#but imagine if i was wrong! i would not want to come out of my cave ever!

[luveline]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝

You try to break up with your boyfriend. Aaron just wants to know why. (And what he can do to fix it.) [4k]

c: fem, stripper!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff epilogue, suggestive themes mdni. requested here 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

I don’t want to see you anymore. 

The text doesn’t compute at first. He reads it twice. Reads the sender’s name, his heart stopped clean in his chest. 

He puts down his pen.

The idea that the text wasn’t meant for him crosses his mind, but that might further break his heart. He knows you have clients, but you don’t contact them outside of the club. 

His second thought is that he’d been a client unknowingly, but he made it clear to you those few months ago that he liked you as you, not as a service provider, and not as something to be bought. You thought he was trying to acquire you as a private escort. He explained it as what it was truthfully, if vulnerably.

He’s being broken up with, he surmises. Over text. By a woman he adores, who he’d thought was happy. Aaron opens his phone to call you, clicking your contact, bringing it to his ear. You don’t answer. He calls again and he’s clearly declined three rings in. 

He puts his phone down and has a few minutes of unbreathable heartbreak. Just a few minutes, his hand to his stomach, trying to think of things as reasonably as he can. 

Aaron doesn’t care that you’re a stripper. He might’ve at first. Denied his attraction to you, because of course he had feelings for you when you were standing against the side of the club in your dancing lingerie, who wouldn’t fall in love with you? Every fool lucky enough to see you undressed must assume the same thing. He thought it wouldn’t work, and that you’d never be interested in a man like him. 

Interviews for information lended themselves to rare moments of conversation. He liked how you talked, how your eyes moved to his, the way you watched his mouth. Your unusual friendship with Spencer drew you closer, and activated a rare seed of jealousy within him that helped him place you in his life. He had real, tangible feelings for you. 

And now it’s over. 

He scrunches his eyes closed and gets up from his desk. Puts his coat on, but leaves his things where they are on his desk. 

“Hotch?” Morgan asks as he descends the steps down from his office into the bullpen. 

“I’m not sure when I’ll be back.” 

“What happened?” 

Aaron turns to Morgan, hiding his panic as well as he’s able to. “I have a small emergency. It’s fine. Can you make sure things are okay here?” 

“Hotch?” Morgan asks again. 

Aaron keeps on going. He tries your number again on the way down. Three times, a fourth by the time he’s at the parking garage. 

The fifth time, you answer. 

He almost breaks the phone, its plastic body creaking in his hand. “Honey?” he asks. 

“I don’t want to see you anymore, Aaron. Is it hard to understand?” 

He’s taken aback. Some part of him had held onto the hope that it was a mistake. “Yes,” he says slowly, struggling to pull his keys out as his car comes into view, “it is.” 

“I don’t want to be with you.” 

“Have I upset you?” 

“Would that make it easier?” 

“No. I don’t think anything would make it any easier. Honey, this feels so sudden. Can’t we talk about it?” 

“I don’t want to see you.” 

“Please.” He can’t imagine never seeing you again. Just a few days ago he was sitting at the dinner table with you laughing opposite, your socked toes brushing his ankle. “Please, give me the chance to fix this.” 

“Aaron, it’s not really fixable. Please don’t call me again.”

“Y/N,” he says, firmer now. Anger leaks into his tone —what’s going on? “Let me come over. We need to talk about this.” 

“No–”

“It’s not fair to me for you to do it over the phone.” 

“…Okay. Fine. I’m at home, but I have work at six.” 

“I’m on my way.” 

He hangs up. Your terse allowance is all he needs to get in the car and drive, checking his watch. There’s plenty of time between now and six. He can figure out what’s wrong and hopefully change your mind.

He thinks about it more seriously as he’s parking outside of your place. Perhaps he doesn’t want to change your mind. You aren’t acting like you, none of your kindness can be found in such a swift dismissal, but he thinks of your foot under the table, your sock rubbing along his ankle without comment. 

He takes the stairs to your apartment. It’s not the nicest place to stay, but it’s far from a slum, either. He doesn’t worry about you when you’re home beyond the usual everyday fears: Is she eating? Sleeping? Having a good day? 

Now he’s thinking, What did I do? 

He gets to your apartment and pauses at the threshold. After a moment's deliberation, he knocks. 

“Come in, Aaron.” 

He pulls down the handle and lets himself in. You’ve mail piled on the sideboard and your shoes tucked under it, a coat rack further in bragging scarves and coats and jackets of all different colours. He’s always liked the interior of your apartment. It doesn’t feel as cold as his own, parts of your personality peeking in through everything, from the flowered tiles in the bathroom to the glass lampshade in the bedroom. 

You’re sitting in the kitchen with the light off. “Hey,” he says, voice already laden with relief he doesn’t mean to share. 

“Hi.” 

“Can I sit down?” 

You gesture for him to do as he likes. 

Aaron sits down at your table. It’s a small square just big enough to share dinner, plain wood edged in a darker slate grey outline. Sometimes when you’re feeling especially pretty, you’ll lean heavily on an elbow and grin at him, enticing him in for a kiss.

“What’s this all about?” he asks quietly. 

“I just think we’re… at the end of our relationship.” 

You don’t sound truthful. He knew there was something strange in your voice over the phone. 

“What’s making you feel that way?” 

“Does it matter?” 

Again, avoiding and evasive. 

He meets your gaze unflinchingly. “I care about you. I love you,” he says. “I know I can’t be who you pictured for yourself, and if you really can’t see a future for us, then… I’ll have seen it alone. I just wish I could understand this sudden change. Did I do something wrong?” 

“You’re not who I picture for myself,” you agree. 

“No?” he asks. 

“No. You didn’t do anything wrong, but I can’t see us together. We’re not the right fit.” 

You twist a ring around your middle finger. He thinks he’s starting to understand. “Do you think we’re not the right fit?” 

“Please don’t use your psychoanalysis on me.” 

“It’s not psychoanalysis, sweetheart, it’s– I know you.” He grimaces. “I’d like to think I do. And I’m allowing myself the audacity to believe you were happy with me just a few days ago. What happened between then and now to change your mind?” 

You stare at your two-toned table. Your mouth opens to talk, little but air making it out. Your shoulders begin tightening like you’ve been keyed between them, twisting and twisting. 

“What do you want me to say?” you ask. 

Dramatic, he’d hope you could say you don’t love him, or don’t care about him enough to let him convince you the rest of the way. “Is this really what you want?” he asks instead. 

Your staring turns to squinting. With a start, he watches a small tear drip from the corner of your eye to your nostril, to your cupid's bow. 

“No,” you say carefully, “it’s not what I want. I don’t like you being against me.” 

“Then what’s making you feel this way?” 

You cover your eyes with one hand. “I wanted to do this over the phone,” you say in a squeeze. 

He reaches for you but doesn’t touch. “I couldn’t let you.” 

“I just want you to be happy,” you say, so high he can barely understand you. “I’ll never be like you, Aaron. You’re so smart, and you’ve done so much. You’re a hero, and you must look so stupid with me. What do you think people say when they realise what I am?” 

“It doesn’t matter to me what they say. I know you, and they don’t.”

“What about what I think?” 

“What do you think?” 

You wipe your face roughly, eyes lit with an anger he’s unprepared for. “I told you, don’t psychoanalyse me. I don’t want to have to explain it, I just want to say what I have to say. I don’t want to be with you because you won’t be happy, and neither will I.” 

Aaron isn’t too prideful to recognise when he needs to fight for what he wants. He reaches over the table and takes your arm into his hand, picking it up, feeling down The length of it until he’s curled his hand over your smaller fingers. “We are happy,” he says softly, giving your hand a small shake. “I understand where you’re coming from. When we first met, I couldn’t have predicted that I’d be here with you now. I do wonder what people think when they ask me what you do and I tell them you’re a performer. I know we agreed to it, but there are moments where I feel like I’m being cruel to you. But just because there’s a stigma surrounding what you do, it doesn’t mean that you’re any lesser than me. You’re not less intelligent, or less accomplished. We chose different paths and I’m glad we did. If you weren’t a dancer I never would’ve met you.” 

“Do you know how it feels for me to come home to you sometimes?” you ask weakly. 

“I’d hope it feels as it does for me. Every time I see you, I’m relieved.” 

“Aaron, I get this rush of safety, like you’re– I’m finally safe. I can take care of myself, you know that, but now I have you it’s that I don’t even want to. And that’s stupid. I know that that’s stupid.” 

“What I’m thinking,” he says, soft, not as worried about being without you now as he is of the horrible way you’re feeling, “is that you’ve thought about all of this a lot. I’m glad you’ve taken time to reflect on us and your life, but I wish you’d thought more about what we both want.” 

“I want you to be happy,” you argue, as you had a few moments ago. 

“And I’m never happier than when we’re together.” He shrugs. “Love isn’t about work. Your job shapes you as mine shapes me, but you have to know that who you are is what’s important.” 

“I don’t know who I am…” 

“I know exactly who you are,” he says, rubbing a loving thumb over your knuckles. 

“I’m… I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you, on the phone. I knew if I talked to you like this I’d be too much of a coward to really see it through.” 

“I see. You’ve planned my heartbreak weeks in advance.” 

You shake your head sadly. “Aaron, we’re not good for each other. You make me this awful, weak version of me, and I’m no good.” 

“We have been nothing but happy since we met.” Aaron pulls your hand up and kisses the side of your wrist. He isn’t ashamed of you. He doesn’t make you weak, you aren’t. “I don’t know how to explain it. Sometimes it feels like we’re from different worlds, but it’s not that melodramatic. You’re my partner. I love you. It’s hard not to think about what others think of us, but I know exactly what I think of you, and I know what you think of me, too.” 

You share a look. 

“I’ve never heard you talk so much,” you say, your frown fading. “I’m sorry.” 

“You haven’t done anything wrong.” 

“When I thought I couldn’t get any more embarrassing,” you mumble. 

“You aren’t embarrassing. Please, put the thought out of your head.” 

“Thought out of my head,” you repeat, still mumbling as you flex your fingers, pushing them between his and intertwining your hands. You bring them linked to your forehead and take a heavy breath. 

“Do you really want to break up?” he asks softly. 

Your breath warms his arm. “No.” 

“You can have the things you want, you know? I imagine that there are people who laugh when I tell them about you, but you have to know that their opinions would never matter to me.” He pulls his hand from your head to encourage you to meet his eyes. “No one else matters but me and you. We don’t have to factor in other people. We can just be together.” 

“I’m not worth all the fuss,” you say under your breath. 

“What, this fuss? Honey, a few weeks ago you cried in my lap because I got you that cake from the bakery. And you know what? I didn’t want you to cry, but getting to rub your back?” He chances a smile. “That made my night.” 

“You like making girls cry.” 

“Yes,” he says, trying not to grin like a fool as you stand from your chair and put yourself in front of him. He is no saint. He pulls you onto his thighs and wraps an arm around the small of your back, your legs either side of him. “That’s my goal in life, sweetheart.” His voice falls to a whisper as you hang your head against him, tip of your nose to a rough cheek. “Making you cry…” 

Your arms creep to his neck. Resting on him, rather than hugging. He doesn’t mind, he’ll do the hard work. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. 

“It’s okay.” He turns your face with his to press his lips to your cheek. “It’s alright, honey, bumps in the road happen with everyone.” 

“All my fault.” 

“Maybe next time, if you feel so strongly about something, you can just extend me that little bit of faith and… know that I’m here for you. Even if it did mean we wouldn’t be together, it doesn’t have to be that you’re alone, making such a big decision. Valiant,” he adds, enjoying the warmth of you seeping into his shirt, his face, his neck where your wrist is laid against it. “You’re not a coward. But I wish you wouldn’t be this brave about breaking my heart.” 

