried about her but yet she’s been gone for two weeks and there was never a missing persons report filed, I know because we checked. And if you really cared about her so much then why was she bruised, malnourished, and timid when we first found her?”

“Whatever that bitch told you is a lie.” He growls, hating that his own morals are being questioned. “She’s not mentally sane in the head anyways. Why she needs to come back with us.” He looks at the girl again and eyes narrow on the other side of her neck now seeing Felix and Minho’s bites and scoffs. “Always knew you were a slut, getting claimed by more than one man.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” She hisses trying to walk past him back to her mates but he grabs her wrist again and when she tries to pull away he slaps her cheek making her stop in shock. 

Her grandfather moves to grab her again making the omega freak out as she tries to scurry away from him causing her to trip over her feet and fall to the ground. 

“Get the fuck away from her.” Changbin rushes forward grabbing the other male just as sirens are heard along with several yelling voices heading their way.

______________________________________________________________

Taglist is closed for a bit as I am unable to tag anymore right now

Tag list: @pixie0627 @sinfulfic @estella-novella @mbioooo0000 @ms-flowergirl @blindspot143 @ihrtlix @arishoriasims @fic-for-readers @motheraiya55 @hwangrfrnd @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @juskz @borahae-reads @dreamerwasfound @galaxy4489 @kayleefriedchicken @lostgirlinthewoodss @catkight @royal-shinigami @notevenheretbh1 @passionandsuga @m00njinnie @sukss @n1nme4r @blueberrydish @xxeiraxx @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @aalexyuuuhm @kaleigh-2002 @btskzfav @hyunmikim @ot8girlfie @sillygoosegoose @tr0p1cal @eastjonowhere @hime-honne @furfoxsake22 @luvlino23 @iknow-uknow-leeknow @im-sinking-in-mud @fiest4plum @forevermoremagcon @comicnerd557 @nchhuhi @alyxcatspost @danceonmyheyday @maisyyyyyy @shycreationdreamland @chanshugsaretherapy 

@violet-hatake @idkwhoisthis1971 @mo0n13 @yumuramma @nuggiesnuggetdog04

@pineapplekitty3-16 @straykidslover2024 @athens-09 @strayk1ds143

[curtis-brothers-hug]

It must be so bizarre for the gang to hear Ponyboy complaining that Darry hates him. Because compared to all their parents, compared to everyone else in their neighborhood, Darrel Curtis is the greatest guardian to ever exist.

Darry makes sure Ponyboy stays in school (he even checks his homework!), he always makes sure Ponyboy is safe, always worries when Pony doesn’t come home when he said he would. He actually keeps track of when Pony is supposed to be home! He works so hard and makes sure his paychecks go to his brothers before anything else.

He never hits Ponyboy. Ever. (Later he will, once and only once, and he’ll beat himself up about it so bad you’d think he’d killed the kid.) He never gets drunk in front of Pony. He never throws anything at him. He never puts out cigarettes on his skin. He never kicks him out of the house. Pony says Darry ���hollers” at him. They know hollering. Darry Curtis might as well be singing lullabies.

And when Darry does yell at Pony, it’s always about doing his homework and coming home at curfew (he gives him a curfew!). Not for bothering him for rides home, but for not calling him for a ride. Because he wants to keep Ponyboy safe. He wants Ponyboy to stay safe so badly that he yells at him when he doesn’t. If Darry hated Pony, he’d yell at him to get the hell out of the house, not into it; to get out of his sight, not stay in it.

When Pony gripes about how “cold and hard and unfeeling” Darry is, they’re like, what the actual fuck is he talking about? No dad or big brother in their entire neighborhood is as affectionate as Darry is with his kid brothers. Only the gang is privy to Darry hugging or tickling or picking up and carrying his brothers, but anyone can see that he’s never rough or mean to them.

And when they try to point out all this hard evidence, Pony just…..doesn’t believe it. Like he can think of some other reason why Darry does what he does.

As if they didn’t need more proof that Darry isn’t a goddamn saint, he seems to go along with it! Shortly after Johnny and Dallas die, Darry says, “I’m trying to do like Soda said and be softer on the kid.”

And Steve and Two-Bit and maybe Tim are like, softer than what?

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 29: Ghosts of the Past

Rating: Teen Audiences

Warnings: Protective!Paige, Azzi, Ice, Mentions of Y/N’s Ex, Panic Attacks

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x !Photographer Fem Reader

Fandom: Women’s Basketball

Summary: Why now...

Welcome to the chapter 29 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

Shopping trips with the team were always filled with laughter, banter, and an unrelenting amount of teasing. It was one of those things that felt like a welcome distraction from everything else. Today was no different. Paige, Azzi, Ice, and I were in our usual group, having fun as we made our way through the aisles. The others had split off to check out a sneaker store just a few blocks down, leaving the four of us to do a little damage in a nearby boutique.

"Are you seriously trying to convince me that green looks good on everyone?" Azzi asked, holding up a neon green hoodie, her expression a mix of disbelief and amusement.

I snorted, glancing over at Paige, who was smirking at me. "I’m just saying," Paige teased. "Some of us can pull it off better than others."

"You mean like you?" Ice chimed in, causing Paige to give a dramatic shrug.

"Obviously," Paige responded, looking pleased with herself.

Azzi rolled her eyes. "Let’s get this over with before Paige starts modeling for us."

The lighthearted atmosphere filled the space, and for a moment, I felt the weight of the past few weeks lift. Between school, practice, and my constant juggling act, I hadn’t realized how much I needed this—just the simple joy of being with people I cared about.

But then, as I turned a corner of the store, the world seemed to freeze. My heart stuttered in my chest.

Standing just a few feet away, browsing through a rack of jackets, was someone I thought I’d never have to see again. My ex.

I froze, the blood draining from my face. The warmth that had settled in me moments ago disappeared in an instant, replaced by a cold, creeping fear that settled deep in my bones.

Paige’s voice broke through my panic. "Y/N?" she asked softly, stepping closer. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her, my eyes locked on the figure in front of me. I could feel my hands begin to shake as memories from that toxic relationship flooded my mind. The manipulation, the gaslighting, the verbal jabs—everything that once felt suffocating was suddenly there, fresh and painful.

"Why are you back here?" I muttered under my breath, my voice unsteady. I could barely even hear it over the roar of my heartbeat.

Azzi, noticing my sudden shift in energy, stepped up to my other side. "Who’s this?" she asked, her voice sharp with suspicion.

Before I could answer, the guy turned, his eyes locking with mine. "Y/N? Wow, I didn’t expect to see you here!" He said, his tone too casual, too comfortable for someone who had hurt me so badly.

Azzi's arms crossed as she shot a glare at him. "Who’s this?" she repeated, her voice laced with protectiveness.

"I’m her ex," the guy replied, his eyes flicking between Azzi and Paige. He was trying to figure out the situation. "We dated her freshman year."

I felt my knees go weak as the walls I had built so carefully around my past began to crumble. Paige immediately noticed the change in me, her hand instinctively finding mine and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You okay?" she whispered, her voice quiet but firm.

I couldn’t answer. My breath was coming in short bursts, my chest tight with anxiety. My ex’s presence alone was enough to send me spiraling.

Azzi’s voice was sharp and commanding as she addressed him. "Maybe you should leave."

"What? I’m not doing anything wrong," he protested, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"You’re making her uncomfortable," Paige said, her voice steely and authoritative.

His gaze flicked to me, and I could see the confusion on his face. "I just wanted to say hi."

"Hi, and now bye," Ice’s voice rang out from behind us, her words leaving no room for argument.

Azzi and Ice stood like a wall between me and my ex, their eyes fixed on him with a glare that would make anyone back off. In a matter of seconds, they had him out of the store, leaving me surrounded by the people who would always have my back.

I was still trembling, my breath uneven as I tried to regain control of my racing heart. Paige stepped closer, her hands cupping my face, her touch gentle yet firm. "Hey, hey," she whispered softly. "Look at me."

