#brought to you this time by a fic i read earlier lol

[sojourner-between-worlds]

Unpopular opinion/hc: Yusei would actually not pass the test for NDC/Japan's equivalent of a GED nearly as easily as expected.

Don't get me wrong. Dude's a freaking genius.

But he also had very little to no formal schooling.

Which means he can solve massive equations in his sleep and explain quantum physics as easily as breathing but he was never forced to learn that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. -- In other words, he would have missed a lot the stuff considered "general knowledge".

He studies his butt off for months and yeah he passes well enough, but only just in some areas. (Which is all he needs, so he's happy enough with it, its good enough with MIDS backing to get into uni to get his degree to keep working for them. And that he gets as easily as everyone expects because its specialized for the most part, after all.)

[deformedcat]

the fake princess

pairing: reincarnated male reader x yandere prince oc

fic includes: arranged marriage, cross dressing, reader's death (briefly mentioned), Dom to sub bottom male reader, rough sex, rimming 2x, gruwhdbwb will add more in the morning

note: THIS IS NOT FINISHED!! tumblr is rlly messing me up by posting my work earlier whenever i save my draft lol. feel free to read as i write the ending. reader is male! a male!! a certain character will be calling him "lady" for the plot!! i wont spoil much but please keep that in mind ;; this is messy lmao

poor you were just on the way back to your apartment after a barbeque party with your friends— until a drunk man grabbed you from the dark alley way and stabbed you in the stomach and pussied out after he realized what he did.

is this how you die? fuck, he couldve do you a favour by taking you out in one go and not run away?? loser behaviour.

you laid down in your own blood in the dimly lit alley way, your vision slowly getting blurry as your surrounding turns into a blur of colours and into nothing.

before slipping into darkness, you heard a loud voice shouting out your name. its too late, bootlicking shitfuck.

you opened your eyes by the sound of bird chipping, you stared up at the bright blue sky accompanied by someone with dark brown hair and green eyes staring back at you.

"Lady Amador.. it's time to go back to the palace. the prince is looking foward for you during lunch time."

who the fuck is lady amador, and why are they wearing a maid outfit?

sitting up, you take note of the grass underneath you instead of the rough concrete floor from earlier- are you hallucinating to the point youre in this nice garden..? huh, why are you wearing a dress, did a creep kidnapped you and dress you in one of their grandma's dresses?!

panicking, you got up towards the pond and looked into your own reflection. you still looked the same as before, you cant say the same since your hair looked much longer and the light makeup on your face.

lady amador.. prince?? garden.. holy- is that a palace behind you?! whats going on?!

before you could brainstorm any longer, the person from earlier waved their hand in front of you, catching your attention. "lady amador, its time to go. prince sebastian is looking for you."

prince sebastian? sebastian..

slowly, everything clicked to you, did you really reincarnated as one of the characters in the novel "The Villainess's Ultimate Plan!" holy shit.

you touched your face, and then looked into the pond again, that face..

the villainess younger brother?!

the one who disguised as the protagonist.. the one that planned the entire scheme to assassinate the crown prince but end up getting beheaded one day after the wedding night?!

with that information, your vision fade into black once again.

"My lady?!"

jerking awake, you hunched over, clasping a hand against your face. you slowly takes a few deep breathe, you slowly brought your hand away.

you looked to your side, the same person from earlier is standing next to you with a worried expression. not only them, a man with bright gold hair is sitting on a chair nearby reading a book.

prince fucking sebastian. the man that you're supposed to kill during you and the prince's wedding night.

he looked up from his book and walked up to you, you flinched away when he raised his hand, he stopped his action before he promptly caressing your face.

"you, please step out of Lady Penelope's room." he ordered the person (the maid maybe?), and they complied.

there was an awkward silence in the room, he was still holding your face, you looked at the side, scared to hold any eye contact with the man in front of you.

"look at me." he said in a stern voice, like a mom scolding her child.

so you did, afraid of any consequences. (since he was the same man that's willing to destroy the kingdom for your supposed sister.)

he let go of your face before sitting onto the side of the bed, his face is blank,, as if he dont care about you, but the worried tone in his voice said otherwise.

"y/n." you jumped at the name, how did he know your name- wasnt he supposed to call you by your sister's name ?! before you can say amything, he cut you off.

"..i was waiting for you at the dining table, but i got the news of you fainting in the garden right after waking up from your nap."

"..i apologize."

he leans in towards you, settling his hands onto your face once again as if to inspect for any injuries, he lets go once again when he saw no visible injuries.

"i know you prefer to be called lady amador when it comes to appearing as your sister, but a maid was here, and i have to convince people we have a medium love with each other.

especially when our wedding night is two days from now on."

what. the story already started?! no- screw that, how did he know you were pretending to be penelope?!

"how did you know im not lady penelope?" you kissed your teeth, gripping onto the comforter, subtly slapping the prince's hand away when he tried to reach for yours.

"lady penelope had sent a letter to me, personally stating about her plan, and we agreed on one term: i keep you safe and she sends me information of the war, simple.

though, i shall say, youre quite the beauty."

you were about to curse at penelope but your ears becoming warm after he said that, he chuckled before getting up of the bed.

"most married or engaged couples have monthly night together, and ours is two night from now on. we wont do anything sensual, do not worry."

"what-"

"see you tomorrow at lunch, dear." he kissed you on the forehead before walking out of your room.

for the next two days, you learnt the person at the garden is your personal maid, Andrea. apparently she found you laying on the ground at the garden (that sebastian built for you.) after you stated you were gonna take a stroll.

you also met your personal knight, William, Penelope's second love interest but was sadly killed when he defended you during your trail.

the three of you got along well, often seen having conversation near the garden or having tea party together. sebastian watched from his office and smiled at the sight of you chatting with Andrea.

william on the other hand,, have been too close to you for his liking. he nearly ripped an important paper when he saw william wiping off some biscuit crumbs from your face- why is he so touchy? Andrea couldve done that using a napkin.

he broke his pen, the black ink soaked his hand and his paper work. did you like damian better than him? why did you become flustered when the knight spoke about something?

should he get rid of him?

how troublesome.

he remembered when a butler and notify him what happened to you. he nearly tear down the entire palace when you didnt wake up for two hours he almost frown when you flinched and move away from him when he reach out to you. the way you were nervous around him,,

he slowly calmed down, reminding himself that you and his night together is tonight. he sighed, he should finish his work first then meet you tonight.

back in your chamber, Andrea and a few other maids helped you to get ready, even helping you to take a bath. you enjoyed the smell of lavender from the soapy water, an old maid massaged your body when you're just soaking inside the bathtub.

the old lady was kind enough to even offer you a drink as she tells you stories of her youth.

after that and when Andrea deemed you 'clean', began to dress you into a white night gown made with the finest silk, the strap of the grown barely hanging on your shoulder. the maid had explained that you have to wear this because 'the prince gave the gown as a gift.'

was he not shameless when his gift includes a set of lingerie?!

you fidget around with the ring, Andrea styled your hair into a loose braid, making sure you look presentable before leading you to the prince's chamber. you insisted that you walked by yourself, so she went back to the maid headquarter.

walking down the dimly lit hallway, no one is wandering except for a few knight patrolling. you soon arrived in front of his room, knocking a few time to make your presence known "sir sebastian-"

before you could finish, sebastian opened the door and grab you by the waist, dragging you into the room.

he lifts you up and carries you to the spacious bed, he gently laid you down and take a whiff of your scent before mumbled out a "you smells nice.."

you looked at him with wide eyes, he was only wearing a robe- your eyes wonders down and sees his toned body that he had clearly worked on. he noticed you and grinned, taking your hand and putting it on his chest

"like what you see?"

if you could kill him right now you would.

instead, you pushed him down the bed, him lying down on the bed and you on top.

"what if i do?

also.. i will be the one in charge tonight."

you leaned down, opening his robe hastily and take one nipple into your lips.

sebastian nearly flipped you over, but he held himself back. he moaned when you grinned onto his crotch, he lightly tugged your hair, leaning in as if asking for a kiss.

you gave him what he wanted, he softly moaned into the kiss, slowly his hand make its way towards your shorts, pulling it down your ankle before he pulls away from the kiss.

he sat up against the bed frame and settled you on his lap, he took in the sight of you wearing his gift- that he had commissioned for it to fit you, and god.

you are so pretty.

hair messy from the kissing session, the collar of the gown was low enough for him to see the lacey bra, a garter designed with silver lining tightly wrapped around your thigh and the underwear that only covered your erected cock-

he want to eat you up,,

so he did.

Sebastian was known to be a beast in bed as he was known in the battlefield,, was what the novel described him.

Unfortunately they were true to their words, his thrust was harsh and deep, creating impacts thats enough to make you cry out.

so much of being gentle?! he even ripped off your outfit, leaving you naked!

he was nice enough to eat you out earlier, even giving you to opportunity to ride his face.

sebastian continue with this harsh pace, holding one of your leg onto his shoulder while another holds your hand. his apologized multiple times while grunting, saying things likes

"im sorry- ah! youre so tight!"

"mm- if you keep moaning like that- hng! i wont be able to slow down-"

"dear.. mmh.. im sorry.. i'll take care of you later-!" im gonna kill you, you handsome bastard!!

you clung onto him on each thrust, it just feel so-! sebastian suddenly changed the position, pushing you on your knees while holding your arms at the back,

"se-sebasti- ah! wait-! mngh!" he holds your hand behind you back tightly to ground you, the position didnt help at all, you couldnt muffle your moans and his dick reach deeper than it did in the previous position.

he panted, letting go of your arms fearing that your arm is sore. he gave an apologetic kiss on your forehead before continuing .

he grunted when you tighten around him, he tried to sooth you by giving stroking your cock, but that only add to the pleasure as you cried out of overstimulation.

you felt like you were melting.

you had climax into sebastian's hand, fuck- why isnt he stopping-?! you continued to cry out before he stuff his finger with your cum into your mouth, you immediately bit onto his fingers to muffle your moans.

his climax came sooner than you expected, he twitched and came inside. he slowed down his thrust, riding out his climax before pulling out.

you panted, thinking its over,, until sebastian gripped your aas and spread them apart revealing your winking hole, dripping out his children batter.

without hesitation, he dive in as if its his last meal, slurping and eating his own cum. you moaned at this, trying to push him away but he stayed still.

"what are you-"

"round 2? gotta have heirs for the future y'know.." he said with a toothy grin, flipping you over your back and pressing you thigh until your ankle reach your chest.

"ah?!"

the knights guarding outside sebastian's chamber looked at each other then looked down, the two of them had an erection from your moaning- tone it down sometimes!

a/n: not proud with this one, will check and edit it in the morning (its 3.56 am right now) goodnight ^_^

[pretty-circa006]

I guess your bio clearly states you write for Negan, but it doesn't explicitly state you write only for Negan. So I'm thinking I should just ask. Are you open to writing a dadsbsf!Rick and dadsbsf!Negan x reader fic, they have a rivalry and are always trying to one up eachother to get in the readers good graces, but little do they know you already want them (both) and you get them (both). Ik this isn't something you normally write and it's totally fine with multiple partners. But you're clearly a great writer and I just had to ask. It's totally fine you don't take this request or even ignore it. But if you were to write could do something with an age gap and a minx reader and mean Rick and Negan but only during steamy, but otherwise they sprinkle their lives on you.(Maybe this could be series or something it doesn't have to be oneshot and you could your time exploring the idea, idk why I'm so passionate about this lol)

Thanks, for hearing me out, believe me ik this a tall order. Again it's totally fine if you ignore this!!!

P.s idk why I added the photos I'm sorry 😭😭😭😭(them trying to mark their territory trying to make the other back off of you???)

dadsbsf! Negan x F! Reader x dadsbsf! Rick

summary Negan and Rick are over at your house, joining your dad for a game of poker. tags gambling, mentions of smoking and alcohol consumption, age gap (reader is college aged and Rick and Negan are kinda old...like late 40s early 50s?)

wc 2.3k

note i really liked this request and i hope i interpreted it correctly, if not, i sincerely apologize! just fyi, i plan on making this multiple parts, which is why there's no smut....YET! :P

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

She loves summer. It's more so what comes with it, rather than the season itself. Being back home from college and finally having her own space in her own room and her own bathroom with her own shower. Most of all, she loves the late nights in her backyard, swimming in the pool beneath the bright stars, cicadas buzzing and crickets chirping in the background. 

Tonight's one of those nights. The dark, starry, cloudless sky accompanies her she floats on her back around the pool, enjoying the peace of the summer night. All she's missing is a nice midnight snack. The warm, humid nighttime air feels good against her wet skin as she climbs out the pool. She forgot to bring a towel with her when she came out earlier, but that doesn't matter since she's getting right back in anyway. Barefoot, she saunters across the soft grass to the sliding glass door that leads into her house. 

"Honey, where's your towel? You're dripping all over the floor," her dad complains as soon as she steps inside. Feeling the freezing air conditioning on her wet body also has her wishing she brought a towel. 

"Sorry, I forgot, but I..." She trails off, finally noticing that her dad isn't alone and that he's at the dining room table with his best friends, Rick and Negan, in the middle of a game of poker. 

"Hi, Rick...Negan," she awkwardly greets, folding her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling naked in front of the two. 

"I'll be right back, gonna go grab her a towel," her dad explains, excusing himself from the table. 

"Late night swim?" Negan teases while shamelessly eyeing the freezing girl's half-naked body. Her face grows hot as she feels his hazel eyes undressing what little clothing she has on. 

"Why don' you join us for a game?" Rick suggests with a pat to the seat beside him. 

"But I dunno how to play." Despite this, she takes the seat anyway. Rick pulls the chair closer to him until he can't anymore. 

"I'ma teach ya how." This earns a scoff from Negan. 

"Doll, you don't want this fuckin' prick teachin' ya how to play poker." 

"This comin' from the idiot who lost five hundred dollars last time we played," Rick fires back. Negan rolls his eyes and flips him the bird. 

She bursts into a fit of giggles at their rivalry. "I think I'll stick with Rick. I don't have much money to lose." 

Her dad finally comes back into the room, towel in hand. He tosses it at her and it lands over her head like a ghost costume. 

"Hey!" she huffs as she fixes the towel properly around her shoulders. Her father just huffs a laugh at her plight. 

"Rick's gonna teach me how to play poker," she tells her dad excitedly. He grimaces which earns a snicker from Negan. 

"If ya want any chance at winnin', you'll have your ol' man to teach ya, but hey," he raises his hands in mock surrender before taking his seat. 

“I’m stickin' with Rick.” Rick gives her a soft smile and places his large hand on her thigh. Shivers run down her spine, and she’s sure it’s not from the air conditioning. 

“You can jus’ watch this game and we’ll deal you into the next.” She nods in agreement and leans over Rick’s shoulder to look at his cards -a three of clubs and a three of spades-, ignoring the water droplets dripping from her hair onto his shirt, but he doesn’t seem to mind either. She has no idea what’s going on since she joined in mid-game, but by the looks of everyone’s faces…she still can’t tell what’s going. Her father’s face is blank and Negan’s has an air of mischief to it, but then again, it almost always does. Rick looks calm as his eyes move from his cards to the three that lie in the table’s center. 

“Wha’s goin’ on?” She whispers in his ear. He leans down to her level and explains to her that the three cards in the middle are the flop and that things are looking good for him. She nods and leans closer to get a better look. The three men all slide more chips into pile. Negan reveals another card next to the three, which Rick informs her is called the turn. They bet again and Negan reveals one last card - the river, Rick tells her- before they all reveal their hands. 

“Two pair,” her dad dejectedly reveals. 

“Three of a kind,” comes Negan’s reveal. 

“Full house,” Rick calls out smugly as he takes the pile of chips

“See, I knew Rick was gonna win!” She cheers, causing the two other men to groan in annoyance. Rick squeezes her thigh, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Negan who’s glaring daggers at the blue eyed man. 

“You playin’ this round, hon?” Her dad asks, shuffling the cards. She happily agrees and deals her in. 

“Ya sure ya wanna stick with Rick? He was just fuckin’ lucky last round,” Negan bargains. 

“Lucky and four hundred dollars richer! I’m stickin’ by him.” Rick flashes Negan the smuggest look ever before wrapping his arm around her, pulling her closer. 

“Got my good luck charm right here.” 

“See if you get so lucky this time ‘round,” her dad challenges as he deals out two cards to each player. She looks at her cards, still not fully sure on how to play. She slides in a chip alongside everyone else, which Rick explains is the ante. Her dad reveals the flop and she looks from it to her own cards, not knowing what plays she has, if any. She glances over at Rick who’s immersed in his own cards. 

“Rick, what do I do?” She whispers. 

“C’mere, I’ll help ya out,” he offers with a pat to his lap. She climbs onto his lap from her own chair, leaving her towel behind. Her dad doesn’t bat an eye. Rick is one of his best friends, basically a brother to him, and in turn like family. At least that’s the way he sees it, like a simple loving action between good family friends. 

But Rick can hardly focus on either of their cards. Having her on his lap is distracting. Her plush ass sits directly on top of his crotch and he can feel himself getting hard as she shifts around to get comfortable. If she can feel it too, she doesn’t move away or say anything. He rests his chin on her shoulder as he looks at her cards -an eight of diamonds and an eight of hearts- his beard prickling against her soft skin. 

“See that eight of spades on the table, you’re close to havin’ a four of a kind,” he whispers. 

“Is that good?” 

“Very.” Nobody’s looking, so he presses a quick kiss to her shoulder. She stifles a giggle at the ticklish sensation of his beard against her skin. They all bet again and the next card is revealed. She shifts around excitedly once she sees another eight on the table.

“Keep still, sweetheart,” Rick warns, growing harder in his pants. She doesn’t say anything, but Rick can see her shoulders shake with more stifled laughter. Everyone places another bet before the river is revealed and they all show their hands. 

“Full house,” Negan says as he reveals his cards. 

“Flush,” her dad reveals. 

“Two pair,” Rick shows his hand. 

“Four of a kind,” she apprehensively says, showing her own hand. 

“Maybe she is some kinda goddamn good luck charm,” Negan grunts. 

“Did I win?” She asks, noticing the proud but somehow simultaneously disappointed faces around the table. 

“You did, sweetheart, good job!” Rick says, hugging her from his position behind her. She gets up and presses a quick kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to his lips before skipping into the kitchen. 

“That was fun, but I’ma head back to the pool now.” Negan watches her struggle to reach a snack in one of the cabinets. She jumps a few times, her ass jiggling a bit each time she lands. He stands up and joins her in the kitchen, watching her pathetically try a few more times before standing behind her and effortlessly grabbing the bag of chips. He even opens it  before handing them to her. 

“T-thanks,” she says turning to face him and taking the bag. Her whole body feels like it’s on fire as she stares up at him. He’s standing so close to her, basically pinning her against the counter. His tongue glides across his bottom lip as he hungrily eyes her up and down, eyes lingering on her tits that her bikini top could hardly contain. 

“You’re welcome.” She doesn’t know what to say or even if she should say anything. Her eyes wander down to his strong arms that are folded across his chest, his tattoos on full display. She bites her lip when her eyes graze over the slight bulge in his pants. She can’t tell if he’s hard or just big, but either way she desperately needs to take a dip in the pool to cool the heat building up inside of her. 

“I’m gonna go back out now, bye!” She slips away from him and hurries out to the backyard before jumping into the pool. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

She had about thirty minutes alone until she hears the sliding glass door open. Out comes Rick in nothing but his swimming trunks and a beer in hand. He doesn't seem to see her as he makes his way to the hot tub. He gets in, letting out a sigh of relief as he feels the hot water relaxing his muscles. He rests his arms around the ledge and tilts his head back, relaxing and the sight is delicious. She climbs out the pool and carefully steps into the hot water beside Rick. 

"Hey darlin'," Rick greets once she's sitting beside him. 

"What're you still doin' here? Isn't it past midnight?" she asks. 

"Me 'n Negan wanted the hot tub for a bit, but your old man's done for the night." 

"Oh. Okay." She's looking at Rick in a way he can't decipher. Her eyes hungrily trail across his body as she scoots closer and suddenly, she's in Rick's lap like before. 

"I can still sit here, right?" 

"Of course," he reassures, his hands resting on her thighs, fidgeting with the waistband of her bikini bottoms. He rests his chin on her shoulder, just relaxing and enjoying the feeling of her against him. 

The sliding glass door opens again, a jarring interruption to their peace. She flinches, scared one of her parents were about to come out and see her and Rick in a compromising position, but Rick, seeing that it's only Negan, holds her tighter. He joins them in the hot tub with a beer in hand and cigar between his lips. In nothing but his swim trunks, his hairy chest and tattoos are on full display, taking all of her attention away from Rick. If looks could kill, Negan would have murdered Rick with his hazel colored death glare. The tension in the hot tub is so thick, it's almost suffocating. Negan being there somehow makes her feel guilty for being so close to Rick, but leaving his lap isn't something she wants to do either.

"Hey, Negan," she says in a weak attempt to relieve the tension and kill the awkward silence. 

"Hey doll," he takes a drag from the cigar before blowing out the smoke, "congrats on winnin' your very first poker game." 

"Thanks...couldn'ta done it without Rick, really." She subconsciously leans further into Rick and he presses a few scratchy kisses to her shoulder and the back of her neck. Negan rolls his eyes at both her and Rick. 

"C'mere," he commands with a come hither motion. She swallows nervously, looking from man to man. Rick can feel that she wants to get up so he unravels his arms from her waist so she can, which she does, albeit apprehensively. Even though he didn't tell her to, she sits on Negan's lap, her cunt right atop his growing boner, the only barriers between them being his swim trunks and her bikini bottoms. His beard tickles the side of her face as he leans down to whisper in her ear.