“Stop making me feel guilty.” 

His laugh is a breath against your cheek. “No, it’s fine, isn’t it? Use me and abuse me.” 

“Shut up. Stop, what is this weird guilt tripping you’re doing?” You laugh at his absurdity. “I’d never abuse you.” 

“I know. Just step on me a bit.” 

“Stop, stop,” you mumble, your voice turning slowly from self-pitying to honey, all that love for him he knew you still had like threads of gold shooting through it, “I don’t wanna step on you, I never would…” 

“Just rough me up a little.” 

“Never.” You press your face to his neck. “Thank you for not letting me do it.” 

“I won’t let you go so easily.” His hand trails up your back, feeling the softness of you beneath your t-shirt. Fat, muscle, all of it familiar, and treasured by his touching. 

He squeezes you rather tightly, then, but you don’t complain, you just sigh. 

“It’s not that you’re not who I picture for myself, like I said before,” you confess, leaning all your weight against him, barely held up by your legs either side of him. “You weren’t, but I didn’t realise that I could have you. I didn’t really know men like you existed. I should’ve known I was looking in the wrong age bracket.” 

“That’s not very nice. In my line of work they call that a feedback sandwich, honey. Something cruel between nice things to distract me.” 

“Sorry. Just had to get it in.” 

He considers your teasing a return to normalcy, guiding your head away from his with a hand to the back of your neck. “If this was a ploy to make me leave work early, consider it successful.” 

“I know your attention usually falls to other places, Mr. Hotchner–” You burst into giggles as he pinches the back of your neck, but it’s only to pull you in for a kiss, smiling against your parted lips as your laughter fades away.

You scrunch his shirt in your hand and kiss him nicely. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“Forgiven.” Even if he did almost go into cardiac arrest at his desk. “I like begging to stay. It builds character.” 

“How long will you be like this?” you ask, shaking your head slowly, your smile poorly hidden. 

You’d needed a reminder, is all. Aaron isn’t solely business and sternness, he’s an idiot, your idiot, who likes to tease you, and doesn’t care who knows that. When he’s working he’s one person, and when he’s with you, he’s another. Both have their qualities and faults, but only one version is the one he needs to be with you. 

“At my age it’s perfectly normal to have a young and beautiful wife,” he says. “You’ve seen some of the other Section’s worker’s wives.” 

“I’m not that young,” you say. 

“So you admit it?” 

You reward him with a tired sigh, cuddling into his collar. 

—

…I'll never be your beast of burden. So let's go home and draw the curtains…

Aaron’s humming from the bedroom. He knows every classic rock song to exist, every word to every Beatles song. When the chorus comes, he sings under his breath, but you can hear him regardless. “Am I rough enough, am I rich enough? I’m not too blind…” he fades off. 

The music hums under your feet. Record player open on the floor, his Some Girls vinyl on the plate. 

You press a hand down your side. 

To inspire less worry on your part, you and Aaron are trying to be more open about the other sides of your lives. His work feels alien to you, and you worry that yours is dirty to him, despite reassurance that a job is a job. You know that already, but you can’t make yourself believe that he’s as happy as he could be if you were, say, a checkout girl. 

You’d make a cute checkout girl, he’d said. 

This is cute, too. Babydoll lingerie with feather edgings, starkly white against your skin. You fluff out the ends and neaten the crotch of your panties. Nothing is on show that shouldn’t be, but it’s still lingerie. It’s meant to excite. 

“Honey,” he says, dulcet tone carrying to the bathroom, “are you stuck again?” 

You laugh. “I bet you hope so.” 

“That’s accusatory in nature.” 

“I’m coming.” You give it a last glance in the mirror and head into the bedroom. 

Aaron’s sat against your headboard, flowery pillowcases behind his head and back. He discards the little figurine he’d been playing with out of boredom and looks you up and down, corners of his lips curling. 

“Home only,” he says. 

“I knew you’d say that.” 

“You look stunning.” His eyes seem darker. All pupil. 

“I have to wear some of these at the club, Aaron, that’s why I bought them.” 

Something in your voice makes him smile. “You said I could veto the ones that are too beautiful.” 

“I said too slutty.” 

“Honey, they’re all revealing in their ways. And I don’t have a problem with it…” He takes a breath. “Much. But some of these are meant for…” 

“The man who loves me?”

“Exactly.” 

He’d said something similar about the light blue set with darker flowers, the black set that showed the curves of your chest, and especially about the pink one-piece with white ribbons. That one gave him pause. 

“Spin?” he asks. 

One day it might bother Aaron that you dance, but for now he’s gently approving. Just wants you to be happy. So you do a little spin without any attempt to be sexy and beam when he whistles. 

“Beautiful. Really, honey, that’s the nicest so far.” 

“I have a confession.” 

“Yeah?” 

“This one was for you.” 

He’d know if you were lying. “For me?” he says, in that tone bordering stern, as much of his professionalism as you’re used to hearing these days. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Don’t,” he says, seductions gone as he tips his head back into a pillow patterned with lavender and peony. “Unless you’re done trying those on, I don’t want to hear it.” 

“This is the last one.” 

“In that case.” He covers his face with a cushion. 

You look down. Your stomach is a little bloated from lunch, and you have a shaving rash on your left knee, but Aaron won’t mind. He never does. Without worry, you tread to the side of the bed and climb onto it, one leg over his lap. The last time you’d been sitting in his lap, you’d been teary-eyed and regretful. Fuck, what was I thinking? you ask yourself, slipping a hand under his rising shirt to feel his abdomen. It’ll never not be weird, the FBI man and his stripper girlfriend, but it doesn’t have to make sense to anyone but him and you. 

You ease the pillow down his face. 

“Are you blushing, Aaron?” you ask. 

“Not purposefully.” 

“You look a little… hot.” 

“That makes two of us.” 

It starts slowly. The heat of you atop him, the pillows moved out of the way. You didn’t expect him to stay unbothered as you paraded your new spoils, but his willpower is remarkable, and he only breaks when you let yourself settle on his lap. His big hand cups your face. 

“That’s funny.” You lift up enough to be in kissing range, but don’t kiss. You just wait for him to react, holding your weight off of his chest. 

He finds the small of your back and drags. Your gasp isn’t your own, a breathy, excited thing as he brings your face to his for a kiss. Your lips almost immediately part in anticipation of his eagerness, of his hand on the back of your neck, and the unflinching heat of his mouth as he turns his head. Your noses brush. He wades in deeper, his own breath already failing him as the bridges of your nose press hard. 

They aren’t rough kisses, but there’s something desperate there. He holds you to him until he can’t, ushering you onto your back, his weight bearing down sudden and steady. 

“I can’t believe I nearly lost you,” he utters, stroking your cheek, edging back in to kiss you before you can reply. 

You wrap an arm behind his back and hike your leg, soft thigh naked and waiting for his touch. You didn’t nearly lose me, you think. To be lost, you’d have to be something worth losing, and you’re not sure you are, but Aaron? 

“I don’t think you could,” you mumble, forcing him to kiss your cheek, your jaw, the line of your throat. He nips at your neck, a shudder racing through you. 

“I have no intent of letting it come that close again, sweetheart.” 

His hand dances up your side to the soft hill of your chest. 

You hold the hair from his face and let him kiss you. He’s here to stay, no matter how odd a pairing you might make. You love him. That’s all he cares about. 

“Want me to do that thing you like?” you offer softly, mildly playful. 

He laughs into your neck. “No,” he says, “I think tonight is about you, hm? You’re all dressed up. I think that deserves a reward.” 

You knew he’d like the white babydoll. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

[citrus-writing]

Hello-hello

In your headcanons, Chrollo is very careful with reader, afraid to scare her away with some thoughtless actions or words. Especially when it comes to intimacy

But could something happen that would make Chrollo just take her by force?

Perhaps something made him very angry or upset, but that wasn’t fault of the reader herself?(He’s a leader of the Troupe after all…)

Will Chrollo blame himself the next day?

Spoilers for the yorknew and succession war arcs! 

Warnings: nsfw, non-con 

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

I imagine there are a few things that could upset Chrollo so deeply he acts impulsively, and when it comes to his darling, the impulse he’s constantly holding himself back from is taking them by force. Because he wants them so badly, and normally he has a great deal of self control, but when his grip on his emotions start to slip, so does his control over his more innate desires when it comes to you.

The deaths of his fellow troupe members hit him hard, harder than he’d like to admit, and as much as he tried to push the despair from his mind, it left him reeling. How someone could be there one moment and then gone the next- of course he’d always know this, but to lose so many so dear to him so fast has him desperate for something to ground him. 

And of course, it’s you. You’re all that he needs, he knows this, he’s always known. Just to hold you close, smell the scent of your hair, feel your soft breath on his skin, listen to the soft beating of your heart. It’d be enough. It’d be more than enough. 

Chrollo wraps his arms around you tight, pulling your back against him as you lay together in his bed. It’s not uncommon to lay like this together, but you can tell something is wrong. His breathing is a little off, and his heartbeat is pounding. 

His hands trace little patterns on your skin, inching over your bare arms and across the fabric of your nightclothes. It’s not like him, to get so handsy with you. It’s so unlike him that you squirm a little, uncomfortable with the advances he’s making. 

“Chrollo-” you whisper, unsure what’s gotten into him and scared of what it could mean. 

“Forgive me, my love.” he whispers against the back of your neck, before pressing an open mouthed kiss against your skin. 

He’s been holding back for so long, wanting you for what seems like an eternity but never able to have you. But tonight he can't resist you, whatever it is that draws him to you is too strong and he cant stop himself from indulging in you. Surely you’ll hate him for this, surely all the progress he’s made will be lost, but he needs you- more than he’s ever needed anything. 

He pins you down beneath him, body caging yours against the bed, and before you can let out a noise of protest his lips are on yours. Gone is the way he normally kisses you; so soft, so sweet. 

The way he normally gently caresses and touches you is gone, replaced with this new side of him, hungry and desperate. 

It’s not that he’s rough with you- even now, he hates the idea of having to hurt you. But if you insist on making this difficult, he won't be able to hold back. But he’d much rather have you willing beneath him. Or, if not willing, then at the very least, not defiant. 

He kisses you again and again, his tongue sliding into your mouth when you try to gasp. His body presses up against yours, hips moving against yours in a desperate attempt for friction. This is what he needs- all of you. And soon enough he can wait no longer; pulling at your clothes to free your body to the night air, delighting in the sight of you finally, finally, bare to him after all this time. 

He knows he’ll hate himself tomorrow, he knows he’ll fall to his knees and beg you for forgiveness, plead for you to give him another chance. But with you beneath him like this, tomorrow seems so far away.