I couldn’t help it—tears welled in my eyes. I didn’t want to cry. Not here, not now, but everything came flooding back. "I... I didn’t want to see him again, Paige," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Why now? Why here?"

Paige’s hands rubbed comforting circles on my arms as she leaned her forehead against mine. "You’re safe now, Y/N. He can’t hurt you anymore." Her words were calm, soothing, like a balm on the wounds I didn’t even realize were still raw.

"I’m sorry," I whispered, the tears breaking free.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Paige said gently, brushing away the tear that had slipped down my cheek. "You’ve been through a lot, and you don’t owe him or anyone anything."

The rest of the team returned, the air filled with quiet tension. Ice, Azzi, and KK had made sure my ex was gone, but the damage lingered in the pit of my stomach. KK was the first to speak up. "What happened?" Her voice was laced with concern.

"Her ex showed up," Ice muttered, her tone sharp. "Total creep."

Paige wrapped her arm around me, pulling me close. "We’re going back to my dorm," she said firmly, her protective instincts flaring. "We’ll figure this out there."

At the dorm, things felt a little calmer, though my nerves were still shot. I sat curled up on Paige’s bed, a blanket draped around my shoulders, sipping on a cup of tea she had made for me. I didn’t want to talk about it—not yet. The memories were still too fresh, too painful.

Paige sat beside me, her presence calming, her fingers gently lacing through mine. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly, her voice quiet, giving me the space I needed.

I shook my head. "Not right now. But…thank you. For everything."

"You don’t have to thank me," Paige murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "I’ll always protect you."

I leaned into her, letting her warmth and comfort settle me. "I know," I whispered. "I know."

Later that night, after I had finally managed to sleep, the nightmares came.

I woke up, my body drenched in sweat, my heart pounding as though I was back in that dark, toxic relationship. I gasped for air, feeling trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t escape. The panic rose in my chest, my breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.

I tried to calm myself down, but the images were still there, haunting me—his face, the way he used to make me feel like I wasn’t good enough, that I was nothing.

But then, suddenly, a pair of warm hands cupped my face. Paige was there, her voice soft and steady as she whispered, "Hey, look at me. You’re safe."

I turned into her, the tears falling freely now. "I can’t breathe, Paige. I can’t—"

"Shh," Paige soothed, her hands running down my back as she gently rocked me. "Just breathe with me, okay? Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth."

I followed her lead, focusing on her voice, her presence, the way she always seemed to ground me when everything else fell apart.

"I’ve got you," she whispered. "You’re safe. You’re here with me, and no one can hurt you. Not anymore."

Slowly, I felt my breathing steady, the panic that had gripped me loosening its hold.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice still shaky. "I’m sorry for waking you."

Paige smiled softly, her thumb brushing across my cheek. "Don’t apologize, baby. I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. Always."

I snuggled closer to her, my heart finally beginning to settle. "I’m lucky to have you," I whispered, the words barely escaping my lips as I drifted back into a peaceful sleep, surrounded by the warmth of the girl who would always protect me.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 , @0phantom0 , @starlighttsv , @authentic-girl03 , @elalfywhore , @elalfywhore .... (more to be added)

[sanjarka]

not to be a broken record but it's not quite fair to use the line but peeta wanted them so badly as proof that katniss was forced into having kids, or of her having them for all the wrong reasons. it exists within the context of not only the epilogue but an entire story before it. and i'm not here to convince you to like it. but to try seeing the point at least.

to expand on something i've spoken about before - in the epilogue their children are playing in a meadow from a song she sang to rue, a song that she now sings to her kids, in a meadow not unlike the one she dreams about after the beach kiss (as i drift off, i try to imagine that world, somewhere in the future, with no games, no capitol. a place like the meadow in the song i sang to rue as she died. where peeta's child could be safe)

so the tone in the epilogue can not be tragic and it is not regretful. it is hopeful.

the infamous line previously mentioned is not about katniss's lack of consent in being a mother but about the amount of trust she has in peeta as her life partner, as someone she loves. it's nothing but a connection to another line in the epilogue (where katniss is expressing her worry over teaching her kids about the games and her and peeta's role in them) → peeta says it will be okay. we have each other and the book. we can make them understand in a way that will make them braver.

it is about there not being another person who could've made this decision, this choice, safe (no one has held me like this in such a long time. since my father died and i stopped trusting my mother, no one else's arms have made me feel this safe)

it's about how his his hope made her wish safe (isn't it the thing i'd dreaded most about the wedding, about the future - the loss of my children to the games? and it could be true now couldn't it? if i hadn't spent my life building up layers of defenses until i recoil at even suggestion of marriage or a family?)

it's about how only peeta can give her that (what i need is the dandelion in the spring. the bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. the promise the life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. that it can be good again. and only peeta can give me that)

the choice to be a parent is not easy and careless and it never will be. she's absolutely honest about being terrified of her kids learning about the games, of them being scared and forced to harden like her and peeta were. the pain of the past is not ignored, it is not glossed over, and the nightmares never go away. but there's something else in the epilogue too.

when i first felt her stirring inside of me, i was consumed with a terror that felt old as life itself. only the joy of holding her in my arms could tame it. carrying him was a little easier, but not much.

how is this katniss being resentful and if she is why would she then have another kid? i've seen some people focus on the terror as it's this ugly thing proving her regret but is it not an entirely realistic feeling to have when carrying someone's life within you and understanding the neverending responsibility in keeping said life safe? there is such beauty in the phrase old as life itself. because it suggests the idea that this is something that isn't inherently tied to katniss's life, to her trauma and to her pain but to lifekind in general. and then the joy! how that terror is only settled when seeing your child eye to eye, seeing them breath and cry and live. it's such a gorgeous, intimate passage trying to let you in the love katniss has for her kids. it's not hiding away the sacrifice and the fear but it's also not hiding away how worth it it can be to make choices that scare you.

I'll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I'm afraid it could be taken away. that's when i make a list of every act of goodness i've seen someone do. it's like a game. repetitive. even a little tedious after more than twenty years. but there are much worse games to play.

how is this supposed to be so much more bitter than sweet, how is this anything but a love letter to peeta, to her kids, to everything she gained after everything she lost. why would she be so afraid of losing it all if it doesn't matter and why would she make a choice to believe in the kindness of people if the life she has now is something she has no say in and something that at best she feels indifferent towards to?

and obviously you have a right to feel whatever it is that you feel. i hate even having to say this cause who am i to give you a right to feel any type of way. i'm not trying to push my feelings onto you and tell you that this story must work for you, that it must make you feel hopeful. that if you're not satisfied you just have to read it again. stories don't work that way.

but to imply that the intention of the story is for the reader to be left hopeless is wrong. and sure, maybe that intention doesn't seem that profound you, maybe it is not interesting and maybe you think is boring. and maybe you think that katniss and peeta wouldn't realistically have this life path, or have kids, and maybe you think the end is too predictable and too expected. and that's okay. whatever life you have lived is going to affect what stories you find deep and what stories you find shallow and so maybe, this is that story for you. the story that you don't get. the story that doesn't work for you. and that's okay too. but to be so convinced that its intention is to present katniss's life as something so very miserable that she didn't choose but just let happen around her is wrong.

[qoldenskies]

nah because why are they always threatening to kick donnie off the team in canon 😭 he only tried to change their personalities twice he learned his lesson ☹️

LMAO its probably just a running joke that doesnt mean anything (especially because donnie is NOT insecure about his place on the team by any means, im sure he knows for sure they're just bullshitting), theyre meaner to leo in other ways more regularly dw about it

[hufflepuffsthunderdome]

What Did You Do? (Part Four)

Teen!Schlatt x gn!reader <-P. Three P. One ???-> Summary: Teen!Schlatt finally faces you after his fight with your date. Feelings come out in the worst way possible. Warnings: Angst, panic attacks, crying, yelling, fighting, kinda thoughts of not wanting to be alive, kinda slut shaming.