Rick watches the two with an intense gaze, almost as if he was daring Negan to try something with his girl. Negan's arms are around her now as he whispers something in her ear. Rick is sure he's just talking shit  but jealousy still twinges in his chest. 

"Anything that asshole thinks he can teach ya, I can do it better," Negan whispers. Rick sees her giggling and she turns her head to whisper something back to him. 

"Yeah? Then why'd ya lose both games earlier?" she teases. He lets out a laugh which catches Rick's attention. His blue eyes glare daggers at Negan who only spares him a smug glance. 

"Didn't wanna embarrass poor Rick over here by beating his ass in front of ya," he says loud enough for Rick to hear. His voice returns to a whisper. "As for the other game...you just got pretty damn lucky." 

"Mmhmm sure," she replies sarcastically with an eye roll. She stands up and wades her way to the hot tub's stairs. 

"G'nite y'all," she wishes them as she exits the tub. 

"Goin' to bed already? Night's just started?" Negan complains, already missing having her on his lap. 

"It's almost three in the mornin'," Rick comments looking at his watch. "Night, sweetheart!" 

"See you both at the barbecue tomorrow!" She blows them both a kiss before skipping off toward the house. She can feel their gazes boring into her, particularly her ass as she does so. 

[oneofnanamisgirls]

Nanami Kento Pt. 4

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synopsis: you have to cancel your date with nanami because you are sick. he comes to take care of you.

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cw: embarrassment LOL

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A/N PLEASE READ: OKAY HI GUYS!! first off i wanted to say the last few weeks have been hectic! i was sick so that prompted me to write this, plus i had time to kill. i felt like this smau story was going a bit slow, so i decided to write a little (kinda? like 2k words) fic to go along with the text smau. i want to write more! so any suggestions/comments on this story would be APPRECIATED, so pls lmk! <33 ty if you read this<33

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Nanami opens the door, that you had managed to unlock before passing out. He drops the bags on the small table that sits inside the doorway. He reaches down for you, making sure you are still breathing. He lifts you to place you somewhere more comfortable than the hard wooden floor you lay on.

He notices the sweat beads on your forehead. The fever was worse than he expected. He searches the bathroom for a wash cloth. He runs the water cold, ringing out the cloth so it's not dripping. He carefully places the cloth on your forehead, covering your eyes with it.

He takes a look at you, making sure you are alright. He takes this time to clean up the used tissues that have missed the bin. He looks around your apartment for disinfectant to clean up for you.

He waits on the couch outside of your bedroom, keeping the door open to listen for you. He reaches for one of the books piled on your coffee table from the library. None of them were anything he would pick up, but he enjoys reading.

Many hours pass before you wake up, reaching at the cloth over your eyes. Your coughing notifies Nanami that you're awake. As he reaches the door frame, you can't help but notice the little room above his head and the frame.

"Nanami?" Your voice is hoarse and laced with confusion.

"Y/n, how are you feeling?" He asks, approaching the bed.

"How are you here?" You ask, trying to replay what happened earlier.

"I was already on my way over, the door was unlocked when I came to bring you medicine." He tells you, and you remember unlocking the door. You were dizzy and lightheaded earlier.

"I don't remember you coming in." You tell him.

"You were passed out on the floor." He tells you.

"I don't remember." You shake your head. Your throat is dry, you reach for the glass of water to take a sip. The glass is heavy and it drops to the floor.

The frustration of how sick you have been and the confusion causes you to feel overwhelmed. You flop down to the pillow and let a cry out.

"Hey hey, it's alright." Nanami ushers to the broken glass, debating which is more important right now. Thankfully the short drop only caused the glass to break in four pieces.

"I don't remember letting you in." You cry out. Nanami reaches to rub your back in comfort.

"You didn't Sweetheart, I came to bring you medicine and soup. I knocked, I called, I texted, I was worried so I tried the door. Do you remember unlocking it?" He asks you in a gentle voice. You nod. "That's how I came in. You were passed out on the floor, I brought you in here."

"I don't remember passing out Nanami." You sob into the pillow.

"You are sick, you haven't been taking care of yourself." He tells you, you feel ashamed.

"I couldn't. I feel so weak." You let out.

"It's okay, I'm here. Let it out." He pulls the hair off your neck and to the side.

You cry into the pillow, letting your shame and frustration out. He was right, you weren't taking care of yourself. You thought that it would pass on its own.

Your cries ease after a while, the frustration and shame was slowly seeping out of you. Between heavy breathing, you hear your stomach growl so loud you grow embarrassed.

"I'm sorry." You whisper.

"You must be hungry. Let me heat up the soup I brought." He tells you.

"Thank you Nanami." You look up at him with puffy eyes.

You watch as he picks up the broken glass and exits your bedroom. You notice the floor is free of tissues and there is a new box set on your nightstand.

Nanami returns with an electrolyte drink for you. You watch as he twists it open for you, he knew that you felt weak and knew you wouldn't be able to open it alone.

"Can you hold it up?" He asks as you take the drink. The bottle that would normally feel like nothing in your hands felt heavy. You shake your head and he helps you lift it to your lips.

You take a few sips before he sets the drink beside you on the table. You become aware of the sweat that has dried all over your body.

"I need a shower." You cough out.

"After you eat, okay?" Nanami looks at you, causing a nod.

He leaves the room to finish warming the soup. A bit later he returns with the bowl and spoon. He sets it down and comes back with the medicine.

He places the bowl on your lap and hands you the spoon. He wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable by feeding you.

The soup feels good against your throat that has been sore and irritated the last few days. You couldn't remember the last time you ate a meal. You've been getting by on just granola bars since you had no energy.

Nanami watches as the light is returning to your face. He doesn't show the smile he feels. He hands you the drink and you take a few sips, before returning to the soup.

"Thank you for all of this." You say to him as he grabs the empty bowl from your lap.

"It is no problem." He tells you before going to clean the bowl. He comes back and opens the box of medicine, taking out the two pills for you. He places them in your hand and you swallow them.

"You should feel a bit better soon. You wanted shower? Do you feel up to it now?" He asks you.

"I think so, thank you again." You push your legs to hang off the bed, sitting up.

Nanami takes notice how your feet don't touch the floor. He realizes he is hovering over you and steps back.

You push your hands into the mattress as you push yourself up. You're still a bit weak, Nanami catches you as you stumble.

"Sorry." You let out.

"I will wait outside the door in case." He assures you.

He helps you in the bathroom and even turns the water on for you. He shuts the door behind him.

The water feels good against your skin, it is warm and washing away all the sweat from the fever. The steam helps clear your sinuses.

You don't realize how long you have been in there until your fingers prune up. The steam seeps through the crack under the door. You step out, feeling yourself get dizzy again.

"Nanami." You call, hoping it was loud enough for him to hear.

He opens the door up, seeing you cover your body with the shower curtain, leaning against the wall.

"Light headed." You tell him.

"It's a sauna in here. Where is the towel?" He asks looking around. He stops to look at the pile of clothes on the floor and snaps his eyes back to you.

"Behind the door." You tell him, breathing heavily.

He shuts the door and pulls the towel off the hook. He closes his eyes for privacy as he wraps the towel around you. He guides you back to your room and sets you on the bed.

You notice the new set of sheets on the bed and new blanket. You look at the dirty ones in the hamper.

"You changed my sheets?" You ask, gripping the towel against your body.

"You needed clean ones after your shower." He tells you. "Can you get dressed okay?" He offers you a small cup of water.

You nod and he exits, shutting the door behind him. You slowly put pajamas on, being careful not to move too fast.

"I am all done." You call to him, sitting back on the bed. Your hair drips down your back, but flipping over to wrap the towel around your hair would make you dizzy again.

"Your hair is soaking against your back." He takes the towel and sits behind you. He lifts the towel to your hair, squeezing the water out.

"Nanami." You start, worrying about the proximity, he could get sick because of you.

"I don't care about getting sick. I've caught your colds all throughout high school." He reassures, still squeezing out your hair.

"You have to work tomorrow. I don't want you sick." You tell him.

"It's handled if I do get sick. Now let me keep taking care of you. Look at how much you already look better." He points to the mirror across your room.

You thought you look a mess. Wearing boxer shorts and a tee shirt that was extremely oversized. Your under eyes were insanely dark.

"I look sickly." You tell him.

"And now you are even joking around again." He stands up and reaches for the hairbrush.

"You're too kind." You tell him as he sits back behind you. He is careful when he starts brushing your hair.

"How is the medicine?" He asks.

"Good, I feel a lot better." You tell him. Your hair is brushed through, but he doesn't stop.

"Good, no more knots in your hair." You look at him in the mirror, he looks back at you.

"Thank you for taking care of me today." You tell him. You want to lean into him, but don't want to get germs all over him.

"I'd do it anytime, you just ask and I'll be here." He tells you, as if he is a mind reader, he pulls your back into him. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap all the way. You yawn as your head falls comfortably on his chest. "Tired still?"

"I think just exhausted from everything." You tell him.

"Your toes are cold, where are your socks?" He lifts you off of him, you hold back a sad sigh.

"The drawer on the right." You tell him. He pulls the drawer out and looks around. Since he is facing away from you, you don't see his blush spread across his cheeks. He felt weird looking in your underwear drawer. He clears his throat as he returns to you, kneeling and taking your ankle in his hands. He puts the thick socks over your cold feet before looking up at you. "Sorry." You mumble.

"What for?" Nanami questions.

"Don't make me say it." You shy away.

"I don't know why you are apologizing, I offered to get them for you." He sits down in front of you.

"I didn’t think about which drawer it was before I told you.” You say with embarrassment. Nanami wasn’t sure how to respond, his mind was preoccupied by the garments in the drawer, and not the socks.

“Let’s just forget about it, yeah?” He rests a hand on your knee, comforting the embarrassment.

You nod and he rubs a gentle circle against your knee. You feel relaxed and have more energy than you did this whole weekend. You suggest moving to the couch in the living room to watch a movie.

“I do apologize for not asking you earlier, but I picked up one of the books to pass the time earlier.” He tells you as you set the tissues on the coffee table. Your eyes dart to the book that was opened down the spine, pages lying flat against the table. “You like romance novels?”

“Oh god, this has got to be the most embarrassing day of my life. First you find me passed out on the floor, snot dripping down my face and sweating. Then I cry like a little kid, I nearly pass out again but this time naked, then you look in my underwear drawer, and now you just started reading my books.” You cover your face in more embarrassment. You couldn’t tell him that the book wasn’t just romance, it was basically word porn.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed about anything. I’ve seen plenty of that stuff in my life. I have also read plenty of books. Put your favorite movie on, I will order some food. You need to catch up on the last few days.” He sets aside your embarrassment.

You do as he instructed, putting on your favorite feel good movie while he orders takeout for the both of you.

The rest of the evening is relaxing, you were sad to see him leave but he did have work in the morning.

He makes you promise to keep taking care of yourself until you get better.

[death---dealer]

for the love of all that is HOLY part two to that caesar fic maybe a continuation where you left off. Reader cleaning his body? *Wiggles eyebrows suggestively*

I said I wasn't posting today well guess who Lied LOL. We love one stoic hot ape here and his name is CAESAR,, Reblogs and likes always appreciated, enjoy reading.

Title: Side By Side. Fandom: Planet of the Apes. Pairing: Caesar x Human! Reader. Rating: T. ( Teeny tiny bit of aggression. ) Words: 2.1K+ Summary: ** Part One: War Paint** Putting the paint on was the easy part of your job.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻

Your hands were shaking. You didn't have an excuse this time like before. You weren’t cold, even Caesar had to have noticed that you were in fact sweating, a small fire in front of you being more than enough to pound you into a lucid sense of heat. Tucking your long sleeves up on your biceps to keep them out of the way, you dipped a cloth into water gathered from the river nearby. Notice, he surely did. He didn't need to see, he could simply smell it. Almost every move you made in front of him caused a sweet fragrance to waft his way. It was so very familiar to Caesar, it almost felt like he’d drown in it. Nervous? He tilted his head minutely. Yes, Caesar had seen you nervous and he knew how it looked on your face. Reserved? Yes, Caesar repeated and watched as you wrangled the old cloth, enjoying the sound of the droplets falling back into the bigger pitcher of water.

Like rain against a roof, it reminded the Ape King of a meager memory and he found himself sliding his eyes shut. He could recall many times in San Fransisco… Many rainy nights where he sat in the home he proudly shared with Will, Caroline and Charles… Listening to the rain, looking out the window, wondering what it would feel like on his fur, what it would feel like cupped in his hand. Little did Caesar know in those moments of self-reflections, that many years later, they would be gone from him and all he was left with was the sensation now of water dripping from his fur onto the floor below, giving the impression that it was bridging the gap between himself and you. Taking advantage of his closed eyes, you made your move and swiped the cloth against the bridge of his brows and down the right side of his face. You were more comfortable working around his expressions if his eyes were not dragging you down into a room full of thoughts that were only about Caesar.

The white paint smeared against his wrinkled skin, giving a small twitch as you dragged the cloth across the space next to his muzzle. He seemed to have aged overnight from years upon years of unbridled stress and loss. Your heart churned uncomfortably at that, at how rugged he looked, at how he held himself as opposed to earlier. He seemed so tired now, so willing to accept and roll over. All you wanted to do was throw the cloth over your shoulder and embrace his face in both your hands. Take in each pleasure of feeling how it traced under your fingers, your bare fingers. Caesar tried to keep it light and positive when you had talked about loss before, but it was so apparent that it had a detrimental effect on him despite his ability to put on a mask for his Colony, for the greater good of the Apes. Where there was loss, he had explained in a rather rudimentary way, typical of Caesar when he knew what he wanted to express but lacked the dictionary knowledge of how to put it in a way that you would understand. With loss, there was much to be gained was how he put it. Said like a true leader, you dropped the conversation after that and it was never brought up again.

That’s how it worked with the Ape King. You questioned, he answered and you left it alone; Caesar was not a creature to come back to dwindling thoughts when he was so adversely confident in his abilities, practices and words. That’s what made him so enticing, magnetic by force and you fell right into the sphere of his gravity. Shaking that thought out of your head, you drew your bottom lip to urge yourself to focus on the task at hand and lightly placed the cloth against his cheek idly. You were looking at him now; the furrow of his brow, his mouth slightly agape as if in anticipation of your next movements, eyes shut, not squeezing but flutteringly that if he wanted to look right back at you, it wouldn’t take much effort on his part. A thin set of eyelashes trickled with action as you came upwards and swept the paint from under his eyes. Droplets fell onto his cheeks, giving the faux nature of tears. It was symbolic, in some sick and twisted way and your eyes trailed the drop down, down… It got lost in the fur of his chin.

Oblivious to your own nature now as you were so transfixed on the Chimp in front of you, your mouth had fallen open, bottom teeth now evident in Caesar’s eyes as he finally opened them in question of what you were doing, what was taking so long. Lake was fast to clean, you were slow, biding your time for an unknown reason, at least to Caesar. Green irises burned a hole in you, through your skull and it felt like he was able to read your thoughts. It felt like your skin was crawling, like he was inside of you and puppeteering as you unwaveringly looked right back at him.

Big mistake.

“Uh---” You hummed under your breath, the huff hitting his face due to the close proximity before you turned your body away from him, knees now pointing to an empty corner of Caesar's private sanctuary instead of directly at the King. A shot of what felt like electricity lingered in your entire self, radiating uncomfortable from your fingertips, your thighs, your head and oddly enough, your toes even felt a bit funny. “T-…” Clearing your throat as you dipped the cloth back in to get more dampened, you were screaming to keep your heart from jumping out of your chest. There was absolutely no way that he didn't know that, telling you often that he was able to get a good view of your internal self from his ability to smell, his ability to hear your heartbeat.

“The paint came off a little bit.” A mindless topic of conversation, and you weren’t sure if Caesar would comply. He wasn’t big into small talk and really only pleasured you with it when he felt it served a purpose.

He hummed in response, knowing you had to figure that words weren’t necessarily worth any other acknowledgement. It was such a deep sound coming from his chest, Caesar’s eyeline suddenly flushed with your chest as you stood. “It…” He nodded silently as you advised him just as quietly that you needed him to shift. With intentful action, Caesar’s jaw clenched as he let his head tilt backwards mildly, only accentuated when you had pressed an urging finger under his chin to aid. “Rained…” He bargained with you, “Thought it would.” That was said with what could only be described as smugness.

You paused in front of him as his words spilled, giving you the wanted attention that was leaking out of all of your pores. The way his voice came out in the position he found himself in was rougher than usual, vocal cords straining against his jugular. Pleadingly, you looked at said body part and felt a flush of something familiar now lingering in your tailbone. You could just reach up and grab it, though you knew Caesar would grab yours in return, probably ripping the vein right out of your neck. You began applying a bit more pressure to the red that trailed between his brows and down his nose the only part of his face paint that lingered. The white was easily gone, already faded deeply from being exposed to the weather. He was tentative in nature, staring at the ceiling before his eyes were flooded again, this time with your face as you moved above him to look, observing he assumed, where you needed to apply more pressure to clean the now crusting paint off his perpetually grouchy appearance.

Statically, he grasped your wrist when the realization came to light that with his face clean, all that was left was his body. He had enough with the paint placement on his chest hours ago,thankful to get that out of his mind for the hunting trip he went on with his closest council. That hard beating of his heart, that vile feeling in the very pit of his stomach at the idea of you just cleaning him… No no, Caesar’s eyes narrowed in thought. Grooming him made him uneasy with conflicted desires. Just mere seconds away from the cloth touching his chest, from letting you draw it along the lines you had placed on him, erasing them from his chest and following suit downwards… Down, down… Caesar's teeth clattered together in his mouth, the sound so loud in his ears. So close to the burdens, introspective thoughts and animalistic urges he had about this entire situation. He wouldn’t be able to control himself if he allowed you to continue; allowed your hands anywhere near him anymore. If he just… let you… You twitch your wrist in his grasp. Ultimately now, you were one bad flick of the hand away from Caesar absolutely crushing your radius and ulna. He wouldn’t; but the gravitas of the thought rocketed a primal fear in your mind.

You stared at the mere contact of his hand entirely encasing your wrist, usually not a point of contention. Caesar had grasped at you in the past when you were flurrying off the rails just to keep you momentarily grounded enough, never enough to make intimate contact but enough to draw your senses back in. Most often, it happened when you were talking about something in a passionate fashion. Your mouth parted in wonderment before trailing your gaze up his forearm, not doubting that if you chose to reach out and touch, it would ripple with taunt muscles. His bicep, the sheer size was enough to cause a lump to form in your throat. The width alone left enough to your imagination, the knowledge that he could very easily pick things up, heavier than his body weight, with just one arm. The glow of the fire in front of you illuminated his features further, giving play to shadows along the bridge of his nose, flirting and teasing at the line of fur that started right above his brows. He was undoubtedly handsome, you tried to come up with an excuse for your thoughts but nothing came to fruition.

There had to be a question lingering on his lips. They were pursed in such a position that it appeared he was going to say something. A hot flash hit the back of your throat as you wistfully admired him from such a juxtaposed position, knowing factually that you had to have looked so stupidly star-struck.

What was he thinking? You slid only an inch or two closer, body almost leaving the rock you were sitting on, knees swerving to give him your utmost attention. What was he…? Caesar stared right at you, gaze refusing to leave your own even if you chose to break the bond then and there. Whatever grasp you had on the cloth you were using to clean faltered and it fell flat onto the ground in front of you with a soft ‘sploosh’ sound. What was he thinking? Linearly, you looked into his eyes and found yourself wrapped in how they looked. Eclipsed irises coupled with dilated pupils, most likely due to the fire and dim lighting that encased your bodies, at least, that’s what you were telling your racing mind. Delicately, the flames flickered against your face… Too delicately and Caesar felt something prickly inside of his mind as he wanted to take that delicate nature and crush it between his hands, giving him pure dominance over the most subtle and entangling form of submission.

Gasping as his clutch on your ceased, your other hand rose instinctually and held your wrist tenderly. You were going to bruise there. He was almost aggressive in nature, giving the appearance of shaking you off of him like a bug. “You… Don’t… need to finish.”

You blinked, figuring out when he beckoned you after his arrival that he was only allowing you to clean him due to the human element of it. You knew he didn't care if it came off or how it came off; the opportunity for you to clean him was just another in the long list of Caesar accommodations he made for you. You wanted to ask why. Why you didn't need to finish, why he wouldn’t let you but all he muttered to you as his back was suddenly in your line of vision was, “Paint will… come off with rain.”

Opening your mouth to protest, you found yourself deflected as Caesar rose, all so powerful, his stance telling you that he was more than capable of taking care of himself here. His eyes, those eyes that had been so intently lingering in yours, were now hardened and so very distant. “You… should... go.”

[matchesarelit]

Imagine If You Will... (Silly, Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader)

REQUEST: I really enjoyed your fic from earlier this month so I'd like to ask for a Spencer Agnew x reader!! Mainly where the office is oblivious to his and the reader's newly established relationship and they start flirting more often, wearing each other's clothes/jewelry, going home together and people start realizing 1 by 1 until the news spreads that they're dating. (including their reactions lol) Thanks :))))

W.C: ~2.4k Warnings: none I think, Reader and Spencer are gd hopeless, the word gigachad, badly crafted memes?

Smosh Masterlist

Waking up on Spencer's couch with a controller in hand and your head draped back over his shoulder was becoming a hobby of yours and the almost immediate creak of your neck was a now familiar ache. Usually, the pair of you had the foresight to set an alarm, or twenty. Today however, you woke to catch the long hand solidly past the six and the other making its way towards nine. That left the pair of you with less than half an hour to get ready and get to work about ten minutes away.