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

[torgerandsuzanne]

Just finished listening to Toto on the Armchair Expert with Dax Shepard. Such a great fun interview. Toto really opens up on a variety of topics. Some highlights:

His childhood: He talks about growing up, his dad being ill, how that affected him and his mom not being present. His mom who is 79 and “not doing well”, told him “I wasn’t a good mother.” He says he told her “I forgive you because I know how hard it was to be at home and see the suffering” 😢

Anxiety about failure: He says that in the years past he was always fearing failure. “Everything could end tomorrow. The racing, the winning, the money—gone. My wife leaves me for the hairdresser.” 😂 (Dax says it’s the personal trainer Susie would have left him for not the hairdresser 🤣) But he says a couple of years ago, he let go of that fear “I realized that I have an amazing relationship with my kids. I have the best wife I can Imagine. I’ve done what I wanted to do. That’s why I have peace if I were dying today” ❤️

Susie’s call during the interview: Toto says his phone is always on silent unless Susie or the kids call. In that case he has a ringtone override. His phone rang during the interview. It was Susie. Dax was yelling “I love you”. Toto passed him the phone and Dax told her “If my wife dies and Toto dies, I am sprinting to you” 😂

The love and respect for Susie: He said if she wanted to grow her career in motorsport he would give up his role as a team principal “She’s such a good manager and entrepreneur. She could do so much more. And I’m saying to her, if you were to have a career in motorsport and you were conflicted with me, I would step out of an executive role” ❤️

She doesn’t like his mirror poses “We have fun at home. When you’re in front of a mirror and you’re doing some stupid posing. Yeah she says that’s really turning me off” 😂

The “model cliche“ discussion with Dax: Toto and Dax talk about the cliche of being with a model. “If a girl stares at her own pictures on the computer, that’s a warning sign for me” 😂 One of his friends got together with a younger lady who then dumped him, Susie told the guy “what did you expect” 🤣

He’s not into fashion: “I’m the most boring fashion guy”

Free diving with George done wrong: He went free diving with George while Netflix crew was there to film. But he ended up bursting his eardrum, and the whole thing fell apart 😅

His go-to drink is vodka, nothing else: 😂 “I don’t drink wine. I don’t drink beer because of gluten. It doesn’t do me well. If I’m drinking alcohol, then it’s full blast vodka. You don’t drink huge amounts and after 20 minutes you’re already having fun. The liquid is not huge and you’re not mixing. So I don’t feel sick. I don’t feel bad the next day. No hangover”

He never got into drugs: He shares a story about trying a “water pipe” with friends when he was 16. Afterward, he went to the subway station and realized he didn’t have his shoes on 😂. But he says he stayed away from the heavier stuff because, “I was always mentally fragile, and I was scared it would leave me in a dark place.”

Lewis gave him his motorcycle as a gift ❤️: He shared a story about Lewis coming over to have dinner with him and Susie in Monaco. He told them to come down, that he needed to show them something and then he told Toto “You’ve done so many great things, and together we’ve accomplished so much. I’ve never given you a gift before so I want you to have this, the #1 bike out of 44 edition series.” (he gave him a MV Agusta Lewis Hamilton edition)

[not-a-lady-irl]

Midnight Studies

Pairing: Lilia Vanrouge x reader Summary: You were up until night studying for Mr. Crewell's test, the most feared of all. You swore no one would notice you were awake, seeing as the storm made it muffle all noise. However, you were wrong. Warnings: terrible writing (indeed) Author's Note: I confess the writing wasn't one of the best but in my defense I was exhausted from sleep while writing lol Words: 1.0K

Heavy rain pounded on Diasomnia's dormitory window. The noise of thunder was an addition to all that storm. It was already a habit for you, much less a problem, you loved these nights when these sudden storms joined you in your studies. They gave you a feeling that you weren't alone.

Studying late at night was not an easy task, but with some exams arriving this effort was necessary. Mr. Crewell's test was the next day and you were having difficulty with a specific subject that you were almost certain would be on the test so because of that subject, you were here, now, at 2 in the morning, sitting at the table in the entrance hall, with all your books, notes, notebooks and pens on it, studying.

Oh, and how you were studying.

You needed to get a good grade on this test to pass, you couldn't disappoint your dorm who were known for excelling in almost every subject and activity at school. You also didn't want to be disappointed, believing that you are a burden.

— I think just a few more questions and I can rest.

If it were any other normal night, without rain and thunder, you would be trying your best not to make noise and indicate that you were awake at those hours, but, thanks to the storm, you believed that you wouldn't need that effort.

You gave your notes another quick read and decided it was time to answer the questions, because what better way to practice a subject than by doing exercises on it?

You read the first question. Pause. Think. Read it again. Pause. Think again. Go back to the beginning and get stressed.

— It's not possible… — A tone of despair escapes your lips.

You place your head in the palm of your hand and rest your arm on the table. The material was right there in front of you, you spent the entire afternoon studying it and now the night trying to understand that subject.

Despair takes over you and as a result you end up deciding to stay up all night.

It would be very bad for you, since you would be awake for more than 24 hours, your sleep would be disrupted, your concentration would be low, your energy would be almost exhausted…

You honestly didn't imagine that this would be a problem for both the prefect and the vice prefect of Diasomnia, as you were studying precisely to help the dormitory's reputation! It felt like you were doing it more for them than for you.

— Well, then I think... from the beginning….

Before you could pick up the book again to read, a voice came from behind you.

— How long do you intend to stay up to study?

The voice takes you by surprise. You didn't believe that someone would be awake at that moment to realize that you hadn't gone to bed yet. When you turn back, you found Lilia looking at you with an expression of concern and reprimand.

— It's bad to stay up this late at night, I can't believe you didn't know that. — His voice comes out strict.

He was the last person you imagined would catch you awake.

Nervous, you try to explain yourself and lie saying that you were already leaving.

— I was just reviewing content Lilia, I swear I was going to bed right away! — You give a smile trying to affirm your excuse.

Lilia just stares at you. Obviously he wouldn't go down that easily.

— Since that's the case, I'll remain here until your quick review is over and you go to your room to sleep. — He comes over and sits in the chair next to you — You have five minutes — His lips form an amused smile.

You didn’t know if he was having fun with you or the fake situation you created. Maybe both, who knows.

But now you had no option but to "revise" in five minutes.

You put down the book and pick up your class notes again and read them, still not understanding most of the things that were there.

Time passed and when you least expected it, the brief five minutes had already ended.

— That's it! Time to sleep. — He gets up and pulls you by the hand, taking you to your room.

The weight of not doing well on Mr. Crewell's test made you explain your situation to Lilia, hoping that he would understand and just let you stay awake that night.

— Lilia… please, I can't sleep now. — He stops pulling you and looks at you — Mr. Crewell's test is tomorrow and I haven't managed to understand a specific subject yet… I don't want to do badly and ruin the reputation that my dorm has because of me — The outburst comes out and you anxiously await Lilia's reaction

But all you get is a laugh.

— Do you really think we would lose our reputation because of a test? — He lets go of your hand and approaches you.

— Y/N, the happiness and health of our students is much more important to us. You don't need to try so hard because of this, although I can't deny that it makes me happy to see such a dedicated student at Diasomnia! — He lets out another chuckle.

— But…. Lilia…. — You try to defend yourself again but are interrupted by him pulling you back to your room.

— No more excuses! Time to sleep.

You are led until you stop in front of your room, Lilia patiently waiting to see you enter to confirm to himself that you have indeed gone to sleep.

You let out a sigh and finally enter.

— Good night Lilia. — You say goodbye to him and close the door.

— Sweet dreams, Y/N — Lilia walks calmly towards his room. — I think I should be more careful in case she spends more nights awake....

You couldn't deny it, Lilia's words and the fact that he forced you to go to sleep helped you have a good night's sleep without any worries.

And honestly, it's a good thing he told you to go to sleep, because the test had been canceled thanks to the heavy rain the night before.

[rose24207]

Unseen tears

Summary: A mother struggles with emotional isolation and her distant family until her husband finally steps in to confront their children and begin mending their fractured bonds.

Genre: Mafia!Dad!Lando, angst, (fluff)

TW: Mafia

A/N: Amelia is 15 and Jacob is 13 and basically everyone is being a bitch… yeah anyways. English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome (fr request something pls (I sound like a desperate ex))

Masterlist

The large estate was filled with the sound of clinking glasses and soft chatter. It was the kind of evening where everything seemed in its place—elegant, calm, and polished.

But beneath the surface of the pristine home, the tension was palpable. You had hoped it wouldn’t last, that the rift between you and the kids would heal over time, but you could feel it worsening.

Every day, it was becoming harder to put on a smile and pretend like everything was okay.

Amelia and Jacob, once so close to you, had become distant, angry. They were growing up, yes, but the way they acted now—so dismissive, so cold—was not the way you had imagined it. They were becoming more and more like strangers, and it hurt, deep down.

But what hurt even more was the silence that had come between you and Lando.

Despite everything going on, he hadn’t noticed. He couldn’t see it—the way you cried yourself to sleep every night, the constant knot in your stomach, the ache that lingered from the words they threw at you.

To him, the house was running smoothly, business as usual. He didn’t know the weight you carried every day.

"Mom, you're being ridiculous," Amelia had snapped at you earlier that afternoon. Her voice, normally filled with playful sarcasm, was now laced with anger. "Why do you always act like everything’s falling apart when it's not? Just stop being so overdramatic."

Jacob, standing next to her, didn’t even bother to glance your way. He was busy on his phone, his fingers tapping mindlessly on the screen. The look on his face—a mix of disinterest and frustration—cut deeper than any sharp words ever could.

Why wasn’t he even listening?

But you didn’t react.

You’d learned, over the past few weeks, that it was easier to keep the peace by saying nothing. Easier to take the insults and pretend they didn’t sting.

That night, after dinner, you went up to your room earlier than usual.

You didn’t want to argue anymore.

You didn’t want to face the cold glares and the harsh words.

The sound of the door closing behind you should have brought relief, but instead, it felt suffocating. The room, while large and filled with luxury, felt like a prison. Alone. Isolated.

Lando hadn’t even looked your way tonight, his focus on the kids and the staff, making sure everything was perfect, as usual.

He didn’t know you were fighting tears, again.

You sat on the bed, letting the weight of it all hit you. You’d tried so hard—always doing your best, always putting the kids first, making sure Lando’s life and work were smooth and effortless.

But it never seemed to be enough.

The tears fell freely now.

Quietly.

The sobs wracked your body, but you made no sound. There was no one here to comfort you. Lando was out of the house, probably in his office, and the kids were still running on their own schedules.

You were alone in your sorrow.

The next morning, you were still struggling to hide the redness of your eyes. The servants and staff walked around the house quietly, careful not to disturb the uneasy atmosphere that had taken root.

You’d spent the night awake, your heart still aching, and now you were just going through the motions.

When Lando came into the kitchen, he didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong. His usual cocky grin was in place, and he kissed your cheek casually, as if everything was fine.

“Morning, love. How’s everything today?”

His words were like a slap to your face.

How could he ask that when everything felt like it was falling apart?

You forced a smile, wiping your eyes before you responded. “Good, just—just a little tired, that’s all.”

Lando didn’t notice the exhaustion in your voice. He didn’t see the faint tremble of your hands. His focus was on getting ready for the day.

"Right. Well, I’ll see you later then. I have some meetings and... we’ll catch up tonight?"

You nodded, though you knew the “catching up” would never happen.

It never did anymore.

As the day wore on, Amelia and Jacob continued to shut you out. Amelia was particularly icy, her words sharp and cruel.

“It’s not like you can do anything right, anyway,” she said during lunch, her tone dripping with contempt.

Jacob wasn’t much better.

Whenever you tried to talk to him, he ignored you or gave half-hearted answers, his mind preoccupied with his phone or whatever else he found more important.

You tried to speak to Lando about it that evening, but he was distracted again, caught up in his own world.

“Can we just sit and talk for a second?” you asked, your voice tired and strained.

Lando looked up, sensing the urgency in your tone. But instead of offering comfort, he simply sighed. “Not now, (Y/N). I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, and the kids—”

“They don’t listen to me anymore,” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “I can’t do this alone, Lando. I’m trying, but they’re pushing me away.”

Lando’s eyes softened for a moment, but he quickly brushed it off. “Don’t make it about me. I’m doing the best I can. The kids will grow out of this phase.”

But you knew better.

This wasn’t just a phase.

You had watched your children change, seen the way they grew colder, more resentful, and you didn’t know how to fix it.

You had tried everything.

Later that evening, it happened again.

Amelia and Jacob’s insults had been building all day, each one more hurtful than the last. But you had tried to stay calm, tried to understand that they were only struggling to find themselves.