He's barely left his room in days. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. He hasn't eaten, hasn't talked to anyone, hasn't been taking care of himself. The idea of doing anything made him feel exhausted. He just wanted to hide, to waste away lying in his bed, until the world forgot about him, left to rot in his own idiocy.

He was ignoring all his problems for now. Alex and his other friends had called and messaged him a number of times. His parents had been trying to balance disciplining him with a genuine concern for his wellbeing. The school had booked disciplinary meetings, he was pretending their dates weren't red, looming angrily in his calendar, he couldn't even bare the thought of being kicked off baseball.

The only person he cared about at the moment was you. The one person who hadn't reached out.

He knows you know what happened, he's sure Pete told you what he did. The whole school knows according to Alex, everyone talking about the fight, half-true tales mixed with outlandish rumours. He's not sure what's gotten back to you yet.

He wants to see you so badly it hurts, more than anything in the world right now, but he can't bring himself to reach out. He wants to text you, call you, get on his knees and beg and grovel for your forgiveness, but the thought alone makes him feel pathetic. He's been fighting tears every time he thinks about the disappointed look on your face when he didn't share your excitement about your date to the formal, he's sure it's even worse now.

That's all he seemed to do anymore. Let you down.

"All this," his mum's voice echoed in his head when she picked him up, "over a girl."

He feels pathetic when he thinks about her words, about how right she is. He didn't wanna be that guy, the kinda guy to get jealous, to be violent, to be angry. The kinda guy to fight over a girl. The kinda guy to fall for his best friend.

He feels the tears break past his waterline as he lies in bed, staring up at his ceiling as he sobs, chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. He sits up and slumps over, head rested in his hands as he tries to calm himself down.

Fuck why haven't you texted him? Has this done it? The nail in the coffin? He feels like he's gonna be sick as he thinks about it, surely this can't be the last time you'll talk to him. The thought of the last time he sees you being that disappointed look on your face as you watch him run away from you makes his chest heave as his lungs struggle to bring in oxygen.

He sinks to the floor, leaning back against the bed as he attempts to force himself to take in air. He wishes you were here, your sweet concerned eyes looking at him as you take his hand. He clenches his own hand into a tight fist, almost able to feel your hand in his as he tries to concentrate on anything other than his body trembling as he sobs. He wants you to tell him it's ok, that you don't hate him, as much as he doesn't deserve it. He can picture your soft voice as you pull him into a hug, holding him tight as he sobs into your shoulder, telling him he's still your best friend, that you still love him.

"Schlatt," a firm voice calls out which makes him heave a violent sob. He's really lost it, he's hearing you now.

"Jay," it says firmer, a tapping sound making him jump as he wipes away the tears that keep coming from his eyes, squinting as he looks over at his window. He can't move, still struggling to breathe as he sees you sitting on his windowsill, tapping at the glass, the familiar sight filling him with nothing but dread as he closes his eyes tightly in an attempt to stop his crying.

You clamber through the window when you manage to pry it open, rushing over to drop to your knees in front of the sobbing boy as you stare at him in shock. You've never seen him like this before. You've barely seen him cry, let alone sob like this.

The sight fills you with a sense of pain deep in your stomach as you watch him, frozen at the sight of your best friend breaking down. You want to be furious at him, you are furious, you don't let yourself forget that. But as you watch the tall boy in front of you break down, it's hard to see him as the friend who broke your trust, and not just a vulnerable boy who needs you.

You pull him in tightly to you, and hold him as he sobs, rocking him silently as he buries his head in your shoulder. He clings to you, large hands grabbing handfuls of your jumper as he pulls you towards him, afraid that if he lets go you'll vanish and he'll be alone again, drowning.

You breathe deeply with him, talking him down from his panic attack as you attempt to soothe him, "take a deep breath with me Jay," you coo softly, your own eyes filling with tears at the sight of your friend, "you're ok."

It takes a while but he eventually does calm down, his breathing returning to normal, and the tears subsiding as he pulls away, leaning back against his bed as he pulls his long legs up towards his chest. His previous anxiety and dread being replaced by the burn of embarrassment as he curses himself for falling apart like that in front of you.

You both just sit there in silence for a while, you want to yell and Jay wants to apologise a million times over, both of you too scared to be the first to speak. You watch him as he sits there, avoiding your gaze as you take in his splotchy, red, tear-soaked face, wanting to pull him back into a hug and slap him in equal measures.

The silence is deafening, until you take a deep, shaky breath, "we need to talk Jay."

He squeezes his eyes tighter at the disappointment in your tone and nods the tiniest bit. He can't look at you, can't face the upset he's caused.

"You punched Pete," you say bluntly, without even realising it as the words tumble out your mouth, an angry huff following when you remember the reason you came to talk to him.

He stays silent.

"You can't go around punching people," you say as you nudge his arm, trying to get him to face you.

"He deserved it," he says, unmoving as he at least opens his eyes, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

"I don't give a shit," you snap as you stand up, towering over the boy as he finally meets your gaze, your previous concern replaced with anger at his dismissal of you. He shrinks under your angry stare as he quickly looks away again, "you can't punch him."

"And you can't take him to formal," he says in the smallest of a mumble as his eyes dart around the room. He tries desperately to find something to focus his gaze on, but they keep falling back on you, and your gorgeous face, eyebrows raised and lips parted in shock as you stare at him. He has to stop himself from looking at your lips as he feels his face flush, god now's really not the time.

"Oh my god," you say as it finally dawns on you, arms going up to grip your hair as you stare down at him in shock, "is that what this was about? The fucking formal!"

He looks up at you as his face drops, "it's not about the -"

"The fucking formal!" you say, voice dripping with shock horror, as you turn away from him, staring at the window to stop yourself from throttling your best friend, "you punched Pete cause what? You don't have a date? You're j-"

"Don't fucking say it," he snaps, anger bubbling up in his gut again as he stares at you, "I'm not fucking-" he cuts himself off, unable to get the word out, "I just don't get why it had to be Pete."

"Cause he asked me?" you ask as you turn to look back at him, not sounding so sure yourself, bending down to meet his eyes, "cause I like him?"

"You like him?!" he says, his heart sinking as he stands up suddenly, wincing as you jump back from him as he towers over you, "you fucking like him?! I can't believe you like him, I fucking hate him, that dickhead he-"

"I don't care if you don't like him!" you yell as you throw your arms up, getting up in Jay's face as much as you can from the foot shorter than him you are, "He's nice to me! I like him! Fucking get over it!"

"You could've taken anyone else!" He says as he sinks back down on his bed, putting his head in his hands to calm his breathing, "you know how much I hate him."

"I wasn't exactly thinking about you when he asked me," you say, gritting your teeth as you force the lie out. You had been thinking about him, you'd been daydreaming for weeks, hoping he would ask you. Hoping he would finally admit that he liked you, sweep you off your feet like you always dreamed, "it wasn't exactly a huge list I had to pick fro-"

"You could've gone with me," he says, softer now, as he looks up at you, eyes tired and sad as he watches you stare at him, his heart clenching at the way you let out a small surprised breath.

This idiot, you think as you stare down at him, the anger replacing the hope that flutters in your chest once again when you remember what he did. All this could've been avoided if he just asked you, "don't fucking say that!"

"I could've taken you if you needed someone to go with," he mumbles as he stares at the floor, eyes widening when he realised how bad that sounded. He looks up at you as he watches you physically recoil from his unintentional jab, wanting to wrap you in his arms and keep you safe when tears rise in your eyes.

"I'm not some fucking charity case!" You snap as a tear trickles down your cheek, wiping it away as your chest heaves with heavy breaths, "I wanted someone to ask me because they wanted to! And Pete did!"

"I didn't mean it like that-" Schlatt starts, standing up, raising his hand to touch you but dropping it when he sees the way you glare at him through your tears

"God I fucking hate you sometimes," you spit, wiping away hot tears that trickle down your face.

That hits him deep in his gut as he feels like he's just been punched, "you're not exactly a saint yourself," he says back, trying and failing to sound angry as his voice shakes. Fuck why is he still talking?