Twisting hurriedly you pat Spencer's chest a few times, the controller long lost to the couch cushions in your haste, 'Hun, wake up, we need to go.'

Rubbing the back of a knuckle over his eye he slowly turned to face you, his voice soft yet rough from sleep and still slightly out of it,

'Huh? What time is it?'

'About twenty-five to nine' His hand hand shifted to rest against his chest, meeting and holding your own as a small smile fell over his features, clearly still a little too out of it to read the situation as it was. Your expression probably wasn't helping, the initial stress had disappeared the moment his lips pulled into that pretty expression, and you had never had the strength to not smile right back at him.

Admittedly it had taken five additional minutes for the pair of you to remember the issue at hand and spring from the sofa, at which point the pair of you had grabbed whatever you could, changed and scrambled to the car. Pulling into the office carpark, you thanked yourself for setting the top you'd brought over out on top of the dresser.

A self to self mental high five that was not at all warranted, a fact that you would only realized as you stepped into the bathroom at work when you went for a tea break later that morning.

Catching sight of yourself, your cheeks immediately grew hot; across your chest, in a vintage font, was the phrase, 'She Bul on my ba until I saur' alongside a gigachad version of the Pokemon underneath. You'd bought the shirt for Spencer a few weeks prior upon stumbling across it on Instagram and thinking it was perfect for the nerdy man that he was.

Finishing up in the bathroom, you beelined for the Games area, scurrying (in the most nondescript way possible, of course) over to Spencer's desk, you immediately began tapping his shoulder until he tugged his headphones from his ears.

'Is everything alright?' Jaw hanging motionless you gestured wildly to the top, your wild eyes begging him to catch on to your not so subtle concern.

'Ha! nice shirt-o-OH WAIT' Eyes blowing wide and brows drawing together you remained silent lost on how to proceed. Although you had yet to discuss keeping your relationship a secret, you hadn't discussed announcing it either, and it had caught the pair of you quite off guard.

'I-I've only worn it once on stream? if that helps? I doubt anyone will realize' at his words you nodded, giving a cursory glance about, you were glad to note that the other two people in the space had headphones on, presumably drowning out the world around them.

It wasn't that you wanted to hide your relationship, and the shirt certainly wasn't the worst way to launch your coupling, that being said it wasn't the best either. I mean c'mon at least something classy like a gigachad Mr. Mime right? A Bulbasaur was just a little silly.

Meeting his eyes with a small grin tugging at your cheeks, you put your hand over his and squeezed lightly, before stepping away, brushing your hands down over the fabric and turning to return to your own desk.

There was only one conclusion to draw and it was one that the pair of you agreed upon that night as he dropped you off at your apartment; there really wasn't any point in putting much effort into hiding your relationship, after all you already knew you were horrible at it.

That much had been revealed weeks into seeing each other, when a stray brightly patterned hair clip wound up tangled in Spencer's hair, the matching one sitting neatly by your temple, a fact you doubted Kiana would ever let the pair of you forget. Especially as that same hair clip had remained on his desk since she had twisted it free it months prior, and she still often feigned looking for the matching one in your hair.

Pulling into the carpark outside of Spencer's apartment, you barely held back your laughter as you leant over and pushed open the car door for him from inside. Watching as he cautiously all but tip-toed closer, arms piled high with a clutter of hard drives and cables in a tangled mess, you raised an eyebrow at the chaos of it all.

Settling himself down with a relieved sigh, he let the balled up hardware sit on his lap resting a hand on top so to keep it in place.

Leaning over once again you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before twisting to grab a bag from the back seat. 'Did you want a bag for that Tangela'd mess?' Unable to dissolve the much-too-happy-with-yourself look on your face you watched in glee as he took in the pun.

'oh god' His exasperated mutter was plainly for show as he shook his smiling head in disbelief, before thanking you as he took the canvas from your hands and began haphazardly shoving the mass inside.

Much too caught up in discussing the date planned for later that week all throughout the drive and as you walked into work, both of you failed to notice the print on the side of the bag that was soon emptied out and folded on his desk awaiting that evening when he'd give it back.

Marcus, however, in light of the copier breaking down, had been asked to trek to the local Staples and make some copies and soon spotted the folded tote on his way to the door.

'Hey Spencer, would I be able to borrow that bag for a copy run?' Peering around his monitor, Spencer looked from Marcus to the bag and back again before finding his voice, 'Oh um, this is-'

Stepping into the room and catching on quite fast you spoke up, unintentionally, and yet mercifully, cutting Spencer off, 'That one's mine, of course you can borrow it!'

Standing just outside of the kitchen with your umpteenth mug of whatever sachet you had picked up, possibly a soup, you watched Spencer chuck the bag over and watched as the other man caught it and left the building with it tucked under his arm.

Looking all around her desk, you and Erin were searching for her bag, a tote not unlike your own, that had been lost in the chaos of the day, but with her phone on the verge of dying the pair of you had sprung into action. Venturing further and further from her desk as time went on, you found yourself by the assortment of boxes in the corner while Erin searched near the door. Just as she opened her mouth to call the search a failure, Marcus stepped back into the office, bag slung over his shoulder.

'Hey is there any chance that bag is my one?' She was clearly hopeful but that was a fleeting moment as she cut off his response,

'No its uh-'

'oh don't worry. This is definitely yours, isn't it?' The question was yelled across the space at you, a point you only noticed when you looked back at the cacophony to find her eyes already looking in your direction. Walking over you were lost as to how a nondescript tote-

Nevermind.

Illuminated momentarily by Erin's camera flash, across the side of the bag was a graphic, edited by you, for you. Across a captioned screenshot of parks and rec, you'd put the words, in a horrendous green, 'This is my boyfriend, and my boyfriend's Mtn Dew KickStart' alongside a included picture of the can. It was messy, and hyper-specific and yet it had given you such a good chuckle, you'd elected to pay for it to be printed. A fact you'd completely forgotten when blindly grabbing a bag that morning.

'I-' Your attempts at any explanation, no matter how unnecessary, fell short as you struggled for words. Marcus was in the same boat, now holding the bag up in front of him, eyebrows furrowed and mouth opening and closing repeatedly as he studied the print. Erin however, seemed to have no such problem, tapping a few buttons, locking her phone and spinning on her heel presumably to keep looking for her own bag.

Silly as ever, you thought those few buttons were unrelated, until Spencer make a squawk-like noise from the passenger seat of your car on the drive home. When you pulled over, he accompanied the sound with showing you a story from the main Smosh account, it was of the bag with the text 'Found in the wild. Your soulmate @/spenser?'

Grabbing the balled up bag in the cup holder you handed it to him, at which point you returned to the open road, not missing the little, 'So true' that came from the man next to you.

You'd just switched on the kettle when Tommy stepped into the office kitchen, grabbing a mug of his own and perching beside you against the island.

'Hey so my car is in the shop, would I be able to grab a lift home tonight?'

You and Tommy had spoken many times in the past regarding your shared suburb, so it wasn't at all a surprise when he asked, and yet you were still stuttering to answer.

'oh uh-'

''its no problem if you can't-'

'Oh no I- We can, I carpooled with Spencer, but I'm sure he wont mind...'

'Are you sure?'

'Of course! I'll just let him know, don't even stress'

Living in the same neighborhood, you and Tommy had given each other lifts and carpooled in the past, but that was before you started spending so much free time with Spencer, something that started almost a full year before you'd actually gotten together. This Included, almost without discussion, your carpooling, despite living in two different areas in opposite directions from the office.

That last aspect, the part that made the whole carpooling situation between the pair of you impractical, was the part that completely slipped both yours and, when you confirmed the change of plans with him, Spencer's minds.

It wasn't until a few minutes after you had slipped inside Spencer's car, Tommy had nestled himself into the backseat, and Spencer had started off in the direction of your area, that any of you had shared a word. The regular flirting that flowed freely over the car ride home, after being bottled up at work, was absent and left the space eerily silent. Until Tommy's head cocked to the side and he addressed Spencer.

'I had no idea you were in our area Spencer, when did you move?'

Spencer was silent for perhaps a beat too long, 'oh I uh-'

'Cause weren't you up north?'

'I... uh... still am' His voice was almost silent towards the end, achieving his goal of leaving Tommy momentarily clueless.

'What?'

Patting a hand on Spencer's shoulder you wordlessly insisted he go on,

'I still do, live up north that is.'

'Then wh- OHHH' In the quiet car his realization was like a siren, thankfully however, it fell away quickly, being immediately replaced with an amused chuckle. His laughter meant Tommy struggled to get out his playful criticism,

''S-so you d-drive like the compl-ete wr-wrong direction t-to t-t-o drop off... oh my god that's s-so silly and so cute b-but so dumb.'

'Not always... sometimes Spencer'll stay at mine or I'll-.' Your defense wasn't nearly as good as you'd thought it was in the moment and was cut off with more laughter and a sarcastic yet good natured, 'y-yeah that makes it make sense,' from the man behind you and a smile from the man by your side.

It might be silly but at this point that was a founding pillar of your relationship, and one you'd long since stopped denying, but that didn't stop you from trying, and failing, to defend yourselves on occasion.

Pulling a headband from your desk drawer, you pushed your hair out of your face and out of the way. It was a common enough occurrence, as was accidentally taking them home and losing them to the abyss, that you had quite a large number squirreled away. In the light of previous occurrences you had moved away from hair clips, cough Kiana cough, to their much less find-their-way-into-your-boyfriends-hair friends, the headband.

That being said, less than an hour later, standing, once again, by the kettle you watched as Spencer brushed hair from his eyes and tucked it behind his ears only for it to fall back in place almost immediately. The struggle was one you knew well, but the pout that his lips pulled into as it happened for the twenty-something-th time, was not something you could abide.

So settling down your mug of freshly made who-knows-what at your desk, you retrieved a headband, one not at all dissimilar to the one currently holding your own locks in place. Walking over to Spencer you tapped the table to get his attention, doubting his ability to see you through the hair he had seemingly relented to.

'Hey...'

'Hey... Come here.' Moving to stand by his side, you spun his chair from under his desk around to face you, running your hands through his hair, pushing it up. Softly pushing his head to hang back, you placed the headband across his forehead, before moving it up to secure his hair in place underneath it. Letting your fingers linger, you considered the moment. It wasn't Mr. Mime classy, but it was definitely a little bit silly and that seemed perfect.

Trailing a hand up past the band and over the back of his head, you rested it on the back of his chair, a movement he met with his cheek nestling against your forearm. Meeting his eyes, you held his gaze as his head tilted down and then back up. A single nod was all you needed as you leant down and pressed your lips to his.

It was nowhere near the first time, but it was the first time that it was accompanied by a call from down the hall, where Ian stood pumping his fist in the air.

'CALLED IT!'

[acerathia]

Side-Character changes the genre! | S. Todoroki

Summary:

Waking up in a novel you have once read, you realize something of utmost importance: your favorite character is destined to die as a tragedy! So, you decide to help him avoid this bleak fate with your knowledge of future events, nothing more, nothing less, right?

Wordcount: 14.6k

Read on AO3

Pairing:

Crown Prince!Todoroki Shoto / Jester!Reader

Tags/CW:

reader is a jester, royal au, but also, isekai, this is unserious, only small amounts of angst, failed assassination plot, pinning and getting pinned down, idiot x competent (both of them tbh)

Note:

I finished it earlier than i thought, this fic is unserious, and too long for me to edit with this headache, enjoy lol (shoutout to my derelict favorite o7)

The sky above you seems endless, as the clouds beckon you to just come closer. And oh, how much you want to, stretching your arm towards them in quiet desperation, straining against whatever force is pulling you down. The tips of your fingers barely brush the underside of the sky, too far away to ever reach again, when everything exploded in shards of pain and darkness.

*-*

A gasp shudders out of your body as you jolt upright, the blanket loosely thrown over your legs, barely covering you. It is almost like your restless body has refused the warmth of the slightly coarse covering. Taking a couple of breaths, your hand clutching your chest as if to support this tiny endeavor of gathering air. After you have exhaled a couple of times, the panic has finally subsided, leaving you with phantom aches and a dizzy mind. You don’t remember going to bed at all, the last moment seared into your mind is the motion of falling endlessly.

A sudden sharp pang drives through your skull as you try to remember more, making you gasp once again. Maybe this isn’t the ideal time to try and dive into the last memories. Rather, you begin looking around, trying to discern if this place is in any way recognizable to you. Because it for sure is not a hospital room. It seems like you have woken up in a tiny hut, one space containing the bed you’re currently residing in, a table with only one chair and a kitchen space. The bright windows show you the depths of the forest, leaves brushing against the pane of glass. There is nothing else, the place almost looking neglected, empty, unlived in. Who might have brought you to this place? You don’t remember any of your acquaintances mentioning anything about a cabin in the woods.

You brush the blanket fully away, sliding off the small bed. Your bare feet meet the ground, and you expect yourself to flinch at the cold touch, yet, your body seems accustomed to the slight chill against your skin. You furrow your eyebrows slightly at this, but you decide to ignore whatever your body is doing right now, especially as you in fact do not mind having a little more resistance to the cold than usual.

With careful steps, you begin to walk around the confined space, looking for any possible clue about your current whereabouts. But you find nothing but untouched dust, and a mirror. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you walk up to the mirror until you can see your reflection. And you see yourself as you’re used to. Only in different clothing, ones almost vintage, something one would wear at a renfaire, not at home. Brushing against the texture of the material, you decide that you quite like it, despite its rough style. Only you do wonder how you came to wear this piece in the first place.

Continuing to explore the nooks and crannies of the tiny space, you stumble across a newspaper. One folded neatly in a corner, almost like the person who put it there knew that you might find it. Your eyes immediately jump to the top corners, trying to look for a date. But the moment you find one, it doesn’t make a lot of sense to you. The numbers feel like they have been put there in a whole new context, one fundamentally different from the one you’re so used to. And rather than helping you decipher your current situation, it only made you a little bit more confused.

Yet, you do not have it in you to give up due to some jumbled numbers without meaning. So, you begin to leave through the newspaper. One page after the other, letting the paper slide against your skin. And you’re not even worried about papercuts, as the material seems to be soft around the edges, something of good quality, yet not high enough to warrant sharp edges.

Your eyes glance over the stories, never truly picking something up, the way the words are formed, structured feels familiar yet too foreign to truly properly digest. The only thing that catches your eye are two words: ‘Todoroki Shouto’

“What the fuck?”, you mumble to yourself, dipping your head closer to the paper to read the printed text containing that particular name. It takes you longer than you would have liked to finish reading it, but it still left you reeling.

Letting the newspaper sink, you stare out of the window, your thoughts running around into a chaos of your own making. There is no way that this is true, is it? That’s just an elaborate prank, it has to be. You could not explain it otherwise why apparently your favorite character of your favorite novel is real. Or rather, how you landed into their world.

A giggle escapes you. Running a hand through your hair you feel the need to rip at those strands, trying to feel if anything is real at all. There is no way that Todoroki Shouto is actually going to celebrate his birthday party in the next few days. Because even if everything is real, and the picture in the newspaper seems to tell you that it is, you could not have chosen a worse time to wake up to. Because as much as he’s your favorite character, Shouto is destined to die at the hands of his own brother, and soon. And with the usurpation of the throne by the so-called Dabi, the whole kingdom is going to drown in flames.

That means, not only is your beloved Shouto going to die, but you also are going to follow suit very soon. And you do not want to die before you even understand what has happened in the first place.

Slowly falling to your knees and clutching the newspaper to your chest, you curse the world. Why couldn’t you have reincarnated into a romfan? Or anything else with barely any conflict, why did it have to be a novel filled with intrigue and wars.

As much as you’ve always wanted to meet Shouto, you didn’t mean to follow him into the afterlife. This thought brings a sudden realization with it. Wait. If you’re in the same world as your beloved favorite character, not only can you meet him, but also, possibly save him from his future. You have poured endless hours into changing the canon in your head during your daydreams, if only to make him survive everything and have a happy ending. So why shouldn’t you dare implement those ideas into this world of a novel. And because this is the novel, everything you do is technically canon.

Another giggle, only to turn into slightly mischievous laughter. With this plot of yours, not only will you be able to save Shouto, but also yourself. Suddenly, all these hours reading canon-divergent fics are worth it. Now, what you need to do is actually trying to discern what parts of your memory are canon, and what are simply the illusions brought forth by senseless hope.

Standing up, you use the newspaper to dust yourself off, before you begin looking for a pen and any form of paper. For this, you had to dig deep in a couple of cabinets, their contents often nothing but dust. But you eventually found exactly what you are looking for. Taking your newly discovered writing utensils, you sit down at the only table in this place. And you begin to write everything you remember. During this undertaking, you had to strike through several points, as with deeper thought, they turned out to be parts of some of the fics you have read. And you can’t have that, as your plan has to depend on the actions of the canon, rather than the ones of the wishful thinking of yours.

The important parts of Shouto’s plot are easily recognizable. His mother has been residing at seaside to recuperate from the sudden illness King Enji has bestowed upon her, while his eldest brother, Touya, who once thought to be the rightful heir to the throne, that is until Shouto came and their father changed his mind for no apparent reason. Of course, he couldn’t simply give Shouto the title of crown prince, rather, Touya had disappeared suddenly during a border skirmish. As this was the perfect opportunity, they immediately declared him dead, now truly putting the younger Shouto on the pedestal of the crown prince. This new position of his meant that every assassination attempt has switched targets, attacking him at every corner. And the ones about to come will be the most vicious of his life, even leading to his eventual death.

You can’t have that of course. Exactly those assassination attempts are the ones you have to sabotage to ensure that he stays on top of everything when the final showdown begins. Only, during writing those points, you remembered that not only is Shouto incredibly beautiful and talented, deserving of unending happiness, but also that he is the crown prince. Which is honestly awesome, he manages to do all his training and education with such ease, nobody else deserves that title. The problem lies with you, of course. Because how are you supposed to protect Shouto from his demise, if you can’t even get into the palace? And you highly doubt that they would simply let you in, if you walked over to the gates and told the guards: ‘Uh, hello, his Highness, the crown prince Shouto is about to be assassinated, and I’m the only one who can protect him.’ That would be absurd, and land you into jail yourself as a prime suspect. No, you had to handle it in another way.

Your head meets the wood of the table with a hollow thud. There is no way to do that, it’s hopeless. You cannot even get into the palace, there is no way to manage that, how are you supposed to save your beautiful Shouto?

Worst of all, you begin to feel dizzy. As your mind is already spiraling about the future of your favorite character, you immediately assume that you’re dying, as not only does your head hurt but your stomach is also cramping. Until you hear a familiar grumble, and every single one of your thoughts come to a halt. And if your head weren’t on the table already, you would have considered hitting yourself again.

“Ah. I’m hungry…”

Getting back onto your feet, you begin to look through every cabinet and cupboard, hoping to have overlooked something during your search for your writing utensils. But exactly as you feared, nothing has appeared during the couple of minutes you have looked away. Leading to one shocking conclusion: there is no food in this entire place. You almost went to your knees once again, but you decided to be stronger than this. You will not allow yourself to starve to death, especially with such an important mission. Even if you have no idea how to muster any kind of food, when all you own are the clothes on your back and a dusty place.

With trembling fingers you open the last cupboard, a silent plea to the author to give you one chance to survive. But even your last hope is crushed when you discover it empty of any possible sustenance. The only thing inside the cupboard seems to be a small leather pouch, too small to contain enough food, if food at all. Still, you can’t ignore this random bag, and because your curiosity is stronger than any despair you might have felt, you grabbed the pouch and peeked into it. And the moment your eyes recognize the insides, you almost let it fall in shock. But your self-sufficiency stops you from doing so, eliminating any risk of losing this precious content.

Because the bag is filled with enough cold coins to almost last you a lifetime if you knew how to use it well. And well, as you plan on surviving as long as possible, you cannot risk even losing one single piece to the harsh environment. So, you only grabbed one single coin with the tips of your fingers before closing the pouch once again to safely stash it away. This one coin should be enough to feed you and for you to get some seeds to plant to grow your own garden, giving you the chance to not only be self-sufficient, but also the ability to sell your plants and get more money.

A grin spreads over your face at the thought of gathering more money for your future life. What these gold coins could do for you. You’d never have to worry about starving, and because you have this place, you will always have a home. With these gold coins you’re settled for life, and if you manage to get a bit more out of them, you could even get yourself some tiny luxuries.

Grabbing the gold coin firmly in your fist, which you shove into a pocket for extra protection, you make your way to the door, steadfast in your decision to get yourself some food and some seeds. In front of the door you find a pair of sturdy shoes, and you’re glad that there is no reason for you to venture outside with your bare feet alone. Without ever letting the gold coin go, you shove your feet one by one into their respective shoes and barely manage to tighten the cords to fit you properly. You’d hate to fall and stumble because you neglected to secure your feet properly. Every misstep could mean the loss of this precious coin.

After making sure that the coin is still deep in your grip, you finally venture outside the hut. Only to see nothing but the vastness of the forest beyond the little fenced in space. And for a moment you can’t help but hesitate in front of the small gate, as your mind tells you to not step any further, in fear of what might be lurking just beyond your door. Worst of all, you can’t even convince yourself to pull through because it seems like you have no memories about this place, about the way to the next village. There is no way for you to do this on your own, you have to turn back and find another way…

Your cheek burns with the aftereffect of your slight slapping. But the slight pain jolts you out of your slight panic. You will go through this forest now, you will get yourself some food and not starve to death, and you will eventually find a way to save your beloved Shouto. You will not allow a puny forest to get the best of you.