But that night, when you were sitting in the family room, watching the kids laugh at something on TV, it hit you—the sudden realization that you were invisible.

It felt like they didn’t care at all.

That they didn’t want you to be a part of their lives anymore.

You stood up, silently, and slipped away to your room. The tears came fast again, spilling down your cheeks as you tried to stifle your sobs.

It wasn’t long before Lando came looking for you. He knocked gently on the door.

“(Y/N)?” he called, his voice softer than before. “Are you okay?”

You couldn’t respond, couldn’t find the words to explain the ache that had been growing inside of you. Instead, you turned your back to the door, wiping your tears quickly.

The door creaked open. “(Y/N), look at me.”

Reluctantly, you turned around, meeting Lando’s gaze. His eyes widened at the sight of you—at the tear-streaked face and the redness of your eyes.

For the first time, he saw the pain you had been hiding.

“What’s going on?” he asked quietly, stepping into the room. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You couldn’t speak.

You felt too raw, too exposed.

But Lando, noticing the silent answer in your expression, immediately understood.

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

He stormed out of the room, heading straight to the living room where the kids were lounging.

“Amelia. Jacob,” he said, his voice loud and commanding. The force of his presence made them both jump.

“What’s wrong with you two?” he snapped, his anger rising. “Why are you treating your mother like this?”

They exchanged nervous glances, clearly not prepared for this confrontation.

“Dad—” Amelia began, but Lando silenced her with a harsh gesture.

“No. Don’t speak. I’ve been blind to what’s been going on, but I’m not anymore. You two are spoiled, entitled and ungrateful. Your mother has done everything for this family, and yet you treat her like she’s invisible. Like she’s nothing.”

Jacob shifted uncomfortably, but didn’t speak.

Lando’s eyes flared with fury. “You will not disrespect her again. Do you hear me? I’ve been far too lenient with you both. From now on, you will both lose privileges. No more going out with friends until you understand the weight of what you’ve done. No more free reign in this house. No more devices for you. You want respect? You’ll earn it.”

Amelia opened her mouth to protest, but Lando shot her a warning look.

“Enough,” he said. “I don’t want to hear another word. Get upstairs. And don’t think I won’t follow through.”

Both kids stood up slowly, their faces a mixture of surprise and shame. As they left the room, Lando’s shoulders sagged with exhaustion.

He turned back to you. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I failed you.”

You shook your head, unable to hold back the tears anymore. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to be the bad guy. I just wanted to help them.”

Lando pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his voice softer now. “I’ll make it right. I won’t let them treat you like this anymore.”

The days that followed were filled with apologies from the kids, awkward but heartfelt.

They knew they had messed up, and while it didn’t immediately heal the hurt, it was a start. Slowly, things began to improve in the household.

Lando kept a watchful eye on everything, making sure to include you in the family decisions more than ever before.

And at night, when the house was quiet and the kids had gone to sleep, Lando would sit with you, wrapping his arms around you, reminding you that you weren’t alone.

“I’m sorry,” he would whisper, his voice filled with guilt. “I should have seen it sooner. I should have protected you.”

You just rested your head on his chest, letting the comfort of his embrace soothe you. Things weren’t perfect, but for the first time in a long time, it felt like they could be.

And for the first time, Lando was truly listening.

Thank you for reading!

[itsnathateasy]

aot characters reacting to “i read about us in tarot”

warnings: none word count: 3,1k includes: armin, jean, connie, hange, mikasa, erwin a/n: sometimes, all you need is a confirmation from the universe, right?

“Pass me the sugar, please?” Armin asked in his polite tone. This was your third date with him and your bond and chemistry kept getting better and better. “Here you go! So, what were you saying about that new theatre show?” you questioned as you handed him the sugar bowl. He added two table spoons of sugar in his tea, stirring it thoroughly while maintaining eye contact with you. “I almost forgot! It’s an adaptation of the little prince but with dancing! Should be so much fun! Do you maybe wanna go with me?” you couldn’t keep your smile from spreading across your face as Armin suggested that you go on one more date. “Sounds great actually! I’d love to go!” you said, extending your hand to connect it with his over the table. Armin returned the gesture, softly rubbing circles with his thumb on your outer palm. “You know, it’s so weird. We’ve known each other for ages, yet I never imagined we’d be getting along so well together romantically, you know?” he admitted with a small, almost shy smile. “Okay, don’t mock me, but I kind of had a sign...” you said awkwardly. “What kind of a sign?” he arched his eyebrow at you, now holding your palm in both of his as you giggled with the confession you were about to make. “You know how Historia reads tarot?” if Armin could arch his eyebrow any more, he definitely would. “Do go on” he said in an intrigued voice. “Well, she read that there’s a fair man in my life – this was just after our first date – and she found out that he is very interested in me but it’d be more and more obvious as time progresses” you trailed off with your recollections of the tarot reading, patiently waiting for Armin’s reaction. Armin huffed in fake annoyance. “Well, that checks out. Historia kept mentioning that “fair man” that was oh so interested in you, I had to ask you out on a second date as soon as possible! Couldn’t risk it!” You laughed in unison, finding it cute how your mutual friend had read about the two of you in a deck of cards. After a while, Armin returned to the topic. “Hey, y/n… Had you ever told Historia about crushing on me?” You were taken aback. “Of course! Historia knew about you from the start. What’s wrong with that?” Armin’s eyebrows were furrowed. “Nothing wrong, just thinking. Cause I’d told her about crushing on you too...” “You’re not insinuating she planned this?” You asked, surprised that you’d ever come to such a conclusion. “Insinuating, no. I’m blatantly stating it. The little lady set us up!” (“Are you upset Historia set us up?” “Honestly, this was the best thing she’s ever done, y/n” he said and kissed your temple.)

Jean doesn’t believe in tarot and he’s made it his life mission to convince you as well. To him, it was a shame that an educated and well-informed person as you would ever resort to reading tarot. “What’s wrong with it, Jean? Even if it isn’t true – which it very much is – haven’t you read about all the cognitive benefits of picking up such a hobby? Can you even imagine the amount of brand new synaspes my brain is creating?” He simply looked back at you, one eyebrow raised, refraining from responding. “It means I’m actively getting smarter and all you do is talk down on my new skill. Will you let me practice on you now or are you going to keep on glooming about getting your cards read?” You said, only half annoyed. “Fine, y/n… Do go on. I want my cards read” you giggled at his surrender. As you were turning upwards the cards he’d picked out, Jean was observing you, your swift movements, how your irises grew wider with each symbol you recognised. “You’ve been dealt quite the cards Jean. Let me check the manual once more” you said, shuffling through the pages. “Still haven’t got the hang of it? What about your synapses?” He said and chuckled at you, still not averting his gaze from you. “With these many cards, it’ll take me a while… Look, you’ve got the lovers. A deep connection and unity between two people… And the two of cups! Mutual love and – possibly – soulmates? Whoa Jean! I’m assuming you’ve confessed to Mikasa, right?” You noticed how his face changed into the most surprised expression you’d ever seen. Furrowing his eyebrows, he opened his mouth once to speak, but said nothing. After a few seconds, while you were trying your hardest to read his face, he finally spoke again. “Uhm, y/n, why would I confess to Mikasa? I’ve literally nothing to say to her, except for maybe small talk at parties.” It was now your turn to be surprised by his response. “You’re not for real, Jean. Everybody knows you like her! The cards said so too!” You said and motioned to the spread cards laying between the both of you on the table. “Y/n...” he said and rubbed his hand all over his face, finally resting it in a fist on his chin, partially covering his mouth. “You’ve got this whole thing wrong, y/n” “How have I got it wrong? You’ve asked her out in the past and she rejected you?” Jean was facepalming so hard at your question. After taking a breath or two, he finally sat up properly and faced you, body completely aligned with yours. “Y/n, all these cards I pulled... Not a single one of them is referring to Mikasa. And this one – the two of cups, was it? - I was about to ask you out. That’s the new relationship, hopefully.” He said as he pointed at the vibrant card in front of him. “I was just… Waiting for the right moment… Didn’t wanna blurt it all out of nowhere… It sucks that you think that this whole time I’ve had my eye on Mikasa, cause it’s far from the truth.” Jean’s confession was unexpected, but more than welcome. “Jean… Honestly PHEW!” You said in a loud voice, sweeping invisible sweat from your forehead with a dramatic move. “Phew as in…?” He questioned, not quite catching your drift yet. “Phew because… I’ve had MY eye on you for who knows how long… I never initiated anything cause I thought you had things going on with Mikasa. I’m relieved to find out this isn’t the case.” You looked over at him, a serene smile was plastered on his face, his hand extending to reach yours. “So… Wanna go out some time?”

“Shouldn’t have done that, y/n sweetheart” Connie said as he laid his reverse card on the pile between you on the couch. “Ugh, how come you always get me so bad? Uno’s supposed to be my turf...” you exhaled, disappointed by the fact that you had to draw more cards. “And with this” Connie said playing one more card “I’m out! I’ve officially defeated your sorry ass!” Connie celebrated his victory by triumphantly marching all around your coffee table, hands in the air. “I can never catch a break with you” you protested, letting your weight fall on the back of the couch. Connie noticed how you were not celebrating along with him (his audacity is immeasurable) and quit his marching to crouch next to you. “Hey, hey… No need to feel sad. It’s a compliment to have the best uno player as your boyfriend!” he explained, softly poking your cheek with his index finger over and over again. “Cut it out!” you yelled, laughing at him while trying to push his hand away. “And… Consider this: Whoever loses in card games, wins in love. Isn’t this what they say?” He questioned, waiting for your response as he was now poking your belly with both of his indexes. “Speaking of which” you said in between fits of laughter, attempting to escape him by moving further away on the couch. “I think I read about you in tarot, but like… A few weeks before we started dating”. Thankfully, your statement intrigued him enough to get him to stop his relentless poking. “Seriously? Had we met yet?” “No, not yet. It was a few weeks before Sasha introduced me to you. But I’d seen photos of you so I don’t know, I may’ve been biased by your cute face!” You said and gave him a bright smile, but Connie only stood up from his spot to scream at the top of his lungs “NO SHIT BECAUSE I READ ABOUT YOU TOO!”. You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. “What are you talking about, Connie?” “Okay, listen” he said and sat back next to you again. “The week before we met, I was so tired of Jean and Sasha bugging me about not wanting to meet any of Sasha’s friends – I didn’t know about you yet, I’m sorry babe – and so we all went to this fortune teller, who told us all about you and our date and, wait, REMEMBER WHEN YOU SPRAINED YOUR ANKLE ON THE WAY HOME FROM OUR FIRST DATE? SHE’D TOLD US ABOUT THAT AS WELL AND THEN I TOLD JEAN AND SASHA AND THEY SAID I’D MADE IT UP AND DIDN’T BELIEVE ME UNTIL MOVIE NIGHT A FEW DAYS LATER AND-” “CONNIE CALM DOWN!” You half yelled, while giggling the entire time. “Please, take a breath, you’re giving me a headache!” Eventually, he did calm down, and sat on top of you. “So… Reckon we were meant to be?” he snuggled his face closer to yours, sneaking small pecks here and there. “No, you were meant to be and I was meant to keep losing to you in card games!” You exclaimed in fake annoyance. “NOW YOU DON’T MEAN THAT Y/N!”