This makes you cry harder as you turn away from him, "fuck you," you spit weakly, sobs threatening to escape your lungs as you take long deep gasps of air, wrapping your arms around yourself tightly to try to soothe yourself.

"I said sorry," he says as he throws his arms out, "what more do you want from me?"

"I want you to stop punching my date," you yell at him as you turn back, face flushed red, given up on holding it together as you sob.

"And I want you to stop trying to fuck the whole baseball team!"

Schlatt wakes with a start, breathing heavily, to find himself thankfully, sleeping in his own room, years away from the memory of his own stupidity, as much as it still hurt like a fresh wound to think about. He lays back down on the lumpy couch as he brings his hands back up to his face, groaning at the pain that has been brought to the forefront of his mind again from the dream, feeling almost physical.

He was such a dick. That's his biggest regret, how he treated you that night.

It was the worst, if not only, fight the two of you ever had and in hindsight, he doesn't think you ever truly recovered from it. You forgave him, eventually, like you always did, despite his insistent that he didn't deserve it. You were just that kind of person.

After that though there was a tension in your friendship that he now realises is what pushed you away. It's what led you to ultimately choose to move, to escape the weird baggage he created in your childhood neighbourhood. It's what led him to stop visiting, convinced you were better off without him now, with your new life.

He would think about you constantly, looking through your Instagram at the exciting people you met, and the fun things you did, a deep sense of longing every time he saw your smile, knowing you were a thousand miles away, living your life without him. It felt wrong.

He knows that's what did it, that single night of letting his bruised ego win over his love for you is what did it. The reason you're not together. The reason you'll never be together. The reason that now, years on, he still doesn't think he's atoned for.

The reason he'll never be good enough for you

He felt immense guilt every time he'd video chat when he'd see the new way you dyed your hair or the new band shirt you'd show off from some concert you went to. He was no longer your best friend, you were doing these things without him, without even telling him. He couldn't deal with that, so he just stopped talking to you.

Even now he felt guilty still. Guilty for hurting you. Guilty for not trying harder to mend what he broke. Even guilty for desperately wanting a place back in your life even after the hurt he caused you. He was selfish like that. And you were too kind to say no. He knew that.

He couldn't risk hurting you again.

---

Tagging baddies 🫶 @jellybell92 @olive823 @schlattandcompany @imgayandvoreethatsall @aesthetixhoe @mads-hemmo

[akiiame-blog]

i would love to hear your opinion on Prince Haru

Ohh, see, he's kinda interesting.

As a big Mario x Peach shipper, I actually don't dislike him for the same reasons a lot of my fellow shippers do. I find his character more boring than anything, nothing I'm outright angry about.

But his appearance really did come out of nowhere. It makes me believe that he was added in at the last minute.

Especially when you look at the promotional artwork for this film. I'd get if they'd want his appearance to be a surprise, but why would they depict it as if this is a Mario and Peach love story? Her necklace that leads to Haru's appearance isn't even here.

Even throughout the film itself, we've never gotten a single hint that there was supposed to be a prince until the very end. There wasn't a hint that the dog was him either. The film was leaning towards a Mario and Peach love story all throughout, only to say "SIKE there's now this legend that states that Haru is Peach's true love 🥰" at the very end.

The thing is, I would've been alright with Haru's role in the story if there was any actual build up to it. But it's likely that someone at Nintendo told them they couldn't make Mario and Peach canonical during the late stages of this movie's production, so they kinda had to rush some things.

So yeah, I dislike him mainly because of that badly executed twist ending, not because he became Peach's husband at the end.

[taurasiluv]

UNRAVELED. — unrivaled!stewie x reader — 1.2k words

summary: you missed stewies affection, badly.

content warnings: hurt/comfort sex

msg from sen: oh we're so back

game days in miami were a lot different than they were back home.

different apartment, different food, different people,

everything was just a little different.

this didn’t bother you, not in the slightest, you loved to experience new things, especially alongside your lover. but, the one thing that did bother you, was the sex.

back home in new york, breanna would always make time for a quickie before she left for the arena, or if that couldn’t happen she would always take the extra step to love on you a bit before she had to leave. 

you understood that breanna was busy. basketball, ownership, ensuring that everything ran smoothly for the players, but it didn’t make the lack of affection hurt any less.

it was another game day, and another day you assumed that would be affectionless until after she got off of the court. you sat on the bed, pouting, while you watched breanna go in and out of the bathroom while she got ready. you saw glimpses of her outfit. a pair of jeans, sunglasses, and a white button up were all collected by her and brought back to the bathroom and different intervals. she didn’t see you, or if she did she was far too busy to say anything about the explicit pout on your face.

you fell back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with your arms crossed over your body. you heard her cross in and out of the bathroom a couple times before her footsteps became louder and you realized she must’ve been standing in front of you. 

the first thing you noticed when you sat up was just how good she looked. the bun, clean white button up, and jeans that complimented the outfit perfectly. 

she came up to you, spreading out your legs so she could stand in between them. her hand came up to your chin and held it snugly, lifting your face so you could see her. “what’s wrong ma?” her voice was soft and gentle, something that was always comforting for you.

“do you not want me anymore?” you asked, voice shaky. 

you could almost see her heart break through her eyes. they softened and she frowned, stepping even closer to you, your chin was practically touching her chest.

“why would i not want you anymore baby?” she frowned, running her thumb up and down your jaw. 

you sighed, staying silent for a moment to gather your thoughts and attempt not to cry all at the same time. “you’ve been so busy and we haven’t had sex in like forever, i just miss how it was before we came here,” you explained, fidgeting with your hands and avoiding eye contact with her.

she tightened her grip on your jaw, moving your face so you were looking at her. “look at me baby,” her voice was still soft and gentle, but it was laced with dominance this time around. “i’m sorry i’ve been so busy lately and we haven’t had time for our usual pregame routine, i didn’t realize it affected you this much,” she frowned.

“make it up to me?” you flashed a mischievous grin at her, moving your hands to settle around her waist, gently moving up under the button up.

she laughed, her other hand coming up to cup your face as well. “yes ma’am,” she said softly before leaning in to kiss you.

it started gently, her lips moving in tandem with yours as she stroked the skin of your face. but, before you knew it you were laid back and she was straddling you. her hands planted right beside your head and her lips came crashing down. unlike the first time, the kissing came with a lot more touches and fervor. her hands trailed up and down your sides, biting and sucking on your lip at the same time. you moaned into the kiss, bucking your hips as much as you could under the weight of her.

your hands came up to her chest, gently balling the fabric into your hands while you two kissed. her hands made their way down your body, playing with the hem of the shirt you wore—which happened to be hers—and slipping her hands under. her big hands covered lots of skin, blunt nails gently dragging over it. she continued to kiss you, her tongue swirling against yours. 

her fingers continued to dance up and down your torso, gently brushing over your bra for a few moments before going back down to your stomach. you could feel her hips gently grind into yours, a testament to how aroused she was. you were on the same boat as her, you could feel how wet your panties were and just how much you needed her.

“bre please, need you so bad,” you whined in between aggressive kisses. 

“yeah baby, how bad?” she whispered in your ear, biting the lobe.

“stop teasing,” you frowned, reaching down to move her hand to where you needed it.

she smiled at the boldness. making quick work to unbutton your pants and slip her hand down past the waistline of your panties. she gasped when she felt just how wet you were, “fuck baby you really needed this, huh?” she laughed.

you groaned, “yeah and if you ever leave me high and dry for this long ever again i’ll kill you, stewart.” 

she laughed again, plunging her fingers down into your wet folds and rubbing a hasty pace on your clit. you yelped at the sudden feeling of overwhelming pleasure. you bucked your hips up into her touch, your hands coming up to grip her shirt again. “fuck bre,” you moaned, your head pushing back into the mattress underneath you. 