With this decision burning inside of you, you finally take the first step out of the gate. And the first thing you notice is a small way in front of you, paved by the time and the steps of the people. This little path is currently your best bet, so with a shrug, you begin to diligently follow it. Despite its rather small size, the path isn’t as bumpy or rough as one might have expected it to be, for which you are glad, as you’d rather avoid twisting your ankle because your mind is slightly distracted from the way in front of you.

It barely takes you any time to emerge from the forest unscathed, not even tired out in the slightest. You begin to feel a little bit stupid at your unnecessary panic earlier, considering how easy it actually was to arrive at this village.

For a moment you stay still at the edge of the woods, simply gazing at what’s front of you as the slight breeze brushes through your clothes. The sky seems to stretch endlessly in front of you, open and a brilliant blue, with only the palace poking its tip towards it, as if trying to grasp some part of the infinite. This immense building is but a shard compared to the size of the sky, of the land, and yet it is the biggest there is. And it is your future destination to deflect the worst possible future.

Seeing the palace in the distance only serves to solidify your motivation, your goals and desires. So, you take your first step towards the palace, towards the village, and you are filled with determination to do everything in your power to change the outcome, for Shouto, for yourself, and for everyone else.

Once you arrive at the village, you take your time to slowly discover this place. You wander along the streets, you peek into the windows of tiny shops, and you even enter several to get yourself a basket to fill with fresh food and the seeds you plan to plant in the near future. It feels a little stupid to have forgotten such a necessity like a basket, but you don’t have the time to feel embarrassed as you simply get what you desire and walk around with an unbridled curiosity.

After some time, you stop in front of a fountain, watching the water bubble and fizz with each second, and you decide to take a break right at the edge of it. You sit down and stretch your legs while watching the low buzz of people walking and talking. Your eyes never stand still, always wandering in every direction, slow and comfortable, with no real focus. That is until you catch sight of an announcement board filled with papers tacked to it. And for some reason you feel the urge to read through every single one of them, because no matter how much you try to avert your gaze, your eyes always wander back to it.

With a sigh you grab your basket and make your way towards the board, weaving between the masses, never in a hurry, but with a set destination in mind. Finally coming to a halt in front of the stacks of papers, you begin to read through them by simply glancing at the headline. Until one contains one of your self-input keywords ‘palace’. You immediately step closer and read the posting with much more focus.

‘Now hiring! We’re looking for a jester to join the troupe for the duration of the festivities for crown prince Shouto Todoroki’s birthday. This includes the ball and [… ] No prior experience needed.’

You immediately snatch the paper and clutch it in your hand. This is it, this is your chance to get into the palace and possibly save Shouto from the first assassination attempt. Maybe the author is actually gracing you with immense luck to survive this. Maybe they absolutely want Shouto to survive no matter what. Of course you’re supposed to take this chance, even if your humor may not be up to their standards, because you’re meant to survive. Nodding to yourself at this explanation of yours, you make your way to the address written onto the paper.

It doesn’t take long for you to arrive at the rather open space with a couple of people warming up and doing rather light tricks. Still, you couldn’t help but watch as these people play with fire as if it’s purely silk, and with silk like it’s water flowing out of their hands. And no matter how much work all these tricks seemed to be, they all appear to have a tremendous amount of joy, laughter erupting with every clumsy mistake, leading to nothing but a loud noise or a knot between their fingers.

After carefully wandering between these people, you try finding someone who does not look to be in the middle of a trick or a warm-up. And eventually you almost bump into two people simply having a conversation.

“Ah, excuse me? I’m here because I’ve seen you’re hi–”

“You’re hired! We’re so glad to have you on board, but you must know that you will carry the responsibility if the kind is angered due to any of your jokes. Now, let’s see, you can go grab the costume over there,” he points to a colorful cart, not even letting you have a word. “And then we’ll meet again here the morning of the ball to venture together to the palace, alright? Alright, great. See ya!”

He slightly shoves you towards the wagon, and you stumble slightly, as the barrage of information overwhelms you the tiniest bit, well a bit more than that. Still, you follow his directions and walk to the wagon, where you knock against the door, trying to get whatever you’re supposed to and maybe some more information.

A head pokes out of the opening door, and the moment you both meet eyes, the younger boy breaks out in a grin. The door immediately swings open and he jumps out, drawing a circle around you before he finally stops in front of you, hand outstretched.

“Well, nice to meet you, I’m Hide, the one responsible for giving all these people fitting clothes. I assume you’re our new jester?”, he grabs your hand and shakes it, as you introduce yourself with a name.

“Great, let’s see, we should have something that fits you just right,” and as fast as he appeared, he dips back into the wagon, and you hold yourself back from peeking in while something crashes inside.

It doesn’t take long for him to emerge once again, this time with a slight wobble in his steps. Once again, he just acts before explaining anything, pushing a bundle of fabric into your chest, and you hurry to hold it before it slips from your grasp.

“That’s your costume. You know, shirt, pants and even a mask. We don’t want to risk you getting arrested once out of your costume. The whole being a jester at court thing is dangerous enough as it is.”

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘dangerous’?”, you interrupt him, because that’s the second time someone mentions something like that, and considering that you only talked to two people this whole time, it is quite a lot.

He shrugs. “Well, king Enji is not famous for being a funny guy after all. Many are scared to perform because they think he might just get rid of them. But the court has certain rules, and a jester at court has technically some immunity. Even if not, well, absolute or anything. So, you kind of have to protect yourself, we give you the mask, you try to keep trouble minimal. We survive, yippie!”

You blink at his explanation and slowly nod. It does make sense, as kind Enji is feared due to his hot temperament and his mercilessness, but well you’d rather not risk your life to burn under his scrutiny. A sigh escapes you, well, what one does for love, or something. You really have no other choice but to pull through, because there is no way you would get into the ball otherwise.

So, you accept these clothes and consequently the role as the jester for this troupe, even if temporary. Stowing the bundle into your basket, you decide it’s time to go home. You bid Hide farewell and you make your way back, a sudden exhaustion creeping up your back.

Maybe you have bitten much more than you could chew. How could someone like you even think of changing the outcome of the plot. Even with your money, do you even possess a chance to counteract the numerous assassination attempts? Or are they going to catch you and blame you for everything in the end, making every single step of yours for naught? Oh, how much you desire your favorite character to survive and to live out his life in peace and bliss, but are you the right person to help him do so?

Maybe it’s just enough if you act as a stepping stone to his way to happiness. Maybe you should be happy with that, never wanting more than to see him truly smile after every adversity is overcome.

Maybe you will pull it off, even if barely, You will do anything for that smile, truly. A breath, the thud of the basket against the wooden ground, the rough wool touching your face, and you allow the darkness to overcome you.

*-*

As agreed, you meet the troupe at the same place at a later date. You’re in your costume already, the material softer against your skin as your usual clothing is. The colors are bright and inviting, perfect for the role of a jester, as you would have to pull everyone’s attention towards you. Normally you would hate to receive so much attention, all those eyes scrutinizing your every move, but the weight of the mask against your nose and brows help with ignoring those. Nobody would be able to recognize you outside of your attire, the cap ’n bells covering the rest of your head as the liliripes hang around your face. The costume truly is serving its purpose: to hide your identity.

Yet, during the walk towards the palace, you’re glad to be able to keep your own sturdy shoes. In case something happens, you still would have the right footwear to react, instead of the usual jester shoes with their curling toes.

Finally entering the hall, bypassing the guards by taking the servant’s entrance, you almost stop in your tracks as you marvel over the place. Red and white flowers flow down the walls, their scent tickling the tip of your nose. The huge tables framing the hall are filled with art made of food, and ice sculptures, ones that do not seem to melt no matter the temperature. As you continue to follow the troupe, your eyes wander to the ceiling, only to be awed by the paintings depicting some sort of story you’re unable to decipher, their colors still vibrant underneath the light of the huge chandelier, one seemingly made of pure stars.

You barely notice when the group stops to prepare their acts in their designated area. But once you do, you keep to yourself, standing at the edge and simply watching these people. As your role does not need any preparation or any special space, your thoughts wander while still looking around the hall. And you nod slightly. That’s how the rich live. Very extravagant. You wouldn’t mind experiencing life like them, but you’re also content with simply having a secure future. Well, that’s as long as you manage to successfully help Shouto survive.

Slowly, the hall begins to fill and the music sways through the air, inviting everyone to dance, or to simply relax. As for you, you begin walking around, saying a joke there, doing a tiny prank here. Just whatever is in your capacity without making a big deal out of your presence. Especially due to your lack of experience, you’d hate to commit an irredeemable slip up. So, you focus on simply changing up the mood wherever it’s needed. All while you are waiting for your favorite character to finally make his appearance.

There have been a couple other characters you recognize, if only by the way they mutter or bark their words. Yet, you don’t care for them in particular. Because you know that none of them can be a match to Shouto, be it in appearance or character. Your favorite character truly has the noblest soul out of all the existing characters, and you shall make sure that he can bloom to show his true potential, unlike the outcome of the novel.

You shake your head in disapproval at the simple thought of the novel which brought ruination onto Shouto. Cursing the author in your head, you almost miss the entrance of the crown prince.

“Announcing His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince Shouto Todoroki,” the lord steward diligently does his job as he announces his arrival to the entire hall.

Immediately the whole mass of people turns to face the entrance, almost afraid to miss the chance to get a glimpse. And you’re no different. You even feel the urge to jump to get an even better look. But the thought is unnecessary, as movement sweeps through the people. bowing and curtsying, freeing the view towards him.

His appearance seems to strike you down. Even from afar you’re able to see the smooth, unblemished skin, the straight nose, plush lips and soft cheeks which slowly turn into a sharp jawline. His eyes look like the ocean at different times of the day, his lashes fluttering like a halo. His hair looks like a breeze is caressing him. He’s positively glowing, and you’re unable to move, until someone grabs you, pulling you down.

“Do you want to be beheaded?” the person, Hide, whisper-shouts at you and you realize that for a short moment you were the only one who didn’t greet him properly, practically risking your neck for a glimpse of him.

But his face is imprinted behind your eyelids and you doubt you could ever forget such a sight.

“Worth it,” you mumble, wincing when Hide strengthens his grip around your arm. But all you could do is stay silent with your lips slightly jutting forward. Because even if you don’t regret it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t a foolish thing to do. You only wish you had enough time to see the rest of him too. Maybe that’s the thing you’re actually regretting.

After Shouto has finished his walk through the hall, arriving in front of the dais to greet his father. And as expected, his greeting is short, curt, almost rude. But it’s known that despite him being the crown prince, he does not particularly like his father. Understandably so, if someone asked you for your opinion. King Enji is strong and is able to protect the kingdom with his own power, yet his destructive tendencies have affected a lot of the common folk, especially the ones living on the border of the country.

Of course, as you had read every tidbit about Shouto, you’re well aware how this piece of— this king had treated Shouto and his siblings. Such things aren’t common knowledge though, and you would not dare to utter such facts directly. Well, not as long as your life could be on the line. But even if you wouldn’t start some rumors about him, everyone will eventually know the truth once the allegedly deceased first prince returns.

But you hope to at least avoid it, because the appearance of the so-called ‘Dabi’ is in fact a massive death flag for your favorite character, and you’d rather have king Enji keep his reputation than risk Shouto getting killed.

You can’t help but giggle at the way Shouto immediately turns away to get away from his father. He takes a couple long strides towards the table, and you purse your lips when you notice how long his legs are, and how his thighs look in this particular pair of pants.

You keep your eye on him, not because you’re admiring his profile and how sophisticated he looks, no way, but because you still remember a certain plot point being carried out during this specific ball. But even if you do know that he is going to get poisoned, the novel never specified which glass or beverage had caused that incident. And you hardly could just go up to him every time he picks up the glass and takes a sip before he does, that would be ridiculous. How could you even think of indirectly kissing him, that’s bordering on being blasphemous.

So, all you could do is just keep looking at him and trying to discern if something is wrong with whatever is in his hand. That’s how you watch how he nods at something his conversation partner says, as he slowly raises the glass filled with deep red liquid. And for some reason you feel some sense of deja vu, a shiver buzzing down your spine, and you speed up your steps towards him, sincerely hoping that you might reach him just in time.

You realize too late that you wouldn’t be able to stop perfectly in front of him, so you end up bumping into him. But you take this chance to slap the glass out of his hand, continuing to stumble and to flail your arms, before acting like you found your balance again. You immediately put a hand in front of your eyes when you turn back in his direction, and you utter the first thing that comes to mind.

“Excuse me, your Highness, your beauty has simply blinded me,” you bow before you make your departure as swift as possible, hiding between the groups of people.

You’re tempted to curl into a ball and hide behind one of those heavily decorated pillars, but you reckon that would be too obvious and you would only stand out more than you already do. So, you simply continue to weave between all these people and do your job, this time without bumping into anyone.

Luckily, after some time, you realize that there are no guards looking to arrest and kill you and you start to relax. And as soon as the party begins to slow down, you prepare your leave too, wondering how you might infiltrate the palace once again to offer your help hidden in the shadows. Even if theoretically he does not need any help, because he did not get poisoned, which leads to him being more resistant to the subsequent assassination attempts. But the thing that worries you the most is, that this is a novel, who knows how it might retaliate if only to get to the destined end. So, you’d rather not risk stopping your helpful attempts at distracting the assailants.

Of course, you’re not implying that Shouto needs your help, he’s an amazing character, strong and noble, he definitely can handle himself. But you reckon that your in-depth knowledge of the novel might just give him a better advantage against his villainous brother. Even if you understand Dabi’s motivations, you cannot forgive him for making your favorite character suffer like this, that’s the way of a fan.

Slowly, you make your way towards the exit, the troupe probably assembling outside where there’s more free space to do so. Your attention is too focused on the problems of the future, your eyes trying to see if there’s a hidden servant's passage you could use sometime, you don’t notice the person in front of you until you bump into them.

You stumble slightly, barely catching yourself, and you prepare to either apologize or to say something so out of pocket, the other forgets about what just happened. Yet, the moment you look up, you freeze, as you encounter the beautiful face of Shouto. His beauty is enough to make a poet weep and lament, and sadly you’re no poet, so all you could do is stare. His features are much more insane up close, and even face to face, all you can see is him sparkling. His eyes lock with yours, and you feel like you’re getting swept up in an ice storm, and boy, you would have never been more glad to freeze to death if that’s the last thing you see.

Up close, you notice how broad his shoulders are, how his clothes show his lean, yet well-adorned silhouette, and you have to pull yourself together to not make your stare more noticeable. You immediately prepare to run away, but before you could even think of a way to escape, and you were almost tempted to jump out of the window, you feel his fingers carefully grab your wrist.

There’s no skin contact, as he’s been wearing gloves, but the warmth is the same nonetheless and you feel your veins boil and melt. His grip isn’t bruising, but also not something one can escape so easily. And even if you could, you doubt you would forcefully break the contact. (And you can’t help but be amazed at how a character could be so warm.) So, you follow him wordlessly to wherever he’s dragging you to.

Once you arrive at a secluded spot, he lets you go, and while you mourn the loss of the touch, you don’t let it show on your face. You simply face him and wait for him to say what he wants to say. And you sincerely hope he’s not going to give you the death sentence.

“I want you to stay at the court as my court jester,” he finally says, his eyes roaming over the mask on your face.

You cock your head in confusion, his sudden request something you surely did not foresee. But it is the ideal opportunity for you, as with an official occupation at the palace, you would have access to almost every part of it. Yet–

“Why?”

He slightly shrugs. “My father the king hated you and was annoyed by your presence, that’s reason enough to keep you by my side.” After Shouto explains his reasoning, which makes so much sense with his characterization, you can’t help but shudder at the thought of being at the risk of the king’s wrath. And he seems to notice it, so he adds: “You do not have to worry. I will ensure your safety. My father and his lackeys shall not harm you in any way.”

You cross your arms deep in thought. Shouto is the crown prince and he does wield rather impressive power in the palace. He could definitely keep you safe, but if he truly can keep you safe from his own father is something you can’t help but doubt. But you suppose that this is the only way to stay close to him without breaking in. And as long as you avoid direct confrontation with Enji you should be fine.

You don’t agree immediately, rather, you act like any person with a job offer would, you ask about the benefits, perks and the pay. And unsurprisingly, Shouto is rather generous with his offer, so you end up accepting after taking everything you could get your hands on. You had to make enough to survive after all this is over, and why be stingy?

With that, he leads you back to the exit of the hall, telling you that he’s expecting you tomorrow in the morning. You nod and bow before you hurriedly leave the place. Because no matter how you might’ve acted in front of Shouto, you’re still reeling from the direct experience of seeing him up close and even having a proper conversation. This is much better than simply reading about him.

Returning to the troupe, you make the walk back with them with small talk about how the evening has been for them. And even if you didn’t directly tell anyone about the offer from the crown prince, it seems like Hide is kind of aware of it, as he tells you to keep the outfit, as a parting gift. You thank him profusely, as with this outfit you might be able to keep your real identity a secret for some time.

*-*

The next morning you wake up at dawn, simply staring at the ceiling without moving an inch. You know, you should slowly make your way towards the palace, but you feel hesitant. Due to your interference yesterday evening, the plot has begun to change, but from your experience in reading novels, you’re aware that whatever force is controlling this world can forcibly change the plot back to how it was, especially if you continue to meddle. And you can’t help but worry. There’s no way you’re going to be a challenge for all the assassins or attempts. You’re just a random character now, with no abilities to your name. You would be worried about your life, but you remember that death awaits you either way, so you suppose it is better to at least help Shouto to the best of your capabilities.

With a jerk you sit up and begin to prepare for your departure. You reckon there’s no need for you to take your meagerly belongings with you, so you simply put on your costume and head out.

Arriving at the palace gates, you hesitate once again. He did tell you to come, but how are you to enter the palace in the first place? Did he tell the guards? Are you supposed to introduce yourself?

For a moment, you just stand there, probably looking a little lost, as one of the guards simply walks up to you and looks you up and down. And without a word, he puts his hand on your shoulder, sudden and heavy, to push you through the gate. Wordlessly he returns to his post, leaving you looking around, confused as to why that just happened.

But in the end, it doesn’t really matter, so you walk towards the palace. And instead of entering through the main entrance like you did yesterday, you make your way to the entrance for the servants, as you are technically one now, not a guest.

You find the servants entrance easily, and you thank every author for including maps in their novels. If you hadn’t studied the layout of the palace while reading to understand the details, you might’ve taken a long time to locate the inconspicuous door.

Entering the place, you look around for a moment, before you spot a maid. You did contemplate if you should just go to Shouto on your own, but you reminded yourself that this might look extremely suspicious, in addition to your behavior yesterday. Of course you can’t just wander around even if you know the palace, people might question why you know the layout in the first place.

So, you approach the maid, making sure to make some noise to avoid scaring her. You ask her to lead you to Shouto, and while she does give you a narrow-eyed look, she complies, but not without informing a guard first. You shrug internally at that. Very reasonable of her, if you’re honest.

You follow through the long halls until she tells you to wait as she knocks and enters the room. This isn’t his room, rather, it’s his workplace. And you can’t help but sigh, how could the cruel king give Shouto his work. He is the crown prince, but also, that’s not his job to clean up after the king. Worst thing is, that his underlings are pressuring Shouto, telling him it’s what he’s supposed to do. So, he ends up almost overworking. You can’t imagine how bad it might’ve been if the poison had been added to the overwork he experiences. (Well, you can, but you don’t want to. How could you even think about your favorite character suffering like that.)

After a short while, you’re allowed to enter the room, and as you do, you immediately bow at the sight of Shouto. Partly because you had to and partly because you want to mentally prepare yourself before looking at him directly. You might just freeze again if you see him in his normal attire. While staring at the soft carpet with the intricate details, you can’t help but imagine what he might be wearing at this very moment.

You don’t get the chance to let your imagination run freely for a long time, as he tells you to straighten up with a greeting. Your eyes lock onto him, and you sincerely hope that no one can see where your sight is looking, as you immediately notice the white and fluffy shirt, accentuating not only his broad shoulders and his lean physique, but also frames his revealed assets in such a way you cannot keep looking at this space without imploding.

Averting your eyes, you look at his face, and as you’ve seen him twice already, one time even up close, you thought the effect on you might lessen. That turns out to be not true, as you feel blinded by his beauty once again. So, you resort to simply looking over his shoulders, your eyes twitching as you want to look at him but also avoid looking at him at the same time.

You can’t tell if he notices your conundrum, but you hope he doesn’t. There would be nothing more embarrassing if Shouto of all people realize how you feel about him. At least nobody can hear your beating heart if they’re not too close.

The moment he begins to talk is the moment your strength almost crumbles and you barely hold onto yourself, not doubling over as you hear how smooth and calm his voice sounds. You were too nervous to focus on it when he had approached you last evening, but his voice reverberates not only in the silent room, but also in your chest cavity. It’s slightly husky, and you reckon it’s due to the lack of talking he had done today. You try your best to focus on his words rather than on his melodious voice.

He had begun to explain what is expected of you. Such as performances during events and occasionally during meal time. He explicitly allows you to make a fool out of the king, practically giving you the official jester’s privilege. Now you’re only missing a marotte, you giggle to yourself. Of course you don’t tell him that, as being able to get on king Enji’s nerves is your current job and your shared goal. Maybe you should sometimes imply to know some of his secrets, considering that you’re under protection, if only to get him a little more paranoid.

Outside of your public appearances you’re allowed to go as you please as long as you’re ready at a moment's notice. Food and lodging are of course included in your job, you just have to go to the kitchen at certain times to receive your meals.