“And what do you think this means, Hange?” you questioned the brunette as they drew one more card out of the deck. “Wait, let me check… I’m still new to this tarot thing...” As they browsed through the deck manual, the corner of their tongue was pursed between their lips. “So, y/n, you got the hanged man… Or woman… This deck assumes everyone’s gender I guess...” “Hange… You’re trailing off” you said and giggled as they returned your gaze. “I’m just saying, y/n. You can’t just assume people’s gender or their sexuality, it’s not right”. They looked kind of disappointed as their eyes skimmed the page referring to the hanged man. “I know Hange, but I came here so you could practice tarot, remember?” “Alright, alright” they surrendered. “So, as I was saying, the hanged PERSON” - you couldn’t hold back your giggle – is all all about sacrifice, new perspectives... waiting for the right time… But that’s boring y/n… I suggest that you screw the right time, and go for it instead. And as the great Herman Melville said “He who hesitates is lost”. Or she. OR THEY!” Hange threw their hands up in frustration, letting the manual off of their hands. “Are you quoting Herman Melville or Lemony Snicket? You’re confusing me!” You both laughed at your comment, Hange touching her stomach in an attempt to contain themselves. “Either way, y/n… You know, tarot is really fun, but more often than not, waiting for the right time is pointless. The right time never comes and one’s never ready. I don’t know what this stalling refers to in your life, but it kept coming up in your reading. If there’s a situation where you need to take action, just do it. And when you do, call me up so you can spill the tea, you know?” Hange stretched their palms on the table, collecting the cards you’d both pulled out of the deck and tidying them into a neat brick, before enclosing the deck in its colourful paper box again. Once they’d put everything away, your mind was made up. “Okay Hange. So, enough with the stalling, right?” “It’s the best advice I can come up with, y/n. And as your only and BEST fortune-teller slash advisor slash best friend, I do suggest you act upon… Whatever you need to act upon.” They said as they put the deck back into their bag. “Okay, listen” you said and inhaled deeply. “Y/n… Is something wrong?” “No, no, just… Listen, okay? Don’t ask me how I know but I know you like me and I like you too and do you wanna go on a date sometime?” You blurted in a single breath as Hange was left frozen opposite you on the table. “I can’t believe Levi spilled the beans, oh he’s in for a real treat!” they said, clenching their fists. “Is that a yes or a no, Hange?” You insisted, eyes steadily focused on them, pulling them back to reality. “It’s a yes, y/n, of course it’s a yes. Can the date be punch-a-bag? Cause Levi’s asking for a beating!” “Okay, but wear something nice? I’ve made reservations at a restaurant” you explained while getting up to make your leave. “How did you know I was gonna say yes? And where are you going?” “Gotta warn Levi! See ya!” you waved goodbye and made your way out before Hange could stop you.

“Please tell me this is a joke, y/n” Mikasa sighed as she averted her gaze from your phone screen to you. She’d already had enough of your teasing today and you trying to explain how your friend Historia had predicted Mikasa and you would end up together was the final drop. “You never take me seriously, Mikasa… This reading was so OBVIOUSLY about you, I HAD to film it for this exact occasion! Just listen to how Historia mentions that “Mikasa will never believe this, even if you show her after it happens”… You can’t tell me the reading isn’t accurate!” You pouted, hoping that Mikasa would come around and admit to your friend’s tarot reading skills. “It doesn’t matter if it’s accurate, y/n, cause it’s not real! You can’t be serious about basing our entire relationship on a deck of fancy cards?” You taken aback by her comment and felt like your hurt showed. The reading Historia had given you all those months ago was what fuelled you to - finally - ask Mikasa out. “Hey, y/n, I… I didn’t mean to upset you...” She reached for your arm, but you pulled away. Collecting your thoughts as best as you could, you eventually managed to speak. “Those fancy cards gave me the confirmation I needed to pursue you at the time. You were always so distant, I never knew what you were thinking. But everything that Historia told me, gave me the boost to ask you out...” You sneaked a peek at Mikasa, who was now also wearing her mouth upside down and lingering akwardly back and forth. “Besides, you said it yourself. You never wanted to cause trouble in our friend group and had no intention of asking me out, even though you liked me. So, yeah, those fancy cards were a big deal. And the video you wasted so much time shitting on was the match that started the fire. Blame me for believing in the occult I guess, but don’t say our entire relationship has been based on a lie, cause it was that “lie” that started it all...” Mikasa waited, unsure of how to respond to your speech. “The only right thing to say is I’m sorry, y/n. I was insensitive. This was clearly important to you… Can we conclude this fight now and watch the rest of the video? I think Historia was about to explain something I’d do on our first date” She trailed off shyly. Your lips perked up just a tiny bit, and that was all the answer Mikasa needed as you scooted closer to her on the couch. As she wrapped her arm around you she spoke again. “Actually, y/n, play it from the start. I should pay proper attention to the reading this time!”

Folding his paper in half and softly laying it on the kitchen table was your cue that you were in trouble. “You did… What exactly? I didn’t quite catch that, y/n” Your breath hitched as you moved further from the sink and closer to him. His look was as serious as ever, arms folded on his chest, unmoving. “It wasn’t even too expensive, Erwin! Come on, don’t dwell on the past! It’s long gone now!” You tried to make a plausible excuse for yourself, but to no avail. “Uh uh, that’s not what you said. You said you spent a hundred dollars on a tarot reading, because you weren’t sure I’d propose.” He gave you a serious look, pinching his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose. “How could you not be certain? Have I ever let you doubt my intentions towards you, y/n?” Damn, this was going to end badly, you could feel his anger brewing. “You don’t understand, Historia is a genius! She even predicted we’d have a daughter before I knew it! How did you think I knew to buy a pregnancy test on our holiday?” The way his eyes grew wider at this confession was a sight, to say the least. “Uhm, your period skipping two months maybe?” “ERWIN!! It was summer time! That... Can happen... From time to time!” “I’m gonna hold your hand as I say this, y/n, but, at the time, we were having unprotected sex for a least three months because we were consciously trying for a baby.” He gave you one more of his serious glares, tilting his head a bit forward. “I’m just a girl, Erwin! You can’t blame me for wanting to make sure!” You explained as you crossed the distance between you and sat on his lap. Maybe this would prevent him getting too mad at you. He exhaled deeply as he stared at you between his arms. You knew he was judging you so much by the stern look on his face. Unfolding his paper and resuming his reading, he continued. “It’s a good thing you didn’t charge it on my card... If I saw those withdrawals without a single warning, I’d have called the bank to pause the card.” He flattened the paper with a shaking sound. You fidgeted with your fingers without realising it, but Erwin caught the gesture. “Y/n… You didn’t...” “I’M JUST A GIRL ERWIN! And a girl needs to know!”

[allisluv]

hihi! this is my first time ever writing an ask thingy bc i don’t know how tumblr works but,,,anyway (feel free to laugh at me if im doing this wrong 😭)

imagine modern!finnick with an s/o who just got their wisdom teeth out (not saying this bc i just got mine out what…) imagine him trying not to laugh when he reads the attempts at text messages that his s/o sent right after surgery and calling them to make sure their okay. he shows up to their house to make sure their okay and comforts them through the pain. he doesn’t laugh at how puffy their face is or the mindless babble they come up with, he just holds them and spoon feeds them the soft food their allowed to eat <3

would you still love me if i was a worm?

pairing: finnick o'dair x fem!reader

content warnings: established relationship, use of pet names, reader has just had her wisdom teeth out, fluff, set in a modern!au <3

a/n: i'm so sorry it took me literal months to get around to this lovely! i hope you're feeling better and your wisdom teeth didn't cause a lot of pain! you requested just right, nonnie, feel free to send it any other requests you have and i'll try not to make you wait as long this time around lol <3

wc: 887

Finnick kills the engine outside of your house and grabs his phone from the passenger seat. The screen continues to light up with unintelligible text messages and he can’t help but laugh to himself. He knows for a fact that youre okay, mainly because he rang to check on you before he left his house, otherwise he would be panicking at the string of confusing messages. 

His hands are overflowing with supplies as he pushes open the front door with his hip. He doesn’t bother to knock; you already know he’s coming. “Honey, it’s just me!” He announces, setting a tub of ice-cream on the marble countertop in the kitchen. 

He frowns when he sees you, and you open your arms for him to give you a hug. “Oh, my baby,” he murmurs, crawling across the sofa and pulling you into his lap so you’re straddling his hips. You rest your face against his chest and he runs a hand through your hair, smoothing it out of your face. “Oh, baby, how are you feeling?” 

“Ouch,” you mumble, nuzzling your face into the fabric of his shirt and wincing when a spark of pain shoots up through your mouth. “Hurts,” you say softly. 

“I know, angel, I know, that’s because you’re coming off of the anaesthetic.” He coos, smoothing his hand up and down the length of your back. You mumble something a bit incoherent that he doesn’t quite catch and he presses a kiss into your hair. “What’re you saying, darling?” 

“Stay,” you mumble, clinging to the back of his shirt as tears spill out over your waterline. 

Finnick’s heart just about cracks in two in his chest at the sight of you crying. “Oh, honey, I know it hurts, but I’m not going anywhere. I’m gonna stay right here until you are all better. I’m gonna take care of you, yeah?” 

You nod against his chest as he shifts positions so that you’re cuddled into his side. He rests his chin atop your head and peppers your temple with soft kisses. 

Blindly, he reaches out for the remote control and you whine at the loss of contact, no matter how small. He thins out his lips to stop himself from chuckling. With the drug-induced state you’re in, he assumes you would only take it as him making fun of you, so instead, he says, “I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’m just gonna turn on The Wizard of Oz. I know that’s your favourite. How does that sound?” 

You huff at his explanation, registering somewhere in your mind that he’s telling the truth, but still wanting to be stubborn nonetheless, but in saying that, it’s hard not to melt when he’s being so damn nice to you. In fact, hes being so damn nice that it sends you into another wave of hysterical sobbing. 

Finnick doesn’t berate you for crying or try to figure out what’s wrong; he knows you’re feeling frustrated and in pain. He won’t get a straight answer out of you with the state you’re in, anyway, so he just pulls you closer to him and presses play on the recording of The Wizard of Oz. 

Once you’ve calmed down and your body has stopped shaking with sobs, he coaxes you into laying your head in his lap. You mumble something stubbornly but after a bit of gentle coaxing, he manages to get you to lie down. 

You drift in and out of consciousness as he threads his fingers through your soft locks of hair. He hums when you mutter something about the movie, agreeing with you despite the fact that he has not got a clue what you are talking about. 

As the end credits start to roll, you seem to sense that the movie’s over and straighten up, rubbing your knuckles in to your eyes to rid them of sleep. 

Finnick chuckles under his breath. You glare at him, but there’s no mirth behind it. Your eyes spin around to the big tub of Ben and Jerry’s ice-cream on the countertop and you head straight for it, with your boyfriend hot on your heels. 

Finnick grabs a bowl from the cupboard as you search for a spoon, but by the time he turns back around, you’ve already started scooping the ice-cream straight from the tub into your mouth. He laughs, shaking his head fondly as he takes you by the hand and coaxes you to sit back down on the sofa. 

Your coordination is still a bit off, both from the pain and the medication, and you keep missing your mouth. Finnick gently takes the spoon out of your hand and starts to feed you, smiling softly when you insist that you’re not a baby (---- well, at least that’s what he thinks you’ve said; it’s still quite hard to understand you), 

Regardless of your protests, your hunger wins, and you let him feed you. You flick through the channels before settling on a rerun of Pop Idol, and once half the tub is gone and you’ve had enough, he sets it on the coffee table and pulls you back into his arms. 

“Finn?” You mumble, slightly more coherent now. 

“Yes, angel?” He kisses your forehead. 

“Would you love me if I was a worm?” 

Finnick stifles a laugh into your hair.

[hypnoprincesslottie]

off topic, serious post...sorry to get into this! i hope it doesn't ruin my image for anyone 😔 but i gotta vent about this and this is my attempt to make sure this never happens again...