“you like that baby? you’re doing so well for me,” she said, her voice raspy and sultry. a stark contrast to her previously soft and gentle tone. 

you nodded feverishly, too lost in the pleasure of it all to really form a real sentence. you rocked your hips at the same pace of her fingers, rutting into her perfectly. you could feel yourself barreling towards the edge

“f-fuck, bre—m’gonna cum please,” you whined, bucking your hips even harder.

she circled faster, slipping a finger into you. she thrusted and circled faster, leaning forward to whisper into your ear. “cum for me babygirl, my pretty girl.” 

that’s all it took, her voice mixed with the pace of her fingers pumping in and out of you took you to new heights. your eyes rolled back and white hot heat flooded through your veins. soft moans rushed out of you as you rode out your high.

she continued to thrust in and out of you, helping you through your orgasm. “doin’ so good for me baby, cmon,” she said, focused in on the movements of her hand. 

her hand eventually stalled, slowly pulling out of you. she brought her fingers up to her mouth, gently moaning around them while she sucked your juices off of her fingers.

“you feel better?”

you nodded, still in a haze from your orgasm. “thank you,” you smiled softly, looking up at her. 

before she could respond, her phone buzzed in her pocket rapidly. she took it out, glancing at the name of the caller and her eyes widening.

“fuck what time is it?!” she groaned, looking at the clock by your shared bed. 

“fuck i’m late!” she panicked, scurrying off of you to go gather her things. 

[yunazxxx]

BUT I’M SO OBSESSED WITH YOU — L.R

plot is kind of based off of fear street 78’

genre? : smut, with a murder and obsession plot

now playing : I’m so crazy for youuu </3 by rebzyyx

this content contains the following : obsessive, possessive, psychotic!lara (obviously), killing mention, kind of cheating but not so much?, kinda angst, smut warning, blood mention, g!p lara, heavy etc warning.

author chats?: okay don’t look at me like that.. i have other fics to finish but!! i lit rewatched this movie a while ago and wanted to make this so badly like <///3 so here we are. — certain parts of this is corny as SHITTTTTTT. but i’m not rewriting this for a while. — daniela is cindy… (im sorry but nor sorry…)

word count? : 4.0k

—

the day began as normal as you'd expect a day at camp to go, you decided to go on a walk along the campsite, talking with your friends.

while they walked along the trail, lara and daniela (in place of cindy) came from the dining hall and were talking about god knows what.

you didn't bother to pay them any mind, or well “them" as a whole, but you would sometimes pay lara a little mind.

but of course, it wouldn't be anything more than just the basic student and counselor relationship. they got along fairly well, like she did with all of the campers.

today just, felt, different though. it was like the atmosphere was off, in all honesty it felt like something was bound to happen.

you continued on walking though, and your friends disbursed into their own cabins while you walked to yours.

you heaved a heavy sigh before sitting on your bed, and lying back first. you would run your fingers through your hair, and and close your eyes.

you couldn't really change where your mind was going, in fact, you were only thinking about, lara? it felt weird, to say the complete least. you weren’t so cool with daniela, but you two also weren't on the worst terms.

you could really only sigh, if it wasn't the issue that they had with being camper and counselor, then it was definitely the relationship.

you always tried your best to just hide it but almost always having to be around her made you fall in love with her more, but were you to blame?

i mean, she was innocent, caring, really loving and kind. if you were to be honest with everyone, including yourself, you would get jealous seeing daniela and her hold hands as often as they did.

yeah, she wasn't yours, not yet at least, but to see her with another girl, fuck you hated it so much. you would sometimes would end up stumbling across her and dani while they kissed, but you would walk off and pretend like nothing happened.

they never knew though, they didn't ever mention it. you would always end up punching a wall though, never being able to come up to lara and tell her how you really felt.

you was easily caught up in your thoughts of lara, not hearing the door being knocked on. the quiet knocking quickly became louder and snapped the girl out of it.

you got off of your bed and opened the door, and speak of the fucking devil, "heyy! we missed you today in the dining hall, what happened?" lara asked you.

you had an insane impulse to just pull her into a kiss, but she was also holding direct eye contact which would've made it much more enjoyable —

but to say what didn't need to be said was that you didn't go through with kissing her but instead came up with some random excuse as to why.

and she, of course, bought it because, why would she not? you mentioned having an upset stomach, so she offered to go and get you some medicine and you gladly accepted.

something that was an important mention was that you loved seeing her run, but it was more than just loving her form but you genuinely enjoyed watching her run, you found it attractive, for some reason.

not long later she did return with the medicine, also with a few other items for you. she took some of the medicine while she demonstrated how to use it, and would also give you some water.

you would, of course, thank lara and she would get up to leave, and you let her go but it seemed once the door closed you were completely losing your mind.

you wanted, no, needed lara as yours. you swore to do everything in your power to make that possible and finally have what you deserved, or felt you did.

but it wasn't like a normal crush, one you’ve already gone through the getting to know them, already gone through the getting closer phase, basically every single phase that was required, you and lara had already done it.

but it wasn't like she could be alone with you for more than two minutes because why would a counselor need more than that much time with a student alone, so you really never had the chance to ever catch her because if she wasn't attending to her duties around the capmus, then her bitch of a girlfriend daniela had her and her attention.

you never could wrap your head around what lara saw in the latina, she was so, prissy, it was annoying. they weren't really anything alike, so how they made thngs work was beyond you, but you also didn't really give a flying fuck bevause you were going to make lara yours however you really had to.

it was't like the signs weren't there, it was obvious she felt the same, the way she would smile at you, the way she would talk to you, the way she would teat you and help you, how gentle she was with you.

she was as gentle as one would be with a fresh wet painting, it made you feel special but you always knew that she was just like that. as previously stated, she was a soft kind girl.

she was the innocent, "lara raj" after all. she was the heartthrob amongst the camp. and daniela fucking avanzini was the girl to get her first.

if we were to be honest, and let the reader be honest with herself for once, she didn't really care as heavily at first because she was a taken woman after all and she respected daniela at the time, and same for lara, so she wouldnt even graze the thought of doing such a thing.

but it just seemed one day, things weren't really the same, she would watch daniela and the same feeling of respect for her superior and admiration turned to straight jealousy and envy. she hated daniela, wanted her gone to be honest. but, "gone" is the nicest thing we could say she wanted to happen to the blonde.

but in somewhat of a cliche fashion, you found yourself alone with lara. something that was decently normal between the two was that they may run into each other randomly during the day and you would come up with any excuse in the book why you might need lara to stay there for a small while longer but somene would either walk in or you would freeze up so badly that you was unable to speak or even form words together to let lara know you liked her.

the second you would get close to her, your heartbeat and breathing would pick up, something you can always recall was when she helped wake you back up with cpr after you passed out.

the world felt like it was slowing down when you opened your eyes, seeing her looking at you with that same worried expression that she has now.

"y/n?" she said, throwing you out of your daze, "what's going on? why are you in here?" the indian woman asked, her eyebrow raising. your eyes quickly scanned over her, her outift and her entire demeanor, feeling your brain cloud while you felt weaker in your knees by the second. "oh, nothing jus uhh.." your eyes began to dart across the room, trying to find something to say to evade the conversation but once you finally looked back at lara, her brown orbs were looking back into yours.

but no words were spoken, the room fell completely silent. you silently hoped that someone would walk in and ruin this slightly awkward vibe but no one came to your rescue. lara looked away from you for a second, but looked back at you. she broke the silence, once gain asking why you were here and you told the truth. you didn't really have a reason to be inside of that room with her but they always had the most privacy there compared to anywhere else.

something in your head kept yelling, telling you to tell him now before it was "too late" whatever that meant. "lara?" you called for her, and she looked at you, "yea?" she asked, and you took a slow breath. she looked at you , and she placed her hand on yours.

you looked down at your hands, then back up at her, and her eyes were softy looking into yours and she nodded to you, reassuring you that it was okay to speak, and that you did. "i don't know how i can say this, it's hard." you said, your eyes quickly looking away from the black haired woman in front of you.