This is more freedom than you had anticipated, but that’s even better. That way no one can suspect you as you lounge around the whole place, trying to pick up on possible assassination attempts. As long as you don’t get caught in the several secret passages throughout the palace. This job is such a good deal, you don’t even dare haggle about your salary and possible severance pay, rather you just thank him and leave the room, not only escaping your collapse at the prolonged sight of him, but telling him that you’re keen on exploring the place.

In the halls you take a couple of steps before you lean against the wall, trying to calm your heart. This can’t be healthy, you’re meant to watch Shouto from a safe distance, not this up close. You’re going to get heart palpitations if it continues like that.

You manage to shake this nervousness off, but just as you were going to continue your meaningless walk, you notice a sudden change of guards in front of his door. This is normal, if it were to happen at certain times, but as such change is supposed to happen at regular intervals, ones you’re aware of, this one is rather sudden.

Squinting, you continue to observe the new guard. The one who simply should stand in front of the door. Yet, he is turning towards the door, hand on the handle. Before you know it, you’re already by his side, ramming your foot into the back of his knee, making him lose balance. You don’t give him enough time to get it back, as you shove him down. He crashes to the ground and you immediately get onto his chest, squatting down to get a better look on his face.

The guard curses you and you just cock your head with a grin. And it seems like the noise has caught the attention of the people inside the room, as the door opens to reveal Shouto and some of his advisors.

You jump off of the guard and bow. “Greetings again, it seems like someone wasn’t satisfied with, well, I don’t really know what exactly.” You face the lying guard once again. “What did you not like about working at the palace? The view is impeccable if I may say so myself.”

With view you mean the ability to see crown prince Shouto on a regular basis of course. If you could see his face every day, you would never suffer from any illnesses for the rest of your life.

Acting you’re listening seriously as the guard curses you under his breath and you nod as if in understanding. “I get it, Your Highness, he has been plotting treason! Why else would he spout such nonsense even I cannot repeat.”

For a moment, all Shouto does is look at you, like he wants to know what’s going inside your head. Despite your weird behavior, he complies and lets the guard be dragged away, all while he’s shouting how the king has made a mistake. His cursing is evidence enough, even if you did fabricate some of it earlier, it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Meanwhile you’re almost squirming under Shouto’s gaze, avoiding any eye contact, as you know the moment you directly look at him, your heart might just explode. Especially if he was doing something like leaning against the frame of the door, or holding his weight against it, or simply standing in front of the door, all confidence and strength. Your mind begins to imagine all different possible poses you might find him in.

Luckily, instead of interrogating you, he instead simply dismisses you and returns to his office without another word, sparing you a direct glance in his direction.

The door closes and you wait a couple of seconds before pulling out your hands from behind your back. A dagger is glinting when the light refracts against it, almost like a promise for its sharpness. This is something you have just purloined from the assassin. It’s a little hand trick to make it disappear from the sight of others, especially if they’re distracted by something else.

You’re thankful some of your skills remain, despite being in a strange world, as this short moment reminded you that even if you had managed to stop two attempts as of now, you’re actually completely defenseless without a proper weapon. And you couldn’t really ask the prince to hand over something so dangerous into the hands of someone like you, a mere stranger, only occupying this place for some momentary gain.

With a sigh, you push the dagger into your waistband, its tip dangerously digging into your thigh. You should’ve gotten the sheath too, but your fingerplay was simply not as fast as you were used to. Well, as long as you don’t move wrong, the chance of getting hurt is rather slim, so you’ll take it.

After making sure the dagger is not visible through the spacious and thick fabric of your costume, you continue your walk through the halls almost like nothing has happened.

*-*

Boredom is going to kill you at this point. Since your official employment, there had been no chance to actually work, as there were no events planned and Shouto was and still is swamped in his duties as heir. At least he’s healthy enough to work, you suppose.

At first, you didn’t even mind doing nothing, but at some point there truly was nothing to do. You have explored every possible nook and cranny of the palace, and it seems like the assassination attempts have ceased for the moment, because everything has been pretty quiet. Nothing was suspicious. Well, this might’ve been your influence, partly. Because you’re pretty sure the people behind those assassins probably did not expect their attempts to fail like that. So they’re backing up for the moment, if only briefly.

That’s what you thought, and the reason why you have started exploring the garden. You were enjoying the soft breeze and the smell of flowers it carries, until you accidentally stumble across a pavilion, one which Prince Shouto has been resting under, drinking tea on his own.

Coming to an abrupt halt, you immediately bow and begin to back away so as to not disturb him any further. But before you can properly disappear, Shouto locks eyes with you, and even if you don’t freeze up this time, you don’t get the possibility to get away, as he calls you to step closer.

“Please, join me,” he simply instructs as he gestures towards the empty seat opposite of him.

His words don’t seem like a command, rather they sounded genuine, and who are you to say no to snacking with a snack. So, you bow again and take a seat.

Despite being excited about eating with him, you can’t help but avoid directly looking at him, clenching your muscles at the mere thought of being perceived by him.

You’re not sure he noticed the mix of excitement and nervousness swirling through you, but either way, he simply tells you to eat whatever you want as he sips on his still hot tea. Peeking at him, your heart begins to race at the sight of him holding his cup so elegantly. Better said, his whole posture is absolutely regal and you think you might see rays of light radiate off of him.

Grabbing anything in front of you and almost clumsily stuffing it into your mouth, you try to distract yourself from the perfect being sitting right in front of you. You really can’t say anything rash in his presence, or you might regret it, not only for the rest of your life, but for all eternity.

That’s what you decided on, to be a calm rational person. Sadly, your body didn’t agree with you, because the moment your eyes meet his, the crumbs of whatever sweet thing you have stuffed into your mouth slip down the wrong path, and you begin to choke. At first, you tried to free yourself from their hold discreetly, and you sure are glad that the mask is covering your face, because you doubt your predicament isn’t visible there, but these particles of dough are determined to make your life worse and worse. Because at some point you could not hold back anymore and just began to cough. And it isn’t just a normal, ‘one cough and you’re free' type of cough, it’s a ‘you’re going to eject your lungs’ type of cough. You barely had enough time to turn your face and to bury it into the crook of your arm before the attack started.

Tears are running down your cheeks, and you’re pretty sure a big part of them are from your broken heart. How could you embarrass yourself in front of Shouto like that? This is even worse than being the jester, a person meant to make people laugh, this situation isn’t even particularly funny, just horrible. How could you show your face after all this?

A cup of tea is carefully put into the palms of your hands, the porcelain warm against your skin, but there’s another warmth much more potent resting against the back of your hands, guiding you to take small sips from the tea. After the aromatic drink frees the blockage in your throat, you take a deep breath, relishing in the way you can breathe again.

That is until you feel that kind of pressure on your hands, which should not be caused by a simple cup of tea. You almost hesitate, but when you finally look up, you immediately lock eyes with Shouto, but this time, he’s so much closer to you than you would have anticipated. If your mouth was still filled with something sweet, you likely wouldn’t have only choked, but probably even done something much worse, you don’t even feel the need to think about it.

In your haze of admiration and embarrassment you nearly miss the way he almost imperceptibly furrows his eyebrows. You immediately hurry to calm his worries.

“Your Highness! I’m totally fine now, please, do not worry. You might develop wrinkles way earlier this way,” the last part is mumbled, as you lift a hand towards his face. But before you could even press the pads of your fingers against the crease to soften them, you stop in your tracks. You really shouldn’t do this, as it’s not your place, you’re not meant to get close to him or to touch him. Even if he is more than a simple character to you, even if he’s the realest thing you would ever have in your life.

You open your mouth to say something, you’re not even sure what exactly, but before you could do something about this tension between you (his hands still clutching yours, he’s still crouching in front of you, looking up to you in worry, like you’re worth the worry and–), there’s a crash.

Something has flown past the both of you, barely missing your bodies and hitting the table filled with food. The table which now has an arrow embedded into its wood. There’s no time to hesitate as you let the cup drop, porcelain shattering on the ground at the same time as you throw yourself onto Shouto, pushing him to the ground. Another arrow grazes your back this time, only noticeable by the breeze and the sting of split skin.

There are no other arrows following, as the moment the first arrow has arrived under the pavilion the surrounding knights have immediately assessed the situation and began their own attack. But before they could catch the culprit, it seems like they escaped just after the second arrow had been shot.

Only when you’re sure about the safety of the situation, do you roll away, letting yourself fall onto the cold ground, far from the spilled tea. Pain shoots up your spine, but you ignore it as you watch the knights fuss over Shouto. Shouto who is safe and merely with some scrapes from the dodge.

Slumping against the cold marble, as relief floods through you. Nothing of importance has been harmed, they didn’t succeed, once again. And you hope that this whole ordeal will lead to the security around Shouto tightening. Even if it means you might lose your position due to your foggy, practically non-existent past.

You simply take a breather on the ground, trying to ignore the possible consequences affecting you, because if you get kicked out, how are you supposed to stay by his side, uh, to protect him. There’s no way you’d want anything more. Even if he is the most attractive man you have ever encountered in your whole life, but that’s another whole bomb to defuse, you’ve got bigger problems. At least the knights have taken Shouto inside already, not even giving you the chance to see him to say goodbye or to admire his face, you mean, to make sure he’s alright.

Silence coats the once rowdy pavilion, only you’re left behind. And you don’t mind, you shouldn’t, because in their eyes, you’re no one. No one but someone who’s supposed to bring them joy at the exact right moments. Nothing more. Even if you put effort into being more, it simply won’t matter. And you know it, you know it and you’ve accepted it. That’s why you slowly sit up again, your fingers trying to touch the torn skin at your back, barely grazing it before sharpness drills into you. Yet, the wound isn’t deep, merely a touch of the blade. Something you can simply leave to heal on its own. If it leaves a scar, then it does so, as there’s no reason for you to abhor or be scared of leaving marks on yourself. That is simply life.

Yet, you don’t immediately stand up to go back. You simply stay. Trying for a moment to forget the impending doom and the task of having to stitch your shirt back into one piece. You simply stay and let the air cool you down until the tips of your fingers feel stiff. Only then do you get on your feet, intent on finally going back. But before you could even leave the pavilion in the first place, a knight taps your shoulder.

Turning around to face him, you notice that he doesn’t have the air of a knight, rather one of a noble, with the way his green eyes sparkle and his equally colored hair is styled. You also notice his clothes, which do have some elements of an armor, yet too elegant to be truly one. He smiles at you.

“Excuse me, but Shouto would like to see you,” he tells you simply, but you can see in the way his eyes wander over you that many more thoughts are bubbling over in his head. He’s simply accustomed to keeping them inside, rather than sounding them out.

You simply nod, and you’re silently grateful he wasn’t expecting you to actually bow to him. Because it would be so embarrassing to do so, only for him to notice your ripped shirt. So, you’re readily following him back to the palace and to–

The door you’re standing in front of is not his office. You glance at the noble in front of you as he knocks on the door. It opens and he invites you in, yet stays outside himself.

A moment, a blink, and you do as you’re told, entering something akin to a parlor. And there he is, Shouto, in another set of clothes and impeccably clean, but safe nonetheless. He’s sitting on one of the couches, and you simply bow the moment you see him.

He murmurs your name and you look up. “Take a seat.”

For a moment, you hesitate, unsure if you’re actually allowed to comply, as sitting on the same eye level as royalty is not something you should actually dare (even if that would be your second time, but that only makes it worse, as it could develop into a habit. You don’t want that).

Yet, you follow his command, because he continues to simply look at you, and you could not bear to have his gaze on you for such a prolonged time. So, you sit down on the edge of the couch opposite of him.

But it seems to have been the wrong move, as a small furrow appears between his eyebrows, a small crease, barely noticeable on his smooth face. Upon seeing the change on his face, you tense, ready to immediately stand up and to leave, or do whatever Shouto wants from you.

Before you could throw yourself off the soft cushions, he stands up and walks around the tea table, only to take a seat by your side.

You turn to face him at such a speed, your mask almost got flung away. And you wish you could express yourself with speech bubbles instead of words to articulate ‘???’ properly. But alas, all that comes out of your mouth is a series of warbles, akin to a keysmash. You’re almost inclined to pushing yourself towards the farthest end of the couch, especially with the way his eyes wander over the lower half of your face and–

“Take it off,” he instructs you before you could do anything rash.

“My mask? Your Highness, I’m sorry, but I won’t comply with that, my identity–”

“I mean your shirt. Take it off.”

In a weird reflex, you cross your arms in front of your body. “Wh-What’s that supposed to mean, Your Highness?”

He glances at your arms before looking back at you with a new furrow between his eyebrows. “You got hurt earlier and need medical attention. I will just do that.”

“Oh.”

If the blood didn’t rush into your face due to your surprise, then embarrassment will do the trick just fine. How could you misunderstand him like that, Shouto would never do something like, like that!

You purse your lips, another thought popping into your head. “Your Highness, not to be rude, but why would you of all people do that?”

A slight tilt to his head and his hair falls beautifully onto his cheeks, and the sun hits at the right angle and he glows. You’re doing your best to not straight-up stare at him wide-eyed and amazed by his sheer beauty. You’re so focused on appearing normal, you almost miss his answer.

“Well, you did protect me, so I suppose the injury is due to me, and I cannot leave it just like that.”

You furrow your eyebrows. Technically it’s not his fault, it’s theirs and maybe a little bit yours for being reckless. But definitely not his. But you don’t know how to explain how you’re always on guard due to the rebels always targeting him and how you wanted to protect him from the very beginning. So, you simply comply.

Of course, you don’t take your shirt off, rather, you turn your back towards him with a murmured apology and lift the hem just enough for the wound to be visible. Clenching your teeth, you wait for his next actions.

A cold burn seeps through the edges of the wound and your skin feels hot and cold and tingly. This sensation continues in small jumps all over the open skin and you barely manage to breathe through it, hissing silently between your teeth when the worst part got touched by the cold fire of pure alcohol.

The dabbing stops and you barely feel his touches after that. Nothing but a ghost as the dressing is carefully taped to your back, covering the wound to protect it.

Only after the sensations of the tips of his fingers vanish (you think you might’ve felt them graze your skin a little bit more than necessary, but that surely is nothing but your wishful thinking), do you let your shirt fall back into place. Turning back to face him again, you smile.

“Thank you so much, Your Highness,” you say with a bow, trying to express your gratitude properly to him, but you suppose only actions will truly do that work for you.

For a moment, he just looks at you, gaze unfazed and calm. Just as Shouto opens his mouth to say something, does it seem like uncertainty is tainting his dazzling pupils. Closing his mouth again with a sigh and shutting his eyes, he simply dismisses you without any other explanation.

You’re almost keen to just stay and ask him for his motivations, but you know that no matter how close you feel to him, it’s all in your head and you’re nothing more than a mere subject of his future kingdom. So, you leave. Barely time for a simple glance towards him, meeting his eyes for a second, before the door closes behind you.

Despite your need to get away, to put some distance between you and him, you just stand in front of the door. The last attempt made you realize how close death could be, how precocious you have been acting, thinking that your mere presence could actually be of help to anyone, when actually all you were is an obstacle, standing between the assassins and Shouto. And while it might prove useful, to be a shortlasting barrier, the dull ache in your back made you realize that you want to be more, need to be more.

Something clicks in your mind, something that changes how you view this world, this world that once consisted of fictional beings merged into something more. A world filled with life and death and opportunities and missed chances. And you’re in the middle of it.

Straightening your back, you shove the rest of the implications to the side. There’s no time for you to actually dive deeper into this realization, what this could mean for you especially. Rather, you begin to walk down the hallway, towards the training hall, a certain objective in mind.

*-*

The sun is barely peeking behind the horizon, almost blinding you as you take a breather. At the beginning of your random training regime, you had barely managed to finish one lap around the training grounds before you started to lose your breath. Now, you just finished your second lap and your lungs started to burn towards the end of it. So, you suppose that you gained some stamina by just desperately putting one foot after the other. And normally, you would start another lap until you feel like you’re about to collapse, but today you want to try something new.

At least new to this body. You’re still not quite sure if this is your body or if it’s just one that looks like you. Especially because it feels like some muscle memory of your old life is still ingrained in you, but of a lower quality than you’re used to. That means you need to try everything with caution and act like it’s your first time to avoid any serious harm.

That’s why you had concentrated your efforts on building stamina and muscle with simple exercises. But today feels like you’re ready for a step up. So, after you catch your breath, you make your way to the rack filled with wooden weapons and grab one in the vague shape of a sword. It’s balance is alright and it’s comfortable in your grip. You actually don’t really want to wield a proper sword because it could be turned against you easily due to your lack of experience in actual fighting. That means that a wooden sword is just perfect. It gives you range and it can hurt enough to distract someone without actual injuries. (Unless you shove it into someone’s throat or stab it into their eyes or give them a heavy concussion or —)

Anyway, less harm but still quite effective for your endeavors of protecting Shouto in some way, even if it means to be a competent distraction.

You swing a couple of times to test your grip.

“What are you doing here?” a familiar voice sounds from behind you and as you almost jump out of your skin, you barely keep a hold of the wooden sword slipping out of your hand.

Hurriedly, you turn around, only to actually face Shouto. You immediately bow and mumble a greeting, glad that bowing to him makes him disappear from sight, because you caught a glance at the way his training pants hug his thighs and if you would have seen them for even one second longer your mind might’ve erupted.

Only when Shouto tells you to straighten up, do you fumble for an answer, eyes glued to the wooden stick in your hand.

“Uh, you see, I was just very curious about swords, uh, especially ones from wood. Just wanted to touch them, to feel their texture, uh,” with every word coming out of your mouth, you wanted to slap yourself so badly.

Even if you are supposed to be a jester does not mean you’re meant to be stupid after all. You really don’t want him to think of you as stupid.

You press your lips together to shut yourself up, you can’t even curse under your breath anymore. The heels of your feet dig into the dirt and you’re ready to speed away the moment he dismisses you, but–

“Then, let’s spar. Curiosity can only be satiated by knowing more than anticipated after all.”

He reaches past you, and suddenly his body is hovering over yours, his throat right in front of your eyes and you see as his soft skin dips into his fluttery shirt. If you lean towards him even the slightest bit, your lips would meet the tender spot where throat meets collarbones. Your hands are cramping by your side, one move and they would be able to reach him way too easily. The tips of his shoes tap softly against yours and his arm brushes your shoulder as he pulls back, a wooden sword in hand.

Only when he takes a couple steps away from you and towards the middle of the training ground do you release the breath you have been holding in. Despite your past inability to use your lungs, you notice how his smell still lingers around you. Some sort of mix between the smoky smell of a fire place and the refreshing one of mint, and you wonder if his lips taste like the mint he chewed–

You shake your head before the thought evolves and for a moment you want to excuse yourself and step back, but then you remember that Shouto had an almost fatal weakness. He continues to leave his left side open, and while his friends have helped him improve, sparring with people he’s familiar with will not help him grow. So, you decide to actually have a spar. Even if it’s just one.

Standing in front of him, you try your best to copy his stance. And as you’re only a beginner, he allows you to have the first move.

You rush towards him and he easily parries. Another strike, another parry. He stays on the defensive and you’re focused on getting to know how he moves. And then, you notice the opening. With a feint, you manage to get a hit on him. One that feels like it hurt you instead of him. But you can’t allow yourself to slack just yet. You continue to hit him on his left side every time he allows an opening. Until you take your chances to trip him.

While he’s falling, you don’t expect him to grab you by the wrist and pull you with him. That’s why you flounder and lose your chance to pin him down properly, as all you can think about is how you’re stradling him and how firm his muscles feel underneath your touch, weapon forgotten and limp in your grip.

If only you didn’t get distracted by the way he appears as he looks up to you from between the strands of hair and how the breath leaves his soft lips, and how much contact your bodies are making. If you had managed to react timely, then Shouto wouldn’t have had the chance to grab your waist to flip you over, pinning you underneath him. Your legs trapped between his and wrists caught in one of his hands. And due to the lack of support, he’s almost laying on top of you.

The worst thing is the look on his face as he glances down at you. He looks at you like you’re something to be astonished by, like you’re something truly worthy to wonder at.

The heat is slowly getting to your head and you quickly surrender before you blurt or do something embarrassing. Because there’s no way you would be able to stay still if he holds you any longer in that risquée position.

Shouto slowly pulls back, freeing you bit by bit, at such an excruciating pace, you almost try to pry your wrists out of his hold. But his soft skin against yours is something you want to continue to feel, the warmth of another person, of Shouto specifically.

After he straightened up, he still hasn’t let go of one of your wrists, gently pulling you into a sitting position. Still holding you, he lets his gaze travel over your covered face. (You refuse to pull off the mask outside of your assigned room, wary of the King and the rebel spies. That��s why you have been even wearing it during training.)

Still, despite the coverage it feels like his eyes are able to see you, to truly see the you behind the thin facade of the jester.

“I know what you’re doing,” he suddenly drops, and you stiffen up underneath his touch.

“What– What am I doing, Your Highness?”, you ask, afraid of the answer, no matter if it’s the right or wrong one.

A small sigh. “Since the moment you’ve stepped into my life, well, rather stumbled into it, you were always involved with the assassins around me…”

“Wha– No! It’s purely a coincidence! That’s all I do, stumble around!” you hurriedly try to deny whatever accusations are thrown your way.

Yet, none of your words seem to have any impact, he continues without regard for your protests. “You have been protecting me, why?”

That’s what makes you lose all words, all arguments. You can’t answer him. You can’t tell him that you have known everything from the very beginning. You can’t even tell him a half-truth half-lie, that you heard all kinds of conspiracies. None of these would work. Everything you might say will make you look suspicious. And you’d rather not lie to him.