PLEASE DO NOT DM ME ABOUT SUPER HARD KINKS!!! they are really not for me! i'm not interested in cnc. i do not want to hear about someone fantasizing about assaulting or abusing me. i cannot even possibly imagine why anyone would think i want that because i'm not even a sub and i have hard kinks displayed in my limits... i will never, ever shame others for their kinks and i have experimented with it in the past and come to the conclusion it is just NOT FOR ME. this has made me very upset and probably ruined my mood for at least a day and then i was made to feel like i'm doing something wrong. we all have our own limits, please respect mine... i do not have an easy time putting my foot down in these kinds of situations and i don't ever wanna be put in a spot like this again so pls !!! get consent prior to discussing these kinds of fantasies with a new person!

i tried very hard to be nice here and this really icked me out unbelievably bad... i feel totally disrespected :( so this is my first and hopefully only ever PSA about this kind of thing... i'm gonna rb this w/ screenshots for context of what made me feel the need to post this just give me a minute to gather them, tysm.

[smiley-mcdoggington]

Part 2 to this kinda because it kinda left with an implied ending but this one is a good ending ANYWAYS TW SUICIDAL TW STANCEST--

"You deserve a reward, Fordsy." Bill crooned while he moved his pawn forward - Albin Countergambit, damn. The sting of being out-maneuvered didn't gloss over Bill's words, though.

"A reward? I couldn't possibly request a reward when you've done so much for me, my Muse." He said, though the words were empty. His posture had straightened politely and he waited for Bill to argue.

"No, you deserve it." Bill argued, and a curl of satisfaction warmed him. "You solved that equation so quickly, sped up construction on the portal by weeks on your planetary measure. Your mind is doing wonders with me here, I love to see it." His voice dipped a little. "Watching all those neurons firing, you're a piece of art, Sixer." He purred.

Ford blushed. Bill knew what that nickname did to him. "Thank you, my Muse... " He said, hot under the collar and voice maybe a pitch lower than before.

"Don't you wanna hear your reward, Sixer? I hope you don't think I'd cheap out by only giving you well-deserved praise." His heavy eyelashes cut into his pupils. He knew what he was doing.

Ford cleared his throat. "Of course not, my Muse, I wo-would never think of you as cheap." He cursed the slip and quickly tried to refocus on their game - his king was open. Ford moved his knight. "Check." He could imagine what rewards his Muse would have for him - turning every nerve in his body into an erogenous zone, using that sinfully large tongue, going until Ford cried from it--

"All good ideas, Fordsy." Bill knocked over his king with a flick of his fingers, before melting all the pieces into a puddle on the table. "But I've done something different. You know your phone problem?"

Ford's fingers itched for his journal and in the dreamscape a journal appeared. "The ghost haunting my phone? You've found it?"

"No, not a ghost yet, give him a minute." He joked - probably joked. "Really, Braniac, sometimes of all the answers it really is the simplest one. The silent phonecalls weren't any weirdness, they were just your inferior copy."

"Stanley?" Ford blurted. "Why would he be..." Ford had been getting those silent phonecalls since college at least, why would he never say anything? Why would he always call? He felt a flicker of annoyance that it wasn't even an anomaly.

"I know, I know that little mystery had been distracting you, so I even dealt with it for you. No more late-night phonecalls dragging you away, you can even rip the page about them from your journal."

Unease sank into Ford's mind. What had Bill said to make Stanley stop calling? He can't have simply asked, Stan was far too stubborn. Had he threatened Stan?

Had he used Ford's voice?

Dread simmered like nausea. "How, might I ask, did you convince him to him to leave me be?"

"No way but with the truth - Scout's honor. Aren't you happy, Sixer?" Suddenly Stan's old name for him sounded wrong coming from Bill. "I took care of him, he couldn't bother you again if he wanted to. You deserved it, for being so good." His praises sounded like the ones you'd give a child. Ford's stomach twisted.

"Would you show me, Bill?" He asked tightly.

Bill sighed and snapped his fingers. The puddle on the table between them turned clear.

Stanley was sitting in a car on the other side. A gun in his hand shaking minutely. The safety was off, but the gun wasn't turned outward against a threat.

He clicked the chamber out of place and span it before clicking it back into place.

He lifted it until the nozzle buried into his overgrown hair. Ford screamed when his finger flexed - one-in-six odds, 16.666...% chance he never saw his brother again because Bill used his voice to say something so terrible it made him - made him--

The gun clicked uselessly and Ford sobbed. Then Stan drew back the hammer again. One-in-five, 20%, the mindscape around him trembled in his panic, and then his view was taken, back to the puddle of black and white that remained of their game of chess.

"Take it easy, Sixer, you're starting to make me think you're ungrateful."

Ford's eyes snapped to Bill to the - the monster.

He needed to get out. His mind, once a vast expance, folded and curled inwards, stars burning out, glass shattering, the longer he stayed here with Bill the more time passed between hammer pulls, his brain counted up percentages for the chance that Stan was dead and Bill had the gall to call Ford ungrateful? Had the audacity to use Stan's name for him when he'd--

"I don't know what you're trying to pull here, Sixer, but your brother's gone. What's the difference if he's dead or not?"

Ford lunged over the table at him while the sky imploded.

The next second he was snapping awake - on the floor, a fork in his hand just within reach of his old rotary phone. He scrambled to his feet, hand on the receiver and bloody, shaking hand dragging the dial, trying to will the damn thing to roll back faster as he slowly dragged out '*69'.

The phone rang.

And rang.

"Come on Stanley - come on - you've gotta be close to a phone." His voice warbled into the large, empty house. "Come on, Stanley." He pleaded. And then, the ringing cut.

"Stanley?!"

The line was quiet - not dead, but quiet.

"Please - Stanley just say something." He sobbed.

"What the fuck do you want from me, Stanford?" His voice was rougher than he remembered, haggard and worn in a way Ford had never imagined it.

He could have said a million things, words clammered for first in his throat but all he could blurt was "Come home, damn it!"

The line was silent long after he'd spoken, his mind scrambling for anything to say - Stanley was always the one that knew what to say while he scrambled to speak at all. Then Stanley spoke again. "First you tell me I'm not worth the time it takes to hang up, now you're acting like I'm a damn teenage runaway - we're more than halfway to thirty, Stanford, if you're done jerking me around I've got things to get back to--"

"It wasn't me! I didn't say any of the things that previous call was - it was - well, it was an entity that can mimick my voice."

"Yeah? And I bet you're so fucking eager to share the details of how you fucked your brother a decade ago."

"I never--"

"So you never told anyone but the thing that isn't you but has your voice was just also there in our bedroom when we were kids, is that right? And they called me the liar."

"He can read my memories, Stanley, it's not that simple." Agitation seeped in to replace the cold fear. Bill may have been... Encouraged... By Ford to look into that certain childhood experimentation, which was now coming back to haunt him. "Just - just don't go back in the car. Please."

"... What?" Stanley sounded scared, for a second. "You can see me? How can you see me - wh--" his voice left the receiver, too far away.

"Stanley!" Ford called, and the voice came back.

"What kinda voodoo shit are you pulling, there ain't a camera for miles." He demanded more than asked.

"It's - the entity. He showed me you in the car - he - Stanley why the hell do you have a revolver?" The question took the energy out of Ford. He felt like the world under him was fake. His hand throbbed, still with a fork in it.

"Doesn't matter, you weren't bullshitting me?"

"No, Stanley, I wasn't lying. I promise I can explain everything in-depth once I get there." He said firmly.

"Get here? You ain't coming down here, bub."

"... Our stupid face."

Ford sighed. "Do you always have to be so stubborn? Just tell me where you are."

"Florida."

"I'll pay for the plane."

"Not happening."

"Stanley! You scared the shit out of me, there's a fork in my hand, and if I don't see your stupid face in the next few hours I'm going to pull my hair out, would you work with me here?"

"... Our stupid face. "

Ford snorted. "Yes, precisely. What if I take a plane down and we drive up to Oregon together? Road trip like we did that summer of 61'?"

"Waste of money."

"Not if it's you."

The line went quiet.

"... Stanley..?"

"Fuck, fine, whatever, we're grown men no need to get sappy - shit. Fine" He said with a small warble in his voice.

Ford smiled. "I can't wait."

[happypotato48]

GMMTV 2025 Part 1 Unhinged Tangent Thoughts

Well well well, here we go again. gmmtv the first horseman of the QL apocalypse has grace/curse us again with their presence. surely there would be something worth watching out of this branded trash fire. i will left that one het show out because i don't go there but lol, Nanon really is the last bastion for straight people huh? 🤣

รักแห่งส���าม (The Love of Siam) The Musical : i was 12 when this movie came out so i didn't watched it in theater, only catch it later online when i was in my late teen. tbh i didn't really liked it, i was knee deep in yaoi at that point so i found this movie to be a bit boring. let see how it goes but fornow... no comment.

Dare you to death ไขคดีเป็น เห็นคดีตาย : Eeh, not gonna lie i'm not feeling this one fams. joongdunk doesn't sold me as an actors that could do mystery well. i might be wrong but i'm putting this one for a maybe.

ไหนใครว่าพวกมันไม่ถูกกัน (Head 2 Head) : Only boo! did major disappointed me, and this one seems to be a basic BL so i'm not having much hope. but i still want to see how SeaKeen doing as an growing actors. i'm going to tune in for the first couple EPs then see how it goes.

Burnout Syndrome ภาวะรักคนหมดไฟ : They already got me at Off being naked, and a messy love triangle nonetheless yes plzzzz. glasses guy (i refuse to learn his name) need more workshop, he's too stiff and wooden to sell me on this messy romance he going to has with Gun.

คุณวาฬร้านชำ (Whale Store xoxo) : Its looks cute and i do like LoveMilk. another one in the show up for the couple first EPs pile.

Only Friends : Dream On : or as i dubbed Only Firends 2 These Homosexuals are about to get electrocute boogaloo. i refused to watch Only Friends season one and i will refuse this show again. .... will definitely show up for sex scenes that will get cut up an posts on twitter tho.

That Summer ผมเจอเจ้าชายบนชายหาด : NOPE! next one plz. jk this one seems boring and basic and i hate prince and princess story in thai media. cuz you know the la majeste law is a thing so they are always come from some imagined country and i just don't like that. this one goes to the never to maybe if i hear some buzz pile.

My Romance Scammer รักจริง หลังแต่ง : Sign me the fuck up! let gooo! i'm in a weddings mood and this one has Hot Ohm as a scammer and Dimple Fluke as a dumb himbo whose marriage someone after knowing them for a month. yessss! this show is specifically made for me and i will be seated! Mark and Junior also there i guess.

ความลับในบทเพลงที่บรรเลงไม่รู้จบ (Melody of Secrets) : this show is not really my style but forcebook is forcebook and i'm an easy whore. plus they did ripped my heart out in that ep of PP. i will be watching with caution cause let be real we have no faith in gmmtv to pull this kind of thing off :P

รักครูเท่าโลกเลย Love you teacher : *a loud voice of thousand people yelling Shame! Shame! in background, me tapping the mic : Perth might pull this one off y'all. LET ME COOK! hear me out hear me out this trailer is the first time that Perth feels like he understood the assignment. he looks grumpy and tired but also really in love with Santa's character. this is the first time that this boy made me feels things and i'm just happy for him. AND LET ME BE CLEAR i never read any age regression fics before in my life so this is not even in my trash turf. but idk, i feels thing and it's fluffy and nice. so i will be watching, plz don't judge me.

MU-TE-LUV โปรดใช้วิจารณญาณในการรักเธอ : uhhhhh i'll watch the kathoeys ep and that's it :P

เปย์รักด้วยแมวเลี้ยง (Cat for Cash) : i'm not a firstkhaotung boyie so idk seems like another basic one. another one to the maybe pile wooo!