"take a breath, take your time", she smiled to you, “we have all the time in world" she said, her voice finishing off so gently. you could feel yourself melting to her touch and voice, but you knew you had to say something. "uhm. okay, see, i like you" you said, but as you finished your sentence your voice got lower to the point lara couldn't hear you.

"what was that?" she softly asked, her head tilting down with hers. she used her free hand to lift your head up to look at her.

“you can say it" she smled, god she looks so stupid. you looked into her eyes, "i like you, like i'm in love with you" you said, but quickly your speech picked up, "but i know it's wrong, you're already in a relationship and you're a consoler while i’m a camper, and you have-" she cut you off, kissing you.

her hand cupped your cheek, as their eyes closed at the same time, their lips slowly moving in sync. after a small while, they broke apart, "lara..” you exhaled against her lips after the kiss broke, and she smiled, "yes?" she answered. you were in pure shock, not being able to process what happened.

"i like you too, you know?" she said it, but so casually. "what?" you couldn't register anyhting that was happening. "wait, you like me?" she was just, surprised.

“yes! god, i could never tell you because of the slight worry you didn't feel the same" she said, keeping that same stupid smile on her face. they decided to say the magic words, "lara will you be my girlfriend?", "as long as you'll be my girlfriend" you just smiled, basking in this moment with lara.

it wasn't like something was off either, not like this was a dare or a prank to be played on you, she was being genuine. you sighed, finally feeling at peace to get that off of your chest. lara saw how late it was, knowing you should've been asleep a long time ago, so after they bided their goodbyes she went to hers and daniela’s shared dorm/cabin.

she locked the door, seeing the she was sleeping peacefully, something in her kept saying “don't have to do it, you shouldnt do it. it isn't worth it.” but it is. she walked her way to her bags, grabbing something sharp, specifically a knife with a blade of 12 inches.

the more closer she got to actally doing it, her brain screamed louder not to, but she didn't care. you see, somethig about lara is that she was definetly a character. she never really was what everyone would describe her as. of course, that was the facade she began to go by but the real lara raj wasn't all much of a saint, she didn't have good history with certain things, daniela being one of them but due to them having that dumbass "perfect couple" title, she ws forced to keep up the soft girl look, or “girl next door”.

the more she thought about how she had to hide the way he actual was and felt ever since they gaind that title, she would get more and more mad now standing over daniela, gripping the handle tighter than before. she raied the blade over her head, planning how she’s gonna through with this but deciding that this would be too messy.

so she carefull draged the sleeping girl into the bathroom, placing her in the bathtub, "damn, heavy sleeper huh?" she said, and chuckle to herself. this wasn't such a lara thing though, for one she would barely ever swear, two cause harm to someone, again she was known as someone who couldn't even harm a fly.

she held the knife again, this time pulling daniela’s face back and lining the blade with her throat. she had the knives pre sharpened before any of this, she didn't care how she had to do it, she was getting with y/n (you).

the girl didn't need any prep, and lined the blade back up, pressing her hand against her mouth as tightly as she physically could as she sliced the blade across her throat. the blood began to slowly fall down, but she did it again to ensure she was dead.

she then stabbed the blade into daniela’s throat before dragging it down through her chest, watching as the blonde woman’s blood began to stain the pajamas and their bathtub.

the redhead only continued, practically mutilating the sleeping woman’s body before coming to her senses and moved her hand off of her, looking at her handy work and smiling to herself, loving how she looked all bloodied up. she smiled watching the blood spill from her neck and the huge gash in her body, but would soon get bored of it, she would stab the knife directly into the other side of her chest, and went to wash her hands.

she changed her clothes, and went to sleep that night like nothing ever happened, which would be the case for so many days. she would live her life like nothing, ever happened, anytime someone would ask about daniela and/or her where abouts she’d would lie and say she went home early or whatever.

and what makes it better is that she got away with it for so long, she was successful until the smell began to stink up her room, she couldnt even be in there, she went to the bathroom and noticed that her body began decaying in the bathtub.

and so she decided that same night she would hide her body, she went and grabbed some bags along with rope and a shovel. it was dark out, meaning she'd need a flashlight, which always, never works out for anyone trying to get rid of a body this late.

she would contiue her stroll to the storage room, and walked inside in seach for a flashlight, which she'd find along with getting a heart attack from you randomly appearing behind her. she slightly jumped but didn't scream, "why are you in here?" she first asked, "how are you in here?" she asked another question to follow and you answered her.

"door was slightly cracked and when i walked past your room, it had a really bad scent to it" you said, hinting at the obvious stench of rotting flesh that filled her place of residence. you would just look at her, while she just looked back at you.

she sighed, "let's just say something got into my room and rotted before i was able to realize" she said, but you already knew what that something might be. it had been days since anyone had last seen daniela, and you, yourself hasn't done ayting to her so she knew it was lara’s doing but instead of it scaring you, or running you away, you instead wanted her so much more now.

"let me help get rid of it" you said, but lara shook her head, "no i don't think you should get involved" she said, grabbing the things that were needed before making her way to the door. and doing everything but listening to lara, you followed behind her and began to rapidly ask to be with her while she gets rid of the body.

it didn't take much longer before she gave in and allowed you to go along with her. she laid the body on the gound, slaminng it down due to how heavy it was and began removing the teeth fom the body. "why do you have to take her teeth out, eugh" you asked while turning away, gagging at the sight. “dental records, baby" she replied and then began to dig a shallow grave for her.

"how did you, do it?" you asked while they walked off, did you really care though? to say the least, no. but there was something about seeing her a sweaty mess while carrying the shovel while you two walked back that just made you feel insane.

"a simple slice to the throat, nothing too extravagant." she said casually, but was lying. your mouth was agape, “you slit her throat?" you asked, and she nodded.

you couldn't believe that lara, the camp’s virgin innocent princess, would murder someone, especially so off rip.

her modus operandi? love, what else would it had been? you were genuinely unable to wrap you head around the fact that she chose such an executon style, it was, attractive to you, for some reason. you loved that she killed for you, that she got rid of the bitch that you hated so much.

they didn't stop at the storage cloet to put away the stuff, instead they just took it wih them inside of lara’s place. she left all of her windows open to hopefully be rid of the stench that has now taken over her entier home.

she walked inside first, alerting you of the smell before opening the door and she went straight to the bathrom and began cleaning it.

she didn't use a lot of bleach, the smell was really obvious and intoxicationg so lara decided to use other other things to ensure evey last blood stain was cleaned.

it went as well as you'd expect any cleain proces to go, she even drained her of majority of her blood before she began to decay just incase the blood became an issue.

after she finshed cleaning the blood, she when and grabbed her a pair of clean clothes to wear and anything she’s worn in between the day daniela died until now were all getting burned.

while she was getting cleaned up, you was feeling a little silly and decided to go inside of the shower with her. she didn't hear your footsteps but felt when you got inside of the shower with her.

you didn’t move or do anything but instead stood there, partially hoping she didn't notice you but secretly hoping she did. she continued to shower like it was nothing though, but when she turned around to face you, she didn't see your face automatically and instead saw your head.