So, you simply slip his hand off of you, and he lets you go without resistance, just with furrowed eyebrows at your motion.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter as you leave, avoiding answering him, risking breaking the fragile trust he has been building towards you. But it doesn’t matter. All that matters is his survival, and effectively yours after everything is over. There’s no need for it to be more between you. (Even if you wanted to confess everything to him, to tell him how much you appreciate, even love him. But you can’t, you never will.)

(How could you tell him anything, to confess to him about you and your feelings when you’re all-too-aware of what’s about to come, what’s about to happen. You can’t afford to distract him during such a vital time, especially with all the effort you have put in towards making sure he’s alive and healthy… You might’ve accepted this world, but that does not mean that you have a place between its people…)

*-*

It’s supposed to be a simple meal with the royal family. That was the plan. Just King Enji with his children, trying to have some sort of get-together once again. It’s supposed to be simple, as normal as a family of their caliber should be. Shouto has even requested your presence during the meal, as a means to get the King to have an early death due to his blood pressure, maybe.

But you know. You know what’s supposed to happen. And you still came, still decided to have his back even during the climax of his story. One where he’s supposed to perish, but now won’t. Your interference has led to him still being strong and healthy as the Crown Prince is supposed to be.

He won’t lose. The story won’t end in a tragedy.

The door breaks. Pressure putting cracks into its hard wood and splinters fly everywhere. Surrounding knights immediately step forward, building a line of defense between the royal family and whoever is on the other side. Kind Enji barely glances from his meal, even if Shouto has risen to his feet, ready to protect his family if needed.

Your own fingers find the hidden hilt of the stolen dagger, still buried in the space of your clothes. But you don’t step forward. Your fate lies in him, no matter what happens, he shall rise triumphantly.

For a moment, only the clatter of silverware permeates the silence. Until footsteps echo through the hall. Their beat indicates a slight swagger, one confirmed once a black haired individual comes into your sight. You swallow back a gasp. The descriptions in the book would have never led you to believe the extensive scarring stretching over bones, barely healed burns with a shine of purple. Something of pain and suffering. Something a child never should have gone through.

“Ah, Father, did you miss me?” a raspy voice rumbles and fills the air, choking everyone who hears these words.

A crash. The chair resembling a throne has fallen with the vigor of movement from King Enji.

“Speak no lies! Touya has perished long ago!” his powerful voice on the verge of a crack, resembling a man standing at a cliff refusing to see the way down to his end.

“Father, dearest. Your words wound me so, I shall do my best to prove my worth to you,” Tou– no, Dabi clutches his chest dramatically, laughter tinting his voice, another type of crack, one that desires the jump oh-so-much.

Before any of the guards could react, everyone too shocked by the reveal in front of them, Dabi grabs a pitcher filled with water, water meant to be served to royalty.

Yet, he does not simply take a swig, rather, he lets the liquid pour onto his hair, staining his shirt with the blackness that once stained him, revealing white with such purity as snow, a white resembling the one the heads of the royal offspring.

This time, everyone else gasps, you think to see wetness rimming Princess Fuyumi’s eyes at the sight of her long lost brother. Worse even, Kind Enji’s shoulders seem to sack down, as if a sudden weight has returned to him after thinking he was free of the burden.

But no one gets enough time to process the dead coming back to life, as the whisper of metal death resounds. Dabi, who managed to get closer with each person shocked by his appearance, is now wielding a sword. The distance between him and the King is but a jump, one he’s eager to commit, even if it may lead to his demise.

“I’m remorseful, truly, but we have to say goodbye, Father, you possess something I desire and only your death shall allow me to bring it into my possession,” he grins, swinging the blade towards his very own father.

Before cold metal meets warm one, there’s noise of metal against metal. Shouto has jumped in front of Dabi and has parried his intent to kill with the will to protect. You watch as he glances towards the guards, the ones who had gotten busy with the barrage of rebels in the meantime, blocking any effort to try and defend against the true adversary.

But Shouto is still here, his sword steady in hand and mind as clear as his eyes as he locks not only swords but eyes with the brother he has never known.

“Well, isn’t it nice to meet the perfect little Crown Prince? The one who took everything away from me!”

The grin Dabi has worn turns upside down into a snarl, one filled with a different anger, an anger caused by what might have been, one that knows that everything was out of their control, yet why does he have to suffer so?

His attacks seem never stopping, only thinking about moving forwards, about defeating the opponent, barely noticing the way his skin strains, the way Shouto’s blade glides over him, making him bleed oh-so-slowly.

A slash towards the left side of Shouto, and you wince, but blood shall not be spilled and Shouto manages to parry it, even if barely with the touch of a feather. The metal clashes and vibrates, and it seems like the unending cuts and wounds, alone amounting to nothing, but together building a fountain, have started to make an effect. Dabi’s swagger turns into a stagger. His hands tremble as he holds onto the sword with all his might, still swinging and swinging and swinging. But never hitting.

You will never know what motivated Shouto, you will never know what the future holds anymore. But that’s a good thing. Nobody is supposed to know that much, and your lack of knowledge about the coming events means that doom has been subverted. So, you will never know why Shouto has simply decided to wound Dabi, to give him a last act of mercy as he saves him from himself. Maybe he wants to give him another chance, a life where he could be whatever he wanted to be, and maybe Shouto wanted a little bit more freedom. But those are your guesses, and this Shouto is the one you have known for such a long time, but a different one nonetheless.

But that doesn’t matter, you love him all the same, and with his safety secured, you don’t need to know more.

With silent steps you leave the hall, walking towards the room Shouto uses the most. With this ending, there is no need for you in this place anymore. And you should be content. But you can’t. You feel sorrow burying in your heart, digging itself into your veins at the thought of leaving him behind, of never seeing him again. But you must. How dare you stay for no reason at all? You’re not needed, and they –he– won’t miss a mere jester.

Opening the door of his office, you don’t look around, too afraid that you might change your mind at the sight of his belongings. You leave a letter, one to resign, but also one to say goodbye, and by its side you rest your mask, something that has belonged to you, but shall no more. You leave it behind to close this chapter behind you, to refuse to remember everything at its sight in your home.

And then the door clicks behind you and there’s nothing but home, nothing but the little hut in the woods waiting for you.

*-*

It has been some time since you have last visited the village. You’re going to be honest, you don’t need to. Despite the amount of money you own being enough for you to survive comfortably, you decided to make your own little garden, to cultivate your own food and to distract yourself, among other reasons.

So, of course you’re surprised when a couple of soldiers stop by your place, as most of the news never reaches your little place. They barely talk to you, rather, they ask if you live here and simply nod at your response before marching off again.

Scratching your head as you look after them, you shrug it off. As far as you’re aware, you’re not violating any laws or something. This is technically your property, so you suppose you would have a pretty strong standing if there’s a court or whatever they do around here.

What you did not expect is for another person to emerge. One that practically glows under the rays of the sun, his dual-colored hair shining like ice and fire as the breeze plays with them. At this sight you immediately drop whatever utensil you’ve been using to work in the garden. A curse under your breath and you push the hat you’re wearing lower in a weak attempt to hide your face.

Until the tips of his shoes appear in your vision and you can’t help but take a peek. Your eyes meet his and recognition flits through them.

Before you could utter any rambling excuse, Shouto kneels and takes your hand in his. He guides it to his lips. “My Savior”, he mutters against the back of your hand before he presses a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“Ah, Y-Your Highness, please, stand up,” you fret over him, yet not pulling your hand out of his grasp, a part of you had missed his feathery touches against you, him being oh-so-careful every time skin touches skin.

He stands up and his free hand brings something to your face. You can’t help but close your eyes, only to feel a smooth surface against your face. Your mask. And his hand cups your cheek as he leans down. Your eyelashes flutter, his lips meet yours and you melt into him.

You fit into his touch as a mask fits a face, and you realize that this is where you belong, this is where you should be. Not only because fate has brought you to him, but also because he made you a place by his side from the very beginning. Love can be given and received, but a place to be loved has to be made, after all.

[paleprincessturtle]

hi! Hope you’re doing well! I was wondering if I could request a Harvey fic where Harvey gets jealous once reader gets some male attention. Harvey was always used to the reader falling at his feet, watching him with her doughy eyes, always finding an excuse to talk to him. But then he noticed her getting distant with him, almost not acknowledging his existence. Then he noticed flowers get delivered to her office, a guy coming by her office to take her out for lunch, etc. and poor little Harvey getting upset that she’s not at his mercy anymore lol & he confronts her about it :)

Happy New Year and I hope all of you people had a great holidays!

This one is for my friend @marjorie189! Thank you so much for the request and hopefully you like this.

Enjoy!!

Winner Takes It All

She walked briskly out of the elevator. Her bag was on her right shoulder while she tried to balance the two cups of coffee she carried and a few files she also carried at the crook of her arm. She made sure the one on her right hand was Harvey's coffee. Since Donna became COO, it wasn't unusual for her to see that Harvey had forgotten his coffee. Since then, she has made it her mission to bring Harvey his morning coffee. She was relieved to see the door to Harvey's office open. She invited herself in. "Hey, good morning," she said in a chirpy voice. "Morning," Harvey answered shortly. "I brought you coffee. Just how you like it," she hoped that Harvey would look up at her. But instead, his eyes were glued to the laptop in front of him. "Great, just put it here," Harvey signed with his head to the place around his desk. She shuffled around, trying to balance everything as she placed his coffee just beside his pen. "So, how was your morning?" She waited expectantly for Harvey to look up at her and probably finally realized the new dress she put on. Harvey finally looked up at her after a split second, but the expression on his face wasn't what she expected. There was annoyance in his face. "It was good and productive before you came in and decided that today would be a great day to just sit around and talk." She smiled curtly at his response. "Alright, I'll get back to work. Enjoy your coffee," she said as she waved at Harvey and walked out of his office.

She giggled to herself as she read the reports in the library. Harvey would like it, she thought. Scratch that; Harvey would love this. A huge help to his case. Even though she wasn't assigned to this case with him, she always secretly kept track of his cases. When she knew he was in trouble, she took extra time to help Harvey, aside from doing her own cases. She always ran to Harvey's office with her findings. "Harvey!" She barged into his office. Harvey's face was a mix of confusion and irritation. "I found this," she said, handing Harvey the papers she had photocopied earlier. "This is good," Harvey said, giving her a small smile as he nodded. She almost jumped in joy upon hearing that this would help Harvey. "Just good?" she teased. "I don't know, Harvey. I think this is brilliant!" Harvey sighed. "If you need praise and flowers, go to Louis. This is good, but get back to work. What are you doing anyway with my case?" Harvey questioned her. "I'm helping you, of course," she said as she giggled. "Thank you. Now, can you please go so I can call my client?" Harvey said as he picked up the telephone. "Bye, Harvey!" she said as she left his office, closing the door behind her.

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

It was just like any other morning. Every partner had a meeting before the day started to touch base on everyone's cases. Harvey was assigning some new cases to every other partner. It wasn't long before the meeting finished. She stayed longer than everyone else, as she saw Harvey also stay longer. She looked like she was about to leave but stopped at the end of the table. Stopped exactly beside Harvey. "Do you need help with that?" Harvey, who was flipping some documents in front of him, stopped and looked up at the woman smiling down at him. "Actually, yes." She nodded excitedly. "Can you deliver this to the DA office?" She doesn't even ask questions. "Consider it done," she said, bowed, and left the room.

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

For the past few days, Harvey didn't realize anything different until one morning he saw his newest and youngest partner. She just walked by his office. He remembered how, in the past few weeks, she never stopped by his office to deliver him his morning coffee. He stood up, trying to catch a glimpse of her. She brought with her a cup of coffee. A cup, as in a singular cup. Harvey's brows knitted, but he just shrugged and got back to whatever he was doing before.

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

"Hey," Harvey said, entering her office after knocking. "Hey, Harvey," she greeted him, eyes never leaving the paper in front of her. Harvey noticed the unnecessarily big flower arrangement on a credenza behind her. She caught him staring at her freshly delivered flowers. "Are you going to tell me why you're here, or are you just going to stare at my flowers?" Harvey straightened himself; he seemed caught red-handed. She watched him impatiently. "I was wondering if you could help me with the deposition tomorrow." She shook her head. "I'm taking the rest of the week off ," she informed the clueless Harvey. "In the middle of the week?" Harvey folded both his arms in front of him. "Yes, I've asked Donna since 1 week ago. I've taken care of everything." Harvey looked at her as if she had two heads. "Where are you going?" She laughed. Harvey smiled at the sound he hadn't heard in the past few weeks. "Why is it your business?" Harvey was about to answer when she interrupted him. "I'll get someone else to help you, okay? Don't worry. Now, if you excuse me, I think my client just entered the conference room." Harvey stood there, flabbergasted.

Harvey was talking with Donna as they waited for the elevator. Harvey heard a familiar laugh approaching, but the voice was accompanied by a deeper laugh. Harvey whipped his body around and tried to locate the laughter. There, she was laughing with a man Harvey had never seen before in his life. They approached closer, seemingly wanting to leave the building as well. "Hi!" she greeted Donna and Harvey. "Oh, where are you two going? A lunch date?" Donna teased them. "Maybe," the stranger answered as she smirked at Donna. Okay, Harvey thought. This person knew Donna. "We haven't had the pleasure of an introduction," Harvey straightened himself. "Jonathan Seymour," the man said, smiling and extending his hand for Harvey to shake. Harvey took a quick second to look at his hand and chose to ignore it. "Harvey Specter, but you must've seen my name before seeing me," Harvey signed to the wall behind them with the name of the firm etched. "I need to see you before you go home," Harvey pointed his eyes directly at her. Before everyone could say anything, Harvey stepped inside the full elevator, leaving the three of them.

"Harvey, I'm about to leave. You need to see me?" Harvey moved his head, and she got inside his office. "Since you will take the rest of the week off, I need your help with those files." Harvey pointed at some folders stacked upon one another. She wanted to say no, but she felt bad now that she was taking the rest of the week off. "Okay, sure," she smiled. "What should we do?" she asked as she took off the coat she just put on.

Harvey watched her work. The fact that this was just a little over midnight, the fact that now her hair was in a high bun, and the fact that she looked very beautiful as she pouted, concentrating on the task at hand. He missed this. He missed her presence. Her chirpy voice. Her smile. Her scent is one of amber and rose. "Are you going to tell me where you are going for the rest of the week?" Harvey started the conversation. "I'm going to accompany Jonathan. His cousin is getting married in Aspen. But he said he wanted to show me around," she smiled. "Are you happy?" Harvey asked abruptly. She was taken aback by his question. The man he had been trying to get close to for almost a year was now asking personal questions. "I'm happy, Harvey. Any reason why I shouldn't?" Instead of answering her question, he asked her another question. "So you can positively say that you are happy with this Jonathan?" She sighed. "Where is this going, Harvey?" She put her pen down, giving Harvey her full intention. Harvey was quiet for some time; she raised her eyebrows at him and demanded that he continue. As she saw Harvey struggle to find words, she picked her pen back up and got back to work. "I like you," he blurted after a full five minutes of silence enveloping the room. "You what?" she asked, her voice higher than usual. "I like you. I don't like seeing you with Jonathan. I like you, and I never realized it before." She looked at him, and confusion marked her face. "Don't go with Jonathan. Go with me. I want to show you how sorry I am for treating you badly for the past couple of months, and I want to show you how much you mean to me," Harvey said as he kneeled in front of her, hands intertwined. She looked down at their hands. "You have to win me over, Harvey." But everyone knew, Harvey always won.

MASTERLIST

[elsa-fogen]

At first i was going to reblog this from @justashadowlooker

but then it got too long and off-topic, i started retelling and quoting my own 10 years old fanfic, so i'm making it it's own post jjdsfjkdfgh

Too long don't read, was a Bloom fan, killed her hundreds of times, than became Icy fan, killed her few times as well, still a huge fan, wanna revive some of my old ideas

When i had just started watching winx, Bloom was my fav AAHAHHAH (it was 2008-2009 year i think). Buuut... being my fav means that you gonna SUFFER. It was always the case, even when i was little. But young me didn't know better than to just kill of a character. And Bloom died SO many times in my early fanfics and arts. I still remember one fic, it was also the first ever fic i posted on the internet, and it was horrible. I typed really slow at that time and i was looking at like 10 A4 pages of handwritten fanfic and was like... weeeell i don't need this part with description of the boat... i don't need this part about wind flowing in her hair or smth... i don't need spaces after dots and commas either. These were real thoughts of 9 year old me lmao.

the fic was about Bloom and Sky going for a boat trip date, but there was also some bitch that fell for Sky and her best decision was to throw Bloom away from the boat. As a result she was sucked into the screw of the motor or whatever this thing called. Sky dived after her and brought her back on the boat, but she died due to the blood loss.

In my handwritten version it was really long and tears queezing scene, but i was too lazy to type it all, so it basically was shortened to 1 (one) sentence: Bloom didn't make it to the port.

i also had a picture attached, it was i think a cover of some of the comics where Sky holds Bloom on his arms and they're stepping out of the water, but i photishoped it and added many wounds and BLOOD BLOOD EVERYWHERE!!!

I also remember photoshopping screenshots from the first winx movie, adding bloody wounds on Bloom and tears and trying to make her face sad lol. And also i remember, i didn't have access to the computer all the time in my childhood, and there was a weird time... when i'd got a chance to be on the computer, i would made a specific search in google, to find that one art with Bloom, being fucking stabbed, lying on the ground and crying, and touching the golden heart-shaped locket with the name Sky on it, and you could see that it was Sky's sword that stabbed her, and he was walking away in the distance. I could stare at that art for hours, imagining how it happened. I also remeber how the art suddenly stopped showing up at the search and i had only tiny squeezed jpg version of it, and i thought that google banned this art for being so violent lmao

Btw i found that art, it's by Chibiusa-Moon, here it is, and i remember it diffferently, i thought Bloom had enchantix on her lmao

BUT THEN SOMETHING CHANGED. I DON'T KNOW WHEN. I DON'T KNOW WHY. BUT ICY CAME AND DESTROYED MY LOVE FOR BLOOM, AND TOOK HER PLACE.

I suspect that it happened after i saw ep1 of season 3, because HAVE YOU SEEN THIS WOMAN IN THAT EPISODE?! SHE WAS ✨✨S L A Y I G✨✨ DAMN!!! She freed herself looking fab as fuck (i've only seen her battle uniform at that point, and her casual outfit shocked me, i was like HOLY SHIT?? DIFFERENT COLTHES?) (and it's if you forgen the HOLY SHIT, TRIX IN THE FIRST EPISODE OF THE SEASON?!!!), sayed the edgiest thing in the world, then freed her sisters, skated away from the giant snake ON HER DAMN HEELS AS A QUEEN!!!!! I think this was the moment when i fell for her. Maybe i'm wrong and it happened earlier, but this is all i can remeber.

Well, i also remember when my mom got me my first winx magazine and i was really disappointed that there were no Trix in the comic AHHASJGDAJS it was comic about bloom and diaspro going to the land of the dragons.

And, funny enough, i think i didn't kill Icy in my fics (mostly)

wait fuck. i remembered one (that was actually properly published and finished), let me just refresh my memory real quick- (gonna cringe soo hard ahaha)

oh shit i also remembered some stuff. In my later fanfics i was tending to make Bloom real psychopath, who decided to straight up destroy all the witches and all the dark magic. Hey. Hey. I bet 13 year old me wouldn't mind if i borrowed this idea fom her...

EHM ANYWAY, BACK TO THAT ONE FINISHED FIC!

It's so cringy written, but it's got the spirit HASHDHA. The trix summon some another army of darkness that was created to destroy fairies (hey), but at some point they lose control of it and the army turns against them. They have no ther choice but to seek help from the winx. winx of course don't want to help since their army attacked alfea... but the trix didn't give this order.

by the way tehre's one dialogue that i think is actually good and i think is in character

"But how do we know that it isn't one of your tricks?" - asked Tecna. - "Probability of this equals 85,9%!" Everyone froze. Nobody had this idea before. Then Icy shook her head. "No, it's not." "How do we know?" Stella said suspiciously. "If we wanted to trick you, we'd choose less humiliating way" Icy replied coldly.

in the end witches and fairies teeaming up, and going on an adventure to stop this army with some artifacts. Significant part of the way they had to make on their own without magic, and during that winx and trix are actualy growing to like each other. OH THERES ALSO A FUNNY THING LOL

But as a night roommate she [Icy] turned out to be very restless. She was moving all the time and mumbling something. And then at some point she screamed: "Damn fairies, i wish you all dead!" Bloom jumped on her place and still half sleeping replied: "Shut up, witch, or you're done for!" and fell back asleep. All in all, it was hell of a night.

i still think this is funny af-- damn these dialogues are only getting better. Next day they getting closer to their destination.

Suddenly they heard Stormy's voice: "Wait! there's some sign! Icy, can you read this?" "Why her?" Stella asked offended. "We all here can read!" "Except for you," Darcy noted gloomily and everyone laughed. "Ha, well, if you're so smart, come here and read!" Icy said with the sweetest voice. "And next time we'll ask you." Stella understood that she was cornered. To save the rest of her dignity, she came closer and started staring at the sign. "I-I cant for some reason, this handwriting is awful!" with dispair sloar fairy realised that she doesn't understand these letters. "And this cold is driving me nuts! Give me cup of hot coffee and warm blanket!"

then Icy teaches Bloom how to skate. And then Aisha (Leyla) dies by falling into some bottomless pit- After that they make it to their destination, but the army was waiting for them there

another dialogue

"Let's go!" Icy said decisively. "No, wait! I'll go alone. If they catch me, you all get out of here as fast as you can" [...] "No!" Bloom said. "I'll go with you!" "Fine. But they'll kill you immediately" "And you?" "And I will be tortured" Icy smiled.