Girl Rules กฎหลัก...ห้ามรักเธอ : Only Friends but for the girls, pass.

เปิดเทอมใหม่ หัวใจหัดรัก (Boys in love) : Basic highschool BL with PodPapang as a side in 4 couples show?!!? what sin did i commited huh!? gmmtv why are you doing me dirty like this. i will be watching it for the newbies and PodPapang but i will be holding a grudge the entire time.

ทำนายทายทัพ (My Magic Prophecy) : My babies are back!!! and Sea is swol, my, my. don't know what to think of it yet also wtf with all the tarot and fortune readings did someone at gmmtv is going through a divorce ??. anyway i'm a royal whore so i will be seated for this one.

หมาเห่าเครื่องบิน (A Dog and A Plane) : TAYNEW is back in a bl fucking finally!! this one seems promising with its plot and the comedy seems strong. poon also in this as a hussy and i can't be more stroke for my boy. i'm a bit worry about class disparity again cause the thai name of this show is "A dog barking at a plane" it's idiom that mean a lower class person pursuing someone out of their status. we got burned before with peaceful property so holding out hope that we'll not to going get burn again.

มีสติหน่อยคุณธีร์ (Me and Thee) : Phuwin doing comedy inner monologue?! You son of a bitch i'm in. although Fish upon the sky sucked ass in terms of plot imo it was one of the best BL comedy coming out of thailand in recent years and this show reminded me so much of that. at worst it going to be funny nonsense of a show, so what could possibly go wrong hehe (plz don't fuck this up gmmtv.)

WU : Oh hell no! this show is going to be a bromance i've learned my leason from PP and i will not going there again. its looks cool but i'm not doing it I CAN'T!

จาฤกรติชา (Memoir of Rati) : i'm not fan of period piece but this one seems angsty and queer. and maybe second time's the charm for greatinn. they also uses a cheap trick of Great's oilly naked body to lure us in like the siren song of abs and sadly that worked for me 😅

Ticket To Heaven เด็กชายไม่ไปสวรรค์ : G4 are not in a cutesy BL Wowoh! i really like the trailer for this one. the thai name for this show is "Boys/Boy don't goes to heaven" and it's make me get all the feels. i'm intrigued and excited for this one the most cause this one doesn't feels like a typical gmmtv show and against all odd i will hope they could deliver.

Welp let see, i'm excited for 5 out of what 20 shows?? oohh boy gmmtv really in the we throwing things untill something stick era ain't they. i think i'm in the more hopeful side of people whose has been burned by gmmtv. so i'm really hoping that the more unique shows that they got would actually turn out great cause despite what i've said lately about Thai BL, i'm very passionate about them and want to see them do well. i want to see Thai BL and Thai media in general to be someday be recognized on the global level, and gmmtv with all it woes is still the leading voice in this industry. i want them to learns and grow out of this idol manufacturer mindset, which maybe a wishful thinking but i'm still going to be holding up hope for a better days for Thai BL. any fucking way don't fuck Ticket To Heaven up gmmtv or i will be doing cursing ritual on you!

[kei-crocker]

I’m not sure if Dan sleeps like other humans or not yet.

My Headcanon:

Dan is still a full ghost—some kind of full ghost coated in a human husk or something like that. At least, he was, in TUE.

I love both fanon ideas:

1. He needs human things like others because he has a body now.

2. He doesn’t need such things since he’s not like others—he’s still a full ghost.

Both are so interesting to think about, so I can’t choose between them. I’m such an indecisive person lol

But still... I love imagining Vlad and Dani thinking Dan’s bad temper comes from sleeplessness (which is totally wrong). So they’d try to get him to sleep by lying down on either side of him and gently patting him until he finally dozes off.

Maybe Dani would even want to read him an old fairy tale for good measure.

Of course, Dan wouldn’t fall asleep. Instead, he’d crawl out of bed while his two “new family members” slept like logs.

---

#Case 2: Dan Needs Sleep and Food to Maintain Himself (Headcanon)

I used to think Dan wouldn’t need food or sleep to sustain himself, but if he does need them to keep his clone body functioning, that would be hilarious.

Having lived as a full ghost for over ten years, he never ate or slept. He’s almost forgotten that humans need such things.

(Though I doubt he completely forgot, considering he could still act like normal Danny in TUE.)

Dan didn’t sleep for more than three days straight. Even though he knew people needed rest, he just ignored it. In the end, he collapsed in the hallway, scaring Vlad half to death ever since. :3

[pixeldolly]

The Survivors, part 5

(the last batch)

☢️Erwin Pries (by @frauhupfner )

Erwin knows what nobody else seems to - that it wasn't a government experiment gone wrong or an enemy bomb which destroyed that secret lab and unleashed the zombie virus - it was the ALIENS! That's right - wake up, people!

Erwin may look and sound like a kook, but his ideas are surprisingly persuasive - or maybe people are just desperate for an explanation.

☢️Todd Estrella (Sim & bio by @moyokeansimblr)

Todd is rather arrogant but he's a sweetheart deep down. He's not malicious, just big headed and bad at reading social cues to know when he's out of line. He thinks he's tough, so expect him to go into this experience EXTREMELY over-confident before realizing he knows nothing about simanity, let alone apocalyptic simanity. IE volunteering to do things he can't, being places he shouldn't. But he's an excellent hype man. I imagine this experience to be very humbling for him and bring him closer to simkind.

Todd's sexuality should the opportunity present itself, is everybody. But he does have a preference for whatever big strong man is actually the one in charge of everything.

Todd is afraid of everything but masks it with curiosity. His biggest fear is the dark and his bedroom in the UFO he arrived in had six nightlights but don't tell anyone that.

Todd thinks that because he's an alien he's immune to sim germs and grime. But he very much is not.

☢️Hernesto & Nicolas Esposito (Sims & bios by @gvaudoiin-tricou )

Hernesto was one of the scientists in charge of a failed experiment that cost him an eye. When he found Nicolas, he knew the boy was special, but what truly caught his attention was his bright red eyes...and not the fact that the boy was covered in blood, surrounded by corpses. In that moment, he knew neither of them would be alone anymore.

Nicolas never knew who his parents were, or at least doesn't remember their faces. When people started killing each other and resources became scarce everywhere, Nicolas was just a kid hiding in an alley among corpses. Maybe he killed them, maybe he didn't...he doesn't remember either way.

☢️Anne Cleves (by @clouseplayssims)

Anne was a rich, sheltered girl whose family wanted her to marry a much older, several-times divorced man for money.

If not for society collapsing, Anne would probably have gone along with it like a good, dutiful daughter, but now she doesn't have to. If anything good could be said to have come out of the disaster, it is her freedom. Anne would rather take her chances with the zombies, honestly.

(This is my take on a post-apocalyptic Anne of Cleves, lol)

☢️Almalexia Goth (Sim & concept by @veronadragon)

They were the fruit of an affair between a rich Pleasantview socialite and a local man, and as a result she has grown up with many complicated feelings regarding their family.

On the one hand, they are away from all of that now - on the other, ruins are awfully cold and uncomfortable to sleep in compared to the cushy Goth manor, to say nothing of rampaging zombies...

☣️Hoppie AKA Patient Zero (by @andrevasims )☣️

When Hoppie drifted into Fallow Shores, she wasn't feeling very well, so she steered clear of the other survivors.

She'd seen what happened to the others!

That was not going to happen to her - she just needed to sleep, she'd feel better in the morning...

[cupidsblonde]

so do i look like him?

after katsuki’s death, the only thing your parents can see in you is him

when you used to imagine giving a speech about your younger brother, you have imagined it everywhere but here.

maybe a wedding

at an award show  

anywhere but here.

“i remember when katsuki first got his quirk, we all knew he was destined for greatness… but he was ripped away from us to soon.” you say lip quivering.

“he will never be able to live out his dream. or live out the life that had so many great things ahead of him. ripped from the arms of his loved ones, from his greatness, from his determination.” voice breaking, tears falling down your face.

“tomura shigaraki, i promise that if i ever find you, you will be ripped from the hearts of the people motivated by you, just as you did my brother” you say staring straight into the broadcasting camera, which was showing your brothers funeral all across the world.

since he was a nation wide hero. but he never got to be the hero he wanted to be, rich, famous, doing what he loved. 

for he was famous. this just wasn’t how anyone imaged it.

 was this all he was going to be to the world? a dead kid, who had a dream of being a hero and died on his way there in a war he had no place fighting in? 

is that kid the only thing your parents will ever be able to see in you?

being the eldest was great, until katsuki was gone. 

incident one

 you where all sitting around the dinning table. katsuki’s spot next to your empty. nothing but his lingering smell of caramel, which was fading, and quickly. it was quite. you just wanted to eat, and go to sleep. 

you pick up your fork and go to put the food into your mouth, clamping your mouth around the fork and unbeknownst to you, the scratching food. 

you groan, grimace and catch your parents eyes. they’re both staring at you. like you did something wrong. you can see the tears welling in their eyes. your mom slams her fork down and gets up from the table 

“excuse me” she says in a hushed tone. you didn’t know what happened. you looked to your dad for an answer. 

“you just looked a lot like him right then” you dad almost whispers to you.

incident two

you missed katsuki a lot.

his grunts

his anger

his determination 

his want 

his excellency.

you and everyone in your house avoided his room like the plague. scared that if it was changed even a little bit, something would happen. 

but you just couldn’t take not even smelling his scent around the house anymore. you went into his room one day. 

16 years of coming into his room, annoying him, crying to him, watching movies with him. had come to end. you sat on the floor, sat in his bed, sat at his desk and you made your way to his closet. that’s where it smelt the most of him. aside from his bed, but even that was fading.

all you wanted to do was cry. there was no way he was coming back, you know that. right? 

you continue to go into his spaces. just hoping your going to find your younger brother there. watch him study maybe, even hope you would be able to hear him yell at you to “get the f out of my room”. 

but you would never get to have that’s again. 

this time it was your dad. 

you had said something that you picked up from katsuki and your dad froze where he stood. 

you could tell he had been cracking his shell he made when katsuki died. push everything down to hold the family together. so he needed to get away. he stopped what he was doing and went to he and your mothers room. 

“you just looked a lot like him, with that look on your face, saying that.” your mother quivered out to you. sobbing and choking at the end of her sentence.

incident three

you had been falling back into a place that katsuki an you both worked so hard to get you out of mentally. 

you where drinking again

back on drugs

it started slow. just how it always did. 

you had been clean for nearly 2 years. you obviously didn’t need your younger brother to keep you a normal ass person, who wasn’t drinking all the time, sleeping all the time, back on drugs.

bakugo katsuki, your younger brother, your best friend. was one of the only things that kept you on the earth. 

but now, it was your parents. not because you where happy all the time with them as you where with katsuki. 

but having to bury both of their children? you couldn’t do that to them. 

so you began getting sober again. the drugs stopped and the drinking stopped, you had been reminded that katsuki helped you out of that dark, dark place and if he saw you just fall right back into it as soon as he’s gone, he would be disappointed.

it was hard, because it wand ike he was gone on a trip. he was gone, for good.

this time, it was both of them. both of your parents. 

you grabbed any random hoodie one day, not even realizing it was your brothers. you came down the stairs and your parents where right in the view of the stairs, and stopped when you came down. 

you then realized. 

you wouldnt ever be your own person now. atleast not to your parents. 

you understood, their child was gone. and you reminded them of him. and that’s … hard.

not only for them but also for yourself.

this is the first time you started to catch on 

“do i look like him?” 

both of your parents nodded quickly, tears filling their eyes and they both walked away very quickly. 

of course you went to go change.

but that’s when you realized, 

his scent wasn’t on the hoodie anymore 

the more that you thought about it. his scent wasn’t anywhere around the house anymore, aside for his room, which was fading. 

incident four

you where going through an old photo album, you all missed katsuki in with all of your hearts. 

there where a bunch of pictures of katsuki but it started getting easier to look at them. easier to, accept.

but there was this one problem, this one picture. that had your mother sobbing, your dad with tears streaming down your face and you, your face plastered with an a thousand yard stare. your mouth fell open, you wanted to say something. 

anything, but you couldn’t. it felt like your vocal cords had been ripped out, your throat was burning. your eyes where being filled with tears. you closed the picture book slowly. 

you don’t remember much after that.

 all you feel right now is the pain in the balls of your feet from the heels your wearing, continusally having to pull your to short and to tight dress down and the feeling of your back side grinding up against a man that you meet at the bar merely a half hour ago.