"darlin, look, my eyes are up here" she said and your eyes followed along her body, noticing her defined abs and just how hot she looked with wet hair. she held the back of your head and pulled you into a kiss, really there was no need for words, the tension was so thick it made it all so obvious.

you couldnt help but get so turned on during this kiss, you were already in love with the way her lips would move against hers, how soft but passionate she was with it, god it all drove you so crazy. you would moan into the kiss, and start pressing your wet naked body against hers, feeling her semi-hard cock against your clit.

lara broke apart from the kiss, you whining at the loss of contact but was quickly met with something better. she asked you to open your legs a bit, sliding her cock between your thighs. she held your hips and slowly thrusted her hips, you moaned lowly, you both held eye contact while she sped her hips up.

the sound of your skin slapping against each other filled the room, the water spilled down your bodies. her grip on your waist got stronger while she sped up, causing her to whimper a little while your moans quickly picked up.

the need for each other grew more and more by the second, so you both agreed fuck the shower and she brought you to her bed.

she laid you down on the bed, and began attacking and kissing at your neck. she left nice hickeys on you, your hands traveled down her body and you reached for her cock, lining her up with your entrance. she slowly pushed herself inside of you, she filled you up so slowly but fuck she had length on her.

she dragged her cock out of your cunt, before slamming back inside, she held your hips down and proceeded to slam down inside of you.

she fixed herself, sitting up completly and held your hips and began fucking into you. your moans picked back up, you were much louder than before. she kept with this pace, not speeding up but not slowing down either. she moved her hands along your body and contied thrusting inside of you, her hand stopped at your neck while she gently choked you.

the indian use used her free hand to began rubbing your clit while she thrusted. she changed their positions, now she was under you and lowering you down on her cock.

she slid back inside with ease, and grounded her feet on the bed before thrusting into your cunt. her hands began grabbing at your breast and playing with them, taking the other into her mouth.

"mmth fuck~ cumming" you moaned and unravels on her shaft, your cum coating her cock completely causing making it easier for her to slide in and out.

her cock began to twitch inside your warm cunt, the sound of your moans echoing throughout, along with her own and your wet skin hitting each other. due to the grip you had on her cock, she didn't care for anything.

she threw you back under her and forced all of herself inside of her, she put both of her hands on your neck and continued with a brutal pace, the need for each other continued to grow more by the second.

she watched as you slowly began to gasp for air, then she let go, focusing her hands elsewhere while you came once again.

she chuckled at the scene under her, seeing how much of mess you were but loving how pretty you looked while cumming on her cock.

she changed their positions again, this time making the girl sit on her cock, she held her hips and slowly guided her while rocking them.

you didn't know what to do with your hands, you loved being used by lara as a fuck toy but god you were mindless about where to place your hands.

she would hold your waist harder and proceed to slam you down in such an uneven rhythm it told you that she was close. she began thrusting up inside of you and you could feel how deep her cock was now, the bulge being seen through your abdomen was genuinely mind boggling to you.

once agains you came undone on her cock, but directly after your orgasm it followed lara’s and she slammed down for the final time before the grasp on your hips became tighter as she filled you up.

"god you sound so so pretty when you cum" lara panted out, still slowly rocking her hips inside of your tired body. you nodded weakly, not really being able to speak by this point, lara basically fucked your brains out.

she gently pulled herself out, and reached to get you a shirt. she slid on her boxers and quickly cuddled you, and kissed your forehead. they pressed their foreheads together while they attempted to catch their breath.

lara would slightly move her head to kiss you cheeks, her arms wrapping around your body, which prompted you to turn around and lay down to face the opposite on her but being directly against her chest.

she pulled you as close as your bodies would go, her arms wrapped around you gently. she pulled the covers over you, kissing your shoulder and neck gently. "i love you" she softly whispered against your sleeping figure, and a smile crept on her face.

[lsunstreakerl]

honestly, any strange ship, a while ago you had commented about Sebastian being a "guilty" "ship" something strange or guilty in that sense

this did not end up being sebastian- I mean, he's kind of there. I also need just not try and estimate word counts because this ended up being 1.3k. HI HELLO: this is from the kink prompts so it is explicit in nature, as in people are fucking and getting fucked.

pairings: mark webber/max verstappen, max verstappen/marc márquez, implied mark webber/sebastian vettel, implied daniel ricciardo/max verstappen

relevant heads up: slight exhibitionist kink, semi-socially acceptable public sex, sex under the influence of alcohol, the slightest hint of a temperature kink, mild slut shaming

Max doesn't make a habit of feeling out of place at parties, considering how often he's at them, but this-

This is totally different to anything else he knows. They're in some huge remote cabin-style resort, a weeklong trip entirely paid by Redbull.

Everyone in attendance is either an insane talent in their respect area, or a revered alum, which is how Max has found himself on his knees, Mark Webber's cock down his throat, with Sebastian Vettel piping in with incredibly unhelpful instructions.

"Little bit more tongue, yes, like that- he loves that. Hates to admit it, but nothing gets him off faster- also you'll want to close your eyes when he comes, he likes to get it all over the face, nasty-"

"Shut up."

Mark's talking to Sebastian, but Max is the one who gets his hair pulled roughly, which really doesn't feel fair here- he's not mouthing off, and it's not his fault Mark and Seb still don't have their shit figured out.

He makes a muffled noise around Mark, who groans at the vibrations, and Max realizes with a twinge of annoyance that he actually has been listening to Seb- which is fucking stupid, if Seb wants to suck Mark's cock he can come do it himself, but Max is going to do it his way.

He doesn't give any kind of warning, just watches his teeth before suddenly taking Mark all the way to the base, breathing through his nose.

He's not as impressive as Da- some other Australians Max has gotten on his knees for before.

Mark chokes on an inhale, fingers clenching in Max's hair, and Max grins to himself, because he's not Sebastian Vettel, and no matter how badly Mark wants to dominate a blonde bratty European Redbull world champion, he's not going to find it in Max.

Max deliberately moans, low and long, and Mark's hips jerk before they snap frantically into his mouth.

"Fuck- fuck, Sebastian-"

Oh come on.

People who can't call Max by his name do not get to come on his face, so he doesn't let up, keeps Mark down his throat as he comes, and it's longer than Max expected for a guy in his late forties, honestly.

Seb just laughs from his chair, and Max shoots him a glare as he pulls off, already thinking of which drink he's going to wash down the taste with.

"Cunts."

They can be weird and off putting and miserable together, Max doesn't care. It wasn't even that good anyways, and now he's not going to be able to look Oscar in the eye for a few weeks.

He stalks into the kitchen, passes Coulthard in the hallway, hopes he doesn't look too much like he just sucked off a retired driver in one of the lounge rooms.

Not that it would be surprising- Max had been freaked out the first time he was here, but he gets it now- it's like the Olympic Village. Redbull takes their hot, talented athletes, sticks them in a resort for a week, and lets them fuck like rabbits in the hopes of avoiding sex related PR crisis for the rest of the year.

It works pretty well.

He's checking for gin, fingers dancing over bottle caps, when a hand wraps around his waist, and Max knows that hand.

"Marc!"

He spins around, and then he has an armful of excitable MotoGP rider, hips pressing Max's into the counter while he's busy getting his tongue in his mouth.

Marc tastes like vodka and fireball, and Max wants to drink it straight from his system, wants to-

He pulls back for a second, meeting Marc's eyes. Marc is down for anything- Max loves that about him. The MotoGP guys know how to party.

"Do you want to do body shots and fuck on the pool table?"

Marc yanks his head back down to continue making out, one arm scrabbling behind Max for a familiar clink of a few bottles.

He pulls back to reach for some limes, and then he's grinning at Max, with his trademark brilliant smile.

"Yes!"

------

"Fuck- Marc, please, you are going to kill me-"

Max isn't used to being the one with his dick inside someone, but he's flat on his back on the table, and Marc is tight and hot and wet, sinking down onto Max, one hand braced on his chest as he grins at him.

Max tosses his head back onto the table, and his fingers are digging into Marc's thighs, corded muscle straining under his palms.

His mouth still tastes like lime and liquor, and he's pretty sure his neck is crusted with salt, and he's trying so hard not buck his hips up-

"You are so cute when you're trying to be good."

Max shudders, hands gripping tighter, and Marc is practically purring at him, because the game is that Max can't come first, and he was going to lose from the fucking start. They both knew it.

"Marc- Marc I'm gonna come, please please can I-"

Marc just shakes his head, eyes crinkled at the corner as he changes his pace on the next slide down, tight and irresistible. Max can feel himself shaking, closer and closer to the edge, and he squeezes his eyes shut, one last time-

Marc's fingers come down to pinch his nipples, and they're dripping with ice water, cold and freezing.

Max comes with a scream, back arching off the table, the sound of Marc's laughter ringing in his ears.