I can't with this lol, Icy smiling at the thought of torture as a true psycho she is.

Icy touched the wall, making sure it's quite hard. "Well? What's next?" "You're the brain of the operation, you tell me!" redhead replied, crushing piece of the rock in her hand

i just like this interaction here.

"Winx Believix!" Winx screamed. And Trix didn't scream anything, Icy just snapped her fingers and all three were already in their witch uniforms.

yeah classic.

the fight begins, Icy is trying to understand what to do with the artifacts, Musa dies, then they teleport to some other planet where they can perform the ritual to destroy the whole army at once. They're reading the spell, but something is missing, and the army attacks them here too. This time Bloom is left to figure out what were they missing, and some drops of her blood fell on the artifact and that was the last piece of the spell. The army is destroyed, but Icy was seriously injuried when covering Bloom from attack from behind. Now they're flying back to Magix

FUCK-- guys i'm sorry. More dialogues on the way.

"Why are you here?" she [Icy] asked, opening her eyes. "Doesn't want to miss your death!" Stella screamed, she overheard the talk. "Shut up!" I [Darcy] replied. "Or I'll hit you!" "Oh-oh, I'm so scared!" "Discussed my funeral already?" Icy asked, surprisingly, without sarcasm. "Come on, don't listen to that fairy! She has only fashion and straw in her head." Icy smiled weakly. "Magix!" Bloom screamed looking out the window. Fairies came closer to the glass. "Where?!" Icy got worried. Golden-green disc of the planet surrounded by thick ring of asteroids was hanging in the center of the window. Icy could see it without moving. "And here my dream came true. I got Magix!" she lifted her arm and closed her fingers around the planet. "Didn't think that the view from the space is so beautiful..."

DSHGJADFKAJHSFDJG what have i done. This line about her dream coming true HITS HARD. Fuck, 13 y.o. me knew which buttons she should push.

Icy dies. Darcy and Stormy were forgiven because they helped to stop the army and for Icy's "sacrifice" and everyone very conveniently forget that they started the recent war. The end.

Damn that was a ride.

um, so where were we?... right i was saying that Icy became my new hyperfixation instead of Bloom...

And i had the whole trilogy planned, in the first one she'd escape from some prison and attempt another plan to counquer Magix, but fail, in the next book she'd be KILLED by Bloom but came back to life by making a deal with someafterlife owner (HA) and the last one where she actually succeeds... this one i din't think through at ALL.

I kinda wanna revive that plot fron the second "book" tbh, i still remeber it really well.

In a comic.

(i'd make it a crossover with Hazbin but it won't work unfortunately)

okay i don't know where and how to end this post so i'm ending it here, have a nice day thanks for reading i hope that at least someone made it to the end.

[slutforpringles]

Hey Jaimie, I just wanted to come on here and say thank you for all your contributions to the DR3 fandom. Whether it’s fighting for Daniel’s rights on Reddit or posting all the latest news, you’ve become somewhat of a lifeline for me. Your highlighted articles are my favourite to read, because it keeps me up to date with everything that’s happening. I truly hope you know how appreciated you are here, and I hope that the community that you’ve built here stays around for a long time, despite the recent news. Thank you for your dedication and positivity. Take care!

Hey, I know you sent this earlier today and I'm sorry it's taken me a while to reply, but I wanted to sit down and write a proper response. Getting this message was genuinely so lovely and I can't tell you how much it meant to me to hear that my tumblr has been able to be a positive place for someone 💞

I know I've very rarely been super personal on here, but this sport and this fandom has come to mean a lot to me, so I wanted to use this moment to express my gratitude to the dirlies (gn) and this community.

I was first introduced to F1 through friends while I was living in Europe in 2019 through DtS. I knew from the first moment I saw Daniel he was my favourite. I was immediately enamoured by his vivaciousness and that unabashed joy for life that exudes from every fibre of his being. But I was busy studying overseas and just didn't have the time to be fully bitten by the F1 bug.

I came home at the beginning of 2020 and between the pandemic, lockdowns and my personal life going toooootally to shit I was in a pretty bad place. And it was after a few months of struggle and wallowing that somehow my youtube algorithm landed me on a video of Daniel. I was hooked and very quickly worked my way through highlights, interviews, social media clips, all the funny videos, then each race highlight video as it came out in 2020, which led into every single WTF1 podcast (🙃😂) from 2020. The amount of google searches I did trying to learn all these racing and engineering terms and technical phrases I hadn't come across before (I distinctly remember googling what "box, box" meant because I had no effing clue what it meant 😂). I read every article I could about the upcoming season and the insane hype of Daniel going to McLaren (🙃🙃🙃) and can remember that first FP1 session in Bahrain I ever watched live.

I kind of stumbled onto tumblr via reddit. As I'd been learning about and becoming obsessed with F1 and Daniel I'd made my way onto the F1 sub, and for a long time I could be found on there first learning, and then discussing (and then later arguing for and defending Daniel lol). And I think it was as reddit started becoming more and more anti-Daniel that I started spending more time on tumblr.

For a long time before I joined tumblr I lurked, reading so many of all of your wonderful posts and opinions and seeing all the beautiful and creative fics and art. The mclaren hate blogging era was some of the best (and worst) times and some of the masterpieces on here in defence of Daniel and his career are so iconic and I have referenced their points/stats/quotes so many times in defence of Daniel.

I was a bit scared to fully join tumblr and start posting but I felt really quickly welcomed into this community on here. None of my friends IRL are remotely interested in F1, and so getting to talk about it here with all of you has been such a blessing (and I think my family are probably incredibly grateful that they don't have to listen to me talk about F1/Daniel quite as much as before 😅).

I just wanted to say how incredibly grateful I am to have gotten to experience the last few years with all of you on here. It hasn't always been easy and it's been a rollercoaster - that's for fucking sure - but the highs have been SO incredible. Daniel brought so much happiness and joy and laughter into my life at a time when I really, really needed it and seeing the outpouring of love for him on here the last few days has been beautiful, despite the heartbreaking circumstances.

I don't know what the next few months will look like without Daniel in F1, but I'll be sticking around for sure. I know I'm not always the best at replying to messages or inboxes (I blame my ADHD) but I'm always here for a chat and my messages are always open💞

[yayeetsonny]

One can only take so much… before they break

(Alex Morgan X OC)

Hi, yes i know i’ve been away for a very long time, but I wanted to give this writing thing another shot to see if I still had anything left in the tank. Hopefully this isn’t the most dreadful thing you’ve ever read. So sorry if it is. Please be advised this one deals with some very strong emotions and topics. Implied mental abuse, Suicidal ideation and just overall sadness and anxiety. This will be a multi parter as my fingers got away from me lol.

This one is 99% Alex x OC, although the character’s name is never dropped as I wasn’t sure if I was going to make this an x reader fic or not. If anyone has any name suggestions at the end I’m all ears. And future parts will definitely be more USWNT x OC

3.4k Words

Everything is your fault. It always is. Why can’t you do anything right?! It all fell apart because of you! You know that, and so do they. They hate you for it. Your own mother won’t even talk to you.

“Hey, kid… Kid?…Dude!” I was so lost in thought I didn’t even hear one of my teammates calling out to me.

“Huh? What?” I looked up to see Alex looking down at me worriedly.

“Are you okay little duck?” She said squatting down so she was eye level with me. She put her hand on my cheek rubbing it softly raising an eyebrow when i didn’t say anything immediately.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, I’m fine.” I said softly, making a poor attempt at a smile but I’m fairly certain it came across as a grimace instead. I looked down and refused to look back up even though I could feel Alex trying to get me to look at her.

“Hey… what is it?” She said moving her head so she could look into my eyes, which at this point were watering and I was doing my very best to force the tears away.

“I-It’s nothing… I-I’m fine.” I said, my voice breaking. I brought my hand up to rub my eyes and I stood up and tried to make a quick get away, but Alex wasn’t having it.

“Stop, what’s going on? What’s wrong?” She put her hands on my shoulders to try and stop me from leaving but I pushed her off and started to walk away.

“I said I’m fine, just drop it Alex. Please.” I gave up trying to stop the tears, they were freely flowing now and i let out a sob as I broke into a full sprint when I heard her starting to follow me, calling out to me. I ran passed several of our fellow national team, teammates who were watching everything unfold.

I beat her to the locker room, grabbed my stuff and made a mad dash to my car, getting in and attempting to regulate my breathing. The tears were still coming in full force, sobs racked my body as I tried and failed to calm myself down. How pathetic is this? Crying like a big baby, because your mommy made you sad? I really am weak aren’t I? No that’s not true. The girls always tell me I’m strong and that I’m their brave big girl. Yeah it’s a bit baby-ish but it gets the point across. I wrestled with my own thoughts and was so engrossed in arguing with myself that i didn’t even realize I made it back to my apartment already. I also didn’t hear my phone ringing incessantly while I drove. I hesitated a bit seeing as it was Alex, probably trying to figure out where i went. It almost went to voicemail before i decided to answer.

“Hello” my voice was raw from all the crying I did, but I sounded more tired than distraught now.

“Baby, where did you go? What happened back there? Why did you run away? Please talk to me. I’m worried about you.” She said all in one breath, I bit my lip contemplating my answer. Then i took a deep breath and decided to just bite the bullet and be at least partially truthful.

“I… um, I was going thru a-a lot during the break between camps, I mean I guess I still am going thru a lot right now, given my very apparent meltdown earlier. I-I’m sorry Alex, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I won’t do it again, I swear.” My damn voice started breaking again as the tears started back up.

“Hey, hey, hey… little one, please breathe, you’re okay. You have nothing to be sorry for. Take deep, slow breaths, in and out.” she said gently, guiding me thru some breathing exercises until my breathing was less erratic. “Can you tell me where you are please? I’m going to come get you and we’ll talk this through and maybe we can order a pizza and watch movies, what do you say?” She asked, I could tell she was trying to remain calm but I could hear her voice quiver just slightly. She was scared, and rightfully so, this isn’t the first time I’d run off and usually when i did, I became self destructive at worst and let myself rot in bed for a week at best.

“I’m at the apartment.” I said and she let out a sigh of relief on the other end of the line.

“Okay good. I’m on my way, be there in 10. Stay there, please.”

I took one last deep breath before I got out of the car and made my way inside. I intended to sit on the couch and wait for her to get home but then the more i thought about having to talk to Alex about what’s been going on the more anxious i became. I started pacing and started mumbling to myself about what i was going to say and how I was going to say it. I wanted to let Alex in but I knew if I wasn’t careful I would let her in too much and I wasn’t ready for that. Being 17 and all my ability to regulate my emotions and understand them wasn’t the best as I’m sure you’ve already figured out.

10 minutes went by quickly and Alex was there before i knew it. She quickly made her way inside and dropped her bag by the door, coming up to me and taking me by the shoulders again to get me to stop pacing.

“Stop, please. You’re spiraling, what’s going on?”

“I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Like what? Is it your family? Soccer?”

“Family.” I mumbled, attempting to yank myself out of her grasp but she just wrapped her arms around my torso tightly so i couldn’t run away. “Let go Alex I can’t do this. Please let go.” I kept fighting against her hold but she wasn’t relenting, and while i would’ve denied it in the moment, I needed that.

“Shh, shh bub, just relax. I’ve got you. I’m here now it’s all gonna be okay, okay? I promise. Please just let me help you.” She said softly and I finally just allowed her to fully pull me against her chest, she relaxed her grip just slightly moving one of her hands to the back of my head, stroking my hair softly, resting her chin on the top of my head. “You’re okay, you’re safe now.” She whispered, and she continued to mumble reassurances to me as she rocked me in her arms slightly.

“Do we have to talk about this?” I mumbled.

“Yeah kid unfortunately we do. You know the rules when you decide to run away like you did earlier.” She kissed my head before picking me up with ease and moving us to the couch. She kept her hold on me and let me curl up into her lap, I tucked my head in the crook of her neck.

“I don’t want to.” I attempted to say firmly but it came out as a whine.

“Remember what I said? It’ll all be okay. I know this is scary but I’m not going anywhere and anything you tell me isn’t going to scare me away. I promise you. You’re my brave big girl, hmm?”

“I’m 17, you know?” I said in an attempt to seem tough.

“And that’s why i said you’re a big girl. But you’re still the baby on the team and little one to me.” She said chuckling softly. “You can do this.” she said after a moment rubbing my arm gently.

“I can do this.” I repeated to myself. I moved myself out of the safety of Alex’s arms slightly, putting some distance between us and turning to fully face her, steeling myself for the tough conversation ahead. I’m a very sensitive and emotional person so these conversations always make me cry no matter how much I try to stop it.

Do you want me to call the rest of the girls? Is this something they should know about too?”

“Too many people. Not ready, I think it’s better if I tell you everything first and then maybe only tell them the gist of it after.”

“Okay, then that’s what we’ll do. Whenever you’re ready.”

“I guess I’ll start at the beginning. So you know how in between camps and during off season I go home to be with my family? Well I went and everything fell apart, and it’s all my fault. Just like everything always is.”

“Hey, no don’t say that.” She cut me off, she hates when i am self deprecating.

“Its true though. I fucked everything up. You know how my brother and I work at the same place right? Well and you know how my shift is closing? So I work 1-10pm? Which my mom hates.” She nodded her head as I was talking to let me know she was following along. “Well one night it was bad… The weather was horrendous because in my hometown we get a lot of snow. A-and so one of the days I worked I was one of the f-few people to show up and, when everything was all said and done there was a huge mess left behind from the disaster of a day we had….” I was beginning to become emotional just thinking about what had happened that night, and i hated that it still made me feel such strong emotions.

“It’s okay, do you want to keep going?” Alex asked me softly, stroking the back of my head softly. she knew sometimes that talking about things was hard for me and that i needed to take breaks in order to get the whole story out.

“Yes i need to. I can do it.” I said determinedly. Blinking away the tears.

“Anyways, it was a mess and being a “Back up Team lead” sometimes i made a decision to send everyone else home and clean up. And since my brother worked on overnights I called him and asked him to come help me clean up so that i could go home at a semi-reasonable time. He came over to help but when they wanted to send him back to his normal area he refused and he s-started arguing with his boss about how he was going to choose family over his job at the moment and they d-didn’t like that so they sent him home for the night, and he didn’t have a car so he called my mom to pick him up…” I stopped to catch my breath as i realize I hadn’t been breathing

“Shh, easy baby, nice, slow deep breaths, you’re doing so good.” She said. I hadn’t been looking at Alex very much this whole time but when I finally did I could see unshed tears in her eyes. I knew it was hard for her any time i was upset or emotional in a negative way. She gently wiped away the tears that made their way down my cheeks.

“My mom came to get him, and then she called me, and she was angry, she demanded I come home so I did and when I got there she told me she had a lot of opinions about what happened but she was just going to keep her mouth shut. She told me to get out of her sight so I did. She wouldn’t even look at me. Just like that I was transported back to when I was a little kid and she would get angry and she would just tell me she didn’t want to look at me. It felt like a knife to the chest. I didn’t understand what i did to upset her so much and I knew she wouldn’t tell me. All part of her “healing process.” I said bitterly.

“Fast forward to the next morning, I woke up to the news my brother had been fired. I called him to apologize and I asked him what our mom said to him and he said that she blames me for him getting fired. She said I should have known better. I knew how much he needed that job.” My hands were shaking and my breathing was ragged as I played with the strings of my hoodie.

“That wasn’t your fault, you have to know that.”

“Yes it was. It is. He hasn’t found a job since and he-he’s struggling again. You remember what happened last time he was struggling don’t you? I can’t do that again, I can’t! Everything he does, every decision he makes that’s not good is my fault. My mom wants me to be “an example” for him but he’s older! How fucking twisted is that?! Why are things never his fault?!” I yelled standing up suddenly startling Alex.

“Okay, okay let’s take a break hmm?” Alex stood up holding up her hands to show me she meant no harm.

“No! You don’t get it! Everything is my fault! My own mother thinks so! I know he’s struggling but can’t she see I’m struggling too?! ” I threw a plastic cup that was on the table across the room.

“Stop. Now. We don’t throw things when we’re upset, do you understand?” Alex said sternly.

My lip wobbled as I started crying again. “I’ve spent the last 4 years trying my very best to hold my family together through everything we’ve been thru. I got my brother the job working where i do and now I’m the reason he lost it. And now he and his girlfriend risk being homeless because she doesn’t have a job either. And if they lose their apartment they move back home with my mom, which means I’ll probably have to move back to be there with her because I can’t just leave her there by herself with them. It wouldn’t be fair. Which in turn means I’ll have to put my life on hold. The life I finally made for myself.”

I’m so tired of being emotional exhausted. I can’t keep doing this. I don’t even want to be alive anymore.”

“Woah, hold on… what do you mean by that?” Alex’s eyes widened as she processed what i said.

“I mean what I just said I don’t want to be alive anymore okay? I want the pain to stop. I need it to stop.”

The silence that followed was long and tense. I immediately regretted saying what i said. But realized i couldn’t walk it back. Alex finally took a deep breath and began speaking again.

“How long have you been feeling this way? Do you- Do you have a plan?” She asked quietly, her voice breaking as she did.

“No I don’t have a plan, I just sometimes think about how much easier it would be if I wasn’t here anymore. And sometimes I think about hurting myself but i haven’t acted on it. And i’ve been feeling this way since last year, when my mom and i got into that big blowout fight at Thanksgiving. You know she didn’t even want me moving out here? She’s never really let that fight go.” I laughed hollowly.

“Thank you for telling me, and being honest with me. I know that wasn’t easy. Why didn’t your mom want you to move out here?”

“She thinks you and the girls have too much of an influence over me. She thinks you guys are “changing” me. She threatened to force me to quit playing soccer all together.”

“What? Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”

“It didn’t seem relevant.”

“Didn’t seem relevant?! How’s that? If i had known that I would’ve just had you move out here permanently!”

“Alex…”

“No I’m serious! I understand you’re still 17 but you’re out of high school and you should be able to decide your own path.

“I’ve been trying, but the situation with my brother gives her more reason to say i should just quit playing.

Alex goes quietly again and I can tell she’s thinking. I can tell she’s angry. She has never really liked my mom and visa versa, their relationship is courteous at best.

“I think sometimes you forget that you’re still a kid. I know that you have had a lot put on your shoulders and that a lot is expected of you, but your brothers choices that night are not your fault and I’m sorry he’s having a hard time and he might have to move back home, which yes will be hard for your mom but that doesn’t mean that you have to give up your life for them. They will be okay. I promise you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes i do, you wanna know how I know?” She said and I nodded meekly.

“I know because your brother is strong, and so is your mom. And while i’ve never met her I’m sure his girlfriend is too. You don’t have to hold anyone else up but yourself. Not anymore. Their emotions and their… predicaments are not yours to try and fix. i don’t want you going home for a while okay? It’s clear that it’s taking a toll on you and to be frank, This is your home. Here with me, With the other girls. We have you okay? And we will never leave you. Ever.”

I turned away from her and tried to calm myself completely. I was so over all the crying and I bet you are too.

“You’re probably so sick of me crying.” I said chuckling quietly. Alex Vehemently shook her head and wrapped her arms around me, kissing my head.

“Not at all, you needed to get it out. it’s never good to hold it all in like you did, you know that.”

“I know, I just…”

“Have a hard time letting yourself be vulnerable. I know love. I know. So here’s what we’re going to do. I think writing your thoughts out might help what do you think?”

“Maybe…” i said hesitantly.

“Don’t worry no one else will read it but you. And the only way anyone will ever know anything you write down is if you tell them. And I know you going home for part of the year is to help you be able to pay your half of the rent but don’t worry about it okay? I will cover any excess we have from the missing income okay? I meant it when I said your home was here with me.”

“Alex you don’t have to-….”

“Yes i do. You’re very important to me, and I care about you and the things you need. And right now you need a bit of a break.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

“Anything for you kid. Now listen I also want you to really consider talking to a therapist or a mental health professional about how you’ve been feeling okay? I won’t force you but I think you might benefit from it. And please talk to me, or one of the other girls if you feel like hurting yourself. I don’t want you to think you have to go thru that alone okay?”

“Okay i will.” She’s right, it’s probably about time i go to therapy, I’m still hesitant as sharing my feelings and the things i keep inside has never been my strong suit.

“Now, how about you go take a warm shower to calm down a bit more, I’ll order some pizzas and get the girls over here?”

“I’d like that.” I smiled softly and headed upstairs to do as she suggested.

About an hour later I was showered, comfy and sitting on the couch sandwiched between Alex and Christen. A “Chrislex” sandwich if you will. Tobin was on Christen’s left, Mal, Sam, Kristie, Rose and the rest of the team were laying as close to me as they could get and spread out through out the living room. Pizza was also spread out through the room as people shared with one another. We had Moana on as the girls said I could pick and that’s my go to movie. I was so focused on the movie i almost didn’t notice my phone buzzing at my side. I looked at the text that came thru and my heart dropped as I realized who it was from… My mom.

“You need to come home.”

Is all it said. My hands instantly started shaking and I had that panicking feeling rising in my chest again. Alex looked over at me curiously and I forced the fakest smile i could muster onto my face. I’m in deep shit now…

//

To Be Continued…

There will be a part 2 and the rest of the team will be in that one more, promise. Please let me know what you think!

[shyalia]

Happy One Year Anniversary

to The Day the World Broke by @saladmix!!! She deserves all of the recognition for writing such an incredible and in-depth story, please go show her some love!!