“wanna get out of here ma?” the man who you didn’t even know who’s name.

next morning

you woke up next to this man, who you still didn’t know the name of. 

these type of nights continued on for weeks. 

you didn’t see your parents much, you where staying with your friends more and more and they are worried about you. they are always supportive, they understand what your going through. but they are worried.

and they had every reason to. especially tonight. 

when you didn’t come home, after you sobbed in mina’s arms are the first time. saying you wished it was you who was gone and not your brother. she was first your brothers friend, but she ended up being yours as well. 

you missed him, so so much. and you didn’t know how to handle it.

you had taken care of him for his whole life. being the eldest was hard. it was always hard. it was so much harder when the one thing keeping you going was now gone. 

you could see it in your parents eyes. the only thing in their eyes was sadness. so the only you could ask yourself now was 

“do i look like him?”

[quitesins]

Prince!Shouto x Writer/Artist!Reader

Masterlist

Sfw, Female!Reader, Fantasy Au, random thought that I just wanted out of my head, mind the typos! Dialogue under the cut!

You’re a writer/artist, gaining quick popularity across the kingdom due to the satirical works you put out, particularly the ones where you satirise The King.

Your pieces are doing numbers. Sung in pubs, tacked to every board in town, even shoved into the arms of royal guards who can’t do anything but stand at their post and take it.

And you’re beaming, practically swimming in money and praise. You let a bit of it get to your head, suddenly dismissive of any consequences that come with mocking the royal family. Especially with your foreign pen name, feeling safe signing the end of each work while cozied up in your little house hidden away in the forest… that is until you get a knock on the door and… it’s The Prince.

[Or Shouto, crown prince, can barely hold in his laugh every time his father calls a meeting to discuss the crudely drawn pictures of him being pasted around the city. And god the first time he heard one of your poems? Being read aloud in the formal voice of one of the guards? It wasn’t just Shouto who had to excuse himself from the table, but his mother too, trailing behind him with a soft smile on her face.

He makes sure the guards keep any of the flyers that make their way into the castle, citing it as “evidence,” crucial to the investigations. Really he just takes them to his room, gleefully pinning them up. Even taking comfort in them on particularly cruel training nights.

He’s never been malicious, but when it comes to his father, he can be quite testy. Petulant for good reason. Your drawings of his father, the harsh scribbles accompanied by wretched songs, somehow he feels seen. Like the awful hate in his heart is warm and somewhere appreciated.

Shouto also thinks the way you draw his father as just a massive rectangle with two deeply furrowed brows is really funny.]

“You know…” Shouto speaks, unintentionally solemn. You prepare to be scolded on instinct. “You’ve drawn my hair on the wrong side.”

In his hand he raises the crumpled remains of one of your works. Even with the paper having seen better days, it’s undeniably yours— with it’s infamous juts of ink, harsh lines and messy splashes of colour thrown across the page. In your handwriting, there’s a vulgar poem captioning the drawing. Implying the prince to be a bastard, with a women killing smile and a surprisingly impish attitude.

Your signature printed in bright red ink probably doesn’t help your case either.

“The scar is accurate howe—”

“Give me that.” You snatch the flyer from him, crumpling it into your hand and tightening around it.

Shouto doesn’t protest, seemingly entertained by your sudden shyness. The words of [Pen Name] have been always been so crass, he had never expected you to hold such embarrassment. He doesn’t want you to, but he finds it amusing all the same.

“Look.” You don’t like his smile, it’s too soft, earnest. “If you’re here to execute me just do it!” There’s a wobble in your voice when you speak. Not from genuine fear of death, instead you sound like a sulking child. “I can’t imagine the king would send his son for any other reason..”

“Shouto,” He prompts. “I’d like it if you called me Shouto.” In the blink of an eye, in front of you is another flyer. “See.” He points to the picture of him, his name written in massive letters underneath.

“How many do you have,” You groan, snatching the paper from him again. His little disappointed pout feels like a win, it must have been his last. “Then why are you here?”

Shouto stares as if he doesn’t quite know himself. His eyes glaze over you, your cluttered room and to where you fists have finally softened in their grip. Then, like a spark alights behind his eyes, he smiles, responding with blunt determination.

“To be your friend.”

I wishhh I had the brain power to write full fics coz this au is so fun to think about… maybe if the fantasising gets too big to stay in my head I’ll write drabbles of random nonchronological scenarios, or not!

[lilmarshie]

Stay With Me (Pt. 1) | S. Snape x Reader

A/N - This is an angsty Snape x Reader fic that contains warnings such as an attack on the reader and mentions of being in a coma. I was only going to make this an imagine but with the way that this is going I might have to make two parts so stay tuned.

Y/N - your name, H/C - hair color

You had loved Severus Snape ever since you started teaching at Hogwarts four years ago. You taught Defense Against the Dark Arts and Snape knew that you loved what you taught. However, he was jealous that you had gotten the position over him. That position didn’t last long though, because eventually you moved on from teaching and became a proud member of the Order of the Phoenix.

Now as a member of the Order, you were assigned to a mission that required you to closely collaborate with Severus. The man who you have loved for years at this point. Little did you know, that Snape was acting as a double agent, and was secretly on your side.

For months now, you have struggled with your feelings for Snape. You constantly had almost painful feelings of longing and loneliness because of how you felt about him. But you knew that however dangerous these feelings were, you knew that he had complex loyalties. Snape was dangerous not only for you but for the other members of the wizarding world as well.

Snape would often come to you during the quiet and vulnerable moments during the missions that you went on. He let his guard down, revealing not only more about his past, but glimpses into his tortured soul. This included the aching regrets that weighed down on him constantly.

You wanted to help Snape realize that he can overcome this trauma. And you were willing to help him, despite his past actions. Days were spent talking things over, comforting him on the cold floor of the room you shared with the other Order members, and being there for him when he needed it.

One night, after a particularly long stretch of helping Snape, you end up confessing your long-held feelings to Snape, who then reacts with a mixture of surprise, anger, and sadness. “I don’t know if I’m capable of being loved the way you want to. I need you to leave and never talk to me again.” Snape snarled in a fit of rage. You stared at him in shock before he turns towards you a flash of light spiraling towards you from his wand. It hits the wall next to you and burns a hole straight through.

You exclaim with a sob, and, race out of the room and out into the cold night. You didn’t know what was wrong with Snape but you knew that you couldn’t stay for your sake and his. Half an hour later, the mission that you and the Order members were on takes a dangerous turn, and, you were hit with a spell from a Snatcher that was on your trail.

It causes life threatening injuries and you are rushed to St. Mungo’s hospital. You are bed bound and placed in a coma for an unknown amount of time. It could be temporary or it could take months and you might never wake up. That’s what truly scared Severus.

He stayed by your side, day after day, not knowing whether or not you would wake up. He stroked your h/c hair as tears spilled down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry…y/n. I let my pride and stubbornness get in the way of my love for you.” Snape sobbed as he held your hand tightly in his. His fingers rubbing the back of your hand in slow circles. “I always cared for you, love. I just felt undeserving of any sort of happiness. I know now that I was wrong. You have offered me every form of happiness that I know. It’s all thanks to you that I’m where I am now. I love you, y/n. Please stay with me. I can’t lose you.” Snape says, as tears are now falling freely down his face. There’s no use stopping the waves of sadness that have overwhelmed him.

Snape knew that he couldn’t stay here no matter what you would say if you knew that he was even considering leaving. So he left, never to be seen by members of the Order ever again.

[gracemain919]

(Not sure if you will answer this, but I’m going to ask anyway sorry if it’s long :P)

I can only imagine the STRESS having to do with seven (eight if you count “the mother”) fungus infected Yandere’s (+a whole military complex) so here’s my question:

How will they react to Y/N having a mental breakdown?

(sorry if angs)

(Thanks for the ask:), and yeah. The problem with having a decent amount of characters is that I have so many things to write/draw about them, but don't know what would and will be liked/needed. Also hoped I captured a good enough vision of a mental breakdown. Don't know if that is what you wanted;-;)

(The Fungus universe)

Tw: Yandere, manipulation, slight abuse.

Oh dear… it was anticipated you would suffer a lot of pressure and fear being randomly rocked from your old life to this one. Tears tainting your once joyful face while you lock yourself away from any prying eyes, and taking out your anger on any who dared to try and enter.

How the leaders react:

The Liar: Expected. You are only human after all. Humans crack under the slightest change, unlike his own kind. Still with you gone… No. He can't let you screw over his plans. If you want sympathy, then you won't get it.

You can't cry forever, and to be honest he doesn't care enough to take action. Sure, hide away from your problems. See if he does something about it, dear.

Still, if he really had to fix it, it would only take a simple lie. Nothing more.

Poison: Hmm… That was quicker than expected. Some people can endure the pressure for longer periods of time. That’s too bad. Poison will try to get to the source of the problem. Through the closed door, providing more drug-like, artificial solutions than actual support. Since she knows the only thing that would truly bring you joy is your freedom, and well… she can't give you that.

The Cannibal: Oh, oh, oh. Fuck did he cause that? No, no. How did he- How…?!

Imagine a buffering browser, that is him at that moment.

He really does not know what to do or what to say to make you feel better;-;

Doppelganger: What? Really? You hiding away in tears? Good god, always knows how to push his buttons in the middle of practice.

“Dear, open the door, please… I promise I can help you”

Can he help you? He is pretty sure he can, even if the ‘how’ of the matter is quite blurry. He will try to persuade you with pretty words and promises, but if those don't work… well… haha. That door might need to be broken off.

Illusionist: Why are you hiding? Did… did they do something wrong? They did… but it was for the betterment of everyone. You gotta trust them. Please…

You might hear muffled pleas from the other side of the door as the humanoid insect tries to get you to come out. Cries that closely resemble a child begging for their parent.

“Please, do you feel lonely? We won't ever leave your side again we promise! Do you need to see something cute? We will give you cats, please! Come. Out!”

That’s the most they will do… well until they decide the Doppelganger might be a good person to help them out.

The Eye in the Sky: What? He is too busy for that, god. Fine.

It might feel like an insult when you hear a worker coming to your aid instead of the man himself. He’s busy god dammit. He doesn't have time for your temper tantrum.

The Priest: Oh that happened? That's truly awful… Don’t worry he will help.

Standing behind the door he will simply wait.

“Don't worry, dear. I understand this might seem like the end of the world. Take the time you need. I will be waiting until you decide to come out”

He is a patient man. He can wait for as long as you need, and if you decide to leave he will be more than happy to hold you in a loving embrace.

His wife on the other hand… will smile and nod, but her aching fingers can't help but visualize the pretty idea of tearing that damn door off. Why would anyone want to hide from them? Preposterous! They are sweet as angels.

(edit… I will KILL MYSELF. Like I keep forgetting my own fricking oc ‘Poison’ is mute;-;)