He's still riding the wave when Marc gets off of him, and then Max is being manhandled, rolled onto his chest as Marc knocks his knees apart. Everything is hot and cold and sensitive, and he's glad Daniel stretched him out earlier, because Marc pushes two fingers into him off the bat, scissoring Max open as he groans into the table.

"Aw, you are all loose. Whore."

Marc spits into him, and Max keens, scratchy fabric of the pool table rough against his chest, and then Marc is pushing in, splitting him wide, an endless press.

It's unfair for a man that small to be this hung.

Max is overwhelmed, slurring into the table as Marc snaps his hips in, and it's too soon from his last orgasm- he feels raw and peeled open, which is exactly when Marc leans over him, chest pressed to his back, and shoves three fingers and an ice cube into Max's mouth.

He bucks back onto Marc's cock at the sensation, the heat of his fingers and the chill of the ice, and he realizes what's next a second too late, squirming as Marc brings his other hand to wrap around his still soft cock, fingers ice cold.

"Ohhhhh, please, please-"

Marc nips at his back, and Max can feel him smiling at he starts to jack his hand, and it's too much- he feels too full, he's too raw and overwhelmed, he's pretty sure people are watching them-

Marc aims deliberately for his prostate, and Max is wailing, tips over into his second orgasm brutally, shaking to pieces underneath Marc.

He doesn't stop- his rhythm picks up, chasing his own pleasure- Max is limp, lets Marc use him however he wants, and he can't tell if it's seconds or minutes later when Marc snaps in for a final time, hips pressed flush against his ass.

Max slumps down as Marc pulls out, and then there's fingers gently patting at his cheek.

"You are as always very fun, Verstappen."

Max blinks, tries to get his brain started back up.

"Yup."

Marc giggles, and then he's gently kissing Max for a moment- he tastes like lime again.

"Thank you, you are very sweet- for being a slut."

Max half chokes on a laugh, because, well-

He kind of is. He's laid out on the pool table at what is technically a company event, and just tonight he's given multiple blowjobs, been fucked twice, and he's just come back to back.

It's a good thing they have mandatory testing before they get here.

"Anytime, Márquez."

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! Do you have any advice on how to handle an inherently fictional facial difference (that was caused by a fictional reason and while may have some partial crossover/parallels with elements of real world FDs, ultimately is a fictional one and is specific to the world/lore) in a way that would not come off as harmful to real facial differences? I also have some characters with actual real life FDs in the story, but maybe there's something else I should consider?

Also, what is your opinion on fictional disabilities in general? Not when the story just has a vague disability that can't be strongly connected to anything specific from real life, but when author specifically develops a fictional condition/disability/chronic disease etc in context of/based on elements of their fictional world?

Hello!

A fictional facial difference has basically the same potential pitfalls as any other fictional disability. You can take a look at this post where we talked about what not to do, TLDR: make sure it's actually a fictional disability and not just one you haven't heard of yet and be mindful of what real conditions it could be reminiscent of (and avoid stereotypes accordingly).

It's good that you also have characters with actually existing disabilities, it honestly annoys me to no end when people boast about their "disability rep" while all they have is 20 different "magic character can't do magic" characters. So this is definitely a big plus.

The only thing you need to keep in mind is to not split the two (character with fictional FD vs characters with IRL FD) into separate categories, consciously or not. Don't treat the one with a made-up FD as better or as inherently prettier than "those other people". Ideally they're all just treated the same in the story since that's the only option that makes logical sense.

Also, it was mentioned already in the post I linked, but unless you have some very specific scenario you purposefully want to do and actually comment on, avoid making the cause of her FD either 1) result of her parents doing Evil Drugs or black magic or whatever or 2), contagious. Very little FDs have those origins, but many are stereotyped or downright accused of being such.

Other than that, think of the same stuff as you would with IRL facial differences existing in a story. How does society treat them? What is the acceptance level? Are the majority of people knowledgeable (a person can know exactly nothing about being disabled and still be kind and accepting; it's not exclusive)? Are FDs more common because medicine is less advanced?

For the last question; it depends. If it has symptoms that real people have, there are gonna be real people who will relate to it (if done well) and real people who might be offended by how it's portrayed (if done badly).

Let's say your setting has a magic toxic flower that causes lower limb paralysis and/or weakness after someone steps on it - that's fictional, but there are many real world disabilities that share similar symptoms, even if the cause is obviously very different. If this was the fictional disability, the characters who have it would probably share the same community as characters with SCI, neuropathy, MS, etc.; it's based in fantasy but it's easy to imagine that it could be real.

In this context you should be researching the symptoms - leg paralysis and weakness - and potential treatments - physical therapy, learning how to walk with orthoses/crutches, painkillers, etc. Real readers with real symptoms will be able to relate to this kind of fantasy disability.

But let's say the fictional disability mainly presents as chronic pain and muscle spasms caused by the person not using magic enough. This on the other hand, doesn't work as a (respectful) fantasy disability. The main "accusation" people with chronic pain get is that we are lazy and if we just did more of [usually exercise] we would be cured - it doesn't work like that, and it would be frankly offensive to make a whole illness where the chronic pain is caused by someone not waving their wand enough or whatever. No one will be relating to this because it's not based on how stuff works, it's based on a stereotype. "It's fantasy" isn't a get out of jail free card, you still have to be conscious of what you are implying.

As long as you do research and keep in mind which real things your fantasy disabilities resemble (e.g. Hansen's disease and ALS will have very different stereotypes attached to them) so you can avoid making a connection you don't want to make.

Hope this helps,

mod Sasza

[fenrysmoonbeamswife]

But like I said, if she wasn't thinking that when she wrote it why give a justification? You don't justify something you don't think is wrong or at least questionable

I do agree she romanticizes sensitive subjects for the sake of sex but it feels like a contradiction to say that and then say she didn't think of it? I think she absolutely does think of it and just doesn't care

I don't think it's fair to say people are nitpicking when at the end of the day they are both character and writing flaws. The characters are flawed because the writing is flawed, but they are still flawed. As I said, saying they're a byproduct of her bad writing is weak because it can then be attributed to literally anything in any book like my example of Amarantha. I think people should be allowed to try find nuance or "nitpick" if you want to call it that, even if it is bad writing and regardless of author intention, because I do belive it's giving her a free pass to say pretty much the equivalent of "it's not that deep" which is essentially what I'm getting from this post overall

I hope this doesn't sound rude or anything because I don't mean it to, I do get what you're saying and I'm not saying you're wrong just how I see it. I do think we all probably drive ourselves insane trying to discuss these books critically when SJM probably put about a raindrop sized amount of genuine thought into them so we're just going around in circles but I think the nitpicking or whatever from some readers is the reason she has been called out and been asked to step up. It's the reason so many more people than before don't just blindly follow what she writes/spoon feeds them. It was for me anyway and plenty of others. I just think saying oh it's not that deep she was just trying to be horny and handled it badly is true but I think it does give her a free pass. Because I've absolutely seen her stans say something similar

can i say something . can i be brave . a lot of y’all are trying to find endogenic reasons for characters in acotar doing things when the reason they did them was not because they are abusive / morally bad characters but because sjm wanted to make the books horny. did rhysand have to paint feyre and waltz her around the parties under the mountain basically naked? did he have to distract the hewn city by making feyre a pet and touching on her in front of everyone? no. sjm wrote it to be horny. did azriel need to be a cringecore emo fuck (affectionate) talmbout sad shower jerks and the cauldron giving him elain? no. sjm wrote it to lay the tension for being horny later. did cassian have to do anything he did in acosf? no. sjm wanted to be HORNY. all these things are shitty not great things for the characters to be doing, but the characters aren’t doing them because they’re inherently problematic; they’re doing them because the author wants to be horny, and they become problematic as a byproduct. there are plenty of actions and plots and decisions to be rightfully critical of in these books — trust me i want to 1v1 the inner circle in a pit — but some of the takes i’ve seen on this hellsite are trying to apply nuance to things done purely for the sake of being horny and it’s driving me crazy