To celebrate and show my immense appreciation, I spent the last two months working on an animatic for it. It's not perfect, but the vision is there and I'm honestly proud of myself for completing a major project like this. 100+ frames later (not all of them made the cut, unfortunately) it is finally complete just in time for the anniversary!

I'm about to ramble, I apologize in advance lol. Feel free to scroll down to the next blue text to see the animatic, please mind the spoiler and trigger warnings!

This fic is so important to me and holds a special place in my heart. I came across the first chapter the day it was posted, so early that it didn't even have any hits or kudos yet. The title and little description intrigued me so I clicked on it, and I'm so glad I gave it a chance because I was hooked from the first paragraph. Little did I know how much it would impact me that evening after raving about it to my best friend, during and after reading it. I'm not kidding when I say it has been on my mind every day for a full trip around the sun. Its AU is so unique that I haven't read anything like it before. The writing is beautiful, the storytelling is captivating, and the characterizations of the boys are so in-depth and relatable and a joy to read, the plot is insane and every chapter blows my mind... I could go on about it forever!!

I've read that first chapter more times than I can count, and the rest of it several times as well because even at 300k+ words, every single word is worth the time and energy. I'm always finding subtle details that are easily missed in earlier chapters that come up again later and I have a "WAIT HOLD UP" moment, like @saladmix is a genius I swear. When going back through chapters to locate details for my artwork to make it as accurate as I can, I always find myself getting lost reading because it just pulls me in, even though I already know what is about to happen... it's just that good.

Honestly, I can't get enough of this story, it means sooo much to me. It has inspired me to become a better artist, to have the courage to write my own stories, my enjoyment of reading has been rekindled, and most importantly, it brought friendship. @saladmix is such a kind person, she is so supportive and funny and a pleasure to talk to, I'm thankful to have her as a friend. Keep on being awesome, girl!!

Okay, I'll stop rambling and let y'all see this animatic that I worked so long on! xD

Please be forewarned that it contains spoilers up to and including chapter 23, so if you have not read that far and want to avoid spoilers, save this to watch at a later date!

TW for brief images of knives and guns, and for light sensitivity as some very bright frames come up. I apologize if you're sensitive to those types of things!

[linonyang]

FROM THE OTHER SIDE.

pairing: non-idol!felix & gender-neutral!reader

featuring: svt jeonghan and seungkwan

genre: fluff, very minimal comedy (just boohan + reader bickerings), lowkey soulmates au, part of painting faith universe

warnings: none

word count: 2.1k words

synopsis: all you hoped was for you and the cousin's heir to be fated to meet each other. but perhaps the string of fate (and your brothers) quickly pulled you to him sooner than you thought.

tag list: @kpopstuffs @awooghan @cosmic-railwayxo (join the taglist here!)

note: well,,, i am back? here's how felix and his (future) lover met for the spin off/prequel of some sort i'm writing for the painting faith universe!! sorry if this appears to be a little bad and bland since i'm quite rusty like it's been MONTHS since i last wrote something long lol (and yes, i made boohan the reader's older brothers bc why not?? :p) ... hope you'd enjoy this bit !!!

another note: there's no need to read painting faith for this!!! this can be a standalone fic :> just take note that this universe has rival gang au elements, so expect bits of the concept to be mentioned here, that's all !!!

© linonyang - all rights reserved. please do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours.

That face in particular felt like home.

It felt familiar. There is something comforting with the freckles on his cheeks that are as beautiful as the mysteries of space, along with the lashes sitting as delicate as flower petals. The graceful movements and the gentle smile on his face are enough to brighten the sky and calm the seas. 

All you know is that he is related to some of the notorious figures of the city. Also, you only know his name and nothing else. You do not know how he lives, what he likes, and what he exactly does.

You just hope you get to cross paths someday, just to know him.

Seeing him walk around the streets every weekend as a regular among the tented market stalls was enough for you to grow this puzzling curiosity over the Leyva. You have spent the past months sighting the boy every time you spent your early mornings with your brothers at a cafe nearby.

You were brought back to reality by your older brothers who caught you staring at the noble across the stone road. 

“Why are you drooling over that Leyva, _____?”

“Kwannie, the boy is not a killer, unlike his family! Plus, I think he’s quite handsome, there’s no denying that the Leyvas has such genes—”

“Says the narcissist who always admits he’s the most handsome bachelor of the city—”

You laugh and move one of them away from the other, in case anything physical happens. They naturally don’t bicker with each other, but a really great laugh always omits from you whenever they do once in a while. 

Attempting to debunk your brother’s claim, you smile with fondness towards Seungkwan as you recover from laughing over your brothers’ antics, “I’m not drooling over Felix, Seungkwan!”

“My, _____, it doesn’t look like that,” he comically tilts his head, hums, and raises his left eyebrow, enough to make you chuckle further over your brothers. 

Jeonghan waves his hand to the younger brother, “We barely see our youngest eyeing someone, let them be!”

That’s how it goes among the three of you. You never bothered to propose any changes as all of you peacefully and mirthfully grew up together as siblings. Energies might be different for every member of the family, but they all blend very well at home.

“You know what? We’ll visit our mother later tomorrow anyway, why won’t you buy a lovely bouquet of flowers from any of the shops there?” you hear the eldest offer as you bite into the delicious pastry you ordered earlier.

Seungkwan, knowing the intentions behind Jeonghan’s suggestion, hits Jeonghan’s shoulder with his fist and cries, “Ah, I know why you’re asking _____ to do that!”

Jeonghan exclaims and defends you, “I’m doing _____ a favor! They’re old enough to make decisions for themselves. Seriously, Kwannie, let them do what their heart desires!”

You are still aware that they’re in the stage of bickering, so you don’t take into heart Seungkwan’s hostility towards the idea of you getting interested in someone. However, you have to thank Jeonghan for not invalidating the mere possibility of you liking Felix. He didn’t seem to care that you’re doing what many young adults do.

There is just this feeling erupting within your chest every time you see the blond boy.

However now, he is nowhere to be seen in the shops across your seat. He presumably left the area and fled to somewhere else.

Maybe it is not time for you to cross paths, as opposed to Jeonghan’s idea, but there is no harm in walking through the same steps as where Felix just walked moments ago.

Walking out of your seat, you amuse your brothers by telling them you’re going to follow what Jeonghan said. Consequently, you take a few steps back to snatch the purse on the table owned by your brothers and go on with buying a bouquet.

The walk to the shops was very quick, as the cafe was right across the first few stalls under the tents. You thought of splurging with the cash in the purse—more like including buying things you are sure you and your brothers would enjoy.

You know that your brothers would be absolutely endeared with anything matching, hence why you bought three beaded keychains that are shaped like flowers. What makes them more special is that the beads are gradient, making them look prettier than they already are. You decided to match them too with the hibiscus bouquet you eyed on your way to the keychains stall. Both had a combination of violet, pink, and orange, which materialized the sunset your mother always loved.

Your train of thought about your mother took over your mind while window shopping for more items you could purchase. Technically, you’re unable to buy anymore at this point as your hands are immediately full. The large purse your brothers own already takes up one hand, the bouquet for the other hand, and the small bag for the keychains is already hanging in one of your forearms. If you ever buy something else, you just hope that they have bags prepared.

Conscious of what you smell, and your heart calling for the sweet-smelling of banana loaves and brownies, you rush towards the bakery stall and plan to bring home something that you and your brothers can munch on at the end of the day.

Once your sense of smell feels the strongest of the bread and pastries and your eyes are completely fixated on them, you immediately ask for the price.

“Your order’s on us! This is our first time including these in our shop, so feel free to take some home and let us know if it’s great to bake more of these,” the lovely granny tells you.

Your head turns up and you unintentionally create eye contact with one person you never expected to meet.

“Our terrific Felix here decided to help us and include more to the shop,” the granny pats the boy’s back, “he volunteered to bake some samples to be distributed today first before officially including them in the menu.”

Your heartstrings tug at the thought of the boy you’ve been eyeing from afar actually playing a large part in this specific stall, especially during the peak days of struggle in the city. You have known him to be a part of the Leyvas, but you have seen enough to know that he has a soft spot and takes part in many activities in the city. 

Never did you expect that he would directly help a family, all you’ve seen from sighting far away was him supporting many of the stalls by purchasing and befriending many of the vendors.

Staying away from the other side all this time, maybe you haven’t seen everything yet. And seeing more of it just makes your heart yearn for this young boy. 

As the sweet old lady steps away to deal with another customer, the blond smiles at you and says, “I hope you’ll enjoy these! Granny Lou has been special to me, especially to the Leyvas, so I hope the inclusion of new bakes soon can help them somehow, especially they’ve been in need of money for a while now.”

You gasp and eagerly nod. You point at the pastries on the table in between both of you to signal to him that you’ll be taking home (potentially) delicious baked goods. Just based on the aroma, you have no doubts so far that you’d loathe them.

Felix softly asks which you’ll be bringing home, and you answer what you truly want—the banana loaf and brownies—with a smile on your face.

He quickly goes his way to grab a paper bag and prepare your order.

Much to your surprise, he works very enthusiastically. He appears to be enjoying this sideline, just by noticing how he communicates and moves around the stall.

“Here is your order! A loaf and three slices of brownies,” he reaches out a warm brown paper bag, “and three large cookies! I have a feeling that you might enjoy these cookies too!”

Eyes widening, you quickly wave your hand in disapproval and attempt to return the bag, “I believe I would, but this is too much already! Let me pay to help Granny Lou for today, at least!”

Felix shakes his head and gently pushes your hands away, “As granny said, it’s on us. If you want to pay so badly, just come back next week and let us know if you liked the food!”

You sigh. Clearly, you have no choice now, so you reluctantly nod and tell him, “Alright, I’ll let you guys know next week. I’ll also let you know what my brothers think of them.”

You’re not sure why you’re daring yourself to face him once again next week, but you’ll just pray that you’ll be as sane as today when you meet him again.

The blond boy clad in linen squeals and clasps his hands together, “That’s great, more feedback! We’d appreciate that so much!”

“Will you still be here next week?” you ask, finding your way to include another bag in your hands. Barely able to hold everything on your hands, you hear Felix answer yes and ask if you need a larger bag for the things you have to hold.

“Nope, I’m all good. My brothers are nearby, I can give some of them once I return to them,” you look up to meet Felix’s worried face, “really though, no worries, I’m alright. I just didn’t expect to purchase a lot today.”

Worry still apparent in Felix, he asks you once again, “You sure?”

“Yes, _____ will be fine. We’re here!” Felix jumps at the voice coming from nearby, he instantly assumes that your brothers have come.

“Kwannie, you’re so loud!” you hush to Seungkwan, moving your hands up and down to let him know that he should tone down his voice. Jeonghan silently grabs half of the things you’re holding and elbows Seungkwan to grab what remains in your hands.

In the middle of Jeonghan waiting and Seungkwan sulkily playing with you to get the things out of your hands—his voice booming with “Oh, come on, let me hold something for you!”—which made Jeonghan pinch Seungkwan on the waist, Jeonghan quickly greets Felix, which he returns with the same amount of enthusiasm he had with everyone else, and tells you both to go and finally return home.

Just a few steps away from the stall, you ultimately greet Felix with a sweet goodbye. Felix then gleefully waves his hand and tells you, “See you next week!”

“Seems like someone will be meeting someone next week!” Jeonghan smiles and wraps his arm around your shoulder. The eldest appears to be more ecstatic than ever.

“Out of all the people you could meet though, you met a Leyva, _____,” Seungkwan mumbles. 

Jeonghan immediately speaks for you, surprisingly. “I’m pretty sure our youngest knows what they’re getting into. It’s okay to warn them, but don’t overwhelm them too much until the point that your constant warnings will sound discouraging.”

Seungkwan rubs your head with his cheek in worry, “I know, I know. Just be careful, especially since the Leyvas have something going on with the Solanos at the moment. Their tension has gone worse lately, I think it’s just a little scary to be associated with any of them at the moment.”

“I think I’ll be fine. It’s not that he’ll fall in love with me very soon, I think just getting to know him would suffice for me right now,” you unconsciously smile at the thought of finally talking to him.

For someone who’s a desperate hopeless romantic, you are quite lucky to finally bring the prospective red string quicker than you thought. “Something is pulling me onto him, I don’t know what exactly, but I have a good feeling with it. I surprisingly didn’t freak out when he suddenly entered my vision,” you giggled.

Also rubbing your head with his cheeks, Jeonghan giggles and pinches your cheeks, “_____ is falling in love, at last!”

You’ve never been this insane about a guy, which kind of scares you. But as you said earlier, with your impressive performance of not freaking out in front of Felix, you have a great hunch that things will be fine with him—you just know it. You instantly felt this sense of comfort with him on your first contact together, and you have a feeling that it would go on in the future.

“We better make you look good next week—”

“I’m just gonna visit him in the market again, Seungkwan!”

“I’m just looking at it as a date!”

“It is not, shut up!”

[halfhoursonearth-writes]

A new fic and some thoughts on process and the miscommunication plot

I’ve gotten a bit blocked working on the next set of chapters for But Who’s Counting?, and I probably won’t have anything I’m happy with to post for a few weeks.

But, to try to break through the writer’s block, I took a discarded idea for an early version of that story's climactic scene and wrote a short new fic. I don’t consider this story a spoiler for what’s coming in But Who’s Counting?; basically anything I plan to keep for that piece, I’ve changed in this one.

And you certainly don’t need to read But Who’s Counting? in order to read You Make Everything Better. If you like Zutara fics with yearning, self-denial and also the end of yearning and self-denial, I hope you'll check it out!

I also brought some some writing process thoughts. Oops.

Something that has happened both times I’ve written Zutara multi-chapter fics is that the two characters fall for each other earlier than I initially plan. I’m not the most committed outliner—as a writer I’ll usually follow the energetic flow of the characters rather than any hard plotting I've done. And I find the empathy just grows so quickly between these two characters once there's opportunity.

The downside to writing this way is that often the scenes that initially motivated me to write a particular story no longer work in the story as it unfolds. So I’m often killing darlings while they’re still a twinkle in my eye.

In my initial (imagined, lol) outline of But Who’s Counting? the climactic chapter looked something like this new story. But then the relationship between the characters progressed too significantly to land in this sort of scene without constructing a major miscommunication plot for the sake of it. And I thought about doing that! I started writing that draft. And then I had to reconsider.

I don't dismiss miscommunication plots out of hand. In fact, I think miscommunications are basically essential devices in certain enemies to lovers or friends to lovers plot arcs. And frankly, real humans miscommunicate constantly, so I think this trope is more reflective of reality than it's given credit for.

For these reasons, there’s probably still some miscommunication ahead in But Who’s Counting? because there’s a lot these characters still don’t know about one another, their respective worlds, and what they want. But I didn’t want to contort the character arcs for the sake of a scene that no longer fit the story. For me, when miscommunications require me to suspend disbelief about character choices, that's where they get frustrating.

But I just couldn't let this scene go. So now it finds its own way into the world!

[lululawrence]

Sus' 40 to 40 Countdown: 11 Days

Since I had one sister participate earlier in the countdown, I wanted to find a way to allow my other sister to participate haha We tried SO many different options for her (mostly a bajillion different phrases or words lol), and because of the number of fics that have already been used we were having a really rough time finding more than just one or two for each option, so finally I came up with an option that brought the results I was hoping for! Therefore, today's theme is...

Fics That Include The Trope of My Youngest Sister's Choice (meet-cute)

Quite the Pickle - Nick Grimshaw/Harry/Louis (mpreg, established Larry, polyamory, pregnancy cravings)

Nick hated pickles. It was an entire thing for him and he used to get into arguments all the time when his mum insisted he could just remove them and the sandwich would be fine without them.

She never seemed to understand. The flavor was still left behind because of the juices. The scent was still there. The pickle was never fully removed. Not successfully. And now one was sitting on the plate, almost touching his perfectly pickle free sandwich, all whilst leaking it’s flavor and scent all over his chips.

Good thing there happened to be a pregnant man with a craving nearby.

And Then I Saw His Face - Harry/Louis (fortune telling, mediums, fate, destiny, supernatural elements)

The fortune teller tilted his head and studied Harry with narrowed eyes as he walked over to join him.

“I’m Louis,” he said matter of factly, “and you don’t know why you’re here.”

Rings and Things - Harry/Louis (girl direction, strangers to lovers, soft fic)

The one where Harry wakes up after a night of drinking to find her bed isn't empty and there's a ring she's never seen before on a very important finger.

I Like Digging Holes - Harry/Louis ( Radio 1 Breakfast Show hosts Zayn and Harry, Instagram, flirting, banter, fluff)

The one where Harry and Zayn host the Breakfast Show and Louis is a popular YouTuber who catches Harry's attention.

We're Written In The Cards - Niall/Lewis Capaldi (fortune telling, tarot reading, ghost tours, soulmates)

The one where Lewis owns a shop in Savannah, Georgia where he makes most of his money off of tourists and those looking for a bit of a spiritual experience after a ghost tour. He thought the cards were mocking him, but when a beautiful Irishman comes in, he just might find the cards were right after all.

All 40 to 40 Countdown Posts

[starlightkun]

love bites ❧ teaser [sungchan]

❧ teaser word count: 746 | full fic: 25.5k ❧ warnings: cursing, talking about like werewolf biting/marking and scenting and stuff, this is a werewolf fic either you’re into this stuff or you’re not lol ❧ genre: fluff, so incredibly fluffy and sweet it should’ve been a warning honestly, established relationship, modern magical creatures au, college au, werewolf sungchan, human reader, ft. siren shotaro, werewolf jeno & various magical neos, same universe as strawberry sunday, sequel to changer ❧ extra info: this is a sequel to changer! it cannot be read as a standalone, you must read changer first! this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe (aside from changer to this one), they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: so this is technically the spiritual threequel (fourqual?) to my werewolf jeno fics (pupsick + abh) but you still don’t have to read those to understand this one at all! this is absolutely meant to be read by itself (after changer, ofc) ❧ estimated release: saturday, november 18, 2023 2:00 p.m. eastern time

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

“So what were you so invested in on your phone?” Shotaro asked, cracking open a seaweed-infused sparkling tea drink popular with younger sirens. “You usually love Real Sirens.”

You popped the tab on your soda, taking a sip before answering. “I was doing some research, on what we were talking about earlier—”

“I thought you said there wasn’t a lot of research on half-werewolves.”

“Not a lot of scholarly research. But I found some people posting online about their own experiences either as half-werewolves themselves, or dating half-werewolves. About the scenting.” You explained, pausing to take a bite of your food. “And it seems like the general consensus is that most likely because their sense of smell isn’t as great as full werewolves, but they still can smell that kind of stuff, unlike humans, half-werewolves get a little more… intense with scenting behaviors.”

“Gross.”

“I meant the clothes and the hugging, dude.” You soft-balled a kick at his shin under the table. “Not my fault you’re immediately gross.”

“Does it ever stop?”

You grimaced, “Well…”

“No?” He asked with wide eyes, presumably having the rest of his recently renewed lease flashing before them.

“Again, there aren’t a lot of half-werewolves. Or at least ones talking about it. But there is one half-werewolf/human couple I found who says that the scenting took better, and the behaviors therefore decreased after…” You trailed off, messing with the strings of Sungchan’s hoodie.

“After…?”

“After they followed through with the werewolf mating bite.”

The siren stared at you blankly. “Oh.”

“They’re the only ones I could find online who has done that, so who knows if that’s a guaranteed result, not to mention that at that point they were also human married, and had been together for over five years, so there was definitely just a lot of security in their relationship not to mention they’d been living together for years so they were going to smell like each other anyway—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Shotaro stopped your defensive rambles gently. “You two don’t need to do that for me. Just wear his clothes and be annoying, it’s fine.”

You stabbed your fork into a bun. “Yeah, I know that.”

“That was some weird stressing of your words there, Y/N. Anything you want to share?”

You let out a long, steady breath, your lips just a centimeter away from being pressed together. Your mind was swirling with the memory of Sungchan’s last shift. Of him asking you to take his bite. He hadn’t mentioned it again since, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially because he hadn’t brought it up again since. And seeing his dad’s last night…

“Sungchan mentioned it once, but I don’t know how serious he was being, and he hasn’t brought it up again,” you admitted before tearing into the bun you’d just assaulted. It was filled with delightfully seasoned veggies wrapped in smooth, pillowy dough. God, these really were some of the best steamed buns you’d ever had.

Shotaro practically did a spit take with his tea, dribbling the sip he’d just taken back into the bottle. “He what? When?”

“Shotaro—”

“No, he brought up essentially werewolf engagement to you— What? While you two were playing video games or something? And neither of you mentioned this to me?”

“It wasn’t like that but... sure. I guess.”

“No, no, what was the context? Post-nut confessions or something?”

“God! Why are you like this?” You groaned, dragging a hand over your face in exasperation. “No, he let me be with him for his last shift, it was when he was coming out of it. He wasn’t all there, he was tired, he had all the extra adrenaline and everything else going through his body still.”

He didn’t seem convinced. “So I was right.”

You gave him an unamused look. “Think more like a boxer with a concussion.”

“And you haven’t brought it up with him since?”

“I was just focused on making sure he was okay. And now, I don’t know, he hasn’t mentioned it again. Maybe he wasn’t serious about it?”

“If he was... would you say yes? To be werewolf married?” The siren waggled his eyebrows at you teasingly. “Or half-werewolf married? Half-werewolf half-married?”

“They really need to make like even a single MCS class mandatory in the Gen Ed requirements, because what the hell are you saying to me right now?”

“You know what I mean. Would you say yes?”

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